in which i gush over plain kate, etc.

I stayed in bed until 12:30 today, reading a book.  And not just any book.  It's my new of-many-favorites book: Plain Kate, by Erin Bow.  I cannot begin to describe all the reasons I loved it.  Here's a list, to get my brain going:

1.  It was beautifully written, and I mean that in the most genuine sense.  Meager broken lines away from being considered verse (in my book).
2.  There is a talking cat.
3.  You both love and fear the villain (Can you even call him that?  Genius).
4.  It's a story about friendship and family, a breath of fresh air after so much boysboysboyskissingkissing.
5.  There are boats, and I love boats.
6.  I cried at the end, but I'm not depressed.
7.  The heart and message are intriguing and incredible.
8.  The magic is terrifying.
9.  The story is concise.  No wandering around without purpose, thinking.  Every scene fills a role.
   and...
10.  I am, for the first time in a while, not left to wish the author had done something different.

That's a pretty concise view of my opinion, actually.  Oh, but this is so hard, because I want so badly to tell you everything, but then you won't read it, and I really think it would be better for you if you just read it.  I have to be honest, I haven't felt this way about a book in a long time.  I've read a lot of great books in the past year, but this is one of maybe a fistful that call out to me in a different way.  I loved The Hunger Games, of course.  Brilliant.  But something unique happens when I read a story I not only wish I could have written, but also encapsulates the kind of writing I think I actually could do.  That was a muddle of a sentence.  What I mean is, as much as I loved THG, and as much as I would love to write something that awesome one day, it just doesn't feel like me.  Plain Kate feels like me, like what I think my voice could be.  And it's so cool and inspiring to read, and it fills me with confidence.  Or, if nothing else, encouragement.  I want to write this kind of book.

The last time I felt this way, for anyone who's interested, was after I read Lips Touch: Three Times, by Laini Taylor.  My semi-embarrassing review (which she actually read, and then thanked me for, if you can believe that-- I know, I about peed my pants) can be found right here.  And, hey, now that I think about it, guess how I found out about Plain Kate?  Laini Taylor.  Talk about full circle.

And, no, of course I'm not jumping up and down like a hyper kitty over the upcoming release of Laini's next book, Daughter of Smoke and Bone.  Of course not.  Silly you for even thinking that.

So, yes.  It's been a good day.

gregorific.

Adj.  Simultaneously awesome and depressing.

Maybe we should call it Suzannetastic, actually.  It would mean the same thing.

No, but really.  I loved these books.  It was both very like and very unlike reading The Hunger Games.  Similarities:  violence and adventure and anti-war themes.  Differences:  a more juvenile voice, more fantastical elements, and a boy's perspective rather than a girl's.

There is something I love about a boy's point of view, and I don't really know why.  I'm a girl, so you'd think it would be the other way around, but no.  Heck, my own current writing project is from a boy's perspective.  A good chunk of my favorite books are also male POV, now that I think about it.  Life of Pi, for one.  Also, Harry freaking Potter.  And, of course, Gregor.  But also White Cat and Looking For Alaska, both of which I read last month, and The Replacement, which I read back in the fall and then never wrote about, but probably should have because I really enjoyed it.  Let's see...  I think my favorite read of the past year is still Lips Touch, by Laini Taylor, and about a third of that (maybe more, depending on how you define POV) was told through male characters.  I don't know why I'm rambling about this, but it's funny to think about because even growing up, I always got along a little better with boys than I ever did with girls.  Maybe it's because I have a brother and no sisters.  Plus, with male main characters I can have crushes.  With female main characters, they have the crushes.  NotthatthismattersanymorebecauseIammarried.  Ahem.  [Also, this is not an absolute rule because I have both disliked male MCs, and adored male side characters told from female perspectives: examples:  Harry Potter: boo, get over yourself.  Peeta Mellark:  oh my gosh I think I married you.  It is time to move on to another topic.]

Anyway!  Also, like The Hunger Games, Gregor left me in a stupor.  A haze.  Because life sucks and then you die, but there are so many important things to learn from it along the way.  Like, quit killing each other!
[P.s. While typing "are so" just now, I accidentally forgot the space bar and ended up with the word "ares."  Ares!!!!  I want a pet bat.  Just so I could name him after the bats in the series.]

I meant for this to be more about Gregor and less about other things, but it doesn't seem to be working.  Here's something awesome, though:  The Gregor books were published annually from 2003 to 2007, and then The Hunger Games books picked up and were published in '08, '09, and '10, respectively.  Which is to say, Suzanne Collins is an absolute machine.  Is she publishing anything this year?  Goodness knows I will devour it and then be depressed by it, but still love it.

because i want to write reviews.

Lips Touch: Three Times, by Laini Taylor  

Let me just start by saying, the maxim "don't judge a book by its cover" was coined for this one. I wanted to read Lips Touch because I wanted to read Laini Taylor (I enjoy her blog immensely).  I went for Lips Touch, let's be honest, I hesitated a little based on the pouty, red-lipped vixen on the cover.  I'm still not even sure who it's supposed to be, and it's a tad too romancey for my taste.  Fortunately, the Amazon preview started with the first chapter and not the little intro, and these were the first words I read (I'm not sure if "There is a certain kind of girl the goblins crave," would have caught me in quite the same way):

Kizzy's family lived in the weird house outside of town with all the anvils in the yard and the tick-ridden billy goat that rammed the fenced whenever anyone walked past.

And I was hooked.  I fell in love with that crazy billy goat, man.  I read the rest of the preview (which may have been the first three pages- not enough for me to realize what it was even about), and wanted to read more.  When my copy came in the mail, I slipped off the pouty-lipped dust jacket and haven't picked it up since.  Because the art on the inside is plain magical.  The first images I saw made me squeal:  Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market remains my favorite of all the poems I've studied.  I thought to myself several times, looking at the opening illustrations, "How did she know?"  As if it had occurred to Laini Taylor one day, "Hey, this is Julie's favorite poem, I should write a short story about it."  I get this way about what I read/see sometimes, harboring secret convictions that it was made just for me.

You know how sometimes a particular film/book/experience reaches you in a certain way based on the film/book/experience that came right before it?  For example, two of my favorite plays to be a part of in college were JB and The Hiding Place, because they followed the grueling hard work of Spitfire Grill and Arsenic and Old Lace, respectively, BOTH of which featured my playing an old lady (blech).  In JB and The Hiding Place, though the work was still hard, I relished in my smaller roles and was able to enjoy the camaraderie of the whole thing a lot more.  This book was like that.  It's my most recent read in a long, long line of grueling hard work: Going Bovine, which made me feel like I'd gone bonkers and then depressed me horribly, St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, wherein very few stories actually felt as though they had come to an end before the author just quit writing them, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, which was beautifully done, but heartbreakingly lacking in the story department, Toby Alone and Toby and the Secrets of the Tree, which left me vaguely happy, because happy endings do that-- until I'd thought about it for a few days, and now I wonder, really?  

On my birthday, I started reading Lips Touch, and relished in my smaller role.  It was fun.  I was able to kick back and enjoy the camaraderie.  There was no terminal illness (or freaking insanity) to deal with, no unfinished ideas that made me feel stupid, no questionable or unbelievable motivations, no confusion over which character I was supposed to be following (there was a twist in this area in the third story, Hatchling, but I loved it)...  I didn't really get mad at the writing, or the illustrations, though I remain a tad peeved over the cover, mostly since it does not fit the rest of the book.  Sort of like a strange costuming choice that makes the audience cock their heads to the side in unison when it appears, and later whisper, "I don't know what all that was about.  But didn't you love it when--"

Okay.  I'm not going to mention the cover art anymore.

Let's talk about the stories.

The opening story, Goblin Fruit, is a direct descendant of Rossetti's Goblin Market, as earlier implied.  It follows the "but what happened next" path, though it skips a couple of generations.  I really like the name Kizzy.  I like that it's related to Lizzie, the name of the girl in Rossetti's original.  And I like that she's just far enough removed from her grandmother's story to not really care when it comes down to it.  And without giving too much away, I love the final illustration (not the one pictured here, a different one).  At first I skimmed over it, thinking, "Oh, the grandmother," but when I looked back earlier today, I think I figured it out.  Is that not Kizzy herself?  I kind of hope so.  And, wow.

The synopsis of the book states that all three of these stories hinge on a first kiss, but I would argue that this first story is the only one that really does.  They all involve first kisses, but this is the only one where anything actually hinges on it.  And I like that.

The middle story, Spicy Little Curses Such As These, was much stronger than the first (which is saying a lot, because the first was pretty dang good), and featured one of the most fascinating characters I've ever encountered: Anamique, whose voice will kill anyone who hears it and has successfully remained silent for 18 years.  And as wacky as that sounds, the beauty of this woman's writing is that you actually believe it.

The final story, Hatchling, takes up the whole second half of the book, and it was my favorite.  I had no stinking clue what was going on for the longest time, but once it started coming together, man, it took my breath away.  I loved so many specific things, but I'll let you read it if you want, so you can enjoy all the sweet morsels as they come.  I especially loved (as alluded to above) the multiple points of view.  At first, you might pinpoint Esme as the main girl, the one to follow, until you learn about her mother, Mab, or meet Mihai, who tastes like a river.  It's his story you're really following, in which Esme only plays a part.  It's pretty awesome, guys, whether you like fantasy or not.  I will say that parts of this story were a tad too mature for younger readers, but all was handled with such great taste that I didn't even realize how disturbed I should have been until later.  And yes, that's a good thing.

I have to be honest, as much as I love the Market, Goblin Fruit was probably my least favorite story of Lips Touch.  I even contemplated taking the whole thing to McKay's,  very early on, not because I didn't like it, but because I thought it would be nothing more than a fun read.  Wrong-o.  The rest of the book turned me all the way around.  It wasn't just a fun read, it was a quality read.  Sorry, McKay's.  I mean, McKay.  You can have half the books I mentioned earlier, but I'm keeping Lips Touch.

*all illustrations (minus the cover of St. Lucy's) by Jim Di Bartolo.