If you really want to hear about it.

I feel compelled to write what is surely the obligatory J.D. Salinger post. (Not that that’s a bad thing.) I only read The Catcher in the Rye once. Just the one time, as a freshman in high school. My librarian gave it to me and said, “I think you would like this.” And I did. I had no idea what it was about, but I took her word for it. The things I have heard people object to about it, the language and the selfishness and sex, those things made me feel as if I was not alone. I only read it once because I have been afraid that if I went back and read it again, it wouldn’t be as great as I remembered. (I suppose that 2010 should be my year to rectify that.)

The character of Holden Caulfield nudged me in the direction of librarianship. Just a nudge, but enough that I still remember standing there as my librarian slid the book across the desk at me. Face up. It was a tiny step towards what it is that I love about what I do: connecting people to books that might change them forever. I enjoyed thinking of J.D. Salinger, grumpy and reticent, but there. Connecting those of us who read and related to Holden. But, of course, we still have the book.

I am impossibly late on this, but I would love to hear your memories of reading The Catcher in the Rye.

Published:
1/29/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
4 Comments

Where the God of Love Hangs Out by Amy Bloom

I didn’t really care for Away by Amy Bloom, but I did like her writing. I don’t remember exactly what I didn’t like about the story, just that it was a long hard lot of work for something I didn’t care for. But I wanted to try her book of short stories. I have been on hold for it since the summer (no, really) and it finally came in at the same time as approximately 17 other books I had put on hold at random times. This is bad, but at least short stories read quickly.

You know how I like to set my books on the counter and read them while I make dinner? I get asked about this a lot – do I get food on them? Yes, sometimes. I wipe it off. If it’s someone else’s book (or a library book), I am always particularly careful, though. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about how the first story of this book features, right off the bat, a sex scene between two people “with three children, two marriages, and a hundred and ten years between [them].” It’s not a long sex scene, for the record. But it was what I was reading when Mike came home and we started making dinner. I set the book on the counter as I was dicing the chicken, and I suddenly became COMPLETELY PARANOID that Mike was going to read the sex scene and think I was reading something trashy. So I started covering it up, which did, in fact, get his attention. He made fun of me for the rest of the night, asking how the sex book was going. So that worked out well for me. (There wasn’t very much sex after that, for the record.)

I don’t know why I just told you that incredibly embarrassing story. What I wanted to tell you was how much I liked this book more than Away. Maybe because it’s about love and family in ways that Away just wasn’t for me. It’s hard to talk about short stories, but here is a passage – a sentence, really – that I thought was beautiful, from a short story about a woman who works as a nurse with people who have special needs. She’s writing a letter to one of her former patients who had an amputated leg and has now run triathlons and been featured on the cover of People.

I have somehow not had the right things for this journey and I have packed and repacked a hundred times as if somehow the right thing will be found in some small pocket, put in by someone with more sense or gift than me, but I’m always scrambling for the last-minute thing and I am always, always watching the boat pull away without me.

Your family was one of my early boats and you were the bright and amazing sail, and I am, as I said at the beginning, very very proud of you.

Two of the sections are linked stories, and those were my favorites, although I enjoyed all of the book. I think short stories can be a tough sell, but I’d recommend this for anyone who thought Away sounded interesting. The combination of the topics plus the shorter length made this one better for me overall.

Published:
1/29/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
None

Grasping for truth.

On Sunday, we had our deacon ordination. Two new deacons were ordained, and I was officially relieved of my deaconate duties. At least for now. When the pastor was thanking those of us who rotated off, he mentioned the man who was the deacon chair my first year on the deaconate, our friend who passed away a little more than a year ago. I felt a sharp, sad pain when I heard that, reminding me how much we miss him.

I never wrote about my own ordination, in part because it was a personal, private experience and in part because, at the time, I was still in a fog of sadness after my dad’s death. And I was therefore not as emotionally present for it as I would have liked to be. At the end of Sunday’s ordination, the pastors helped the two new deacons up off the floor where they were kneeling (your feet can go kind of numb after kneeling that long, even on a pillow), and I mentioned to Mike that our friend had been the one to help me up. It was the wrong thing to say, because it hit both of us, again, with the loss of him. Tears burned in my eyes as we started singing the next hymn, and I was again surprised to feel that sharp pain.

The sermon was about the romantic illusions we have about serving other people vs. the grunt work that it actually is: long meetings, time away from your family, complaints, inconveniences. Our pastor suggested that, without the illusions we have about how wonderfully things might turn out, we might never actually step out in faith and serve. And then he said something beautiful: that when we reach for that illusion, what we grasp is the truth. And what we get then is something hard and real that changes and grows us.

This is true for more than just illusions about service. It applies to our illusions about relationships and romance, about parenting, about work and helping others. I have thought about what he said this week, because I have lived a lot of my life focusing on illusions, especially these two: the idea of a perfect family and the idea of long-term friendships. I am bad at relationships when times are hard, because I am not good at living in those hard and real moments. Sometimes I feel that I have had enough truth. Oh, I give lip service to that grasping, but what I really want is the illusion, and I don’t know what to do in my own life when it’s not there. I don’t know what to say to other people when it’s hard. I don’t know how to take the time to visit people in the hospital. I don’t have cards stockpiled, and I forget to send them. I hesitate to pick up the phone. I am so worried about saying or doing the wrong thing that I do nothing at all, and it hurts people. It’s why I feel that I was not the best deacon that I could have been – I didn’t manage to reach past the idea of serving to do what it was that actually needed to be done. I was involved in my own cares and concerns and life, and sometimes they were all I could manage. I believe that, even though I wasn’t able to do it, if I had been able to step outside of myself and care for other people, some of those other challenges would have taken care of themselves. Because I would not have been thinking about myself quite so much. That is one of the areas of following Jesus where I still have quite a lot to learn.

I imagine that the deacon ordination will always be a time that I think of my dad and our friend and how I miss them. That my dad wasn’t there, that my friend, who knew a thing or two about truth and illusions, was there to pull me to my feet after mine. The fact that they are no longer here is one of those hard, real truths that I am still learning how to hold.


Our friend’s house, a place where Mike spent a lot of time.

Published:
1/27/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
1 Comment

What they do is not art.

As part of my fall manifesto, I intended to sign up for an art class with several of my coworkers. It ended up not working out because of timing and scheduling, but a few of us have decided to take a pottery class this spring, starting in March. I am equal parts excited and frightened, because I am not exactly what you call “good at art.” I am one of those students who passed art in middle school because I put in a lot of effort, not because my product was actually any good. And in high school, I don’t think I ever even went in the art room. I’m not great with color and I wouldn’t say I have an artist’s eye. Where I feel most comfortable is the world of words. I see the way that Brian can pick up a pencil and the line and color flow out of him. That’s how I feel about sitting down to a brand new Word document. My house is decorated with words and letters rather than ruffles and frills. I am learning to embrace that while also trying to stretch myself.


(Various and sundry words from around our house.)

This year, because of the art project I have worked on at school, I have had the opportunity to see students come alive through art. There is one student in particular, one all the teachers on the team keep mentioning. The art projects have completely changed his relationship with school, and specifically his relationship with his teachers. I know it has improved his relationship with me exponentially. For that reason, I have begun to see this art project as more than just something fun for students. It is an important out let, even for the ones, like me, who struggle with the creative process.

That’s not to say the project hasn’t had its bumps, even for me personally. At one of our workshops, we used colored tape to decorate boards. I had no idea what to do and ended up making something with the word courage on it. The woman in charge read what I was doing as cougar and (I am sure unintentionally) turned my “art” into the butt of the room’s joke. It was a good reminder to me to be careful and supportive when responding to student work in areas where they are most insecure.


(Courage, not cougar.)

For one of our projects this year, we designed and painted tiles. I painted a penguin on a tile, and, for the first time, felt proud of some art I had created. I keep joking that, for my pottery class, I am going to make snakes (or a coil pot or a pinch pot), but I am looking forward to trying something new.


(I drew that picture and painted that tile all by myself! True story!)

Madeleine L’Engle is very big on the concept of humans being co-creators with God. She often mentions it when talking about the creative process: using the gifts God has given you to put something new into the world. While I very much doubt that anything I create in my pottery class will be considered new or beautiful (more like what Toby said on The Office: “Well, it’s important to support local art, you know? What they do is not art.”), I agree with her that participating in the creative process is important and life-giving.

I’m never going to be an artist. In the past, even going to those pottery painting places has been fraught with peril. But if I am going to say and believe that creating art is important for my students, I want to believe it for myself, too. As someone who has always found school and learning to be relatively easy, it’s good for me to struggle once in a while. Maybe I’ll even have a lumpy vase to show for it.

Published:
1/25/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
4 Comments

As to me I know of nothing else but miracles.

“Miracles” by Walt Whitman

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim–the rocks–the motion of the waves–the ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

On Thursday, I worked through this poem with a student. He was doing the work. I was just helping him read it, because, even though he is hilarious and smart as a whip, he needs help pushing through words rather than going back. When he started the poem, he lamented that it didn’t rhyme, and I mentioned that I like poems that don’t rhyme. But he said the rhythm of poems that rhyme helps him keep going, which is, of course, a valid point. I told him that I like Walt Whitman, and that I like this poem. He nodded, took that in, and went on.

When he got about a third of the way through, he said, “I get it, he sees everyday life as a miracle. Why couldn’t he just say that?” (Sixth grader. Told you he was smart as a whip.) I told him that then it wouldn’t be a poem. And that we still had to finish it. We laughed together, and then he made his way through the rest. When he finished, he turned the page and said, “That’s a good poem.” I have no idea if he really thought that or if he was just humoring me. I like to think that Uncle Walt would have appreciated the student’s thoughts (even his disapproval) and all his hard work.

This student reminds me of my brother at his age. My brother is extremely bright but had to work very hard when it came to reading, for some similar reasons as this student and for some very different ones. I don’t know if I believe in big, life-changing miracles, but I believe in the ones that Uncle Walt is talking about here, the miraculous grace of the everyday gifts we receive. And today I thought about how one of mine is that my brother, who had to work so hard, is doing so well. It’s not a surprise, because he is smart and tough, but it’s still a gift.

(Here we are over the summer. Photo taken by Alexa’s Photography.)

I want to pick this student up and let him know that he’s going to be fine, that it’s hard right now but it’s going to be okay. That we appreciate his hard work and that he is a fun, cool kid. That we all believe in miracles on his behalf, and that things like his sense of humor and his ability to be both blunt and polite are tiny miracles for me. But, honestly, listening to him read to me, push through what was so hard for him . . . it was as much as I could do to keep from crying. I sat with him and I remembered all the afternoons that I watched my grandma sit with my brother and help push him through his homework just in the same way. It’s different, but it is also so achingly similar.

It’s not easy, working with kids. It can break your heart. And it can teach you to see the miracles everywhere. Thursday was a little bit of both.

Published:
1/22/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
14 Comments

Interview with Iain Lawrence, author of The Giant-Slayer

We’ve been very bookish here this week, which is kind of unusual. Next week, I expect things to settle back into a more normal routine. Blame the ALA awards plus me having a day off to get reading done plus the fact that I have discovered that I can totally read on the elliptical when I go to the gym, which means I have been knocking out huge chunks of books while exercising. That is basically my dream sort of exercising, right there. Burning calories while reading. Anyway, things should be a little more balanced next week.

A few weeks ago, I read The Giant-Slayer, which is a sweet book about children coping with a terrible disease through the power of story. I have thought more about this book since finishing it, and one of the things I especially liked was that the stories they told taught each other (and themselves) the truth about who they were and what they were made of. After I finished it, Iain Lawrence was kind enough to answer some of my questions about the book. As an extra bonus, he also mentions Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Did you always envision doing a combination historical fiction/fantasy, or did it start out as two separate stories that started to work together?

Iain Lawrence: The Giant-Slayer began as two very different projects. The basic tale of Collosso was one of the first things I wrote, more than a decade before The Giant-Slayer. In its earliest form it told the story of a wood nymph who was trying to protect the last herd of unicorns in the whole world, and of Khan, the hunter who was trying to kill them. Jimmy the Giant Killer was a secondary character, not a boy, but a very small man who drove a very big wagon. Khan teamed up with him to kill the giant called Collosso. My agent at the time didn’t care for the story at all, so I put it away in my box of failed projects. But I never got the characters out of my mind, and from time to time I wondered if I should try to rewrite the story.

For the second project, I was looking for a way to tie together linked stories. It was only a vague idea. I didn’t have any particular stories in mind, or any particular way to connect them. But when I saw an old photograph of five children in one enormous iron lung, I thought I’d found the perfect link. I imagined telling of each child’s experience with polio, and showing how five strangers could be brought together by the disease. But it was soon obvious, when I began the research, that the stories would be substantially the same. I don’t remember how I thought of having one character tell a story to the others, but it was a fortunate turn of mind that came a long time later.

Was polio a topic you were interested in writing about before you saw the picture of the children all together? Or did you happen across the picture and that inspired the story?

Iain Lawrence: The photograph was in Google images, and I’m quite sure that I deliberately searched for it. But I don’t remember why it was not with any thought of writing about polio.

Much of this book is set in a hospital. Have you ever had to spend much time in the hospital yourself?

Iain Lawrence: During most of my childhood, my father worked in hospitals. I was often taken to meet him at lunch or at the end of his day. So the sounds and smells – and some of the sights – of hospitals are very much a part of me.

What made you decide the enemy would be a giant rather than a dragon or a troll?

Iain Lawrence: I think the image of a tiny person driving a huge giant-killing wagon was the image that eventually inspired a whole novel. I saw the wagon first, with its team of a hundred oxen, its rock-crushing wheels, and its spidery tower where a little man could sit. I also liked the name Jimmy the Giant Killer. That was long before Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I worry now that people will think I was inspired by Buffy.

Thanks to Iain Lawrence for answering my questions! Find out more about his other books here.

Published:
1/21/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
None

Dizzy in Your Eyes: Poems About Love by Pat Mora

I think that picking up a book of poetry can be hard. I relate better to poems when they are in a different sort of context, when someone tells me why he or she likes a poem. This is why I often try to frame the poems I post here, so that people will know why a poem connected with me rather than just posting a poem in isolation. But my interest in poetry and my specific interest in helping students connect with poetry in a meaningful way made me very interested to see what Dizzy in Your Eyes had to offer. The day that it came in the mail, I came home and Mike had already opened it, and while I worked on dinner, he read the first couple of poems to me because he had enjoyed what he read and wanted me to read it, too.

This is a book about all kinds of love: romantic love, parents and grandparents for children, sisters, friends, and even teachers. As it moves through different aspects of love (infatuation, losing a loved one, moving on, and learning to love again), the book also experiments with different forms of poetry. The poems are all on the right side of the page, and any explanation of form is on the left so as not to distract.

It can be difficult for students to relate to poetry like they relate to songs, but I think this is a great book of poetry for teens and preteens. It’s about topics they are familiar with and it discusses those thoughts and emotions without talking down to teenagers. When I worked in a public library, we constantly got questions from teenagers who wanted love poetry. If I was still there, this is a book I would try to get in the hands of those interested teenagers, because I think it would be exactly the sort of thing many of them were looking for. I enjoyed many of the poems, but this one, close to the end, was my favorite.

“Mysterious”

My paper shines
white, like snow,
but the paper looks empty.
I could decorate it
with tiny spiders
or stars or sketches of me
looking at a blank page,
but the clock ticks, and
somehow I must write.

I like the sight
of untouched snow.
Gentle, slow, silent,
it drifts and swirls,
layers itself, and I see
a new world of mysterious,
inviting shapes. I walk in its white
whispers, susurrus.
                                 I drift
back to this paper that feels
hard on the desk, and I begin
         to listen—
to the story I tell myself.

The paper is a white, patient place,
my private space
for remembering,
          saving: spring sun on my face,
venting and inventing,
          arguing with my mother,
wondering: who am I,
          wandering through cobwebs of old dreams,
crying, sighing at people who don’t see me,
          hoping to write music so blue
                   listeners forget to breathe,
playing the sounds, jamming with myself,

changing
          into the me I can’t quite see.

I liked Dizzy in Your Eyes best when it didn’t rhyme, but I will admit that my personal preference is for poetry that doesn’t rhyme. I am going to add it to my school’s collection and show it to some of the teachers who may be talking about love poetry for Valentine’s Day or National Poetry Month in the hopes that they will be able to use it to help students see that the best sorts of poetry are about things that are meaningful to you, no matter how big or small they might seem to other people.

Random House provided me with a copy of this book to review.

Published:
1/20/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
None

La’s Orchestra Saves the World by Alexander McCall Smith

Three things about this picture:
1. Our sunroom is very bright! I am always surprised when I see the pictures.
2. My actual mug that I always use has been missing since last Monday. I might have left it in a teacher’s classroom? No one can find it. I bought a new one yesterday afternoon, but I took this picture yesterday morning. So the gingerbread man mug is what you get. It was a gift from one of the students in our Sunday School class.
3. Don’t you enjoy the 14-day stickers the library uses? I can’t tell you how many times they have come off in my bag. Which is something I feel kind of guilty about.

In some ways, this is a different sort of book for Alexander McCall Smith. I am always impressed at how his books can have very specific characters and he is able to get in the mind of each of them (even the detestable Irene in the 44 Scotland Street series) but there is a certain tone to all of his books that is part of what makes them so special. La’s Orchestra, set during a war, was muted in some ways, but the essentials were still there: the care that was taken with the characters, the internal struggles they have to do what is right, the belief that putting goodness rather than hatred into the world is its own reward.

This book is about La (short for Lavender), a young woman who finds herself a widow in the early days of World War II. After moving to the English countryside, she finds herself helping in the war effort by taking care of hens and, eventually, starting an orchestra for the people and servicemen who live nearby. Like all of Alexander McCall Smith’s books, this one is less about what happens and more about the people who respond to the trials and tribulations of everyday life (in this case, wartime everyday life).

One of the reviews I read recommended this book for fans of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows, and that was an apt comparison. That book had a bit more to the story, but the idea was the same: normal people doing what they had to do to survive the war. I loved both of those books for very different reasons: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is more about courage and hardship, while La’s Orchestra has the benefit of Alexander McCall Smith’s gentle grace. I recommend it, as I recommend all of his books, to people who care about characters and the things, large and small, that happen to them.

Published:
1/19/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
1 Comment

ALA winners!

This morning the ALA awards came out. There has been much excitement at our house about them, and I have been placing books on hold all morning. I wanted to highlight a few of the winners that I read in the past year that I recommend as well.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead: This year’s Newbery winner is, as I said, a worthy middle-grade heir to A Wrinkle in Time and is a special book that both Mike and I were happy to have read. We may or may not have high-fived when we saw that it won.

Going Bovine by Libba Bray: This year’s Printz winner! I had some trouble getting into this one, but I am so glad I stuck with it. For fans of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Don Quixote. This is a smart book for smart teens, and I am glad they chose to honor it.

The Magicians by Lev Grossman: This book is an Alex Award winner, which is a book for adults that has appeal to teen audiences. I never actually wrote it up, but this is a darker fantasy – Harry Potter for grownups with a bit of a “secret society” feel added in for good measure.

Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco X. Stork: I thought Going Bovine might win the Printz, but I am disappointed that this one didn’t at least win a Printz Honor. However, I am happy that it won a Schneider Family Book Award, which is an award “for books that embody an artistic expression of the disability experience.” Marcelo has a form of Asperger’s, and it’s true that he has difficulties in “the real world,” but Marcelo’s world is so wonderful that you might find yourself being a bit jealous of him.

Return to Sender by Julia Alvarez: This book won the Pura Belpre award, which is presented to a Latino/Latina writer and illustrator whose work best portrays, affirms, and celebrates the Latino cultural experience. This is an issue that is close to home for me, as I am from a town that has a lot of Latino immigrants, and I was very impressed with the way this book dealt with those issues in a way that teens and preteens can understand.

Here are a few books I’ve placed on hold this morning: The Bride’s Farewell by Meg Rosoff (another Alex Award winner), Flash Burnout by L.K. Madigan (William C. Morris Award), and My Abandonment by Peter Rock (another Alex winner).

Published:
1/18/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
1 Comment

Days, nights, stories.

We have been speaking of mix CDs here lately, and one reason they have been on my mind is that we’ve been hard at work on some for a few weeks. Before we went to New York this fall, Mike kept saying he’d like to make a New York playlist. But, with one thing and another (that means H1N1 and Alisa’s wedding), it never got made. Over our winter break, I mentioned to Mike that since Alisa spent her honeymoon in New York, she might enjoy it if we made her a New York CD for her birthday.

Since Mike is, of course, the man who makes seven Christmas lasagnas instead of just one or two, he is also the man who makes three mix CDs instead of just one. With my suggestions, his suggestions, and the internet’s suggestions, we ended up dividing the songs into three different categories: days, nights, and stories. I’ve been itching to post them, and we gave the CDs to Alisa on Saturday, so here are the playlists with our thoughts.

Disc 1: New York City Days
1. “NYC—Gone, Gone” by Conor Oberst –This is a perfect song to open a disc that is ready to rock your head. It’s quick and catchy. (Mike)
2. “New York City”—John Lennon—Make sure you walk by The Dakota on your way to Central Park to visit Strawberry Fields. (Mike and Kari)
3. “NYC”—Steve Earle—This is a song that one of our stoned listeners requested on a weekly basis on our radio station. Whenever I played Steve Earle, he’d call and talk to me for 15 minutes in incoherent sentences. I finally downloaded the song for him, which is awesome, played Steve Earle and waited for him to call. He never did. (Mike)
4. “Goin’ to New York Town”—Counting Crows—“I met a girl with autumn in her eyes.” I’m glad I put this on the CD because I forgot how awesome that line was. (Mike)
5. “At the Zoo”—Simon & Garfunkel— This is about the Central Park Zoo, and it’s by one of my favorite bands. Win-win.(Kari)
6. “New York City”—They Might Be Giants— This is another of my favorite bands! I had never heard this song until we started looking for things for these CDs and this song is really great and fun. I like how it lists all the landmarks and is also a little romantic. (Kari)
7. “Chicago”—Sufjan Stevens— Every CD gets a gimmicky song. And this one really does mention New York, even though it’s called “Chicago.” So I petitioned for its inclusion. (Kari)
8. “Apartment Story”—The National—This is a Brooklyn band that is fantastic. This is from the album Boxer (coincidence?). This is my favorite song. It makes me imagine living in Brooklyn. (Mike)
9. “The Only Living Boy In New York”—Simon & Garfunkel—Why this is on the soundtrack for Garden State is almost as ironic as having Chicago on this CD. My favorite song by S&G. (Mike)
10. “Sixth Avenue Heartache”—The Wallflowers—For many years I loved this song because it had background vocals by Adam Duritz. However, after Counting Crows have come down a couple of notches on my favorite bands ladder, I’ve come to appreciate this song for being a great songs. (Mike)
11. “Marching Bands of Manhattan”—Deathcab For Cutie— This is a song I love all year long. Sad songs about relationships, what more could you want? (Kari)
12. “Lovecraft in Brooklyn”—The Mountain Goats—Lovecraft is the author H.P. Lovecraft, who had a hard time when he lived in Brooklyn. Also, I love the Mountain Goats. (Kari)
13. “The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)”—Simon & Garfunkel— I remember my mom singing along to this song when I was very little. I get my S&G fandom from her. (Kari)
14. “Walking Thru the Park”—Muddy Waters—Muddy Waters is an influence on M. Ward. This is a good song for walking through any of the parks in NYC, but I always imagine Central Park. (Mike)
15. “New York”—U2—This is just a great love song to New York.(Kari)
16. “New York, New York”—Ryan Adams—The chorus to the song was Jason’s last NYC Tweet on your honeymoon and it’s a nice way to end the day. (Mike)

Disc 2: New York City Nights
This might be my favorite of the three because I love the magic of the city that never sleeps. From the bright lights of Times Square to the men playing their barrels on the corner and singing at the top of their lungs at 3 in the morning. (Mike)
1. “Theme from New York, New York”—Frank Sinatra—How can you not have this song a New York City mix? It is the song that defines a city. (Mike)
2. “On Broadway”—The Drifters—I always sing this song in my head when I’m on Broadway. I’m sure I’m not alone. (Mike)
3. “New York State of Mind”—Billy Joel—This is a great nighttime song for walking the streets of NY. (Mike)
4. “Hotel Chelsea Nights”—Ryan Adams—Another Ryan Adams song. Here he is very depressed. New York can do that to you. (Mike)
5. “Back to Manhattan”—Norah Jones—1st of 2 Norah Jones songs on this disc. (Mike)
6. “If This City Never Sleeps”—Rosie Thomas—A beautiful sad song about dreams and hope. (Kari)
7. “City”—Sara Bareilles—Another beautiful song about dreams and hope. (Mike)
8. “Autumn in New York”—Charlie Parker—Autumn in New York, you know how beautiful it is!(Mike)
9. “New York City”—The Peter Malick Group—2nd Norah Jones song. (Mike)
10. “Chelsea”—Counting Crows—This was a treasure on the Across a Wire: Live from New York album. This is one of my favorite Counting Crows’ song. (Mike)
11. “My Blue Manhattan”—Ryan Adams—Too much Ryan Adams? Never. (Mike)
12. “Up on the Roof”—The Drifters—I had a hard time deciding which version of this song to pick. I went with classic over all the other choices. (Mike)
13. “Luck Be a Lady”—Frank Sinatra—As you know, this is from Guys and Dolls, I prefer Marlon Brando singing this as to Frank Sinatra, I hope you agree with that statement. However, I did not have a version of him singing the song. (Mike)
14. “Last Night in Soho”—Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Titch—This song is awesome. Thanks to Quentin Tarantino for introducing me to this band. (Mike)
15. “Don’t Sleep in the Subway”—Petula Clark—I love oldies and since there are no appropriate Beatles songs for these CDs, you get the female version of the British Invasion instead.(Kari)
16. “Leaving New York”—REM—The chorus says it all: Leaving New York, never easy. I saw the lights fading out. (Mike)

Disc 3: New York City Stories: Everybody who goes to the city has a story to tell.
1. “Hard Times in New York Town”—Bob Dylan—There were several Bob Dylan songs to choose from that would have fit nicely on this disc. I chose this one because it is poignant. I also like opening CDs with classics. (Mike)
2. “Into Brooklyn, Early in the Morning”—The Innocence Mission— I have such fond memories of listening to this song while in Brooklyn. Waking up in a Brooklyn apartment on an autumn morning with the window open and the sun beaming in is the most powerful image in my mind. (Mike)
3. “Song for Myla Goldberg”—The Decemberists—A CD with narrative. Of course The Decemberists wanted to be a part of it. Kari helped me remember that they reference New York in this song. This a live version from SoHo. I think it might have been at the Apple Store, but don’t quote me on that. (Mike)
4. “12 West Front Street”—Steven Delopoulos—This song feels like New York to me. I don’t know if it is about NY, but I want to believe it is. (Mike)
5. “New York’s Not My Home”—Jim Croce—I, for reasons unknown to me, associate Jim Croce’s voice with New York. This goes along with one theme of the CDs that NY is magical, but can be a lonely place when your dreams are dashed against the rocks or reality. (Mike)
6. “The Boxer”—Simon & Garfunkel— This is one of my all-time favorite songs, about how hard it is to live in New York and how he refuses to let the city beat him down. It breaks my heart almost every time. (Kari)
7. “Washington Square”—Counting Crows—I remember walking around Washington Square Park last summer waiting for our reservations to Mario Batali’s restaurant. It was so much the idyllic park with people walking dogs, and young and old men playing chess. (Mike)
8. “The Hands That Built America”—U2—The building of New York and the early immigrants of the city is something I am fascinated with. It is why I love The Godfather II so much. This song, which is featured in Gangs of New York, reminds of my family’s heritage into being a part of building New York. (Mike)
9. “American Tune”—Paul Simon—When I was trying to find a copy of Paul Simon playing “The Boxer” on SNL when it came back after 9/11, I saw a lot of people say that this is the song he should have played instead. But lines like, “And I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered, I don’t have a friend who feels at ease,” would surely have been hard to sing. (Kari)
10. “My City of Ruins”—Bruce Springsteen—True story, this song was actually written in 2000 before 9/11, but everybody remembers it because Springsteen performed it on the telethon. I love how achingly sad it is. (Kari)
11. “City of Immigrants”—Steve Earle—This is from Steve Earle’s album he recorded after 9/11 about how resilient New York is. (Mike)
12. “Coney Island”—Deathcab for Cutie—My cousin says Coney Island is his favorite place on the planet. Mike and I haven’t been yet, but next time we visit New York, we’re definitely going to Coney Island. (Kari)
13. “All the Way to New York City”—Rosie Thomas—I have a special love for Rosie Thomas, and I adore how delightful this song makes New York sound in the winter.(Kari)
14. “I and Love and You”—the Avett Brothers—I insisted that Mike download this album because people kept talking about it, and then we both fell hard for this song. I am a sucker for all things Brooklyn.(Kari)
15. “Downtown Train”—Tom Waits—I was not familiar with this song until I was searching for some New York themed songs to make disc 3 complete. We often play Tom Waits on our radio show during the summer. I was glad to see a city themed song by him and I think it fits nicely at the end of the collection. (Mike)
16. “Postlude- Critical Mass”—Sufjan Stevens— I insisted that one of Sufjan’s songs from his BQE album make the cut. I think the music here is really lovely, and I like that he wrote it about a road. (Kari)

Now, our disclaimer is that we didn’t want to fill every CD with songs by Simon and Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, and Bruce Springsteen, but if we were making a playlist instead of CDs, we’d probably have more of all three of those artists. We are happy with what we’ve got here, though. We both looked at a lot of New York playlists and songs online, and I think these CDs stand up to any of those.

What songs make you think of New York? What songs did we leave off that you would insist upon? (Don’t say “Uptown Girl”, because we left that one off on purpose.)

Published:
1/17/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
13 Comments

Perspective.

I am sorry that I did not get the CD winners posted yesterday. You would think that the first week after a vacation would be the difficult one. But you would be wrong. Last week was fine. This week has sucked big-time. I mean, there have been some nice things, like eating Mexican food and having a working shower and new doorknobs and nice phone conversations with people you don’t usually talk to. But there have also been some crummy things like snapping at people even when you don’t want to. And having your feelings hurt. And feeling like a failure. You know, the usual.

But today was much better. And before Mike left to see Fight Club (which is all I have to say about that), I got him to draw names out of that filthy hat up there. Here are our winners!

Judy, Danielle, and Alisa Beth, I will be emailing you about your taste in music so as to make you a CD that does not totally offend you.

In other news, my friend Emily posted something today about things that make her cry. The one thing that I can think of that is making me cry is all the news and pictures I keep seeing from Haiti. That certainly helped put my “bad week” in perspective. Bethany posted a beautiful prayer for Haiti that I am going to post here as well. If you haven’t already donated to relief efforts, please consider doing so. We’re going to set up a penny drive at my school, so my students have another opportunity to give to those in need. I am sure I will be humbled by their generosity yet again.

Adonai.
You who makes the mountains tremble and causes the seas to rage.
We call upon the one who calms the waters with a word.
We cry out on behalf of a broken land.
We cry out on behalf of a broken people.
We cry out on behalf of a broken history.
Hear the cries of your people as you did in Egypt
when you rescued them from their slavery.
Hear the cries of your people as you did in Babylon
when you delivered them from their captivity.
Hear now the cries of your people for Haiti.
Save them from this devastation and darkness.
We plead for a land which the world has turned against.
Do not turn your face from them.
Torah tells us you are the God of compassion and of the orphan.
See now the tears of her children.
Your prophets tell us you are the God of justice and mercy.
Come be with this people.
Have mercy, Shaddai.
Lift your hand.
Do not turn away.
Do not turn away.
-Estaban Otero

Amen.

Published:
1/14/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
3 Comments

Quiet authenticity.

I enjoyed this post by Don Miller, which is sort of about what Pat Robertson said about Haiti but which is mostly about being thoughtful about your faith and thoughtful about what it means to respond to people who, it seems, are not being very thoughtful at all.

This, for me, was the pertinent quote:

When I’m with somebody who talks zealously about faith, about Jesus, about the Bible, after a while, I find myself wondering whether or not their faith is strong at all. For instance, if I were with somebody who kept talking about how much they loved their wife, going on loudly and profusely, intuitively I would wonder whether or not they were struggling in their marriage. I would wonder whether they were trying to convince me they loved their wife, or if they were just trying to convince themselves. Faith in Christ, for me, is similar. It’s intimate and private. I’m not comfortable giving loud prayers. I’m more comfortable giving quiet prayers, intimate prayers. Often alone, in fact. Of course there is a time for proclamations, but that’s the key, isn’t it? There’s a time. I love that the New Testament is mostly intimate letters written to small groups of people who met in homes. I like the quiet authenticity of our faith.

I have never thought about the New Testament like that before, but I like it, too. Of course there are times and places for being bold and taking a stand. But more often than not, faith is about what you do and how you act in the quiet.

Published:
1/13/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
3 Comments

Guest post by Lauren Kate, author of Fallen.

fallencoverToday’s post comes to you courtesy of Lauren Kate, the author of Fallen, which I reviewed here. It reminded me of a recent conversation I had about how good food, like good writing, takes both hard work and inspiration.

—

There was a time in my life when I was an aspiring novelist. In my teens and twenties, most of my endeavors pointed towards this aspiration:

I was creative writing major in college, spent five years as an editor at a publishing house, quit my job to move to California and go to graduate school for a masters degree in fiction, traveled as far as Alaska to speak at writers conferences, taught writing classes to undergrads at UC Davis. I marvel at people who were biochemists until they woke up one morning and poured out a novel. I guess I’ve always been a bit more single-minded.

That is, until I published my first novel. These days, I’m an aspiring chef…who also happens to be a writer by day. Being a full-time writer is fairly new to me and I don’t meant to come across as anything less than thrilled about it. I get to work wearing plaid slippers with dogs on them, you know? But it’s funny how finally doing the thing I’ve spent years working towards leaves me scrambling for the next ambition.

I’ve always loved to cook, but it wasn’t until recently that I started thinking seriously about making it a bigger part of my life—going to culinary school or getting a job in a kitchen. Right now, cooking is the thing that unwinds me; it’s a rest for my overwhelmed brain after writing ten pages in a day. Where writing is an ethereal, head-in-the-clouds kind of thing, cooking is tactile and grounded. Writing is solitary (the hardest thing about it for me), and cooking is best done with others. But this blog post has made me realize that the thing I love most about cooking may be precisely the same thing I love most about writing.

I grew up cooking with my dad, who is somewhat allergic to cookbooks. When he puts on an apron, chances are he’s going to wing it. This infuriates my mom because he has a hard time recreating the things that she likes—but there is something magical about Dad’s process to me.

I read cookbooks all the time—but I don’t usually cook with them. Similarly, I draw up outlines for each one my novels, sometimes ten pages of sketched out characters, scenes, and plot lines—but when I sit down to actually write, I hardly glance at my notes. Like my dad, I prefer to wing it.

It doesn’t always work, sometimes I want to tear my hair out over how completely uninspired my ten pages are at the end of the day. But the next day, I can start from scratch and hope again for magic. My best writing days are those where I veer away completely from the scene I’d intended to write, when my characters surprise me and carry me someplace new.

Five years from now, maybe I’ll have a food blog instead of a writing blog—and who knows what untold career ambition will be hatching inside of me then…

—

You can follow Lauren’s blog tour here. Next stop: A Patchwork of Books.

Published:
1/12/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
1 Comment

Once Was Lost by Sara Zarr

I have mentioned Sara Zarr several times before – I was a huge fan of Story of a Girl, I liked her thoughts on Acedia and Me, and she was a contributor to Jesus Girls. Just to mention a few. I asked for her new book for Christmas, and I was excited to read it, but words can’t express how happy it made me to open the front cover and see my favorite lyrics from one of my favorite Over the Rhine songs, “Long Lost Brother.” That’s a song that never comes off my iPod. (Mike is not the Over the Rhine fan that I am, but even he concedes that this might be their best song.) I took a picture so you could enjoy it as much as I did.

Once Was Lost is the story of Sam, a pastor’s daughter going through a crisis of faith. Her mother is in rehab after a DUI, her father is emotionally available to everyone except her, and a girl she knows at church has recently been kidnapped. What does it mean to lose faith in God, and what does it mean to lose faith in people? Sam feels she is drifting away from everything she has ever known as she asks these questions, and the big questions of the book are both, “Will the missing girl be found?” and, “Will Sam find anything to hold on to?”

If, as Nancy Pearl said, the four ways into a book are character, plot/story, setting, and language, I am definitely a character sort of person. And I love the way that Sara Zarr writes characters. Sam and her friends and family are real, fallible people with very real problems, but the story isn’t a classic YA problem novel. It’s just an exploration of the ways that people in a faith community can care for and hurt one another, and how one might survive that in an authentic way.

I don’t do stars for ratings, because it’s too complicated. I might think a book is good but not like it, or I might like it even if it’s not good. In this case, I can say without reservation that I both liked this book and think that it is worth recommending. The plot is tight, the tension stays high, and the characters are, as I said, well-written and believable. I tend to prefer realistic YA to fantasy, and if you do, too, this is definitely a book worth checking out. It’s awfully early to say this, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see this end up on my “favorites” list at the end of this year.

Tomorrow we will have a guest post by Lauren Kate, author of Fallen. And Wednesday or Thursday I’ll post the winners of the CD contest!

Published:
1/11/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
4 Comments

All shall love my bathroom and despair!

(With apologies to the Lady Galadriel.)

I promised some new pictures. Are you ready? We are not quite ready to reveal our “standing in the shower” shot to match up with this one, but we are getting closer to that every day.

Some highlights!

Cabinet and countertop in the laundry room (will have a sink in there soon):

Double sinks and countertop in the actual bathroom area:

Shelves in the closet, happy thought indeed!

(That is our closet, y’all. With shelves. I am so excited.)

Linen closet:

And here are some shots of the shower:

Shower floor:

And just a couple shots that show the bathroom floor:

The trim will all be white (Benjamin Moore’s Mountain Peak White, to be exact). We’re basically waiting for the plumbing and electricity to be hooked up, and then for the painting to be finished. We’re almost there!

More in our Flickr set, if you are interested.

Published:
1/10/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
5 Comments

The differences between us.

Scene: The Farmer’s Market, Saturday morning. At a booth of homemade crafts, Mike and Kari spot a snowman in a similar posture to the one on the left, scooping up snow with a shovel.

MIKE: Aw! He’s making himself a family!

KARI: Or cleaning up the scene of a murder.

That . . . pretty much sums up our personalities. In two sentences. (Come on, you have to admit, if I was shoveling body parts and blood, it wouldn’t be charming.) (Also, the actual snowman at the Farmer’s Market was much cuter, but since I had just insulted the snowman with the darkness of my thoughts, Mike was decidedly unwilling to get out his phone to take a picture. This is the best I could find.)

Published:
1/9/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
7 Comments

Beautiful and terrible things will happen.

The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn’t have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It’s for you I created the universe. I love you. There’s only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you’ll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too. -Frederick Buechner

I used the first part of this quote back at the end of November, but I decided I wanted to go ahead and post the entire thing (luckily I reserved the right to revisit it). I have been thinking some more about the idea of writing a story with your life, and I am challenged by the idea of reaching out and taking the gift of grace. Maybe that’s not too surprising, since I tend to hold back. To keep from being rejected. To keep from being embarrassed. Because it hurts. Because I have all these holes in my life and there seems to be no way to fill them. Because I am afraid.

But part of the story I want to write with my life is about taking the offered gift: the hand of friendship, the time, the kind word, the beautiful day, the way words turn into sentences and sentences into stories. Of those, the only ones that I ever accept without reservation are the stories that I can take in without having to share myself with anyone else. We just celebrated Christmas, and I have been overwhelmed with what Jesus gave up to come and be with us, what he shared with us, and what he offers us. I don’t always know what to do with strong emotion, and what emotion could be stronger than the love of God that compels him to come to earth as a baby?

The confidence that enables people to accept gifts graciously always seems like a gift in itself, and one that I admire and envy. But looking at the quote makes me wonder . . . if those are the things that the grace of God is offering to me, what business do I have to be afraid?

—

Don’t forget, today is the last day to enter to win a mix CD!

Published:
1/8/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
1 Comment

The Giant-Slayer by Iain Lawrence

We have a lot of books at school with covers like this, and they check out, but I have to admit that it’s not my favorite sort of cover art. In this case, the cover art is also a little bit misleading, because this is not just a book about a small boy who grows up (or, in his case, stays the same size) to be a giant-slayer. It’s also about a group of children facing another sort of giant: polio.

After Laurie and Dickie play in the neighborhood creek, Dickie comes down with polio. When Laurie goes to visit him in the hospital, she begins to entertain him and the other polio patients by telling them a story about a boy who was destined to slay a giant. As the story unfolds with wishes and witches and gnomes and unicorns, each child finds himself or herself in it in some way. Will little Jimmy slay the giant? And will the polio vaccine that Laurie’s father is working on help slay the giant that has taken so much from her friends?

This is a wonderful, sweet story, and I loved the ways that the two stories combined to make something greater. Lawrence handled the polio information well, giving enough to keep readers interested without weighing down the story. And Laurie’s story is a charming mash-up of characters and legends just as an eleven-year-old might tell it. The only thing I didn’t like about the book turned out to be the cover. Here’s hoping my students are smarter than I am, and take a peek at what’s inside. (Recommended for grades 4-6.)

Random House provided me with a copy of this book to review.

Published:
1/7/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
1 Comment

Like the stars across the heavens flung.

When Descartes said, “I think, therefore I am,” he did us no favor, but further fragmented us, making us limit ourselves to the cognitive at the expense of the imaginative and the intuitive. But each time we read the gospels, we are offered anew this healing reconciliation and, if we will, we can accept the most wondrous gift of the magi.

My icon [a symbol or metaphor pointing to God] for Epiphany is the glory of the heavens at night, a cold clear night when the stars are more brilliant than diamonds. The wise men looked at the stars, and what they saw called them away from their comfortable dwellings and toward Bethlehem. When I look at the stars, I see God’s glory in the wonder of creation . . . [W]e have not been as wise as the three magi who came from their far corners of the world, seeking the new king, the king who was merely a child.

Surely if the world is as interdependent as the discoveries of particle physics imply, then what happens among the stars does make a difference to our daily lives. But the stars will not and should not tell us the future. They are not to be worshiped. Like the wise men, we no longer bring presents to the moon and the stars, for this child made the moon and the stars. Alleluia! -Madeleine L’Engle, from Episcopal Life, January 1993

Today is Epiphany, and the above is today’s reading from Glimpses of Grace, which I got for Christmas. Today I have been thinking about the star that led the wise men to the baby born to be king. Looking at the stars gives me a comfortable safe feeling, the idea that God knows them each by name, that each star has a place in his creation. I love the idea of the stars pointing us to God just as the star led the Wise Men to Jesus all those years ago. The things that point us to God are often things that take us away from what is easy and safe. Epiphany is a reminder that, as we travel into the unknown, the symbols that point us to God can remind us that he is with us.

Though many people were done with Christmas 12 days ago, I am happy for this one last celebration of the birth of Jesus, who came to earth as man-and-God to offer us a better life, both here and in the world beyond.

Published:
1/6/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
6 Comments

Tell a story.

“Humility, like darkness, reveals the heavenly lights.” -Henry David Thoreau

When I was in high school, we did a section on Thoreau and Emerson. I found nothing to like about them, and in my reflection, slammed them quite a bit, calling them self-centered and self-important. I still have very little use for them, but I have come to appreciate what they were doing a little bit more than I did then. I have also come to realize that it was maybe not the place of a junior in high school to determine whether Thoreau and Emerson were as great as they thought they were. Or whether they were great at all. Students like me are the reason I am glad I don’t teach high school English. I doubt my work was revealing any heavenly lights.

I ran across this quote over my winter break, which seemed convenient since the new year is always a good time to think about where changes need to be made. The past few weeks, as 2009 was winding down, one thing that I began to realize is that, in the busyness of life, I have let too many things slide, especially when it comes to relationships. It is difficult for me to balance working full-time with much of anything else, and I have had quite a lot else going on. When I come home from work, I really just want to put on my pajamas and relax. I do not want to leave my house. I do not want to pick up the phone. I do not even really want to get on email. The Bible is very clear on the idea that we need people. I am less clear on how to make that happen when life is wearing me out. I am lucky that I have such good, patient friends and family, because they have put up with a lot.

I don’t really do resolutions, but I enjoyed this post by Don Miller in which he talked about living a good story. I haven’t read his latest book, but I love the idea of giving your goals a narrative context so that you know the kind of story you want your life to tell. I want my life to tell a story of rich relationships, of people I trust and can turn to. This year, with the extra time on my hands, I want to invest in the people around me. I want them to be more a part of the story of my life.

In order for that to happen, it’s not enough to write a blog post about feelings and motivation. It takes time and effort and some of that aforementioned humility to go with hat in hand and apologize for being unavailable, for being unable to prioritize. I have more respect for Mr. Thoreau than I used to. I hope he’s right about those heavenly lights.

Don’t forget to enter to win a mix CD if you haven’t already done so! If you need more examples of my mix CDs to entice you, here’s one I made for Alisa and here’s one I made for a CD swap. Oh, and here’s the left-handed mix I made last year.

Published:
1/3/2010 –
Author:
By Kari
Categories:
Comments:
5 Comments