Monday, September 25, 2006

Move Along, Folks. Nothing to See Here.

Honestly. I’ve been quiet because I’ve been busy with work and school, yes, but also because there just hasn’t been much going on. Sure, my son has proved yet again that he heals like Wolverine, as the stitches he had put in his face a week ago today (playing football at recess, fell face-first on the concrete), are all dissolved. His brush burns and bruises are gone as well, and if you didn’t look closely (and you weren’t his mother), you’d never know he’d been hurt at all. The school nurse and the ER staff all commented on what a brave kid he is, and I take full credit for that, thanks. If a kid’s mom doesn’t utter a peep during childbirth (and no, I am not a Scientologist), he’s pretty much guaranteed to be a stoic patient.

See? That’s the most interesting thing I have. There just hasn’t been much going on. I’m in reading Limbo, which is . . . well . . . approaching Hell. I have to read different kinds of genre fiction for the class I’m taking this semester, and it’s been rough. The thriller was okay—I chose Lee Child’s new one, The Hard Way, after a false start with Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth.* Interesting roots notwithstanding, I couldn’t get into the Follett and threw it aside for the Child, which I grabbed from the library’s bestseller shelf in desperation. Where the Follett read like a yawn-inducing television miniseries, the Child was more like a decent action movie. Do with those similes what you will, should you find yourself looking for a thriller.

I also had to read a romance. Gah! I love the girly books, like Jennifer Weiner and Katie Fforde and what-not, but this had to be an honest-to-god romance, so I chose a Nora Roberts. Beautiful woman meets and dislikes and then falls in love with jerky-at-first-but-ultimately-great handsome guy. Throw in some lust and passion, and then a fight near the end which almost-but-not-quite derails the happily ever after. Lather, rinse, repeat. Torture, I tell you. On the upside, though, there’s a guy in this class with me—I can’t wait to hear his take on the romance novel.

I just started The Stupidest Angel, which has been a tremendous improvement over the other crap. I really like getting to spend time with Christopher Moore’s characters, and this has the added bonus of fulfilling the fantasy requirement for my class. Finally, I catch a break. I have E.L. Doctorow’s The March on deck, for my historical fiction requirement. Things are looking up.

And now, I have to go back to work. Because people keep EXPECTING ME TO DO THINGS. God.

*Interesting and weird digression: I tried reading that Ken Follett because I had a copy of it at home. I *think* I got it years ago at a used book sale from the boy's pre-school. The day I started reading it, I turned to the inside cover to check the name of the previous owner. After a frantic/excited phone call to verify spelling and then a quick scan-to-email, it was verified that the book had belonged to none other than Babel Babe's mom. BB and I *know* that we've never discussed this book (or even Ken Follett), and that she didn't loan it to me or bring it to my house. It seems that it just made its way to me from her mom, who lived in New Jersey and dies eight years ago. If *that* doesn't mean we're meant to be friends, I don't know what does.

10 comments:

tut-tut said...

You're the only other person I've heard of who has admitted a liking for Katie fforde. Do you like other such British types--Hens Dancing by Raffaella Barker, or short stories by Helen Simpson?

Gina said...

I don't know them, but I'll look for them--thanks! :-)

Badger said...

Okay, I LOVED LOVED LOVED The Stupidest Angel. But then I love everything Christopher Moore does.

Preston-Child are my guilty pleasure.

Can't help on the romances. I have pretty much only read Bertrice Small, and that's only because she does her historical research AND her bedroom scenes are way graphic.

Ahem.

Joke said...

Insert Twilight Zone music here.

-J.

Gina said...

The Stupidest Angel has made me laugh out loud several times. I felt like such a rebel sitting at soccer practice last night, cackling over stoner humor.

And speaking of soccer, one of the dads asked what I was reading, but he'd never heard of Moore. I mentioned how funny it was, and he of course immediately asked if I'd read Confederacy of Dunces. I told him I had, and went on about my theory that the writers for The Simpsons had too, and based some of Comic Book Guy on Ignatius J., and then the dad wandered away.

I should calm down, shouldn't I? I get a little too excited when people act as if they might possibly want to talk about books, don't I? He was just being polite, wasn't he?

BabelBabe said...

No, he had read it but didn't remember anywhere near enough about it,other than mentioning it to impress girls : )You SCARED him.

Also, I adored that Rafaella Baker book, and for the life of me could not remember its title till you mentioned it, Tut-tut. I have to go see if she has any others....

Amy said...

It's Serendipity!! (you did see that movie, right? where she writes her name and number in a book...)yeah, it's that sort of a moment.

You need to stop talking about good books cause I still have a stack of ones you've talked about previously that I'm trying to get to!!

Katya said...

You know, I have tried several times to read that Ken Follett book -- I just can't do it.

I'm not a big fan of the romance genre either -- I have a friend who will read anything including romances but I'm just not a big fan of them.

I love Christopher Moore but have not read The Stupidest Angel -- how I could resist that title with it's wonderful subtitle (a Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror) I don't know. I keep thinking I have to read this at Christmas for some reason and then I forget.

Carolyn said...

I love that story. That is too neat.

Gina said...

Don't wait for Christmas, Katya!