So what this really boils down to is what books do I want everyone else to read?  That’s easy.  The problem is figuring out which ones a broad range of people might actually enjoy.  So, instead of around foaming at the mouth about how everyone should read everything Ray Bradbury has every written, I’ll try to make a list with wider appeal.

(Disclaimer: some of these actually are book club picks.)

1.  “Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen.  A likable protagonist, a creepy villain (I never saw the movie but I’m confident Cristoph Weitz was the perfect choice), and a detail-rich Depression-era circus setting.  I had my doubts since this book was one of those books that everyone and their mom (but mostly the moms) was reading, but I really enjoyed it.

2. “Memoirs of a Geisha” by Arthur Golden.  Fun fact: geishas aren’t prostitutes, although geishas-in-training funded their schooling by having their virginities auctioned off.  That’s one of many details about Japanese culture you’ll learn in this elegant book, set as WWII is about to break out.

3. “The Handmaid’s Tale” by Margaret Atwood.  For me, a book club would be a return to the small-group discussions from college days, which I sometimes really miss, especially when reading something heavy like “Handmaid’s Tale” (or “The Road,” ack) that I really just want to analyze.

4. “The Namesake” by Jhumpa Lahiri.  Lahiri writes beautifully and tells beautiful, poignant stories, as evidenced by the fact that her first-ever publication (“Interpreter of Maladies”) won a Pulitzer.  “Namesake” is, on the surface, the story of an Indian immigrant family and their son as they all adjust to their cultural differences, but even someone who’s lived in the same country their whole life can relate to the relationship intricacies that Lahiri creates: husbands and wives, parents and children, boyfriends and girlfriends, extended families, etc.  This is one of my favorite books from college and it introduced me to one of my all-time favorite authors.

5. “Watchmen” by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons.  This ain’t your ordinary book-club read, but it’s exploding with symbolism and imagery.  I’ve read it three times and every time I notice new things.

6. “The Mists of Avalon” by Marion Zimmer Bradley.  Again, not your ordinary book-club read.  “Mists of Avalon” is an enormous book that follows the Arthurian saga through the eyes of its female characters.  I have trouble with this book being called “feminist literature” because I don’t think its female characters are  very well developed (see essay here), but in general it’s beautifully written and presents an interesting take on the saga.  Good for fantasy nerds and history buffs alike.

7. “My Name Is Mary Sutter” by Robin Oliveira. A slightly lighter pick for the feminist-minded book club.  Mary Sutter is a midwife who aspires to be a surgeon during the American Civil War and encounters almost every possible loss and obstacle to get there.  Oliveira did incredibly thorough research and the descriptions of everything from upstate New York to the battlefield to a birth are vividly described (sometimes almost too vividly).  It would bring up great discussions of family loyalty, love and relationships, women in medicine, and the politics and human cost of the Civil War.

8. “The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society” by Annie Barrows and Mary Ann Shaffer.  Fun fact: I didn’t realize the title had the word “pie” in it until I was about ten pages into the book and someone mentioned potato peel pie.  It simply had not registered.  Mind blown.  Anyway, I’m nearly finish with this book and I’ve loved every page.  It’s told as a collection of letters between the characters, which means plot details drop at unexpected times, and the story it tells is fantastically unique.  It unveils a dark chapter in a realistic, non-preachy way, something “Sarah’s Key” attempted and failed at.

9. “To Kill A Mockingbird” by Harper Lee.  I don’t think you’re ever too old for this book, especially once you reach the age when you can appreciate Gregory Peck in the movie version (rowr).  As books that address racism go, this one is an easy but effective read, and it’s still rife with possible interpretations.

10. Because I want a book club in which I can finally read it…“The Help” by Kathryn Stockett.  I still haven’t read this, and I’m sure I’m going to want to wade into the racial issues it brings up, especially because it’s told via a white protagonist.

What books did you read in a book club that stood out for you?  What would you want to discuss?

Amazon.com carries on destroying retail as we know it by manipulating customer expectations and killing print publishing in as slow and painful a fashion as they can.  I definitely don’t agree with Lacy that Amazon should be exploiting publishing’s weaknesses the way it is, but it would certainly be nice if publishers, print or electronic, could get over celebrity memoirs and start paying more attention to new writers.

In other dying-literary-traditions news, Poe fans have officially called an end to the tradition of the “Poe Toaster” after the mysterious man failed to appear for the third year in a row.

No Proof Paula Deen’s High-Fat Southern Cooking Caused Her Diabetes: “After eight years [of a controlled $415 million study], there was no statistically significant difference in the rate at which type 2 diabetes occurred among women in the two groups.“

A Feminist Takes On Fashion: “If feminists ignore fashion, we are ceding our power to influence it.”

Model Alessandra Ambrosio walked the catwalk while 5 months pregnant.  This is either really neat or really contrived, like when Vogue does their “plus-sized only” issues and expects the world to be proud of them for being so open-minded.  Yes, the lady is pregnant, and I appreciate the fashion industry not refusing to let her work, but…she still pretty much looks like a model.

To be honest, I’m not coveting much at the moment.  I’m not a fan of the loose, asymmetrical silhouettes and bold primary colors that are in right now.  I’m more into feminine, classic colors and styles, which don’t seem to be very prominent.  And the colors, oh boy – it’s either neutral (and sad, dead-khaki neutral at that, not fresh neutral) or neon-mustard or neon-coral.  Really not my thing.

I’m kinda liking the lacy layerable sweaters I’m seeing here and there, although I’m still iffy on the boxy silhouettes.

Apparently gigantic bold prints are in, which isn’t my thing at all, but I’m seeing some more delicate, approachable prints available.

2. How do you incorporate new trends into your wardrobe?
I start very small and very late.  I got skinny jeans only when I had to admit they weren’t going away, which was about two years after they arrived on the scene.  The best example of an incorporated trend I can think of is my waist cincher belt.  It’s black and not too dominatrix-y, and I was able to start with some pretty tame looks and then move into new belts and new ways to style them.

3. What trend are you seeing and not loving?
I was at Urban Outfitters the other day and it was just confusing.  Everything was oversize sweaters and cropped tank tops and t-shirts with long tails and colors straight off “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.”  My sister tried to explain how this new style of layering works, but it just seems to me that it would look disheveled all together, and I’ve always been a fan of more classic, tidy silhouettes.  I wish the “native” “tribal” stuff would go away, too.

4. Do you feel the pressure to constantly update your closet with the latest trends?
Not really.  I don’t want to be wearing something blatantly out-of-style, but I don’t like buying pieces until I’m sure I can get my money’s worth out of them.  I usually look for really trendy pieces in small doses, like new jewelry or a belt, and somewhere fairly inexpensive.

5. Where do you find inspiration that takes the trend and makes it accessible to you and your personal taste?
I try to look at catalogues or at the catalogue sections of websites that show you the looks they’ve put together with their newest pieces.  A catalogue is obviously not the most reliable source of inspiration because they throw all their pieces together and sometimes don’t even use real people as models, but it at least gives me a vague idea of how something will look on a person instead of a hanger.  And of course I investigate other fashion bloggers, who usually dress much more bravely than I do and give me ideas for mixing pieces I wouldn’t have thought to mix.

See the other entries at ModlyChic!

Colored tights and colored shoes, for those days when you want to wear a skirt but don’t want to be taken too seriously.

I don’t think I’ve ever dared wear a color combination like this, partly because I own one pair of shoes that aren’t black or brown, and you’re looking at ‘em.  That’s why I went so boring safe on the top half – if I tried to add another color, my inner introvert would have had a breakdown.

Maybe it needed another color, though, even if it was just something small like a scarf.  The top half sure was boring, and I spend enough time at my desk that I’m not sure many people even noticed the insanity that was my lower half.  What do you think?  Add more color next time?

1. “Black Boy” by Richard Wright. (Content) I can’t remember which teacher thought it would be a good idea to cover this book in high school, but it scarred me for life pretty effectively.  The kid strangles a kitten within the first few chapters.  It was only marginally easier to read when we studied it again in college, after we’d had time as human beings to absorb more information about ongoing racial issues.  I don’t think this is an easy book to read at any age, but it’s an important one.  When taught by the right teacher at the right time, it can be truly eye-opening and provoke further investigation.

2. “As I Lay Dying” by William Faulkner.  (Content, Style) I had to drag myself through this one, but by God, I finished it.  I will probably never read Faulkner again.

3. “The Sun Also Rises” by Ernest Hemingway. (Style) Having been turned off of Hemingway early by a high school reading of “Old Man And The Sea,” I groaned at the idea of having to read more in college.  I did not hate this book, though, and I wasn’t even very bored by it.  It’s on my “go back and read more thoughtfully” list so I can try to get more out of it.

4. “Midnight’s Children” by Salman Rushdie. (Style) I saw a theory somewhere that no one has actually read “Midnight’s Children,” and I’m willing to believe it.  The blurb was so promising: all the children born at midnight on the day of India’s independence have superpowers.  I think I made it one hundred pages and there was no sign of any superchildren.  Instead, there were many many boring pages of a man and another man on a boat and the woman the first man wants to marry.  I couldn’t finish it.  At first I felt like a failure of an English major, but when I discovered the above theory, I felt better.

5. “Perdido Street Station” by China Mieville. (Style) Reading this book was a little like being mugged by HP Lovecraft, Stephen King, and Guillermo del Toro, then waking up several months later to discover what they’ve stolen from you is your sanity.  “Perdido Street Station” is enormous, dense, and inventive to the point of hallucinogenic.  It features ordinary people, bug-people, cactus-people, eagle-people, frog-people, and genetically-altered people who all discuss politics, art, ethics, genetics and biology, philosophy, and probably several other issues and subjects that my brain just doesn’t have room to store.  It was really cool – except it was really long and it had a really unfulfilling ending.  I’m willing to try more Mieville, but only after a stiff drink.

6. Sandman by Neil Gaiman. (Style) I’m working my way slowly (very slowly) through this series, and each book is a challenge.  The art is trippy and the story only occasionally follows a main story arc.  Sometimes the main character doesn’t even show up.  The stories, though, are uniquely wonderful.

7. “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy. (Content, Style) This might be sort of a cop-out because McCarthy’s books exist out of everyone’s comfort zones.  I can’t think of many people who would be comfortable reading long, grim descriptions of an ashy post-apocalyptic wasteland where the only survivors are a man, his young son, and hordes of cannibalistic bandits.  Still, it was somehow beautiful, if you’re up for feeling terrible for a couple weeks.

8. “The Magicians” by Lev Grossman. (Content) For a book about magic and escapism, it sure makes you hate life a little.  I can’t remember the last time a book made me question so deeply who I am, why I’m here, and what I’m doing with my tiny scrap of useless existance.  (See?  Life-hating.)  Quentin, a magician, suffers a tragic character arc of Shakespearian proportions and emerges jaded, self-centered, and kind of an asshole.  What actually made his character arc tragic is even harder to read.  However, I actually enjoyed the sequel – like, really found pleasure in reading it, rather than just that masochistic joy of fighting through it.  Quentin finally learns to have feelings, namely remorse, and while he’s still pretty self-centered and mopey, he goes through some real soul-searching and finally figures out who he wants to be, which has been the running theme through both books.

9. “Intimacy” by Hanif Kureishi. (Content) This is one of the two books I read in college that I can remember absolutely hating.  Loathing.  Detesting with every fiber of my being.  It took a great deal of self-control to not start shrieking “WHY ARE WE EVEN READING THIS” during class.  Because it was terrible.  I hate this book the way I hate the movie “Crash:” because it concocts a contrived, unrealistic story of people who do not act like real people, in order to tell us how terrible people are, and then offers no solutions for how to not be terrible.  “Intimacy” did not have cutting commentary on loneliness or love or modern relationships. No, it was not a blazing, raw portrait of the collapse of a modern family.  And no, it is not a scathing critique of the modern male, because if I was a male I would be straight-up insulted by the author’s assumption the all men hate domesticity and think being married is like being imprisoned.  This book is just a couple hundred pages of the narrator (a semi-autobiographical extension of the author) acting like a four-year-old because he can’t have sex with more than one woman at a time anymore.

10. “Mumbo Jumbo” by Ishmael Reed. (Content, Style) This is the other book I hated.  Hidden somewhere amid the graphs of WWII bomb tonnage and other unrelated illustrations was probably an interesting and relevant story about the Harlem Renaissance.  There was also something about a conspiracy by a secret society to keep folks from dancing.  Unfortunately, the secret society and the irrelevant graphs and the felony-grade neglect of punctuation made it nearly impossible to learn anything from this book.

Read the other, less angry entries here!

Watch this year’s Sundance Film Festival short films online! Vote for your favorite and help a filmmaker win $5,000.

Love & Olive Oil has a cookbook full of cookie dough recipes coming out!  The best part is that they’re raw-egg-free, so germophobes like me can munch happily.

Remember Crush from “American Gladiator?”  In real life she’s Gina Carano, MMA fighter, and when Steven Soderbergh saw her fight, he said “She needs a movie” and came up with Haywire. It was actually really enjoyable – not the best script, but the fight scenes were stylish and it was nice to finally have a believable action heroine, rather than a twiggy Zoe Saldana or Angelina Jolie.

A Timelord man with two hearts survives a heart attack.

Hello Monkeyface has revealed her face (!) and her new blog!

Sarah’s Guide To Dressing Like A Classy Broad While Traveling, which will come in handy when we go on our honeymoon at the end of the month (!) and when I go to Hawaii this summer (!!)

I thought the 3D Star Wars re-releases were still a couple years away. I’m only moderately excited that the first movie is hitting theaters on February 10th (!). Only a little. Couldn’t care less, actually. Not particularly interested that all six (!!) of some of my favorite movies ever are going to be back in theaters (!!!). In 3D. Starting in less than three weeks.  (!!!!!!!!)

I realized I never posted the official wedding photos, so this is probably a good time to share those.  Huge thanks go to Alicia Joy and Heather for these! (In the unlikely event that anyone wants to pin/tumblr/post these for wedding inspiration, PLEASE link to the photographer, NOT ME. This is part of our contract! Thank yew.)

1) check Facebook

2) make tea

3) read short stories or poems…for research…

4) check Facebook

5) check Twitter

6) read Kate Beaton comics

7) light a candle

8) get name ideas from Wikipedia

9) read eighteen other Wikipedia articles

10) catch up on blogs

11) get a blanket because I’m cold

12) check Facebook

I think I like it better without the cardigan:

“Isn’t he dead?” someone asked.

“No!  He’s like, ninety, but he’s not dead.  I would know.”

“He’s kind of crazy, though.”

I would have argued, but the professor was nodding sagely, as professors are wont to do.  They told me about his “Ray Bradbury Theater,” which admittedly sounded a bit crazy.

“But ‘Fahrenheit 451,’” I protested to unimpressed ears.  “‘Illustrated Man.’ ‘Martian Chronicles.’  Some Twilight Zone episodes!  The guy practically invented science fiction as we know it.”

It turned out the problem wasn’t entirely with Bradbury – it was with science fiction itself.  They (like many) didn’t consider it literary enough.  Even the genre itself occasionally hides under other names, like “speculative fiction,” in attempt to disassociate from the pulp stigmas of “sci-fi”.  As a result, and as in many genres, some readers overlook it entirely, and they miss out on some incredible works that have shaped not just the genre, but other books and pop culture as a whole.

So for today’s Top Ten Tuesday, here are my recommendations to people who think they’re too literary to try science fiction.  A huge flaw in this list is that I haven’t read many of the genre’s greatest - primarily Isaac Asimov, Ursula K. LeGuin, Neal Stephenson, or Philip K. Dick.  I can’t really endorse them, having never read them…but I’ll endorse them anyway, especially Asimov and Dick, since many popular sci-fi movies are based on their stories (“I, Robot,” “Minority Report,” and “Blade Runner,” to name a couple).

1. “The Illustrated Man” by Ray Bradbury.  If I was trying to win someone over to Bradbury, this is the book I’d force on them.  A mysterious tattooed man takes shelter with the narrator, and his cursed tattooes come to life and tell stories of space travel, nuclear apocalypse, Martians, and robots, complete with themes of discrimination, religion, censorship, human purpose and destiny, and family.

2. “The Handmaid’s Tale” by Margaret Atwood. Oh, dystopias. What is it about them that makes us actually enjoy reading them?  Is it because we’re safe in our comfortable non-dystopian world?  “Handmaid’s Tale” will destroy your comfort within a couple pages, but the beauty of speculative fiction is that it won’t necessarily happen…right?  Right?

3. “Perdido Street Station” by China Mieville.  You want literary science fiction?  Give “Perdido Street Station” a try and let me know when your pulverized brain makes it to the last of its 623 pages.  The city of New Crobuzon is neither a utopia nor a dystopia – it’s a city, a grungy, Dickens-in-Marrakesh city full of artists and criminals and politicians and cactus-people.  It touches on just about every theme it’s possible for a book to touch on, and it does so with refreshingly little exposition – what?  There’s cactus people?  No explanation given.  Deal with it.  Your disbelief has been suspended and you didn’t even realize it.

4. “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy.  The world has been ravaged by an unspecified disaster, and an unnamed man and his son struggle through a dead, gray, brutal wilderness towards the coast, for no other reason besides needing a destination and the tiny glimmer of hope it provides.  It’s exhausting and sometimes painful to read, but the characters in ”The Road” never lose faith, and they don’t let us, either, in spite of everything.

5. “The War of the Worlds” by H.G. Wells.  Giant Martian tripods annihilate nineteenth-century England and all its Victorian sensibilities.  There’s no Will Smith with big guns or Doctor Who with a sonic screwdriver to help save the day – it’s just one ordinary dude, trying to stay alive and find his wife in a world gone utterly to hell.  I yearn for a steampunk-ian period film adaptation, although I did enjoy the surprisingly faithful Tom Cruise version – the death rays, an attack at a ferry crossing, and crazies who want to fight back are all from the book.

6. The Mars Trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson.  Okay, I never managed to finish these books either, but that’s because I tried to read them when was twelve or thirteen and “Red Mars” was just too boring.  Maybe I’ll put them on my 2013 reading list…

7. “Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley.  I found this easier to read than “1984″ (another one I never finished – I suck!).  I think what drew me to it was its more morbidly compelling “positive” dystopia, where the people don’t even know they’re repressed, as opposed to a “negative” dystopia where people are aware of their forceful subjugation.  People in the world of “Brave New World” are genetically engineered and sorted into castes, then further controlled via drugs and orgies.  This was essentially the first dystopian novel and it addresses many of the concerns of the 1920s when Huxley was writing it, like increasing consumerism, loss of individuality in an industrialized world, and the international political uncertainty following WWI.

8. “Slaughterhouse Five” by Kurt Vonnegut.  An American POW is abducted by aliens later in life and spends the rest of the book time-traveling and/or going crazy.  If you’re literary-minded, you’ve probably read this anyway.

9. “Dune” by Frank Herbert.  Come on, it’s “Dune.”  It’s like the Star Wars of science fiction literature.  It’s a coming-of-age tale, a religious allegory, and a courtly intrigue all in one huge, imaginative package.

10. “Never Let Me Go” by Kazuo Ishiguro. At first glace, you won’t even know this is science fiction.  Then the mysterious dystopia beautifully unfolds itself, Atwood-style, and you realize this near future has a horrible, tragic secret.