Slow Reads can be Good Reads, Too

I am finally reading the conclusion to the Inkheart trilogy by Cornelia Funke: Inkdeath. I bought all three books two years ago and read the first one (Inkheart) right away. Even though I enjoyed the book, it was a long read, and I didn't immediately start the second book. When I finally did start the second book (Inkspell), it took me nearly a year of reading it on-again-off-again to complete it. One of my friends had told me she'd had difficulties reading the second one but that the third one was worth it, so I kept going. She was right. I am immensely enjoying Inkdeath, yet I am finding that reading the book is slow going for me.

I am normally a pretty fast reader, and when I get pulled into a book, I often find that when I am released (usually because the phone rings or I realize I haven't eaten for a while or someone interrupts my spell), I will have read a hundred pages in what feels like no time at all. With the Inkheart books, though, it's more like I'll make it through twenty pages instead of a hundred. On the surface, it didn't make much sense to me that it was taking so long to read the books--the books are written for young readers, so I'm not dealing with words I don't know or hard-to-read sentences or anything like that. These books are just slow reads for me.

Before I encountered good books that are slow reads, I probably would have guessed that not being able to read through any book at a normal pace is caused by lack of interest. That is not always the case (in fact, a lack of interest sometimes causes me to speed up just to try to get through the book). I am now finding that sometimes a book speaks to me at such a deep level that part of my energy is focused on digesting the deeper connection, leaving only a fraction of my mental space open for digesting the words I'm reading on the page.

I am infatuated with the world Funke created in her Inkheart books; based on its vivid descriptions, Inkworld is a fabulous place, and I want to feel the complex emotions Funke so painstakingly describes at every step of the story. I want to meet these characters--even the evil ones--because she has put so much thought into making each and every one of them a round character and not simply a flat, stock character who plays his destined role in the background.

And more than anything else, her books are making me want to write. Her words are sparking ideas in me that I had left dormant because my schedule has been rather filled lately. Her words are making me feel guilty for not doing what's on my to-do list. So yet another part of me is pulled away from focusing on the words on the page, pestering me about what I should be doing with my time.

Although I'm a couple hundred pages from finishing (Inkdeath is around 700 pages, so I'm still a good way through the book), I already know that when I close its covers, I'm going to love the series. Even now, I acknowledge that the second book didn't quite draw me in as much as the first one did or the last one is, but I can't say I don't like Inkspell. Maybe it didn't draw me in as much because it was like the second movie of the Lord of the Rings trilogy--I watched it because I needed the middle part of the story, but the second movie was so dependent on continuing what had already happened in the first movie and setting viewers up for the third movie that it didn't feel like a movie in its own rights. The second movie was my least favorite of the three. It felt like nothing happened because nothing was really begun or finished in its duration. I think maybe Inkspell was the same way for me. I can't like it the best because nothing was begun or finished in its duration.

Why mention the possibility of a good book being a slow read? Because I've found a new twist in my reading journey; I've found a new definition of 'joie de lire'. I used to associate good books with my hypnotic reading states--those periods of reading where I forget a world exists around me, and I end up reading an entire book in one or two sittings. And now I'm beginning to realize that not all good books do that to me. Some books, even those that could potentially end up on my 'top ten' book list, will not cause me to go into a reading stupor but instead will make me feel antsy with inspiration and provocation, making it nearly impossible to get through the book at my normal reading pace.

Have any good books caused you to slow down?

Foreshadowing?

I finished reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak over the weekend (I loved the book, by the way); when I finished the book, I read the reader's guide information at the back of the book. One of the discussion questions included a question about the foreshadowing in the book, which got me thinking about how I defined foreshadowing.

Before reading The Book Thief, I read The House at Riverton by Kate Morton.

Morton's book is a beautifully tragic mystery, in which readers are given pieces of the finished puzzle and have to put those pieces together for themselves. The mystery (i.e., the missing pieces of the puzzle) that drives the central plot is not completely revealed until the last pages of the book. Along the way, there are clues cleverly placed for readers to figure out little bits on their own, but Morton makes her readers wait until the end to get the entire picture. To me, this type of technique is foreshadowing--giving clues along the way that give readers hints as to what will happen (or, in some cases, as to what has already happened but been kept secret).

Zusak's The Book Thief, on the other hand, doesn't do what I would call foreshadowing--when the narrator introduces new story lines, he tells the readers what the end of the story will be (so you get the end result of the puzzle) and then tells readers the details for how the story got to be that way. So it's like looking at a finished puzzle that's been lacquered together already and having to figure out where the individual pieces are and how they build off each other. I don't think that is foreshadowing--I would call it presenting the story out of chronological order but not foreshadowing. When the end is told to you before the beginning, any clues given along the way are simply building the picture you already know.

Do you agree? (Or do you have a better literary term that I should become familiar with for how the story is told in The Book Thief?)

Childhood Challenge: I AM LEAPER

For this month, I chose to re-read I Am Leaper by Annabel Johnson.

From Memory
I honestly couldn't remember much about this book besides the fact that one of its main characters is a kangaroo rat that could speak through a computer and that I had enjoyed it as a young reader (I first read it when I was eight or nine years old). About the same time that I read this book for the first time, my mom brought home a computer from her classroom (she was a fourth grade teacher)--an Apple computer with a glowing green screen and a blinking box as its cursor.

I was infatuated with the computer--if for no other reason than I could play the Lemonade Stand game on the computer. Having a computer factor into the I Am Leaper book in such an integral way got me excited about the possibilities of what computers could do. The front of the book ties in its computer connection, using the old school computer font for its title, and all the numbers for the chapters are typed in the same font.

As you may have noticed, I remembered much more about the connections I made with the book than the book itself. I think most avid readers find themselves, at some point or another, remembering feelings or memories associated with books that really have nothing to do with what happens in the book.

After Re-reading
At least my memories didn't steer me wrong on this one--a kangaroo rat does indeed talk into a computer. What I had forgotten, though, was that the kangaroo rat (named Leaper) communicated through the computer to scientists, trying to warn them about a monster that was destroying her desert home. When the scientists realize she can speak, they turn from paying attention to her messages to wondering how they could best make money off their discovery of a talking animal. Leaper then turns to a young boy who works as a janitor for the building, who is able to communicate directly with animals. The book is an illustration of how the greed of humans can often get in the way of true understanding and that there is a purity in the youth that allows children to be better helpers (or at the very least understanders) than adults. It also strives to teach children the importance of being mindful of nature and knowing that what we as humans do can have disastrous effects on animals and their habitats.

There are some very deep messages embedded into a quick read, making it a good book for parents to read with their young readers. I'm not sure I got the deeper messages when I was a kid (or if I did, I didn't overtly associate them with the book). The book would be good for readers who are just starting out with chapter books that follow a single storyline because its chapters are short with text broken up by engaging illustrations.

Happy re-reading your favorite books!

Thank You, Pinky Dinky Doo!

First, I'm going to preface this post by saying I've got a four-year-old son. Second, his favorite channel to watch during breakfast is Nick, Jr. With those two things in mind, please read on.

This morning as I watched Pinky Dinky Doo with my son, I realized how incredible the show is for developing early literacy skills. If you've never seen the show before, it's about a girl, Pinky Dinky Doo, who uses stories to explain concepts or meanings of big words to her little brother, Tyler Dinky Doo. For example, in today's episode, she explained to Tyler the meaning of the word impetuous with a silly story. Introducing kids to new words would be enough to make me thankful for the show, but its benefits don't stop there.

At the end of each story, Pinky Dinky Doo does a review of the story for her younger brother (or, in reality, for the young viewers). She'll ask retention questions like "Which of these three events happened first?" or "Who said this line?" But she'll also ask broader questions like "What title would best go with the story I just told?" When she asks her questions, my son yells out the answers and laughs when Pinky shows something silly (like when she said, "Should this story be called 'The Underwater Underwear'?" he got a case of the giggles).

If you don't have a young child in your life, I wouldn't necessarily recommend that you run out and watch the show. But if you do have a young child in your life, I highly recommend that you watch this show with him or her. I have to say that this is my favorite story-focused show since Reading Rainbow.

Happy reading and sharing the joys of reading with a young reader!

Childhood Challenge: MANDIE AND THE HIDDEN TREASURE

First of all, I have to admit that this post is a little late--I wrote it early on in the month (and I was proud for having done it in such a timely manner), but then life happened, and it is now in the late evening hours on the last day of the month. The last day of the month wouldn't be such a horrible time to write a post if it weren't this particular post: My Childhood Challenge is to re-read one book from my childhood years per month (and blog about it). I very nearly missed my update on the challenge for the month. If only my schedule could operate around my blog posting...

This month, I chose to re-read one of the Mandie books by Lois Gladys Leppard. I loved the Mandie books when I was younger, and I owned quite a few from the series. My favorite of all the Mandie books was book #9: Mandie and the Hidden Treasure.

From My Memory
When I was 8, my family planned a road trip to Texas; for the road trip, I was able to get a new book. My mom took me to a Christian bookstore in Jefferson City and let me pick out any book I wanted from the shelves. The book that jumped out at me was Mandie and the Hidden Treasure. I was immediately attracted to the cover (shown above) because it featured three things that fascinated me: a Native American (I have, for a long time, been drawn into the culture and history of Native Americans), clothes that depicted a historical setting (i.e., the story took place a long time ago), and the words "hidden treasure" in the title. I think I fell in love with the book long before I even opened it to read the first page. It didn't matter to me that the book wasn't the first one in the series, as most the series that were published during the late 80s for younger readers were series that didn't have to be read from the beginning to end. In fact, I didn't start at book 1 for any of the series I read during my younger years.

During our family road trip that year, I sat in the fifth wheel with my sister as we drove to Texas (something I'm sure is highly illegal these days). We sat on opposite sides of the little kitchen table in the RV, bouncing down the highway, and I devoured the book. After reading the book, I became obsessed with finding a hidden treasure of my own and, within a year after finishing the book, became very attached to an old dilapidated building partially hidden in the woods that I saw on every trip to Jefferson City (we lived about 45 minutes away from Jefferson City and did all our "big city" shopping there). Every time I saw the building, it inspired me to daydream about my own adventures and what treasures I might find hidden in it. The daydreams usually ended up with me finding a locket: I remember there was a locket in Mandie and the Hidden Treasure, which makes me think that a locket is what was buried and was the hidden treasure Mandie looked for.

I loved the book as a kid, and I was excited to re-read it when I picked it up at the beginning of the month.

After Re-Reading
Sometimes I forget how redundant books can be that are meant for young readers--important details get repeated to help young readers keep up with the storyline. While that repetition is good for young readers, it can drive seasoned readers bonkers. If you are an adult wanting to read the Mandie books for the first time, I will warn you that you will need to skim in quite a few areas to get over the repetition. For example, the book starts out with three characters (Mandie, Joe, and Sally), who have found an old map that claims it leads to a buried treasure. The characters talk about the map, the locations on the map, and the distances between those locations as they are marked out on the map. In two pages, the directions are repeated three times. I don't remember ever having problems with the writing style of the Mandie books when I was younger, so I'm assuming the repetition didn't bother me then.

When I posted about re-reading Sign of the Beaver, I found it interesting that my one clear memory of the book had little to nothing to do with the overall storyline of the book. The same thing happened with this book: The locket I so fondly remembered played a minute role in the book and was not the hidden treasure Mandie was tracking down. That goes to show how memories are not pristine.

I have to admit that I was a little let down when I finished Mandie and the Hidden Treasure. The re-reading didn't live up to my expectations that had been built based on my original love for the Mandie books. The book wasn't well written, but its storyline did focus on topics that still intrigue me (who doesn't dream of finding an old map that will lead to a forgotten treasure?). I can see why I liked the book when I was younger, but the writing was a major roadblock to my enjoyment of the book as a more mature reader.

While I was disappointed, I did not--and still do not--regret re-reading the book. I don't have any immediate plans to re-read any of the other Mandie books, but I also don't have any plans to get rid of any of the Mandie books still gracing my bookshelves. I love the books for what they were--they were what I needed when I was younger to encourage my budding 'joie de lire.' Even the disappointment of not being blown away by the book as an adult reader cannot erase my memories of the joy I got when I read and re-read the books when I was younger.

Happy reading!

A Narnian Character that Won My Heart

While reading The Chronicles of Narnia, I encountered a character that quickly found a way into my heart and entered my top list of favorite literary characters. Perhaps (if you've read the books), you're wondering if I fell in literary love with Lucy or Aslan or dear Mr. Tumnus or Digory or any other number of fine characters you meet on your reading journey through Narnia. The answer to all the above is "No, that's not the one." This post is dedicated to my personal favorite Narnian figure: Puddleglum.

First, how could you not have at least a little crush on someone with a name like Puddleglum? Say it out loud a few times, and maybe you'll feel the same whimsical attachment I feel for the name alone. Then add to that a character whose appearance is so awkward that he has to be lovable, and you've got the makings of a memorable character.

Puddleglum, as created by Donna Sims

Puddleglum's name and appearance aside, his character is unassuming, yet valiant. Though he thinks nothing of himself (he is the humblest of humbles), he is the first to step into a dangerous situation to protect those he's with. While his motives for doing so are often along the lines of "It doesn't matter if anything bad happens to me," I felt a certain fierce loyalty he had for his traveling companions--even when he himself was scared beyond scared, he took care of his friends. I won't get into describing too many of the situations he and his friends find themselves in because there may be readers out there who haven't yet read the books but plan on reading them sometime in the future--I don't want to give away all the good stuff from the story Puddleglum plays a part in.

Puddleglum, as drawn by Dawn D. Davidson

Along with Puddleglum's character is his language. As his name suggests, Puddleglum is a glum character, and how he chooses to state things had me laughing and yearning to reach through the pages to give him a big hug. Here are some of the choice quotes I pulled from the story that helped to engrave Puddleglum on my literary heart:

Quote 1 (taken from page 581):

“Can you help us find Prince Rilian?”

The Marsh-wiggle sucked in his cheeks till they were hollower than you would have thought possible. “Well, I don’t know that you’d call it help,” he said. “I don’t know that anyone can exactly help. It stands to reason we’re not likely to get very far on a journey to the north, not at this time of the year, with the winter coming on soon and all. And an early winter too, by the look of things. But you mustn’t let that make you down-hearted. Very likely, what with enemies, and mountains, and rivers to cross, and losing our way, and next to nothing to eat, and sore feet, we’ll hardly notice the weather. And if we don’t get far enough to do any good, we may get far enough not to get back in a hurry.”

Quote 2 (taken from page 583):

“… They all say — I mean, the other wiggles all say — that I’m too flighty; don’t take life seriously enough. If they’ve said it once, they’ve said it a thousand times. ‘Puddleglum,’ they’ve said, ‘you’re altogether too full of bobance and bounce and high spirits. You’ve got to learn that life isn’t all fricasseed frogs and eel pie. You want something to sober you down a bit. We’re only saying it for your own good, Puddleglum.’ That’s what they say. Now a job like this — a journey up north just as winter’s beginning, looking for a prince who probably isn’t there, by way of a ruined city that no one has ever seen — will be just the thing. If that doesn’t steady a chap, I don’t know what will.”

Quote 3 (taken from page 647 and said while the characters were trapped underground):

“Courage, friends,” came Prince Rilian’s voice. “Whether we live or die Aslan will be our good lord.”

“That’s right, Sir,” said Puddleglum’s voice. “And you must always remember there’s one good thing about being trapped down here: it’ll save funeral expenses.”

Quote 4 (taken from page 658):

“Now, speaking of funerals,” began Puddleglum, but Jill, who heard the Centaurs tapping with their hoofs behind her, surprised him very much by flinging her arms around his thin neck and kissing his muddy-looking face, while Eustace wrung his hand. Then they both rushed away tot he centaurs, and the Marsh-wiggle, sinking back on his bed, remarked to himself, “Well, I wouldn’t have dreamt of her doing that. Even though I am a good-looking chap.”

The quotations show how gloomy, yet endearing, Puddleglum can be. When I write my own stories, I hope I can create such a character that will make readers want to jump into the stories themselves, if for no other reason than to meet a single character face-to-face. And, Puddleglum, I'd jump into Narnia just for you.

Happy reading!

Unread Book Challenge: CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

I just finished reading The Chronicles of Narnia--all seven books in the series. Now that I have finished reading the books, I have a confession to make: I was dreading reading The Chronicles of Narnia.

I never read the books when I was younger because I didn't much enjoy fantasy books. I remember watching a movie based on The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe when I was younger, and the story didn't appeal to me. I think my sister had the books on her bookshelf (she can correct me if I'm wrong, but I know I remember seeing them on someone's bookshelf...), and I remember thinking, "Why would anyone want to read books about talking animals?" At the time, I just didn't get it. It took me a while to come around to reading fantasy; in fact, I was in college before a friend convinced me to read The Complete Book of Swords, my first foray into fantasy. It wouldn't be until I read Harry Potter, though, that the true magnificence of fantasy would finally open my eyes to a genre I had been largely ignoring most of my life.

And so, it was with a bit of trepidation that I included The Chronicles of Narnia in my Book to Read Next Poll because I figured that would be the winner. My underlying motive was to read it early on in the Unread Books Challenge, though, so that I could get it out of the way.

I had started reading the books right after my son was born (a little over 4 years ago), and I still had my small paper bookmark, showing the place where I had stopped reading (right after the beginning of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe). So I had made it through the first book in the series, but I couldn't remember a single thing about what I had read (which I find odd, seeing as how I can leave off for several years in the middle of other books and have no problems picking the storyline up again). I began at the beginning.

I flew through the series--not because I was skimming to get to the end but because I was so intrigued that I had to keep going. I wish I had read the books when I was younger because I'd like to know what I would have thought of the books as a younger reader; as an adult, I found I wanted to get out my red editor's pen and mark places that could have used a bit more detail (I've read that J.R.R. Tolkien, a friend of C.S. Lewis, felt the same way about the books), yet I still adored the stories. I adored the stories so much that I'll be dedicating at least two upcoming posts to stories of Narnia.

And so I thank my readers for giving me a gentle push toward finally reading the classic Narnia books by voting that book as the winner of the BTRN poll. In the next couple days, I'll post the next BTRN poll and continue reading my way through my own bookshelves.

Happy reading!