First for the Year

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Grade: B

I am almost ashamed to admit that I only just finished reading my first book for the year. At nearly 500 pages, The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón is not exactly a quick read, but once upon a time I would have finished it within a week, maybe even a couple of days if it were a real page turner.

But The Shadow of the Wind is not a page turner. It is inconsistent, often awkward and occasionally rushed, with characters that you want to like but can’t because they’re incompletely drawn. The point of view shifts around, with massive sections of the story told by side characters, who omnisciently relate details of events they did not personally witness, indeed couldn’t have possibly known. It’s as if the author did not know how to bring all the threads of his story together so that they’d meet at the end. He sewed it all together like a novice tailor. Not only does the stitching look bad, but it won’t hold.

That’s not to say there’s nothing to like about the book. The prose is at times luscious. Parts of the story have a haunting quality. I think that scraps of it are likely to linger in the corners of my memory, like harmless little ghosts who occasionally rattle their chains softly to call attention to themselves. I liked the premise: that somewhere in Barcelona there is a secret library of lost books, the existence of which is known by only a chosen few. Inside that library one might find a book so wonderful that one has to find out what happened to its author, no matter how perilous the quest. Too bad the library didn’t feature more prominently in the story.

IMHO, what this book needed was some heavy editing. I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but seriously, where are the editors these days? I have seen too many promising books fall flat because the editors didn’t make the writers work. It’s such a shame.

So I do not recommend The Shadow of the Wind, except as an example of a book that did not live up to its promise. Alas, there is no shortage of those!

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A Mystery

A month went by without a single Poirot post. That’s unusual. Normally I’d force myself to sit down on Sunday, no matter what else I had going on, and post a quote. So what happened?

My husband happened. One day he said to me, “When I see a Poirot post, my eyes glaze over.” That made me sad. I liked the Weekly Poirot, but since my sole reader did not, I began to question its value. I still meant to keep it up, but my heart was no longer in it, so I stopped posting.

What I really liked best about the Weekly Poirot, though, was having a reason to return to the blog every week. Sunday Stories didn’t quite cut it. The Weekly Poirot was good for quite a while. Now I guess it’s time to come up with some other Sunday feature. I wonder what it will be?

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One Year

Dear Livia,

You are a year old now. It’s hard to believe it, but the calendar doesn’t lie. One year ago today, it was snowing hard. I was in the hospital, first in labor and then taking care of my brand new baby girl. You were beautiful, and it was so wonderful holding you, snug and warm, while watching the snow swirl outside. But you were also purple. The doctor promised that you were OK. Still I worried.

I needn’t have. You have been developing at a normal pace. Maybe you’re even a little bit advanced for your age. You certainly learned to walk early!

Today I went to work in Connecticut. It rained all day. I don’t know what I was thinking when I made the plans to travel this day. I realized it was your birthday, but I thought “Well, we’re not going to celebrate until the party, so what difference does it make?” But as I picked you up in the morning, kissed you, and wished you a happy birthday, I knew I wouldn’t be home again until after you had gone to bed, and I was sad. I thought of you all day and missed you.

I can’t even imagine what life would be like without you. I remember having a conversation with your dad after Marshall was born but before we were expecting you. We agreed that we had one more open space in our family.

You filled that space. You completed our family. I’m so glad you joined us, LivLuv, one year ago today. Happy Birthday!

Love,

Mom

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Forgotten Pictures of 2011: Part IV

Nameless Snowstorm of October 29, 2011

Crash!

Bad luck. If only our garage doors had been working or we had parked a few inches forward...

Destructiveness of the storm aside, the contrast of autumn foliage against winter snow was quite beautiful.

Destructiveness of the storm aside, the contrast of autumn foliage against winter snow was quite beautiful.

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Forgotten Pictures of 2011: Part III

 

It always cheers my heart to see a dragonfly, whether it's zipping about in the air or resting lazily on a leaf.

Here's a pretty fungus that reminds me of seashells.

Here's a fungus that reminds me of chocolate.

Here is a cup that some dumb-ass left in the woods. I wish people wouldn't do that.

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Forgotten Pictures of 2011: Part II

Take heed, Mojo. He who sleeps in laundry basket will one day wake up in washing machine.

Zooming in at the zoo.

My first look at the boat. OMG, we have a boat!

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Keep on Moving

From Third Girl

But one could not relax forever, one had to go on to the next thing. Unfortunately he had no idea what the next thing might be. Some further literary accomplishment? He thought not. Do a thing well, then leave it alone. That was his maxim.

I have not been relaxing, but I feel in many ways that it is time for me to “go on to the next thing.” I have done some things well and perhaps it is time to leave them alone.

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Forgotten Pictures of 2011: Part I

Here are some pictures I took in 2011 that never made it into blog posts.

One day I walked into Marshall's room and this is what I found. Apparently Marshall had decided that "Dear Zoo" should not be a lift-the-flap book, and now it is not.

Sometimes the oddest things strike me as being photo-worthy. Can you guess what this is? The answer is posted in the comments.

Reading by Candlelight

The last picture is my favorite of the three. There is a story behind it. Hurricane Irene knocked out our power for a couple of days. We ate dinner outside to take advantage of the light from the setting sun. Later, with no laptops or TV, we had little to do but read, and we had no choice but to share the meager light of our candles and flashlights, so my husband and I read together for the first time in a long time. I enjoyed that night so much, I think maybe we should have a Lights-Out Night on purpose every now and again.

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Christmas 2011

Christmas 2011 was Livia’s first Christmas and Marshall’s third.

We talked to Marshall about Santa Claus many times in the weeks approaching Christmas, and he learned to recognize the fat man in the red, fur-lined coat, but he still didn’t quite get the whole idea of what Christmas and Santa mean. He grasped the idea of gifts, though. As we were coming down the stairs Christmas Eve, he saw one of the presents his dad was taking out to the car and he said, “Present! Downstairs!” He was very excited.

Having mastered the art of opening gifts at his last birthday party, he eagerly tore into the pile of Christmas gifts at his vovó’s house. He got so good at it that he started opening everyone else’s gifts, too, like Vovó’s nightgowns. He was quite glad to unwrap Livia’s gifts, as well. I noticed, though, that as soon as he saw that a gift contained clothing, he would toss the clothes into the air and move on to the next thing.

Marshall ate all the butterfly-shaped crackers on the cheese-and-cracker plate. Then he asked for another butterfly, and everyone said, “Oh, he said ‘butterfly!’ How cute!” His dad told me about this later and he seemed disgusted. He said, “It wasn’t cute. He was just trying to get another cracker out of them!” It was cute, I think, but yeah, he was totally working an angle.

Marshall got a set of toy Black & Decker tools. They are impressively realistic and sturdy. Both kids were totally engrossed by them and we had silence in the house for at least half an hour Christmas morning. That makes those plastic toys worth their weight in gold!

Livia couldn’t resist the snowflake ornaments on the tree. By the time we were done opening presents on Christmas day, she had removed all of the ones that she could reach. She’d grab a snowflake, ball it up in one of her moist little hands, then run around until someone took it away from her.

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Labor of Love

My husband likes 60 Minutes, and sometimes I watch it with him. I wouldn’t necessarily consider the broadcasts memorable, but I remember Andy Rooney once saying something like this: “The good [columns] take an hour [to write]. The bad ones take weeks.”

He was so right! When I write Dear Marshall and Dear Livia posts, the ones that I like best are almost always those that seem to write themselves. Most of them are painful and slow, and sometimes I give up trying to make them good. I just post them, because if I wait too long they’ll no longer feel relevant and I’ll have to delete them. I figure that someday I’ll be happy to have all of the posts, whether poor or mediocre or excellent, because each one tells a story, not just about the children but about the whole family and our life together. So I continue to put out those Dear Marshall and Dear Livia posts, even the slow ones that probably aren’t any good.

This is my labor of love.

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