100 Breakfasts, Coming Right Up!

Yet another goodreads giveaway!! Gotta love it when your friend* wins something and you reap the benefits! The responsibility of reading a giveaway book and writing up a review for others to use as a reference on goodreads makes me feel super important (simple pleasures, simple minds, I guess).

Here is my second effort at being a "critic" for goodreads.com:

If the first sentence of a book doesn't immediately draw me in, it can go one of two ways. Usually, if it is highly recommended by a friend, I will try my hardest to get past the first blunder, but if it doesn't get better after the first 50-100 pages* I have to make an executive decision about whether or not I want to continue torturing myself. More often than not, I will trudge my way through the bad pages and end up liking the remainder of the book.

That being said, I really enjoyed The Secret of Everything, even if the beginning did drag through an immense amount of foreshadowing. It was overpowering, but eventually I started cracking away at the actual story. Luckily, after I started to bring down those layers, I was rewarded with something that was both heartbreaking and uplifting.

What I loved about this book was the tight-knit community with small town superstitions that weaved through each chapter. Los Ladrones is marked by its past, but each character is concerned with moving forward. I really liked that eventually every one's story intertwined in some way. I do think that some of the story lines were a bit far fetched, but even with that they still managed to be refreshing. This book was both guarded and open, fresh and comforting.

Each instance lead someone to a turn of self-discovery. It didn't matter how hard or trying it was, the characters embraced their new findings with grace and awareness. People helping others with no expectation of something in return. You know, that's been a recurring theme in my life these past couple of weeks. Is it the universe telling me to be less selfish? Or more appreciative of the wonderful friends that I have who are truly that genuine in their selflessness?

There are two definite reasons I recommend a book. One is if the matter makes me stop and think about something bigger than myself. The other is if I find myself trying to avoid the end of the book. The first reason enables me to do that reflection thing that "adults" do so little of, due to life and other pressing responsibilities; and the other reason usually means that I don't want to leave the world I've encountered. I don't want to let go of my new friends. With that being said, I would probably still be reading this book, if I had been able to stretch out those last pages more than I already tried.

Very Superstitious

"...The way to succeed was to believe you wouldn't, that only someone convinced of failure had a chance of success." Julian, from Matrimony pg. 103

When your friend says "I'm so happy there is no traffic on I-95!" and all of a sudden your car is crawling in bumper to bumper traffic.

When you're having a barbecue in the summer "Weather Channel said there was a chance for rain, but look how sunny it is!" and then the clouds roll in.

When you go for an interview and you're thinking, "Man, I did great!" But you don't want to say it out loud because you know that will jinx it.

It is there when you knock on wood, or throw salt over your shoulder. Superstition and luck are interlaced in your everyday life. Whether you're aware of it or not. It may be unnatural for you to sit there and hope for the worst. Weird even, to think that you'll fail so that you don't. However, even though I try my hardest to be positive, I have that voice in the back of my mind saying, "Don't get too excited. Don't want it so bad. Just be cooooool!" (Is it just me? Oh man, that would be embarrassing).

I liked walking through the development of Julian's artistic self-esteem in this book. We meet him when he's starting out in college, taking his first Creative Writing workshop. With the necessary encouragement from his professor, he accepts his lot as a writer. We are with him when he struggles through his writer's block. We celebrate when he finally finishes his novel and is confident in himself and his art.

What I found interesting, is that writers don't feel like writers until they get some kind of recognition. Could it be a chicken and the egg thing? What comes first, being a writer or getting published (which then makes you a writer?). I kind of like what Julie's husband says about this in Julie & Julia. He tells her that she was always a writer and just because she wasn't published or recognized yet, that didn't change that important fact.

But then again, maybe I just want to believe that because then even I can call myself a writer?