my new love

So, I think it's time to blog again. I'm not even sure many people read this anymore, but it appears as though I'm getting over my two-month-long writer's block, so here goes.

I am happy to announce that I am now a bookworm! I have never been a good reader - ever. As a kid, I always liked the idea of reading, and was drawn to pretty book covers with interesting synopses on their backsides, but reading a book from cover to cover was never my forte. I just didn't like to be alone and I always thought of reading as a solitary and lonesome pasttime. Even in college, I rarely read the assigned literature in its entirety. I became quite good at skimming the pages and zeroing in on the seemingly pertinent information, which probably took more time than actual reading, but what can I say - I was never a true reader until recently. In spite of this, I have always had a bit of a love affair with bookstores. There is something magical about scanning shelf after shelf and reading the bindings that are graced with every imaginable font and title. It's as though I have been distantly flirting with books for many years, and toying with the idea of actually committing to one, yet I have never had the courage to see beyond their covers until now.

This courage to commit began in Bangkok. I find myself with a lot of freetime over here. I only teach a few hours a day, but am required to stay at school from 7:30 AM to 4:00, which leaves me with several elongated gaps, and I do not do well with idle time on my hands. So, a few months ago, I went for a read from the genre cleverly titled "chick flick lit." It was an easy read that caused me to laugh out loud a few times, which was refreshing as I was not in the highest of spirits when I first landed myself on this side of the world. It probably took me a few weeks to finish the book, but I was delighted to have conquered my lifelong fear of book committment. The next couple of books came from the same genre, and although I enjoyed them and was pleased to have successfully continued on my reading journey, I was not feeling as full as I had hoped. I used to think that reading an entire book would be similar to eating a superbly executed Thanksgiving dinner, but after reading a few not-so-mentally-stimulating books, I began to see that there are all kinds of degrees of "full" one can be depending on the type of book one chooses to consume.

Surprisingly, Bangkok has a great selection of English books, which is wonderful because I have been able to actively pursue my bookstore love affair even in Southeast Asia, and I'm getting pretty serious with a bookstore called Kinokuniya. Sometimes I barely get passed the display tables strategically located right by the front entrance. They are chock-full of literature delights and tasty morsels, one of which was a book by the name of Camilla. I picked it up because I was drawn to the wintery illustration on its front cover, and, I've always liked books that have a simple title. Camilla is a novel written by Madeleine L'Engle - the author of the famous children's book, A Wrinkle in Time. It is a coming-of-age book that deals with a fifteen year old girl's initiation into young adulthood through the pain of her parents' marriage troubles and through the exciting, yet startling experience of her first love. The reason I liked this book was not so much for its subject matter as it was for the fascinating means by which L'Engle relayed the story she wanted to tell. The wintery cover of the book complemented my mood while reading it. It felt as though I was peering into Camilla's life through a window shrouded by the drizzle that comes from a rainy day. I loved L'Engle's ability to make me grow alongside the teenage protagonist. I almost understood the despair she felt with her parents' marital problems and I felt the same paradoxical mix of emotions she did concerning her first love. Reading Camilla showed me that a good book can not only bring you into the private emotions of its characters, but it can also transport you into a place that is neither lonesome nor solitary at all. In fact, I became rather bound to Camilla and I wanted so desperately for her to succeed and make it through the trials of entering a new phase in life. I definitely recommend this book :)

Another one of my new favorites is Melissa Bank's, The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing. I must confess, I truly had been flirting with this book for almost a year. I loved its plaid binding and the quircky image of a girl venturing into the snow - seemingly ready to embark on a grand adventure, yet I never bought it because I didn't want to be let down. The cover led me to believe that it would be a great read, but I was worried that once I actually broke its binding, I would be terribly dissapointed, but thanks to my book guru and dear friend, Vicky (whom I lovingly call Aunt Veecky thanks to the Lindsay Lohan Parent Trap remake), I decided to give the girls' guide a whirl. Bank is one of those writers who just has it. She is witty, raw, real, tender and clever all at once and she has mastered the coming-of-age craft as well. (Are we starting to see a trend here?) Maybe I'm finally coming of age too, lol. The girls' guide is a smattering of vignettes about the main character and her life experiences as an awkward teenager, a successful publisher, a mom, and a lover to a famous and much older man. I love the clarity and transparency Bank writes with. She is not interested in sugar coating or making the reader feel completely comfortable, instead, she allows her characters to develop much like a real person would. Life is messy, and with the mess comes beauty, and I feel this truth resonated within the pages of the girls' guide. I can't wait to read Bank's second novel, The Wonder Spot.

And now, I can share with you my current read. It is different from any book I have ever encountered and unlike my drawn-out flirtation with the previously mentioned book, I did not court this one at all; rather, I stumbled upon it in the travel writing section of Kinokuniya just about a week and a half ago. The cover is a beautiful cerulean blue and it has a picture of a glacier and a kayak with a downplayed, yet aesthetically pleasing white font that reads, Rowing to Latitude by Jill Fredston. It is a memoir-like compilation of Jill and her husband's kayaking adventures around the arctic. I'm only halfway through this delectable read and I am already wishing that it would not end. Fredston's writing is much like rising with the fresh remnants of a beautiful dream. Her storytelling invites me as a distant reader into the kayak with her and I have been offered the amazing view of the arctic. I am travelling alongside Fredston and her husband as they navigate through treacherous icy waters, dodge, then wonder at forty-foot-long humpback whales, scare off massive, tent-attacking grizzlies, and relish in the simple beauty of love. Even if you're not interested in outdoor adventures or the travel writing genre, I recommend this book for its uncanny ability to make you see the world as one huge organism that albeit grandeur, is accessible enough for each one of us to experience a slice of its God-crafted wonders.

OK, so I commend you if you made it all the way through this massive blog, and I thank you for allowing me to expound upon my internal reactions to the books that have spoken into my life as of late.

Speaking of late, it's getting late here and I have three year olds to teach come sunrise! As per usual, I'd love to hear from you!

xoxo