It started out as a compilation of book lists from places like the Modern Library and Time and the BBC, but I also add other books to it all the time. [Current tally: 421.] I am fully prepared to not ever actually complete it.

Also like The Movies List, this one is full of books that I would not normally choose myself. Things like The Clan of the Cave Bear, Dune, and multiple L. Ron Hubbard titles, which I can’t say I’m looking forward to.

On the other hand, it has also effected my introduction to important authors I hadn’t bothered to get around to yet, like Willa Cather and E.M. Forster and Evelyn Waugh. Bonus points for that.

It also includes the 46 remaining books of the 101 Books list. Unfortunately, this sub-list is taking approximately forever to finish, because I didn’t have the foresight to create or complete it with enough time before I found out we were moving to England. All 101 books are currently in storage somewhere (I say this like their location isn’t noted right down to which number of box they’re in), and I refuse to purchase new copies just to finish the list.

So I borrow them from the library if possible—some things, like US history and religion, are not big topics here—or download free e-books or audiobooks. Or occasionally a combination thereof. If it’s a particularly interesting or long book, I listen to the audiobook while I’m doing computery things or cooking, and read the hardcopy or e-book when I’m not.

And now, you can keep tabs on what I’m reading with that handy “i’m currently reading” section over there on the sidebar. Lucky you!

When it comes to actual books, though, I tend to stick to non-fiction and the classics. I think this is because I don’t have much patience for stories whose characters or plot points, especially, test my woefully underdeveloped  suspension of disbelief (Really, Gilbert Grape? Tell me more about your developmentally disabled brother, morbidly obese mother, and that one time you intentionally burned the house to the ground). I prefer my literature to be either true or vetted by millions of readers in generations gone by.

And I’m glad that they have approved Charles Dickens for my reading list, because say what you will about his proclivity for implausible coincidence, the man knew how to write a story. With Dickens, you always know what you’re getting: despite early orphaning/unwarranted imprisonment and consequent poverty/mistreatment, faultless moral beacon struggles through adversity to eventual success and witnessing of adversaries’ material downfall due to greed and general moral depravity.

It’s comforting, in a way. Classic good v. evil, with the helpful Victorian clue that beauty = goodness (there are more than a few Dickens characters who would have been well served to sort this one out a bit earlier in the story).

But this thematic knowledge is NO REASON, Richard Maxwell, editor of Penguin Classics edition printed 2003, to spoil the ending of A Tale of Two Cities with an at best wholly unnecessary endnote four-fifths of the way through.*

So frustrating. I can’t unread it now! Yes, I know justice will prevail, as:

Dickens (Coincidence + Justice) ≠ Rocket Science,

but I didn’t know how.

* Book 3, Chapter 9, Note 1—you’ve been warned.

Last summer sometime, I borrowed a volume from the local library that contained three Nick Hornby books: High Fidelity, Fever Pitch, and About a Boy, only to discover that someone had gone through High Fidelity with a pencil and underlined presumably key words on every single page. The problem is that I have no idea what the method behind their madness was—there is no discernible theme, other than to cause me significant personal distress, of course.

And so, dear Internets, I offer you this painstakingly compiled list of underlined words from High Fidelity in hopes that you can help solve the mystery. Anyone?

drag
swings
roundabout
wingboat
dash your brains
clonk them on the head
squeaky voices
preposterous
parity
utterly bewildered
defies
snog
I stung
convey
scrounged
chucked
rut
fester
wrestled
wit
derisory
traitors, fifth columnists
molestation
she tucks her stomach in
clumsy
hell-bent
stumped for
soiled
outraged
loathed
knobbed
deception
mock-adult
sobriety
fickle world
nurture
social compasses
draw a new circle of friends
lumbered
scorn
cropped
strained
irresistible
ardent
fraud
splodge
flamboyance
fretful
punters
too witty
dimmest
averse
impeccable
crooked teeth
wanker
rejoiced
sulk
hold-all
sobering
relentlessly
gibberish
horn
groan
bristling
bollocks
smug smile
faded, shrunken tatty M&S scraps
dressing gown
chuckles
merrily
crush on somebody
smitten with Sarah
devotion
pillock
flicking her hair
inanely
chucked
dread
contorted
consummated
demon
clinging
dodgy
taut-looking
scowls
sponges off
dispense with awkward conversation
chap
shove
boxy
bum
self-deprecating
unfathomably
fret
diffidence
whingeing
tadpole
whatsit
saliva
spunk
crotchety
appalled
busting up
jerking
grittier
half-wit

—Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert [A decidedly feminine bent; those of the masculine persuasion may better enjoy The Last American Man by same.]

—Hellfire and Herring: A Childhood Remembered by Christopher Rush [Life and times growing up in a Scottish fishing town in the 1950s; excellent description of place. Bonus for Americans: scoop your friends! US edition doesn't release until March.]

—Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer [Come for the hook story of good old-fashioned, God-compelled, cold-blooded murder of women and children; stay for the fascinating look into Mormon origins and...um...fanaticism.]

—Pies and Prejudice: In Search of the North by Stuart Maconie [Percentage of references/slang I don't understand: 60. Percent of references/slang I wouldn't understand if I didn't live here: 95.]

Five books I seriously disliked:
—London: The Biography by Peter Ackroyd [Surprised my eyeballs are not frozen in permanently rolled back position; Amazon reviewer: "never met a metaphor he didn't like."]

—Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver [Hoping I like her fiction better come Poisonwood Bible time (cf. George Orwell).]

—The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History by Jonathan Franzen [Would perhaps had made it farther if I were reading rather than listening and so could have read fast enough to get to the presumably good part(s) before boredom/disinterest set in.]

—The Road to Wigan Pier by George Orwell [Just the last half when he starts pontificating about Socialism; first half was okay.]

—To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf [How is it possible to write an entire book in which nothing is ever said or actually happens? I can only take so much stream-of-consciousness/omniscient musing. I get that it's one of the Best Novels Of All Time, but it is So Not For Me.]

He does have a habit of describing people as clapping or rubbing together their two hands (as opposed to their one hand or 17 tentacles), but I’ll chalk that one up to being NINETY-THREE YEARS OLD and let it slide. I do not extend the same grace to The Dive from Clausen’s Pier, in which one character or another buries her face in her hands every other page. I personally have never seen anyone do this, ever, but maybe it’s a Midwestern thing. Or a tic. Or a Midwestern tic.

None of those in The Invisible Wall, though, so you can go ahead and read that one instead.

To sum up my absence:

Super Stupendous Camping 2007! Our annual camping trip with Eric, Cenaida, and Tony. Sometimes we let other people come too. This year, we went to Lower Falls Campground on the Lewis River, and I would venture to say it was our best location yet (others: Cape Lookout, Fort Stevens, Wallowa Lake, Memaloose, Silver Falls, Cape Disappointment). The campground is in Gifford Pinchot National Forest, way out of cell phone range. We drove around to the north side of Mount St. Helens and up to Windy Ridge. We went walking along the Lewis River, and Eric disobeyed some sternly worded signs and dove into the (completely undangerous) pool of glacierlike water at the top of some dangerous falls. No pictures from me, but Stephan just got a new camera, and here is what it does.

Temporary and Accidental Dissolution of Library Boycott This one was completely out of my control. Way back on Labor Day weekend, we went to Walla Walla for my grandpa’s birthday, and while we were there we visited some friends and had a great time geocaching and playing games. When we were leaving their house, the conversation turned to a book that I should borrow and read, a retelling of The Phantom of the Opera by Susan Kay. Only I’d never read the original book, seen any of the movies, or attended a performance of the highest-grossing entertainment event of all time. So after I finished the borrowed, retold book, I had to borrow the original from the library. Clearly, this whole ordeal is all Ethan’s fault for loaning me the book in the first place. But then he (and/or his wife, who, truth be told, did most of the work) brought an adorable child named Oliver into the world less than a week ago, so I guess we’ll let this one slide.

Obscure Film Festival We’ve already done the Star Wars and Lord of the Rings (extended) festivals, so this time we decided to pick a theme and make other people than me bring food when it’s their turn to bring the movie. So far, so awesome: Keeping Mum (Matt’s) and Clue (mine).

Geocaching and General Frivolity We had my mom, dad, and brother over for an excellent lunch that my mom made a few weeks ago. We’ve also taken my dad geocaching a couple times–we’ve ended up in some cool places that we otherwise would not have ever thought to go, but somehow this is always preceded by stomping around in a random gully in Marquam Nature Park or Forest Park in a futile search for cache that is somewhere completely different because we entered some numbers incorrectly. It is then that we really appreciate my dad’s presence because he will boldly go where we just don’t want to.

Not Cooking Dinner This has also been the month for eating out. Not only did we make a new rule that I don’t have to cook if I work more than 9 hours in a day, but in this last month, Stephan’s employer sold most of his business, Stephan’s MBA class met for dinner with some professors, and my boss relocated to Boise. So there have been plenty of excuses to go out and celebrate (business sale, MBA) or not (boss relocation).

Other, Secret News No, we are not pregnant.

Approximate number of days it took for Stephan to convince me we needed a new GPS: four.

2. I’ve upped my 94 to-read books to 101 with the addition of 7 books in a series that must not be named. Two library books to finish before my friendly boycott.

Approximate number of years before I finish 100 more books and can return: 57.

All literature is mandatory. Children’s books and textbooks are excluded, the former because they will be force-read to our impending children and the latter because they are boring (Macroeconomics and the Global Business Environment, anyone?) and I am in charge.

I am also not reading any reference books or anything that isn’t in English. Oh, and though it does not fall into any of the above categories, I will also not be reading The Nature of Consciousness: Philosophical Debates.

This leaves 94 books. Ninety-four! That’s a lot of books, Internets! At two per week (unlikely), I should finish in July of next year 2027). Not to mention whatever new books we may acquire in that time period.

I am not looking forward to:

Les Miserables (Very long and also not mine. I admit I was aware of this possession before I married Stephan, so I guess I made that bed.)

The Man in the Iron Mask

The Three Musketeers

The Last of the Mohicans (Movie score notwithstanding, a horrible book [at least the first three chapters], and I was gratified to learn in Modern American Literature that I am not the only one who thinks so.)

The Brothers Karamazov (I’ve made it through the first four or five chapters on three separate occasions. Ah, the road to hell.)

And a whole bunch of poetry: blech. Maybe I will outsource this part.

Any takers?