Timbuktu by Paul Auster

"For the loneliness you foster/ I suggest Paul Auster/ A book called Timbuktu."

That's a lyric from the song "Put a Penny in the Slot" by Fionn Regan. Ever since I heard it, years ago, I've looked for this book. Today I found it at Capitol Hill Books and promptly bought it.

Mr. Bones is the narrator of this book. Mr. Bones is a dog whose owner, Willy G. Christmas, is dying. The two have been together for the past seven years, the most recent four spent on the road-vagabond style- searching for Willy's high school teacher. Willy is looking to bequeath his life's work to someone responsible, so that his legacy will carry on. Simultaneously, he has been giving Mr. Bones lessons in life: where to go once he is without a human, and where his human will go once he passes on-a place Willy calls Timbuktu.

Mr. Bones has visions that come to him in the form of dreams. These dreams have always come to pass in reality, culminating in Willy's death. On the lam, attempting to escape all policemen or anyone similar (surely sealing a fate leading to a dogcatcher!), our dog friend eventually finds a family. Completely suburban and nuclear, this family is at once completely foreign (they name him Sparky!) and comforting (they bathe him!) to Mr. Bones.

I knew at page 4 when Bones refers to "ontological terror" that this would be a book I could get behind. While the ending was a bit tragic, I didn't find myself feeling any more or less lonely (the expectation set by Fionn Regan years back). As an aside, upon finishing this book, I met a random guy who has three unfinished novels. When asked his favorite modern writers, he answered with Paul Auster, and told me that there is another title that will "make me want to slit my wrists." As this is my fourth Auster book to date, I can't wait to see what the next one does to me.

"But God paid no attention to him or else could not find him."

"It was the first time he had understood that memory was a real place that one could visit; and that to spend a few moments among the dead was not necessarily bad for you, that it could in fact be a source of great comfort and happiness."

A Multitude of Sins by Richard Ford

At the Barnes in Chicago, I worked with a guy named Jose. He used to sing random Paul McCartney/Wings songs to me, which led to him calling me "Jet" all the time. He was an English writing major at Brown (now a successful writer by profession) and was snottier than me. Richard Ford was his favorite contemporary author. I picked up (Pulitzer/PEN/Faulkner winner) Independence Day by his recommendation. Didn't love it, but liked Ford's writing enough to also pick up this book of short stories.

Whenever I can't "get into" a novel, I go back to short stories. This one is dog-eared to no end and has a random Post-It note in the front cover that reads "next Thursday night baseball game with Mark & Al" and includes two phone numbers with 303 area codes, which means I first read this after living in Colorado.

Random backstories to say that I am intrigued by Ford's characters and the way they unfold. He uses words like "fugue" to explain their emotional outpourings. This collection explores the larger theme of intimacy. This week I've been reading them while listening to The National and Tom Waits, which leads to a beautiful melancholy. Whether the relationships are breaking or rebuilding, it's just right.

Slam by Nick Hornby

I love Nick Hornby. This book is technically classified as young adult fiction, but it deals with some heavier subject matter. Sam is a 16-year-old skateboarder who adores Tony Hawk. He has a Tony Hawk poster that he talks to, and inserts Tony's end of the conversations with lines from Hawk's autobiography.

Sam's mother was a teenage mom, and can think of nothing worse than her son realizing a similar fate. Guess what? Sam's girlfriend Alicia gets pregnant. Eventually Tony Hawk (presumably) causes Sam to travel forward in time to glimpse his future as a father.

Throughout the book, Sam handles his situation in typical fashion-including running away and eventually committing to raising his child. Sam navigates his unconventional relationship with his mother (and somewhat distant father), as well as Alicia and her elitist parents while they all figure out how to move forward.

While this isn't my favorite Hornby book, it was a quick read with engaging characters.

The Poet by Michael Connelly

It should go without saying that I'm a bit of a snob. My friend Adam and I have a long standing joke that ends with, "Of course you don't," in regards to my taste. Fairly elitist when it comes to all things artsy, but books especially. However, when I fly on airplanes, I read trashy magazines. When I ride on trains I read newspapers. When I go home for a week to watch my grandmother die and attend her funeral, I tend to not have the attention span or mental capacity to concentrate or think much. So...Adam had literally just recommended that if I were to ever lower myself to read a Michael Connelly book, it should be the Poet. To use one of his euphemisms, the universe farted the right way and I ended up reading this. Quite quickly...and enjoying myself, to boot.

(Random snotty asides: The introduction is written by Stephen King... "Of course it is." Also, one night when I was reading this, my roommate Lindsay walked by the door and stopped to ask, "Are you really reading a Michael Connelly book?")

Jack McEvoy is a crime reporter for the Rocky Mountain News (go Denver!) who gets personally involved with his work when his twin brother, a Denver Police Officer, apparently commits suicide. Jack takes his bereavement leave as a sort of investigation period, and turns up a list of cops who've apparently killed themselves, linked directly to cases where the cop was working a case involving a child. In addition, the cops all leave notes consisting of only one line...all quoting Edgar Allan Poe.

McEvoy eventually goes to the FBI, and is granted special access to cover the story after cooperating with their ongoing investigation. While the entirety of the book is not predictable, there were a few things that I dreaded would happen that eventually did. As a whole, I enjoyed this book and Connelly's style...and will soon be reading The Narrows, a follow-up to this book.

IV (A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas) by Chuck Klosterman

I recently engaged in an online debate concerning the writings of Nick Hornby, Rob Sheffield and Chuck Klostermann. This led me to again pick up and reread IV. And, as before, I loved every minute. Klostermann has written for Esquire, Rolling Stone, The Believer and The New York Times Magazine. This is a collection of his writings from all of the above, dating back to the mid-90s.

Here he covers everything: Ratt, Johnny Carson, bowling, Radiohead and pants. His interview with Jeff Tweedy is one of the best I've read. I love that he spans from Morrissey to My Bloody Valentine, but also shamelessly profiles U2 and Britney Spears just as effortlessly. He contemplates monogamy and the afterlife, then addresses Barry Bonds and the Olympics.

He acknowledges his own writing with humility, saying "(there) are the two primary criticisms of my writing: that it's not especially funny, and that it's not particularly insightful." Though I disagree. Take for, instance, his questioning of the "alternative" music scene: "It remains unclear what this movement was the 'alternative' to...I suppose going to the mall, although I recall seeing a lot of these same rock kids at JCPenney."

And then there is his take on Ton Loc. "The last verse of 'Bust a Move' states, 'Your best friend Harry/ Has a brother Larry/ In five days from now he's gonna marry/ He's hopin' you can make it there if you can/ Cuz in the ceremony you'll be the best man.' Now, why would anybody possibly be the best man in a wedding where the groom is your best friend's brother? Why isn't your best friend the best man in this ceremony? And who asks someone to be their best man a scant five days before they get married?" Important questions. Answered with genius.

Two Lives: Gertrude and Alice by Janet Malcolm

What Malcolm has given us is equal parts history of Stein and Toklas' relationship and an astute criticism of Stein's work. How two Jewish lesbians survived living in Europe during the 30s and 40s is one the larger question posed. Essentially, they moved to the French countryside and rarely spoke of their religious heritage. Evaded the issue, even.

I've long been enchanted with Stein, her brother Leo and their unique brand of living at 27 Rue de Fleurus. The company they kept during the 20s is a veritable who's who, but Malcolm wholly ignores this, aside from a brief mention of Hemingway. The focus is truly on the escape from Nazi terror and the process by which Stein wrote.

Malcolm is seemingly not a huge fan of Gertrude, but she thoroughly investigates her library and fairly sheds light on one of my favorite writers. If you've read my review of the play Gertrude Stein, then you are aware of my adoration of stream-of-consciousness and her heavy repetition of words. I'll spare you a litany of quotes, but share some of how Malcolm classifies the writing.

"This is truly a new way of writing a novel, a novel where the author withholds the characters from the reader. ...The characters resemble shades."

"When she uses a new word it is like the entrance of a new character."

"She refuses to see things clearly that can only be seen darkly."

"Although it is possible to finish, it is impossible to sum up."

House Rules by Jodi Picoult

Oh, Jodi. Here you are again. Although read over the course of 24-hours, this one seemed even more familiar than her more recent novels. There were also one too many unnecessary perspectives included (for only a few chapters, at that). Picoult has done courtroom battles before....and, correct me if I'm wrong, always involving kids. Wah wah.

Short version: Emma Hunt is an overbearing mother (oh, wait! we've seen this lady before) to Theo and Jacob. Jacob has Asperger's Syndrome, and is obsessed with forensics, including watching and documenting shows and then recreating crime scenes for his family to figure out. The Hunt household is governed by a short list of "House Rules", as Jacob needs the structure and something to constantly reference in order to function in society. (I'm very tempted to give you two of the rules, but would give away the big mystery....suffice it to say, using Jacob's notation system...SOLVED: ME! 75 pages.) There is a murder. Everyone knows a little piece of the puzzle, and no one is telling what they know. Courtroom scenes ensue.

The two things that stick with me from this book: Emma is a reworked version of every other mother character Picoult has written (with no outstanding traits of her own) and Jacob constantly reminded me of Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory (even though it has been said that his character doesn't have any form of autism. I couldn't help it).

Spring Awakening by Frank Wedekind (translated by Jonathan Franzen)

Honesty Time: I had no idea what was starting when I stumbled upon this at the Tattered Cover a few years ago. I picked it up simply because I was trying to read a new play each month. And it was translated by Jonathan Franzen.

The first time I read it, I basically had no idea what was going on....then I saw an announcement that the tour was coming to Denver. A year and a half later, I saw the show. AND. WENT. APESHIT. How it works, I haven't a clue. Text from late 1800s Germany? Music and choreography from late (19)90s pop schamltzer Duncan Sheik and lyrics by Stephen Sater? That'll make sense. BUT SOMEHOW IT DOES. Conceived and written over one hundred years and continents apart, the musical adaptation of this script made it understandable for this one.

I've gone back to reread it a third time after seeing it on stage again this week. (Yup, I'm the girl who'll be listening to the soundtrack for the next 2 months, as well.)

What you need to know: this is a harshly realistic portrait of adolescence. Regardless of time or place, there seems to be a disconnect when one enters into a time of self-discovery. Melchior, Moritz, Wendla, Ilse and their classmates deal with everything from belief to abuse, rape to the inevitable topics of abortion and suicide. If you're into plays or showtunes, grab a copy of the soundtrack first. Then tackle the script.

Flipped by Wendelin Van Draanen

Seeing this on the shelves of many teachers, I simply picked it up for my own library. Forgotten for many months, I saw that it was made into a movie....so I read it.

On top of being a young adult book, this one is told in alternating voices, which I LOVE. Julianna and Bryce are neighbors. Julianna has long been head-over-heels about Bryce and Bryce, well, Bryce thinks Julianna is capital-A-annoying. Their story starts just before second grade and moves through their early teens.

Their feelings for each other fluctuate and change with the seasons, as they ride the same bus to school and are nearly always in the same class. Julianna raises baby chicks as a result of a science project and proceeds to keep them in her backyard, starting a business selling the eggs to neighbors. Bryce thinks this is nuts, and is repelled by the amount of chicken poop that accumulates in such a small space. Bryce's grandfather moves in with the family, revealing family tensions that he never knew existed. As Bryce has also become the typical BMOC, he keeps these things to himself.

Essentially, the culmination of two events leads to understanding: a zoning issue with a sycamore tree and a school auction wherein Bryce is one of the items. Julianna and Bryce both end up gleaning that you can know someone a very long time without ever actually knowing who they are. A lesson that we can all be reminded of from time to time.

Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck

I was first introduced to Steinbeck in the sixth grade. Forced to read The Pearl as an 11-year old. What? Perhaps my brain wasn't ready to negotiate things as heady as oppression of whole people groups or the corruption that wealth so often brings...go figure. As such, I hated Steinbeck for the longest time. Even the beauty of Of Mice and Men didn't erase the disdain I felt (though I reread that one a few times). It wasn't until reading The Winter of Our Discontent in my mid-twenties that I warmed up to him.

While East of Eden has been in the stack of soon-to-reads for nearly 5 years (gack!), a random overheard conversation debating the merits of Steinbeck vs. Salinger led me to a conversation with a friend. Said friend prefers Salinger, but highly recommended Tortilla Flat. At 151 pages and on the shelf of Stone Alley, it wins.

Here's the deal: this book was extremely hard for me to handle. At one point, I had to force myself to read 20 pages a day. (Yup. 20 pages. And this is me.) Why I allowed this work to take exception to my 50-page-rule, I do not know. I do know that around page 80 I started to enjoy it.

More a collection of short stories about the same cast of characters, it was bearable when I looked to this as a brief series of encounters between friends. With little character development or plot momentum, it is truly akin to a night of jokes and yarns shared over a campfire.