Dreaming of Hoarding October 7, 2009

ALL THESE.

All the Sookie Stackhouse novels by Charlaine Harris.

brain candy 1

brain candy 2

I know I know, seven of these books are the same (the first collection has seven, the second eight), but I just had to post as many pictures as I can so I won’t be able to refuse myself. We are all visual creatures after all. And books are like chocolate candies to me. I read (eat) them very slowly and I like watching them on my shelf (in the fridge).  No rush, no impatient consummation whatsoever where eating or reading is concerned, but first I just have to possess them.

Yes. Off to the bookstore the soonest possible time.

Currently Reading September 18, 2009

Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen

Petra Means Rock September 8, 2009

I began reading the story of Petra Nemcova, a Czech supermodel, today. The book, titled Love Always, Petra,  is one of the hardcovers which I got on bargain at the National Bookstore, chronicling Petra Nemcova’s journey from her early years in communist Czechoslovakia to the glamorous world of modelling in her teen years. The book is an autobiographical account which includes her near-death experience in the 2004 tsunami of Thailand, and how she lost the love of her life during the tragedy. I’m still a few chapters shy of finshing Mansfield Park, and although I’m all excitement reading about Mr. Crawford’s proposal to Fanny Price, curiosity got the better of me and I just had to read just a bit about Petra’s story. I never thought that I’d be hooked. So I’m putting Austen on hold for now, though I’m pretty sure not for very long.

Today I got holed up in my favorite cafe again, which has become some sort of secret place for me. I was meeting with a friend there, before heading off to the jogging tracks for a one-hour run, and then dinner someplace else. Because I wanted some alone time again and because I wanted to read Petra’s story in peace, I came a few minutes earlier, ordered a fruit smoothie, and got buried in the story not long after. My friend came a bit late complaining of the traffic, but I did not mind at all. Of course I was happy to see her, after a few months of not catching up, and it was all girls’  chitchat and laughter from then on.

But now I’m back to reading Petra’s story, and I admire the girl’s reslience, faith, and strength.  We all seem to have the silly idea that most super models are shallow creatures. Petra however is something else. I had sensed this, even before finishing her story.

Bibliophile on a Budget September 6, 2009

It’s 12:36 am but I can’t sleep. So I was fiddling with the PC and decided to make a blog post.

Well, this post is specifically about my recent book shopping binges. I have recently discovered the hidden treasures of the BOOK SALE bookstores, and for the past months or so I was able to find really good titles at bargain prices. I got an Ian McEwan book, one from Anita Shreve, the Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller, Waiting by Ha Jin, and War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells.

For the entire month of August National Bookstore was also on sale, and I was able to find hardcover copies of practically new books at a measly price of P49.50 each. I think I bought a total of five books, and if not for my varied interests (cheap dresses, baking stuff, sewing stuff, paint brushes and linseed oil for experimental painting, jewelry) and a growing list of expenses, I might have bought more.

ah, happiness!

Well, I should’nt be too greedy – I still need to finish Mansfield Park by Jane Austen and Umberto Eco’s The Island of the Day Before, before year end.  And a total of four books from the bookstore sales still sit in my bookshelf unread, which means I need to do less Facebooking, less window shopping, and more reading.

I can’t wait to finish devouring all my new books, so I will have a good excuse for a bigger  purchase next time I hit the bookstores. A few titles in my wish list include Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris, Coraline by Neil Gaiman, and Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell (yes, that classic which was adapted into a romance film in 1939).

In the meantime, more reading.

Ditto, Mr. King, Stephenie Meyer Can’t Write February 4, 2009

Stephenie Meyer will either shrug this off or bawl her eyes over for a fortnight, but Stephen King, the prolific science fiction writer, thinks Ms. Meyer can’t write. According to King, Meyer is a far cry from J.K. Rowling, saying that “Meyer can’t write worth a darn. She’s not very good.”

I think what Mr. King is saying is this: “Ms. Stephenie Meyer’s writing style is forgettable, stale, and often wearisome. You will treasure this book if : you are a teen, you like ALL love stories, or if you have read nothing else.

Oh, and the movie was worse. Not that I finished it.”

For more on Stephen King’s outspoken statement, click
here.

Contradiction December 20, 2008

After having finished reading Eclipse, the third book in the much-hyped over Twilight saga, I am going to contradict myself. I am no longer a fan of Edward Cullen. My affection is dedicated to Jacob Black, the teenage werewolf who is not afraid to love Bella, even when he knows she is more in love with someone else.

I think in fact that if Edward Cullen were to be matched up against the more sinewy, passionate, and level-headed Jacob Black, this lullaby lovin’ vampire will fade into the background like a pale-skinned fairy. And after reading three novels worth of Edward and Bella’s interminable declarations of immortal love to one another, I am finally feeling constipated. Twilight is excusable, seeing that this book is where the budding romance of two star-crossed lovers are first chronicled for the entire saga. But when this mawkishness is still palpable in the succeeding books, what you get is an overrated sentimentality that is more trite than touching.

I’m still a giggly high school girl at heart, but there is simply nothing real about a couple who are perpetually holding hands and whispering schmaltzy sweet-nothings to one another, ALL THE TIME.

With Chris Weitz at the directorial helm for New Moon- the book in the saga where Jacob Black and the rest of the werewolves first make an appearance, and steal the bigger scene from the nauseous Bella-Edward affair- I can hardly wait for the movie next year. Please, Mr. Weitz, you ought to do better than Hardwicke, just this one time.

Sparkles in the Sun November 13, 2008

I’m finally done with Twilight, and now I’m looking forward to the movie, which airs next week. As much as Meyer’s writing style is certainly not worthy of a Pulitzer, the truth is, I still found myself hooked on the saga. No, I take that back, I’m hooked on Edward Cullen ( okay, non-Twilight fans, you can puke now). I mean, why does he have to be so ideal? Music and symphonies, super human abilities, killer smile, and color-changing eyes- plus the fact that he sparkles like diamonds in broad sunlight, rather than turning to dry ashes? I want to kick myself for going ga-ga over a fictional vampire, but then again, I seldom go ga-ga over anything else these days, so I’m allowing myself the pleasure.

There were a few boring parts in the book and at one point I wanted to pull Bella’s hair for being so clueless and stupid. And at another instance I wished Meyer had developed the character of Bella into a much stronger and level-headed female protagonist ( really, is it that easy deciding to be a vampire herself?) , but when the book starts referring to Edward again, I just swoon in my pillows. I have to give the author some credit for the unexpected surprises in the novel, though. It is a good read, over all, very entertaining and fantasy-inducing.

The trailers on YouTube are good, and Rob Pattinson is excellent as the mysteriously sexy Edward. Hopefully the movie does not disappoint the millions of teenage and twenty-something girls like myself who are lusting after the vampire who sparkles so beautifully in the sun.

Thank You Sis! November 5, 2008

Wish I Owned an Entire Bookstore October 25, 2008

I was at the mall today and finally bought Jane Austen’s Persuasion and Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight. Bookstores are always like sanctuaries to me, and I could lose myself for hours pacing aisle after aisle after aisle of books. There was a sale nook at National Bookstore, but I decided to scrimp on another day. I should have known; after all, I always find it difficult to leave a bookstore empty handed once I’m already inside.

I should not be surprised why most of my book purchases are done on impulse. When I enter a boutique, I can resist buying a new top, a handbag (well, some days), or a pair of shoes. However, every time I venture inside a bookstore, I always find it almost sacrilegious not to buy a book. Everything looks glossy and gleaming and beckoning. This, or the fact that I really am an impulse buyer by nature, and to curb my shopping guilt afterwards, I make it an unconscious point to visit bookstores instead. I mean how can you feel guilty when you have bought something which actually feeds your mind and not your inane vanity?

While I was at the mall earlier, I visited again the kiosk which sells the earrings I have coveted for like, months, and there they were, all pretty and distant. I had to restrain myself of course, seeing that I already shopped at the bookstore, quite unplanned.

Anyway, as I have always wanted to indulge myself in another Austen, I finally bought Persuasion. As for the Meyer book, I have no expectations of it but am counting on the fact that it is a bestseller and that there’s a movie coming to theaters sometime next month. Plus, I have always loved Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, so I’m hoping I’ll love Meyer’s fiction just as much.

As much as I have vowed not to buy any new book unless I finish reading Eco’s Island of the Day Before, I just keep breaking my promise. If I follow my vow religiously, I think an entire year will pass before I read another fiction. I have no idea why but this Eco book is like sleeping pills to me. Seriously.

I think I’ll read Twilight first. Hopefully I’ll be done by the time the movie hits the cinemas. And if I do like the book, nothing will keep me from buying the rest of the three books of the entire saga. Even if it means putting off buying the lovely earrings for a while.

Sorry, Mr. Coelho September 15, 2008

For the past two days, I was reading The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho. I traded books with Shakie, a good friend of mine, last Friday. In exchange for Ian Mc Ewan’s Atonement, I got the Coelho book and Sarah Dunant’s the Birth of Venus. I was first intrigued by Dunant’s novel, but after a while I decided to postpone reading it at a more opportune time. Meanwhile, I picked up Mr. Coellho’s new novel and began reading it on Friday evening.

The first page did not grip me in the same way that the first few words of the Alchemist did. Of course, I should be expecting this, after all, I never really liked the last Coelho book I had read years ago, which was By The River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept. However, I wanted to be fair with the guy- many sources refer to him as the most beloved author of our time. So I trudged along and read more.

However, just a few minutes ago, I finally dropped the book out of sheer boredom and complete frustration. To be honest, the book’s content does not deserve it’s illustrious title- at all. I was expecting to read a well-researched, well-paced story about a witch in the 21st century, and not the soapy tale of an adopted woman who felt herself to be, or whom the author made to be, an authority on so many things.

Clearly, I was not expecting to find rehashed sentences, cliched phrases, and endless references to the mystical and primary emotions, no matter that the novel was merely translated from the Portuguese. Now I understand why Coelho’s critics had bravely accused him of grammatical errors and plagiarism.

There was nothing to look forward to in the book, in fact it had felt like I was reading Wikipedia. Besides, in the beginning of the novel, we already know that the witch, referred to as Sherine or Athena, had died. Witches and Death- could anything be more predictable? Well, there is a twist in the end but I don’t think it can compensate for the blandness that this novel emanates even from the start.

The sentences furthermore, were way too simplistic, as if the audiences would care for nothing beyond the illustrious title and an author who made headlines with the Alchemist. Forgive me Coelho fans, but most of the written phrases in this novel could have easily been written by a high school student.

I know what Mr. Coelho is trying to teach us through his works: that the Divine can be manifested in Nature, that we hold the power in nurturing our dreams, and that we all have Personal Legends. As much as these tenets are inspiring and thought provoking, must he always use these themes for all his works? Of course, all authors tend to veer towards certain themes, but when we read the same sentences, the same thoughts, the same pacing through out all of their works, things could get very nauseous.

Six years ago, I read and loved the Alchemist. Now, I no longer count myself as a Coelho fan. Not until this guy writes another bestseller that’s worthy of the acclaim. And the book’s title.