Of Books and Boys and Other Stuff » mullings

Favorite Reads of 2009

W.H. Beck — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 04:03:32 +0000

According to my bookshelf on Goodreads, I read 143 books in 2009. It’s actually more than that because I didn’t start adding to Goodreads until partway through the year. The rest of my list is here. But anyway… I gave 18 of them 5 stars. They are:

So you’d think these would be my favorites of 2009, right? Um, kind of. While I do still really like all of these books, when I consider my favorite-favorites, I always think about how much the book stuck with me. How much I remember it later. How much I’ve thought about it since I finished it. To me, those are the Truly Best Stories. And those are here:

And just in case you can’t read the covers, that’d be…

All the World

The Mistress of the Art of Death

One World, One Day

The Frog Scientist

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

When the Whistle Blows

Beka Cooper

The Dunderheads

Heart of a Shepherd

Ain’t Nothing But a Man

Ways to Live Forever

Home of the Brave

What’s Your Secret Site?

W.H. Beck — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 12:00:50 +0000

Husband and I were talking about this with friends this weekend. Do you have a a place online that you frequent regularly–but that would surprise everyone to know about? (And no, I’m not talking about THOSE kind of websites. I’m a children’s librarian, for heaven’s sake! Please don’t spoil my innocence.)

My website confession was this one: the Wisconsin Almanac. I don’t farm, hunt, fish, or even take care of my yard very well. But every week, I find myself checking in to see how Wisconsin crops are doing (look!: manure hauling was slowed by wet weather last week, but apples and potatoes are in fine shape), what I should be doing to my lawn and garden (fertilizing and planting bulbs), and how the seasons are changing around me (salmon are slowing down, but spiders are active and “ballooning”–remember that scene from Charlotte’s Web?). I don’t do anything with this information each week (as, sadly, my lawn can attest), but I love perusing it and knowing the bigger picture of the world outside my window. And I keep coming back to it every week.

So…what’s your secret site?

Nonfiction Monday

W.H. Beck — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 02:18:28 +0000

So, when I get super busy (i.e. during the school week) I tend to read nonfiction. It’s perfect for my drained mind and snippets of time. Not that nonfiction is light reading. But I do read it differently than fiction. I begin with a quick flip through the illustrations and their captions. Then a scan of chapter titles and headings. Then I settle right in with whatever looked the most promising, whether it’s on page one or page 100. Sometimes I read the whole book; other times it’s just pieces. But that’s part of what’s so great about nonfiction. You can read it like this and it still makes sense.

So the question that begs to be asked–in these end-of-the-month-book-reports time at school–is: Am I still reading the book if I only read most of it? Or if I don’t read it in order from first page to last? What do you think? Some teachers would have a very hard time answering this.

Whether you call it reading the whole book or not, here are some recent reads of mine that are definitely worth taking a look at:

Darwin by Alice B. McGinty

Handwritten words of Charles Darwin show the evolution of his idea of the survival of the fittest.

The Story of Salt by Mark Kurlansky

The history of salt–from rock to seasoning to the revolutions and wars that have been fought over it. I had no idea.

Saving the Ghost of the Mountain: An Expedition Among Snow Leopards in Mongolia by Sy Montgomery

Rare snow leopards! In Mongolia! With photos by Nic Bishop!

The Frog Scientist by Pamela S. Turner

Mr. E and Colonel Mustard are Frog People, so we loved this book on the race to save frogs around the world from pesticides and pollution. The teacher in me loved the overview of the scientific process and also the multicultural cast of scientists. (The frogs are pretty cute, too.)

One World, One Day by Barbara Kerley

After returning from China recently, this book–about how kids all over the world are so different and yet, so the same–really hit home.

Big, Bigger, Biggest! by Nancy Coffelt

Big, bigger, biggest…large, huge, enormous, gigantic! I’m handing this book to my Six Traits writing teachers for their next “word choice” lesson.

Every Reader Tells a Story

W.H. Beck — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 12:00:49 +0000

I first read this phrase as a blog post over on the Book Whisperer’s blog. She talked about how everybody has a story about how they came to reading. (Or even, as I thought at the time, a story about how or why they didn’t come to reading. These stories, I suspect, may be even more interesting.) But anyway, the Book Whisperer asked people to share their stories. I loved reading everyone’s responses. And, of course, I also got to thinking about my own reading story. It goes as follows:

I first came to reading at midnight—with a newspaper and a bowl of cherries.

I was very young, still wearing diapers at night, when I first became a reader. No, I wasn’t a child prodigy. I am simply the oldest child in my family, so when I was little, my dad was still in medical school. He’d come home at night, way late, exhausted from his rounds at the hospital. And every night, my mom would have dinner—and me—waiting for him.

My dad would eat, then he’d retreat to the scratchy olive green plaid couch in the living room. And I’d scramble up next to him. We’d wedge a bowl of cherries between us, and then, with a waft of ink and a slight breeze on my face, my dad would flick open the newspaper. That simple twitch of his wrist would seal us off from the rest of the world, in a place where just the two of us existed, snuggling and snacking on those red-black cherries.

I don’t remember my dad reading to me as he looked at the paper. Most likely he didn’t. After all, it’s hard to read aloud when you’re spitting out cherry pits. All I remember is knowing that if I kept quiet enough and kept looking like I was reading, too, I’d get to stay up later. And snuggle longer. And eat more cherries. Already, I knew that reading was something so significant, so special and so…juicy, it broke all the normal rules.

Eventually, our late nights had an affect on me. Besides needing a good, long nap each day at most other people’s dinner time, I knew something else about reading and me. I had sat there long enough, watching my dad and staring at the black and white columns of the newspaper, that I felt like I was reading, too—just as much as my dad was.

And that’s how, years before I actually learned to read a word, I became a reader. Because knowing you are a reader counts much more in a person’s “reading story” than word decoding skills, comprehension scores, or lexile levels. I knew that reading was important. And I knew that reading was something I did. And with that, my little preschooler brain was primed for future reading adventures.

My reading story. A bowl of fruit, current events, and my reader dad—way, way past any kid’s normal bedtime.

What’s yours?

(cherries picture thanks to IH on Flickr Creative Commons)

Stand By Me

W.H. Beck — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 12:05:03 +0000

You would think that after 14 years of working in schools I would know that I’m not actually going to get anything done in the library on my teacher work days.

Yes, it’s Labor Day, and I’m heading into work to finish up a few things for my classes tomorrow.

Anyway, one of my favorite things of the first week of school last week was this video, shown in our all-district meeting. It’s from Playing for Change–a documentary where they got street musicians from all over the world to collaborate on the same songs.

Enjoy.

In Which I Return From the East

W.H. Beck — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 14:50:33 +0000

(Although I flew west to get there. But whatever.) I’m back from China! We have literally thousands of photos and tons of what we think are amusing anecdotes, but I’ll keep it simple here:

Top 10 Memories

Climbing the Great Wall at Mutianyu. This was special for many reasons, one of which was that it was one of the only places we went that wasn’t elbow-to-elbow crowded. But mostly, amazing views.

Husband and me on the Wall.

Experiencing my baby brother as our fearless leader. I’m much older than him–he was still in diapers when I left home, so it was great to see how smart, gracious, and independent he is. He and his fiancee were excellent tour guides. Also, huge thanks to her family for their hospitality. I know our trip was way beyond the typical tourist visit and it’s thanks to them.

Baby Bro and me, Big Sis.

Listening to the buzz of cicadas at the Linyin Monastery and West Lake in Hangzhou. So peaceful. So serene. So green. And so wet.

Right before it poured rain on us. But, no matter–in China you can buy an umbrella for $1.50!

Being a minority. We got stares everywhere we went. Parents nudging children, teenagers asking to take their picture with us. One guy crashed his bike, he looked over his shoulder at us for so long.

One of several random photo requests.

Fighting the masses at the Forbidden City. Have I mentioned all the people? I was most excited to see the Forbidden City, but I hadn’t imagined the crowds and the pushing and the heat. Nothing like sharing sweat with a few thousand strangers. But it still was amazing.

Entering the main gate.

Visiting a seven-story bookstore in downtown Shanghai. !!!!

Outside the store. Cameras were prohibited inside. Not sure why.

Dodging Typhoon Moracot. Was it on the news here in the U.S.? Because we were watching the weather very, very carefully there.

We flew to Beijing the day before it was supposed to hit Shanghai.

Lunching at one of the snazziest restaurants in Shanghai. Gold plates! Our own room! Icy lemonade drinks with green oranges in them! Thank you, Baby Brother’s generous bosses.

Bosses, co-workers, and Husband top row. Baby Bro, Fiancee, Sister, and me in the front.

And later that same day…dining with Baby Brother’s fiancee’s grandmother. In her home, while she cooked for us and told us about her family and all the changes they’ve been through since she was a little girl in pre-Communist times.

The whole gang, plus Grandma, in the best of our timer shots.

Biking at Century Park in Shanghai. This was just pure silly fun in a gorgeous park, complete with water fountains synced to music. A perfect end to our trip.

Our fearless leaders before they broke the rental bike.

Top 5 Things I Missed and Now Have a New Appreciation For

Waiting in line. They don’t do lines where we were. Even if it’s obvious you are the next–and only–person waiting for the bathroom.

Coffee. I went two weeks without coffee. When I told Mr. E and Colonel Mustard, their eyes went big.

Toilet paper. You need a well-stocked purse to travel in China. Enough said.

Dairy products. I guess I really am a Wisconsin girl at heart.

Clothes dryers. If you only have four outfits and they haven’t dried by the fourth day because it’s too humid, do you know what that means?

There’s lots, lots more, but I’ll save the rest for those of you who physically cross my path (you’ve been warned!). Also, I hope to put together a video for my students about life in China. I’ll post that here, if it turns out to be something shareable.