I like comic books (“graphic novels” if you must). I read several over the last reading contest.
Elizabeth, my personal shopper for books and wonderful bad influence, gave me Rapunzel’s Revenge in which the wild west meets fairy tales. Rapunzel is not the type to sit around waiting to be rescued. Plus, long hair, which is something I’ve always wanted.
Elizabeth also took me along to an author event for the new Babymouse comic. I didn’t buy the new one, instead opting for the original, Babymouse, Queen of the World. You have to love a mousekid whose locker attacks her, eats her homework, and sometimes acts like the wardrobe that leads to Narnia. Even if she is incredibly pink and sparkly. (I was the only grown-up in line to get my book signed. Sigh.)
I polished off the third volume of Moomin comics, which I got for Syd and then immediately borrowed. I love them. And sometimes I feel like Moominmama.
I also devoured The Eternal Smile. I bought it because I loved American Born Chinese and found it just as spiffy cool.
In order to write T.’s story for Christmas, I had to learn a bunch about baseball. Of course, I pestered my dad with obscure questions like, “Are there any positions for which it is bad to be left-handed?” (Yes.) And I read several baseball books. Baseball was essentially a love-letter. It had lots of good information in it and a definite point of view. It gave the flavor of baseball. Watching Baseball Smarter explained the statistics and a lot of fun facts about history. The Everything Kids Baseball Book kept me from asking incredibly stupid questions. I still think the best things about baseball are hot dogs and beer, but I do find myself willing to be fascinated by the game, even if it isn’t football.
To round out the non-fiction category, I read 33 Things Every Girl Should Know About Women’s History, which is a good sampling of important stuff, The Water Giver, written by the incomparable Joan Ryan, whose sports reporting always impressed me, but which has nothing to do with sports and everything to do with being a parent and finding grace in horrible circumstances, and There Is Nothing Wrong With You, which told me to treat myself with compassion.
More tomorrow…
Elizabeth, my personal shopper for books and wonderful bad influence, gave me Rapunzel’s Revenge in which the wild west meets fairy tales. Rapunzel is not the type to sit around waiting to be rescued. Plus, long hair, which is something I’ve always wanted.
Elizabeth also took me along to an author event for the new Babymouse comic. I didn’t buy the new one, instead opting for the original, Babymouse, Queen of the World. You have to love a mousekid whose locker attacks her, eats her homework, and sometimes acts like the wardrobe that leads to Narnia. Even if she is incredibly pink and sparkly. (I was the only grown-up in line to get my book signed. Sigh.)
I polished off the third volume of Moomin comics, which I got for Syd and then immediately borrowed. I love them. And sometimes I feel like Moominmama.
I also devoured The Eternal Smile. I bought it because I loved American Born Chinese and found it just as spiffy cool.
In order to write T.’s story for Christmas, I had to learn a bunch about baseball. Of course, I pestered my dad with obscure questions like, “Are there any positions for which it is bad to be left-handed?” (Yes.) And I read several baseball books. Baseball was essentially a love-letter. It had lots of good information in it and a definite point of view. It gave the flavor of baseball. Watching Baseball Smarter explained the statistics and a lot of fun facts about history. The Everything Kids Baseball Book kept me from asking incredibly stupid questions. I still think the best things about baseball are hot dogs and beer, but I do find myself willing to be fascinated by the game, even if it isn’t football.
To round out the non-fiction category, I read 33 Things Every Girl Should Know About Women’s History, which is a good sampling of important stuff, The Water Giver, written by the incomparable Joan Ryan, whose sports reporting always impressed me, but which has nothing to do with sports and everything to do with being a parent and finding grace in horrible circumstances, and There Is Nothing Wrong With You, which told me to treat myself with compassion.
More tomorrow…
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Happy New Year --
All best,
Joan Ryan
The thanks, actually, go to YOU for writing it.
:)