I’m not sure if I’m fascinated or horrified by this New York Times article -> Tiny Books Fit in One Hand. Will They Change the Way We Read?
On one hand, I love that books are changing, adapting to new ways that readers are interacting with words. Innovation is exciting in that regard. I’m always interested in exploring literary worlds in new formats and I think this one is interesting. But. Yes, a but.
I’m torn. I want to embrace this new tiny book idea and I’ll probably buy one out of curiosity. BUT the one part of the article I keep coming back to is this:
The tiny editions are the size of a cell phone and no thicker than your thumb, with paper as thin as onion skin. They can be read with one hand — the text flows horizontally, and you can flip the pages upward, like swiping a smartphone.
I read on my phone, I read on an e-reader too. I’m not opposed to that but I don’t want books to be nothing more than a cell phone.
Books are an experience. Books are to be savored. Books become memories. Books and the stories they carry shouldn’t be a simple swipe. But, again, a but. If using innovation as the inspiration, maybe I need to step back and give this new format a go and see how I feel then.
For now, old school. I’ll be reading a heavy 571-page hardcover book this weekend. If my arms get tired, my thoughts on this may change.
It’s been four years, FOUR YEARS, and 12 days if I did the math correctly, since I last posted something here.
I’m not sure why today felt like the day to return, but it did and it is.
I’m keeping expectation low, like buried the bar low, so I can ease back into writing and talking about books without any pressure.
Let’s start simple. Hello. I’m Amy and I’m back to writing about books. Expect bookish things soon.
My unscheduled hiatus lasted longer than anticipated. These things happen.
I thought about taking a permanent break. I decided against it.
Lately, I’ve been composing posts in my head. Obviously, none have made it from the brain wave stage yet.
That will happen. Soon, I hope.
To ease myself back into writing, I’m starting with a new look.
And when I do start again, it will be more than just book reviews.
I need, and crave, change right now.
Let’s see what happens.
This year has been difficult, and by difficult, I mean it has sucked and promises to continue sucking for a very long time. Because I’m not looking to vent about anything that’s happened, or am I looking for pity, (or feeling the need to answer personal questions), let’s just accept that’s where things are right now and move on. OK? Thanks. (I knew I could count on you.)
With life being so uncooperative, my reading suddenly became non-existent. I’m saw words but I wasn’t really reading. I took some time off. I re-grouped. I stared at my bookshelves. I pondered. I scrolled the books on the Nook. I’d start a book. I’d put the book down. It became a pattern. I’m a reader? Why can’t I read?
Eventually, words made sense again. The stories started to take on a soothing quality. I was no longer stressing over reading. I read slow. I savored. I went to my comfort reads: fantasy and Arthurian legend. I discovered a new series. I’m now reading all those graphic novels on my shelf.
I’ve started to acquire books again. I’m looking forward to new releases by a few favorite authors.
In the next days and weeks, I might even feel like talking about books again.
You may, or may not, have noticed that I took a bit of a blogging break thanks to life being unexpectedly uncooperative lately. It happens. I’ll be back soon with reviews and updates. For the time being, happy reading.
I put it on my list and then pretty much did nothing about this book until I found it floating around on my Nook one day and decided it was time. Let me tell you, actually, I don’t know how to tell you how amazing this story is. It’s dark, in some ways terrifying, and in others, sort of sweet. The sweet parts are very few and far between and last only a sentence or two but you need them to get you through the darkness of this book. And don’t let my saying this book is dark turn you off; there’s some great reading here.
Liam has never known his father and has no relationship to speak of with his stepfather. His mother, trying to protect him, let’s him believe his father is dead. That doesn’t help matters especially when knowing would be in his favor. Liam’s true father is fey and when the battle between the fey and the fallen gets bloody, Liam is dragged in not knowing, or understanding, what is going on in his life.
Poor Liam. The boy gets picked up and jailed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, is abused in prison, and can’t get a break outside of it. Mary Kate, the love of his life is his only redemption but even that relationship has it’s limitations and problems. Liam’s father, a man not fully human, has passed along several traits to Liam but he’s ill-equipped to deal with any of it because no one’s told him how to. He can’t get out of anything, and is stuck in more ways than one.
While parts of this story are painful, it’s worth the read. Leicht overlays the political tensions of Ireland in the 1970s with a biblical battle of good and evil with the church taking sides and even condoning killing, believing the fallen angels need to be killed. Liam is protected not only by his mother but the local priest as well, Father Murray, who tries his best to help him. It becomes a tale of good and evil but the lines are incredibly blurry.
I said some of the story was dark and it’s not only the fantasy elements that apply. The prison scenes are rough but do add to the story in an impressively emotional way. Would it be easier to read this story without these parts? Yes. Would the story be the same without these parts? No.
And Blue Skies From Pain is the follow up to Of Blood and Honey in the Fey and the Fallen series. It’s on my list.
Of Blood and Honey
By Stina Leicht
Night Shade Books
Scary vs. scary might be a better title…
I have two measurements for scary. One is for things that are scary because they are, or can be, real. The other is for things that are scary, but not really scary because they aren’t real.
Exhibit one, the movie The Silence of the Lambs. It’s scary in that this could be real scary way. As in my neighbor could be that crazy guy who abducts people, keeps them in a hole in the basement, every once in a while yelling down the hole, “It puts the lotion on or gets the hose again.” You know? Not that I think any of my neighbors would be capable of something like that. Come to think of it, I don’t know my neighbors that well. No, they wouldn’t… Would they? Now every time I need to leave my house I’m going to stare out the peephole and make sure no one’s in the hall. Way to go me.
Now, the other scary. Exhibit two, the movie Alien. It’s way more fun on the scary meter because it’s not ever going to happen to me. Not ever. Not that being abducted and thrown in a hole would either. (I live in a condo, there are no basements so I’m thoroughly convinced the first scenario can’t happen. See what I did there.) I’m never going to work for a commercial space towing company. I’m not going to hurl through deep space in a machine induced sleep while a computer named Mother drives. I’m not going to wrestle aliens with acid spit. I’m not. I’m good with that. Really good with that.
Is it weird that I picked movies to illustrate my already weird point? No. I don’t think it is.
I’m pretty sure some of you out there are going to have good examples, so tell me you’re scary vs. scary.
Also, I leave you with this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go cover every single mirror on the planet.