Be a Minute Stealer

Today I was a minute stealer. I heard that phrase used this fall at a school district training about teaching kids to love reading, and I thought, "Yes." That's me. When I'm reading a truly excellent book, I will read in whatever snatches of time I can find. I bring good books with me to doctor's waiting rooms, to kids' swimming lessons, anywhere I think I might get a few minutes in. If I don't bring it along, I'll find myself wishing I could be reading in any spare minutes I have. That's when I know I'm really enjoying my book. So today I found myself thinking about my current book between batches of cookies. I stayed near the kitchen, so I would hear the timer on the oven, and crept away to read during Christmas baking. Yes, it was that good.

The Boston Girl

Fiction by Anita  Diamant

Written in the style of a memoir, a grandma telling her granddaughter about her life, the voice in this book is so believable that I forgot she wasn't real. Addie Baum grows up Jewish in Boston in the 1920s. Her story encompasses the whole experience of the age, from war to war, early feminism to child labor, Prohibition to racism. Addie comes from the extreme poverty of immigration, and through curiosity and education and friendship with women who encourage her, she and her family lead full and healthy American lives.

Many of the elements of this story are reminiscent of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Angela's Ashes. What appeals to me even more in this book than those is the friendships of the women and the strong tones of feminism that underscore the events of the story. I suppose that's the benefit of being both fiction and set 100 years ago. A real Addie Baum may not have had up close experience with so many of the events of her time. But maybe she would. And that's another thing I love, the conversation between Addie and her granddaughter that is subtly embedded. My best stories come from my grandma, too.

 

A Sudden Light
Fiction by Garth Stein

Sadly, this book did not necessitate minute-stealing for me. I was super looking forward to reading it because I loved his The Art of Racing in the Rain . I gave it a good long try because of that previous book, but in the end I skimmed. I think there are a few reasons it didn't resonate with me. First, it was not what I expected. It seemed to have all the elements I love: family secrets, generational angst, cool old house, learning about the history of an area, in this case Seattle. But mostly, it's a ghost story. Racing in the Rain had some fantastical elements (dog narrator, check), but this one is a straight up ghost story. It just didn't do it for me. Also, it reminded me of the "The Fall of the House of Usher." I was reading that classic Poe story with my students at the time I read this book and it just kind of felt like I was at school. I read to escape (hence reading in the doctor's waiting room) so again, no thanks. Maybe with a different set of expectations or at a different time, I would have like this book, but not now.

Christmas is in four days. Baking is done. Wrapping and stocking stuffers are all I have left to do, and then after Christmas I still have a glorious week of vacation from school. I plan to be an hour stealer during these coming days.