May's Progress Report

Another year is done. Another group of seniors have graduated and become freshmen again. My break is over. It was a slow reading month, but looking at the list below, it was not without headway. It's strange that I consider a month where I've only completed five books a slow month when there is a significant percentage of American adults who do not even read one in a year.

Next year, I think I'll try to stockpile about 20 posts so that I don't get run into a gap during the worst of it.

Moving forward: I had been planning a month of nonfiction for June and a free for all month for July. I think I'm going to go ahead and have my free for all month in June. I have a lot of books lying around that I'd like to get to and they don't fit into an easy theme.

More later. I'm back.

1. The Wrath and the Dawn by Renee Ahdien
2. The Heart Goes Last by Margaret Atwood
3. Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard
4. My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry by Fredrik Backman
5. Trail of Broken Wings by Sejal Badani
6. Serafina and the Black Cloak by Robert Beatty
7. The Residence: Inside the Private World of the White House by Kate Andersen Brower
8. The Fold by Peter Clines
9. The Stranger by Harlan Coben
10. Marrow by Tarryn Fisher
11. Trigger Warning by Neil Gaiman
12. Alice by Christina Henry
13. Signs Preceding the End of the World by Yuri Herrera
14. Beacon 23: The Complete Novel by Hugh Howey
15. Fish in a Tree by Lynda Mullaly Hunt
16. The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro
17. Finders Keepers by Stephen King
18. Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
19. A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas
20. When Books Went to War by Molly Manning
21. Forensics: WHat Bugs, Burns, Prints, DNA, and More Tell Us About Crime by Val McDermid
22. Secrets of a Charmed Life by Susan Meissner
23. Slade House by David Mitchell
24. The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery
25. Rebel Queen by Michelle Moran
26. Dumplin by Julie Murphy
27. All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven
28. Uprooted by Naomi Novik
29. Carry On by Rainbow Rowell
30. The Witches: Salem, 1692 by Stacy Schiff
31. A Darker Shade of Magic by V.D. Schwab
32. The Marvels by Brian Selznick
33. The Architects Apprentice by Elif Shafak
34. The Cartel by Don Winslow
35. Made You Up by Francesca Zappia

Professional (Some of these are older than 2014)
     36.. Classroom Strategies for Interactive Learning by Doug Buehl
     37. "You Gotta Be the Book" by Jeffrey D. Wilhelm
     38. I Read it, But I Don't Get It by Cris Tovani
     39. In the Middle by Nancie Atwell
     40. Mosaic of Thought by Keene and Zimmermann
     41. Reading Diagnosis for Teachers by Barr et. al
     42. Strategies That Work by Harvey and Goudvis
     43. Building Reading Comprehension Habits in Grades 6-12 by Zwiers
     44. A Handbook for Classroom Instruction that Works by Marzano et al
     45. On Caring by Milton Mayeroff
     46. Write Like This by Kelly Gallagher

Meeting Sherman Alexie

Apparently, I am the antithesis of the fan-girl. I don't know why, but I really don't get into meeting famous people. They are just people. Sometimes they are people who've achieved amazing things, but still just people with both virtues and flaws. Standing in a line with a bunch of squealing fan-girls just to shake hands with a exhausted celeb who probably just wants to go home doesn't appeal. Not usually anyway.

I found out yesterday that Sherman Alexie was doing a signing for his new book Thunder Boy Jr. last night at the Decatur Library. Sherman Alexie I wanted to meet. So with no real warning, I flipped everything around so that I could go. I wouldn't have called myself giddy, but excited sounds about right.

Ryan was amused. Ryan was very amused.

So here's the thing to understand. Cult of the celebrity aside, sometimes people do something or make something that change the lives of others. In Sherman Alexie's case, his books, poetry, and film ("Smoke Signals") combined to produce a tangible difference in the way I view the world. Because I saw "Smoke Signals" (I was 18) I connected to idea of "truth" being different from "fact," and that the story teller's job is expressing truth. It doesn't sound like much, but it was a full-on choir of angels revelation for me. So I started reading Alexie's books. Because of his books, I learned to read novels for more than just story, I learned that not all experience is universal and that culture really matters, and I learned that poetry and prose are not mutually exclusive processes.

Later on, Alexie's book War Dances was part of my decision to leave libraries and become a teacher.

Clearly, Alexie, as an author, is immensely important to me. If only I didn't have this dratted shyness.

The book talk was a book talk. Alexie is a funny, personable guy. He's humble, he's earnest, and he's down-to-earth about his fame and the importance of his literary work. His new children's book struck a chord with me, because of what it had to say about the importance of names and identity for children.

In the Q&A he talked a lot about his experiences with being a "brown" author. While clearly it matters, and it matters to him, he seemed to shy away from making the importance of his work be about the label. He touched on some frustration with over-analysis of symbols. Mostly, he just talked about his experience and cracked jokes.

Later on, while I was waiting in line to get my books signed, I thought about all the things I'd like to say to him about how important his work was to me. I knew I probably wouldn't have time; there were a lot of people there. However, I wanted to say something. Thomas was in a good mood so, it didn't feel like I needed to rush anything. However, when we got to Alexie's table, Thomas made a toddler b-line for the door and Ryan went chasing after him. So, Alexie and I talked about Thomas and toddlers. I got oddly tongue-tied about shifting the conversation.

Ryan and Thomas got back. Alexie posed for a picture with me, and we left. I didn't get to say what was bouncing in my head. But that's ok, it's enough just to have met him and to shake his hand.

It was a good night.

Hiatus

Ok guys. I've had a rough couple weeks culminating in a blow up. I'm mulling over a lot of things and I'm pretty unhappy at the moment. 

I'm going to hit the pause button on the blog until the end of school in a couple of weeks, at least. Spaces like this are just too easily become an echo chamber for venting. 

So for those precious few of you who actually read this....check back in June.

Sorry

Slade House by David Mitchell

I am officially in a slump. Not because of Slade House but because I'm having such a hard time writing. Figured it was time to pull up my big girl pants, stop feeling sorry for myself, and write. . . something. Anything really.

My kids think I don't get it. I do, I really do get what it's like to just be blocked. So I'm sorry, I have to break the block and I make no claims to the quality.

Weeks like last week really make me examine the quality of the lit I'm reading. I'm not really criticizing all the YA smaltz, anything that gets a kid to read has value. However, there is a sharp difference between entertainment and literature. Functionally, entertainment I can blow through at an extreme rate. Literature, I have to slow down and analyze as I read. Both of the things I picked up to read last week fall in the literature category.

Slade House is by the same author who wrote Cloud Atlas which was a finalist for the Booker Prize and later was made into a movie. Both books left me feeling disoriented and fuzzy. As uncomfortable as that feels, I've begun to associate that feeling with good literature.

Slade House is a kind of literary fantasy. The house is the home of "soul-sucking vampires" who consume soul energy to continue their lives. Each chapter details the experience of a potential victim. It took me a while to get hooked, but once I did, I had a hard time putting it down.

It's a great book.

I might have to revisit this when I've had a little more time to digest.

I *Heart* Libraries

There is something special about libraries. I might be biased; I used to be a librarian after all. Walking into a library, even a speciality library in an area I don't read, is like stepping into a warm blanket. They just smell good too.

There is something wonderful about people who work in libraries too. (Again, I'm probably partial) These are people whose lives are devoted to the printed page and cultivating that love in others. As an English teacher, I feel very much like we are in related fields. I viewed my move from Librarian to English teacher, in fact, as more of a lateral shift. I still work with and around books, I just work more closely with fewer people.

It's a tragedy of the modern era that people don't use local public libraries enough. I have tons of students who claim they don't read because they can't afford the books. It's like a revelation to them when I point out that with a little planning, a library is a source of free books to read. Of course, in the age of immediate gratification, that "little planning" is the major hurdle.

This is why I'm trying to put together a program next year to get kids over to the local Library to the school. The closest library to the school actually has a youth librarian, which is super cool. I'm hoping if I can make it easier to get the kids to the library, then they'll actually learn how awsome they are.  Lot's of moving parts though.

Wish me luck on that.

Book Cave

This has been an exhausting week already. I love my job, I love my family, and I love my son, but what I really want is one of these:

Gosh do I just want to curl up in solitude for a day.

Maybe two.

Biggest Disappointment

I've had a pretty full life, all things considered. All full of ups and downs. There are very few things I feel worthy of getting melodramatic on. This though. This is big. This is one of those things that when it happens I want to just stop the day, hit rewind, and stay in bed. It's that bad.

ok, ready?

So, ever really look forward to reading a book? The cover looks cool, never heard of it before, but like the author. Totally psyched? I finally get ahold of it. Open it up. Read the first chapter.

And

Realize it's a sequel and I haven't read the first book.

GRAWR. Worst. Day. Ever. I really can't think of anything more disappointing.

Why Stephen King? Why?

You're laughing at me, aren't you?