I can’t pretend that I will miss Dewey in the same way that her family and (offline) friends will. But I respected and admired her, and I will miss her posts, her generosity, and her seemingly tireless enthusiasm for books and readers.

Dewey was the force behind Weekly Geeks and the semi-annual Read-a-Thons, as well as the Bookworms Carnivals. She was, I think, a true pillar of the book-blogging community.

Farewell messages to Dewey and condolences for the family can be sent via her contact form.

Post from: She Reads Books

In Memoria

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Broadly, what is All the Fishes Come Home to Roost about?

All the Fishes Come Home to Roost is a memoir about Rachel Manija Brown’s experiences growing up in an Indian ashram. When Rachel was seven, her hippie parents decided to move from California to a “spiritual commune” in India that worships Meher Baba. The memoir is about her experience growing up as the only foreign child in a country and home that is completly abnormal.

Do you read a lot of memoirs? How does it compare to others in the genre? How is the writing?

I do read a lot of memoirs, so it’s pretty easy to compare. This memoir is unique because her childhood experience is so unlike anything I can imagine, and I suspect most people can imagine. While I respect memoirs about all the heavy subjects, I liked this one because it was about an experience that was so unique. Rachel’s writing style is very accessible and conversational, although sometimes it gets annoying to hear over and over again what a smart kid she was.

What made you pick this book up?

My favorite professor was having a class in creative nonfiction read it, and she recommended it to me.

What was it like? Funny? Touching? Bitter? How did the author treat the memories of her childhood?

I thought it was very funny, but just a touch bitter. Even before she was forced to move to India, Rachel was an unsual kid — reading really early, not very social, just sort of out there. You sometimes get a sense of her bitterness towards that, and towards her mother for the experience she had in India, but not too much. More often, it’s very funny because you have a straight-laced child narrator commenting on the bizarre spiritual rituals of the adults around her. Rachel tends to be much more mature than the adults, which is a funny contrast.

What’s something you learned from this book that you never knew before?

I didn’t know anything about Meher Baba, and nothing about spiritual communes in India, so I did learn about those. I also learned some about the culture of India through Rachel’s eyes.

In six months, what do you think that you’ll remember of All the Fishes Come Home to Roost?

I think I’ll mostly remember some of the goof scenes at the ashram — people constantly chanting, holding snakes, and what not. And, Rachel’s experiences as a foreign girl in an Indian school; she wasn’t treated nicely by her classmates, but I liked the way she learned to stand up for herself.

Would you recommend this book to other readers?

Yes, I really liked this book. The narrator is likeable, the situations are interesting, and the book reads pretty quickly.

Is there anything else you’d like to add about All the Fishes Come Home to Roost?

You can read more about the book if you go to Rachel Manija Brown’s website, http://www.rachelmanijabrown.com/.

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Can you give a brief plot summary of In the Land of Invisible Women?

In the Land of Invisible Women is the memoir of a British-born, American-trained female Muslim doctor, Qanta Ahmed. After being unexpectedly denied a Visa to stay un the United States, she decided — on a whim — to continue her practise in Saudi Arabia. The book is her account of the years that she spent there, before eventually moving back home to the States, after 9/11. Lots of things are covered, from her medical practise, to aspects of Saudi culture, to the growth of her faith.

Did you enjoy the book? Why or why not?

I enjoyed it very much! I think it’s safe to say that I knew virtually nothing about Saudi Arabia before reading this book, and so I found it absolutely fascinating. Ahmed is a very engaging writer, and while her prose can be a little purple, it definitely grew on me by the end. She writes eloquently, and often with great tenderness for her subjects.

Why did you decide to read this book?

This was actually sent to me to read by the very nice Danielle at Sourcebooks — so it was a case where I was offered a book, not where I went into a store and decided to pick it up. From the description, I thought it interesting enough to try.

What scene/moment was most memorable for you?

I actually really enjoyed the chapters of the book where Qanta Ahmed goes to Mecca. It’s a definite turning point in her faith — and while I am not Muslim and cannot agree with many of its tenets, I feel like I understand it better now. It’s a very powerful section, and she wrestles with some hard questions.

Was there anything in the book that surprised you?

Well, since I’m such an inexpert on the subject — almost everything surprised me! The whole thing was quite the eye-opener for me.

Have you read other books about women in Muslim society before? Is this depiction similar or different from other books you’ve read? How?

I haven’t read much else, to tell the truth — well, there were some books in a World Lit class I took back in grade eleven or something, but I don’t really remember them. The only other book I can think of off the top of my head is Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi. That of course is a graphic novel set in Iran — so the story and the style of telling were fairly different from each other. They’re both quite good, of course.

One thing that has always struck me when reading about oppressive governments like the one in this book is that, although women are the citizens more obviously oppressed, the government also punishes men pretty harshly. Is that something you noticed in this book? How?

I think so. One of the things that Ahmed spends some significant narrative time on is the idea that Saudi men don’t really have the same outlets that Western men do. They’re “emasculated” (she uses this word a lot) by the religious police, who are extremely powerful. The country is ruled by Shari’a law, and those who transgress the law can be subject to imprisonment, beheading, and the like. There’s a culture of machismo/bravado, but no real manhood to support it underneath.

It’s sad, really — the only outlets these men seem to have are fast cars, drugs, and alcohol — the sort of thug-ism that can be seen in many of the world’s large cities (Qanta Ahmed lived in Riyadh, the capital). And there are terribly many young men dying in auto accidents.

Did this book inspire you to read more about this topic?

Yes, maybe so. I’m already set to be swamped with my school reading, but perhaps during the winter break I’ll be able to pick something up.

Is there anything else important about the book that people should know? Is there anything else you would like to add about the book?

In the Land of Invisible Women is in stores now!

Post from: She Reads Books

Weekly Geeks 16: Book Interviews!

Heather commented that

I’d love to read a review of Colbert’s book.

The one she’s referring to is Stephen Colbert’s I Am America (And So Can You). It was … amusing. I didn’t once laugh out loud, although others around me did when they read it. The book is basically just Stephen Colbert on paper instead of on TV. I do like the show, but the book elicited less of a “wow this is so funny” reaction and more of a “okay, this is vaguely funny” one.

It’s alright. I’d give it a three. I don’t think I can review it much more thoroughly than that because the copy I read lives 12 hours away.

bkclubcare had another question:

Why did you choose the What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew? Was it Austen-love or just interest in the time period? What kind of non-fiction is your preference?

I actually read this for a research paper back in the winter term. It was a Victorian Fiction course and our prof had us choose a “Victorian theme” to research throughout the year. I chose reading & books, so my first essay was about how literacy is used as a mark of gentility and a means of reform in Wuthering Heights. My second paper looked at reading trends throughout the nineteenth century, as evidenced in Wuthering Heights and … something else. Tess of the D’Urbervilles? Adam Bede? I actually just had to go look it up; it was Lady Audley’s Secret, which, for the record, is a pretty excellent book. But I read WJAAaCDK primarily for its notes on fiction and readership in the nineteenth century.

After I finished the paper, though, I did flick through most of the rest. It was exceedingly interesting. It’s subdivided into thematic chapters: The Home, Church, Education, Sex, etc., and while all of those topics certainly have entire bookshelves dedicated to them, I thought that WJAAaCDK (aside: best acronym ever? End of aside) gave each subject a very good introductory treatment. I’d recommend it.

As for which kind of non-fiction is my favourite, I’ve been on a neuroscience kick for a while now. I’m not a scientist, and so I don’t read huge technical tomes, but I greatly enjoy things written by Oliver Sacks (Musicophilia, The Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat, etc) and others like him.

Tiny Librarian asks,

I’ve never read any of Clancy’s Rabbit books. Have you read the whole series? Do you recommend them? Is it one where you need to start at the very beginning or could I start with one of the more recent ones?

I’ve read them piecemeal, and so I’ll say that it’s safe to read them out of order. In fact, their chronological and publication orders differ anyway, because Clancy went back and wrote books into earlier parts of the series — so take that as a license to read them in any old order you please. I’d more or less recommend them. Sometimes it seems as if Clancy’s always trying to put about three too many storylines into his books, but I’ve found them enjoyable overall.

Joanne asked,

And is the book What Would Dewey Do? referring to the Dewey Decimal System? Or a person named Dewey?

And then rantsandreads asked,

#62 Unshelved, by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum.
I see this book sitting around in the breakroom at my library (I am a Part-time librarian). What did you like about this book, and this author in particular? I see you’ve read multiple titles by the same authors. Are these books aimed more towards librarians, or to the general public?

Dudes. You are missing so much.

Okay, so Unshelved is a webcomic set in the Mallville Library. Go read it online. In fact, read it from the beginning. It’s so good. The drawing at the beginning is a bit crude, but it gets better over time, as do the jokes. There’s a librarian named Dewey (he of What Would Dewey Do?), a page who works in a beaver costume, a naked lawyer, and… oh, I can’t explain it. Just go add it to your rss feed. Or check out one of the collections from your library. They’re great.

(I also have to thank my cousin the sometimes-librarian for first introducing me to the series).

Joanne also asked,

Do you think that Fall On Your Knees presents a realistic portrayal of smalltown Nova Scotia?

I don’t know! I’ve never been to Nova Scotia, smalltown or not. But I see that you hail from NS — would you like to answer your own question for us?

That’s all, kiddos! Well, that’s not all, actually, but that’s all for this post. A lot of you have asked about the same few books, so look for reviews of those popping up over the next while.

Post from: She Reads Books

More Questions, More Answers

Eva says:

You make me feel so much better about having 56 to be reviewed! Most people only had a few on their list.

A ha ha. Why yes, they did. I will assume that I read more books, since it’s so obvious that I’m not just super lazy at reviewing. Ahem.

Eva also asked some other stuff:

What did you think about Asleep? I’ve been thinking about reading Banana Yoshimoto for awhile, mainly because of her name, lol.

Asleep was interesting. Like most of the books I’ve read that have been translated from the Japanese, the language was very formal — I’m not sure if that’s a translation thing or a Japanese writing thing. It was a pretty quick read; it’s a shortish book and it’s split into three separate stories, each focusing on a different young woman with some sleep wackiness going on. I sent the book to someone so I’ll have to see if I can just remember, but I think the stories are about a woman who starts sleepwalking after a breakup, a woman who’s having an affair with a man whose wife is in a coma, and a woman who believes she is being haunted in her sleep by another woman with whom she used to share (yes: share) a man. Asleep is pretty weird, actually. But it’s an enjoyable sort of weird. I’d recommend it.

It might also be worth pointing that I also started reading Banana Yoshimoto because of her name. Best pseudonym ever? I think so.

Jackie asked,

I’ve seen the trailers for V for Vendetta and it looks really good. Is the novel better than the movie? Did the produces stick pretty close to the book? How would you describe this novel to someone who hasn’t come across it before?

I haven’t see the movie version of V for Vendetta either, so I can’t really answer the first part of this question. But my brother did! Here’s his take:

The graphic novel is better than the movie. The movie is also really good, and sticks fairly closely to the story. It does cut a few minor plotlines (mainly for time reasons), but it’s still quite good.

For the most overall enjoyment, I’d suggest seeing the movie first, and then reading the graphic novel. That way, you won’t be disappointed with the changes the movie makes.

Thanks, dude. As to the last part of Jackie’s question, I’m not sure how I would describe the novel to someone who hadn’t come across it. That would depend on whether they were familiar with graphic novels in general, I think — because if not, then you have to start at the beginning (“Okay, so it’s like a comic book, but really thick, and not really a comic book because it’s all wordy and has more plot, but there are still lots of pictures, you should see the way the setting is set with just a single panel sometimes…”).

But if they were familiar with the genre, that’s more to build on. And then I’d have to start using words like “dystopia” and “alternate history” and “gritty” and “dark” and “deeply disturbing, but also kind of weirdly inspiring.” It’s definitely literature that makes you think. And I’ll warn those who are usually called “more sensitive readers”: the “graphic” in “graphic novel” is, in this case, apt on several different levels.

Nymeth had a follow-up V for Vendetta question:

Also, do you think that V for Vendetta would be a good introduction to Alan Moore?

This is the first Alan Moore I’ve ever read — so I have to say yes!

bkclubcare asked about my reading habits:

I see a lot by same authors – do you plan it that way or just get on a roll and can’t stop? I personally have to switch it up and do not like to see trends in style – it makes me analyze the author rather than the story.

It’s a combination of planning and inertia, I think. With some authors, there’s a definite pattern: Terry Pratchett is the most obvious example. We only discovered Pratchett in my house last Christmas (I know! Such literary deprivation!) and at least three of us are bound and determined to read them all. We’ve made a good dent, I think!

Sometimes it’s a lot more random. There’s all of the first part of the Chronicles of Amber on my list; I decided to reread the series on a whim and knocked them all back in two days. There’s a lot of Elizabeth George up there as well; when I helped a friend move some months ago I got to pick through the books she didn’t want anymore. I like mysteries and so I jump-started my George reading that way. Since then I’ve picked a few up second-hand, one new, and read another one or two that are in our office library. So I’ve read a lot of her books, but I’ve read them piecemeal.

As well, I’m doing an English degree, and a lot of the books I read are on compulsory reading lists. I still take pleasure in reading most of them — but all the same, I have to do it!

Speaking of series, Joanne wants to know,

What a fantastic list – you have a lot of Discworld novels there so I’m assuming you would recommend it as a good series to read, but is it necessary to read them in order?

Not at all! In fact, I would recommend skipping The Colour of Magic entirely, or at least holding off on it for a good long while. It’s funny but it’s not nearly as good or as funny or as smart as Pratchett’s later work, and I think that if you read it first you might get a skewed impression of what Discworld books are like. I’ve read them all completely out of order, and I don’t think I’ve suffered for it. They all stand alone very well. If you’d like to start reading Pratchett, I’d personally recommend any of the following as good places to start: Night Watch, Soul Music, Jingo, Feet of Clay, or Monstrous Regiment. But actually, just read any of them. Read them! They’re so good!

(Incidentally, this is probably why I don’t review Pratchett very often: because most of the time I think it would just turn into AAAAAA TERRY PRATCHETT IS A GENIUS HE MAKES ME LOL SO MUCH ROFL ROFL ROFL. Which is not particularly informative.)

So that’s part one! I hope to answer more questions over the next few days — and write some longer reviews as requested. And if there’s more you want to know, it’s not too late to ask (on this post, or that post, or any other really).

Post from: She Reads Books

You Asked; I’ll Tell

So, here is the giant list of books I have read but not reviewed:

1. V for Vendetta, by Alan Moore.
2. Great Canadian Short Stories, ed. Alec Lucas.
3. Letters to Karen, by Charlie W. Shedd.
4. Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett.
5. Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett.
6. Smilla’s Sense of Snow, by Peter Høeg.
7. Absolution by Murder, by Peter Tremayne.
8. Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife, by Kate Walker.
9. What If . . . ?, by Steve N. Lee.
10. Who Do You Think You Are?, by Alice Munro.
11. The Roaring Girl, by Thomas Middleton and Thomas Dekker.
12. Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett.
13. Tess of the D’Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy.
14. If Only They Could Talk, by James Herriott.
15. Whitethorn, by Bryce Courtenay.
16. What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, by Daniel Pool.
17. Ellis Island and Other Stories, by Mark Helprin.
18. Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett.
19. Jingo, by Terry Pratchett.
20. The King’s Daughter, by Suzanne Martel.
21. Red Rabbit, by Tom Clancy.
22. Sourcery, by Terry Pratchett.
23. Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood, by Marjane Satrapi.
24. Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett.
25. Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett.
26. Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett.
27. Nine Princes in Amber, by Roger Zelazny.
28. The Guns of Avalon, by Roger Zelazny.
29. Sign of the Unicorn, by Roger Zelazny.
30. The Hand of Oberon, by Roger Zelazny.
31. The Courts of Chaos, by Roger Zelazny.
32. Little House in the Big Woods, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
33. Little House on the Prairie, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
34. On the Banks of Plum Creek, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
35. Farmer Boy, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
36. By the Shores of Silver Lake, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
37. The Long Winter, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
38. These Happy Golden Years, by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
39. Four Fires, by Bryce Courtenay.
40. Victory Conditions, by Elizabeth Moon.
41. Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett.
42. Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett.
43. I Am America (and So Can You), by Stephen Colbert.
44. Thief of Time, by Terry Pratchett.
45. The Princes of Ireland, by Edward Rutherfurd.
46. The Grass is Singing, by Doris Lessing.
47. Journey to Cubeville, by Scott Adams.
48. The Togakushi Legend Murders, by Yasuo Uchida.
49. Jennifer Government, by Max Barry.
50. Carpe Jugulum, by Terry Pratchett.
51. Gaudy Night, by Dorothy L. Sayers.
52. Fall on Your Knees, by Ann-Marie MacDonald.
53. Asleep, by Banana Yoshimoto.
54. The News from Paraguay, by Lily Tuck.
55. The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett.
56. Girl Meets God, by Lauren F. Winner.
57. Agnes Grey, by Anne Brontë.
58. Storm Glass, by Jane Urqhart.
59. Deception on His Mind, by Elizabeth George.
60. A Place of Hiding, by Elizabeth George.
61. Making Money, by Terry Pratchett.
62. Unshelved, by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum.
63. Library Mascot Cage Match, by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum.
64. Read Responsibly, by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum.
65. Thud!, by Terry Pratchett.
66. What Would Dewey Do?, by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum.
67. Lolita, by Vladimir Nabukov.
68. Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett.
69. Hogfather, by Terry Pratchett.
70. Mort, by Terry Pratchett.
71. Maskerade, by Terry Pratchett.
72. Monstrous Regiment, by Terry Pratchett.
73. Playing for the Ashes, by Elizabeth George.
74. What Would Wally Do? by Scott Adams.
75. Piercing the Darkness, by Frank Peretti.

I know: it’s ridiculous. Seventy-five books languishing, unreviewed? Practically criminal. But here’s where you can help.

In the comments, ask me questions about any books you wish, and/or pick a few books you’d like me to review. I’ll answer those questions and review the books — and drop a link to the appropriate person as I do so.

I’d love to hear from you!

Post from: She Reads Books

Weekly Geeks 12: Languishing, Unreviewed

This week’s Weekly Geek has to do with other forms of storytelling — stories outside of books, that is. I’ve chosen oral storytelling.

In my family, we have a history of oral storytelling. When my brothers and I were young, we’d get read a story or stories every night before bed — the three of us crowded onto one big water-bed, along with a parent (usually our mom). Mostly we’d read books, but sometimes, we’d tell stories: stories about Joey and Davy.

Now, I don’t want to get too far into who Joey and Davy are, and what they do (because, you know, it’s a family thing). But the basics are thus: Joey and Davy Ookembooki are brothers. They are each an inch tall. They live with their parents, Allegra and I-forget-the-dad’s-name Ookembooki. They have adventures. Many much adventures.

The interesting thing about Joey and Davy stories, I think, besides their obvious hilarity, is the way that they’ve transferred from teller to teller. Mom told the first Joey and Davy story, but soon Dad told them too. We taught how to tell Joey and Davy stories to one of our babysitters (and to this day, we remember particularly funny lines from many of his versions). One of our grandmothers has been known to tell them.

Things change when these stories are told by different people. Not only the situations are different, but the characters change too. I think it was only after our babysitter started telling the stories that it became clear that Joey talks like this and Davy talks like this. When my grandmother told her first story, Joey and Davy were invisible, which they never were before or since. When my Mom told the stories, Yo-Yo Ma would often feature, and probably none of us remember how or why that started — but it ends up being very funny.

There’s a neat flexibility to oral tales — as I’m sure we’ve all experienced (ever notice how your last adventure gets slightly more fantastical every time you tell it?). They’re very different than bookish stories which, once set on paper, are largely inflexible. And it’s cool seeing how people can take the same basic idea — two very very small brothers — and do very creative and different things with that idea.

Did your family tell stories?

Post from: She Reads Books

Weekly Geek 5: Storytelling

I was reading over at things mean a lot, and Nymeth posted a Weekly Geek about The Diary of Anne Frank, one of her childhood favourites. That made me remember that the same book was a favourite of mine when I was about the same age. Which in turn made me remember that I had had classmates who had also read that book at about the same age. Which made me think about the books I had read for school as a child, and realize that while I’ve entirely forgotten some of them, others I remember quite vividly, even though it’s been years and years since I’ve picked them up or even thought of them.

One example is The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, which google tells me is by Avi. Our English class read this in grade seven or grade eight, I don’t remember which. I think probably it was grade seven. I haven’t read this book since then, but I remember a lot about it. Thirteen-year-old Charlotte Doyle gets put on a ship to cross the Atlantic (though I don’t remember why), and over the course of the novel wonderful adventurous things happen, including a mutiny (led by Charlotte, as I recall), and in the end Charlotte cuts off her hair and runs away to sea.  It was enthralling.

Our teacher used to read the texts out loud in class, sometimes making us take turns reading out loud as well. I got in minor trouble one day for not knowing where we were in the story when I got called upon to read — but that was because I had been silently reading ahead. Since then, I’ve learned to keep track of where everyone else is at even when I’m reading ahead (a very useful skill which I recommend to you now).

The next year, assuming that Charlotte Doyle was for grade seven, we read Gary Paulson’s Hatchet. I still have a hatred for this book. From what I recall, Paulson writes like this:

He was sad. Sad. Sad because of the divorce. His parents were divorcing. It made him sad. The divorce made him sad.

Eurgh! I remember feeling quite indignant & insulted that we had to read it — and I also remember that the front of the book placed the text at a grade five reading level. That probably explains both the stilted prose and my violent dislike of the thing. I also recall a conversation with my mother in which I expressed my desire to burn my copy. It definitely wasn’t a hit. [I mentioned Hatchet to my mother, as she walked in just now. Her eye-roll was impressive].

That same year (I think) we read The Giver, by Lois Lowry. This was another book that I loved, and I wrote an essay on it. There are a lot of scenes that I remember: the main character’s dream about Fiona, the way he is chosen to be his community’s next memory-keeper, the chase scene at the end where the two boys have to lie down and remember all they can about snow and coldness in an effort not to be seen by heat-seeking equipment, Fiona’s job at the old people’s home, the moment when the main character starts to see in colour … lots of things. From what I recall, it’s a fantastic and a chilling text, and a hopeful one. And librarything tells me that this is actually the first in a trilogy — I had no idea — and that is tremendously exciting.

What else, what else? There was a French book about a girl with retrograde amnesia . . . there was a book about pioneers I read for a project in grade three . . . there was Le Petit Prince. I remember a grade five book report on The Phantom Tollbooth. And I remember the same grade five teacher disbelieving my claim to be reading The Tower of Geburah because it was so large (it’s 400 pages long and remains a favourite to this day). Other than that it gets kinda fuzzy, at least as far as for-school books are concerned. My friends and I did tear through Babysitters Club and V. C. Andrews novels.

I only remember one of the Babysitter novels with any clarity, because I remember thinking one of the characters was pretty stupid on account of a particular incident: she cooked rice wrong because she didn’t know what “codes” like tsp and Tbsp and “simmer” meant, and so she wrote a long rambling letter to the rice company, full of digressions like

“I’m writing to you from my room at the big house. The big house is the one I live in sometimes with my father and my step-mother and my step-sisters, and the little house is where I live sometimes with my mom. I have two pairs of everything, one pair at each house, because my parents are divorced …. blah, blah, blah”

That section of the book, at least, was pretty tedious. Oh, and there was another one where a girl who did badly at school studied really hard and got a good grade, but the teacher thought she cheated off of the smart girl, but then they did a retest and it turned out that the smart girl had cheated off the usually dumb girl, and then everyone was happy, except for the actual cheater. The end.

We also read books by Diane Duane, whose name is pretty interesting, I think.

What books did you read in elementary or middle school? Did any of them stick with you?

Post from: She Reads Books

Weekly Geeks 3: Childhood Books

Anyway, this week’s Weekly Geeks theme is Discover New Blogs Week! (I think the exclamation mark is mandatory). Here are five blogs I’ve discovered & enjoyed:

Stuff as Dreams are Made On (Chris). Lots of science fiction and fantasy talk, so it’s right up my alley!

Bookstack (ravenous reader). I also suffer from notebookism.

Maw Books (Natasha). Smart reviews and baby pictures, to boot.

Bibliolatry. The first post I saw was a book joke with chickens in it. What more can you ask for?

So Many Book Reviews (JanieJane). She found me through Weekly Geeks. I found her through Weekly Geeks. It’s like a little circle of geek love.

Edited to add:

Here are some cool people who have linked to me (and let me know). Give them a look, too!

Random Wonder

Saving My Sanity

Post from: She Reads Books

Weekly Geeks 1