Blog

You Can Leave That Book Behind

By
August 9, 2018
Leave a comment

Consider this the permission you’ve been waiting for: You can stop reading that book you hate.

Maybe you’ve been reading it the last few weeks—or months—but you’re having trouble finishing it because every time you pick it up it puts you to sleep after three paragraphs. Maybe the writing is too dense—or too simple. Maybe you find the main character obnoxious or the point of view is all wrong. Maybe it’s not a genre that interests you.

Maybe you just don’t like it.

At the end of the day, that’s all that really matters. The “why” is irrelevant. You don’t like it. Stop reading it.

And I get it. It can be hard enough admitting that we don’t like a book, let alone putting it down and walking away. Could be a leftover habit from high school, when we didn’t really get a say in what we read or whether we liked it, when we had to finish books. (Although, let’s be honest, anyone who says they never took advantage of SparkNotes or CliffsNotes is obviously lying.) Could be that we feel guilty for not liking it, for so clearly not enjoying someone’s work that we don’t even want to finish it. But we don’t seem to have the same problem turning off a movie or changing the channel to a different TV show.

So what is it about books?

For one thing, books require more of a time commitment than a two-hour movie or a 45-minute TV show, so there’s the mentality that if we don’t finish a book, all the time we already spent reading it was wasted. (The solution to this one, though, is actually a no-brainer. If you already feel like you’re wasting time, don’t waste any more.) And because books are more of a commitment, our reluctance to step away from them could be as easy to explain as the age-old adage: Nobody likes a quitter.

But here’s the thing—books shouldn’t be a commitment. Outside of reading for work or for school, reading shouldn’t be an accomplishment or a task or a chore. It sounds lame and cliché, but reading should be fun.

Should your opinion really change and you find yourself regretting the decision to move on from a book, you can always go back to it. But until then, leave books unfinished—guilt free—and read whatever the hell you want. Whatever genre, whatever style, whatever author you like, so long as it’s just that: something you like.

Blog

Adaptation Meloncholia

By
July 14, 2018
Leave a comment

As an avid consumer of all things movies, books, TV, and music, I tend to keep myself fairly up-to-date on entertainment news—which of my shows are canceled or renewed or brought back from the dead; when a favorite author or artist is dropping a new book or album; which summer blockbuster hits the big screen when—so imagine my surprise when I click over to YouTube last week and I see Netflix’s new trailer for its small-screen adaptation of Jenny Han’s To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.

Not a press release announcing Netflix had optioned the movie rights, not a casting announcement or even a filming notice—the two-minute-long official trailer, complete with release date. And this was the first I was hearing about it.

Even more to my surprise, I didn’t feel excited. It wasn’t just concern about the quality of the adaptation; I felt disappointed, maybe even a little bit sad. (Maybe more than a little bit sad.)

I read To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, the first in a trilogy, last summer. At the center of the book is 16-year-old Lara Jean, who’s loved exactly five boys in her life. Every time she fell out of love with one of them, she wrote them a letter, expressing her love and why she’d moved on. She sealed it, addressed it, and tucked it away for no one to find—until someone does and mistakenly sends all five out with the mail, delivering her private letters to the very people who were never supposed to read them. What follows is a sweetly romantic, wonderfully heartfelt comedy of errors that would only ever take place within the pages of fiction but is all the more magical because of it.

I liked it enough to run out and buy the sequel as soon as I finished it. It was sugar-spun YA fun, a perfect summer read, and Lara Jean—so patently human, endearingly genuine, and almost painfully earnest—was a narrator I loved spending time with.

So why wasn’t I thrilled to see her brought to life? As much as I loved reading about Lara Jean and her romantic mishaps, I wasn’t anywhere near as attached to her story as I was to, say, Harry Potter or the Hunger Games, and I was over the moon about the announcements of those adaptations.

But a book doesn’t have to be a favorite for us to feel connected to it, and unlike the Hunger Games and Harry Potter, no one in my immediate social circle had read To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. I experienced it entirely alone, and Lara Jean’s journey—a very personal one—became personal to me as I read it.

Seeing that trailer on YouTube, a promo for the movie’s wide release, robbed me a little of that feeling.

Reading is, after all, an individual activity, even when we talk about it with our friends and family. What we imagine when we read—the way we imagine it, the way we react to it—all belongs solely to us, in that moment and after we close the book. Sometimes that experience runs so deep, so true, that we want it to stay that way—between us and the page—forever.

Blog

Get Ready to Battle

By
June 1, 2018
Leave a comment

Growing up with a librarian for a mom means attending 90 percent of the library programming for your age group (not that I’m complaining). Growing up with a best friend whose mom is also a librarian means spending a lot of time at those programs together.

So when that friend becomes a librarian herself and finds out the main city library is hosting one of your favorite programs from when you were kids but for adults, she signs you up without even asking.

Which is how, last summer, I came to participate in the first ever adult Battle of the Books in my area.

Not familiar with Battle of the Books? Take your basic bar trivia night and add a reading list.

Teams of 3-5 sign up to read a list of 6-10 books, then meet a few months later for the main event. The battle is usually three themed rounds—people, places, and events—during which you’re asked multiple questions about each of the books. The team with the most points at the end of all three rounds—and usually a bonus round—wins.

(Pro tip: No one is ever able to read the whole list and keep all of the books straight, so don’t even try. How you split up the books is up to you, but it’s a smart move to double up on readers for each of the titles.)

My team competed in another battle this spring, and we’re getting ready to sign up for a third in a couple of weeks. Between the two tournaments, I was responsible for reading five books I wouldn’t have otherwise read—two on my to-read list I had never gotten around to, and three I never would have picked up on my own. I’ve made three new friends (aside from my BFF, I didn’t know the other members of my team before we became teammates) and even taken home a third-place prize. (Humble brag.)

It’s not really about the points or the prizes, of course, so much as it’s about reading new books and—as corny as it sounds—having fun. It’s another way to interact with books that’s different from your average book club.

If you’re looking to challenge yourself to read more this summer—or you just can’t decide what to read—check out your local library and see what they have to offer.

After all, we may be done with grade school and book reports, but we’re never too old for summer reading.

Blog

Exploring the World of Self-Help Books

By
February 22, 2018
Leave a comment

Truth be told, even though I’m a librarian and read pretty widely, I haven’t really ever truly explored the world of self-help books. To me, they always seemed a little hokey, and also, who are these people that write these books? I mean, really. Lately, though, I’ve spent time gleaning tidbits from a few of the self-helpers, and though I haven’t become an evangelist of any one person or methodology, I’ve taken something away from each that makes the books worth mentioning.

My journey down this rabbit hole began when two friends invited me to join their self-care book club. As a mom, this concept meant something to me, so I decided to participate. Our first book was Brené Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. I’m sure you’ve heard of Brown before. She’s given some pretty internet-famous TED talks, has written a slew of books, and has some sound advice to share. I dig her. What’s most interesting about this book is Brown’s ability to frame her advice so warmly and with acceptance. This book is for: people who struggle with perfectionism and people pleasing.

 

I may be betraying a bit too much of my own personal struggles with this next one, but hell, if I learned anything from Brown’s book it’s that being honest and vulnerable is a strength, not a weakness. In Food: The Good Girl’s Drug: How to Stop Using Food to Control Your Feelings, Sunny Sea Gold talks openly about the complexities of food issues that range on a scale from an unhealthy relationship with food to a full-blown eating disorder. Gold focuses mainly on binge eating disorder which has received a lot less media attention than either anorexia or bulimia and yet affects millions. This book is for: anyone who believes they’re using food to cope or who has body image issues. Bonus points for tangible suggestions for change and for posing thoughtful questions meant to encourage journaling and reflection.

 

Natalie gave me this one, and I’m so glad she did! It’s The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck: How to Stop Spending Time You Don’t Have with People You Don’t Like Doing Things You Don’t Want to Do by Sarah Knight. I’m sure you’re familiar with Marie Kondo’s tidying up book, and Knight’s take is a parody of that one. We’re talking mental clutter in this book instead of physical clutter, and Knight’s love of the word “fuck” is pretty perfect (and pretty Grammatical-Art-aligned). This book is for: anyone who has no fucks left to give and wants to laugh out loud while reading about how to be okay with giving zero fucks.

 

The books I’m exploring next: Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself by Kristen Neff, The Food Therapist: Break Bad Habits, Eat with Intention, and Indulge Without Worry by Shira Lenchewski, and You Are a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life by Jen Sincero. Ever read any good self-help books? Do tell!

Blog

Life’s Too Short to Read a Bad Book and Other Advice for Reading with Kids

By
February 13, 2018
Leave a comment

It’s no secret that at Grammatical Art, we’re huge book lovers. Look no further than our “I Heart Books” totes, tees, and prints for evidence. Our book-obsessed leader Natalie has blogged about her massive reading list from 2017 (read her posts here, here, and here for some awesome recommendations), and she has lofty goals for 2018.

As a former (and still passionate) children’s librarian, I’m an advocate for putting books in the hands of kids. The thing is, not just any old book will do, and that’s a misunderstanding that a lot of people have about little kids and reading. I’m not implying that the only acceptable literature for children has a gold seal on it; award-winners are great, but not necessarily for everyone. So I’ve put together some guiding principles for choosing books for the children in your lives.

Here goes:

  • Make reading fun and loving. Try not to ever force a child to sit down and read, especially one under the age of five. Choose snuggly moments and good moods to introduce books rather than mid-tantrum (I’m exaggerating, but you get my point). If they resist you, try another book or try another time. It’s totally okay.
  • Follow the child’s lead. Are they currently mermaid obsessed? In an all-dinosaurs-all-the-time phase? Find books that relate to their interests, and they’ll be more inclined to enjoy them. The same is true of adults, right?
  • Try to flip through a book yourself first before you hand it to a kid (or read reviews of it online if it’s lengthy). This has absolutely nothing to do with censorship (another post for another time) and everything to do with making sure the reading level and material is on par with the child. The artwork might be too scary, the book too wordy, or the content way over the child’s head. You get to be the gatekeeper as the adult. After all, don’t we do this for ourselves when making book selections?
  • It’s perfectly acceptable to start a book and not finish it. It’s also perfectly acceptable for your child to be more interested in holding and playing with the book than reading it, or in the case of older children, flipping through to look at specific pictures or read only certain passages. For kids (especially little ones) the majority of their experiences are new. They’re getting to know what a book is and how it works. All of this is building literacy and it has nothing to do with reading a book cover to cover. Embrace the play!
  • Graphic novels, comic books, ebooks, and audiobooks all count as real books (yes! really!), and they absolutely enhance and develop literacy skills just as “traditional” books do. I can send you research if you’re curious, but I just want to say it once and for all. Adults: they all count. Now let’s move on.
  • Model reading for children. Kids want to be like the important grown-ups in their lives. They want to do things just like you (it’s true!). If they see you reading and enjoying books, they’re more inclined to want to read, too.
  • My cardinal rule for every person in the world: LIFE IS TOO SHORT TO READ A BAD BOOK. You, too, grown-ups! If a kid is disinterested in the book, who cares? Chances are they may come around later (hours, days, weeks, months, years, whenever!), but if they never do, who cares? There’s always another book. Let go of your completion attitude, and let the book go. Forcing children to read something (in a non-school setting, of course), that they hate is only going to make them hate reading and books. Let the book go. Life is just too short. Some books just aren’t that interesting, aren’t that well-written, aren’t that colorful, or aren’t right for some odd reason, and that’s perfectly okay.

We’d love to know what your favorite books were as children. Maybe they’re still your favorites today? How do you go about choosing books for the children in your life or for yourself? Are you guilty of having a completion attitude about books?

Blog

Book Review: When Breath Becomes Air

By
June 30, 2017
Leave a comment

This book had been sitting on my shelf for a while, and I’d put off reading it. I’ve desperately wanted to, but I felt the weight of its contents before I’d even put eyes to page.
Paul Kalanithi has cancer. Horrible, debilitating, quick-acting, stage IV cancer. He’s young. And he dies. This may seem like a spoiler, but you know this going in. He never really gets to fully finish his book. And yet, even knowing this, Kalanithi’s story still feels hopeful, warm, inviting.

A man whose right and left brain halves pulled equally, Kalanithi was and always had been an avid reader and lover of literature. Even though he was a neurosurgeon, he also held a Master of Arts in English literature. Writing this book gave him an opportunity to explore the part of him–the writer–that he hadn’t really ever been able to explore before. Aside from the beautiful writing, it’s the juxtaposition of science and art, faith and atheism, and the vibrancy of life even in death that moves the story forward. From a basic look at his childhood and youth to an examination of the difficulties of his career and his illness, I found the book to be thoughtful and thought-provoking.

Kalanithi’s writing is stunning, of course, but it’s his wife’s epilogue to the book that I carry with me still. She carefully and honestly discusses her husband’s death and talks about their decision to bring a child into the world knowing full well he may never live to see that baby’s first birthday. It’s her perspective on his perspective that really pulls at your heart.

This was a quick read, and I highly recommend it. Make sure you’re sitting with a box of tissues for the ending. Happy reading!

Blog

Book Review: The Fireman by Joe Hill

By
August 28, 2016
Leave a comment

I can’t help it. I was an English major; I’m a librarian. I have to talk about books, guys. If your “to read” list looks anything like mine, it will take you years to finish reading everything you want to. I get it. I really do. But here’s another for your consideration: The Fireman by Joe Hill.

Joe Hill has been getting buzz not only for his best-selling Heart-Shaped Box, but also as Stephen and Tabitha King’s son. Deliberately choosing not to use his birth name in full, Hill started writing as anonymously as possible with the aim that his work be read and treated as something other than “that book Stephen King’s kid wrote.” Well, The Fireman is that book Stephen King’s kid wrote, and ain’t no shame in his game, it’s pretty good.

The book opens on a not-too-distant future where society has begun to crumble thanks to a sweeping epidemic called Dragonscale. When a person gets Dragonscale, their body slowly becomes covered in thin, tattoo-like swirls, but what’s worse is most who are infected slowly burn until they catch fire and combust. The world is in a permanent state of fire and smoke. No one knows for sure how you “catch” Dragonscale, but it seems to be coming for everyone.

We follow Harper through the story, and she’s possibly one of the best parts of the book. She’s capable and strong, and really doesn’t discover just how much so until she is infected with Dragonscale and becomes pregnant.

Hill does a great job of navigating a realistic, non-zombie apocalypse. The beginning of the book feels exactly how you would imagine the world beginning to end if this did in fact happen tomorrow. Things fall apart slowly with people clinging to society as they knew it. Firefighters, police officers, and doctors are in high demand. People try to keep things going (go to work, send kids to school) until it becomes nearly impossible. There is denial and confusion and a slowly permeating fear, one that reveals the type of person really living inside each of us.

As my friend Amberly points out, there is a lot of heavy-handed foreshadowing (and boy is there), but mostly it’s okay with me. I found the story to be suspenseful and engaging. The middle drags a bit through some clunky and awkward action scenes, and the end is a bit puzzling (sorry, I won’t spoil it for you!) and maybe mildly disappointing, but I’d still recommend checking it out. There’s some truly great writing and, well, all the drama of fire you could ask for. The concept is smart, and while I have no idea whether or not the science holds up, I’m willing to suspend disbelief, so kudos to Hill on that.

Not sure if I’d read a sequel, but I’m definitely interested in reading Heart-Shaped Box. Hill’s a good storyteller, and I’m looking forward to more from him.

If you’re really into fire, then you might want to check out this Fire Triangle print on our website. Science: it’s everywhere. Even in your fiction.

Happy reading!