Reading a lot can be a sign of depression setting in for me. Reading nothing at all is a gigantic neon sign that the depression has settled in, made itself at home, and is inviting guests over for loud raucus parties. The first two titles were read back in October. NOTHING was finished in November, although I dabbled in a couple of books. And the last two were read on December 30th after a trip to the library. Two books in one day — seems like a good sign, don’t you think?

Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven, by Fannie Flagg
From the jacket: “Life is the strangest thing. One minute, Mrs. Elner Shimfissle is up in her tree, picking figs, and the next things she knows she is off on an adventure she never dreamed of, running into people she never in a million years expected to meet. Meanwhile, back home, Elner’s nervous, high-strung niece Norma faints and winds up in bed with a cold rag on her head; Elner’s neighbor Vergena rushes immediately to the Bible; her truck driver friend, Luther Griggs, whom Elner has known since he was a boy, runs his eighteen-wheeler into a ditch — and the entire town is thrown for a loop and left wondering, ‘What is life all about, anyway?’ Except for Tot Whooten,who owns Tot’s Tell It Like It Is beauty shop. Her main concern is that the world might come to an end before she can collect her social security.”
Why this book? Eri and Rebs both recommended it to me — separately. And when two people who have known you so well so long recommend a book by an author you already enjoy, don’t pass go, don’t collect $200. Just head to the library or the bookstore and pick it up immediately.
My take: Wow. My face ached from smiling so hard. If you want a book that makes you feel good about life (and death), this is it. This is a modern It’s a Wonderful Life without the suicidal thoughts. Go get it, now. Hurry!
Pages: 365

The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists, by Gideon Defoe
From the book jacket: “Not since Moby-Dick. … No, not since Treasure Island. … Actually, not since Jonah and the Whale has there been a sea saga to rival [this one], featuring the greatest seafaring hero of all time, the immortal Pirate Captain, who, although he lives for months at a time at sea, somehow manages to keep his beard silky and in good contdition. Worried that his pirates are growing bored with a life of winking at pretty native ladies and trying to stick enough jellyfish together to make a bouncy castle, the Pirate Captain decides it’s high time to spearhead an adventure. While searching for some major pirate booty, he mistakenly attacks the young Charles Darwin’s Beagle and then leads his ragtag crew from the exotic Galapagos Islands to the fog-filled streets of Victorian London. There they encounter grisly murder, vanishing ladies, radioactive elephants, and the Holy Ghost itself. And that’s not even the half of it.”
Why this book? It was on sale, came in a clever two books-for-one packaging, and got a good review from NPR.
My take: Not as good as I’d hoped. Defoe might be one of those authors who is taking postmodernism to new and ridiculously annoying levels. Or he could be poking fun at our pre-established literary stereotypes. But I tired of the characters far faster than I wanted. But I did appreciate some of his jokes and references and anachronisms, especially when it came to the pirate who ate Starburst instead of citrus fruits — and who ultimately died of scurvy.
Pages: 101

A Highland Christmas, by M.C. Beaton
From the book jacket: “In the dark, wintry highlands of Lochdubh, Scotland, the spirit of Old St. Nick is about as welcome as a flat tire on a deserted road. … Now it’s up to Hamish to make things right. He has to protect an unhappy girl, unlock the secrets of a frightened old woman, and retrieve some stolen holiday goods. And he had better do it quickly, for the church bells will soon toll, and all of Lochdubh will be forced to face another dreary winter. …”
Why this book? I’ve said it before, the Hamish Macbeth series of books is comfort food to me. And I needed comfort — and a little more Christmas in my life.
My take: We were going for mashed potatoes here, not spinach. And it seems to have served its appointed purpose because here I am talking about books again, right?
Pages: 129

The Shepherd, the Angel, and Walter the Christmas Miracle Dog, by Dave Barry
From the book jacket: “The year is 1960, and as it is every year, the Christmas pageant at St. John’s Episcopal Church, directed by Mrs. Elkins, who used to be in The Theater in New York, and who is tall and skinny with hair the color of the orange part of a candy corn, is a very big deal. Doug is a shepherd this year, which is better than being a Three King, because, for one thing, you get to carry a stick. There are problems everywhere, however. His fellow shepherds are hacking around, which makes Mrs. Elkins yell at all of them; the girl he likes is playing Mary opposite a Joseph who is depressingly smart and athletic and cute; the family dog is doing very poorly, and they have no idea what they’re going to tell Doug’s little sister, Becky, who’s playing one of the Host of Angels and who loves the dog more than anything; and his dad’s just gotten a flat tire, which means they might not even get to the pageant at all.”
Why this book? More of the desired Christmas fix. And I always enjoy Barry’s columns.
My take: Short but sweet. I’m glad I got it from the library rather than the bookstore, though, because short it was. Sort of a real-life The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Kind of.
Pages: 117

Total number of books read during 2006: 47
Total page count from those books (give or take a few pages): 12,568

That’s it. Stay tuned tomorrow for 2006’s Best of Books post. There are some great ones in there….