A Bibliophile's Christmas

It’s that time of year again!  The holiday season is upon us – sorry, Hanukkah, I am so bad at blogging on time that I missed you – and gift-giving anxiety has arrived!  While my favorite part of the holidays is picking out and giving gifts, for many people this is a stressful time, depending on whom you are attempting to surprise this holiday.  If you are shopping for the bibliophile in your life, gift-buying can be complicated.  Much like attempting to buy a movie buff the newest DVDs, gifting books to a bibliophile is a difficult task, and a gift certificate to a local bookshop is appreciated, but not very personal. 

Never fear.

I've found some of my absolute favorite book-nerd gifts for this holiday season for any of you still lost on what to buy for the bibliophile you've mistakenly let into your life.  Some I actually own, some I wish I owned, and some I may or may not have already purchased for myself and others and are being shipped to my home at this moment. 

Out of Print Clothing

I may have bought this for myself...

Out of Print is one of my absolute favorite websites for literary paraphernalia; my Gatsby t-shirt is from this site, and not only is it a completely awesome shirt, but the fabric is ridiculously soft and comfortable.  

I own this shirt!

 Beyond just clothing, they also have pouches, phone cases, notebooks and cards, accessories, and other awesome stuff that is just nerdy enough to be a bibliophiles dream. 

But the best part about this company is the mission: "In addition to spreading the joy of reading through our tees and accessories, we acknowledge that many parts of the world don’t have access to books at all. We are working to change that. For each product sold, one book is donated to a community in need through our partner Books For Africa."  Not only can you purchase gifts, but you can rationalize how much money and time you spend on the website because it's going to promote literacy for future generations -- giving the gift of the written word, so to speak.


The Book was Better

Really though, it was

If you love a bibliophile (or are forced into a relationship with said person due to family situations), this sweatshirt says everything for you.  I am so guilty of this -- and I am VERY aware that many of you are thinking the same thing -- but a decent number of my friends are, too.  I firmly believe that the book is always better than the movie.  I can enjoy the movies (Harry Potter, duh) but the books will always hold a special place in my heart.  So before the movie even begins, I will already be prepared to utter this statement at the conclusion.  Or right after it starts.  Or 124,503,594 times during the movie when something just isn't perfect.  

So if you love someone who does the same, this might be the perfect gift for Christmas.  Or for her literary intervention.  Or before you go to see Catching Fire.  You could even wrap the DVD of The Great Gatsby you got for him in the sweatshirt!  Oh, irony.


For the bibliophile in your life who has a sick obsession with Harry Potter or The Hunger Games -- if the sick obsession is with Twilight, please find a new friend -- it can be simple to find gifts.  Here are some of my personal favorites.

This mug is literally the greatest gift ever.  HINT.  Honestly though, every voracious reader I know is also a huge fan of coffee or tea.  I can go through an entire pot of coffee when I'm spending a rainy day reading.  If you aren't a Harry Potter fan, 'accio' is a summoning spell and the bottom of the cup is a reference to the third book, when Harry is forced to read tea leaves in his Divination class.  Which is my favorite book in the entire series.  Which is clearly because Sirius Black is my boyfriend.  It also might have something to do with how the third book starts to really show the details that weave the entire series together.  Also, Sirius Black.  (Seriously.  Haha, see what I did there?) 

Anyway, this mug is fantastic.  End of rant.  Find it here.

This is actually now on my Christmas list.  Mom!  Pay attention!  This is yet another more subtle HP reference from the second book, when Hermione has run off to the library to look something up:

“But why’s she got to go to the library?”

“Because that’s what Hermione does,” said Ron, shrugging. “When in doubt, go to the library.” 

Hermione is the smartest one in the trio.  That bitch saves the day more often than Harry Potter.  Whatever.  This bracelet is awesome.  Need I say more?  Perfection for the HP nerd in your life.  Find it here.

  The  Hunger Games.  Not the movies, the series.  Because the book was better (see above).  Anyway, this is a more romantic gesture, so as a gift for a sibling or a platonic friend, it might not be your best move.  Without too many spoilers because this is a reference to the third book in the trilogy, anyone who is well versed in the novels will appreciate the sentiment.  It's simple, and it's f*cking adorable.  This and the HP bracelet above can be personalized with different fonts as well.  SO MUCH FUN! Find it here.






Most Random and Unnecessary Items Best Gifts Ever

I have an intense love affair with reading in the bathtub.  So do many other people I know and love, and there are SO MANY BATHTUB READING ACCESSORIES ONLINE!  I search on Amazon, and seriously.  Tons of options, tons of different styles, lots of different price ranges.  

My favorite part, however, is that most of them include some place to put your wine glass.  Because, real talk?  Nothing is better than reading AND drinking in the bathtub. 

Check out some of the options on Amazon

 There are many options on sites like CafePress and Etsy for personalized or clever and original ideas.  I'm a big fan of the bookshelf shower curtains.  This is one of my favorites!  And seriously, every room can use a bookshelf.  This one just happens to be waterproof, too!

Here's where you can buy this shower curtain



As a kid, I was given sheets and sheets of "From the library of" stickers to put in my own personal library.  They were KICKASS, because they had a sleeping golden retriever puppy with glasses, but they also had my address (which is not my address anymore) and as I got older, I switched to simply putting my name in my books.

A personalized stamp is a fantastic gift for anyone who is constantly lending books and forgetting (not me, no sir, seriously though, if you have any of my books let me know), and it's a classier alternative to the stickers or handwritten names scribbled in corners.  Get your stamps here

Find the iPhone charger here

Find the case here

Great gifts?  Or greatest gifts?  I'm a big fan of merging electronics and literature because books are much more attractive to me than computers or cell phones.  Cell phone cases that look like books are a personal favorite, but these two nifty contraptions make me smile, too.  

Welcome to the wonderful world of board games for bibliophiles.  While there are plenty of options out there, including themed version of Monopoly and Clue (Mystery at Hogwarts was a favorite of mine in college), I'm suggesting that you consider purchasing Trivial Pursuit: Book Lover's Edition.  Not only is this the cutest game EVER (just look at the player tokens!!!), it is also the most difficult game I've ever played in my entire life.  Hands down.  

We played once in college on teams with English professors and it was still the most difficult game ever.  Try it for yourself!

Happy Holidays, everyone!  And may the gift giving odds be ever in your favor!

Thoughts for Thursday: Rumi and A Wrinkle in Time

 

Welcome to another edition of Thoughts for Thursday!  While I might not be the best at updating my blog, I’m trying to establish a routine of posting, and if I can start with every Thursday, perhaps I’ll get somewhere!

                I spend a decent amount of time browsing Pinterest when I can’t sleep at night (I even have a Leah Reads board!  Just be aware that I pin a lot of Harry Potter related things… NO SHAME), and I’ve had my Thoughts for Thursday board for quite some time where I would put quotes I considered using in my lesson plans.  Rumi is an author whose quotes appear fairly often when I’m browsing the quotes section, and there is a simplistic and timeless element to his words.  As a 13^th century Persian poet, Rumi could begin to feel outdated, but as it is shown time and time again, good literature and true emotion transcends eras and cultural boundaries.

                Our quote for today has been tumbling around in my mind for quite some time now; originally I thought I would only do quotes about literature when I posted my Thoughts for Thursday; then I figured quotes from authors would be fair game as well; now, although the second edition of this topic is an author, I’ve decided that if the quote can relate to books overall, I’m going to allow it.  So, uhhhhh, that pretty much eliminates nothing because I can relate almost anything to literature.  NO RULES.

                The thing I love most about this quote is that it comes in two parts and each part is equally significant.  Stop acting so small is simply good advice, and it is advice I’ve been neglecting – actually, it’s advice I’d suspect about half the population has been neglecting.  It always seems like people are either bragging about themselves or putting themselves down.  We get the egomaniacs who constantly try to make every situation about themselves, even when it’s not necessarily something to be proud of (ever notice how people constantly try to one up each other when it comes to how busy or tired they are?  Can’t we all just be busy and tired?); then we have those who are always lamenting that they aren’t enough of anything – not smart enough, or pretty enough, or brave enough, or whatever enough.  Or they keep their mouths shut completely, because even acknowledging that they exist seems like too much.  Those are the ones acting so small.

                There is little wrong with taking pride in oneself.  And size – literally or figuratively – should have no bearing on the ability of a person to make changes or do good things.  Doesn’t the saying go ‘big things come in small packages’?  Think of all the literature that deals with children making the changes, with those who are not in a position of power rejecting the idea of being small. We have characters that climb up through established social classes and established society; characters who overthrow the dark wizard who has powers much stronger; characters who steal from the rich to give to the poor.  Stop acting small, these characters tell us.  Stop acting less than what you are capable of achieving.

                This is solid advice, but it’s hard to take when we are constantly berated with media and advertisements and, hell, other people who are trying to keep us down.  We are told we aren’t good enough, and after a while, we come to believe it.  Or we tell ourselves that while maybe we aren’t so great, we are at least better than that guy over there.  It’s a cyclical process of decline.  Those lucky enough to pull themselves out have changed the world.  And that’s where part two of the quote comes into play.

                You are the universe in ecstatic motion.  What a grand idea; not only are you not small, but you are an important part of the universe.  And not only that, but you are what creates joy in the universe.  Just by existing.  Wrap your head around that for a minute.

 

Good? Okay.

 

                I won’t pretend like I always understand or accept this idea.  I don’t always think highly of myself or others, but Rumi is telling me that I need to accept it.  Not just for myself, but in how I view and judge others.  And when I started to consider where I wanted to go with this post (which, I admit, rambles quite a bit) I immediately thought of A Wrinkle in Time.  If you’ve never read A Wrinkle in Time… GTFO. No, not really, but go grab a copy. It’s a beautifully written book with amazing literary merit and magnificent messages and themes.  There are also three other books in the series, which often people don’t realize.  All are wonderful.  But I digress.

                In Wrinkle the main female character is a young high-schooler named Meg Murry who struggles at school, is awkward and gawky (and brilliant, albeit misunderstood at math), and doesn’t fit in.  Her younger brother, Charles Wallace, is essentially a five year old prodigy, but people in their town see him as a freak.  Their father has gone missing while on secret government business – he’s a scientist, not a spy – and one afternoon, Meg, Charles Wallace, and their friend Calvin have to travel through time and space to rescue him and save the planet from the Dark Thing.  That sounds ridiculous, but it’s just that my summary is pretty shitty.  The thing is, Meg, Charles, and Calvin are all young.  They are all seen as slightly strange.  Meg hates herself.  But the three of them have to believing in themselves and overcome fear, and threat of death to save not just Mr. Murry but the entire universe.  From the smallest part of the human body, everything plays a part.  Indeed, there is even a section of the book where the children try to listen to the music of the stars in celebration.  The universe is singing.

                It’s a hard lesson to learn, and I am guilty of thinking poorly of myself more often than I’d like to admit.  I try to encourage the people around me, but I am not always able to pull myself out of my own head.  But the truth is, each of us has an important role to play.  No matter how small, everyone and everything is part of the music and joy and fluidity of the universe.  Love might make the world go round, but believing in yourself makes the universe move.

Thoughts for Thursday - C. S. Lewis

“Since it is so likely that children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage.” – C. S. Lewis

 

Happy Thursday!  Because I’m not currently in a classroom on the reg, and I’m sure my teacher friends are getting annoyed with me butting into their lesson planning, I’m bringing my standard Thursday warm-up to the blog.  Thoughts for Thursday is exactly that: we start class with a quote and my students are expected to answer three questions

1.       What does this quote mean? Restate it in your own words.

2.       What does this quote suggest about the speaker?  What does he/she appear to value or believe from this quote.

3.       How can we connect this quote to other quotes, works of literature, things from class, or your own lives?

Say what you will about high schoolers, but after the first few times of going through a warm-up like this, they get very good at it.  I always try to find quotes that tie into our current unit, or quotes that deal with wherever we’re headed with class that day, or quotes from our current author, but I am also guilty of using this time as a mini-platform to share life advice with my students.  They might roll their eyes at my attempt at uplifting messages, but when it comes through a third party in a cleverly worded phrase, sometimes it reaches them.

                The quote I picked for the blog today is from the always fascinating C. S. Lewis, possibly best known for The Chronicles of Narnia and The Screwtape Letters, as well as his Christian writings.  (Random aside: Lewis died on November 22, 1963.  No one cared much because JFK was assassinated that same day… but this year is the 50^th anniversary of his death and he is being honored in Poets’ Corner. Redemption?).  I think it fits well with the theme of this blog, but it also is so very relevant to contemporary life.

                Obviously we could look to films and television as a medium for heroes and knights, but my mind takes me immediately to literature.  I often go off on tangents about how children – and adults – simply don’t read enough.  I won’t go into that here, because there are real studies done on how reading improves EVERYTHING in an educational spectrum.  What I will go into, though, is how reading improves life.

 

                Yeah, I said it.  Being a reader means your life is better.  I’m not trying to be hyperbolic, either.  I firmly believe this.  And here’s why.

 

                I’ve been reading my entire life.  I don’t remember learning to read, and I never remember a time when I wasn’t reading.  I was lucky this way.  Not all kids are that lucky, but even if they don’t grow up to be voracious readers like some obnoxious people, they need to have some exposure to bravery and goodness before the real world gives them a swift kick to the ass.  The world can be a cruel and scary place, and as more of my friends start having children (and I start making more friends who already have children), I hope more and more that they are prepared.

                One of my best friends has sons, and he told me once that his only goal in life, really, was to ensure that they grew up to be real men who were ready to face the world (I know, right??? Father of the year!!). Many of us want to protect the children in our lives, but we have to recognize that we can’t do this forever.  At some point they have to be pushed out into the real world, and like my friend said, we have to make sure they are prepared for the cruelty of life.  This is a huge responsibility, and literature can help through this process.

                There are some arguments that fairy tales and other stories in this genre aren’t good for young children, primarily girls, because they perpetuate gender roles and expectations; while this holds merit – after all, there are studies on what male and female children will read, and while girls will relate to and read stories with a male or a female protagonist, boys will often avoid female protagonists – there is something to be said for early exposure to the battle between good and evil.  Yes, Little Red Riding Hood has to be ‘rescued’ by the strapping woodsman because her genteel nature gets her into some trouble, and it’s often an evil stepmother plotting the death of children, however there are other stories where the good and evil conflict is not rooted in gender issues.  The Chronicles of Narnia includes good and evil characters of both genders, and includes strong female characters.  So does Lord of the Rings, and more contemporary works like Harry Potter and The Hunger Games which span the gender divide in readers.  But I digress…

                Literature provides a safe space for grappling with the issues of good and evil; we are not in any true bodily harm when knights go to battle against dragons and evil sorcerors; we are protected when Lord Voldemort threatens to Avada Kedavra everyone and everything in his path(for you non-Harry Potter people, that’s a spell that kills).  We recognize that evil exists in these literary worlds, and although sometimes it seems like there is no way out, unless we are dealing with a dystopian novel or something more experimental, good almost always triumphs in the end.   For children who are learning to maneuver their way through life, seeing good triumph can be a positive influence.  Knowing that there are good people in the world, projecting themselves into the heroic role allows them to shape a framework for future interactions with evil people and difficult circumstances.

                Literature can also provide an escape from reality.  As a teenager, I struggled with many of the common middle school issues.  Life seemed futile, and other teenagers can be incredibly cruel.  I always was a reader, but during this period of my life it became my salvation.  I saw characters that might not be considered heroes or knights, but their survival gave me hope for my own. 

                In the end, the wolf never wins.  There may be destruction and death and fears and turmoil along the way; the hero may face obstacles and fight terrifying battles, but when good overcomes evil in literature, we give children – and yes, even adults – courage and optimism that we need to travel through the reality of life.

Literature Friends are the very best friends...

So I’m currently sitting in a Starbucks in Maryland waiting for an old friend to arrive; I decided to try and get here early so I could chat with someone on Skype and attempt to write a blog post before going to Sean’s tonight.  It’s mostly out of fear, since Sean is pretty much the only person who encourages me to blog – he also reads all my posts and if I get this done before I see him, he’ll know it exists without me even telling him.  I had no idea what I was going to write about, but since I just came from Sunday Funday (and hangover Monday) with Richard, I want to write about my friends.

Let me be more specific: I want to write about my literature friends.  We all have friends that fall into different categories and we all have friends that serve different purposes in our lives.  Some are people we like to go out and drink with, some are shopping friends, or music friends, or work friends, but I have a select group of friends that are my literature friends.  We talk about books, we exchange suggestions, we argue about the value of one author over another, and we nerd out together.  The majority of my friends do enjoy reading (I’m obnoxious like that), which makes me very lucky, but there are a few that truly are my literature friends.  I trust their recommendations more than anyone else, and they rarely steer me wrong.

The 52 books that comprised the original reading list for the blog (I swear I will eventually get to all of them!) were a compilation of suggestions from friends and family members.  Those that weren’t direct suggestions from people were still often through word of mouth; I remembered someone (maybe I couldn’t remember who, but I knew it was someone!) who had read the book and really enjoyed it.  I love when my friends get me books as presents; it has to be a careful selection, but when someone gives me a book I end up loving I feel like they know the truth of me. 

There is also something magnificent about sharing a favorite book with a friend.  That’s an instant connection that cannot be replicated.  My dad and I both LOVE The Stand (the unabridged edition, obviously) and it’s something we share.  We talk about it, we discuss movie options and make jokes about characters.  Diana and I shared a physical copy of A Movable Feast (sorry for stealing it for so long, novia!), Richard and I shared every English class at McDaniel (for three years, I think!). I shared David Sedaris with a friend from work – really though, I read his stories OUTLOUD to him one day after school.  That’s how great my friends are.

But in honor of Sean, one of my best literature friends (and all around friend), I want to share my favorite book-nerd-friendship story.  My senior year of college I was ridiculously overwhelmed by senior seminar, student teaching, and the impending fear of adulthood.  Sean called me to calm me down – standard best friend behavior – but then he went one better.  He read to me.  Over the phone.  He read a chapter from what has now become one of my favorite books to me over the phone from another state.  He told me to calm the f*ck down and shut the f*ck up and he read to me.

Nothing better.

 

 

The book, in case you were wondering, is Bird By Bird, which I use when I teach.  My 7^th graders gave me a copy when I was finished student teaching.  They had all signed it.  It’s currently at my friend Joe’s house because I’m passing on the same thing Sean gave me.  Also I have two of his books that I need to read and return.  I love my literature friends, but I am SO BAD at keeping track of the books we all pass around.

This is a post about Gatsby, old sport.

If you know anything about me, you KNEW this post was coming.  If you don't know anything about me, I'm sure if someone had asked you 'what is Leah excited about, movie-wise?' you would eventually have guessed at the answer.

Gatsby.  The GREAT Gatsby.  The greatest Gatsby (according to Stephen Colbert).  That old sport Gatsby.  Okay, I'm done now.  As a heads up, this post contains a crazy amount of spoilers, because I am about to go HAM on The Great Gatsby.

If you've never read the book, you need to go get a copy.  Right now.  Obviously, I'm a supporter of the book-is-better-than-movie movement, but I will always admit when the movie is just as good.  I'm a big fan of both the novel and the film version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, for example.  Different perspectives, a different take on the story, but each is equally magnificent in its own right.  That's partially why I love the Harry Potter movies (and even the film version of To Kill A Mockingbird); they are not better than the novel, they are not even as good as the novel, but as a stand alone film (or series), there is something magnificent about those films.  If I separate myself from the novels, I can appreciate them in isolation.  I love them, but I'll always choose the book.  And I am the person who leans over in the middle of a scene and whispers that's not what happened in the book!  Ugh, I'm so obnoxious!

But back to Gatsby (Gatsby?  What Gatsby?) and the beauty that is Fitzgerald's novel.  I had the insane luck to actually teach the book twice this year to my 20th Century Lit seniors, and I have to be honest, the second time around was a much better experience.  That's true of all teaching -- the first time through might not be a total disaster, but it's not going to be pretty.  I don't think I did the book justice first semester, but this time through, I was ready to roll.  The impending release date of the film was a good selling point, but I focused on the story this time around.

That sounds weird.  What I mean is that we just read the book.  Obviously we looked at symbolism and the use of colors (our study of Daisy's name as a metaphor was the reason they laughed so much at the Colbert clip I linked above), but when you have 27 students who simply don't read (EVER), your priorities shift.  I wanted them to love the book, not feel overwhelmed by it.  I read a lot of the book out loud to them, for some of the same reasons I read the majority of part one in Mockingbird to my 10th graders.  My personal inflections and intonations, and even just my awkward pauses, made the book come alive.  Not my skills as a reader, mind you -- although I do LOVE reading to people.

As an avid reader and a student of English literature, I often forget that they way I read is not normal.  Many of my students struggle just to understand the words on the page, which doesn't allow much freedom to read between the lines, understand the humor, or just enjoy a story.  It has nothing to do with technology or generational gaps, but instead is just a sign of how little people read.  When reading is not part of a daily routine, it does become more difficult and boring.  And I didn't want that for my students.

So I read to them.  And you know what?  I found a deeper understand of the novel through my reading.  The reunion between Daisy and Gatsby is so tense and awkward and hilarious, and I recognized it in a way that wasn't always so clear on my own readings.  It was simple for me to pause in the middle of a chapter and Tarantino it (as one of my students dubbed the technique), going back through the plot points, rereading sections until they understood what was happening.  Some of them followed along, some just sat and listened (two of them fell asleep most of the time), but they became enthralled by the strange and twisted lives of the characters.  By the time we hit the second party at Gatsby's, I was able to tell them to read the rest on their own.  Some of them had already finished it, and were completely devastated by the ending.

So what does all of this have to do with the film?  Well, The Great Gatsby is a visually stunning novel -- wait, wait, hear me out -- even though it's not a visual.  The use of color in the book is overwhelming at times, always symbolic, always important, always memorable.  The green light, the yellow car, the scarlet walls, the white dresses, Gatsby's gold tie.  The descriptions are simple but done with a finesse that is distinctly Fitzgerald.  He is able to waltz his characters from scene to scene, location to location, party to party, without missing a beat.  This, in theory, should transfer easily to the big screen but it doesn't.  The novel is not meant to be a film.  It's like the 5th Harry Potter, The Order of the Phoenix; it's so much inside Harry's own thoughts, and that makes for a pretty shitty movie.  No one wants to listen to 3 hours of straight narration!  The novel is told through flashbacks and introspection from Nick, and he's annoying enough as it is.

But I was still excited.  It's Leo.  And Baz.  And I was going in with low expectations because no movie has ever been able to capture the novel.  Did it do justice to what is arguably one of the most iconic American novels?  Ehhh, not quite, but it was close.  And here's why.  If Gatsby were to make a movie about himself to show Daisy, it would be this version.  Minus the weird screaming angry scary Gatsby parts (WTF was that????).  It's corny and romanticized and over the top and loud and glitzy and cost wayyyy too much money to make and... wait a minute, didn't I just describe ALL OF GATSBY'S LIFE AFTER DAISY MARRIED TOM AND HE TRIED TO WIN HER BACK BY MAKING MONEY AND THROWING LAVISH PARTIES AND BASICALLY JUST BY BEING A CREEPY AWKWARD WEIRDO????  I mean, I'm just saying, but really...

I think people want to hate the movie because it's the type of movie 'literary types' aren't supposed to like.  We are expected to scoff at the plebs who haven't read the novel and don't understand the magnitude of this film, those who just like the Jay-Z soundtrack because they can't appreciate jazz, we are expected to ridicule those who aren't as educated or cultured as we, the civilized types... wait a minute, didn't I just describe TOM BUCHANAN'S DOUCHBAGGARY AND THE EAST EGG WEST EGG DIVIDE????  I mean, I'm just saying, but really...

I liked the over the top moments, and the fireworks that exploded when he told Nick "I'm Gatsby" because it just felt so appropriate to what the novel is really about.  Decadence, materialism, reality verses fantasy... the movie is unbelievable because Gatsby himself is unbelievable.  Was it perfect?  HELL NO.  Was it pretty effing good?  Absolutely. I'll give it a solid B.  It lost points because of the funeral scene, and the fact that Klipspringer never called to get his tennis shoes back.  It's the little things, I suppose.

I waited 5 years for this movie to be released and.. wait a minute, didn't Gatsby wait for Daisy for five years?     Dammit, Baz, you sneaky devil.

To Kill A Mockingbird is the greatest book in the entire world, maybe.

AH-HA!  It has not yet been a year since I last posted (although it is, in fact, dangerously and pathetically close to being a year).  I wasn't sure when my last post was from, but it was August of 2012 and 'I can explain.'  I feel like a teenager caught in the act -- I can explain!

Basically I got a job.  A fake job.  A sort-of job that may or may not be a job next year.  I'm a long term substitute for the entire year, and here's hoping for something real (aka contract based) for next year.  Between that and school my life is crazy.  Really that's all bullshit excuses and I totally let this blog slide.  And I suck. But I'm back, bitches!

In honor of my first post back after my unannounced and completely unnoticed hiatus -- all my followers are currently confused because they didn't even realize I hadn't posted in months upon months -- I want to talk about To Kill A Mockingbird, or, as I like to call it, TKMB.  My students have pointed out on numerous occasions that TKMB doesn't actually work and it should be TKM or TKAM, but screw 'em.  TKMB is easier to type.

My tenth graders finished reading TKMB this past week, and almost all of them ended up loving the novel.  I mean, they could be lying in their final journal entries for the book, but they are a pretty opinionated group of students and normally have no issue with 'real talk.'  Many of them felt like the beginning (or all of Part One) was boring and stupid, but once the trial started they were hooked.  And they should have been hooked -- that book is an emotional whirlwind once you hit Tom Robinson's trial, and me crying in front of them when I read the last three chapters out-loud has most likely scarred them for life, but who cares?  I love that book, goddamn it, and I'm so thrilled that they loved it, too.

TKMB is a pretty common read for high school students, and it's arguably one of the better books that is assigned in the high school curriculum.  I've rarely had students hate the entire book, and it's inspired some pretty intense discussions at the various grade levels I've taught.  I've only had a handful of parent complaints regarding language (the n-word is pretty prevalent throughout), but those parents had never read the book, so STFU about it.  I didn't actually tell parents to shut the f*ck up, but I did suggest they read the novel along with the student and see if the language was still an issue.  Unsurprisingly, I never got a second complaint, but I think that might be because reading is hard.  Or something.  Go with it.

I'm being rather hyperbolic when I say TKMB is the greatest book in the entire world, maybe.  I'm pretty uncomfortable with superlatives (you could say I'm more uncomfortable than most... GETIT???), and I can't narrow down my own list of favorite anythings to a 1. 2. 3. ranking, but I will say that TKMB is a unique book in its own greatness.  It's not my favorite book, but it really is a great one.

When I read TKMB in 8th grade, I was hooked.  I loved Scout and I loved Dill and I loved Boo Radley and Atticus.  It was a book unlike anything else I'd read in school up to that point, and I read voraciously, comparing my literary ability to Scout's the entire time.   I was fully invested in class discussions (I think... maybe I wasn't, but I'm very talkative, so I assume I was), but I completely forgot about the book for several years.  Well, I didn't forget about it, but I didn't spend much time contemplating the story.  However, when I was starting my internships for teaching I was thrown into an 8th grade class that was halfway through the novel and I reread the book to refresh my memory.

Holy Hell.

What TKMB offers that many other books do not (some other books do, but don't fight me on this) is a new story every single time.  EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.  I felt simultaneously like I was revisiting an old friend and meeting a completely new one; the story was the same, but the story was completely new.

TKMB is a book that never ever ever ever gets old, and it honestly gets better each time I read it.  I saw new patterns in the story telling; I learned new information about characters; I saw subtle foreshadowing and more complex flashback; I fell more in love with Atticus and saw his flaws more clearly; I had found a new way to enjoy an old book.  I read it again the next year, again during a student teaching internship and had the same reaction.  Old and new book, all wrapped in one.  Each time I read the book, the intricacies with which Harper (we're on a first name basis here) crafted the novel impress me more and more.  I still cry at the same moments, but I cry for totally different reasons each time.

But even better, my students feel the same way.  I was lucky enough to have a handful of tenth graders who had moved from a district that reads the book earlier, and although that normally causes a problem with discussion and analysis, I asked them to pay close attention to what changed for them from the first reading.  Their perspective was incredible -- some stayed after class to talk to me about how much better the book was the second time through, how the beginning of the novel didn't seem boring anymore, how they never noticed certain character traits or details, and how they understood why I never got tired of reading the book.  Some of them even noticed things I'd never considered before, brilliant insights that didn't occur to the English major, graduate student, teacher, but struck a 15 year old with such immediate clarity.

What other novel can offer such a powerful connection and reaction at all age levels?  When I read to my classes on Wednesday, I warned them in advance I might get emotional -- and my four classes of 15 and 16 year old hooligans didn't bat an eye.  They understood exactly why, and when my voice cracked while reading "Thank you for my children, Arthur," I saw a few of them wiping their eyes along with me.  The anger, frustration, disillusionment, amusement, elation, and joy they felt over those 31 chapters is something that doesn't happen in most of the assigned reading for high school students.

TKMB is one of my favorite books to teach, even if it's not my favorite book.  Students often love the novel, which is rare (trust me, English is generally the least favorite subject of them all).  If you haven't read the book since high school, pick it up when you have a free weekend.  Honestly.  It may not be the greatest book in the entire world, but maybe it is.

I just found this after posting!  Edited to add a KICK ASS PICTURE!!!

Leah Reads and Reads and Tweets.

I despise the word 'tweet.' I told Anthony last night that I had seen a 'tweet on Twitter, and then I retweeted it,' and it made me throw-up a little in my mouth. See, I'm not a huge fan of Twitter. I tried it a few years ago when I got my first smart phone, and although it was fun for a while, it got overwhelming -- I also had a few friends that overused Twitter. I don't need minute by minute updates on Big Brother. FERNANDO. I stopped using it completely after 5 or 6 months.
Earlier this summer, I took an online graduate class through my undergrad (it was painful, but I won't go into it here so I don't piss anyone too important off) about technology and education. You might have seen the Reading Survey from my last post -- feel free to continue to answer the questions! -- which was an assignment for my class. I took away some valuable knowledge of online tools and social networking, but much of it was overwhelming and confusing, even though I don't think of myself as too out of touch.
In class, I had to start a Twitter account; rather than reopen my previous account, I started a new one which I figured I'd link to this blog once class was over. I used it just enough to meet the class requirements, but since the class has been over, I've been trying to update every so often. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to have a Twitter linked to my blog, especially when many of my Tweets have to do with me watching Trash-TV, but I'm attempting to follow those in publishing and literary fields, as well as post relevant news articles and information. The thing that makes me crazy, though, is the 140 character limit.
As someone who values writing, I looked into teaching tools revolving around Twitter. One, from Kelley Gallagher's book Write Like This, has students writing 140 character memoirs, similar to the 6 word memoir contest inspired by Hemingway's 6 word short-story:

Mr. Hemingway

For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn. 

Brilliant, right? I love Hemingway. I know, I mention that anytime I have the chance -- I spent about an hour last night telling one of Anthony's friends about how much I love Hemingway -- but I really do. I appreciate his brevity. Faulkner (love him, too) once commented that Hemingway "has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary." Hemingway, true to form, shot back "Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?"
It's true, though. In a digital text world where everyone has the opportunity to self-publish, what kind of writing becomes significant? What kind of writing becomes the standard, the most accessible, the most convenient? As a teacher -- and as a writing tutor in college -- there's little more frustrating that a student who has clearly shift-F7ed a word (for you Mac users, that opens the thesaurus) and has no idea what the new word actually means, because, hey! It's a big word, it must be good!
Although Twitter makes standard grammar and usage rules less desirable due to the shortened character limit, does it provide a useful writing tool for students? In forcing the author to be concise and to the point, is the 'main idea' a more relevant teaching and writing tool? I think Twitter can help us pay attention to the important details. Hemingway's story is 6 word, but it has a beginning, a middle, and an ending. Readers have the basic plot. Does it matter what color shoes? No, because that's not the point to the story.

From Ordeal by Cheque

As a personal experience, rereading Tweets can be an interesting take on a life story. I'd be interested to read, as a form of memoir, Twitter posts over the course of one year. I've used a great non-traditional short story, Ordeal by Cheque, at the start of certain English classes. It's a story told by checks written over the course of several years. Readers must make inferences to get the full story by paying attention to important details; what's being purchased, the amounts, the date, the handwriting, the name, and other important information. Much like social networking, where people often post passive-aggressive messages, can't we 'read' that information, also?
As I forge into the Twitter world, I want to think about the idea of social media memoir -- how our posts, tweets, status updates, and other various forms of updating and communicating that takes place over a full day -- reflects our life story. So follow me on Twitter! I'm still not sure what I'm doing, or how I can really make it a Leah Read's Twitter, but I love seeing how other people are using the website to write their lives.

Follow me: @LeahIsReading

Reading Survey

For my grad class this summer, we have to create and share a form on Google Docs. In order to make this a really relevant and interesting assignment, I've decided to base it on reading. We're discussing the technology behind a form (and how it can be used for educational practices) but, if you have 5 minutes to spare, I'd love for my readers -- who are sometimes readers! -- to complete the questions. Thanks!

Closet Drama

This post is not about gay theater (although when my professor wrote 'closet drama' on the board last week, that was my first thought).  Instead, it's about theater and drama as a school of literature.  Man, do I sound smart!

I just finished -- well, I have to send my take-home final back by three-o-clock on Tuesday, but don't rain on my parade -- my most painful class ever.  EVER.  Not just of graduate school, but of all classes, ever, in my life.  I won't get into details; I might need some references some day in the future, but it was a painful class.  Imagine getting talked AT for three hours, twice a week, and about half of that time is spent telling stories that don't relate to class (and, I'm convinced, are all made up!).  There was very little discussion, we lost points on reading quizzes -- yes, I took reading quizzes in my grad class -- if we disagreed with his opinion, and he gave me a B+/A- on my short paper.  You need to pick!  That's a pretty wide span of points... VENT VENT VENT.   Okay, I'm better now.

Regardless, last night was the final class of the semester, and although we all ran out the door, I did take a few interesting tidbits with me.  Closet Drama has nothing to do with homosexuality; instead, it refers to a genre of drama that is meant to be read, or done in a small group reading.  They weren't intended for the stage, although some have now become stage performances.  Faust, for instance, by Goethe, was written as a closet drama.

I was never thrilled about reading plays.  I think my first real experience with it was The Miracle Worker in 7th grade, and I recall doing a lot of acting and watching film clips.  Then we moved on to Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream in 8th grade and Romeo and Juliet in 9th, but again, we mostly just acted things out or watched the movie.  In tenth grade we listened to The Merchant of Venice, but I won't go into that because I've already ranted and raved enough.  My first real interaction with drama was with Hamlet and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in my AP class senior year.  That was the first time we read drama as a work of literature instead of script.

My point is that reading drama isn't structured well in most instances.  When I teach A Raisin in the Sun, I have students analyze stage directions, and I'm always amazed when they don't know what those are.  Reading 8 plays over the past 5 weeks has been enlightening; there needs to be a better way to teach drama.  It also opened my eyes to the idea that not all drama should be performed.

In context, I was given free tickets to two shows last week; I saw the new Neil Labute play Reasons to be Pretty on Sunday, and Angels in American, Part 1 on Wednesday night.  I was introduced to Labute during my summer course; we read two of his plays from Bash, which were beautifully written, interesting and deep pieces, based on ancient Greek plays.  I was thrilled about free tickets to the show.

I think, deep down, Labute is a closet dramatist.  It wasn' that the play was bad, but I found myself wanting to read it instead of watching it played out in front of me.  The actors were good, the staging was good, the music felt slightly after-school special, but I really couldn't get into it.  I found myself wondering if I would have enjoyed it more had I read the play first.  Much like turning a book into a movie, taking a script and turning it into an actual performance can be a let down.  There are so many interpretations out there -- I did my final project on Antigone, and there have been countless productions of that play done in a variety of ways, based on the vision of the director.  Are we teaching kids to be lazy by simply showing the film?

I found myself wanting a copy of the script, to follow along, or to go back over on my way home.  I wanted to see if the production was just missing something, or if I honestly just didn't really love the play.  There was so much potential there, I just wanted to analyze it, word for word, get something out of it that I couldn't get from watching 4 people yell at each other on the stage.

Angels in America, on the other hand?  AMAZING. I'm dying to read it, but for a completely different reason.  I'm attempting to broaden my horizons when it comes to literature.  My 52 books list included non-fiction for that very reason; I don't read enough of certain genres, drama included.  SO for my summer reading list, which will branch off of my 52 books list, I want drama suggestions.  Any plays you think are worth checking out, let me know.  I'm trying here!

The Alchemist and Personal Legends

I feel the need to go back to an earlier post and discuss a bit further how I feel about one of the books I recently read.  Today is just one-of-those-days, and you all know what I'm talking about, where I just feel very blah.  I have moments where my life feels very unsatisfying, where I feel overly depressed, but can't pinpoint any actual reason, where I have no motivation to do anything.   And I LOVE to complain about days like today in my blog!  It's my blog, so na-na-na-boo-boo to you.

In trying to keep myself upbeat, I want to talk a bit about The Alchemist, a really lovely book that has been compared to The Little Prince, another simple, lovely, allegorical novel.  The Alchemist is one of those used-book-sale-at-the-library purchases -- reminder to self, renew your library books so you don't have another obscene fine -- and I'm so glad that it was a recommendation for my project.

I'm not a huge fan of self-help books, so I prefer to get my life lessons through fiction.  The Alchemist is really about what each of our purposes is throughout life: our Personal Legends, as it is called in the novel.  Our Personal Legends is determined by fate, but it is up to each of us to follow the path, or to ignore the messages from out heart.  The main character gives up everything he has always known to follow a path set forth in a dream.  Along the way he meets people who help him on his quest, but it is always through struggle, and it never comes easily.

One of my favorite messages (or storylines, depending on how literal you want to take this) from the novel is about the heart; the boy (our main character) attempts to communicate with his heart, and begins to understand how things work:

"Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him," his heart said.  "We, people's hearts, seldom say much about those treasures, because people no longer want to go in search of them.  We speak of them only to children.  Later, we simply let life proceed, in its own direction, toward its own fate.  But, unfortunately, very few follow the path laid out for them -- the path to their Personal Legends, and to happiness.  Most people see the world as a threatening place, and, because they do, the world turns out, indeed, to be a threatening place.
"So, we, their hearts, speak more and more softly.  We never stop speaking out, but we begin to hope that our words won't be heard: we don't want people to suffer because they don't follow their hearts."
"Why don't people's hearts tell them to continue to follow their dreams?" the boy asked the alchemist.
"Because that's what makes a heart suffer most, and hearts don't like to suffer."
From then on, the boy understood his heart.  He asked that it, please, never to stop speaking to him.  He asked that, when he wandered far from his dreams, his heart press him and sound the alarm.  The boy swore that, every time he heard the alarm, he would heed its message. (Coelho, 131-2)

As we grow up, according to the heart, we don't want to be reminded of our Personal Legends, because it's too upsetting to realize we've not achieved what we secretly (or, perhaps, not so secretly) desire.  Occasionally we don't even know what would make us happy because we aren't willing to experiment.  Other times, we are willing to make jokes about the things we want in a facade of our own emotions.  And, more often than not, we simply just push those dreams to the side in the face of 'real life.'

Once upon a time, I had a dream to be a writer.  And, although I occasionally update my blog and I do keep a writer's journal, I realized very early on that was not a logical dream.  I don't have the talent, the resources, or the lifestyle for that type of adventure.  Or do I?  Am I just giving myself excuses, so that I won't feel regret about never trying?

My first grad class was about writing memoir, and the feedback I received from the other students (and my professor) was part of what encouraged me to at least start this blog.  Unfortunately, in most areas of my life, I tend to ignore my heart, and play it safe.  And, to a certain extent, I don't know if I ever have a true comprehension of what my Personal Legend might be.

I'm trying to take the negativity and turn it instead to my search.  My new goal: relax, and say yes.  I need to be calm and take everything that comes to me as a possible part of my personal legend and my path. And perhaps this blog isn't a bad start.

What is your personal legend?  And how will you achieve it?

My life is a joke

For my second summer graduate course, I'm taking an online class about technology in the classroom.  Assignment one?  Create a blog!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA this is why my life is a joke.

I am being forced to keep a blog -- although it seems like we are only required to blog twice, which seems a little odd -- and I find that f*cking hilarious.  I suppose if I was graded on this blog, I'd actually update more than once every 4 months.  Or I'd fail.  That's always an option (regardless of what I'm forced to tell students).  Perhaps, though, I will update that blog more often than just the 2 required posts, but probably not.  Is it strange that my only problem with the blog assignment is that I have to use WordPress (which is fine, but I prefer blogger) AND that I have to title it SLM508LAB?  Honestly, I hate the blog only because of the name.  It's the course tag and my initials, just in case you were dying to know.  How boring and awful is that name?  I am just so vain.  (I probably think this blog is about me)

All that aside, as much as I complain about grad school, I finally feel like something will be worthwhile.  Looking at the syllabus is terrifying because I feel like she's trying to squeeze in every type of technology possible into an 8 week class, but as I skimmed it, I saw things that should be interesting.  I finally activated my Google Reader account, and I can't wait to see the Digital Storytelling resources, but some of it bugs me.  I have to use Twitter, for instance, and I gave up on twitter because it pissed me off too much.  I also hate that I have to make multiple accounts for essentially the same things I already use for this class.  I need a new Flickr account, a new GoodReads account, and probably others, but I'm too lazy to go through everything just to complain.

Basically, my life is insane until I leave for Italy.  REMINDER: Tell you professor you are going to Italy and need to finish assignments a few days early!

In other news, I am teaching as a fake long-term-sub at my old high school for a woman out on bedrest through the end of the year.  The good news is she may take maternity leave at the beginning of the next school year, so if all the thousands of jobs for English teachers fall through (sarcasm at its finest) that might be something I at least get an interview for.  I also spent 4 days reading as a sub for the librarian at a high school and as an English teacher who was just proctoring exams (so sad).  I tore through 4 books in 4 days, and it feels really great to cross a few more books off the list.

This is me in Chicago, excited about books.  Also, it totally says "Cock Dancing" behind me.

I picked up 8 books at a used book sale a few weeks back.  One of the local public libraries was selling books for a dollar, and as a sucker for cheap literature, I made a U-Turn and went in.  Okay, if you want to get literal, it was a horribly executed K-turn, but still.  The physical turning around did happen.  I bought 5 books from my list, and 3 others that will eventually go on a shelf in the hypothetical future classroom.  I can honestly say that I loved the 4 I read, and The Reader is rumored to be excellent, as well.

I don't know or remember who recommended these books for my list, but THANK YOU.

• The Alchemist (this is already on my mom's summer list, mostly because I told her she had no choice)
• The Hours
• Wide Sargasso Sea (Don't lie to me and say you recommended it; I just thought about it, and realized it was one of the originals because of my love for Jane Eyre)
• Bastard out of Carolina

I'll do some individual comments on these later, since this post is already MUCH longer than I normally make you suffer through, but they were each magnificent, and if you read them, we can chat about them :)