March Reading List

I did NOT make it through the books I wanted to read in March. Mainly because I got really mired down in Michael Chabon’s Telegraph Avenue. It’s dense, complex, lyrical, and contains a cast of thousands–I guess my brain is no longer strong enough to keep up with that kind of thing. I actually gave up on it yesterday (I’ll come back to it some other time, I’m sure–but I’ll probably have to start over) and decided to aim a little lower in March. So I’m only scheduling three books this month, the first of which I’d really hoped to read in February, which is:

After that, I’ll go a little bit lighter and read:

And then end the month with the skinniest book in my library, the movie of which I have seen countless times (and from which comes the title of this blog–ten points if you remember which scene), and have been meaning to read for years and years and years:

Advertisement

February Reading List

Here’s what I’m reading (and blogging about, should the Fates allow) in February, in case you want to read along:

(Because you have to read a love story in honor of Valentine’s Day)

(Re-reading this one, actually–a little nostalgia)

(Always exciting to read something new by Michael Chabon. I’m a little behind the times–this came out in 2012–but it’s new to me.)

(Pushed Carrie Fisher back until March, because it’s Black History Month and it seems like a good time to read this one–I hear it’s wonderful.)

It’s Been a Melancholy Week.

Six-year-old Carrie Fisher watches her mother, Debbie Reynolds, onstage at the Riviera Hotel in Las Vegas, 1963

2016 has been a year of celebrity deaths. I’ve gotten misty over them several times, but I think I’ve only really cried over three of them: first for Alan Rickman, then for Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds.

Well, I’ve cried several times over Carrie Fisher. Not only was she too young (she was only two weeks older than my mother), but she was a different kind of celebrity–she made her life available to us through her memoirs and even her novels. She was so smart and had a fantastic sense of humor. I loved watching her onscreen but I loved reading her work more. I’d spent countless hours curled up on the couch with her. I knew her better than I know most of my relatives.

And then her poor, devastated mother. I can only assume she died of heartbreak.

A lot of other things have happened this week, both good and bad–it started with Christmas! The kids and I had a fantastic trip to the zoo, with light crowds and very little whining from anyone. I started running again, then I got a knock-out stomach flu and my husband had to stay home to take care of the kids. The girl cut two molars and was super clingy. The boy made progress with his speech and I discovered some good exercises for both his gross and fine motor skills. Like any week, a mixed bag. But I just want to take a moment to remember Carrie, and to ponder the fact that, as a public figure, she impacted me so much. What power there was in her words and performances, in her openness, that she registered in my heart not as a celebrity as much as a friend.

Five Must-Watch Titles for New Year’s Eve (Unless You’re Actually Out Doing Something–Doing Something is Better)

Rudolph’s Shiny New Year

Nobody I talk to ever knows about this one, though I’d say it’s arguably one of the best Rankin & Bass movies. Way better than the first Rudolph. It’s got that fantastic old-school stop-motion thing going on, and Red Skelton plays Father Time, and there’s a big vulture named Eon the Terrible and a cave man and a knight and a dude with a clock for a chest and all sorts of good stuff.