OK, another public service-esque announcement:
I am so SO annoyed that I didn't know about Neil Gaiman until 2 months ago. I mean seriously you guys. My whole life? All this reading? All this discussion of books? And no one thought it necessary to say something to the effect of, "Oh, hey, so Neil Gaiman pretty much writes your imagination, attitude included"?
Call me crazy, but I think it would've been nice to know that.
Because seriously. He does. I read "For Whom the Bell Tolls" a few years ago, and it was like reading my own stream of consciousness. But this is like...my stream of consciousness...in a really really good mood. Because my good moods don't take the form of squealing deliriousness or all-around positivity. They're just...good. They're realistic, bemused, they muse, and they come up with ridiculous ideas.
I read "American Gods" a little while ago, and today I finished "Stardust" which is the fairy tale I should've had growing up (although I should note my mom told us the original versions of fairy tales as kids, instead of the Disneyed-up versions, which I totes appreciate). And even though the movie takes a LOT of liberties with the storyline, the plot and the aesthetic are really true to the book, and Claire Danes is SO PERFECT as Yvaine. So. Perfect.
Also re-read the middle 2 books of the "Wicked" series last week (I would've re-read "Wicked" for the fourth time, but I couldn't find it). Or I guess I just read them. Because I attempted "Son of a Witch" once before and couldn't get through it, and then never even picked up "A Lion Among Men." But last week I did, in preparation for the new and final book, "Out of Oz" and I'm SO glad. They were both incredible. Stressful and dark and clever, and I'm so so excited to buy the newest book. Maybe today. In, like, an hour.
Speaking of buying books, today is the APW Book Buy. Yes. That's a thing. Meg Keene, the writer of APW, wrote a book about planning weddings for marriages, not in spite of them. Which is, you know. Rare. Really rare. I bought a copy earlier, and you probably should too. Even if you're married. Or never going to get married. Or hate books. Just buy the effing book. And then give it to someone less curmudgeony for crissakes.