Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: What songs – specifically or in general – have words that you love? Why? Do the tunes that go with the fantastic lyrics live up to them?

This is an easy one, as anyone who knows me will attest to. I love music (who doesn’t?) but it is my love for music and books that draws me to more literary musicians. (I love music that isn’t literary also, but we’re not talking about those today.)

Point in case: The Lucksmiths (Listen to some!):

You have the songs that literally tell a story…
· “Fiction” – Written down here, gentle reader / It seems too good to be true / But there’s a girl in Kansas City / With my favorite tattoo / Oh why would I lie to you?. Listen!
· “The Perfect Crime” – The sun is on the hilltop / Casting shadows on things below / The afternoon has left the valley cold / I raise my eyebrows and grip the dashboard / You take the bends like you built the road / This is the road you travel / Every time you come home

…the songs that talk about books/reading…
· “Danielle Steel” – Spends hours in front of the bookcase / A beast with two paperbacks in bed / She’s read them all from go to woe / And arranged them from A to Z / And you can judge a book by it’s cover
· “English Murder Mystery” – I love her but she loves Agatha Christie / And she’s so wrapped up in the English Murder Mystery

…and those that just have lines which knock me off my feet.
· “A Downside to the Upstairs” – It was a fine idea in autumn / On the palest afternoons / Parallelograms of sunshine fell across the room. Listen!
· “The Cassingle Revival” – Remember when I said you were too young / To start a story with “Remember when…?” / Well that was then, and this is appalling / But in the dappled sunshine / Underneath the clothesline / I spent this afternoon nostalgic for this morning

I also really love bands such as Belle and Sebastian (Listen to some!):

· “My Wandering Days Are Over” – It’s got to be fate that’s doing it / A spooky witch in a sexy dress has been bugging me / With the story of the way it should be / With the story of Sebastian and Belle the singer. Listen!
· “Storytelling” – Picture a scene in your mind / Look at all the people and take note of the setting behind / Listen, watch, and wait / A plot beings to take shape / There’s a story / And then characters will come to you / Relating events as they choose to / But all their words and actions come entirely from you
· “If She Wants Me” – If I could do just one near perfect thing I’d be happy / They’d write it on my grave, or when they scattered my ashes / On second thoughts I’d rather hang about and be there with my best friend / If she wants me. Listen!
· “Wrapped Up in Books” – We’ve got a fantasy affair / We didn’t get wet, we didn’t dare / Our aspirations, are wrapped up in books / Our inclinations are hidden in looks. Listen!

and The Divine Comedy (Listen to some!):

· “My Imaginary Friend” – Would you like to meet my little friend? / Don’t try to shake his hand he’s just pretend. Listen!
· “Perfect Lovesong” – Give me your love / And I’ll give you the perfect lovesong / With a divine Beatles bassline / And a big old Beach Boys sound. Listen!
· “Songs of Love” – Pale, pubescent beasts, roam through the streets / And coffee-shops, their prey gather in herds / Of stiff knee-length skirts, and white ankle-socks / But while they search for a mate, my type hibernate / In bedrooms above, composing their songs of love. Listen!
· “The Booklovers” – Happy the man, and happy he alone who in all honesty can call today his own; / He who has life and strength enough to say ‘Yesterday’s dead & gone – I want to live today’

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: Do you think reviewers are obligated to put up a good review of a book, even if they don’t like it? Have we come to a point where reviewers *need* to put up disclaimers to (hopefully) save themselves from being harassed by unhappy authors who get negative reviews?

This was something I battled with when I first started receiving books for review. For the most part, they are not sent to me out of the blue; I have to request them (which, of course, I don’t mind). There were a few things I had to decide about those reviews before I even clicked the link to request any.

First of all, I decided not to write that they were review copies, unless under special circumstances (like my preview thoughts of Bible: Illuminated, and then later my review with the copy in hand). This takes away the possibility of my readers thinking I’ve reviewed *suchandsuch* book positively simply because it was a review copy. I really don’t like putting disclaimers on things; if you’ll notice, even though my website has personal information and sometimes I write posts of a very personal nature, nowhere will you find a note that tells offline friends not to read. (None of them care about it anyway, but if they did, I wouldn’t mind.)

Secondly, and more to the point, no. I do not believe that reviewers are obligated to write positive reviews simply because they were given the opportunity to a free book. I think that authors are misunderstanding the point of reviewers. We are not here so you can get positive publicity for your book, we are here to share our unique thoughts on your book. That’s it. Everyone has her own review style; in some cases, reviews merely summarize the book and rate it on a five point scale, then move on. Some reviewers analyze every plot point and symbol and don’t give a clear opinion of whether or not the book was enjoyable. Do authors/publishers really expect people to deviate from that style just to give a book a positive review?

It is completely ridiculous to expect someone to lie about liking a book simply because you sent them a copy. It’s sort of a matter of ego.

From a writer’s point of view, if I saw a negative review on any of my writing, it would hurt my pride… Though I would still recognize that my book wasn’t compatable with all audiences, and thus couldn’t blame the poor book blogger for disliking my book.

From an editor’s point of view, I think it’s important to point out the negatives and the positives. Unless the book was just so totally awful that you couldn’t stand to get through it, OMG, please take this thing away from me NOW (which is about how much I liked On the Road by Jack Kerouac), there’s no reason not to praise some points. Maybe character development lacked but the plot was an interesting idea. It’s not for the author’s benefit that you include these things; it’s for your reader.

Okay, I’ve gotten a little off topic here. The point is that I don’t feel it’s necessary to make any disclaimer on a post wherein you are writing your thoughts on something. Why should one have to put a disclaimer on her thoughts? Authors take that risk by sending out books; they might just need a gentle reminder of how publicity works.

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: Name a favorite literary couple and tell me why they are a favorite.

The first part isn’t so hard (though I wouldn’t ever be able to narrow it down to just one couple). It’s the second part where the difficulty comes in, because I’ve never been good at explaining why I like things.

1. Antony and Cleopatra (Shakespeare).
   I was always sort of enamoured with the “shout from the roof-tops” kind of love that the characters had between one another in Shakespeare’s play of the same name. I don’t think that kind of thing really exists in life (probably merely from personal experience, though I couldn’t name one friend who has experienced it either), and I honestly would probably dread it if it happened to me, but I still always find it to be sickly sweet.
2. Hector and Andromache (Homer).
   Story goes that Hector of Troy married Andromache, and they have a son Astyanax. You always hear their names mentioned when people talk about “strength” in relationships, and “courage,” and all that good stuff. It’s for those reasons that I have admired this relationship. Of course, you’ve got another relationship in the book to compare it to – Andromache’s undying loyalty against Helen’s decision to leave her husband, Andromache’s hidden tears against Helen’s open displays of pain and loss… It goes on.
3. Odysseus and Penelope (Homer).
   And like Hector and Andromache’s strength, Odysseus and Penelope are always associated with patience. She sits in front of the loom and weaves the story of Odysseus’ travels, always waiting for him to return (nevermind that he was getting pretty busy himself, and only eventually remembered that he wanted to get back home to his beloved and chaste wife). In any case, it’s to be admired that a love can cross so many years of absence.
4. Aeneas and Dido (Virgil).
   You may wonder about this one, and I sometimes wonder about it too. Like Antony and Cleopatra, Aeneas and Dido’s relationship was full of “such drama” (if they existed today in the celebrity world, I’m sure that’s exactly what would be said about them). In any case, Dido is Aeneas’ equal – strong and independent just like Aeneas. The gods, as usual, muddle things, making her emotional and passionate about Aeneas, virtually stripping the qualities he adores in her. Her love for him is her downfall.
5. Jamie and Claire (Gabaldon).
   I don’t want to say that this is a love that lasts centuries because I don’t know yet if it does (I haven’t read the whole series). But I rarely read a book that has me rooting so strongly for a couple to work out that I’m crying when the characters are crying, yearning when they’re yearning, and ecstatically happy when anything works out between them. The relationship in these books is so developed that you can’t help but feel like a creepy onlooker, watching and biding your time until everything turns out okay between them.

I know! How typical of me to choose a bunch from classical literature… Who are your favorites?

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: Autumn is starting (here in the US, anyway), and kids are heading back to school. Does the changing season change your reading habits? Less time? More? Are you just in the mood for different kinds of books than you were over the summer?

A few people have responded to this question that it doesn’t effect them. That they aren’t mothers, they don’t have younger siblings, they’re out of school, and thus the changing of the seasons does not effect them – much less their reading. I disagree. I think the changing of any season effects people, including readers, whether or not school is involved. (Perhaps the question is phrased misleadingly.) For example, fall may be harsher in some places; perhaps “outside readers” can no longer read outside. Maybe fall brings on a lot of end-of-year responsibilities at work (since the end of the year is closer in sight), thus giving less time for pleasure reading. That has nothing to do with kids going to school.

For me, autumn is an inspiration. September is not usually a big “reading month,” because I’m launching myself into other projects. This year, I think, is an exception merely because I’ve been reading a lot more overall than I have in previous years. I have more time on my hands and thus can juggle more projects. October I usually spend observing the change in weather, relishing in it, but taking time out to read outside more often. October is beautiful here. Since I’ve had a balcony on which to enjoy time as it passes, I’ve made fine use of it. I can only imagine that this fall I’ll be escaping there for much longer periods of time. November is usually very busy for me; I have National Novel Writing Month to take care of, and thus may only finish one or two books (if even that many).

I also like to think of fall as the “meaningful” part of the year; I’m not sure why, but it’s always meant much more to me. It’s always been my time of poetic verse, beautiful blog posts (if that’s even possible :P), and introspective thinking. Since I’ve picked up on my reading habits, I can only imagine that autumn will bring introspective, deeper reading as well.

The most I’ve learned about my reading habits over the summer months is that I didn’t want to review anything, and only did so if I had a set of questions already prepared for myself (usually from those book review guides). When I started reviewing books, it was a beautiful autumn day; I couldn’t get the similarities of my feelings away from the similarity of the characters’ feelings. I just wanted to write and write about how real that book was. I don’t even have that review anymore; it’s locked up somewhere in a journal or some other. I still feel it, though, as though it has a spirit that seeps into me during this time of year and inspires me to write fully functional reviews and really expand on my thoughts about the books I consume.

So I think autumn will be a generally good reading and reviewing season for me, except in November, when I’ll have no motivation to do anything except complain about word count.

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: Quick! It’s an emergency! You just got an urgent call about a family emergency and had to rush to the airport with barely time to grab your wallet and your passport. But now, you’re stuck at the airport with nothing to read. What do you do??

So I was grocery shopping when I got the call and had nothing with me but my wallet and passport (even though none of my family live outside the country and my passport is expired), and for some reason I didn’t even have my purse which always has some kind of reading or writing material in it. I can’t imagine going anywhere without that, even hypothetically, because I feel “naked” without it on my arm while I’m in public. (I’m also not sure why I don’t have my cell phone, since I just got a phone call. Perhaps, hypothetically, it is implanted in my brain, in which case I’m not sure where the issues of flying come in since I don’t know how to turn this new device to “flight mode.” Will the plane crash? Will my brain explode? I guess I’ll just have to find out.) But! Okay, so I’m sitting in an aiport feeling naked.

Well, the obvious solution is that I’ll grab a book from the airport bookstore. I’ve been trying to expand my reading horizons lately – I used to stick merely to “literary fiction” and historical novels, but this past few months I’ve read historical romance, mystery (a genre which I’ve come to love), more non-fiction (I read a lot of non-fiction in school, of course, but I’m not known to read it for pleasure), paranormal romance, and horror. Next on my list is a bit of time-travel, contemporary romance, and non-historical non-fiction because, come on, that’s cheating.

So perhaps I get up off my butt and march straight to the airport bookstore to pick up some mainstream fiction, or something like Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert about which I’ve heard nothing but good things. Perhaps I’ll even look into some James Patterson, because although I have never read any more than a single chapter (2 pages), I have nonetheless made it my mission to hate him for life. If all else fails, I guess I’d pick up Danielle Steele, because apparently everyone reads Danielle Steele.

Now to address the possibility that this question is meant to convey that there are no airport bookstores, that I’m sitting in the lobby waiting for my plane to arrive next to someone who is loudly snoring, sniffling, and threatening to put his feet too close for comfort, and there is no acceptable redemption from the situtation. In this case, I’d bide my time looking out the tall glass window-walls for glimpses of airplanes, traffic directors, luggage transporters, and the occassional official on important business. I am easy to please and since childhood have found the ongoings of an airport to be utterly fantastic. I wouldn’t fidget or complain, and I wouldn’t use the time to text message or telepathically contact any friends. I’d be content with the airplanes.

Reading other responses, I see that people would be too distracted by the hypothetical tragedy to worry about what to read or what to do, but personally, I require distraction while I wait. I’ve been in this situation several times recently (though I had time to pack, among other things, a laptop computer and several books) and have found that it does no good to sit in an airport and worry. That time would be better spent in another world following someone else’s story.

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: Pick up the nearest book. (I’m sure you must have one nearby.) Turn to page 123.

First of all, I just want to say that I’m not sure if I’m supposed to connect this based on what is happening in the book, but all the books currently right next to me are part of my TBR pile so I have no idea what’s going on in them! I’m going to take this as an opportunity to do some creative writing, so my “connection” is not in any way the plot of the book (and if it is, it must be magic because I totally winged it). (Actually, all the books that are next to the chair I’m currently sitting in are the ones that have newly come into my house and haven’t yet been entered into the Word file database I keep of all the books I own. I’m a little behind so it’s a large stack of books.)

What is the first sentence on the page?

“She ignored my question.”

What is the last sentence on the page?

“This neglect meant something far worse.”

Now… Connect them together… (And no you may not transcribe the entire page of the book – that’s cheating!)

She ignored my question. She was busy eating her muffin so ravenously, as if she had never eaten such a muffin before. It was cute, sweet, but I still wanted to know how she’d gotten to where she was. I looked at her intently, hoping to suggest my inquiry was serious and I was determined to know the answer, but her curiousity wasn’t restricted to the man sitting across from her.

Her eyes wandered around the cafe. Every time she experienced something, it was as if it were the first time she’d ever experienced anything like it – the muffin, the cafe, the people in it; even when I approached her and offered to buy her breakfast, she was taken aback. Had human kindness never touched her?

Her head whipped into my direction and she smiled one of those big, bright smiles that sooth even the most confused souls. Suddenly my question didn’t matter anymore and I only wanted to look into those almond-shaped beaming green eyes as they drank in my curiousity. I wanted to know everything about her, not just why she came here or what put her in the condition she was in when I found her. I wanted to know about her sixth grade teacher, her seventeenth birthday, her favorite magazine, what she did under the covers with a flashlight after her parents went to bed. I wanted to know if she enjoyed camping and whether or not she’d ever consider travelling to Chesire countryside with me to spend the night.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice as comforting as her eyes. She rarely spoke, as shy as she was, but what came out where smooth, silky sounds that made one’s heart jump. Her head cocked to one side and her smile began to fade.

“Oh, nothing important,” I lied. I think we promised not to lie to each other when we met this morning, but I felt embarassed to tell her I was thinking of our future. Perhaps as far as she was concerned, we didn’t have a future past this breakfast.

“You look worried.” Her expression doubted me. I realized that she probably hadn’t even heard my question; how could such a sweet, genuine girl ignore someone this way?

I hesitated. “I’m in good shape,” I replied. I’m in good shape? What does that mean? I shook my head and lowered it down so that I was looking at the table. Sometimes a guy can say really dumb things in the presence of a beautiful girl.

“I can tell.” She smiled and then continued her observation of the room around us, apparently content with my answer. I averted my eyes from the table and looked towards the serving bar. A bit of a grin fell across my face; I couldn’t help it. She clearly had been looking and liked what she saw, and I couldn’t ignore the fact that I liked what I saw in her, too.

She scooted her chair closer to my side of the table and I wondered if I should have been noticing these things. I tend to read too much into small motions or changes in facial expressions and draw conclusions based on what I want to be happening. I tend to end up making a fool of myself based on these assumptions, but she did agree to breakfast, right? I still wondered if that was just for a free meal, if she would have agreed to anyone who’d asked. If this was a date, it was the weirdest date I’d ever been on. She couldn’t even make eye contact for more than a few minutes.

I tried to bring something light-hearted back into the conversation. “Hey, stranger, tell me your name.” I’d only just realized that she’d never told me, nor had I ever asked. We’d only been in each other’s company for an hour or so, so it wasn’t too terribly awful of us, but I suddenly felt it very important to ask her her name. I couldn’t keep thinking of her as “that girl who let me buy her breakfast;” I had to put a more suitable label to that face.

“M-my name?” she stuttered, surprised, and I also detected a hint of betrayal. I wondered if asking her name offended her, like in those old fairy tales where no one knows the true name of any of their friends, only nicknames provided as masks to cover up the true nature of the being. She stared at me almost in disgust, though only her eyes told what she was feeling. Her lips were still curved up and her posture hadn’t slumped. “Why would you want to know that?”

“Well,” I started, confused, “so I have something to call you by. Shall I always refer to you as ’stranger’?”

“I’m… perfectly okay with that.” She was uneasy. I’d made her uncomfortable by asking for something so simple as her name. “Can we change the subject, now? Ask me something else.”

This was not like her ignorance of my question. This neglect meant something far worse.

The book? Peony in Love by Lisa See. I got this from Random House a few weeks ago as a free copy, as I’m part of their Reader’s Circle. I don’t know anything about it. Also, I think it would be an interesting idea to take the first and last sentences of a chosen book (or chosen books) and write a short story out of what results.

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: When somebody mentions “literature,” what’s the first thing you think of? (Dickens? Tolstoy? Shakespeare?) Do you read “literature” (however you define it) for pleasure? Or is it something that you read only when you must?

Well, it really depends on who’s asking and where I am. It used to be the “classics” – Dickens, Twain, Tolstoy, Shelley, etc etc, no matter what. But when I started working at my current job, I started associating the word with what is contained in the actual “literature” section there. Anthologies, literary letters, books about authors or authors’ works, literary criticism, and so on. However, I only think of it this way at work. It has to be in that context, otherwise those sections are just what they are to me; they don’t belong under the “literature” heading.

Generally, though, now I suppose the word “literature” applies to “modern classics.” When I think of Dickens and those types of authors, I do think of the word “classics” (not to be confused with the word “classical,” which makes me think of Homer and Virgil and those fellows). I think of Gore Vidal, Kurt Vonnegut, Ray Bradbury, Annie Dillard, Ha Jin, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, etc. “Thinking” fiction, as I compared it to mainstream fiction in my most recent review of Once… by James Herbert. For lack of a better way to put it – it’s literary fiction. :)

I do read literature how I define it outside of work. The “read when I must” doesn’t really apply to me since I’m not in school or anything, but when I was in school, I did find I read a lot of literary-ish stuff, but in even amounts to the less literary stuff I read. I definitely read more literature at this point in my life than I ever have before.

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: While acknowledging that we can’t judge books by their covers, how much does the design of a book affect your reading enjoyment? Hardcover vs. softcover? Trade paperback vs. mass market paperback? Font? Illustrations? Etc.?

Well, I wouldn’t say cover art affects my reading enjoyment of books, but the other elements certainly do. I’ve read books with miniscule fonts slapped onto large pages – rather, I’ve struggled through books with miniscule fonts slapped onto large pages, mostly finding myself trying very hard to get into the story and yet wanting nothing more than to start a new book. I generally don’t like reading books with a lot of illustrations because I tend to get sucked into them and lose my place in the story (unless, of course, it’s a storybook); however (and possibly hypocritically), books that strive to have small illustrations at the beginning of each chapter, I feel, should have different illustrations which take some point from the theme or a detail in the chapter. For example, I’m currently reading a book which has a small picture of a castle at the beginning of each chapter. No fun! I want each picture to be different – a woman heading the chapter with the friendly neighbor woman who makes breakfast, a frighteningly skinny man heading the chapter with the creepy butler. Perhaps I don’t enjoy the story less because all the illustrations are the same, but I feel I would enjoy it that much more if they were different.

I’d be surprised to find out if different book formats didn’t affect someone’s enjoyment of a book. Most people seem to prefer certain things over other things – personally, I like trade paperbacks best. I really dislike reading hardcovers, but I will if I have to; and mass market paperbacks are fine but they can sometimes get too uncomfortable. You also often face the problem of tiny font, too many words, not much space, but they still managed to squish so many ideas onto one page. Trade paperbacks are comfortable, easy, and they sort of flop around. They remind me of bunny ears. Plus, you really have to try to crack the spines. I feel like I can’t open mass markets or hardcovers all the way while I’m reading because I don’t like cracked spines. Trade papers, however, open fully without that awful bone-cracking sound.

Now, as I said, book covers don’t affect my enjoyment of the book, but I’d like to close this meme by inserting the fact that I do often judge books by their covers and have been known to buy really crappy books with really awesome covers over really great books with terrible covers.

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: You’ve just reached the end of a book . . . what do you do now? Savor and muse over the book? Dive right into the next one? Go take the dog for a walk, the kids to the park, before even thinking about the next book you’re going to read? What?

(Obviously, there can be more than one answer, here–a book with a cliff-hanger is going to engender different reactions than a serene, stand-alone, but you get the idea!)

For the most part, I savor the moment. First, I have a bit of time to myself (I don’t consider reading time “time to myself” because I’m keeping in close company with the characters). After a bit of distance is placed between the immediate ending of the book, I start to think back on it as a whole. I find that if I try to think of the entire story right away, I focus on the ending too much and miss out on a lot of my musings towards the beginning or middle. (On that note, I sometimes keep track of my questions during a book by writing them down, and this would be the time to go back and see if any of them were answered.) In any case, after I feel like I’ve given the book enough justice to put it back on the bookshelf and stop flipping through/thinking of it, I start on the next book.

It’s a hard task for me to just put a book back on the bookshelf. It may seem odd (because it is), but I don’t like to put them away from my sight so quickly. I’d like for them to float around a little while in front of me, reminding me of the enriching story I’ve just gotten through or the favorite character who shared his life with me.

If, however, the book is part of a series, and assuming I’ve read the first one*, I’ll usually immediately pick up the next, if I can. This is whether or not there’s a cliffhanger; sometimes these books stand well enough on their own, but I’m so interested in the lives of the characters that I just must go on!

*Often times I find myself accidentally picking up a book in the middle of a series. This is due to some confusion in copyright date/republishing, the listing on the inside cover of the book, or incorrect website information. For example, I somehow got it through my head that Unsigned was the first book in Julie Kaewert’s Booklover mysteries. I got through it fine, albeit a bit confused, and now plan on going back to the first to start all over. Yes, it’s true, that was the fifth book in the series so I have a lot of catching up to do!

Today’s Booking Through Thursday question is: How about a chance to play editor-in-chief? Fill in the blanks:

___ would have been a much better book if ___.

Where do I begin? On the Road by Jack Kerouac would have been a much better book if

• it wasn’t one long sentence.
• it wasn’t so boring.
• it actually was a story.
• it could be summarized in any way except by saying “it was long.”
• the main character travelled eastward instead of westward.
• the language wasn’t so long-winded that I fell asleep after every word, only waking up to realize that I’m in the same location as I was 10 pages ago, still pondering the same thoughts and ideas, still wondering about life.
• it was at all possible to enjoy this book during a time when I was happy and settled in life.

With all this in mind, though, I know that if I were allowed to edit On the Road before it was released into the public, it wouldn’t be as popular as it is today. I’m quite aware that some of these points are the reason why a lot of people like it (except the boring part, I think they just don’t want to admit that they didn’t have any fun reading it!).

Some bloggers’ answer to the question this week involve saying things like, “it’s not my place to change someone else’s work, that’s how they wanted it written!” and other things similar to what I just said above. However, it’s not a crime to have an opinion, especially if your opinion is right. Like mine is. ;)

In all seriousness, though, what are your thoughts? Have you ever read through a book that pushed you in all the wrong ways and thought about how you could have made it better? And for that matter, what did you think of On the Road?