Thanks for all of your comments on my post about R-rated books. I've enjoyed reading all the different perspectives out there (even those that make me feel like a sinner). Keep 'em coming!

I just wanted to remind you of the two giveaways I have going right now - you can win copies of both Immortal by Traci L. Slatton and The Questory of Root Karbunkulus by Kamilla Reid. I haven't read the former yet, but you can read my review of the latter here. To be in the running for Immortal, make a comment on this post; for Root Karbunkulus, click here. You may enter both. I will draw the names of the winners on August 9.

Because of vacation and packing for our big move, I'm very behind on my blog reading. I have noticed a few new giveaways, though - if you have something fun going on on your blog, I'd love to know about it!

* Bookfinds is giving away 3 signed copies of Megan Kelley Hall's gothic novel Sisters of Mercy. You can find all the info here.

* Literary Feline and Hachette Books is offering you a chance to win 14 books. No, that's not a typo - 14!! Click here for details. Oh! I just realized today you only have about 54 minutes left to enter. Hurry on over there.

* My friend Jane is hosting another installment of Things That Must Go. Prizes are books this time - yay! Get all the info here.

Gaye over at Inside A Book left me an interesting comment about how much profanity I can tolerate in a book. I began typing a lengthy response, then decided the issue might be better discussed in a post. Plus, since I'm still in the middle of Linda Greenlaw's first mystery novel, I don't have a book to write about, so here goes ...

Most of you know that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (more commonly known as Mormons). Have been all my life. Since I was a child, I've heard the church's admonition to "Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom (D&C 88:118)." When leaders expound on this verse, they usually mention the scriptures, the classics, and other wholesome, uplifting literature. It goes without saying that the "best books" are those that uphold LDS standards of decency - they must have no profanity, sexual innuendo, explicit "love" scenes, vulgarity, or excessive violence. Deseret Book, the LDS Church's publishing company, follows these standards, publishing only books that fit the aforementioned requirements. As a result, LDS bookstores generally offer shelves 3/4 full of scholarly and clean non-fiction. Fiction offerings are few, and usually focus on bygone eras when life was more genteel. Novels set in our century surface more and more, but tread lightly in areas that could be considered offensive to the church's general population. While these books offer spiritually uplifting stories, they often "censor" reality, creating tales that are sappy and unrealistic.

Don't get me wrong - I understand why church leaders encourage us to read only the purest, most inspiring books. They make us feel good. I definitely feel lighter and happier after reading a book like Anne of Green Gables than a darker tale, a la Stephen King. So, I'm not disagreeing with the Church's stance, I'm only saying that it limits what a person can read. Am I trying to justify my less-than-stellar habits? Absolutely.

So, what's a fiction-loving LDS bookworm to do? Deseret Book's meager, but sanctioned offerings pale in comparison to the mountains of murkier titles begging for perusal in libraries and bookstores. Thus, LDS readers have a few options: (1) They can vow to read only "clean" books, thereby keeping their thoughts pure and consciences clear, (2) They can stick to books they know to be in the PG-PG-13 categories, thus feeling only slightly guilty when they come across swearing or questionable scenes, or (3) They can read whatever they want, cringing and feeling tremendous guilt when they digest R-rated behavior. I think most LDS readers fall within the last two categories. In our defense, I believe most of us use "filtering" behaviors (i.e. skipping over swear words or replacing them with more acceptable terms [this is where the famous LDS expression "Oh heck" comes in handy], or flipping past racy sex scenes). The question Gaye asked me is, where do I fall? Are there some things I can tolerate and some things I can't? Where do I draw the line?

I wish I could say that I read only books that are clean and uplifting, but that would be a lie. And Mormons don't lie. At least, they aren't supposed to. I read to learn and to experience things I otherwise wouldn't be able to. Therefore, I don't want my fiction censored. I want to know what it's like to live through war, poverty, scandal and life-threatening danger (all without leaving my comfy couch, of course). I crave authenticity. Still, I don't want to fill my head with trash, so I try to be discerning. A book must offer me substance, some kind of moral or discovered beauty to justify my journey through whatever filth also lies between its pages. Am I occasionally distracted by a substanceless Stephen King horror story? Well, yes, but I try to resist.

If you know any Mormon kids, you probably know they are encouraged not to watch R-rated movies. Ever. It's the same principle as reading only the "best books." A movie like Se7en doesn't exactly produce happy feelings (trust me, I know). Instinctively, we all know this, but no one likes to miss out on the newest book or movie. Countless LDS parents hear their kids whine, "But, it only has a couple bad parts" about the latest hit film. This can be countered easily with a popular LDS "object lesson," in which a teacher (or parent) offers a student (or child) a delicious-looking brownie. When the student/child eagerly reaches for the confection, the teacher/parent frosts it with a layer of their own saliva (or mud, or mucus, or whatever). Obviously, the student/child rejects the ruined treat, to which the teacher/parent replies, "C'mon, it's only got a couple bad parts." Persuasive, no?

The problem for me lies in a movie like Schindler's List. It's full of nudity, violence and haunting images. However, when I watch it, I feel educated, moved and inspired. Although the film carries an R-rating and contains disturbing content, to me, the end justifies the means. Again, I know I'm justifying my actions, but this is how I watch movies and read books. If a movie provides only raunchy humor and vulgar language, I turn it off. If the F-word shows up on every other page of a novel, I close it. My tolerance level may be higher than other Mormon readers, but there's definitely a point at which I can no longer take all the filth that appears in so many current novels.

I know there has been a discussion on Chris's blog about the way Stephenie Meyer (who is LDS) wrote the love scenes in her adult novel, The Host. Several people contend that because the characters do not have sex, the relationships are not very realistic or "adult." In some ways I agree, but I also respect authors who dare to write "clean" books. If more writers did, LDS readers would have an easier time of it. Until then, we have to choose wisely, filtering the books that are worth it from those that aren't, which wouldn't be that difficult if it wasn't for that darn Stephen King ...

This is probably way more information than Gaye or you wanted, but her question made me think. So, I'm turning her question to you as well - Does profanity/vulgarity in books bother you? What can/can't you handle? Do your religious or moral beliefs have any influence on what you do or don't read? I'd love to hear your opinions!

If you've read The Perfect Storm by Sebastian Junger or seen the movie based on it, you should recognize the name Linda Greenlaw. As captain of the Andrea Gail's sister ship, Hannah Boden, she was one of the last people to communicate with the doomed boat's crew. She's also the woman Junger labeled "the best captain, period, on the East Coast." Junger's praise stirred up interest in Greenlaw and her career as the only female swordboat captain in the world. When a publisher approached her for her story, Greenlaw responded by writing The Hungry Ocean.

Since people seem most interested in the day-to-day details of life aboard the Hannah Boden, Greenlaw's book describes "a real, and typical, swordfishing trip, from leaving the dock to returning" (xii). The story begins early in the morning on August 30 (not sure what year) in Gloucester, Massachusetts. When it opens, Greenlaw is breakfasting with her boss, mentally reviewing her checklist for her upcoming fishing trip. Having just brought in the most fish in her career - 56, 000 lbs. - she is eager for a repeat performance, but nervous that something has been forgotten. Will 12, 000 lbs. of bait, $3, 500 worth of groceries, and 20, 000 gallons of diesel fuel be enough to sustain her and her 5-man crew for a voyage that could last upwards of 30 days? What happens if she reaches the Grand Banks, 1, 000 miles from shore, only to discover she's forgotten something critical?

Despite her nerves, Greenlaw and her crew depart as planned, plowing northeast toward the fertile water beyond Grand Banks. As they steam, she describes the men she will be living with for the next month, the intense preparations they all make, and her own relationship with the ocean. Just when tensions are mounting on the boat, the Hannah Boden reaches her destination and the 6 fishermen spring into action. Working day and night, they jockey for choice fishing positions, battle sharks, fight personal battles, and toil to fill the ship's hold with enough fish to ensure a paycheck, however slim.

Greenlaw's writing is as matter-of-fact as I assume her to be. She describes every step of the fishing trip in detail, sometimes too much detail. I admit my eyes glazed over during some of her more technical explanations. Occasionally, she drifts into more poetic territory (especially when describing scenery), but The Hungry Ocean is mostly a frank look at an ordinary swordfishing trip with all its innate drama.

Now, I admit, that doesn't sound too exciting to those of us whose closest interactions with marine life consist of shaking frozen fish sticks out of a Gorton's box. Luckily for us, the real beauty of this book lies not with the animals, but with the humans who hunt them. Greenlaw offers vignettes about fishing life, from superstitions to pranks pulled on newbies to her own tale of "the one that got away." She also shows her crew in all their guts and glory - hardworking, hard-living men with their own faults and prejudices. Although she offers less details about her own life, Greenlaw touches on what it means to be a woman in a male-dominated industry. She insists:

Being a woman hasn't been a big deal. I never anticipated problems stemming from being female, and never encountered any. I have been surprised, even embarrassed, by the number of people who are genuinely amazed that a woman might be capable of running a fishing boat. Frankly, I'm amazed that they're amazed. People, women in particular, are generally disappointed when they learn that I have not suffered unduly from being the only woman in what they perceive to be a man's world. I might be thick-skinned - or just too damn busy working to worry about what others might think of me. (58)

While there are many fascinating aspects to The Hungry Ocean, the thing that really stands out is Linda Greenlaw's obvious passion for her work. Her love for the sea and its inhabitants imbue her story with authenticity and heart. She has known the ocean intimately and speaks of its duality with authority:

I have taken life and living from the sea, and have given the same back, I suppose. The complex and all-consuming ocean feeds man, but also feeds upon men. The flat calm that gently digests my troubles is capable of violent turbulence of enough gluttony to chew up and spit out vessels of the strongest steel, often swallowing men and ships whole. The ocean which gives so much takes back what it needs, commanding respect and getting it from those who have seen and understand the hunger. (253)

Greenlaw is at her best when contemplating her greatest enemy and fondest love - The Hungry Ocean. Her account will consume you as well.

Grade: B+