The Stretching of Our Days (And Dime)

October 18, 2019 at 1:47 am (Reviews) (, , , , , , , , , , )

I don’t remember exactly when it was I discovered Scribd, or how for that matter. I know I was trying to figure out Audible, my kid eats audiobooks for breakfast and we have a tendency to need more immediate access than we currently have with our library. Having the *time* to go to the library frequently enough is truly the issue… we just don’t have time. I say that un-ironically, as we have lounged about the house today for nearly eight hours, listening to music and audiobooks in between reading paperback books as well.

But we need those eight hours. We need the time to lounge and read the books. Yes, it’s a luxury many don’t have, but it’s a priority for we homeschoolers (kiddo) and introverts (me). There was co-op yesterday (The Atrium) and swim and music theory class this morning, a birthday party tomorrow. Eight hours to recharge and prepare–in the grand scheme of things–isn’t nearly enough.

Still, here we are, me wrapping up a book and mentally preparing a review, typing a post; kiddo, in her pajamas, playing play dough, listening to Wings of Fire Book Two on Scribd.

For years I lamented, “We have Netflix for television, why can’t we have a Netflix for books?” Lo and Behold! Scribd. It’s Netflix, for books, basically. And I’m smitten. We primarily use the audio function, as we have plenty of paper books lying about and don’t like to read on screens if we can help it. But audio… that allows us to close our eyes, do crochet, or build with legos or play dough. It’s also less expensive than Netflix, and when you share with your friends, you get free months.

Check out Scribd – the membership for readers! Use my link to sign up and you’ll get 60 days free: https://www.scribd.com/ga/7adrgu

Since finding Scribd, we’ve discovered all sorts of books we didn’t know we wanted, and were able to listen to books in our craft and downtime that we would have otherwise been too tired to get to, books the library doesn’t even have available. I was pleasantly surprised to discover my own published works available on Scribd! That excited me to no end.

So far I’ve listened to a vast range of John Piper, C. S. Lewis, Bernard Cornwell, Ann Hood… kiddo has indulged in Karen Cushman, Neil Gaiman, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Beverly Cleary, and the 39 Clues series. Titles like Becoming by Michelle Obama and Educated by Tara Westover were available almost immediately. To my great delight, I was able to listen to The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks when the bookstore had completely run out of copies due to school’s required reading lists and I had missplaced my own copy. It’s been a wonderful year (or more) with Scribd in our lives and we look forward to more options as more people discover the app and more publishers add their inventory to the selection.

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The Ocean at the End of the Lane

October 16, 2015 at 6:10 pm (Guest Blogger, Reviews) (, , , , , )

Title: The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Author: Neil Gaiman

Review by Guest Blogger Elis10419572_853266564768515_9044367270498300191_nabeth K. Simmons

There’s no right way to love a book. For me, there are books I am in love with because of their story and there are books I am in love with because of the figurative and literal places in my life I ended up reading them. The Ocean At The End Of The Lane is brain-fluff wrapped up in too many truths about growing up. Because of that paradox, and the fact that I’m currently ignoring that I am technically an adult, I fell in love with it immediately.

The week I found it was one of the longest weeks of my new adult life. I worked 30 hours in closing shifts at work in six consecutive nights on top of going to school four days in a row and all the homework that comes with it. I was in no way looking for something to occupy my time. There was none to spare.

In between class and work, I walked into Book People in Austin just a couple blocks down from my campus. This two-story bookstore has become my new happy place in between responsibilities since it is large enough to wander and contains hundreds of books to leaf through. Usually I pick a book at random, read a couple chapters and put it back on the shelf when I leave. I haven’t wasted my time and a book gets to feel loved.

On my second day of work, I wanted something easy. I didn’t want to wander, I just wanted to hide. In this particular bookstore, Neil Gaiman’s works have their own shelf and almost every book, its own personal review by the booksellers. Without pausing to even read the synopsis of The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, I grabbed it and rushed to hide in the chair resting up against the classics section with a cup of coffee.

And I disappeared.

Gaiman has this magical simplicity to his writing where a 19-year-old college student can cancel out the constant foot traffic of a busy bookstore and be emotionally invested in the life of a 7-year-old boy who grew up suddenly and quickly after he met the strange Lettie Hempstock at the end of the lane with her ocean. The story is told in a flashback of a middle-aged man who you can tell never quite felt young. Innocent maybe, but he didn’t know that until he no longer was.

When I came back to reality an hour later, I decided this book was what I needed that week. I couldn’t have even told you why, but there wasn’t any way I could’ve left without it.

I didn’t pick it up again for several days. Work and school got the better of me and I might have gone insane a few times over the course of the weekend. Sunday night was night 6 of 6 of closing and after serving angry people their coffee, I had an insane craving for diner food. I wanted coffee and waffles and the kind of food coma that comes shortly after. And I wanted a place to read my magically simple book and not worry about having to leave.

So Magnolia’s it was. A 24 hour diner in the middle of Austin with omelets and giant pancakes sounded wonderful at 9 pm on a Sunday. Little did I know that the last day of the Austin City Limits music festival was just letting out.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I looked behind me and saw the multitudes waiting to cross the street and wait for hours for the same pancakes and omelets. My mission then changed from finding diner food to racing the masses for a table. They had won Magnolia’s, but there was the 24 Diner off of 6th Street that they wouldn’t have time to walk to. I raced to the heart of downtown Austin and beat the majority of the masses.

After saying it was just me, the hostess smiled at me and said there were several spots open on the bar if I wanted to eat immediately. I had beaten the swarm people. I had my spot. And I was not moving. Busy people behind the bar gave me menus and I told the waitress I just wanted a cup of black coffee and a waffle. 10 minutes later, I had a giant waffle in front of my face and the ACL crowd had begun to take over, yelling drink orders over my shoulder and squeezing in the 6 inches of air available at the bar. I did not care. I had my spot. I was not moving.

I opened my book and disappeared again. I met the villainous Ursula Monkton and her twisted desires and methods of making everyone happy. She was a Dolores Umbridge-like character that you hated simply because there are too many controlling, manipulative, and oppressive people like her in real life. I got to know the Hempstocks better and found out they were the family everyone wishes they had as friends growing up. The kind that just took care of things and knew enough to make you think they knew everything.

I was vaguely aware people being replaced with more people on my left and on my right, but I couldn’t tell you how many. The bartenders ignored me entirely, leaving my sticky plate as a marker that I deserved to sit there, only interrupting me to ask if I wanted more coffee. I looked up and it was 11:15. Neil Gaiman had done the impossible and canceled out a swarm of ACL attenders.

The next day, I had no brain function. I went to class and stumbled through the day just waiting for when I could disappear again. I made it to Mozart’s on Lake Austin and fought my way through the line of fellow Austinites to buy a bottomless cup of coffee and made my plan to disappear.

I discovered that oceans can be put in buckets, if you ask nicely enough, and that there are some people whose hearts just need more time to grow back. Different people remember events in different ways and some things are best forgotten.

And then it ended.

I felt like I had gotten pulled out of a dream by having a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. I had not planned on it ending and now that it had I was a little lost. The only thing I could think to do was write a thank you note to Neil Gaiman and share it with everyone. Whether he will ever see it is anyone’s guess, but anyone who can make a week like mine slightly less defeating deserves some recognition.

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Blog Recommendation

January 19, 2012 at 10:33 pm (Reviews) (, , , , , , , )

I don’t have a review of my own prepared for today’s blog post.  But! Never fear!  I will not leave my followers and subscribers hanging! I have a blog post for you to read.

http://bookinginheels.blogspot.com/2012/01/review-good-omens-by-terry-pratchett.html

I send you to this review, because I, too, would like to “take a picture of myself licking the book and call it a review.” It is that fabulous.

Kudos Hanna of BookingInHeels and congrats on winning the cafepress pillow for the dreaming of books blog hop.

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