No Talking.

Posted on by Beth Hull

In which I can’t decide what to write about so traipse off into tangents.

I have this print by artist Juli Adams. It’s got this girl with a blanket in her lap, a cat on the blanket. In one hand she’s holding a cup of tea (or possibly coffee, I suppose, if you like that sort of thing). In the other hand she’s holding a book. The title: No Talking. (If you’d like to see the print, click here.)

That’s how I get when I’m reading a book. Just give me some quiet space and let me do my thing.

[Imagine a photo of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. I’m taking down all images not created By Me because I read something about copyright and am now paranoid.]

People who don’t read for pleasure confuse me a little, I’ll admit. These are the people with whom I have no idea what to talk about if we try to embark on a conversation. It takes a little work to find talking points with a person I’ve just met who doesn’t read, especially because I have never had the happy talent of (how does Mr. Darcy phrase it?)  “conversing easily with people I have never met before.” My topics usually include, “What do you like to read?” or “What have you read lately?” Now that I’m a mother, I often ask if the person has children. It’s just easier. Even if they don’t have kids, they usually have pets (not to be confused as the same thing). Conversations about jobs or work are a very last resort, because the truth is, I’m rarely interested. Sorry. I’m self-absorbed. I tried to change that for awhile, but decided to embrace it and start a blog.

This is not to say that I don’t enjoy the company of people who do not read for pleasure, because I certainly do enjoy their company – after we have flailed around for some common ground on which to base conversation.

It’s something I need to work on.

Oh! Speaking of things I need to work on (there are many, but go with me for a second while I talk about ONE)… My Turning 30 Challenge! Have I made any progress? Well, yes, actually. Husband taught me how to build a fire in a fireplace. And…that’s about all the progress I’ve made. It just hit me that the 30 thing is really happening this year, as three of my friends turn 30 this month (Happy Birthday(s) N, B, and B!). I have only a few weeks to meet my challenge, so um, I better get on top of this.

Sellout by Ebony Joy Wilkins

Posted on by Beth Hull

The set-up: After a horrifying onstage experience, NaTasha, the only African American in her suburban school, decides to spend a few weeks with her grandmother in Harlem, where she’ll volunteer at a crisis center for girls her age.

Main character’s goals: I don’t think NaTasha’s goal was entirely clear, at least not in her mind. At the beginning, she wants to escape her humilation. Throughout the middle I couldn’t find much of a goal except evading humiliation and bullying from girls at the crisis center. It’s at the end that NaTasha finally grows a backbone and sense of self-determination when her goal becomes clear (and now I can’t tell you what it is without giving you a big spoiler).

My reaction: The bullying was cringe-inducing. I could identify with NaTasha’s desire to be left alone, so every time she’s the center of attention and the object of hurtful words (or hands), I really felt for her. Then I was later thrilled with how she grew as a person and as a character.

Also, and I’m not saying this just because it’s Martin Luther King Jr. Day – I am white, and have not considered myself a minority (in most situations). Seeing NaTasha in her suburban town, trying to fit in with her peers, was eye-opening and took me to that place where you walk through the world in someone else’s shoes. No, this isn’t the first book I’ve read where the main character is not white. Far from it. It’s just refreshing sometimes, to get another perspective.

Of interest to writers: There are some big moments in the plot that Wilkins handles exceptionally well. The inciting incident is one of these, with NaTasha’s onstage embarrassment. Other big moments include a volleyball match, and a date at the end (can’t say more here, you know, spoilers. Sorry). If you want some solid examples of big turning points, study these.

Bottom Line: There’s a lot to be learned from this book, not just about writing, but about life.

Make Room for Margaret Atwood!

Posted on by Beth Hull

We didn’t get that many books for Christmas, considering who we are (who we are: people who sit on their butts for lots of hours, reading…and this description includes my two-year-old). I got one novel, and three books on the craft of writing. Husband got three (four?) Terry Pratchett novels. Z got…I have no idea. A BUNCH of picture books. At least five, possibly more. (And that’s after I held one back as soon as I realized that, given the number of gifts she would receive, she’d be opening presents until Valentine’s Day.)

Anyway, I had to do a little bookshelf organization. First, it had to be alphabetized. It irritates me to NO END that Shakespeare is up at the top, shelved between Richard Brautigan’s Trout Fishing in America and Libba Bray’s A Great and Terrible Beauty. (His Highness’s Complete Works won’t fit anywhere else except that one shelf.)

This is the "after" shot.

Because the available space for library expansion was at the bottom of the shelf, and because I am short, I started at the bottom. First I cleared out the poetry books that did NOT belong in fiction. (The poetry shelves are full, however, so what happens to this small pile of poetry remains a mystery.) Next, I condensed Z’s overflow library to one small corner. Then I began the Perilous Book Shuffle of Doom. The many knick-knacks I had to work around raised the stakes (and time needed to complete my task) to astronomical levels.

By the time I’d reached the top shelf (skirting around the Complete Works of Shakespeare), I had no room for the pile of Margaret Atwood paperbacks I’d found in the basement last month. This would not do. For a few years I was obsessed with her writing. Poetry, fiction, essays, whatever. I wanted to be Margaret Atwood. No matter that I can barely recall the plots of the five paperbacks staring accusingly up at me from the floor. No matter that I still haven’t gotten around to reading Oryx and Crake. I had to fit these books on the shelf.

So the Perilous Book Shuffle of Doom began all over again, starting from the bottom.

This time I culled.

This time, I weeded.

And do you know what I found?

DUPES!

We have:

  • 2 copies of Barrel Fever by David Sedaris
  • 2 copies of South of the Border, West of the Sun by Haruki Murakami
  • 2 copies of Sula by Toni Morrison
  • 2 copies of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by you-know-who (one Scholastic, one Bloomsbury)
  • 2 copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (one Scholastic, one Bloomsbury)
  • 2 copies of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (one in Spanish)
  • 2 copies of The Little Prince by Antoine de St. Exupery (one in French)
  • 2 copies of Emma by Jane Austen
  • 2 copies of Twilight by what’s-her-face
  • and 3 (THREE!) copies of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Great Gatsby x3

It’s this last one that bothered me the most. I know The Great Gatsby is like, considered by pretty much everyone to be super fabulous, Great American Novel and so on, but I had to critique it in Sister Aaron’s Critical Theory Class at least three times, not to mention read about it being critiqued ten different ways in my textbook. By the end of that semester, I was ready to ship my copy of the book to the West Egg. Or is that the East Egg. Does it matter?

You’d think the Twilight duplicate would bother me most. I mean, I’m definitely getting rid of one of them, just like I’m tossing the two extra copies of His Holiness the F. Scott Fitzgerald’s touted tome.

The whole exercise got me thinking, though: if I don’t plan on reading a book again, why do I hang on to it? Why does anyone?

Don’t get me started on what happened when Husband and I watched an episode of “Hoarders.” Quite a few of the knick knacks pictured above have gone missing.

On the bright side, I made more room than I needed, and now I’ve got a special place for my library books:

And on a totally unrelated, random note (if you’ve made it through this long of a blog post, I salute you)… I made my first lolcat thingie, which you can view by clicking here. I think I’ve found a new way to procrastinate on typing up my manuscript.

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The Weekly Chore Schedule (Or, Trying to be Less of a Slacker Mom)

Posted on by Beth Hull

Welcome  to my home. Wait, wait, don’t step there. Ouch. Those Duplos really hurt. In fact, you might want to keep your gaze on the floor as you navigate our hazardous halls. If you stumble on a stuffed animal and grab the piano for support, you may want to wipe off the dust that sticks to your fingers. I’ll turn around and pretend not to notice if you want to use the curtains for this.

Yes, welcome to my home. I know I’m not completely alone in this. My house is cleaner than some, but much messier than others. It’s messier on days when we come back from the library and I have a delicious new book to read (Hello, The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams–wow!)

To give myself a tiny bit of help, I devised a chore schedule. This is the slacker mom’s chore schedule. Please realize that I’m easing into this chore thing, and I’M A SLOB OKAY!? There’s my disclaimer. Even as easy as this chore schedule is, I STILL don’t get everything done.

This is embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m posting this. Okay. Here goes:

Monday: sweep and vacuum

Tuesday: dust (This is a stupid chore. It always gets overlooked. Besides, whenever my mother visits she is so appalled by the layers of dust coating everything that she dusts. So I don’t have to.)

Wednesday: whatever (Yes, seriously. Wednesday is “Whatever Day.” Maybe we run errands. Maybe I read a novel.)

Thursday: laundry (Actually, I do laundry all week. Thursday is “fold the mountain of laundry in the family room” day.)

Friday: clean sinks and toilets

Saturday: clean tub and shower

Sunday: Whee, Sabbath! I try very hard not to do chores on Sundays. This is the chore day where I SHINE. Except for dishes (see below).

Every Damn Day: wash dishes (Oh, how I hate them.)

I am sure there are stay-at-homies out there who do all those things in one single day. The thought of this makes me break out in a rash. My mother has hope for me yet. Two of my Christmas gifts:

I really hate dusting. Yesterday was dusting day. Z and I got it done, but just barely. We didn’t use the Swiffer Dusters Extender, though. Maybe next week!

I hate the dishes too, but as they’re unavoidable, I’ll use the fancy dish drying mat. Thanks, Mom! (Um, that is said without any trace of sarcasm, really. And just so nobody thinks anything bad about my mother, I will also disclose that one of her gifts is sending me to an SCBWI conference. So she didn’t just get me housekeeping accoutrements.)

Bad Apple by Laura Ruby

Posted on by Beth Hull

The set-up: Tola is a high school student, and she’s been named the victim of an affair with her favorite teacher. She insists nothing happened, but from the start of the novel she’s established as a storyteller (ahem, liar), so can we, the readers, or they, her family, friends, and the authorities, really believe her?

Main character’s goal: All Tola really wants to do is clear her teacher’s name so he can come back to his job. She’s got some other goals, though, one involving a hottie named Seven (who is so cool he needs his own book!).

My reaction: This was a light story, feel-good at the end. I’d probably sub-categorize it as “chick-lit” (what a stupid sub-genre name), but at the same time I really liked it. I got indignant on behalf of Tola, which is a pretty good sign that I liked her. Also, I should clarify that it felt really fluffy at the beginning, but as I got further into the book, I became more invested in the story, and it felt deeper somehow.

Of interest to writers: The unreliable narrator thing must be hard – at least, it sounds like a daunting writing task to me. But Ruby pulls it off, so consider this a shining example if you ever need one.

Also: at the end of each chapter there’s a little mini-chapter of “(comments),” quotes from various characters who give their own ideas about the affair. These little quips serve to shed some light on Tola’s situation and personality. They also serve to develop some of these side characters’ personalities.

Bottom line: It’s a fast read, satisfying, and has a compelling hook. The web of stories, lies, and hearsay kept me intrigued throughout.

To visit Laura Ruby’s very pretty website, click here.