Recently finished: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, which was a compelling read I wrote in detail about earlier this week.  Also, a charming Great Depression era juvenile audiobook called R My Name Is Rachel, by the clever and prolific kid lit author Patricia Reilly Giff.

Currently in progress: The hilarious Mindy Kaling’s (of The Office fame) book of essays, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?  I’ve also started listening to the Chronicles of Avonlea, a collection of short stories by L.M. Montgomery that revisits the characters from the Anne novels (including Anne Shirley herself).  The brilliance of these seems to be that they take place concurrently with the novels, so we get more glimpses of Anne’s mischievous youth.  I’ve also been spending the last few weeks drifing in and out of Austen-land – I’ve worked my way through both Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, and I’m now listening to Emma.  I’ve also got a copy of Agatha Christie’s A Murder Is Announced sitting around, and have been reading a few pages at a time here and there.

About to start: I’m looking forward to John Green’s The Fault In Our Stars, which did (finally) safely arrive last week.  Otherwise, your guess is as good as mine.  We’ll just have to see…

What are you working on?

Oskar Schell, our protagonist, does in fact lose his father in the World Trade Center attacks.  A quirky nine-year-old — a vegan pacifist who writes letters to Stephen Hawking — Oskar is at a total loss in how to deal with the death of his father.  Upon finding a key seemingly hidden in a vase in his father’s closet, he makes it his mission to journey throughout New York in search of the lock it opens.

It’s easy to assume going into this novel that the tragedy of September 11 is at the core of the story; in reality, though, it’s simply tragedy that is at the core.  Though Foer uses this particular event as the catalyst for the novel’s conflict, the story is really about the characters: who they are, how they react, what they’re searching for.  Foer treats the World Trade Center attacks movingly, and in doing so, establishes Oskar’s journey within a specific context; however, the journey itself – a journey much more about how a boy deals with the loss of a father, rather than how the loss occurred – is what makes the book so engrossing.  Well, the journey and the character — Oskar is a bizarre but endearing kid; his life is well defined by sets of rules he has established for himself, and his odd combination of intellect and innocence is striking.  With Oskar, Foer has somehow created a voice that seems both implausible and genuine.

But Oskar doesn’t get all of our attention.  Wound within his story is that of his grandparents; told through letters, we read about their own experiences with love and tragedy.  Though jarring at times, the transitions into these voices provide a larger context for Oskar’s story and weave a sadly beautiful tale of hurt and heartbreak.

All in all, Foer’s novel is much more about people than an event, and much more about resilience than loss.  I hope to read more from him; it’s rare to find such compelling characters with such sincere voices.

I know nothing about this book.  Not the basic plotline, not the names of the characters.  Nothing except that it was written by John Green, whose work I’ve developed a total fascination with over the last few years.  I first randomly picked up one of his books in 2010 and have read four of his novels over the past year and a half, with not a disappointment in the bunch. His ability to combine the real and the ridiculous, the quirky and the authentic is unlike any other writer I know.

Thanks to a Christmas Barnes and Noble gift card, I preordered The Fault in Our Stars and am eagerly awaiting its arrival later this week.  (Also in the order? The Penderwicks at Point Mouette, which will round out my Pernderwicks collection, and a BN Classics copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, which I was surprised to find I didn’t have a good copy of in the house.)   I promise to report back soon.  In the meantime, if you haven’t read any of John Green’s other work yet, I would definitely recommend doing so.

I also spent some time perusing my library’s downloadable audiobooks and Kindle books and coming up with some good finds.  On audio, I downloaded Dickens’ David Copperfield; Spinelli’s Love, Stargirl; Rinaldi’s The Fifth of March; Collins’ The Women in White; and Mongomery’s Chronicles of Avalon, to name a few.  In Kindle books, I found McCall Smith’s 44 Scotland Street and Keyes’ Anybody Out There.  Of course, the problem now is choosing what to start with – any suggestions?  What are you kicking off your 2012 reading with?

But before we move on to 2012, I want to take a quick look back on my reading of 2011.  Though my writing was considerably lighter than the previous year, my reading didn’t fall off all that much.  Here are a few figures (keeping in mind that my definition of “read” includes audiobooks):

Books read: 60
Read for the first time: 44
Rereads: 16
Juvenile/Young Adult: 35
Nonfiction: 8
Newly published in 2011: 7

Considering 2010′s numbers, no huge shifts in my reading habits.  My juvenile/YA reading was up a bit, mainly on the juvenile side of things I think.  My nonfiction numbers were a bit higher (especially considering my overall reading was lower) as well.  But overall, my full list of read-in-2011 included my usual mix of classic and contemporary, novels and memoirs, and lit for kids and adults.

That doesn’t mean there weren’t a few notable discoveries for the year, both in terms of great books and great characters.  My travels this fall introduced me to two sets of very different characters, both of which I can see myself returning to again and again when wanting to slip into comfort and familiarity.

The first of these was the Penderwick family.  Written by Jeanne Birdsall, the Penderwick books follow four young sisters through various adventures.  They are absolutely charming and exactly the type of book meant to be shared with a whole family.  It only took me a few pages to become captivated by Rosalind, Skye, Jane, and Batty, and I worked my way through all three of the books on audio in no time at all.  Birdsall writes with warmth and humor, and though relatively recent (the third came out this year), the books convey a timelessness of childhood that convinces me they’re going to be appreciated for years to come.

The second discovery came through a reacquaintance of an author I’ve enjoyed before.  I first read – and loved – Agatha Christie at the age of 12, but her use of repeating characters (and my compulsion to read the books of repeating characters in the order they were written) has always made me pause before picking up her books.  But somehow I stumbled upon the first collection of stories that Miss Marple appears in, and I’ve been hooked since.  I’ve now made my way through two Miss Marple novels as well (yes, in order!), and brought the next two home from the library with me Friday.

I’m really bad at picking favorites from the past year – for one, because I feel like I read such a range of books, and for another, I’m usually enamored by whatever crossed my path most recently – but there were a few individual book standouts as well.  Bossypants by Tina Fey was absolutely hilarious.  I’m not sure what else to say about that, except that she reads it herself on the audio version, which only makes it that much more worthwhile.  Another standout (and falling into the category of recently enamored by) was The Invention of Hugo Cabret.  I first saw – and fell in love with – the movie Hugo before even being aware the book existed.  The movie had such a magical quality to it – and upon discovering the book, which fell into our hands in a Christmas exchange, I now understand where that magic came from.  Brian Selznick won the Caldecott in 2008 for his beautifully illustrated book, which is a novel told in both pictures and words.  If you haven’t read it and/or seen the movie yet, I would recommend doing both as soon as you can.

There were plenty of other great books that crossed my path this year that I’m a little sad I haven’t written about: Moon Over Manifest, The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, High Fidelity, and The Prize-Winner of Defiance, Ohio, to name a few.  But I’m going to focus on looking forward to the books to come in 2012 instead.  Here are just a few I’m looking forward to tackling:

What are you looking forward to?

I, too, have been reading, but blogging has been light lately (read: non-existant) because of summer travels and another move (same city, new house) and work business.   I’m not making any promises about writing more regularly here anytime soon, but if you want to keep up with what I’m reading (or re-reading), I do keep my Goodreads pretty up-to-date.  But here’s a quick summary of my recent finishes:

- A Visit From the Goon Squad was pretty great.  A bit perplexing at times; Egan plays with point of view and time throughout the novel, but overall, I found it to both playful and thoughtful and very satisfying.

- The Penderwicks was an absolutely charming children’s novel, with great characters that I definitely intend to follow into their next adventures.

- Wives and Daughters was a comforting, enjoyable read.  It doesn’t offer the depth of its contemporary Middlemarch, but for fans of Eliot and Austen, it’s a similar look at characters and their relationships in a time period I love to become absorbed in.

- The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio was absolutely wonderful.  My husband and I listened to it on vacation, and in addition to the fun of recognizing various locations throughout Northwest Ohio as they’re mentioned, the book itself is heartfelt and, at times, hilarious.

What have you been working on?

Recently finished – I wrapped up both Freedom  and the third Flavia de Luce recently, which was better than the second but still not quite as good as the first.  Still, a charming series overall that I definitely plan to stick with as new installments come out.  My final impressions of Freedom weren’t terribly different than my initial ones.  A few of the characters did become more sympathetic, but never quite likable, and I didn’t quite see the level of literary genius that I felt has been so often proclaimed of Franzen.  Overall, it was a decent read, one that was timely and witty, but not one that has considerably impacted my life or even my month.

Currently in progress – I’ve been listening intermittently (on long car trips) to Tracy Kidder’s Mountains Beyond Mountains with my husband.  He was assigned some of Paul Farmer’s writings, which are largely academic but very interesting nonetheless, for one of his graduate courses, and we listened to Infections and Inequalities together on a car trip during his spring semester.  Infections and Inequalities was thought-provoking and intriguing, and I’m glad I listened to it with him, but because of that academic slant, I probably wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who didn’t have a serious interest in infectious diseases or health care or developing nations in some way.  But Paul Farmer, a physician anthropologist, is a fascinating person who does monumental work, and Mountains Beyond Mountains  is a look at both his life and his work that I think just about anyone could enjoy and appreciate.  Kidder paints a picture of Farmer and his work in Haiti that is absolutely compelling…and completely humbling.

I’ve also started reading Jennifer Egan’s Pulitzer-prize winning A Visit From the Good Squad.  I’m not far in yet, but I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read.  I’m also about two-thirds of the way through Sloane Crosley’s second book of essays, How Did You Get This Number?   I had my reservations about her first collection, but either this is a stronger outing or her voice is growing on me, because I’m appreciating this one more.  She’s probably the first writer of this genre I’ve read that I share a generational framework with, and I’m feeling that come through more distinctly this time around.

About to start: I recently received a signed copy of Ann Rinaldi’s The Last Full Measure through a blog giveaway.  Rinaldi was one of my go-to young adult authors during my own adolescence, and while I haven’t kept up with her books as much in recent years, it was still a thrill to win a signed copy.  I’m looking forward to reading it soon.

But that may be about all I have time for in the coming weeks (if that, even), because June is looking to be a busy month.  With the birthdays of my husband, two sisters, and father-in-law all within two weeks, it’s always eventful, but this year we’re adding in the college graduation of my baby sister and the wedding of my middle sister.   The next few weeks will be filled with dinners and parties and presents (sadly, none of which will be for me).  And hopefully sunshine.  Lots of sunshine.  Because otherwise, all those other things get kind of complicated.  (Fingers crossed, everybody!)

So… Congratulations, Meg!  Read Mountains Beyond Mountains – it’ll show you what people can do if they’re passionate and committed to an idea.  (Though don’t hold yourself to Farmer’s standards…that’s just a recipe for depression.)

And best wishes, Katy and Steven!  I would recommend NOT taking Freedom (or any of the other books on this list) with you as a beach read on your honeymoon…savor your time together, treasure each other, and keep your reading light.  You’ll have to come back to the real world soon enough.

There’s no doubt that Franzen is a remarkable writer with a knack for understated social commentary. I’m maybe 10% of the way into the book, but this is already clearly evident.  He doesn’t pull any punches, but just jumps into a no-nonsense description of Patty and Walter Berglund, the couple whom our story revolves around, creating a clear picture of them and their life — their good intentions, their struggles with their son, conflicts with their neighbors — as an objective observer might.  The thing about this perspective, though, is that I don’t really develop any sort of attachment to the characters.  And maybe I’m not supposed to; that impersonal point of view gives me the sense that this is pretty intentional.  But while I appreciate the skill of the storyteller in the moment I’m listening to it, the draw to return to the story is not particularly strong. It’s the type of book that I can see myself having every intention of finishing but then getting distracted somewhere along the way, pulled into a different book in which I feel invested in the characters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  I only started this a couple of days ago, and I do, in fact, have every intention of finishing it, though I’m not yet sure yet whether I’ll stay with it on audio or switch to a paper version.  And there’s always the chance that as I get further into the book, the character attachment will begin to develop.  And if you’ve read any Franzen, let me know if you think these early impressions are spot on, or if I’m going to be surprised as I move forward.

Recently finished: Wit’s End  and The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag, both of which I’d been working on for some time.  Wit’s End is a witty, quirky read by Karen Joy Fowler.  Finding herself the sole survivor of her immediate family, 28-year-old Rima comes to stay with her mystery-writing godmother in Santa Cruz.  The plot here isn’t particularly strong, but the juxtaposition of a range of characters (both those Rima interacts with as well as the ones in her godmother’s books) and the writing itself makes for an engaging read.  The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag is the second Flavia de Luce adventure.  I wrote about my impressions of Flavia a few weeks ago; while I don’t think the second installment is quite as strong as the first, they largely hold true.

I’ve also just finished Crazy U: One Dad’s Crash Course on Getting His Kid Into College, an A.J. Jacobs-ish work where a journalist father (Andrew Ferguson) documents his family’s endeavors as his son applies to selective schools throughout the country.  This one is probably primarily of interest to parents (and maybe teens) about to embark on this process or to higher ed professionals like me, but it was nicely done, and I may write more about it later.  The last of my recently finished is 13 Little Blue Envelopes, a young adult novel by Maureen Johnson, whom I definitely plan to read more by.

In progress: Still moving through The Children’s Book, which might just be the longest audio book I’ve ever attempted — or at least it feels that way.  (It’s probably not actually longer than Middlemarch.)  I think I’m approaching the end, though, and it’s current journey through World War I is possibly the most moving portion of the novel thus far.

About to start: I’ve preordered the about-to-be-released follow-up to 13 Little Blue Envelopes, but that won’t be coming out till next Tuesday.  In the meantime, I may jump into the third Flavia novel, A Red Herring Without Mustard.

What are you working on?

Drag may not be the best word — I’m sincerely enjoying all three, and each is charming in its own way.  I want to finish them.  I just don’t seem to be able to — or at least not quickly.

Currently, I’m (still) reading both Karen Fowler’s Wit’s End and Alan Bradley’s The Week that Strings the Hangman’s Bag (an incredibly awkward and hard-to-remember title, which is why I’m generally thinking of it as the second Flavia book), which I started 3 and 1 months ago respectively, and I’m (still) listening to The Children’s Book, which I’ve been listening to on and off for over 5 months now.

Not having had a lot of downtime lately to sit and read, The Children’s Book has been getting the bulk of my attention since I can listen as I drive or do housework.  But even with that, I still have a long ways to go in this mammoth novel.  Byatt writes beautifully, creating a world with words that is so visual and so intrinsically captivating, it’s easy to lose sight of the plot.  Which, at times, seems to be exactly what Byatt has done: I am generally a fan of character-driven writing over plot-focused novels, but the sheer expansiveness of the novel – with its  periodic politics and art, and seemingly endless cast of supporting characters – is distracting at times.  While I’m listening, it’s easy to be swept away by the storyline in front of me, but then, when stepping back, it’s hard to keep track of everything going on, and how it could possibly all fit together. Still, I’m attached to enough of the main characters that I want to see where their stories take them.  And Byatt’s use of language truly is remarkable.

As for the other two…well, I am doing some traveling in the next week.  Maybe that will give me a chance to give them the attention they deserve.