Book #7: Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

This book was only 150 pages but it felt longer, deeper, harder to get through. Coates is writing the story of what he's learned about being black in America, to his son. So this is an intimate letter about all of the difficulties and struggles he has gone through, and their whole people has gone through, as a result of the "Dreamers" (as he calls them, the "people who think they are white") in America. His main theory is that being black means that you are always in danger of losing control of your body, whether by being killed or attacked or raped or enslaved, and all of that goes back to the centuries of slavery in America when Africans were being kidnapped and stolen and taken across the Atlantic. America as it is today is built on the backs of these actions, and the white American Dream is only possible today because of how it excludes those they think are black (because race is a social construct) and is built on the history of slavery and violence against this whole group of people.

His writing about his fears for his safety is so strong and illuminates so well the difference between someone with my upbringing in a privileged, white home. He grew up in a violent neighborhood and wrote about the moment he realized that his life could end at any time, just depending on if someone else decided to shoot him--whether another gang member or a police officer (because it could be either). His son is clearly growing up with a much safer experience, but, as Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin and Eric Garner make clear, Coates knows that his son, by virtue of his body, still has to realize that these same fears still have to apply to him. He says that the white policemen/men who kill these black men are just the manifestations of the centuries of views of what "white" people have towards them.

It's hard to read this as someone who falls directly into the class of "the Dreamers." A white person who has been so privileged and who lives the ideal life in a suburban neighborhood with a yard and a minivan, and who has never feared for the safety of my body. I can't even imagine having to worry about teaching my sons about the need to fear for their bodies, like Coates is doing here. On the one hand, I can't help feeling grateful that I am safe and so is my family, but I also feel ashamed that my safety and security is in spite of the lack thereof for others (or, as Coates might say, at their expense). I wish he offered more of a solution, but I think that is part of his point. There's not one solution that one person could offer up as a pat answer in a few pages at the end of his book. He doesn't make it sound hopeful at the end or even focus on any hope gained throughout the history of "progress" since slavery ended. It's just the way it is, and as it is, he and his son need to be more aware of and more careful with their bodies, and to learn how to live in a country and home that expects you to have to do that.

Book #6: Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson

Oh man. I can't believe I haven't read more Brandon Sanderson before last year. It is just so enjoyable and so much fun to get into the worlds he has created. Mistborn is the start of a trilogy, about a group of peasants and con men rising up to take over the tyrannical and immortal Lord Ruler of their empire. One of the main characters is Vin, a young street urchin who has spent her life cowering in street corners and trying not to die. She is discovered eventually to be a Mistborn, meaning that she has Allomantic powers, where she can burn metals inside her and use them to do all sorts of magical things. She becomes part of the crew that is training to overthrow the Empire, and her whole life changes. By the end of the book, the rebellion happens, along with all sorts of dramatic things (like the death of the Lord Ruler)--but it's unsure where things are going to go from there (leading on to the next sequel!).

I really enjoyed this book. Just like The Way of Kings by Sanderson, it took me a few chapters to get into it and to really understand what was going on. But I think that's probably how all fantasy books work, since there's a whole world that you need to be introduced to. Once I got into it, though, I was super happy about it and very invested in the plot, which moved really quickly and kept me hooked the whole time. My one complaint was that maybe the characters weren't as well developed in this book as they were in The Way of Kings. I know that the other books are bigger, heavier, and meant to be a whole epic ten-book series, which gives a lot more space for character development. But I was not quite believing how Vin could change so rapidly from a terrified, untrusting, abandoned orphan street urchin to fitting in so well with the new crew as she did. She did struggle for a little bit, but the transition seemed to happen way more quickly than it probably should have to overcome her previous ENTIRE LIFE. I also was a little annoyed with the romantic storyline about Vin and her nobleman, Elend, she falls in love with. They met like twice and they both were totally interested in the other? It just seems a little too convenient and not quite believable to me. It was the sort of quick romance you only read about in books, which is to say, not uncommon in books and not an absolutely terrible thing about this book, but not something that sold me on it. Elend had basically no personality in this book either--I couldn't really figure out what he was about or why Vin was so interested in him.

Regardless, I am definitely heading on to read the other two books in the trilogy next. There is apparently another trilogy--or set of four books, whatever that would be called--set in the same world, but just a couple of centuries later, but we'll see if I enjoy these books enough to sign up to read another four books on the same thing. I have so many other things on my to-read list.

Book #5: No-Drama Discipline by Daniel J. Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson

I don't remember where I heard about this book, but even though they're kind of annoying, I find parenting books to be pretty interesting these days. Usually when I'm reading a parenting book, I'm half-irritated with the broad claims that they're making and with imagining myself to be becoming a non-thinking obsessive follower of this parenting cult that the authors are espousing. But then I'm also very aware of the flaws that I have as a parent (usually stemming from being too quick to react and get mad) so I'd be happy to get any sort of help with stemming the tide of bad feelings or conflicts between me and our one parentable child at this point. I speed-read (past tense) this book over the last few days because I didn't feel like it was worth the energy to deeply peruse it, but there were definitely some excellent points that I (or anyone) could use if they are so inclined.

The point of this book is to help parents move away from a traditional, punitive view of discipline and to get them thinking about discipline as a teaching maneuver instead. When you're responding to a conflict or a negative interaction with your child, instead of getting angry, sending them to a time-out, or doling out punishments, you should first connect with your child and then redirect their attention towards repairing the problem. Make it a teaching moment instead of a scary punishment. As I was reading this, I couldn't help thinking, over and over again, just, "Well, yeah..." because it all sounds like a pretty self-explanatory, "in an ideal world" concept. The whole reason why parents don't calmly and lovingly respond to every fight or conflict is because they lose their tempers, right? So just telling us to not lose our tempers isn't really going to help, right? But I guess thinking about the reasoning about why "connecting and redirecting" is better might be motivational. (It's better because when kids are acting out, it's usually more of a cry for help or a need for love and attention more than it is an attempt to be bad, and because their brains aren't fully developed and need guidance to help them become fully working humans. And it's better because it's more effective.)

I was annoyed with some parts, like this: "Ultimately, our job is to give unconditional love and calm presence to our kids even when they're at their worst. Especially when they're at their worst." Okay, no pressure there. Let's always be calm and loving and never lose our tempers. But honestly, the authors were pretty open and acknowledging of the fact that nobody's perfect and that we all make mistakes. They had a couple of great stories as an appendix of some of their own greatest parenting fails. And there was some great information in there, which I mostly thought was great because I've seen the success with it in some of my best parenting moments of late with Dane--which stand out to me because of their stark contrast with all of the much-more-common not-so-great parenting moments.

• One of the best ways to connect with kids--and to de-escalate a situation--is to get down on their level instead of towering over them angrily. It helps them to not feel threatened or in trouble and it can help you to calm down and catch your breath. Just today, I was frustrated with Dane for peeing on the floor (and not telling me about it) and at first I was standing over him talking kind of angrily, but when I bent down and looked him in the eye and said, "Buddy, I'm not mad--but please tell me if you that happens again," he immediately stopped arguing with me. I can and should do this more often. 
• "The bottom line is that we can be intentional about the verbal and nonverbal messages we're sending, especially when we're trying to connect with our children in a difficult moment." I think this is what it all comes down to--acting intentionally instead of just letting the emotions of the moment carry us and our actions. That's what we're trying to keep them from doing when we stop a tantrum, right? So we need to not go into tantrums ourselves.
• "Just pause. Allow yourself to take a breath. Avoid reacting, issuing consequences, or even lecturing in the heat of the moment." I realized this a few years ago, but I still have trouble with putting it into action. I can do it maybe half of the time. Things work so much better when I do and when I stop myself from throwing my adult temper tantrums.
• Allow your kids to be involved in the process of discipline. Let them come up with the solutions to the problem. When you do, kids feel more respected, they're more likely to comply with the solutions and apt to cooperate, and things go a lot smoother. I've done this a few times with Dane, even at only 3, and it really makes him feel like a grown-up. Even when doing his New Year's Resolutions, which were mostly suggestions from Tommy and I, really made him feel like he was contributing. And I can refer to that now and say, "Do you remember how one of your goals was to try to obey? Do you think you can try to do that more now?"
• Use a conditional yes instead of a no. I do this all the time. "Yes, let's have some fruit snacks after lunch!" It works like a charm. Most of the time.
• Focus on the positive, emphasize what you do want them to do instead of what you don't want them to do. When I keep this in mind, I am so much more likely to get Dane on board with me. When we allow things to devolve into negatives, he starts pushing back more and more until it's just terrible. 
• Creative approaches are crucial. I have thought about this so much lately. I used to just rage at problems until they would go away--or not go away. Like Dane's naps. I used to get so mad when he wouldn't nap. But there's no amount of getting mad that would actually solve that problem. If I want to actually make that problem better, I need to approach it differently. I recently got really creative with solving our current nap issue. Dane has stopped napping altogether, which is fine--I still have him go into his room and have "naptime" on his bed. He falls asleep maybe once a week. The rest of the time I let him read books and tell himself stories. But for the last week or two he was yelling for me nonstop (because he's been well-trained not to leave his bed), which was making me so mad. Getting mad at him won't stop him yelling though--so I changed the rules and told him he could come out if he needed to go potty. I got him MnM rewards if he went potty before his nap instead of during it. And I gave him a clock in his room so he knows when he's done and he doesn't need to yell for me constantly. And the last few days, it's been working perfectly. I know we'll need future adjustments, but I feel so much more prepared for facing issues like these now. I can handle it because I know it usually just takes me trying from a different angle.

Book #4: Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

This is one of the classics that I wanted to read last year but never got around to it until January. I powered through it during naptime today because I wanted to have finished at least four books this month! I didn't get to read as much this month as I would have because I spent almost every nap time working on my class stuff and planning for the semester. Things are a little more calm now so I should have at least one or two days a week I can read, plus more in the evenings too.

So anyway--this book. I read it on my iPhone since I couldn't find a good copy at the library, which means I did most of my reading while at the gym this month. I knew the basic story of Robinson Crusoe, of course (although it was only a few years ago that I found out it wasn't Robinson CArusoe instead of Crusoe) and I remember learning in college that it was the first novel written in English (although now that I look that up there are a lot of books that claim that privilege). I feel like this is one I should have read eons ago because of that little tidbit, but now I finally have. I enjoyed the first half of the novel the best, where he describes how he ended up on the island and how he made his life there. I think that must be a normal human trait, to be fascinated by these survival techniques. He's like the original survivor reality TV show, getting dropped on an island and having to survive and figure out how to get food for himself. It reminded me of some parts of the Little House on the Prairie series, where she goes into such descriptive detail about how they did all of these little now-extinct processes for providing the most basic requirements of life. He figures out how to hunt and breed the goats native to the island, he makes grapes and plants corn and barley, he builds and protects his little home and makes baskets and pots and a wheat mill and all sorts of things--and he tells in detail how he managed them. I thought this was the most interesting part.

I kind of lost interest when the focus of the story became more on Friday, the native that he saved from the savages and made his servant. Crusoe is incredibly imperialistic and dismissive of Friday's background (as can only be expected in a book published in 1719) but it's a little uncomfortable to read in today's day and age. Eventually they save more hostages and after that are rescued by a stranded English ship that happens to end up by the island. The book ends with a few other kind of random adventures (like him traveling through France to get back to England and being set upon by 300 wolves) which are very anticlimactic-feeling. But I guess since this was among the first novels ever, you can't complain that he didn't follow a traditional novelistic plot line.

Crusoe talks a lot about his religion and how at first he didn't really believe in God or live as he should, but that he becomes more devout the more time he spends on the island (where he has a Bible he scrounged from the ship). I thought it was really interesting to read what I imagine was a common view of God at the time (Defoe's view?), that God was actively doing everything TO him, that his life was a punishment or a reward for what he did, instead of my belief that God knows what is happening to us and helps us to deal with our trials, but that it's not all just reactionary like that. I actually really liked some of the things Defoe described, particularly when Crusoe is recognizing his gratitude to God for his blessings instead of the obvious trials of living alone on an island. He says, "In a word, as my life was a life of sorrow in one way, so it was a life of mercy another, and I wanted noting to make it a life of comfort but to be able to make my sense of God's goodness to me, and care over me in this condition, be my daily consolation... I learned to look more upon the bright side of my condition, and less upon the dark side, and to consider what I enjoyed rather than what I wanted; and this gave me sometimes such secret comforts, that I cannot express them; and which I take notice of here, to put those discontented people in mind of it, who cannot enjoy comfortably what God has given them, because they see and covet something that He has not given them. All our discontents about what we want appeared to me to spring from the want of thankfulness for what we have." Although I KNOW that Crusoe is an imaginary character going through an imaginary thing, I want to remember that idea--that even a guy on a desert island can be grateful for his blessings and focus on the positive, and so can I.

Book #3: Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

This book tells the story of Julie and Maddie, two friends who meet each other working in the war effort in England during WWII. Maddie is a pilot--a girl who loves to tinker and work as a mechanic, on motorbikes and later planes--and Julie is a translator and later interrogator. The first half of the book is written from Julie's perspective, the second from Maddie's, and both halves describe how they met and got to know each other, and what happens to them after they get caught behind enemy lines in France. Julie is caught by the Gestapo and is being tortured for information, while Maddie is sheltered by the Resistance and ends up helping as much as she can. So Julie's story comes in the form of a confession about what she knows to the Gestapo questioners, and Maddie's story is a journal/record she keeps while in hiding.

I thought this was a solid, enjoyable book. However, I feel like the invented mediums (the confession and the journal) kept getting in the way of my ability to believe what was being written. I kept thinking, "There's no way she'd need to write all of this detail about how she met Maddie in her confession to the Gestapo." And "She'd never write this poetically if she's just writing in her own journal she's going to keep herself." Maddie even says at one point, (something like), "I wish I were a better writer so that I could write about the rich mixture of fear and boredom I feel every day"--and goes on to write this long detailed description about how she's scared and bored at the same time (and "rich mixture"? In a journal? From a mechanic and not a poet? Come on). It just kept bothering me the whole time, almost to the point of detracting from the story itself. I really did like the story, and learning about Maddie and Julie, both in very unlikely positions from someone of their gender. I especially liked Maddie's half more than Julie's, where Maddie is trying to piece together what happened to Julie and how to help her. It was a pretty heartbreaking climax, which actually took me by surprise (but I feel like part of it was because there wasn't enough build-up to it; it just randomly happened without any warning, but I guess that's pretty likely in real life anyways). Also, I was really feeling done with WWII novels with a female protagonist after All the Light We Cannot See (which was a clearly superior novel, no doubt). All in all, I'd say this was a solid 3 stars for me.

Book #2: Emma by Alexander McCall Smith

This is another one of the Austen Project modernized versions of Jane Austen's books. And although I really liked the other ones, as far as I remember, this one was just terrible. I enjoyed it for maybe half of the way through, but it left me wondering if Smith had ever even READ Austen's original. Everything included in the book was shortened and way less interesting. The premise of the Austen Project is that the authors are rewriting Austen's books for the modern day, and I think that's part of the problem for this book--it doesn't work for this setting. I just think part of the problem with this book is that Emma's flaws, which are annoying but pretty understandable in a 19th century character, are completely not acceptable in 2015. Emma in this version comes across as completely spoiled, totally unaware of the rest of the world and all of the people who aren't as well off as she is, and basically a complete brat. And although she is still all of those things in the original, she has more positive qualities that redeem her throughout the book, and her transformation is much more rewarding at the end. And according to the society at the time, she was kind of expected to be and act better off than everyone around her, so it's more forgivable. You can sense her real regret and repentance after she realizes where she's been wrong. This Emma--no on all of those things. Smith does not AT ALL give you a good, well-rounded portrait of her as a character. And don't even talk to me about George Knightley, who is one of the best of Austen's heroes, and who shows up approximately three times in the book and there is literally NO HINT that they would be interested in each other. It seems more likely that Emma would turn out to be a lesbian interested in Harriet Smith than she would be with Knightley at the end (since Smith kept hinting at it throughout, which was obnoxious also). Smith also felt so unsure about whether he'd made the point that he wanted to with Emma that he actually SAYS the moral near the end: "It had been an important summer for Emma, as it had been the summer during which moral insight came to her – something that may happen to all of us, if it happens at all, at very different stages of our lives." Ummm, thank you. It was helpful for you to spell that out because IT WASN'T OBVIOUS FROM THE STORY. The only redeeming thing that I liked about this rewrite was how Smith gave a lot of backstory to all of the characters to explain them, which was kind of fun to read (particularly Emma's father, Mr. Woodhouse). Unfortunately, this backstory ended up supplanting the actual plot of the story, so oh well.

Basically, DON'T read this. Stick with the original.

Book #1 of 2016: All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

I can't tell you how many times I've meant to read this book and never did. So this year, I asked for it for Christmas from my parents (they usually give us each a book for Christmas) and I knew I had to get through it now! At first, I didn't really want to read this, because all I really knew about it was that it was a WWII novel about a young girl, and I felt like I'd read a lot of those lately (aka The Book Thief, Kate Morton's books, etc.). But I'd heard such good things about it that I knew it was worth checking out. And it was definitely worth it.

The book follows Marie-Laure, who is blind and lives with her father near the Natural History Museum in Paris, where he works as the principal locksmith. As she gets older, he spends a lot of time working with her to help her become independent and to be able to find her way around without him to guide her. And when the war comes, they escape to St. Malo, a small beach town where her great-uncle lives. The other principal character is Werner, a German boy living in an orphanage, who is interested in the natural world and wants to be able to figure everything out. His life is changed when he finds a radio in the trash and is able to get it to work, and he and his sister are able to listen to broadcasts from around Europe and to get a little bit of information and introduction to the outside world. He is sent to a paramilitary school and as the war gets closer to the end, he's sent out to use his math/engineering skills to track down other radio users. He and Marie end up in the same town, while St. Malo is being bombed by the Americans to get the Germans out, and their radios help their paths to cross.

I loved both of the characters' storylines in this book, but Marie-Laure's more so. She wasn't a typical "super-strong adolescent female character" which is so overplayed and tiring right now, but as she says in the book, she just got up every day and lived her life like she had to. She is very interested in the world around her as she can access it, through sounds and through tactile interaction, and she becomes alive as she goes to the beaches and touches the seashells there. I loved how Doerr writes about the seashells and about the things Marie touches, and I loved how he writes about the radio connections throughout the war. I feel a little silly that I didn't really understand the main focus on the importance of radio throughout the book as I read it--I was trying so hard to get through the story and to see what happens to Marie that I didn't put two and two together. But this morning I listened to this interview with the author and it's clear that was his main focus in writing it--to write about the French radio resistance against the Germans. Werner and Marie's uncle were on opposite sides of the radio fight and it all narrowed down to the end, where Marie is reading over the radio and Werner is listening to her over his receiver. It is almost magical how they end up connected through the radio at the end, and how it helps Werner to save Marie, and it doesn't feel forced at all.

I loved how every word in this book felt particularly chosen and purposeful. The story and the language were both beautiful. Doerr talks about how he had the idea for the book because he was thinking about what a miracle it is that we can talk to people we cannot see just by using little packets of light to send messages spinning through the air over radio waves (today using cell phones, back then using radio). There are so many beautiful points throughout the book and underlying messages. I think I should read it again, now that I know what happens, in order to get all of the little things from it.