Stacked Insanity

The books I've bought or checked out in the past month.

I think it is clear that I severely overestimate both my reading speed and ability to absorb information. Still, my appetite is insatiable. I guess I might as well expose the topic that's created such a vacuum.

Young Adult and classic literature, with a humongous dollop of Catholicism.

YA Book Review: Little Blog on the Prairie by Cathleen Davitt Bell

In the interest of acting librarianly (and in an effort to try and remember details about children's and teen books that I read) I've decided to sprinkle a few book reviews into this blog.  Here is one I read while in Louisiana.

Little Blog on the Prairie by Cathleen Davitt Bell


My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This book was a sweet, cute, fun read!


Synopsis: Thirteen year old Genevieve (Gen for short) is forced to attend a pioneer camp with her parents and little brother where the family must dress, act, and labor like an 1890s farm family ALL summer long. Gen's mother promises her that if she attends the camp she will get her own, new, shiny FIRST cell phone. Gen agrees, only to smuggle the cell phone into camp so she can send her friends at home snarky text messages about her experiences. Gen's friends end up turning her messages into a blog which attracts a large fanbase and eventually the media!


I loved this book. I understand where Gen's mom was coming from. I lust after a house, garden, chickens, getting rid of TV, cooking from scratch, making soap, making butter, making jelly. I am learning to play the banjo for when these things come to pass. I knit, spin wool and sew for fun. I truly enjoyed reading about the experiences of an adolescent who has absolutely no interest in learning pioneer arts, and who is only keeping her sanity by committing acts of minor anarchy by sending funny texts to her friends.


The book had an interesting, unique premise.  A great Wyoming forest setting, complete with details about the family's 1890s style shack cabin, complete with the outhouse that Gen has so much trouble navigating amid her 1890s ruffles, buttons, and pantaloons. The book included details about how Gen was feeling about the work she was doing, about the other families in the camp, and even about her own family whom she comes to greatly appreciate and respect. The conversations with the other children (especially Ka) who were forced to attend were hilarious. Throughout the book there is a tame animosity between Gen and Nora, the daughter of the camp owners of the camp. Gen's behavior is believable and seemed to genuinely portray the feelings and attitudes of a thirteen year old girl, she is not wholly good or wholly bad. There is a very tame romance in the novel, which is appropriate for Gen's age.

Another plus to this book was that it can straddle between a children's audience and a young adult audience.

View all my reviews

Stranger than non-fiction

In the past four or five months I’ve checked out about 30 fiction novels to read, and have only successfully finished about two of them. Strangely enough I’ve read completely about 10 or more non-fiction books. Most of these were related to religious topics or were funny memoirs. And one juicy morsel about polygamists. The two fiction novels I successfully completed were both Christian books about 1) A Quaker pastor and 2) An Amish community. This is very, very strange for me. My whole life I have been feverishly and rabidly devoted to science fiction or horror. Now I hardly even begin before I set the book down indefinitely.


Here is another curiosity. Last Friday I went to a party with a bonfire in the back yard. All of the wood for said bonfire was chopped and split by my dear beared, ax-wielding husband. I remember declaring enthusiastically at the party, in a confession brought on by several dixie cups of homebrew Belgian White (also created by Mr. Bearded), that there is just something special about seeing a modern American man chopping wood. The only way it could get better would be if he was wearing black pants, a white shirt and suspenders. And shave off the mustache portion of his beard. And wear a straw hat. I think I’ve truly gone under. Fascination with the Amish becomes a sick (but strangely alluring) obession.

These strange interests have sprung from my very new habit of studying the Bible. I initially started studying the book just to get a better understanding of the Christian religion, to help alleviate the tension from years of bad feelings about Christianity, and to understand the example of Jesus who, I believed, had many wise things to say. At some point in the journey, somehow it ended up convincing me! I feel like a veritable Paul. Strange, strange. My new reading interests seem to stem from a desire to read positive words which enhance my (sometimes hard-won) feelings of optimism. No violence or sex are necessary at this moment.

One more strange gem: I started tracking my fertility cycle and have learned that I get unbearably weepy during ovulation. Who’da thunk it?