First Book, a nonprofit organization providing new books to children in need, is having Benefit Days at Borders and Waldenbooks this weekend. Click on the link below for a 10% off coupon valid on August 26 and 27. Not only will you get a discount, but Borders will donate 10% of your purchase to First Book and you’ll be helping kids own their first new books.

Update: The link has been removed since the coupon is now expired.

When I surf around the Internet, I’m always amazed at the books other literary bloggers manage to read. Although I pick up a book every day, I often feel inadequate because I don’t get through enough books and my choices aren’t always “quality” literature. As examples, Patrick of Litblog has finished 29 books so far in 2006, and his list makes me feel like a real dummy since I only recognize a handful of the titles. Mental multivitamin’s most recent “on the nightstand” post features eight books currently in process around the house. And I’d never be able to converse books with Conversational Reading since I haven’t read a one from his massive list of 41 recently read titles.

So far in 2006, I’ve finished 30 books. A decent number, but 13 of them were children’s books, including the last seven from A Series of Unfortunate Events, and didn’t require a whole lot of mental processing. The rest of them weren’t very highbrow, although I did manage to get through A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce and was reminded why I never finished it in high school. I suppose I should just get over it. But I think you can tell a lot about a person by what they read, so I wonder what assumptions some might make about me from my book list.

I wandered around the house this morning and found the four books I currently have in process:

Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem was sitting on my dining room table. I already read it once this year with the intention of using it for June’s abandoned discussion. During that reading, I dogeared a bunch of pages to reference in questions and by now I can’t remember what I originally wanted to point out. My plan is to read it again and see if the dogears trigger any ideas. I haven’t been doing so well since I’m only on page 2.

How to Grow More Vegetables by John Jeavons has found a home on the coffee table. It was a gift from a friend who thought it would give me some gardening ideas, so I’ve been kicking around a plan to begin composting.

The South Beach Diet by Arthur Agatston went from storage to kitchen counter after a particularly harsh encounter with the bathroom scale. When I tried the diet the first time, I didn’t lose any weight but didn’t gain any either. I did like the focus on vegetables and eliminating most pound-packing carbs, so I thought I’d give it a go again. However, this morning’s breakfast of Vegetable Quiche Cups to Go wasn’t very filling and I’m already thinking about what else is in the fridge.

The Life of Elizabeth I by Alison Weir was in bed. I don’t have a nightstand, so whatever I do before sleep turns into a bedmate. Other bedmates often include eyeglasses, TV remote, magazines, newspapers, and catalogs. This book was acquired with several others from Kate’s mom, and it fits well into the non-fiction trend I’ve been on recently. Sadly, I’m confused as hell. The narrative is more topical than chronological and I’ve bogged myself down with trying to figure out what happened when. Having to go back and reread is making it last forever, so I may need to sacrifice some understanding in the interest of time.

Hmm.

Context is everything. Dress me up and see. I’m a carnival barker, an auctioneer, a downtown performance artist, a speaker in tongues, a senator drunk on filibuster. I’ve got Tourette’s. My mouth won’t quit, though mostly I whisper or subvocalize like I’m reading aloud, my Adam’s apple bobbing, jaw muscle beating like a miniature heart under my cheek, the noise suppressed, the words escaping silently, mere ghosts of themselves, husks empty of breath and tone. (If I were a Dick Tracy villain, I’d have to be Mumbles.) In this diminished form the words rush out of the cornucopia of my brain to course over the surface of the world, tickling reality like fingers on piano keys. Caressing, nudging. They’re an invisible army on a peacekeeping mission, a peaceable horde. They mean no harm. They placate, interpret, massage. Everywhere they’re smoothing down imperfections, putting hairs in place, putting ducks in a row, replacing divots. Counting and polishing the silver. Patting old ladies gently on the behind, eliciting a giggle. Only—here’s the rub—when they find too much perfection, when the surface is already buffed smooth, the ducks already orderly, the old ladies complacent, then my little army rebels, breaks in the stores. Reality needs a prick here and there, the carpet needs a flaw. My words begin plucking at threads nervously, seeking purchase, a weak point, a vulnerable ear. That’s when it comes, the urge to shout in the church, the nursery, the crowded movie house. It’s an itch at first. Inconsequential. But that itch is soon a torrent behind a straining dam. Noah’s flood. That itch is my whole life. Here it comes now. Cover your ears. Build an ark.

“Eat me!” I scream.

—Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem

As you can see by the tote board on the left, our discussions will be revived in September with the book I was supposed to moderate in June. I’m excited and have already begun rereading and taking notes. If one other person reads it and joins in, I’ll be happy.

Although ignoring a problem is something I do pretty well, at least I’m optimistic enough to believe that nothing is irrecoverable. Despite exponentially growing spam, it took only a short time investment in prevention to keep it from getting any worse. For now, the spam barrier seems to be holding and I can’t help draw a parallel to another preventative measure I put into place at the end of the week.

Bats, the flying mammal kind, have invaded my neighborhood. I don’t mind bats themselves, but poop on the siding and hearing them crawl around in the ceiling above my bed was an issue. It wasn’t so bad at first when I had only four. That number doubled after my next door neighbor hired a wildlife expert to bat-proof her home. Rather than let the bat situation spiral out of control, a friend stayed over one night to help serve the eviction notice. After the bats went hunting, we temporarily sealed up the entrances with masking tape. The next morning, it was complete pandemonium as they tried to get back in, only to be thwarted by a simple strip of tape. The bats eventually gave up and flew into the distance to find other shelter. I’ve since permanently caulked each opening, and the barrier seems to be holding.

So far, the spam barrier also seems to be holding. As with the bats, I hope the spammers eventually give up and stop dropping poop all over my house.

Thanks to Ana’s post and a lot of kind comments and e-mails, I have finally forced myself to do something about BookBlog. Frankly, there have been two basic reasons why I have allowed the site to languish over the last several months: a lifestyle change and endless spam.

My New Life

Back in October, I finally stepped onto the property ladder. I purchased a house in a lakeside community and left behind my city apartment. The move took several months since I managed it in the most inefficient way possible, one carload at a time. My sister took over the apartment, so I never felt pressure to get it all done at once and it had the effect of allowing me to drag my heels. Having been an urbanite all of my life, I suffered some culture shock as I began adjusting to life in the sub-suburbs. Although my new community isn’t completely rural, I skipped the manicured lawns of the suburbs and am in a home which gets most of its heat from a wood-burning stove. (Seriously, who wouldn’t freak out? One day you’re turning a thermostat dial and the next you’re splitting logs with a wedge and sledgehammer.) And there are the non-stop home improvements: a new water heater, ductwork, electrical, drywall, flooring, painting, decorating, and an enormous list of things still to do.

Over time, living 50 miles away from the day job began to take its toll. I drove at first but was quickly discouraged by traffic (New Jersey’s leg of Route 80 is possibly the worst road in all creation) and a twice-daily, rush hour, white-knuckle, slamming on the brakes crawl over the George Washington Bridge. I switched to the train which meant that, although less stressful, my commute was three hours each way. Each way! Losing six hours a day left me with no desire to devote any precious free time to managing a web site. When the school year ended in June, I gave up teaching fourth grade at a place I loved. It was a difficult decision but my time is now my own. I haven’t done much about finding another job because summer vacation is a vice I didn’t want to sacrifice to hunting. The dog days are winding down, so if anyone out there knows of a job for an unemployed teacher with lots of diverse talents in northern New Jersey, feel free to e-mail me. I’m willing to work for peanuts and all serious offers will be considered.

Spam, Spam, and More Spam

Spam is like a snowball rolling down a hill. If you don’t do anything to stop its progress, it keeps on getting bigger. What can I say? It’s been easiest to simply ignore it.

Steps in the Right Direction

After months of doing nothing, I finally did something. I upgraded to the latest version of Movable Type. Things will look kind of funky around here for a while as I learn how to use all of its features, including the spam filtering. For now, I’ve set the site so that comments have to be approved manually. I realize it will slow things down a bit since it will require me to look at each comment before publishes, but this measure is only temporary since I’m most concerned with slowing the spamball. I’m also resolving to post daily. I probably won’t always write about books even though I read constantly, so please bear with my ramblings as I try to keep the homepage from stagnating. And the there’s the Gender Genie. It will be back…at some point.

Of course, BookBlog’s primary mission is to discuss books. Most likely, the next discussion will take place in September to give everyone time to read the selection. For the moment, I’m thinking about reviving the discussion I bailed on, Jonathan Lethem’s Motherless Brooklyn. If anyone is interested in signing up for October forward, feel free to leave a comment on this thread.

Big Thanks

Finally, I’d like to mention my appreciation of BookBlog’s members, readers, commenters, and e-mailers. I’m especially grateful to Ana, who took the initiative to post and light a fire under my butt. If it wasn’t for everyone’s interest in the site, it would have been long dead by now. You’ve breathed life back into this tired phoenix. And I sincerely thank you.

is bookblog...dead?