Hyper-focus vs. Distraction
Title:ADHD According to Zoe
Author: Zoe Kessler
Genre: Self-help / Memoir
Length: 208 pages
I’ve been called obnoxious, eccentric, and neurotic. I’ve been called charming and passionate. I’ve been called awkward and introverted, I’ve been called enticing, engaging, and the life of the party.
I have been accused of inattentiveness. And of over attentiveness. Sometimes from the same people.
I’ve been compared to those with extreme anxiety and to those with manic depressive disorders. I’ve also been told that I’m none of those things and am quite normal – by some not-so-normal people.
I’m typically punctual, but it takes me two hours, careful planning, and a color coded calendar I’ve maintained since childhood to remember I have an engagement in the first place.
Apparently, these are things that fall in line with the potential to be diagnosed as ADHD – which I find rather interesting. I’ve often viewed ADHD as a bogus excuse for people to be rude and frazzled, and to be chronically late to work (when I have taken such great care to not be late).
I, too, forget to eat or use the restroom because I don’t notice it needs to be done until I am near famished and shaking with hunger or my bladder feels like it is about to explode. Then I gorge myself until people are genuinely in awe that so much food can go into such a tiny human, and try to remind myself to schedule a bathroom break.
I nervously remove myself from the house to go on walks or bike rides. I’ve always been actively involved in independent sports and often been a bit of a work out junky.
The house must be spotless before I sit down to do things – especially things like homework when I was in college – but once sitting I dive into intense “hyper-focus” as Kessler calls it – oblivious to my dogs, any noise, and often leaving my child to choose to do a parallel activity on her own. She builds with her blocks while I read. She paints while I write. We day dream together, but separately. I have to purposefully schedule ‘homeschool’ time so that it is not neglected.
When my hyper-focus is gone, so are my eyelashes as I have absentmindedly plucked them out with my ever moving fingers.
I need to see people, but then I am overwhelmed at public gatherings. There is so much noise that I tune it all out and hear or understand almost nothing. At the same time, even though I may not hear a timer buzz when I am focused, the slightest noise when I am unfocused pains my ears greatly. I often complain to my husband that music is too loud, or the fan blowing keeps me awake, but someone yelling at me across a bar may go completely unnoticed.
I don’t know if I have ADHD. I took that Jasper/ Goldberg test and got an 84. Supposedly, anything over 70 is a good indicator you might be. I don’t care to find out, however. Even though, I’m sure my husband would love to understand why the floors and walls are thoroughly disinfected and free of visible particles, but the laundry is never properly folded and God only knows where I dropped the mail. But I do know that I identify greatly with Kessler’s memoir and I think it is a worthwhile read for anyone – not just those seeking information about ADHD.
It is good for the general population to understand that what is done automatically for some takes a lot of work and practice for others. For me, just getting out of bed involves a mental checklist, a peep at the day planner, and a journal consultation for any previous lists as well as an opportunity to write another list. Not to mention that once I am out, the process of making coffee in my french press is how I time my moseying. Ten minutes to boil water, three minutes to steep. If my moseying is not timed, I’ll never get out of my pajamas, remember to brush my teeth, brush my hair, or leave the house. The dogs will not get to go potty if I am not simultaneously dumping coffee grounds in the garden. Miss one step, and the whole day is lost to me. My calendar never leaves my bedside and I forget I had a lunch date.
If I have ADHD, I think it has been pretty counter balanced by the stimulation and hyper-focus required to get through my GT classes growing up. My choir director required a color-coded paper day planner. My mother required ledgers and lists. My father, the ex-boyscout had a constant mantra: “Always be prepared and always be fifteen minutes early!”
It doesn’t mean that my mind doesn’t do exactly what Kessler describes. Especially her “commune with nature” bit. Without my walks in the woods, I definitely “become cranky, confused, and mentally foggy.”
Instead, it means, that somehow through a lot of self-awareness, self-discovery, panic attacks, and then some… I’ve managed to create in my life goals and careers a little cocoon of an existence that eliminates a lot of the frustrations and issues that could come about for an ADHD person.
I work from home and Kessler says, “Finding work that’s meaningful to you is key. If you’re hypersensitive, consider self-employment.”
She offers advice that I have already taken… Little things like I know I lose my keys about three times a day – I have never lost them in public though because the first thing I did when I got keys was put a climbing hook on one of the key chains so I could fasten them to my belt loop (I almost always wear jeans). I did this at seventeen because my father always told me, “You’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on.” So I found a way to screw my keys on, basically.
To the bane of my husband’s existence, I never remember to put them into the key bowl (maybe six out of ten times they make it where they belong… other times they may be found in the freezer, the pantry, the counter, the bathrooms, my bag, another bag…). Many times I have posted facebook status requests for one of my friends to call my phone, because I have no idea where my hands let go of it.
I know people who were diagnosed young and as adults they seem to have this idea that they are not responsible – for their actions, their tardiness, or their bills even. My sensitivity, I think, is limited to physical sensations, because I’ve always thought With everything I go through to get it together, you can too. If I can do it, anyone can do it. Impulsively I have said this, without tact, out loud.
Self awareness is important but diagnosis, I think, can be rocky waters. Kessler seems to walk this road with finesse, owning up to feelings she has hurt while making sure she pursues endeavors that will work with her ADHD, rather than against it.
I like her writing style and look forward to picking up a copy of her first book (perhaps another sign of ADHD as I confess my hoarding tendencies): “Adoption Reunions.”
The most familiar part of the whole book:
As for my shoulder-length hair, I put it up, then down, then up, then down throughout the day. I constantly fidget and fuss with it, something others have commented on repeatedly. […] a loose strand on my neck or the side of my cheek drives me crazy. To get it off my neck, I’ll bunch it up in a knot. Before long, it feels like someone is driving brass knuckles into my skull just where I’ve knotted my hair, so down it comes.
Not long after that, she writes: “Flashing lights, large crowds, and emergency vehicle sirens can be unbearable.”
Every day, Zoe, every day I am with you.
Goals are the Gas in Your Car
Title: Life Is Hard But God Is Good
Author: L. Jay Horton
Genre: Self-Help
Length: 233 pages
My best days usually involve me waking up earlier – before my child wakes me up. I mosey through the kitchen, I get my coffee, I read something ‘too serious for late at night’ usually Augustine or the bible or something that my newly awake mind can handle better than my sleepy, tired mind can. I write for awhile, I read something not-so-serious but with a positive spin, and then of course am interrupted by my child for toast. After toast, all bets are off and it’s whatever I am in the mood or have time for that gets read.
Those are my ‘best’ days, not every day. But my best days have included a few minutes with L. Jay Horton post ‘too serious reading.’ He’s good for a little motivational pep talk and reminds me of things that I really need to remember – like staying positive, not letting other peoples’ negativity get me down, and enjoying the setting of goals. I love goals. I’ve always been big on goals – that’s why I named my review “Goals are the Gas in Your Car” because it’s my favorite thing that Horton said in the whole book. And the book is full of some good stuff.
I’m typically leery of pep talk books. The likes of Joel Osteen make me nervous. I hear the skepticism of my father in my head when I see him, “Of course he’s smiling, he’s taking all your money.” But Horton is genuine. I’ve met him in person, worked with him at book signings, enjoyed coffee over the enigma of the twitter-spere – Horton wants good things for people and his book is all about him sharing the things he’s learned about achieving good things in life.
Horton’s book feels a lot like a lukewarm bible study, but it’s really meant for your professional life. Wake up each morning, read a chapter, go back to the grindstone with a smile on your face and productivity in your heart… success will follow. He talks about the importance of greeting your coworkers with a hello and a smile, about not chatting it up with the people who bring negativity to you, and the importance of goal setting. It’s all common sense stuff that is so easy to lose sight of if you’re not being reminded of it every day.
All in all, Horton’s book is full of good stuff and I look forward to reading more of his work in the future. And I know there will be more work from him to read, because Horton still has goals – after all goals are the gas in his car.
Fairy Bell (and Fizz)
Title: Fairy Bell Sisters: Sylva and the Fairy Ball
Author: Margaret McNamara
Illustrator: Julia Denos
Kiddo is on a Peter Pan kick. We’re reading bits of Peter Pan every night before bed. She’s watching the Disney movie as I type this. A few months back she watched the ballet.
Not just Peter Pan, though. She loves ALL things Neverland. Jake & the Neverland Pirates is a huge favorite and she’s dying for the lego set. I’m making her wait until her birthday. Speaking of birthdays, the child wants a Neverland themed party. She will dress as Tinker Bell, she says, someone must be Peter Pan. Everyone else has to be a lost boy. If we could get one of the grandfathers or uncles to be Captain Hook I think the girl might die of happiness on the spot. She loves Captain Hook. Also, she has an unusual amount of adoration for crocodiles and clocks.
So, naturally, when she saw a book at the library with a fairy she squealed, “Tinka Bell.” Her “er” sounds don’t always makes it all the way out of her mouth. She’s only three. I explained that the book was about Tinker Bell’s little sisters. She was blinded by fairy wings and shoved them in the library bag.
Warning to other Moms: THIS IS NOT A STORY ABOUT TINKER BELL.
Or Neverland.
My daughter had to remind me of this on nearly every page. I cannot express enough how disappointed she was…
Until the TROLLS arrived.
Apparently we are a troll-loving family. Both me and my daughter loved The Three Billy Goats Gruff (my grandmother read it to me when I spent the night at her house and kiddo has her own updated version we read all the time).
She is fascinated by The Hobbit. Mostly, I think, for the troll scene. She has seen the live action movie, but she relishes the 1970’s cartoon.
And of course – we adore Fizz & Peppers. I adore Fizz & Peppers and I think she loves it a bit because I do – but it is heaven. And full of trolls.
Ultimately, she enjoyed the book, but decided she didn’t want to read the rest of the series yet. At the end of the Fairy Bell ball story there is a blueberry birthday cake – and a blueberry fairy cake recipe. So, naturally, we baked. Oddly enough, we had freshly picked blueberries in our fridge… picked by M.G. King (the author of Fizz & Peppers!) and delivered to our house!
Another odd coincidence for this reading adventure… take a look at these chapters:
The books have nothing in common. And somehow managed to have everything in common. It was one of those reading experiences where we could not sit down and read one without thinking of the other. Note: Chapter three of the Fairy Bell Sisters book ends on that page. On the next page begins chapter four.
Til the next reading adventure…
Book to Movie Confessions
As a book lover, it’s inevitable that two movies would have been on my viewing roster for 2013 – The Great Gatsby and The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones.
As a literary snob, it’s inevitable that I’ll tell you The Great Gatsby is marvelous and rich and The Mortal Instruments are teen franchise fluff. (Teen franchise fluff that I read and re-read.)
As someone who has worked on indie film crews with family in the not-so-indie industry, I’ll tell you that The Great Gatsby was the more phenomenal film. Baz Luhrmann is incredible.
But here is my confession:
When the house is too quiet… when I need something on the television to pass the time between books… when I’m ruminating on the world at large – it’s not The Great Gatsby that I play on repeat.
I gave a review of the film when I first saw it. I was late to the party, I don’t rush to the theatres anymore. The crowds overwhelm me. I can muster up the energy to exist in a crowd, but I pick and choose those moments carefully. I need to be moving (like on a bike) or listening to an amazing band. Opening night at a theatre has to be for something really special and I’d prefer advance notice. I’ve aged into a curmudgeon, I suppose.
I’m not changing my initial review. That would be unfair. I don’t like editing much – I had those thoughts – they existed. I still agree with them even. But I’m not sure “fell flat” is how I would currently describe the movie. Not after a month of having it be my go to television time. I read 14 books in June, but when I wasn’t reading, I was watching a heck of a lot of The Mortal Instruments.
I clean my house to it. I sort through closets with it on. I have to take breaks from it to go teach ABCs and plan history lessons. But still, it’s there when I come back and I find it comforting.
I think it’s because it is a story I can half be involved in while I’m doing something else… a story that is easy to relate to not because of the angels and demons and typical boy-girl romance, but because there are some things you never grow out of. There are both beautiful and awkward memories that stay with you. There are moments I can see so clearly in my head from my own life when I hear someone say a line a certain way.
Teen franchises are so popular because – well, we’ve all been teens before.
More than the romance, the camaraderie of a group of people so devoted to their cause is what draws me to adventure stories like this one.
And yes, I like to joke a bit and say that it’s because I can’t get enough of Jamie Campbell Bower’s face. But obviously, when he’s there on screen, it’s Jace’s face. And ultimately, it takes a lot more than a face to get me to watch a movie a dozen or so times – it takes talent and a true tribute to a work of art and I think they did their best. Even if it didn’t quite live up to my lofty expectations, I think everyone involved honored Clare’s work better than anyone else could have.
I may just go to the theatre when City of Ashes comes out.
How to Achieve True Boredom
Title: How to Achieve True Greatness
Author: Baldesar Castiglione
Publisher: Penguin (Great Ideas)
The Penguin Great Ideas Books are usually my go to source of reading something in one sitting. If not that, I toss them in my bag or back pocket for a walk in the woods or for waiting room entertainment.
How to Achieve True Greatness did not live up to my expectations.
This was 93 pages of pure boredom.
I picked it up – read some pages – put it down. I took it to the bathtub with me only to find myself wanting to get out of the tub faster to pick a different book.
There were some bits about twenty pages in that interested me long enough for the book to start redeeming itself, but then I later lost interest again.
Not your best, world history masters, not your best.
Song for Papa Crow
Title: Song for Papa Crow
Author: Marit Menzin
Publisher: Schiffer Publishing
Genre: Children’s Picture Book
I was delighted to have Schiffer Publishing contact me to review a selection of their picture books. There can never be too many children’s books here in the Klemm household, as kiddo devours them for breakfast, elevenses, lunch, dinner, and bedtime. We’re readers. We read. We’re also artists and we love admiring quality picture books.
As a homeschool mom of an aspiring birder, I couldn’t find Song for Papa Crow any more perfect.
This is a lovely story about how Little Crow loves to sing. He sings his heart out and in the course of teaching children what birds of North America make what sounds, we also follow Little Crow on a a journey of self-discovery and why it’s a beautiful thing to be yourself.
Menzin’s collage art is gorgeous. Kiddo and I adore all the rich colors. We spend a good deal of time outdoors and it’s wonderful to see nature portrayed with so much texture even while confined to the pages of a book.
Of course, after every book, I ask kiddo what she thinks. My three year old smiled broadly and responded, “I think it’s ridiculous.” Ridiculous, naturally, being pronounced ridicooooolous and said for the sheer enjoyment of using the word. Proven by the fact that she has asked for me to read “the Papa Crow one” at least twice a day since our first reading.
Now, a week later, I ask kiddo:
“Would you like to say anything about Papa Crow to our readers?”
“Yes,” she says decisively.
“What would you like to say?”
“Nothing at all, I just want it to be SEEN.”
Powerful words from a three year old, I think. She’s right, we could talk about how awesome Papa Crow is all day, but when all is said and done, Menzin’s collages simply must be seen.
Songs for Papa Crow will accompany us to Story Time at Half Price Books Humble for the next two weeks (July 2nd & 9th). We meet every Wednesday, all summer, at 10:30 am. Though we typically read multiple titles, we tend to choose a favorite to feature each week. We will also have a few Schiffer Kids Spring 2014 Catalogs for patrons of Story Time to peruse. Snacks are provided.
I look forward to reading more from Schiffer Books as well as Marit Menzin. The Klemms are officially fans for life.
A Remarkable Portrait
Title: Barabbas
Author: Par Lagerkvist
Genre: Fiction/ Literature
I’m pretty terrible about not investigating books before reading them, even more terrible about not investigating them before buying them (or bringing them home). Something moves me and immediately on impulse I add it to my collection. You never know when it might come in handy. It looks like it could be interesting on a rainy day in summer when I have no internet my daughter suddenly finds herself in a nap and my brain is somewhere between writing historical fiction and flying away in a space ship. Oh, and look, that possible moment in theoretical time happened this week.
So I picked up Barabbas, a short novel that had some vague ties to an author who had won the Nobel Prize for literature. A thin slip of a thing that might find itself in the donate pile if it didn’t prove itself worthy in an hour and a half.
It proved itself. Of course it did. The concept is too fascinating to not earn itself at least 4 stars in my very critical book.
Matthew 27: 11-26
11 Now Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus said, “You have said so.” 12 But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he gave no answer. 13 Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” 14 But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.
15 Now at the feast the governor was accustomed to release for the crowd any one prisoner whom they wanted. 16 And they had then a notorious prisoner called Barabbas. 17 So when they had gathered, Pilate said to them, “Whom do you want me to release for you: Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?” 18 For he knew that it was out of envy that they had delivered him up. 19 Besides, while he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent word to him, “Have nothing to do with that righteous man, for I have suffered much because of him today in a dream.” 20 Now the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and destroy Jesus. 21 The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” And they said, “Barabbas.” 22 Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” They all said, “Let him be crucified!” 23 And he said, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!”
24 So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood;[a] see to it yourselves.” 25 And all the people answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” 26 Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged[b] Jesus, delivered him to be crucified.
Unnecessary Summary: Barabbas was the criminal released instead of Jesus. Jesus was then crucified, the very moment that determined once and for all who would die that day.
Of course that’s a little factoid that almost every Christian knows. Many non-Christians probably know it too… Barabbas evil criminal let loose and poor Jesus killed.
I never thought about what that would mean. Not just in the grand scheme of things, but in the small ways that are epic to one and often meaningless to the masses. Barabbas – how did Barabbas feel? I never thought of it until Lagerkvist made me think about it. I picked up the book, understanding who the title referenced, but not imagining that it would be a historical piece on the person referenced – on his life, on his feelings, on his thoughts after Jesus took his place on the cross. Literally, not just in the spiritual salvation way, but physically died in his stead.
So many times we are encouraged to ruminate on Thomas (who doubted) and Peter (who denied). The thief who was admitted into paradise at the last minute, hanging on the cross next to Jesus, he’s a really big deal in the church. But Barabbas? Barabbas was just a bad dude who should have hung and died instead of our innocent savior… Really? What does that look like?
Lagerkvist tells us his version of what that looks like.
(If you’re not quite as oblivious as me, you probably already know this by the numerous film productions that have been done based on Lagerkvist’s work. You probably also know about the Marie Corelli book which inspired its own film versions. You probably know all sorts of cool things about Barabbas that I don’t. But if you don’t know anything about it all – keep reading and I’ll tell you what I think.)
This is a fascinating tale documenting the evolution of a person’s heart, the confusion of their mind as they try to sort out philosophical things in the midst of chaos and history being made. I’m startled by such a remarkable portrait.
It came out of left field. It’s been sitting on my shelf for God knows how long. And it was stunning.
It would seem that I am stunned by everything lately. The truth is, as much as I read and review here, there are four times as many books that I pick up and discard without even making it through the first chapter. (Those are either returned to the library because I borrowed them in the first place, or are delivered to the library because I am bewildered they made it across my threshold at all.)
The moral of this story: Lagerkvist is a keeper. There’s a reason he’s an award winning author. There’s a reason his book appears on the 1001 Books to Read Before You Die list. He’s pretty incredible.
“This was wickedness, and it was fatal.”
“It was everywhere. Arsenic. Inheritance powder, the old people called it.”
Title: A Reliable Wife
Author: Robert Goolrick
Publisher: Algonquin Paperbacks
Genre: Fiction
Length: 291 pages
Like so many others, A Reliable Wife was a freebie I acquired somehow. A number one New York Times Bestseller that seemed to be everywhere at once, yet I didn’t know anyone who had actually read it.
When I was cleaning out my personal library to take donations to the public one, my hand was on it. It almost ended up in the bag. Something stopped me, I’m not sure what. Most likely a hoarder’s impulse. The copy was too pristine. The train on the cover too gloriously mysterious. Historical fiction written by a man, not a woman, which for some reason tends to make all the difference.
Maybe it was because of my post about my selection practices and my thoughts as to what titles concerning prostitution would be at my daughter’s fingertips. The book is highly inappropriate, but it gives a thorough view of what turns people to bad decisions. What makes someone become a person with poisonous intentions and morals.
How easily anyone could slip into this awfulness.
“Yet it was a dream he had held in his heart for so long that nothing could replace it, nothing made up for his loss and his desire for restitution.”
Who hasn’t suffered from the same sort of persistence chasing an idea that maybe should have been abandoned?
“This was wickedness, and it was fatal,” is the theme that runs through Goolrick’s riveting novel. Maybe it’s the Baptist fire and brimstone in my veins that makes a story like this appeal to me, because I don’t mind wickedness when it is properly portrayed as something evil. It’s when wickedness is disguised as something desirable that I have a problem with it in novels.
Goolrick’s novel is amazing. I couldn’t put it down and I was so glad I chose to read it instead of placing it my library donation bag this week. My husband, not much of a reader, now wants to know the story and read the book as well – suckered by the blurb on the back jacket as I was nose deep in the pages. I’ve already encouraged a friend to purchase it as well. She quickly found a copy in clearance at Half Price Books, well worth a spare dollar.
The Beginner’s Goodbye
Title: The Beginner’s Goodbye
Author: Anne Tyler
Publisher: Knopf
Genre: Fiction
Length: 198 pages
I have two Anne Tyler books on my bookshelf. I acquired them somehow, possibly gifts or hand-me-downs from someone else. I know I didn’t buy them, because I’ve never felt moved to read them. Perhaps they were freebies I toted home thinking, “I might need these if I start dying from cancer.” It’s morbid, but it is a frequent thought where free books are concerned. I worry that I will be trapped in the house or the hospital without reading material. That must be a phobia of some kind or another, I’m sure of it.
The two books I have are Back When We Were Grown Ups and Digging to America. They sit perched there right after Mark Twain and before John Updike. I almost put them in the garage sale we had this week, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Something about them makes me want to hold on to them even as I try to decide what to keep and what not to keep during our ‘we might be moving, but aren’t sure’ months.
This last week at the library, however, I caught a glimpse The Beginner’s Goodbye in the stacks. On the cover is a coffee cup and a dainty tea cup, immediately invoking the idea that two very different companions will be separated and someone will find themselves with a hole in their heart.
There are many covers out for this book, published in 2012, by a Pulitzer prize winner, everyone wants to add their own touch and be associated with it. But this one with the cups, that’s what did it for me – that is what captures the essence of the book in my mind. That’s what conveyed that essence to me from the shelf and prepared me for a mood that I wanted. The other covers are beautiful, but I probably would have gone on forever ignoring them.
Anne Tyler wrote something in The Beginner’s Goodbye that I wish I had written. I suppose I say that fairly frequently, but it is the highest compliment I know how to give. There is much in the reading world I enjoy with all my heart but wouldn’t necessarily long to have my name attached to it. This, is not one of those things, this is lovely and beautiful and gives you a taste of sweet humanity that even the greatest of storytellers seem to miss sometimes.
Appropriately titled and timed for my life, I’m learning to say goodbye to books that I anticipated keeping until my kid was old enough to read and discard them. I might be saying goodbye here soon to my extensive library. Granted, I could get rid of half my books and still have more books than anyone else I know, but sorting through them is hard for me. By checking out this book from the library, Anne Tyler has made it clear that I at least need to read her other two before I give them up – and that when I give them up they should be wrapped and lovingly gifted, not tossed in a garage sale.
Wrapping up Clare, Clary, and Clockworks
Titles: City of Heavenly Fire
Author: Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fantasy/ Teen
*SPOILERS*
So I was finally able to wrap up two series, The Mortal Instruments and the prequel series Infernal Devices. It was kind of refreshing to finish something and know that I know as much of the story that is available to know at the moment.
City of Heavenly Fire was exactly what I expected. Great closing to it all, not a lot of surprises. The only thing that did surprise me were the number of new characters that were introduced, seemingly to kick start another set of books. But Clary and Jace are finally basking in their glorious together-ness, the readers got a wedding (Clary’s mother and Luke of course), and the teen couple finally sealed the deal which was expected, gratifying for the masses, but also disappointing for me – the girl who waited.
Clockwork Princess was not nearly as satisfying. It went as expected (the ending sort of spoiled by having already read City of Heavenly Fire), but also disappointed me in the sense that sometimes a girl should actually have to do a little more choosing. No one gets everything they ever wanted that thoroughly, and Tessa being allowed to love both boys so completely thrusts you outside of the book’s reality and back into your own by the sheer fact that no one should be allowed such a fairy tale. Even in happily ever afters, a girl has to pick a prince. You didn’t see Clary marrying Jace and running into the ever after with Simon or vice versa. It was sweet and wonderful, but too sweet and too wonderful, and therefore fell flat to me.
I’m glad I read them the way I did though, I am. Even if things were a little anti-climactic, I understand stories and the fact that the characters simply have to live their lives and sometimes those lives are anti-climactic. I’m just also a little relieved that both series have ended.
I still adore Cassandra Clare, I still look forward to reading more of her writing in the future. But for now, I think I may have burned myself out. Or maybe Clare burned herself out. I’m not sure and it’s probably not fair for me to decide right now.
Anakalian Whims 