Sometimes, I run out of reading material, but not really. I just run out of books that I haven’t read and can figure out which ones I haven’t, or if I do figure that bit out, which book to read first. I think it’s because of that charity book-bin compulsion. Or just seeing any used-book bin, or a free book bin. I just have to look and see what looks interesting. If it looks interesting enough, it becomes part of my collection. Once more out of reading material, and apparently bored for no reason, I went through my entire library (this doesn’t mean a room with shelves filled with books, this means books in rooms and sometimes on shelves), and pulled out all the books I’d yet to read.

I don’t know where to start. Actually, that’s a lie. I do. I’ve started with 1984 because I only pretend-read it in high school. See, they told me to read it, and of course, I didn’t. But recently (upon discovering a copy in a used book bin alongside Cliffs notes, Silas Marner, and Animal Farm), I realized that 1984 is exactly the sort of book I’d like—a dystopia. A friend of mine pointed me in the direction of two other books I possessed and hadn’t read—Fool’s Run and The Doomsday Book—and I liked both of them (Doomsday, I loved). So I’ve come to realize, a bit belatedly, that my friends know what I like. So, help me, dear friends, figure out what to read after 1984, and what to read after that. Here’s the book list:

• The Hall of the Mountain King, Judith Tarr
• The Lady of Han-Gilen, Judith Tarr
• Broca’s Brain, Carl Sagan
• Rusalka, C.J. Cherryh
• Ringworld, Larry Niven
• The Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury
• The Gods Themselves, Isaac Asimov (actually, with this one, I just need to be convinced to finish the last five or so pages).
• The Oathbound, Mercedes Lackey
• The Gate to Women’s Country, Sheri S. Tepper
• Star of Danger, Marion Zimmer Bradley
• The City and the Stars, Arthur C. Clarke
• Catspaw, Joan D. Vinge
• Hellspark, Janet Kagan
• 17 Where Do We Go From Here?, Edited by Isaac Asimov
• Tunnel in the Sky, Robert A. Heinlein
• The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe
• JOB: A Comedy of Justice, Robert A. Heinlein
• A Feast for Crows, George R.R. Martin (this is another ‘convince me to finish’ as I made it about halfway through and lost interest)
• American Empire: Blood and Iron, Harry Turtledove
• Magician: Apprentice, Raymond E. Feist (I vaguely recall reading this in middle school)
• Years of Rice and Salt, Kim Stanley Robinson (yet again, convince me to finish after I stopped around halfway through)
• Everything’s Eventual, Stephen King
• Lisey’s Story, Stephen King
• The Subtle Knife, Philip Pullman (I’ve read The Golden Compass)
• The Amber Spyglass, Philip Pullman
• The Namesake, Jhumpra Lahiri
• Mona in the Promised Land, Gish Jen
• Lancelot, Walker Percy
• Guardian of the Horizon, Elizabeth Peters
• Butterfly Sunday, David Hill
• The Dark Side of Camelot, Seymour M. Hersh
• What If?, Edited by Robery Cowley

Categories: books
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If you ever want a show to scare the ever-living crap out of you and pique your interest all at the same time (I have to look but I don’t want to look but I have to look but I don’t want to look), Supernatural would be the show. Now, I watched The X-Files from start to finish, all seven (okay, nine, there I said it) seasons. At times, it did scare me. Once or twice, it freaked me out.

Already, Supernatural has gone far beyond that. I’ve watched four full episodes and am currently watching the fifth episode of the first season, and so far, every episode has scared the crap out of me. Some people might not be so susceptible to the kind of fear that the show plays to (Nathan, for instance, while he’s gotten jumpy, hasn’t gotten nearly as freaked as I have). Others, like the ones who were afraid of every monster and legend found in childhood, will find this show to be the grown-up version of All Their Fears Proven True.

So far, the first five episodes have dealt with—

• A stranger in the house that you don’t know is a stranger at first, followed by death by fire caused by possible demons
• Something (a Wendigo) killing people in the deep woods that you can’t see
• A “seriously pissed-off ghost” that you can’t see drowning people in a lake
• A demon that likes to crash airplanes (anyone have a fear of flying?)
• The myth of Bloody Mary

I will never be able to sleep alone again.

And this is all Olivia’s fault. I must give you a non-sarcastic thank you for your great recommendation.

There’s also a bunch of references to The X-Files, which I love. It’s also a highly amusing show, in addition to being a scare-the-crap out of you show. The soundtrack tends to be classic rock and 80’s metal. One episode included a reference to Metallica with Dean called himself “Dr. James Hetfield.” Bwahahaha.

Categories: reviews
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I’d actually intended to include this book with the previous charity bookbin book, but once I realized the nature of the aforementioned book’s subject matter, I figured a split might be in order. While the other one is a romp, this little discovery is… sad. First off, it’s a poetry book (no, that’s not the sad part). It’s called Halfway to Silence and is by May Sarton. Generally, I don’t pick up or get poetry books. Why? I spent most of my poetry-reading-brain-currency in high school and college. I’ve got loads of poetry books stacked within my book stacks and piled within my bookshelves. There’s enough poetry laying around the apartment to have a guest assume that I might avidly read poetry. But I not. Instead, when I read poetry, it’s the equivalent of a random drop of a quarter into one of the toy machines outside a grocery store. Momentarily exciting, entirely impulsive, and the interest fades just as quickly.

But, I’ll be honest. I do like poetry. I can even recite poems by memory.

Anyway. In all my travails through the poetic realm that is majoring in English lit, I never came across May Sarton. Nor did I care. But the title interested me enough for me to pick up the very short volume and page through it. Actually, I didn’t make it through any pages. Only a page.

Because on the title page right after the cover, I found his hand-written note:

It seems I keep giving you Sarton, but she has so much to say! You must re-read this after you read the journals. Her poetry seems a bit different, then. You may have gathered I’ve read this already.

I love you.

Merry Christmas—

Martina

Even then, I still wasn’t sure about putting it in my cart. Then I realized how sad this find was. I mean, this touching little inscription in a book of poetry, and I found it in a charity bookbin at the grocery store!. Now it wasn’t just any book of poetry, it was a tragic tale of love and woe (albeit one almost entirely in my imagination), and into my cart it went.

I know, I know. “S-U-C-K-E-R” is written on my forehead.

Categories: distracted
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