You can't do this with an e-reader

It's no secret that I'd take a bookcase full of books over an e-reader any day of the week. But I'm not so much opposed to e-readers as I'm in favor of books. Maybe someday I'll be an e-reader convert, but for the time being I'm happy with my stacks of books.

I enjoy any time my love for books is shared. At the Academy Awards this year, The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Lessmore took the Oscar for Best Animated Short. I hadn't seen it, or even heard of it, but I looked it up and it's actually quite adorable.

It's a pretty simple animated film. I love the symbolism of people changing from black and white to color as they read (there are definitely a few references to The Wizard of Oz). And the personification of the books is just fabulous. And I loved the idea of how books connect ideas and stories of generations. Well you'll just have to watch for yourself...

The girl next door

When I was in middle school, my family moved. It was only a few miles, but it meant a new house, a new school, a new neighborhood, even a new grocery store. I had changed schools a few times while in elementary school, but moving in middle school was a much more difficult experience for me. I switched schools before I moved into our new house so I prayed and prayed that I would have a girl my same age in my neighborhood to befriend. For some reason I had my heart set on the idea of a friend just down the street to go to the neighborhood pool with. Unfortunately, I never made such a friend.

{FYI--I did make friends. But all of them required some sort of transportation to hang out with.}

Last night our next-door neighbor invited us over for an Academy Awards party. We had some finger foods and filled out ballots of who we thought would win the Oscar. We talked about movies and books that inspired movies and actors and actresses. My neighbor even made Bavarian cream (or chocolate jello as her little girl calls it). It was delicious and the whole thing was just a lot of fun.

 And as I walked the 10 seconds it took me to get home, I realized that I finally have friends that live down the street, next door even. We're not all the same age and it's a dozen years later than I had hoped, but that doesn't mean I appreciate them any less.

Now if only we had a neighborhood swimming pool to visit.

And the beat goes on...

I know you've all been waiting to hear the results of my complaint fast. You are sitting on the edge of your seat. Chewing at the bit. Can hardly contain your excitement.

Well I'm here to relieve your anxiety: it was a total and complete failure.

And I'm completely fine with that. You know that quote by Emerson, "Once you make a decision the universe conspires to make it happen"? I have seen that many times in my life. However, I've also seen the universe conspire to make it really, really difficult to do whatever it was I decided. That universe is a fickle friend. This time I think the universe was trying to tell me to eat some ice cream and take a nap. So I listened.

But not before realizing something. I think there is a difference between a complaint and complaining. Or between acknowledging and dwelling. The former can lead to improvement or change while the latter usually just brings you down (as well as those around you). I was glad when one of my friends left a comment saying that she doesn't think of me as a complainer. Phew! At least I've successfully hid my complaining.

But the recognition that everything isn't perfect is completely healthy as long as it doesn't become a focus. (Or become whining. Complaining is one thing; whining is a completely different can of worms.) Spend some time complaining, but then spend more time fixing it. And don't be fooled into complacency by the oft-repeated, "It could be worse." Simply respond, "Yes, but it could also be better."   

image via here

According to George Bernard Shaw, I should be grateful that my days are busy as I try to make things better. And boy are they busy! 

Of course, if I happen to come across something that I simply can't change or that doesn't want my improvement, then I have found that eating some chocolate and taking a nap is a wonderful course of action.

Why didn't they name it Greatreads?

I'm recommitting to Goodreads. It seems like something I would embrace whole-heartedly, but I just haven't for some reason. I think it's because I struggle with writing book reviews. You would think I would feel in my element after studying English literature, but I get really self conscious. It's hard when I give a book five stars only to see that all of my friends gave it only two. It makes me question my taste. How did I love that book and others don't? Maybe it's the disappointment that comes when you recommend a book only to have others not share your enthusiasm. It's like showing up wearing stripes when the rest of your class is totally wearing polka dots. OK, maybe it's nothing like that, but I still feel self conscious.

So I started scrutinizing other reviews. I wanted to see what works and what doesn't. Here is what I came up with:

• Include a good quote. Actually give someone a taste of the writer. No need to go on and on about the writer's amazing command of the English language. Let a well-chosen quote speak for itself.
• Give the readers a little context of yourself. You don't need to tell your whole life history, but letting the reader know  that you love science fiction and hate poetry might help them understand where you are coming from with your review.
• Describe your experience in reading it. Did you laugh? Did you cry? Did you read it in one sitting because you couldn't put it down? Or did it take you months and all the endurance you could muster to finally finish that baby? As a reader, this helps me determine if I'm in the mood for a book or not. 
• Provide a comparison. Did it remind you of something? Perhaps another book? Maybe a movie?
• Hold back on the hyperbole. Sometimes hearing how a book changed someone else's life sets my expectations too high and I end up being overly judgmental of a work. (This is a note I need to remember when talking about books in general. Not everyone loves Dickens the way I do.)
• Go back to what you learned in 4th grade and write something that hooks the reader (assuming you liked the book). This review really stuck out in my mind:  I liked it. Don't get me wrong, it is definitely chock-full of estrogen-soaked coming of age wisdom, complete with a veritable orgy scene of feminine self-discovery in which a roomful of goddess-worshipping gospel earth mothers smear honey onto a wooden likeness of the Virgin Mary. Admit it, you're kind of interested. 

This is what I gleaned from a little study of Goodreads. Definitely not a comprehensive how to, but it will be nice to refer to the next time my review consists of, "I liked it." I have some friends that write some pretty rockstar reviews. In fact, some of their reviews are better than the books they are reviewing. I rely on them for recommendations or cautions so it's only fair that I pay it forward.

p.s. I'm about half way through my complaint fast and I'm ready to throw in the towel. My mom posed a good question yesterday, "What exactly do you get for not complaining?" Still don't have an answer for that one.

grumble grumble grumble

Lately I have been telling Nate that I feel like I complain too much. Yes, you heard right: I complain that I complain. My name is M.C. and I have a problem.

Last year I read this post on frolic! about how Chelsea made a pact to not complain for a week. I like the sound of that. A complaint fast, if you will.

I used to think that complaining was fine as long as you were witty in your criticism. But the truth is, being around a complainer is completely draining--especially if that complainer is yourself. (Does it count if I complain about complainers? There's a lot of metacomplaining going on here.)

I'm not saying that complaining isn't justified. It's just that I've found that it holds me back. I want to be a person who looks at the world and sees opportunities rather than obstacles. My hindsight is 20/20, but I usually struggle to see the luck staring me straight in my face.

This next week is going to be complaint free (but the goal is to have it last longer than a week). If you hear me utter so much as a slight annoyance in the next seven days, feel free to call me out on it. And I'll make sure to update you on my experience. Hopefully I'll be sporting a chic pair of rose-colored glasses this time next week.