The Days and Nights of Tiny Montgomery: I didn't feel pain, 'cause no-one can touch me/Now that I'm held in your spell

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

I didn't feel pain, 'cause no-one can touch me/Now that I'm held in your spell

It's been way too many days since I've posted and today (actually already tomorrow) isn't really an exception. I haven't had a day off work since last Thursday and while I spent over six hours in a coffee house online that day, I spent more time chatting and emailing with friends than thinking about the blog.

I promise more tomorrow when I will be suitably self-obsessed. In the meantime, who wants to hire me? I'm an ace exec assistant with a zillion years experience, I'm a DJ, I can craft a cunning piece of jewelry and sew a damn cute purse. And, last but not least, I can boss around baristas while making a delicious latte with one hand tied behind my back. Come on, I need a job, people!

Till tomorrow.

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What I'm Reading

Complicity by Iain Banks - Continuing my exploration of Banks and Scottish literature I delved into my third Banks novel, this one yet again completely different. The story of drug and drink addicted journo who gets inadvertently involved in a serial killer's revenge murders.
How to Be Good by Nick Hornby - It had its moments, but I got rather bored with it about 2/3 through. I'm not sure ole Nick ought to make his main characters female.
Sunshine by Robin McKinley - This book was recommended by the librarian who goes on NPR all the time and talks about summer books, etc. As it was about vampires, I had to try it anyway. And I kind of loved it. A completely new twist on vampires in a sort of alternate universe now. Unfortunately, the sex, while teased, wasn't what I hoped for. I thought I'd try some of her other titles, but the covers alone had me running away, screaming. Very florid, fantasy-type illustrations. Think I'll just stick with this one and the hoped-for sequel.
The Braindead Megaphone Essays by George Saunders - I'm only a few pages in but I've already belly laughed -- out loud while alone and at work! -- something I don't ususally do. I appreciate, very much, written humor, but it seldom makes me actually laugh out loud. George Saunders is so brilliant and so completely right on and so fucking funny. I love his surreal, absurdist fiction, but this book is so completely perfect.
The Business by Iain Banks - Completely unlike the Wasp Factory, but compelling nonetheless. The female main character doesn't always ring true, but the story turns out to be wotth it, despite my initial reservations.
The Secret History by Donna Tartt - Since she wrote a book I really loved, The Little Friend, I thought I should give this a try. I'm only a chapter or so in, so I'm withholding judgement for now.
The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks -- Whoa. This debut novel is like nothing I've read before. I have been known to physically throw books that feature animal abuse across the room in disgust, but this book uses it to further the story in a very effective way. I couldn't put it down.
You Don't Love Me Yet by Jonathan Lethem. Since I originally said I was reading this, I've read it at least three more times. (What? You listen to a record you like more than once, don't you?). I still can't really articulate why I love this book so much. There is just something that really speaks to me. Lethem is to be commended for writing a female character so perfectly.