July 12, 2011

On Dragons and Elves

So, let me just put this out there:

I flippin’ hate Lord of the Rings.

I subscribe to the Randal Graves’ school of thought when it comes to the books and the movies.  It’s just too much walking and too much… nothing.  And I don’t care about elves to boot. And until I read (and watched) Game of Thrones, I didn’t care much for dragons either.  They never seemed like the bad-ass creatures they were supposed to be.

Enter Game of Thrones and one of the best passages I’ve read in a book lately.  If you’re not familiar with the story, it’s a multi-POV extravaganza of swords, wolves, mythos and seemingly lots of people with purple (violet) eyes.  I admit, I fell in love with the show before I even knew there were books, and I finished the first season before I was too far into the book.  One of my favorite characters, in both the book and the television show, is Tyrion.  He’s a brilliant character and chapter 13 is written from his POV.

(Spoiler alert…)

In the chapter, he heads off from camp with a book on dragons, and the readers are treated to a brief passage from the book he’s reading.  The passage describes a battle between two long-warring sides.  On one side, there are thousands of men.  On the other, only a handful by comparison.  The battle starts and the smallest side just flees. A minute later, the king and his sisters enter the battlefield astride three massive dragons that burn the field clean of the larger army. The king takes the realm and so on and so forth.

And, quite simply, I had the chills. I’ve dragged myself through most of the LoTR books (except The Hobbit, which I rather liked,) and though I’m struggling to get through Game of Thrones due to time constraints, when I do find the time to read, I’m enthralled. The description is just right and the pacing is perfect and there’s a great blend of action and conversation. Throw in some embedded media about bad-ass dragons and I’m sold.

George R.R. Martin has been called the Tolkein of his generation, but as a writer, I’m a little bothered by that. To me, Tolkein’s books just… aren’t interesting. And I know! That’s sacrilege! But I don’t care. Martin’s books are lively page-turners that translate beautifully to television. As a writer, I feel like I can learn a lot from Martin’s books about how to find the right mix of elements. It’s an adventure, yes, it’s high fantasy, yes, but it lacks that dragging feeling that so many other high fantasy novels seem to suffer from. I’m willing to grant–in all fairness–that this may not hold true through the next four books, but so far, I just want to find the time to read more.

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July 1, 2011

And so we begin.

I’ve got three books in progress right now, listed handily over in the sidebar.  Since all three are previously unread books, I’ve decided that this is a great place to start, so without further ado, allow me to introduce the first of three…

Against the Grain by Richard Manning

I was born and raised about 1300 miles from where I currently live.  To get there from here is practically a straight line.  After driving northeast for about 90 minutes, you turn due east and drive until your eyeballs fall out.  Between the mountains of my current home and the lake of my birthplace, there are endless acres–literally as far as the eye can see–of farmland.  It stretches in every direction, a careful weaving of green and gold and the occasional ripple of blue river.

On a recent trip to visit my mother and show off my baby to old friends, we passed through these miles of farmland alternating between discussion of what was going on around us and moaning and groaning about the smell of cows.  As interstate 80 cuts through Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Ohio, it’s easy to spot the large commercial tools that grace our farms, and it’s easy to see the effect.  There are few, if any, family farms, and over and again, there’s… monoculture.  It’s a word used frequently in Against the Grain, and once you see it, there’s no better word.

In my own writing, I have a character who lives on her family’s old–now nonoperational–farm.  As I crafted the setting in my head, I found myself imagining the place in years past.  A chicken coop in one corner of the yard, a small plot for vegetables along the side of the house, an old fruit orchard down by the river.  Idyllic, to be sure, but it was a romantic vision for a time long gone and a romantic vision of the type of place that barely exists anymore.

I’m about halfway through Against the Grain, and though I haven’t learned a lot of new information, the structure of the book allows me to think about it in a different way.  I read about the change in farming culture, the industrialization of our food, and I long for the memories of the farms that once were.  I find myself wondering if discussions of life on a farm, songs about Old McDonald and stories about chickens and cows and strawberries all existing in the same place will have a place in my child’s life.

In the back of my mind, I turn over facts about pesticides and lobbyists, but at the forefront, I’m simply mourning the loss of what once was.

–

 

What else am I reading?

Jackie as Editor by Greg Lawrence

Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

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Filed under History, Anthropology & Archaeology, Love Letter, Non-Fiction, Political & Social Commentary

June 28, 2011

So it started one day…

It was a quiet Sunday, the kind of day that follows a quiet Saturday.  I was rested and relaxed and… restless.  The sun was burning too hot and the air was blowing too cold, so I opted to do what any book junkie would do: I took everything off my shelves, sorted it, organized it in an online library, and gave myself a project.

What’s that you say?

Others would never dream of such a thing?

Well then, I guess it’s a good thing you’re here.  It’s important to stretch your horizons, put on people’s crazy-hats and dance around for awhile.  Yes.  So, where was I?

Ah.  So a little bit of restlessness took hold, I made asked my husband to build me a bookshelf, and got to work.  And from this labor, came forth a project.

For the Love of Pages is my love letter to the books that grace my shelves.  They’re not all mine — my husband is a book lover and a knowledge seeker, too.  I’ve received quite the influx lately: my father downsized and didn’t have storage space for many of his books, an old teacher had a garage sale, and so on.  The stack of “to be read” had become unwieldy and it was time to show the appreciation all these books deserved.  They weren’t created to linger on shelves or be shoved under beds.  Someone labored and loved and journeyed and wrote those precious books, and for that, I will be always grateful.

So, I’m starting my own journey right now.  I’m working through every unread book in my personal library and I’m going to share it with you.  I expect a lot of laughter and tears and me yelling about Swann’s Way, but I think it’s worth it.  For the love of the written word and the printed page.  It’s worth it.

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Filed under Love Letter