Does My Head Look Big in This?

If you've been following my blog over the past couple months, you may have noticed I've been on a young adult literature kick.

Because of my interest in travel and other cultures, the books I've been gravitating to stick to these themes. I've also been able to read through them more quickly as they are often shorter than adult novels.

But that's not to say they don't tackle heavy ideas. For example, I just finished reading a book called Does My Head Look Big in This written by Randa Abdel-Fatta.

The book takes place in suburban Melbourne (the author is Australian) and is about a high school gal dealing with some critical identity issues. Even though she is Australian, she is also Palestinian and Muslim. She attends a hoity-toity private school with a strict uniform policy and she has recently decided that she wants to wear a hijab, or head-scarf.

Will she be able to manage all the typical social pressures any normal high school girl must deal with while also managing the stereotypes and questions that come with the hijab? You'll have to read the book to find out.

This is Abdel-Fatta's first book, and I could kind of tell. Sometimes the main character got too preachy and high-strung. However, that wouldn't stop me from recommending it to a teen reader.

It does offer an interesting cultural perspective. The United States isn't the only country in the world where people deal with hyphenated ethnic labels, and this book clearly illustrates that. Plus, even for me, an adult reader, it was interesting to encounter the thoughts and feelings that a Muslim woman might go through in decided whether or not to don the hijab.

Sofi Mendoza's Guide to Getting Lost in Mexico

I've traveled off-the-beaten-path in Mexico, so I was curious when I came across this young adult novel called Sofi Mendoza's Guide to Getting Lost in Mexico.

The book, which I was wary of at first because it started off with some sexy, getting-drunk party scenes (it's a book for teens), turned out to be a good read.

It's about a high school girl named Sofi Mendoza who lives in LA. Her friends come up with this plan to tell all their parents they are sleeping over at each other's houses when really they are going to cross the border into Mexico and go to a party at a friend's weekend house in Rosarita.

What Sofi doesn't know is that she's not a U.S. citizen. She makes it into Mexico just fine, but when it's time to come home, she gets stopped by border patrol. She isn't allowed back into the United States and that's when her whole world gets turned upside down.

Via phone calls back to her mom and dad, she gets directed to relatives in Tijuana who she has never met. She must stay with them until her visa/residency/passport situation gets straightened out.

In the end, while I did think some of the boy-meets-girl themes were a bit too over-the-top and racy, as a whole, the descriptions of Tijuana and rural Mexico struck me as right. Plus, the observations Sofi makes about life between the two cultures and countries, and the lessons she learns about education, opportunity and family were wise and true.

Learn more about the author, Malin Alegria.

Sudanese Lost Boy Finds Home in Minnesota

Lately, I've been on a young adult literature kick.

Years ago, when I taught 8th grade, I used to read a lot of YA books, but since leaving the classroom behind, I'd kind of forgotten about the genre. But not anymore. I'm back into young adult and children's literature with a vengeance.

A friend, a former teacher herself, recommended I read Home of the Brave by Katherine Applegate.

I'm so happy I did. It's a gentle, touching novel about a young Sudanese boy who immigrates to America.

He arrives alone. His father and brother were killed in his country's brutal civil war and his mother is missing, unaccounted for. He is placed in Minnesota to live with an aunt and a cousin already here.

The story is told all in poems. The language is precise and poignant and sparse. It's just lovely. Lovely, lovely, lovely.

I can't recommend this book enough. If you've got a young person in your life -- say middle school -- and you want to expose them to thoughtful prose and other cultures, this book is a winner.

Novel about the Taj Mahal

Every once in a while I come across an author who captivates my imagination, and I go on a splurge reading everything they've ever written.

This year, my author splurge was John Shors.

In June, I read his novel, Beside a Burning Sea, and interviewed him on my haiku web site.

In August I read his newly released novel, Dragon House, which takes place in Saigon.

Now, I've just finished reading his first novel, Beneath a Marble Sky. It was sooooooo good!

It is a historical novel, a love story, and an adventure tale all rolled up in one. It is the story of the building of the Taj Mahal.

I don't think I can stress how much I loved this book! I've never been to India, and before picking up this book, only knew the barest of bones about the Taj Mahal. And yes, I know that the book is a work of fiction, and that some of the details might not be correct, but I DON'T CARE. It was that good!

It has only fueled my desire to visit the Taj Mahal. Someday....

In the meantime, I'll have to get an India fix by reading my fellow GoNomad blogger, Mridula Dwivedi. She lives in India and posts about her travels in her home land (and sometimes beyond).

Dragon House -- Americans in Vietnam

I go back and forth between whether I'm a fiction or a nonfiction reader. Currently, it seems, I'm all about the fiction. Maybe that's because it's summer and I'm looking to lose myself in a story.

This past month I read an advance copy of a book called Dragon House.

It's released this month (September) but I've had a copy for several weeks now. I got it from the author, John Shors, who I met via email back in June. I read another one of his novels, Beside a Burning Sea, which has a haiku-theme, and reviewed it for my haiku blog. Then I sent him an email requesting a haiku interview.

He agreed and you can read the result at Haiku By Two.

But the interviewed opened a line of communication and as it turns out, we're both travelers. He told me about his newest book, Dragon House, which is set in Vietnam, after finding out I had traveled there, too. Before you know it, he was sending me an advance copy.

I liked the book and was able to picture the Saigon setting so clearly. The basic plot is that two Americans go to Saigon to open a home for Vietnamese street children.

There are some twists, of course. What would a novel be without some complications along the way? And a love story, too, because everyone likes a little romance.

What I found most interesting about the book was the way in which the author was able to turn his travel experiences into a novel. At the end, in the acknowledgements, he talks about a street child he met on one of his travels who inspired one of the characters in the book.

I, too, have a pocket full of stories about street kids I've encountered in my global wanderings.

It all got me thinking about how writers mine their own experiences to craft other tales -- and about how I might do the same...

Into the Beautiful North -- Great Mexico Read

I lost myself in this book! I wanted to do nothing more than sit on my back deck with my eyes sheltered by a picnic umbrella and my feet basking in the summer sun while sipping iced tea and reading.

Not only was it a winning piece of fiction, it also took place in a region of Mexico I recently traveled to -- the swampy mangroves north of Puerto Vallarta.

I didn't know this when I picked up the book. I only knew that I had read one other book by the author, Luis Alberto Urrea.

A few years back I read his nonfiction book, The Devil's Highway, which blew my mind! I pushed it on everyone I knew for months. I still think of it and wonder at how fantastically it was written. It's about the trials of crossing from Mexico in the U.S., about the coyotes and the loans they give and the interest they charge. It was soooo interesting.

But anyway...back to the book I just finished -- Into the Beautiful North. This book is a work of fiction.

It starts in a dying Mexican village that is so tucked away in a mangrove swamp that even the Mexican government isn't exactly sure whether the town is in the state of Nayarit or the state of Sinaloa. The village is dying because all the men have left to seek work in El Norte.

One day, the young women of the town suddenly realize that there are no men left, which poses a very big problem as it means none of them have boyfriends. And what is life without a little romance? Nothing!

And so, they devise a plan. They also plan to go to El Norte, but they aren't going there to stay. They are going to find young, able-bodied men. They plan to recruit them and bring them back to their town.

Can they do it? You'll have to read the book to find out -- which isn't a bad thing at all as the book is -- did I already mention this? -- fantastic!

Lost City of Z by David Grann

I just finished a fantastic book. It was called The Lost City of Z and it was written by David Grann.

The book is a biography, a history lesson, an adventure tale and a travelogue all rolled into one. Seeing as how I love all of these things, I was completely captivated by this book.

Plus, it was so well-written that it was just a joy to read. I lost myself for hours and can't thank the author enough for pursuing the trail of this story.

The book is about a man named Colonel Percy Fawcett, a British man who lived from 1867 to 1925 (presumably that is, no one knows for sure when he died).

Fawcett is an explorer obsessed with the idea that the Amazon rainforest is hiding a secret from the rest of the world: the remains of a long-lost civilization and its once glorious city now buried beneath tangles vines and jungle ruins.

Fawcett makes many trips into the Amazon seeking these ruins and eventually his obsession is the end of him.

If you'd like to read an excerpt from the book, a short section was published on GoNomad a while back.

The Lost City of Z reminded me of another great read that came out not so long ago -- The River of Doubt by Candice Millard.

In fact, one of the characters from River of Doubt makes a few appearances in The Lost City of Z.

Both are great books and I recommend them!

True Notebooks by Mark Salzman

This book has been sitting on my book shelf for a couple years.

My aunt gave it to me. She found it in a hotel book exchange while on vacation somewhere in the Caribbean (I totally dig hotel book exchanges, but that's a topic for another time).

Anyway, she picked it up and sent it to me because of the topic. It's a memoir written by a man, Mark Salzman, who is a writer. He volunteers to teach creative writing classes at a juvenile prison and this book chronicles his experiences. Seeing as how I used to be a public school teacher and now work as a writer, my aunt thought I would enjoy this book.

The fact that it's languished on my bookshelf for so long is more a reflection of my long reading list and not of the author. I was actually excited about the book when I got it. I recognized the author's name as I had read two of his other books: Iron & Silk and Lying Awake.

Iron and Silk is a travel memoir about the two years he spent teaching English in China. I've always remembered that title fondly.

Lying Awake is a novel about a nun who has divine visions and thus believes herself close to God. But then she learns that she is ill. Her illness has been causing her visions and now she wonders just exactly how close to God she is.

Now, this book that I just finished, True Notebooks, was a really good read -- and on so many levels.

First, as a citizen, I was totally hooked reading about the criminal justice system and how minors are treated.

Second, the teacher in me was totally hooked. I couldn't imagine myself teaching these kids to write. I would have pulled out my hair!

Third, the writer in me was totally hooked. Within the last month, I wrote a story about a group of women in a corrections facility who were writing poetry. I interviewed their teacher. Reading this book was like going deeper into that article I wrote.

Forth, throughout the course of True Notebooks, while the boys in the juvenile prison are struggling to write, the author is also struggling to write. He's having problems finishing his novel, Lying Awake. As I'd read that book, I found it fascinating to read about its creation.

All around, True Notebooks was a really great read. I highly recommend it.

Great Travel Memoir - Haiku Apprentice

I have died and and gone to heaven.

Actually, that was last week. Now, I'm alive again and back on planet Earth.

The reason behind my transformative state was a book called The Haiku Apprentice.

During the time that I was reading it, I was "in heaven." Now, though, I've turned the last page and am wondering how the next book I pick up has any hope in topping it.

The book combined two of my obsessions: Travel and Haiku.

It was written by an American woman who is living in Japan and working as a diplomat. At a work function, an older Japanese gentleman invites her to join his haiku group. She doesn't consider herself a poet in the least, but decides to attend on a lark.

But she gets hooked and the rest of the book is her investigation into what makes haiku "Japanese."

She launches into a cultural study of the art of haiku and in the process reveals so many fascinating tidbits about the mindset and history of the Japanese.

I've never been to Japan, and truth be told, hadn't really had much interest. But now, I'm chomping at the bit to go.

Until reading this book, it had never occurred to me that I could plan a "haiku themed trip" to Japan. Now though, the idea is budding.

Bowling Across America

If I could do one thing in all 50 states, I think it would be to get a massage.

Or eat chocolate.

Or eat chocolate while getting a massage.

Mike Walsh, on the other hand, wanted to bowl in all 50 states. And he did it, too. He accomplished his goal.

His bowling adventures are detailed in his recently-published book called -- what else? -- Bowling Across America: 50 States in Rented Shoes.

I read it and it got me thinking about the difference between aimless travel and a travel quest.

I've done both, and each has its rewards.

While I tend to be a proponent of the "aimless" brand of travel, I cannot in good faith say that most of my trips are itinerary-free.

On the other hand, there is something to be said for having a travel plan, for setting yourself on a course and sticking to it. There is a certain amount of satisfaction felt when you reach your final destination.

But I wondered what Mike Walsh thought. His bowling quest lasted 6 months and put 25,000 miles on his car. That's a long way to go to fulfill a dream.

I sent him an email to see if he thought the bowling quest had been worth it. Check back tomorrow to see what he had to say.

The Pakistani Bride

Many months ago I attended an event hosted by Milkweed Editions, an independent publisher headquartered here in Minneapolis.

At the end of the night, those in attendance were told to choose a book from the table at the door on their way out.

The books covering the table had all been published by Milkweed. I grabbed one called The Pakistani Bride. It wasn't until recently, though, that I cracked its cover.

I loved it.

It was written by a woman name Bapsi Sidhwa, who has an impressive personal story herself. She's written several novels and while she grew up in Pakistan, she now lives in the States.

The Pakistani Bride was actually Sidhwa's first book. Milkweed's recent edition will hopefully breathe new life into its circulation. It would be a fantastic book club read. Young women - high school aged - should read it, too, I think. It would get them all riled up about women's rights. There is much to talk about here.

The book is partially set in the city of Lahore, Pakistan. It's a city I've never visited myself, but have a vivid picture of in my head.

Up until about two years ago, I'd never even heard of the place. But then I read a book called The Dancing Girls of Lahore -- which totally captured my imagination.

And then, this past summer, I read another book set in Lahore. This one was called The Reluctant Fundamentalist. It, too, held my rapt attention.

So while I've never been there, now, after reading three books in fairly close succession that were all set in this city, Lahore is prominent in my mind.

Acqua Alta on the Page and in Real Life

I've got a bad case of Spring Fever.

I'd love to pack up and hit the road. Or the skies.

Venice is a place I've never been and for some reason, it's been at front and center in my mind over the past few months.

Hubby and I keep talking about going there. But when?

I must have been musing on Venice in a recent conversation with a friend of mine because she recommended a book called Acqua Alta.

It's written by Donna Leon and is book three in a nine-book series about a detective who lives in Venice.

Why, of all the books in the series, she recommended that one, I don't know. I didn't ask. But last week, I picked up the book and gave it a go.

It didn't occur to me until I was already into the book, that "Acqua Alta" means "high water."

The waters are rising in Venice throughout the book, adding an underlying sense of foreboding to the mystery that is going on in the forefront.

However, the rising-water theme was also playing out in reality, adding a strange sort of flood-obsession to my life last week.

The flooding Red River in Fargo-Moorhead has kept me riveted to the evening news for many nights now. I attended college in that town and have friends who live there still.

I had several "flood" dreams last week and I'm sure it's because I spent entirely too much time reading about floods, looking at friends' flood pictures on Facebook, watching news accounts of floods and surfing the Internet for video footage of "acqua alta" in Venice.

Here's a You Tube video I found of rising waters in Venice. Amazing. I just can't fathom that this water comes up like this, and people just go about their lives.

And while I think I'll try to avoid Acqua Alta, I still want to go to Venice.

Tipping Points and 4-Hour Work Weeks

I'm a big reader. Usually, though, I like to loose myself in historical novels or travel memoirs.

My most recent past two reads, however, don't fit either of these categories.

They have, instead, given me lots to think about and set my brain to spinning.

I finished the Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell.

Then I promptly moved on to Four-Hour Work Week by Timothy Ferris.

Both are shelved in the "business" section of a bookstore, and while I see how each of them is indeed a "business" book, I'd also say that each is a "lifestyle" book. Each one offers a bold, daring, new way to approach the world.

Now, if only I could figure out how to spark a tipping point in my life that would allow me and hubby to live well without working ourselves to death.

And I also can't stop wondering what I am ... a connector? a maven? a salesman?

If you're read the Tipping Point, then you know of what I speak.

I'm definitely not the salesman, but perhaps I am a little bit of a maven?

Anything Che Can Do I Can Do Better

The title for this entry, perhaps, isn't quite accurate. I can't perform radical, revolutionary, doctor-type moves. Nor do I want to.

However, while reading The Motorcycle Diaries, I did discover one thing I can hold over Che:

He took the train to Machu Picchu. I hiked four days through the Andes to get there.

That's me there in the picture, on the left-hand side, carrying all my gear.

My hiking partner was Alison, the very same friend with whom I now write Haiku By Two.

We made this trip back in 1998.

When people ask me to name the things I've accomplished in my life for which I'm most proud, this trip, this four-day hike, always tops the list. It was hard!

Che, with his notorious asthma, perhaps could not have followed this trail. But I did. And I would never give up the experience.

Motorcycle Diaries

After crawling out from under the weight of all four Twilight books, I decided to pick something from my bookcase that I really really wanted to read.

I settled on The Motorcycle Diaries, Che Guevara's famous (infamous?) journal recounting a trip he took through South America at the age of 23/24.

Despite the fact that I am Che-obsessed and the fact that this book has been sitting on my shelf for two years, I'd never cracked the spine. I decided it was time.

Besides, it's just a slim little book. Easy reading, I thought.

Not exactly. It took me three weeks to read 175 pages. Not quite as engaging as I had hoped.

This was probably because I had some pretty high hopes. Motorcycle Diaries the movie had been so engaging. Now that I've read the original book, I'm left wondering how in the world they ever made such a fun film from this drab account.

Or maybe I'm remembering the film all wrong. Maybe I let my feelings for Gael Garcia Bernal, the actor who played Che, cloud my judgment there. He is quite a little hottie.

Anyway, back to the book. Sure, it had its moments.

Like this line, which I highlighted and starred:

"All this wandering around 'Our America with a capital A' has changed me more than I thought."

To that I had only one thing to say:

Amen.

When Wanderers Cease to Roam

It's been a dreary February here in Minnesota. Unusual rain has washed away the snow leaving everything ugly and gray. I've taken to curling up with hot tea and a book to pass the gloomy hours.

The book I've been reading fits my mood exactly. It's called When Wanderers Cease to Roam: A Traveler's Journal of Staying Put.

It's a travel memoir. It's coffee table book. It's like nothing I've ever seen.

The entire book, all 197 pages, was hand written by the author, Vivian Swift.

Not only did she hand write every single word in the book, she also illustrated it extensively with watercolors and pen.

After 20 years traveling the world as a backpacker, a Peace Corp volunteer and a professional, she decided to find a small spot in a small town and make herself a home.

This book is basically a scrap book her travel memories. It becomes apparent that Swift is a fantastic hoarder of stories, trinkets and travel scraps as she fills pages upon pages with intricate drawings of the places she's been and the things she's collected.

I especially liked a reoccurring series in the book. Swift picks a theme -- say tea -- and then writes five one-paragraph stories involving tea that happened to her in five different countries. It was a writing idea I think I'm going to try.

Once I'd finished the book, there was a page in particular that stuck out at me: page 21. It probably rang such a bell as it talked about the dullness of February, which it now is, and the desire to plan a trip, which I currently feel.

Anyway, this is the passage that stuck out at me:

"February used to be the month I paid the least attention to,
except as inspiration to plan a long road trip as far away as
possible. Now that I've acquired the habit of staying put,
February is the month that keeps me closest to home, feasting
on the memories of travel . . . "

Photos - close up shots of inside pages from When Wanderers Cease to Roam by Vivian Swift

Out From Under Twilight

Help! I'm stuck under Twilight and I can't get out!

Well, actually, I just unstuck myself. I finally turned the last page of Breaking Dawn, the last book in the Twilight series.

And thank God! I don't think I could take another installment.

The books annoyed me. And not just because they were clocking in at like 700 pages each.

I deeply disliked the main character, Bella Swan. She lacked independence, confidence and thought her entire self worth depended on whether or not the right boy loved her.

And when she wasn't obsessing over boys and whether or not she should get married at the age of 18, she was obsessing over doing the laundry and cooking for her single dad.

Puke! Gag! Gross! Especially when you consider the target audience for these books is high school girls! Come on! Positive female role models please?

So why did I read them all? Because despite all the plot line pitfalls they were strangely compelling. I just had to find out whatever became of Bella Swan.

That, and a friend wanted to read them and discuss them together. Turns out, neither one of us was a Bella Swan fan.

One of the ways I managed to pull myself through the Twilight haze was to look back over all the books I read in 2008.

I have finally finished compiling my year-end list, choosing my favorites and posting it to my web site.

Four of my top five 08 picks were travel books and the fifth was a novel that had me crying by page 3.

Check out my complete 2008 reading list.

Here at the End of the World We Learn to Dance

Usually, I zip through books. This fall, though, I've been having trouble finding much time to read.

I was excited, therefore, at the prospect of the two-and-a-half hour flight from Minneapolis to Phoenix and then back again ... time to read!

So that I could feel more accomplished, I picked short novels. Ones I felt sure I could finish in the span of a flight and just a few hours more.

The book I read on my return home was called Here at the End of the World We Learn to Dance.

It was written by Lloyd Jones, a New Zealand author.

I picked up the book for a couple reasons:

1. Earlier this year I read Mr. Pip, another book penned by him, which was short-listed for the 2007 Booker Prize.

I tend to like Booker Prize winners, and I liked Mr. Pip. Jones was an author I'd never heard of before, so when I saw this other title, I figured I'd give it a go.

2. Also, this book, this Here at the End of the World book, partially takes place in Buenos Aires, a city I love.

It is a love story (and who doesn't like those?) about dancing the tango.

The book captured my attention right away as it starts in Chacarita Cemetery in Buenos Aires.

I'd been to Chacarita Cemetery myself. I'd toured it on my own years ago in an attempt to see just how far I could push the envelope as a solo traveler.

If I could trapse around a massive (and it is massive) cemetery by myself, my thinking went at the time, surely I could do just about anything.

One of my favorite Chacarita discoveries was the tomb of Carlos Gardel, the famous tango singer. That tomb gets mentioned in this book.

Now that I've reached the end of this book, however, I'm not too sure what I'd grade it as.

It certainly won't make my top 5 reading list for the year, and yet I read it to the end and enjoyed it.

Ultimately, though, I think it was my own obsession with Buenos Aires that pulled me through.

Dog Run

I attended an author event last night.

Photographer Michael Crouser was in town promoting his new book, Dog Run.

The book is a coffee table book of black and white photographs of dogs that he captured at dog parks.

Because dogs tend to be in constant motion at a dog park, these aren't cuddly cute pictures of little purse pups. Instead, these pictures are all about movement and play.

Being the dog fanatic that I am, I found this book to be very cool. I especially like the really tight shots that show simply a dog's muzzle or tail.

And -- bonus -- Crouser is originally from the Twin Cities. He lives in Brooklyn now, but swings back through Minnesota often. And actually, about half the pictures in the book were taken at a dog park near Minneapolis' Lake of the Isles. The rest were taken at a dog park in Manhattan.

During the Q and A, someone asked him whether or not, after spending so much time in dog parks, he had picked up on any differences between dog owners in the two states.

Yes, he said. The New York dog owners tried to shoo him off. The didn't like that he was taking pictures of their dogs. Some even got really in his face and tried to bully him away.

The Minneapolis dog owners, on the other hand, would approach him, ask if their dog was going to be in the paper, offer to spell their dog's name and then drag him around to meet their second dog so he could get a shot of that one, too.

That response got a round of chuckles from the audience. Could we Minnesotans -- or the New Yorkers for that matter -- get any more stereotypical?

Suspenseful Reading

I recently finished reading Elephant Run by Roland Smith. It's a young adult novel about Burma, Japan, elephants and WWII.

Burma is about the last place I would ever expect a young adult novel to be set, and in truth, this is one of the reasons I picked up the title. The uniqueness appealed to me.

Yet once I got started, I kept reading because I was thoroughly engaged in the plot. The main character, Nick, is a British boy whose parents are divorced and living on different continents -- his mother in England and his father in Burma.

When the Germans begin their steady bombing of London during WWII, it is decided that Nick should part ways with his mother and go live with his father in Burma, which is (supposedly) beyond the reach of the war.

But soon after Nick gets settled in with his dad, the Japanese march into the country, conquer Rangoon and begin sending captives to the Thai-Burma border to construct a railway bridge, which would become the real-life Bridge Over the River Kwai.

While Nick manages to avoid capture by the Japanese, his father doesn't. What will Nick do all alone in a foreign and war-torn land?

Salty Sweet

I will admit I've slacked on the blogger scene lately.

My brain has been preoccupied with another writing project and when I finally wrap up at the end of the day, my eyeballs are dry and tired from excessive screen time.

I've chosen reading over blogging to give my eyes a rest. And besides, the book I was reading offered me total escape. Authored by Mark Haskell Smith, it was called Salty.

Salty, hot and sweaty it was. It took place in Thailand, alternating settings between a tourist beach on Phuket, a mangrove swamp not too far away, and the raunchy streets of Bangkok. It was a tale of kidnappings, ransoms, rock stars and supermodels.

It would have been a great beach read, but it was also perfect as my mid-winter-blahs release.

It reminded me of three other books I've read -- the Bangkok 8 series by John Burdett.

Bangkok 8, Bangkok Tattoo and Bangkok Haunts are books I can only describe as racy, sexy, thrilling and definitely NOT for the faint-of-heart reader.

In them, Sonchai Jitpleecheep (the only non-corrupt detective in all of Bangkok's police force) solves the graphic murders of foreigners that inevitably involve the seedy underbelly of Thailand -- drugs, prostitution, terrorism, etc.

I'm not a die-hard mystery reader, nor am I big on series, so I'm surprised I rush for Burdett's titles when I see a new one has been released. Given the most recent is still out in hardcover, I guess I'll have a while before the fourth one hits my nightstand.

Supporting the Sorta Hometown Girl

Ever since the movie Juno was released in December, screenplay writer Diablo Cody has been getting a lot of media attention -- especially here in the Twin Cities.

Minnesota loves to promote its own and even though Cody only lived in the Twin Cities for a short time, and doesn't live here anymore, seemingly every local publication has pumped out glowing articles about her and her ascent into the national spotlight, which started right here in little ol' Minneapolis.

Of course hubby and I went to see Juno soon after it opened. To not have would have felt like we were breaking some sort of law, such was the glitter and fanfare it received. And it was fun to hear the characters reference such backyard landmarks like "Ridgedale Mall" in the film.

When Juno received four Academy Award nominations (best actress, best screenplay, best director and best film), we nodded our heads and concurred that yes, it had been a good show.

So when I came across a stack of hardcover copies of Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper for 4 bucks at Barnes and Noble the other day, I had to get one. Before she wrote Juno, Cody wrote Candy Girl and it's filled with Minneapolis references.

I read it over the weekend. It was a VERY fast read. And I was actually kinda surprised by the fact that all the place names weren't disguised. One could actually use Candy Girl as a sort of guidebook to Minneapolis Strip Clubs (if one were looking for that sort of thing).

But, after closing the back cover, I still had one question. Why is the book called Candy Girl?

I kept thinking that "Candy" was going to have been her stripper stage name, but it wasn't.

I feel like I'm overlooking something totally obvious. Anyone out there know the reason behind the title?

Oh, Those Hot-Humid Days of Yore

It's really cold here in Minneapolis. Sub-zero cold. Negative-30-degrees-wind-chill cold.

It's that time of year when I ask myself, "Why do I live here?"

And yet, I kinda like the frigid temps. Not because I'm a glutton for frostbite, but because life indoors turns all cozy and comfy. The freezing air is a logical, perfect reason to stay at home, eat hot soup, stay in my pajamas all day, drink loads of coffee and read books (as if I needed an excuse to read books).

My most recent read took me someplace far away and far hotter than home: Burma.

I snuggled up with my doggies and Emma Larkin's book Finding George Orwell in Burma. The title had been on my radar since its release for a couple of reasons.

One - It was written by a woman and I'm always interested in travel tales penned by the ladies.

Two - It was about George Orwell and his life in Burma. One of my all time favorite pieces of writing is an Orwell essay called "A Hanging", which takes place there.

Three - I went to Burma and love to read about places I've been.

Four - This past fall, when Burma (also known as Myanmar) was making daily headlines, a friend asked me what she could do to help the Burmese. I think, the best thing we can do, is to first inform ourselves about what is going on there, to really understand the problem.

After reading Finding George Orwell in Burma, I feel like I understand the country's situation much, much better. Having been to the country, I was totally blown away by the author's travel courage.

When my hubby and I look back on our one week in Burma, we often say that we can't believe how lucky we were to have gotten in, gotten around and gotten out without any major problems.

We were smart travelers, used to the road and used to hassles when we landed in Burma, and still, the country knocked us flat. It was an emotionally draining place to be a budget backpacker. The heat, the culture, the inequity, the level to which the country was under-developed, all of it seeped into our heads and muddled our thoughts and yet we knew that in such a different, different land, we had to remain alert.

For anyone looking to learn a little more about Burma, I highly recommend Larkin's book. It is intelligent, well-written and incredibly interesting.

* Photos
- cover art for Finding George Orwell in Burma
- my own foggy shot of a fisherman on Burma's Inle Lake

Top Five Reads of 2007

It's a new year, which means it was time to go back over my list of reads from the past 12 months and select my five favorite books of 2007.

It's a fun task as I get to review all the great books that have graced my nightstand.

Some years it's hard to narrow down the field, but this time the titles jumped right at me. Take a swing by my site to see what made the cut.

Reading Orange

My hubby wants to know why the past three books I've read all have orange covers.

Hmmm. I've always claimed my favorite color to be red. I am drawn to orange; I built my web site around the color. Yet I never would have thought the color capable of influencing my reading decisions. If it did, however, I'm okay with that. My past three reads have been varied and good.

First I read a travel memoir called Stalking the Wild Dik Dik.

Then I read a novel called Minaret, written by Leila Aboulela, a Sudanese writer.

The book is about a Sudanese woman who is living in London as a political refugee. The setting flips back and forth between London and Khartoum. Basically, it's the main character's story of spiritual awakening, but it is also a love story and a family history.

I was surprised by how drawn into this book I got as it felt like it moved slowly and not much happened. Yet lots was happening. The back cover quotes use words like "delicate," "gentle," "moving," and "quietly angry" and I would have to agree with all of these descriptions. This book had a very understated pull.

My third orange read was All the Fishes Come Home to Roost by Rachel Manija Brown. It's a memoir about the author's rather traumatic and unusual childhood.

Brown spent a chunk of her childhood on an ashram in Ahmednagar, India. Her parents were followers of a guru named Meher Baba. While her parents were busy devoting their lives to an obscure, dead spiritual leader, Brown was attending a horrific local school and suffering extreme loneliness as the only foreign child for miles and miles around.

The first half of the book was enjoyable and fun to read it was in the child's voice and quite witty. Yet half-way through when the author switched to her adult voice and started writing about how she'd come through her childhood, I found myself jumping paragraphs. I preferred the child's voice.

However, I was glad to have read the book. Years ago, in a graduate course I was taking, a guest speaker came to class and spoke about her travels to India in search of enlightenment. She brought a slide show and a good portion of the pictures were of this dude named Meher Baba. I thought the speaker was bizarre and chasing a cult, yet I'd never been able to shake the name "Meher Baba." She said it like a million times in her hour presentation.

After reading All the Fishes Come Home to Roost, I still think the Meher Baba followers are a bit goofy, but I'm glad to know I didn't make up that name that has kicked around in my head for the past 10 years.

What's a Dik-Dik?

When I picked up this book, my husband teased me. "It's very important to stalk the dik-dik," he said with a smirk.

I smiled, made some suggestive comment then turned and took the few steps to my reading chair. I snuggled in, ready to follow author Marie Javins as she traveled from South Africa to Egypt, alone.

I found it an interesting read as the book is based on the author's travel blog, Marie's World Tour. Since I also traveled, blogged and harbor hopes of turning my online travel journal into a print book, I was curious how she handled the material.

It was a quick read, perfect for distracting me from the cold winter weather that's starting to brew outside. And hey, now I know what a dik-dik is.

Broken Hearts and Buenos Aires

I just finished reading a book called The Buenos Aires Broken Hearts Club. The author's name is Jessica Morrison and her main character, Cassie, flees to the city of good airs after being fired, dumped and evicted from her Seattle life all in one day.

While the book is billed as fiction, the author says up front in her author's note that she went to Buenos Aires after a divorce and on more or less a broken heart. After reading it, it was very clear to me that the author had indeed spent time in the city.

I picked up the book because I, too, went to live in Buenos Aires when I had a broken heart. It was 1997 when I went and the city soothed me. Well, there's nothing really "soothing" about Buenos Aires. It's a massive, crowded, noisy, bright and caffeinated city. Perhaps it would be better if I said that Buenos Aires distracted me. It distracted me from my broken heart long enough for it to heal.

In the book, the main character gets to Buenos Aires and discovers an entire subculture of ex-pats nursing wounded hearts. Oddly enough, when I was there, I also forged my own little broken heart club.

My co-broken hearter was Ali. We taught English at the same language school in the city and became fast friends. She is my Buenos Aires soul mate and, after all these years, continues to be a dear friend. Here we are on our last night in the city together. We both went home the next day.

I remember posing for this picture. We planned the shot. It's taken in the middle of Avenida Corrientes. We wanted the lights, the obelisk and the subte (subway) in the background. And because Corrientes is one of the city's main arteries, the picture was taken quick-quick while traffic was lingering at a red light.

The book, while not a stellar piece of literature, kept my interest. I kept trying to figure out if I liked the book because it was well-written chic lit or if I liked it because it was set in Buenos Aires and somewhat mirrored my own experience in the city. I've decided I'm too biased to make that call.

But the book also got me wondering - about Buenos Aires, about broken-hearted travelers, about where they end up - and I wondered: Is it simply coincidence that this book reflects my own past or is Buenos Aires really some sort of haven for the lovelorn?

Were you ever broken hearted? Did you travel to escape the break up? Did it take you to Buenos Aires? Did the city heal you, too? Or did you end up some place else?

I want to know. Post me a comment.