What about you? What bookish books did you read in November? What's on your docket for December?

If you've had fun doing this fun, laidback challenge this year, please join me for the 2024 Bookish Books Reading Challenge. I'll make an official post about it sometime in the next couple weeks. 

For those of you who are participating in the 2023 Bookish Books Reading Challenge, here's the Mr. Linky to use for linking up December reviews. If you've not yet signed up for the challenge, what are you waiting for? Join us in this low-key challenge that celebrates a genre we all love: books about books. It will be fun, I promise! (Note: I copy and paste this paragraph into these posts every month, but you CAN still join the challenge even though the year is almost over. Just link up your reviews of bookish books. Easy peasy.)

 

It's been awhile since I participated in Top Ten Tuesday, my favorite bookish meme.  The last few topics haven't really piqued my interest, but I love the one for this week:  Top Ten Finished Series I Have Yet to Finish.  Although I could seriously list about a million answers, I'll try to restrain myself and keep it to just ten :)

If you want to play along, head over to The Broke and the Bookish.  Read the rules, make your Top Ten list, share it with the rest of us, then visit other blogs to see lots of fun answers to the question du jour.  Simple.  It's an enjoyable little diversion that will put a smile on your face while introducing you to tons of great book blogs.  What's not to love?

Here we go with my list.  In no particular order, here are the Top Ten Finished Series I Have Yet to Finish: 


1.  Matched by Ally Condie—I enjoyed the first book in this series, but never moved on to the second.  Not sure why.  At this point, I'd probably have to re-read Matched before picking up the next installment.  One of these days ...


2.  Bloody Jack by L.A. Meyer—This is a series that was already wrapping up when the author died in 2014.  Still, the thought of no additional Jacky Faber stories makes my heart sad.  She's such a lively, vivid character that I can't imagine not having her in my reading life.  Perhaps that's why I'm stalling instead of finishing up the series?  Probably.  I've read five of the twelve Bloody Jack novels, so I've still got a lot of ground to cover with this one.


3.  Outlander by Diana Gabaldon—I was totally absorbed by Outlander, but again, I never picked up another book in the series.  Why not?  Who knows?  I need to since I believe it's now complete?



4.  The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis—The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe stands out in my mind as one of those reads that just swept me away as a child.  As much as I loved the book, I don't think I kept on with the series.  My memory ain't what it used to be, that's true, but I'm pretty sure I've never read the rest of the Narnia books.  I need to remedy that, for sure.


5.  Divergent by Veronica Roth—Again, I enjoyed the first book, but didn't progress beyond the series debut.  I've heard not great things about Insurgent, thus my hesitation ...


6.  The Gallagher Girls by Ally Carter—These books are so dang fun.  I love them!  And yet, I've only finished two of the six books in the series.  They're easy, entertaining reads, so it wouldn't be tough (in fact, it would be quite enjoyable) to binge-read the rest of them.


7.  Virgin River by Robyn Carr—When it comes to creating small, cozy towns that teem with so much life and warmth that I want to move in right away, there is simply no one like Robyn Carr.  I adored her Grace Falls series.  Her newer ones, Virgin River and Thunder Point, are just as engaging.  While the latter continues, I believe the former is complete.  I've read 6/20 V.R. books and am always excited to open another one and get back "home" to Virgin River.


8.  The Madman's Daughter by Megan Shepherd—I've read 2/3 of this series in 2015.  I'm hoping to finish it this year as well.


9.  The Books of Bayern by Shannon Hale—I'm halfway through this enjoyable series, but it's been a loooonnnngggg time since I read the first two books (2008 and 2009, respectively).  I'll have to re-read them before grabbing the final two.


10.  Incarceron by Catherine Fisher—A two-book series should be a cinch to complete, and yet, I'm still only halfway through this one.  I proclaimed Incarceron one of my favorite books of 2010.  For some reason, though, I never read Sapphique.  It's gathering dust on my shelf—methinks it's high-time to re-experience Incarceron and finally get to its sequel.

There you have it, ten of the many, many, many series I've started and never finished.  So, where should I start?  Which series are your favorite?  Which have you left incomplete?  Why?  Inquiring minds (mine, anyway) really want to know ... I love visiting book blogs, so leave me a comment and I'll gladly return the favor.

Happy TTT!

(This letter was written in response to a post on Shannon Hale's blog about book blogging. Check it out, then come on back and tell me what you think of my brilliant comments. Hee hee.)

Dear Shannon,

May I call you Shannon? I know we've never met, but I've read two of your books and I peek at your blog occasionally, so I feel as if we know each other already. Practically BFFs, you know? Okay, if you really want to see me gush, go here and here. See what I mean? I'm a fan. Anyway, since we're such pals, I'm not embarrassed to ask why you, an author who has been praised to high heaven all over the blogosphere, feel the need to shake things up by questioning time-honored book blogging practices. It's the tiniest bit ... insulting. You're a very nice lady, so I'm sure you don't mean it that way. I know you're only trying start a discussion. A conversation. Between friends. So, since you asked, I'm going to give you my opinion (us being so close and all).

I'm going to start with the last question first: What do you feel is your role as a reviewer?

Easy - it's to tell the truth. When I'm buying a book, or any product really, I don't necessarily trust the publisher/manufacturer's descriptions. Since its only aim is to sell the product, publishers will spin a book's flaws any way it wants. Thus, a sex-heavy tome becomes "provocative" instead of just vulgar; a plodding storyline's sold as "gently flowing;" a cookie-cutter action book's marketed as "in the tradition of James Patterson" instead of as the uninventive copycat it really is. Think about it - who do you trust more? The publisher, who promises "Thrilling!" "Luminous!" "Captivating!" or your neighbor, who cuts the crap and tells it like it is: "I was asleep by the second page," or "It's just like every other vampire book out there" or "Yes, it really is as good as everyone says it is." I'll choose my neighbor every time. Because I know my neighbor, I know her tastes, her prejudices, so I take her opinions with a grain of salt, but still ... I'm much more likely to pick up a book recommended by an unbiased friend than by a money-hungry publisher.

So, what's my role? I'm your neighbor. I'm the one who's going to tell you whether a book's really worth your time. Because you know I'm a prudish Mormon, you know I don't like novels with excessive profanity or sex; because I'm politically conservative, you know books about certain issues anger me; because you know that cozy mysteries aren't really my thing, you realize I'm not necessarily going to give your favorite cozy writer high marks. Considering all of this, you read my review, think about it, and buy the book if you think it's something you will like - whether I've praised it or slammed it. I'm not going to lie. I'm your neighbor - I'm going to tell it like it is. After all, that's why you like me so much :)

Now, because I'm not only a reviewer, but also a passionate booklover, I feel that part of my role includes promoting the art of reading. I recommend compelling books, I champion exciting new authors, I invite discussion about plot, characters, themes, etc. Books are my passion, my obsession, and my greatest desire is to share that with the world.

Lastly, I think my role as a reviewer is the same as any writer's - to engage my intended audience. I hate a stuffy book review as much as anyone. If I wanted to read dry, endless diatribes on plot construction, symbolism, and thematic development, I'd pull out my old English papers (not that I have them hanging around or anything). Instead, I write the type of reviews I'd like to read, which isn't to say that I don't occasionally get long-winded. Still, my goal is always to keep a reader's attention until I can make my point.

You asked: Do you find that the anticipation of reviewing the book has changed your reading experience?

I do, actually. Knowing I'm going to be reviewing a book makes me read it more actively. I consciously watch for phrases that speak to me, characters that appeal, and plots that suck me in. I examine how a writer accomplishes these feats. If a book has the opposite effect on me, I look for reasons why - has the author resorted to stereotypes instead of unique characters? Has he settled for re-telling a familiar story in a way that's only slightly his own? Or is it simply poor editing that's driving me nuts? It makes me do more than just decide if I like a book or not - it forces me to examine why. Because of this, I can no longer read a book without a notebook and pen handy. Sometimes this makes me sad, but mostly I think it makes me a better, more active reader.

You query: Are you rating the book even as you read? Or do you wait until the end to sum it all up?

I'm your neighbor, remember, so I'm not going to lie: I usually have a "grade" in my head by the time I reach a book's second chapter. By that time I can tell whether a book engages me or not, whether I care about the characters or not, and whether it deserves a general A B C D or F grade. Still, I would never determine a final grade without reading a book through to the end. Sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised. Sometimes I'm not. But just like a teacher wouldn't grade an essay based solely on the first paragraph, I won't judge a book until I have a complete picture of its merits and flaws.

Your inquiring mind wants to know: Does knowing you'll be reviewing it (or rating it) publicly affect which books you pick up in the first place?

Yes and no. If I'm reading purely for pleasure, I experience no guilt over putting down a book I don't care for. If I don't like it, I won't finish it and therefore, won't review it. However, I read lots of books at the request of authors, publishers and publicists. Because I don't get off on hurting people's feelings or dissing authors simply for my own pleasure, and because I don't want to waste my own time, I try to choose books I think I will enjoy. If, for instance, I know a certain author pens profanity-filled novels about violent crimes, I'll probably deny his request for a review. If I find that I can't evaulate a review book fairly, I always let the author/publisher/publicist know. My aim is never to vilify an author, but I will always be honest. If a book sucks, I'm going to let people know.

Critiquing books on the Internet, I think, is a lot different from doing so in a newspaper or magazine. The Web allows authors and their fans to snap right back at reviewers who snipe and harp. Because of this, I think book bloggers are more gentle, more thoughtful, and more careful about what they write. Does it influece me when I know an author's going to be reading what I write about his/her book? Yes and no, but that's a discussion for another day ... (Give me a call, BFF, we'll dish.)

You ask: Does the process of writing the review itself change how you felt about the book?

Occasionally, but not often. In general, I have my review written in my head before I sit down at the computer. Sometimes, as I'm hammering out my ideas on the keyboard, I come to new understandings and conclusions, but that doesn't happen very often.

The thing that can change my view on a book is the discussions that grow out of my reviews. For instance, when I reviewed Kay Lynn Mangum's YA novel about a girl dealing with her brother's alcoholism, I criticized it for wrapping up too neatly, because my family's experience with the same issue was markedly different. When Kay Lynn explained that she based the character on the real-life experience of someone she knew, I realized that maybe my own experience wasn't the only one that was "real." Readers bring their own baggage, their own religion, politics, morals and life experience, to each book they read. It absolutely affects how they judge a book - like I said in a recent post, the best I can do is acknowledge those prejudices, be open to others' views, and re-evaluate a book if necessary. That's what's so wonderful about book discussion.

You query: What is your motivation to assign a rating to a book and declare it to the world?

I started "grading" books only recently. Why? For two reasons: to clarify my thoughts in my own mind and to make my opinions crystal clear to my readers. Like lots of book lovers, I read hundreds of reviews a week on blogs and websites, as well as in newspapers, magazines and trade publications. How many of them do I read word-for-word? Very few. Mostly, I skim to get to the pertinent information - Is this book worth my time? Will it entertain/teach/move/excite me? If I have to slog through a long, dull, overly-analytical discussion that ends with, "Well, I kind of liked this book. I mean, the characters were boring, the plot was sort of exciting, but pretty far-fetched, and my 4th grade daughter could have written more colorful dialogue. On the other hand, that one part kind of made up for the sappy ending, but I don't know if it's really for everyone ..." then I'm not going to be very happy. So, again, I try to give my readers the kind of review I would want to read. I don't mind analysis, but I want it to be clear, interesting, and end with a rock-solid opinion. Ambivalent about the book? It happens. Just say so and get on with it. For those who do enjoy stuffy, long-winded analyses, I've got some English papers for you ...

In general, a reader wants to know one thing: Will I like this book? So, I cut the wimpy, wishy-washy crap and tell it like it is. My readers appreciate my honesty. I also understand that my audience may not have time to read through my occasionally wordy reviews, so I boil my opinion down to a letter grade. If pressed for time, readers can scroll to the bottom of my post and easily find my "at-a-glance" conclusion.

A grade is always subjective. Readers are smart - they know that. I can't count the number of times people have said, "I know you gave this book a D, but it sounds like something I might like" or "How could you give that novel an A? It's the dullest, most appalling piece of tripe I've ever had the misfortune of reading." My grade = my opinion. Everyone understands that.

You say: So, I wonder if book evaluation is trumping self-evaluation. I wonder if we get so caught up in gushing or bashing, shining up those stars or taking them away, that the reading experience is weighed too heavily on the side of the book itself and not enough on the reader. After all, reader is more important than book. Reader is the one who changes from reading, not the book. Reader is the one who lives the magic of storytelling.

First of all, the magic has to be there in order for a reader to live it. I don't care how classic a book is, if I'm yawning through the first chapter, I'm unlikely to enjoy it. Does the fact that I'm bored with a text have to do with me as the reader or you as the author? An interesting question. I blame you. No, not really. Well, at least not totally. I think the author's responsibility is to provide solid entertainment, which doesn't mean an action-packed plot or over-the-top characters or heart-pounding cliffhangers. It means telling a story in a way that is engaging. Because I'm paying for this entertainment in cash and hours, I expect it to be worth my time. So, I better get some interesting characters, a compelling plot and a story that twists my heart in some way. As a reader, my job is to be open - intellectually as well as emotionally - to the experience. As a reviewer, however, my task is to evaluate whether or not a writer has done his/her job. That's book evaluation. It's based on things like logic and mechanics - Does the plot make sense? Would this type of character really talk that way, act that way, make that kind of decision? Would stricter editing have made the text more powerful? Of course, reviewers are also readers, so the emotional connection comes into play, maybe more than it should. I don't care how well-edited a book is, if it doesn't move me emotionally, I'm not going to recommend it. Truly and honestly, though, I don't think readers care how well-written a book is, they only care if it's going to speak to them. If I want an opinion on how well a book is structured or what kind of symbolism is being used, I'll ask an English professor; if I want to know if it's going to touch my heart, I'll ask a book blogger.

I know that doesn't really answer the question, so here's my opinion in a nutshell: The bulk of the responsibility lies with the author. Readers are paying for your books in hard-earned money and precious hours. Your job is to make those sacrifices worth it. Book reviewers are here to advocate for readers, to stop them from paying for shoddy work, and to encourage them to expend their energies where they will be most fruitful. Are we biased? Do we judge books based on emotion stemming from our own prejudices, politics, morals and experience? Do we sometimes get too carried away in our criticism? Absolutely. Do we need to 'fess up when our bias precludes fair judgment? Definitely. Authors should extend the same courtesy - I've had writers tell me, "You're right, I published that sappy story because I knew it would be an easy sell" or "I realize my first book lacks authenticity. It took me awhile to find my voice." A writer's honesty only makes me respect them more.

All in all, book bloggers are a responsible lot - we try our best to be honest, to give authors the benefit of the doubt, and to extol the virtues of the books we love. We often don't get the credit we deserve, but we keep on truckin' anyway. We love our books, we love the people who write them, and we love having a voice. Ask most bloggers why they write and the answer will be because expressing an opinion starts a conversation. Sometimes the talk is calm, sometimes it's angry, sometimes it's unfair, but it's a discussion none of us would be having if it wasn't for this crazy old blogosphere. The beauty of it for an author is that you can talk back to the critics - and they'll only love you more for it.

You insist: I'm very curious about all this and hope you feel free to speak freely (and kindly and respectfully, of course) even if you disagree with me.

Just by bringing up this subject, you've shown that you care. I didn't think it was possible for book bloggers to love you more than they already do, but I have a feeling your popularity around here is about to skyrocket. Just remember who you're real BFF is, you hear?

Sincerely,

Susan

So many reviewers rave about Shannon Hale; after reading two of her novels, I can certainly see why. I loved The Goose Girl for its gentle, poetic telling and its endearing characters. It also had an innocence to it that left me thoroughly charmed. Its sequel, Enna Burning, thrills for the same reasons - lush language and an enjoyable cast - but it's not nearly as innocent as its predecessor. In fact, it's a little dark. And almost ... erotic. Okay, I'm blushing now, but I don't know how else to explain it - this book is passionate, intense and absorbing.

Not surprisingly (given the title), Enna Burning focuses on Enna, Isi's friend from The Goose Girl. After her escapades in the city, Enna has retired to the forest, where she tends house in the place of her dead mother. Although she's glad to care for her brother Leifer, she misses the excitement of the city. Unbeknownst to her, more excitement than she ever dreamed of is about to waltz right through her front door.

When Leifer comes home one night, clutching an old piece of vellum, Enna senses that he has changed. Indeed, the fabric holds the key to fire-speaking, a gift which allows one to command fire. Having witnessed Isi's gifts with wind and animals, Enna is no stranger to such skills, but Leifer's sudden abilities scare her. The fire seems to burn within him so fiercely that he's not exactly himself. When war breaks out in Bayern, Enna witnesses Leifer's powerful skill, a scene that brings about great tragedy. Still, she wants the fire-power for her own. When she can no longer resist the vellum's lure, she devours its secrets. As it burns inside her, she comes alive with a passion she's never before known. The fire takes over - she can barely resist the excitement, the release, the thrill that the blazes bring.

Enna's greatest desire is to carry on Leifer's legacy by aiding the war effort. Knowing she will never be accepted as a soldier, she begins launching secret attacks on the enemy. When she loses control and sets fire to a human being - something she swore to herself she would never do - she realizes she needs help. To her rescue come two loyal forest boys - Razo and Finn. Together, the threesome scour the countryside, setting enemy camps and arms alight. It's not long, though, before Enna sees fear in her friends' eyes - her all-consuming power scares them.

It scares the Tiran as well, so much so that they would do anything to use it in their fight against Bayern. They capture Enna, drug her, and threaten her with death if she will not spill her secrets. As she lays in a stupor, only one shows her kindness - the handsome Sileph. As the days pass and the two grow closer, he urges Enna to teach her the fire-power. Only then, he promises, can she be free. Weary from captivity, Enna must decide - help the Tiran and save herself or rescue her people? She can't forget the fright in the eyes of her friends - do they even want such a monster living among them? Sileph offers her everything - power, acceptance, love - more than any poor forest boy could. She has to make a decision, even as the fire blazes inside her, distracting her with its seductive flame. What can she do? How can she save her friends, herself, before the fire burns her alive?

Enna Burning, as you can see, gives readers plenty of dizzying action. The characters - most of whom we know from The Goose Girl - continue to delight. Hale's writing has a fairy-tale quality that makes her words charming and readable. Together, these elements make for a fast-paced adventure story that is absorbing all on its own. However, it's the whole fire thing that gives Enna Burning that extra somethin' somethin'. I spent the entire novel trying to figure out the metaphor - Is Hale telling us to bridle our passions? That if we step too close to the fire, we're bound to get burned? - then wondering if I was reading way too much into the text. I love this kind of multi-layered story that not only makes me feel, but also makes me think. I adore The Goose Girl for its innocence; I love Enna Burning for its depth. Just what will the great Shannon Hale do next? I can't wait to read River of Secrets and find out.

Grade: A

Once upon a time in the faraway land of Kildenree (in a book called The Goose Girl by beloved storyteller Shannon Hale) there lived a girl named Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee. As you can tell by her complicated name, Ani was no ordinary girl - she was a princess who dwelt in a beautiful palace. Now, just because a child's birth designates her royalty, it doesn't mean that's what she really wants. Ani was one princess who didn't care to sit around embroidering and learning manners. She longed to be out in the sunshine; in fact, she felt happiest when she was in the fields and forests communing with the animals of her kingdom. When Ani discovered she could learn the languages of her animal friends, she was delighted. Sharing her secret, however, led to trouble. The palace residents viewed her skill as odd, unnatural. Fearing her daughter's otherness would make her an unsuitable wife and ruler, her mother, the cold-hearted queen, forbade her from visiting any "friends" of the non-human variety.

The years passed, but Ani still didn't find princess-ly tasks to her liking. She grew especially morose when she learned of her impending marriage to a prince in the distant land of Bayern. Not only was her mother using her as a political pawn, but also she would be leaving her homeland to wed a complete stranger. With little choice in the matter, Ani set out on the 6-month journey that would take her to her new home. A princess could not travel alone, of course, so she was accompanied by a party of guards; her faithful horse Falada; Selia, her lady-in-waiting and only real friend; and a handkerchief dotted with her mother's blood. Ani believed the token from her mother would protect her from anything her servants could not. But, she was wrong. When she lost the handkerchief, Ani had to face the fact that magic could not save her from the coup her servants mounted. Terrified, she fled into the forest, where she hid from her enemies.

Lost in the woods, Ani was forced to rely on the help of strangers. Eventually, she made her way to Bayern, with the intention of stomping straightaway to the king. So intent was she on telling the king her friend's sordid plot (for it was evident that Selia planned to have Ani killed so that she could assume Ani's identity, marry the prince, and rule Bayern) that she failed to realize how ridiculous her story would sound. She had no witnesses, no one who could prove who she really was. So, instead, Ani petitioned the king for a job. Although she wanted to work in the royal stables (where her precious Falada was being held), the king assigned her to tend his geese. Of course, Ani was uniquely skilled for the position, and soon had the geese minding her like well-mannered children.

Ani had never lived among commoners, but her work led her to a community of friends who accepted her as one of their own. Believing she came from the Forest, like them, they confided in her, listened to her stories, and shared with her their woes about being outcasts in the city. Over time she almost forgot that she hadn't been reared in the Forest. Even when she met a palace guard who treated her like a lady despite her lowly appearance, Ani still knew she was nothing but a goose girl.

Now, although Ani carefully disguised herself by wearing a hat to cover her "yellow" hair and darkening her light eyebrows, it was inevitable that someone would discover the truth. Conrad, the goose boy, had grown green with jealousy over Ani's way with the animals. When he saw her shaking out her hair - of a color unknown in Bayern - he realized she was not who she said she was. With Bayern on the brink of war with Kildenree (another one of Selia's plots), Ani knew she had to confess the truth to Conrad and her new friends. Would they believe her? Would they help her convince the king to stop the marriage between Selia and the prince, avert a bloody war, and save Kildenree? Or would they think it was just another one of her entertaining stories?

Every story has a moral, and ours is no exception. In The Goose Girl, Ani learns that although magic exists in her world, her real power comes from within. As a princess, she embraced the values of her mother - "separation, elevation, delegation" (25) - as a humble commoner, she finds her passion, her people, and her true self. She discovers that those who stand for truth and justice will always triumph in the end (it is a fairy tale, after all).

There's only one problem with this magical tale - like all stories, it had to end. Fear not, tho', there are sequels. Will Ani find her happily ever after? We'll just have to see what the talented Miss Hale has in store for the goose girl who would be queen ...

Grade: A