A Fine Book List

So I read his book list today. He posted a few years ago that it was a long list, of his favorite books, I remember thinking even then, why does that seem so short? Maybe it's the font, or, the fact I don't read non-fiction, as much, so, it's probably flipping huge. So anyways, while I'm on goodreads, and I've liked some books on Facebook, I feel like making a list that would include reasons why they are fantastic.

And now, in no particular order:

1- Veronica. Nicholas Christopher. This book was given to me as a gift one Christmas by a friend. Reading it sort of changed the course of my life. When I give books, I don't always give them just because they are good, I give them because I mean something to be read in the book. I misunderstood. I thought I was being told to chase a dream, but it wasn't all quite just like that. It wasn't as simple as that.

2- The Alchemist. Paulo Coehlo. A book that really is about chasing your destiny, and not giving up just because you hit a hard part. “And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” I have generally found this to be quite true. As well as, “When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.”

3- The Time Traveler's Wife. Audrey Niffenegger "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were coming or I'd have cleaned up a little more. My life, I mean, not just the apartment.” And, “Chaos is more freedom; in fact, total freedom. But no meaning. I want to be free to act, and I also want my actions to mean something.” “The compelling thing about making art - or making anything, I suppose - is the moment when the vaporous, insubstantial idea becomes a solid there, a thing, a substance in a world of substances.” So many beautiful turns of phrase in this book.

4- Life of Pi. Yann Martel. More magical realism. Easily my favorite genre, if because it mixes just enough of what MIGHT be real, with JUST enough magic.

5- Kangaroo Notebook. Kobi Abe. What a deliciously weird magical realism book!

6- One Hundred Years of Solitude. Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Once you stop trying to read it like a story, and more of a history, it becomes understandable. You read a chronicle of events, watching as people are trapped by their history, of who they are, and how some of them try to break free of that.

7- Sputnik Sweetheart. Haruki Murikami. The last twist is such a twist. Murikami never disappoints. Most of his books are a favorite, this is probably my favorite of all. (I'll add the others later.)

8- Revenge. Eleven Dark Tales. Yoko Ogawa. I read this and squealed with glee and horror after ending every chapter. The beauty of this book is that each tale ties into the last, sometimes making you sympathetic, after the fact. So deliciously vengeful.

9- She's Come Undone. Wally Lamb. Great book. One of the first to show me that in the process of breaking free from our patterns, we're actually free. You can't just manifest strength in character- you either have it, or you don't.

10- Alice in Wonderland. Lewis Carroll. What's not to love?

11- The Night Circus. Erin Morgenstern. I totally want to own this book. I can't even remember where I borrowed it from, but it's totally on my MUST OWN list. FANTASTIC book, magical realism, with more magical and less realism. My heart is pounding just to remember it.

12- Daring Greatly. Brene Brown. One of a handful of fantastic non-fiction in my list. I love how she talks about vulnerability, and wholehearted living. I was encouraged to read that I was basically doing the right things, to live a wholehearted life. She also wrote in such a way, that I knew I wasn't "done" with learning, but I did enjoy being validated in that way.

13- Lamb. Christopher Moore. Pretty much anything you pick up by Moore is gonna be fantastic and just irreverent, so this was no exception, but so very loved.

14- Job: A Comedy of Justice. Robert Heinlein. FANTASTIC view of how things might really be. TOTALLY related.

15- Year of the Flood. Margaret Atwood. Sort of a "what happens when you go mucking about with evolution, and things don't always turn out like you think they might" story. See also: Oryx and Crake.

16- Perdido Street Station. China Meilville. This one made my head hurt and swim with color. It was a bit of a difficult read, because he's writing about science, and quantum things and ideas, which seem solid, but not yet here in the world we are in now. Love the rest of the books in this set, this just happened to be the first one I read, and it's the second one in the series. Still stands (mostly) on its own, but leaves you wanting more.

17- Pattern Recognition. William Gibson. Again, one of those writers who's work I've read pretty much all of. Fantastic. Cyberpunk. So much fun to read.

I'll continue on at some point. There's a LOT of favorite books.

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Leaving Francis

I miss my dog. I'd say, she would know what to do, she would be leaning against me, but I also know if she were here, I wouldn't be having this existential dilemma, which is forcing me to stop dicking around, and not doing more art. I'm being given opportunities to do more art, and I feel like I'm squandering time.

I want more props.

I'm so drained. Fred is next to me, she's smaller than Doodles. I miss Patsy on my legs now, after all the times telling her to move over. I'll miss her crawling under the covers, and leaning into me, til il drift off, then she sneaks out, and lays in the floor, or near the foot.


Last Night in Wa

That pretty much sums it up. Suffering from heartburn. I just want the heart pain to stop. Lots of sad tonight. Why does it feel so awful? I mean, I left, but I'm seeing now that he was LONG gone.

Ugh. Dreading being trapped in the car with my thoughts for company for three days.


More Late Night Sadness

I hate this hour. The cat is snoring, and the pervasive feeling of loneliness is smothering. This is infinitely worse than how shit with Jeff went down. So much worse. I definitely feel shittier about it, I definitely feel more used, and more disposed, and dismissed. I hope he has insomnia. I hope he never sleeps again. And I hope she finds out really quick like how not dependable he is. What a joke, all that bullshit about how he was able to be alone, and wanted to be alone. You know, I should have know he was fucking around before we moved in together, because he made all sorts of noise then how he wanted space. Whatever. Now he can bang whoever he wants, string anybody else along. Liiiiiiiiaaaaar.

I'm going to sleep, before I start snapping, and have another nervous breakdown.


Middle of February

Somehow, I've managed to not kill myself yet. Not that I don't think about it. Patsy keeps the thoughts at bay.

Mostly I struggle often with some pretty bleak depression. I don't see the end of this sometimes. But hey, Jeff and my replacement are happy, and that's what really matters, right?
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Because I've not had a "I'm happy" post in like, forever.

I am really, really really, happy. :) I had an amazing night last night, I had an amazing morning, I had an amazing afternoon, and then I had an AMAZING nap. :D
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I just realized I can make icons again.

So, COMING SOON!! New freakin' awesome LJ icons for meself. Whoot!

I might break down and start teaching myself/learning Illustrator. I haven't decided yet. When I started, it was a lil more difficult than I hoped. But then, so was photoshop when I started playing with that.

Eventually I'll figure out how to post pictures to my LJ so you sweets can see what I look like now. Not that I've changed much, but, well, with all my different looks, I probably have. :P
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