ABAW: Janet Evanovich's First Four Plums

Or Four.

One For the Money (Harper Paperback edition, 1994)

Two For the Dough (Pocket Books edition, 1996)

Three to Get Deadly (St. Martin’s Paperback edition, 1997)

Four to Score (St. Martin’s Paperback edition, 1998)

Janet Evanovich got her chops writing romance novels. Now she’s one of the four highest paid authors in the U.S. (According to Forbes), trailing James Patterson, Danielle Steele, and Stephen King. Kapow.

I discovered her series about a New Jersey lingerie buyer turned badass bounty hunter around the time that the eighth or ninth book debuted. She’s up to eighteen now, plus novellas and spinoffs. A movie version of One for the Money starring Katherine Heigl as the inimitable Stephanie Plum premieres this week. 

A couple of weeks ago, when the germy funk descended (yet again this winter) over myself and the spawn, I binged on the first four Plums. I loved it. Evanovich calls her books birthday cake, exhorting us all to indulge from time to time. But she doesn’t owe anyone apologies for her writing or her success. Evanovich found a niche, collected a set of reliable tropes, populated it with rich characters and tapped an audience that eagerly waits for her every publication. She is commercially successful and sharp at what she does. 

No other books motivate me quite the same way as an Evanovich Plum. I find them easily rereadable. As a writer, I’m inspired by Evanovich’s gumption, perseverance, and success. As a person, Stephanie always makes me want to get up and kick butt at whatever I’m doing. The world does not keep that woman down. Even when her cars keep blowing up. 

There is a lot of slapstick silliness in the stories, especially as the series progresses. The cartoon rhetoric of the marketing gives a shallow vibe to the series. While some complain that by the eighteenth iteration those tropes have been beaten to death, I was surprised in this rereading by how much more gritty (and occasionally quite scary) the first book is. There is style and structural technique to be found under the goofy veneer, as well as some fun. 

The State of this Union, 2011

A few years ago I mentioned that the U.S. State of the Union Address bears personal significance for Partner and I, marking that time, lo these many years ago, that we started our wanderings together. This week, President Obama’s third State of the Union Address had me counting on my fingers.

Seventeen.

Seventeen years of sharp right turns, overabundant grapefruit, and sleepless nights. 

In no particular order, here is a less-than-scientific accounting with which we might measure our seventeen years:

— 3 states (one of them twice)

— 4 cars (ok, two cars, one truck, and a Eurovan)

— 1 murder trial (neither of us) 

— 8 abodes (five apartments and three houses)

— 7 incisions (I lead by one, but do not hope for advancement on either side)

— 1 parachute jump (no, not me)

— 1 frog (may she rest in the compost pile)

— 4 hand-knit sweaters (three for me, one for him; he’s bigger)

— 1 nose ring (that one’s me)

— A handful of messy breakups (is there any other kind?)

— A bucketload of bagels (boiled, of course; chocolate-chip from time to time)

— 4 high schools (all him; three as teacher, one as oppressor)

— 3 institutions of higher education (four degrees and a certification)

— 3 Sonars (eeny, meeny, and miney)

— A mountain of books (and counting)

— 1 red and blue dye job (still not me)

— The infinite hope that we can put together at least another seventeen years (preferably with 100% less criminal justice system and 100% more intellectual engagement).

Love you, babe. 

A Book A Week: Wonderstruck by Brian Selznick

Wonderstruck by Brian Selznick. Scholastic 2011 (library copy)

You might know Selznick’s work from his previous novel, The Invention of Hugo Cabret (which has recently been adapted into the film Hugo), or from one of the many children’s books he has illustrated (like Frindle or The Landry News). Like Hugo Cabret, Wonderstruck is massive-looking, but do no be put off by fears of the book’s density. The text of the novel is elaborately illustrated by Selznick’s signature artwork, giving a cinematic quality to the unfolding of the narrative.

The story alternates between Ben and Rose. Ben lives in 1977, in Minnesota. His story is told entirely in words. His mother has just died, and in his grief, he begins to wonder about the father he has never known. Rose lives in 1927, near New York City, and her story is told entirely in pictures. Despite the distance of time and space, Ben and Rose are connected, both in coincidences of their lives, and in their mutual search for missing pieces.

This is the sort of story a person (child or adult) could completely fall into. Though I read this to myself, the story would be lovely read out loud, side-by-side. And though there are one or two moments where the story feels overly contrived, there is a little bit of magic in the way that Ben and Rose find what they need.

Internet Goes on Strike

http://sopastrike.com/strike/

A Book A Week: The Princess Bride by William Goldman

The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern’s Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure, The ‘good parts’ version, Abridged by William Goldman. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich (Via Ballantine paperback) 1973.

I’ve seen The Princess Bride movie many times. It’s one of the few movies I’ve ever been willing to rewatch. I infected the Sonars with my love for the movie, and now they too will quote it for you on request. They particularly like Fezzik and Inigo’s rhyming.

But I had never read the book. This paperback has been hanging around our house for decades, and I’ve always wanted to read it, but just never got around to it. So I was put in a curious position. Usually I read a book first and it’s up to the movie to live up to the book and my imagination. In this case though, I knew and loved the movie, and it was up to the book to measure up.

I’m happy to say that the book is fun. In terms of the main plot about Westley and Buttercup, the story is very familiar, with only minor shifts to accommodate movie-plotting. But what I absolutely adore is the framing sequence about Goldman’s experience with the book as a child at his father’s side and trying to find the book for his own son only to be disappointed by the boring parts. In the movie, the framing story of the grandfather reading to the sick boy inadequately stands in for this hilarious device. The book is worth a read if only for the introduction and for Goldman’s narrative remarks throughout the story.