And then, and then…

Take this scenario into consideration: you want to see a movie, okay? It doesn’t matter which movie but, for the sake of my example, let’s say you want to see the latest Tom Cruise blockbuster. So, to make sure you’re not wasting ten dollars of your hard-earned paycheck, you decide to Google a few reviews. But, here’s the catch. The review doesn’t actually say anything. The author simply lists the plot from beginning to end, without offering any insights or opinions. “And then Tom shoots that weird guy, jumps off the roof of a car before it blows up, kisses the heroine, and then stares menacingly at the villain, who’s wearing a really expensive-looking black suit. Then…”

Was the movie any good? Who can tell?

The next review, on the other hand, talks about the quality of production, the stupidity of the script and, perhaps, provides a manifesto on really cool explosions. The writer then incorporates a few examples to prove his or her argument. Whether or not we agree at this point is irrelevant.

More analysis

Yes, you can incorporate opinion. Actually, analysis is evidence-based opinion. Do not be afraid to introduce new and quirky ideas into your paper. Just be prepared to back them up with solid, well argued proof.

Think of yourself as a lawyer. Prove your case. People aren’t going to believe vigilante-style hysterics: “The defendant is guilty! Why? Well, because I said he is!” That’s just not going to fly, and thank God it doesn’t. Otherwise, our legal system would be up to its ears in random he said/she said chaos.

Break your argument into bite-sized, but impactful pieces. With each quote you introduce, explain why it’s important, what insight it contributes to your overall argument, and its significance within the terms of your paper.

Explain yourself

Don’t expect the professor to read your mind. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Analysis is important, yes, but it’s useless if you haven’t specified what you’re trying to accomplish. If you propose a thesis in which tree and plant imagery throughout Jane Eyre represents female sexuality in Victorian England, then say so! “Trees are interesting thematic devices” just doesn’t count. It’s simply too vague.

Questions to ask yourself

When you’re at a loss for words or ideas, the following is a list of questions that serve as prompts for generating analytical language:

What does [this quote] tell me about the character? (look at behaviour, dialogue, descriptions of places, etc.)

Why should my reader care what I have to say?

What are the major themes within the novel?

What kind of insights can I offer? Be unique. Don’t be afraid to be controversial.

How will [this quote] prove my argument? If it’s interesting, but irrelevant to the topic, pitch it!

What does this novel say about the writer, or the time and place in which it was written? (Think in terms of decades, political influences, social hierarchy, psychological influences, etc.)

I hope this helps! Feel free to add to my list. Do you have any tips and tricks to share?

As the professor handed out the syllabus, she smirked a little, and gazed up at us for a moment. “I know you’ve signed up for a Horror in Literature course but I should warn you that some of these texts are, in fact, quite scary.” She kept a straight face. “I wouldn’t recommend reading many of these books in the late hours of the evening, or when you are alone.” Again, I stared at her even gaze, trying to decipher whether or not she was telling a joke.

No, it appeared she was serious.

I studied the syllabus and wasn’t surprised by the choices. They were all very typical: Dracula, The House on Haunted Hill, The Tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, etc.

The professor continued: “I know this might sound funny to you, but I’m not joking. Some of these books are quite terrifying.”

Well, now she officially had my attention.

The students in the class room smiled and looked around at one another with a knowing glint in their eyes. Most of us were in our twenties or thirties, so this warning was somewhat amusing for most of us. It’s not like we were about to watch Saw, or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. We didn’t require such an elaborate pep talk.

The professor, who was likely in her fifties, remained on this subject a few moments longer: “While reading some of these books on my own time, I’ve often experienced some moments of absolute horror. I just wanted to tell you in advance, just in case.” Just in case of what? Were students going to drop the course because the content was too scary? That was very unlikely.

If you’ve ever been a student, you know that most of your reading gets done at 3 o’clock in the morning, so avoiding night time study sessions was virtually impossible. Many evenings were passed in the company of Bram Stoker and Shirley Jackson.

I was totally underwhelmed by most of the books, especially The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner, which was probably the most obscenely boring book I had read in ages. Dracula didn’t fare any better. Hours were passed rolling my eyes and grumbling with irritation. Don’t even get me started on Frankenstein. True Confessions, though, topped my list for most painful university reading experience.

However, when it came time to crack open The Monk by Matthew Lewis, I could not ignore the sheet of goose bumps that accompanied each reading session. The Monk is the story of a monk, a supposed “Man of God,” who makes a deal with the devil to allow him access to a woman he desires. The devil paves the way for the monk to attack and rape this young girl. Aside from this initial brutality, the true horror becomes clear when the devil arrives to collect his side of the bargain.

Can you imagine what that might entail?

Even though I took this course over five years ago, every time I’m asked about horror books, The Monk is the first title that comes to mind.

Give it a try. You’ve been warned.

Seriously.

Begin with the end in mind.

-Stephen Covey

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

-Mark Twain

If you don’t go after what you want, you’ll never have it. If you don’t ask, the answer is always no. If you don’t step forward, you’re always in the same place.

-Nora Roberts

[t]he Human Library started in Denmark in 2000, when an anti-violence group was asked to build a program to promote dialogue, reduce prejudices and encourage understanding for fans attending the large Roskilde music festival. It has been replicated around the world.

The scheduled line-up includes a stripper, a prostitute, a CBC videographer, a pediatric neurosurgeon, among others. Patrons of the library will have the opportunity to scan a catalogue card and “borrow” the human book for 20-minute conversations. For obvious reasons, this event is being marketed to adults, and organizers are quick to point out that these are not presentations. The idea is to talk, ask questions and ultimately come away with a different and fresh understanding of a subject. One man, who agreed to participate, will sit with a sign that reads “HIV-Positive” and likens the experience to a “Human Zoo.” In addition to the Main, Greenboro, Centrepointe, and Stittsville branches, the Canadian War Museum will hold its own event featuring a war artist, veteran, and other military-related persons of interest.

This is the first time I’ve learned of an event like this being held in Ottawa, which is a distinctly diplomatic city, so I was shocked to learn that we had the capacity to push social and political boundaries. According to Humphreys’ informative article, over 900, 000 people submitted their stories in order to be a part of the Human Library project. From that numer, only 60 were selected to participate.

From the sounds of these statistics, people want to share their stories with others. Look at bloggers, for example; we purposely share snipets of our lives with readers, sometimes offering personal and often private thoughts to the strangers who read our posts. I think the key word here is environment. The Ottawa Public Library is creating an atmosphere of learning, curiosity and, hopefully, comfort for all those involved. Our blogs also keep this in mind; although we encourage our readers to share their ideas and opinions, we do so in an environment that excludes unhealthy, angry, and inappropriately meanspirited comments.

However, there is one major difference between blogging and being a human book: as bloggers, we have the safety of sharing and writing behind the privacy of a computer screen; in person, we would have to share our private experiences while looking into the eyes of strangers. There is also, no matter how hard the “reader” may try to be openminded, an element of judgement, especially if the “human book” has a profession that is not accepted by mainstream society.

Thankfully, a Reader Etiquette has been established by the organizers:

1. The Reader must be respectful in his or her questions and conversation with the Book.

2. The Reader accepts the fact that the Book can quit the conversation if he or she feels that the Reader treats him or her in an inappropriate or disrespectful manner.

3. The loan period is for 20 minutes. The loan can be extended up to 10 minutes if both Book and Reader agree.

4. The Reader must not record, videotape, take pictures or interview the Book.

5. The Reader is not allowed to ask the Book for personal contact information.

Would you ever consider being a human book?

I’ll never forget that day in Junior High when, during the remnant minutes of a math class gone berserk, I was approached by a random acquaintance who rarely spoke to me. He asked me what I was reading. I held up the book: some ridiculous R.L. Stine novel with blood and skeletons decorating the cover, I’m sure.

He frowned, confused. “What class are you reading that for?”

“I’m not reading it for class.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I’m reading it for fun, for me.”

Well, needless to say, an expression of complete and utter puzzlement eclipsed his face. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Why?” It was more of an exasperated statement than a question.

I blinked. The confusion suddenly jumped from him to me. “Because… I want to.” The thought of explaining my reasons seemed unnecessary. Why wouldn’t I enjoy reading? What a question!

“Don’t you get bored?”

“Um… no.” I stuck out my lips to illustrate my shrug.

Around us, students yelled and screamed, laughing hysterically at random jokes, the math teacher having abandoned all attempts at trying to quiet the mayhem. The incessant chatter was, to put it mildly, deafening. “Doesn’t the noise bother you?” He waved his hand in the air, raising his eyebrows, as if to point out the obvious.

I looked around. “Not really. I just kinda pretend it’s not there.”

And that was the end of that.

Genre: Non-fiction/cooking

Source: Personal Copy

Publisher’s Blurb:

With simple-to-prepare yet exotic and delicious recipes such as Moroccan Pumpkin Soup and Roasted Bison Tenderloin with Apple Butter Sauce, Tosca shows us that eating clean can be as delicious and stimulating to the palate as it is satisfying and beneficial. She teases your tastebuds and challenges your preconceptions, but she also understands that time is a precious commodity, so her recipes are easy to prepare. Get: Over 150 delicious recipes, each with a gorgeous, mouth-watering full-page photo by renowned food photographer Donna Griffith; The finest foods the world has to offer, with simple instructions for preparation; Inspiring lifestyle photographs of Tosca; Tips, tricks, advice and information for those new to the art of cooking.

First Impressions: I received this cookbook for Christmas two or three years ago. I’ve used and loved Tosca Reno’s The Eat Clean Diet Cookbook, which is full of fantastic recipes. However, there is one big difference between the two. Tosca Reno‘s second cookbook is more vegetarian-friendly. She has created many bean and legume focused meals, as well as vegetable based soups and homemade breads. The “Stacked Vegetable Lasagna” looks especially tasty.

Once you pick up a copy of this book, you’ll immediately be impressed by the photography. Each meal and side dish is expertly presented, its colours and glazes glistening in the lighting, and many of them have a country harvest vibe. The “Roasted Summer Vegetables with Couscous” looks delicious in a vintage roasting pan, the edges of red peppers, zucchini’s and onions lightly blackened.

Last Christmas, I used two recipes to bake Tosca’s clean version of “Irish Soda Bread.” It was an absolute cinch; all her recipe called for was whole wheat flour, baking soda, sea salt, powdered fruit sugar, dried currants, buttermilk, and olive oil. Although I had to knead the dough quite a bit, and add a little extra water, the loaf turned out wonderful.

The second recipe I successfully attempted was the “Delicious Date Scones.” The dough was the perfect consistency, which made it very easy to cut them into triangles and set them on a baking pan.

Final verdict: Although I can appreciate the vegetarian dishes, because beans and legumes are so cost effective, I would have appreciated more recipes that include different kinds of fish. Tuna, sole, and haddock can be a little bland without the right kinds of spices, and Tosca’s flair for flavour would have been helpful. This criticism aside, I still look forward to trying a batch of “Black-eyed Pea Soup” and Tosca’s “Homemade Polenta.” There is also an incredible looking “Easy Herbed Yogurt Bread” and “Rice Pudding” I’m eager to  try.

Other wonderful and healthy recipes can be found on the Eat Clean Magazine website.

The realization of defeat slammed into Marilyn like a brick wall, the physical pain of being powerless overwhelming her senses. There was absolutely nothing she could do except stare, dumbfounded, at the empty road around her. She closed her eyes and wiped the building sweat from her face and eyes, pulling at her skin with frustration.

Then, as if an angel were rising from the horizon with glowing white eyes, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance. Marilyn’s breath caught in her throat, ready to bow with reverence at the rumbling vehicle. With a rickety bounce, a high, eighteen wheel transport truck came gliding into view.

In seconds, she bounded into its path, racing down the yellow line. Hands in the air, waving like a maniac, Marilyn yelled for the driver to stop. The truck was coming from the direction Chloe should have returned; perhaps she was inside, returning safely after all! She was excited to see her friend’s familiar smirk and quirky expressions, to hear her witty and loud banter.

When only one man in his fifties, wearing nondescript jeans and t-shirt, exited the trucker’s cab alone, Marilyn’s excitement turned to intense fear. The man, who was unable to make eye contact, asked, “What’s the matter?”

She was too grateful for human contact to notice the blank expression in his eyes. “My friend went to get some gas and never came back! Do you have a working phone? Mine won’t work! And our car has been stolen! I can’t find my friend!”

“Whoa, slow down. Your friend is missing?”

“Yes! Did you see her while you were driving? She went in that direction.” She stretched her arm out, pointing at nothing in particular.

“What does she look like?”

“Blonde. She was jogging on the side of the road. She went to get gas.”

“You said that already. Now, calm down. I didn’t see a blonde jogging on the side of the road. Do you have any idea where she went?” His gaze wavered and Marilyn wondered if he might be drunk.

“The gas station three miles ahead.”

“I didn’t see no gas station. Three miles, you say?”

“Yes. Could you help me find my car?”

“I thought you said it was stolen.”

“I think it was but I’m not sure. Please? I have no idea where I am and my phone won’t work here.”

He chuckled long and hard. “Yup, cell phones are useless on this here road.”

Marilyn knew in her gut that something was off with this dude, but she ignored her instincts in favour of having company and access to a working vehicle. “How long would it take to drive to the end of Highway 49?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He pursed his lips. “Pretty long.”

“Could you drive me to the first truck stop we see? I’ll call the police from a pay phone.”

“You know… gas ain’t cheap.”

“I’ve got money.”

“Well then, I guess you can hop in.”

Resisting the urge to cry, she was painfully, intimately aware of where she should be right now: settling into her dorm at Phoenix State, calling her parents, calling her parents to say she’d arrived safely, and that they shouldn’t have worried so much in the first place. This road trip was one of many with Chloe. They were best friends for a reason. Both girls had known each other for nearly ten years.

“I’m sorry,” she started, “what’s your name?”

“Seth. Yours?”

“Marilyn.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “As in, Monroe?”

The question caught her off guard. His expression died on his lips when he slowly realized that she had no intention of answering such a ridiculous question. A tension began to build as the silence continued.

Snap! Marilyn nearly jumped out of her skin when Seth flicked a switch on the dashboard. The music was astonishingly loud, and it filled the cab with retro tunes from the 80s, blasting from every angle, vibrating with the grumble of the engine. He flashed an inappropriate grin.

When the massive truck started moving, despite the feeling of relief flooding her veins, Marilyn could not sit back and relax. Instead, she leaned forward, paying close attention to the road, any signs that appeared between patches of yellowed, dry shrubs. They travelled in silence for nearly fifteen minutes and the Honda Civic had yet to appear. Not only was the car gone, along with the valuable stuff inside, there was seemingly no end to the road itself. The math didn’t make sense. The map she had consulted earlier indicated that an intersection with Country Road 32 should be near. According to the view, it was nowhere to be seen.

“Seth, how familiar are you with this road? Do you drive here often?”

“Damn right. Every day.”

“So… when should we encounter the next exit or intersection?”

“Oh, that’s a long ways away…”

“How far? In miles.”

“Oh… many.” He hummed along with the radio as though nothing were wrong. When he caught a glimpse of her confused expression, he smiled again. “You’re not from these parts are you?”

“No! I told you, if I knew where I was going I wouldn’t need your help. Our car broke down and my friend went for gas but never came back!” She was starting to sweat from frustration.

“That wasn’t a very good idea. Do you know how long these roads are? They go on forever.”

“But when I checked the map, we should be close to Country Road 32.”

“Didn’t you know?” He asked, eyes suddenly large and wide. “The maps lie.”

Marilyn turned to Seth, impatient and tired. She rubbed her eyes, then her neck. She didn’t know how to respond, so she said the first thing that came to mind: “What the hell are you talking about?”

Seth looked out the windshield, then back to Marilyn. He seemed confused. “These roads…” He stopped.

“Yeah?”

“These roads are very long. The people who draw maps… they have no idea this highway really is.”

She felt her patience slipping away. “Okay, you know what? I’m not playing this game anymore. I’m tired and lost. I should’ve moved into my dorm by now. I was supposed to call my mother two hours ago. Just stop with the games. You’ve totally freaked me out now, but seriously, stop it. Where is Country Road 32? And please turn off the radio!”

The truck soon filled with blissful quiet. Set let out a long, shaky sigh. He asked, “How long ago did your friend leave?” His voice was normal now, without the antics from before.

“Over five hours ago.”

“Shit.”

His reaction gave Marilyn a severe jolt of fear. “What?”

“Look, I’m going to give you some important advice and I want you to take it, okay? Forget your friend. She’s lost. Period. Do you have any idea how many times in a day I flagged down? That’s all I do. I spend my hours driving up and down this highway picking up wanderers and dropping them off at the truck stop. I thought you were a wanderer… but now it’s obvious that you’re not.” He gripped the steering wheel as though it might fall out of the dashboard. “You’re new, right?”

“New at what?”

He stared at her, gravely serious. Marilyn couldn’t read his eyes. He might as well have been speaking Greek or Italian this entire time. Obviously, this was a colossal joke, albeit a very elaborate one. But, instead of yelling and throwing stuff, which Chloe might have been inclined to do, she started to cry. Here she was, trapped in the middle of Arizona with an insane trucker, driving aimlessly down an endless highway. All she could do was cry.

“How did you end up on this road?” Seth asked.

“I don’t know. We were driving to college and…”

“Did you stop anywhere for directions?”

“Yeah. After we crossed over from California to Arizona, our cell phone signal started to give out, so we stopped for help at a gas station.”

“Which gas station?”

“You expect me to remember that? They all look the same!”

“Try to think. What was it called? Where was it?”

Seth’s odd behaviour slowly melted away to reveal frantic, nervous gestures, and wide panicked eyes. His grey hair was shoulder length and greasy, his clothes dated and unkempt. For the first time, she actually started to trust him. “Uh, I guess over by the Wilson exit. Speedy Gas? Jiffy Gas? Something like that?”

His face went white. “Do you remember what the person looked like?”

Marilyn blinked. “Are you serious? Some dude with a moustache and a pet coyote.” Again, this information had an odd effect on Seth’s expression. He grew sombre and resolute.

“Holy shit. That’s it.”

“That’s what?” Marilyn’s face felt hot and sweaty. The elements of this nightmare, like the dread of death, were spinning out of control and away from earthly, human logic.

Seth gritted his teeth. “That’s it! Highway 49 has an exit!”

Stay tuned for part 5…

I prefer and enjoy reading real, tangible books, with real pages and real ink. E-readers are certainly handy; I can’t argue with that. But, I can’t help but feel a sense of loyalty to the books that have provided me with entertainment, education, and fun over my lifetime.

After reading an article, “A few bad ideas for promoting the library” by Roger Collier, who argues that, because this technology boom has rendered libraries irrelevant, I discovered that they have had to employ some creative marketing strategies to attract more people. For example:

Other countries have already implemented this strategy and their libraries are flourishing. In the United Kingdom, many libraries provide oil changes, financial planning and MRI scans. Sweden requires all its librarians to also be certified personal trainers. The central public library in Norway’s capital city, Oslo, offers deep-tissue massage and an international buffet with more than 200 dishes, ranging from thin-crust pizza to regular-crust pizza.

However, I was surprised and rather shocked to learn that our beloved libraries, where I used to go almost every weekend as a child, have turned into spammers with subject lines as offensive as pornography sites! Collier lists a few of his favourite examples:

1. Subject: Tracking No. for package CA1909909

There is a special package waiting for you – at the library! Our packages are full of adventure and mystery and wonder. Some people call them books, but we call them boredom busters. Why not drop by and pick one up today?

2. Subject: URGENT! Important message from Windows anti-virus team

Your computer may already be full of viruses but don’t let your mind become infected – with boredom! The best cure for a case of boredomitis is a good book. Fortunately, the library has thousands of good books. Pay us a visit and we’ll fill your literary prescription.

3. Subject: Hey stuD, Wanna 1 knight Stand?

Tired of lonely evenings in the bedroom? Why settle for a onenight stand when you can have a nightstand stacked with incredible literature? Spend your nights with Dickens and Nabokov and Tolstoy. Our shelves are stuffed with thousands of companions awaiting your gentle caress.

What on earth would possess them to do such a thing? I realize that desperate times call for desperate measures, but seriously? People won’t even bother clicking on these messages; they’d be deleted immediately. One library in Windsor, Ontario, has decided to do away with fines. Okay, now that’s a concrete idea that could potentially attract new readers. I don’t think we need to offer pizza and deep tissue massages, but there are other marketing options available than cheap (and tacky), ineffective spam emailing.

Do you have any marketing suggestions for struggling libraries? What would you suggest they do to liven up the library experience?

A few options:

1. Bring in more authors for readings/signings. Make libraries be a part of the book tour, instead of just bookstores.

2. Redesign the library itself. If the building is a work of art, more people may feel compelled to visit.

3. Hold book fairs, festivals, and book blogging conventions.

4. Chapters has Starbucks, right? Libraries could have an attached café with homebaked goodies and sandwiches for sale.

5. Organize book swapping parties, scavenger hunts, and other quirky events.