A Good Book. by Patresa Hartman

I am reading a fantastic book, and I am so grateful for it. Have you read What is the What by Dave Eggers? It is a novelization of the true story of a Sudanese Lost Boy, Valentino Achak Deng. It is beautiful and heartbreaking and inspiring.

It is a shameful account of how cruel we can be to one another, the long stretch we have to collective enlightenment, and how hardship does not end for refugees when they reach "safe" soil. It is also miraculous testimony to strength of spirit and generosity.

I am excited about this book. I have tried to share this enthusiasm with my students. I want them to know how powerful a story can be, how exciting it is to get lost in someone else's tale. I want them so much to understand that a book can be life-sized even when it presents in a purse-sized paperback. I want them to know intimately the words do not end on the page.

The story of Deng is remarkable, unimaginable: To walk for years, cross-country, barely dressed, knowing at any point you could be plucked from your traveling pack and eaten by a lion in the bush; To understand intimately that death is real and waiting for everyone; To feel, in a way that most cannot, that you are hunted by multiple predators, some of your own species. When I was ten, I argued for Barbies in the pink bedroom I shared with my sister. I never doubted my safety.

I am grateful for a childhood of Barbies and minor squabbles. I am equally grateful for the stories others tell so that I understand better that my experiences are not universal and that the world consists of far more texture. It is a painful and complicated texture, but it is better to know than not know. There is value in knowing of painful things.

Do you know what I mean by that?

When I read stories such as Deng's, my own trials are knocked into perspective. We are made of the same stuff, you, me, and Deng. And so, I know that what is in Deng is in me as well; I have the same capacity for resilience. I am inspired and encouraged by that, and I am grateful for Deng's survival and his willingness to share himself with me, his anonymous reader.

Playaway by Barbara Quinn

Today I’m grateful for my local library’s ability to embrace new technology. I love to read and thanks to the library I have always read voraciously for free. The library has also always been a source of movies and music providing a great way to be able to sample new artists. Whether it’s the classics or best sellers you can find it on their shelves.

And now my library has a new gadget available that has books on tiny players the size of a thick credit card. The players are called Playaways. Have you seen them? What a dream come true!

I took out a couple this week, and tucked one in my purse. Each player holds one book. Now I always have a book with me since it’s easy to carry and the thing only weighs about 1 ounce. Five hours of listening pleasure in a one ounce device. I’m engrossed already in Ian McEwan’s Black Dogs. All you need is a set of earbuds and you can listen anywhere. I took mine to the gym and to the doctor’s office. You can purchase a car adapter if you’d rather listen while driving without the earpieces. It has a speed adjustment so you can make the reader go faster or slower. And it picks up right where you left off when you turn it back on. You can move forward or back too. Best of all is there is no downloading and no software to contend with. You switch the thing on and it works. This is my type of digital book.

I have seen the future of audio books and I am here to tell you, it is promising! Thank you Suffern Free Library for being willing to offer Playaway devices to your patrons.

36C - Life in Lingerie

One of my novels is called, 36C. It's the story of a lingerie shop girl's search for the perfect fit.
You can read more about it at:
http://www.diskuspublishing.com/barbaraquinn.html

Here's a short summary:
Tressa Connell dreams of finding the right fellow, of putting her graphics art degree to work, and of traveling to Venice. The reality is that she's stuck in a dead-end job selling lingerie to rail-thin women who prowl the high-end Manhattan boutique where she works. Hounded by a helmet-haired boss, befriended by a troubled Latina makeup artist, and wooed by a Jewish cop, Tressa also dreams she has a giant grandfather clock strapped to her back, a bushel of eggs in her arms, and her mother cracking a Pampers whip over her head.