In search of a good book

I just finished American Gods by Neil Gaiman, and I think the man is a genius!  Last year I read his Graveyard book and enjoyed it very much.  Working in a school, I tend to read young adult, children's books and for some reason I just assumed the Gaiman only writes for kids.  It was therefore something of a shock to get to the second line in American Gods and he dropped the f bomb.  A quick readjustment of thoughts and everything was good again.  In the end I realized I loved the book, for the moments of truth I read in it.

I died in June.  I came back, clearly, but I just like saying it like that "I died in June."  it's dramatic, sure.  But also it's a finish, the me I was, I died in June.  It says very plainly, I am not the person I was before, there was a death, and oddly a strange mourning period as well.  I will go into this experience at some point, I want to put it down to remember it, because I learned a lot that needs to be remembered.  It's that remembering that causes me trouble and ties in with American Gods, there is an entire speel about struggling to remember the things you learned when you were dead.  Now I don't know that I learned anything when I was dead, but the coming back, that gave me a lot to think about.  And it's hard to keep those thoughts fresh when everyday life drowns out the voice within.

I wonder if it's because we aren't meant to realize how amazing we are.  The world would be turned on it's ear if we all walked around believing we are incredible works of art.  Which we are, hell yes we are.  But knowing it, some of us are born with that knowledge and some of us, like me, have to go through something to even glimpse a tiny portion of what is within us.  So I died, and came back and realized life is short and you gotta move in the direction of your dreams because tomorrow might not come.

So I started making lists, bucket lists, goals, the usual things.  All of that lead to the Planner Page, which is awesome, as I've noted a time or two before.  On the Planner Page is my decree that I will read for 20 minutes a day.  Which wasn't hard, and isn't hard, because I read all day long with kids.  I'm currently reading several young adult books, across all lower grades, at the rate of one chapter per day.  Slow going I know.  And not the sort of reading I meant.  Reading for pleasure, a book of my choice.  Therein lies the trouble.  I haven't been able to find a book that fits my current mood.  I found the last book so satisfying that thinking of what to read next froze me.  Today I decided I would further hunt up a book and have stumbled upon something that might be a jewel.  The review sounded almost like it was a peek into my life.  However upon reading into it I think she is nuttier than I am.   Open House: A Novel by Elizabeth Berg, just called to me 40-something woman going through a divorce, an 11 year old son?  Hmm I am intrigued.  I shall keep you all posted as to how it turns out.  So far it held me tight enough that listening to my son read his story to me had me glancing at the kindle anxiously, eager to read what comes next.

However I was a good mom and didn't just half listen to my son, and as a result I was treated to something I didn't really expect, a pleasant experience.  When I wasn't looking my son developed a written voice. There is humor and wit in his words.  I found myself smiling as I listened.  I think his classmates will appreciate it too.  Even if they don't, I now have a better idea of how to encourage him to participate in the Young Authors at school.  When I least expect it my son dazzles me with who he is becoming.  I'm glad for the opportunity to know him.

That was only a slight sidetrack, and an important one so I'll allow it.  My point I was getting to about searching for the type of book is that it turns out, I'm in the mood for a romance.  It happens to the best of us, though it still makes me cringe with shame.  Why would I want to waste my time reading drivel like that?  Because it's fun, and sometimes it feeds a need within me.  I think that is the case this time out.  So I should probably be reading bodice rippers or something equally sexual, maybe a nice Christine Feehan?  I've read a couple of them.  Or maybe a Stephanie Laurens?  Those ones make me all squirmy and damp.  But then maybe I already am that way and seek something else, a deeper connection?  As I type I realize that is exactly it.  It even explains the unusual turn my fantasy has taken recently.  It's not enough to have pervy sex, no, I want to hear the tender words too.  So not like me but, maybe that's part of the new me as well.  She catches me by surprise, how amazing the woman I am, is.

Today has ended on a high note, I am thinking I satisfied so many of my tasks today, even the ones that are personal to me, reading, writing and there are just too many things I am grateful for today to even find a single one;  grateful for my son, for my mom, for my life, for the simple joy of crossing off a to do from the list, friends, fall weather and the beauty of the season.  Far too many things for me to pick just one, but damn it feels good to list them here.  November is coming and with that the new tradition I want to create for my son and I, daily grateful rocks (or leaves, or acorns, or walnuts...or whatever I decide we will write on).  Each night at dinner we will write down one thing we are grateful for in our life.  So that when Thanksgiving comes around, we have felt the weight of it each day of the month.  I approve of this.  Pinterest gave me the idea!

I love, with a giant red heart love, Pinterest.  I've created posters for the classroom, activities for the students, bulletin board layouts, all from stuff I've seen there.  It just proves that a little collaboration goes far!  With the right people at the right moment, magic can happen.

I could use a bit more magic in my life...