Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Reflection on Bandersnatch: Writing With and For

 Reflections on the Writing Process


I've been reading the book Bandersnatch, by Diana Pavlac Glyer, and reflecting on her insights. As she explains how influence and collaboration worked within the Inklings, the group of creative writers including C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, she makes sure to include their process and sometimes even their own words.

As I read Chapter 5, "Drat that Omnibus!", which focuses on the specific feedback the Inklings gave each other, a direct quote from Tolkien struck me. He stated, "If I had considered my own pleasure more than the stomachs of a possible audience, there would have been a great deal more Elvish in the book." (p. 105) As I reflected a few weeks ago on the audiobook One Beautiful Dream, by Jennifer Fulwiler, I realized the pursuit of writing for God needs a reason. This reason, it seems, cannot be simply "to entertain myself." It cannot be self-centered. Very well! I can try to write to bring joy or comfort or help to others. However, Tolkien's comment reveals that we can be selfish not just in our writing intention, but in the way we write.


Writing for Others


I had several "aha!" moments while reading Fulwiler's book. To summarize from my previous blog post "One Beautiful Dream and Dreams to Write One Beautiful Thing," these realizations are:

1) Have a purpose for writing: to lift burdens, to encourage, to comfort others.
2) It's alright to write just a little, but to fulfill its purpose, it must be shared - even if it's with just one person.
3) Good writing matters because beautiful writing can uplift the reader.

Tolkien's statement has helped clarify this last point in particular. I may need to put aside my own preferences in order to do what readers would probably enjoy more. I cannot be so attached to my own words and the way I've arranged them that I do the reader a disservice by refusing to alter them. I won't need to act on every suggested edit, but I should consider what effect the words might have on the reader. Perhaps the original draft seems to describe the scene in one way, but proofreading from a different set of eyes might reveal that the words suggest a completely different image from what I intend. 


Openness to Feedback


When I've worked on projects or presentations in the past, I've had a tendency to feel very defensive of my skills and protective of my work. I know that I'm sensitive to criticism, so I want to avoid situations where my work will be explored for flaws. With this new insight that I've gleaned from Tolkien, I hope to move forward with being open to - and even embracing - the editing process. It is not myself who is being judged worthy of reading - or not. The words either convey the meaning that I want them to, or they don't. If a friend offers a correction on word choice, it is a gift to me because it makes the work better and, hopefully, more meaningful to the reader. It may still hurt, but perhaps the knowledge that it is for the good of the work, and not its destruction, will help assuage my sensitivity.

So, here is the fourth "aha!" principle:

4) You are not your written work. Editing is meant to refine the work so it is a better gift to the reader (i.e., it can better uplift, encourage, and comfort).



Action Item


In conclusion, the editing process does not need to be terrifying. Going forward from this post, my new goal is to embrace an opportunity to have someone edit my work when the opportunity arises.

Saturday, June 14, 2025

Trimming Down a To-Read List

Reflecting on Crossing Out Titles - Without Having Read Them


A few months ago, I made a big road trip with a good chunk of my family. We were on the road over the span of two days, and the nieces and nephews had a constant rotation in and out of the seat next to me on the way. There were very few moments that I had to myself outside using the bathroom, but I managed to find enough quiet time here and there to tackle a Very Big Project.

A Very Big Project


Very Big Projects are usually endeavors that will take many hours of work to complete and often land on my summer to-do (or "want to accomplish") list. However, this one took just a few to complete - although it required lots and lots of whiteout. During this trip, I took my to-read list to task and pared it down.

What made this task a Very Big Project was the fact that it required me to research and decide what I was taking out. Much like a closet that is overflowing with clothes that one doesn't wear, the list had grown overfull and was increasingly hard to manage. There were too many items on the list, so I lost track of which books I really wanted to read, and which ones had ended up there just because I'd come across a title that sounded mildly interesting. A cleaning-out was long overdue.

Process


I went through the list and, title by title, looked up each work on the Internet. Did the premise still sound interesting? If so, it stayed. If the book didn't actually sound great, or had elements that I figured would be too trying for me, I could say goodbye to it. Cross it off! White it out! I removed a few duplicates and also crossed off any titles that I already owned. For example, I recently came across Reader Come Home by Maryanne Wolfe, which is a book I wanted to make sure I read this summer for its relevance to my work in a school. When I purchased the book (at a weekly library book sale in Nebraska), I crossed it off my list. 

I also took a look at how it was organized. The headings under which I organized the works are: Children's, Theology, Saints & Personal Witness, Academic & Nonfiction, Fiction, Christmas, Poetry, Picture Books, and a few sections at the end that aren't quite books - Movie Recommendations and Finding Book Recommendations. I decided that Academic & Nonfiction was too big a category - rather, the books I am most interested in reading first were lost in the section. I moved over 20 titles to a new section, entitled "Writing & Reading". This helps me by keeping high-interest titles (about reading about reading, and the creative life vis a vis writing) in a location that's easier for me to find.


The Result


I'm glad I went to the trouble of doing this. My to-read list is still pretty overwhelming - enough so that I'm not going to count how many titles are on it. However, it is less of a beast to flip through when I'm considering what I'd like to read next. There are more white lines thanks to whiting out the crossed-off titles, which is a huge aid visually and gives me a sense of accomplishment, whether I've earned it or not.

It was a relief to cross off a good number of titles that I realized I really didn't want to read. They may have been recommended on a trusted Facebook group or initially caught my attention, but taking the time to look into these books has definitely shed light on the fact that I don't want to make time for some books after all.

I also have tried books by several Newbery-Award-winning authors during the last year, and come to realize that the writing style of some of them just isn't for me. Since I didn't enjoy The Secret Confessions of Charlotte Doyle and Crispin by Avi, I knew that I could remove any of his other works from consideration. The same goes for Katherine Rundell and Kate DiCamillo, although I'll probably still try to read or listen to The Tale of Despereaux sometime soon since I told my nephew I'd try to read it. I'm not saying I've sworn off them forever, but I get to give myself some space from them for now.

Another effect of clearing the lists is that I was able to investigate where I might find some of these books when I do decide I want to read them. Is it a popular paperback that might be at the library? Is it an old classic that might be available for free through Audible's rotation sometime, or so old that hardcopy is my only likely source? Maybe it's public domain or close to being so. That last reality helped me decide to finally try Mother Mary Loyola's allegory for children, The King of the Golden City. I found it on Librivox because my research revealed it was in the public domain, and while it wasn't my favorite, I now know it and have since crossed it off my list.

Resolutions for the Future


I think clearing house in the to-read list would be a good thing to do on a yearly basis. I probably won't need to research every title every year, which could make this a faster project in the future. I think I would also benefit from making a rule for myself as I constantly work the system with Audible. If I find a title is available for free on Audible and I don't make the time to listen to it before my subscription runs out, I should remove it from the physical to-read list, or at least seriously consider if it still warrants a place on it. There are seven titles I discovered are on both my list and Audible's available content rotation at this time. I have just over two weeks before I have to cancel, and I have a feeling that I won't make it to some of those books - and that needs to be okay with me.

My husband and I also had a discussion while we were out of town this week. I told him that I tore through most of a young adult novel during the course of a day, but I hadn't really enjoyed it. Sure, it picked up towards the end, but for most of the book, I hadn't enjoyed the characters, hadn't been engrossed in the setting or the excitement of what was happening, and found it to be a middling example of its genre. We talked about how I'm way more okay with putting down books now than I used to be. I'm not scared to show up to book club and reveal that I've failed, yet again, to get past chapter one of the monthly pick because I knew it would have content that would not sit well with me. However, I told him that I think I need to be even more discerning. If a book is tolerable, but I'm not really enjoying it, is that a good enough reason for me to plow through it until the end? If not, what is the point at which I decide it's not worth continuing? Do I have to notice I'm not loving it, or check in with myself a third of the way into the book each time? And when do I decide I should keep reading, even if I don't necessarily enjoy it? This may require further reflection from me.

One last resolution regards the amount of time I spend reading, or, at the very least, the attitude I have towards it. I love reading and regard it as one of my favorite, most consistent, and most enduring pastimes. However, I also believe I'm too attached to it. I typically am able to fulfill my duties without reading interfering, but I sometimes work more slowly if I have an audiobook going. I may neglect activities I ought to do or lose time sleeping if I'm enjoying a book too much. There are handcrafts and projects I want to complete - sometimes for others - that I still haven't finished a year later because so much time goes towards reading. Finally, I feel I let the fact that I'm reading about God give me an inflated sense of really knowing and being in relation with Him. I think reading is sometimes a hindrance to me living the life I'm meant to live. I want to be fully engaged in what I'm doing, and complete projects for love of others without needing to have a story going. This might mean taking a longer break from Audible sometime or choosing to work with no headphones on. It might mean taking to prayer my desire to read or consciously choosing to close my book and put it away so I can connect more fully. Every love can become disordered, and I am slowly starting to realize what this can look like with reading.

My immediate action item is to make sure I put in a lot of work on my husband's t-shirt quilt this next week and to make it a priority over reading.

Ending on a Positive Note


I couldn't just leave off with "I need to read less!", so I'll conclude with saying I think that reflecting on the process of paring down the to-read list has helped clarify a few things for me. This writing exercise is a great example of how writing can help me organize my thoughts, reflect, and either supplement nascent thoughts or come up with new ideas about topics that are important to me. 

Wednesday, June 4, 2025

Reflections on One Beautiful Dream

One Beautiful Dream and Dreams to Write One Beautiful Thing


I just finished an audiobook recording of a work written by Jennifer Fulwiler, entitled One Beautiful Dream. While I don't have enough thoughts to make this a "deep dive" into the text, there is certainly enough to the book to provide fodder for blog post reflections.

The book itself is well-crafted, with great storytelling, structure, and balance between humor and the cares of daily life. However, these elements alone do not account for my interest in the book. Fulwiler says something near the end of the book that has had me reflecting ever since.

"I wanted to tell stories, to relieve people's burdens," she states in chapter 36, as she ponders how writing came to be such a core part of her life. This statement is at once the succinct explanation for why Jennifer writes, as well as the jumping-off point for a lifetime of creative endeavors. In one sentence, she sums up not just the importance of writing to her, but its necessity.

The Need to Write?


For all my bookish inclinations and pipe dreams of becoming a world-famous author, I have never been the sort of person who "needed" to write. No Anne Shirley am I, feeling like something will shrivel up inside of me and die if words do not flow from my fingers onto a Word document.  In college, when I went through a period of trying to be an English major, I realized that my creativity didn't flow into writing the way it seemed to for the other students. I excelled at the precise analysis of sentences tree diagrams and the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA), but struggled to understand how people wrote - for fun - in the midst of required reading and essays for class. Even now, as I listen to podcasts featuring authors of children's books and their writing process, or read about Tolkien "discovering" parts of his story as he wrote, I feel like I don't fit into any of the author molds that are offered - at least, not by authors of fiction.

And yet, the desire to write something remains. Every month, I delight to think that the 30th or 31st has rolled around, because it means it's time to take stock of my reading for the month. I weigh the positives and negatives of the books I've consumed, and record my thoughts, to reference later for reminders on what to recommend to people, or what to hand the kids I hope to someday have running around my house. There was even a time when I sat down and typed out a first draft of a novel. I haven't felt the need to go through and rework it after getting it out, but there's still something in me that desires to get thoughts or stories out in such a way that I can come back to them again later.

And I enjoy writing, at least in small chunks. I like to see something come together, but appreciate being able to call something "complete" after a small amount of time. In fact, I think I can be quite refreshed by doing a "deep dive" on the blog, and my husband encourages me to make time for it. 

And yet, when I tried to tell myself that one Lenten goal was to write a little bit every day, I felt guilty - and it wasn't just because I failed from the very start. I have sensed for a while that this writing is, in fact, a selfish thing. It's something I do because it's fun for me, but not something at the level of a charism, which I'm performing for the sake of the Kingdom of God


The Charism of Writing


A few years ago, my now-husband and I attended a "Called and Gifted" weekend workshop at a nearby parish. These workshops help participants start discerning what specific gifts they have been given by God to help build up the Church, such as hospitality, wisdom, healing, administration, and - amongst many others - writing. Though drawn to the idea of writing, it was not one that struck me as being a charism that I'm likely to have right now. The gist of it is that you might be given gifts primarily in certain areas, but other gifts can be developed or asked for over time. However, these gifts are not gifts just for the person who has them. They're meant to be used in service of others.

My writing has never really been at the service of others. At best, it has been applied to write what I hope were some solid thank-you or birthday cards, an acceptable toast, or, in the case of the first draft, some entertainment and encouragement to other creative folks in my friend circle. At worst, my writing has been something that I do for my own pleasure, refusing to share the product with others, or simply something that is the means to an end (completing a paper to receive a grade). When I write, it's not typically done with the intention to build God's Kingdom.

However, when I heard Fulwiler's words, they put their hooks in me and have been trailing after me ever since. Maybe the reason why I haven't been able to write in a self-donating way is that I haven't figured out the "why" that makes writing a gift for others instead of myself. For Fulwiler, her desire is, indeed, to share stories, but for the purpose of encouraging and lifting others up

I think this means that it's okay for me to enjoy doing something for myself, but the reason why I should write, if I am so called, is to be a help to others.


Helping to Carry Burdens Through Writing


What does it look like to relieve burdens through writing? It could look like Fulwiler's memoir here, One Beautiful Dream, that shows that it's possible to live a full and crazy and beautiful family life while making time for writing in the context of building up that family. It could be a theological treatise, like St. Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises, which can help readers make a retreat and grow closer to God. It could look like poetry, composed over time in various settings, that helps readers observe beauty in created things. It could look like a fantasy novel that is a "comfort read" when life is stressful.

One thing worth noting here is that the writing must be shared if it is to uplift. The work cannot just stay on a hidden blog page for aye and aye, with only the author taking a peek from time to time. If I am to write for something other than a frivolous hobby, I am to share it, whether it be with one person or with hundreds. Another element to ponder is that I don't have to write prolifically to do God's will. I may be called to write only one single draft of a novel, or a single nonfiction book of reflections, or nothing at all. God may be calling me to other duties, even if there is a desire in me to create something beautiful with words someday.

Fulwiler's statement clarified a final thought for me: good writing craft matters because the quality of the writing itself can uplift the reader. Being able to dissect grammar, craft a variety of sentences, structure paragraphs, and use symbolic language sometimes felt like dead-end activities in my literature classes, but now I realize that these elements can be as vital to engaging a reader as exciting plot elements or profound reflections. Writing can sometimes relieve burdens through a beautifully crafted sentence that causes a heart to lift or a mind to turn to God in gratitude.


Fighting Resistance


Earlier in her book, Fulwiler discusses the idea of "resistance," which she came across in a book entitled The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield. This concept means that there is always resistance to creative work - tight schedules, lack of motivation, distractions, and more. Fulwiler took this idea and went even further with it, stating that Satan might resist human creativity because of the good it can do. 

I'm don't think this means I'm meant to write books and all my difficulties up to now were the result of outside resistance to my destined work. However, I see now that, if I am ever to find out if God wants me to write, I need to make writing happen. There will always be sirens calling for my attention from every corner, but I will need to tie myself to the mast of this work if anything is to come out of this long-time desire compose something beautiful.

With this in mind, I set a goal for myself now. On the next journey I take, I will make sure to spend time writing for at least five minutes during 10 days. I might miss a day here or there, but I will consult my husband about what I should write about, and go from there. Then, I will share what I've written with friends. 

Jennifer Fulwiler, thank you for pursuing God's call to you to write. I have found encouragement to pursue more of the creative life.

Monday, June 2, 2025

May Book Bracket 2025

May Book Bracket


May started off slowly on the reading front, but the availability of audiobooks for chore-time at home helped me keep those numbers high. This month was definitely heavy on audio, but I hope my commitment to reading more of the books I own already will pay off in the next few months.




A Short History of the World According to Sheep, by Sally Coulthard**


This book covers different developments in societies, laws, and culture that were prompted in some way by the interaction of mankind with sheep.

Why I picked it up: I got Audible back, and this one was available for free. I'd enjoyed nonfiction works like this before, and I wanted to give it a try.

My impressions: Though there were some interesting points to ponder in this work, it was a book that I was considering putting down halfway through because I just wasn't really invested in it. Yeah, I guess I was learning things, like the varying qualities that make different kinds of sheep wool desirable, or how important spinning and knitting were to preindustrial society, but it wasn't gripping enough to make me feel like it was a good use of my listening time. I eventually decided to finish it, but mostly for the sake of saying I finished it. Later in the book, the information moved away from sheep specifically and focused more heavily on the industrialization of society and the role mechanized manufacture of cloth had to play in it. I skipped most of the last chapter because it started with talking about prostitutes in France and I really didn't want to hear where or how that connected with sheep. I won't say there's nothing to be gained from this book, but I didn't like it enough to recommend it.

Set the World on Fire: A 4-Week Personal Retreat with the Female Doctors of the Church, by Vinita Hampton Wright


A spiritual director and speaker takes readers through a personal retreat of daily readings and questions by reflecting on the four female Doctors of the Church.

Why I picked it up: A friend in one of my book groups picked up a copy at a retreat she attended and was excited to read it with us.

My impressions: This book was a nice sort of do-at-home Catholic retreat book, but one that's more likely to appeal to women than to men. I can't say that I gave it the full reflection time that was recommended, and I certainly did not do all the activities that were part of the process, but it contained some good reflections. I think the author did a good job of picking a particular focus for each of the four saints, and she drew from their respective works. I got the feeling that the author did much reflecting and put a lot of work into this book. I think it's important to remember that there's so much more that we can learn from these women than what's in these pages. Unfortunately, I'm writing this review a week or so after I finished reading, and I didn't write notes in the book as I went. I do know that I had some great discussion with the friends I read this with, including topics such as the tension between the effort we put into growing in holiness, versus the work God does in us towards that end. I liked that this book, although more likely to appeal to women, doesn't feel like it's just for women. It asks retreatants to do some solid reflecting, and I love it when a female-oriented Catholic event or product feels like it has some theological heft to it, like what I might expect to see in something marketed for Catholic men. It's a good do-at-home retreat type of book, but I do wonder what will become of it if/when more women are elevated to the status of "Doctor of the Church." I think this book would appeal more to women, but I think men can benefit from this book, as well.

Silverwing, by Kenneth Oppel


Shade, the runt of his bat colony, finds adventure, friends, and hungry foes as he loses his way to the hibernation cave of his colony of silverwing bats.

Why I picked it up: Someone recommended this book at the very first Beverages and Books event we hosted, and it has lived on my to-read list ever since. I found it for cheap at public library's store and decided to try it out after Lent.

My impressions: This is a weird book. There were elements of it that I liked, including exciting scrapes and close encounters with disaster that the main characters manage to navigate. I rarely had any ideas about what would happen next. There is a sweep of almost epic proportions in this tale, with disintegrating relationships between different species of animals and mysterious interactions with humans creating a sense of high stakes for the reader. However, it was, at times, a gruesome and somewhat bizarre tale. There are some myths that contribute to worldbuilding, and it was fine so long as the bat gods referenced in the myths were merely the substance of legend. However, things got a little eerie when it seemed like there was a possibility that there were functioning bat gods in this fantasy universe. Also, it was a bit of a clash with the setting, in which there are modern cities and scientists roaming as well. There was also an encounter with a sort of cult-like bat group that really weirded me out. Some sections were creepy and some were kind of gross, but I did want to know how the story ended. There wasn't a really satisfying conclusion, because this is apparently the first book of a trilogy. I went ahead and read the detailed synopses of the next two books...and I would say, don't spend your reading time on this strange book or the ones that follow it.

Dragon Slippers, by Jessica Day George**

A girl seeks her fortune as a prospective seamstress in her nation's capitol - but her plans become inextricably entwined with the fate of long-forgotten dragons.

Why I picked it up: When looking at what options were available on Audible for free, I found out that this authors Tuesdays at the Castle series was only for purchase - but this fantasy series was available!

My impressions: After a slow start that was strongly reminiscent of the Dealing with Dragons series by Patricia Wrede, the story came into its own and achieved a climactic ending. I was not impressed by the first 20% of the story or so, and considered putting it down. It played with the "dragon steals fair maiden" trope in a way that had me thinking of Dealing with Dragons way too much, comparing and contrasting one with the other. The main character, Creel, has some distinctive personality traits at the beginning, but I think she has some subtle development as the story progresses, and it's neat to think of her development being less pronounced rather than in-your-face. The world-building is pretty good, but I was uncomfortable with her term for her people's gods, and, frankly, I think the story could have done with even less explanations of her religion than were present - and there wasn't a ton on that front. I liked the characters, but I think that this book would not be interesting to boys - especially once the book hits the seamstress storyline hard in the middle. I imagine some girls would love the luscious gown descriptions, and I enjoyed it, myself, but it's certainly a story element that is just not going to jive with every reader - even when the stakes rise higher and some exciting action starts happening. Some characters are gossipy, and Creel is more physically aggressive at times than I expected, but the main plot is pretty interesting, especially as one gets farther into the story. There's some romance, and nothing that would be considered scandalous, but there are some comments here and there that focus perhaps a little much on the physical/visual elements of being attracted to someone. Alchemy is discussed in the book, but the author doesn't go into depth about how alchemy works - it's just the magic of this particular world. There is some discussion of stealing which isn't really resolved in a satisfactory way, but it's primarily in one portion of the story. I think middle school girls would be fine reading this book, but it doesn't hurt parents to know what's in the story. Boys could appreciate more of the dragons and action, less of the sewing and dress designing.

The Birchbark House, by Louise Erdrich


Omakayas, a girl of the Ojibwa tribe, lives the rhythm of a year in the company of her family, learning the traditions and, when winter comes, fighting a devastating illness.

Why I picked it up: This book was recommended somewhere - it was mentioned as a Native American perspective on the time in which the Little House on the Prairie books takes place.

My impressions: The beginning of the story really had me thinking this would be a story told in the style of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, just from an Indian perspective, but it turned out to be far grimmer and sadder than I anticipated. There's some heavy stuff in this book - including death, serious illness, and depression. It is even mentioned that one character tried to die by his own hand after the loss of a loved one - it is covered in a single paragraph, but that's still a heavy topic to throw out there in a kid's book. Stylistically, there are indeed similarities to the Wilder books, such as the illustrations, the description of life, in its wonder and hardships and family relations and daily tasks, but it just didn't have the same cozy feel as the Little House books. Perhaps it is because there is a looming sense of potential loss at the hands of white people running as an undercurrent through the story. There are some endearing parts, for sure, but also a few creepy stories. Missionaries are mentioned periodically, but Omakayas' family certainly embraces Native American beliefs and spirituality, so parents might want to be aware of that. I considered if I wanted to continue reading the series, but decided against it because it wasn't a delightful read and there are other books I'd much rather read. I wouldn't necessarily recommend it because of the heavy content in parts, but some more mature students could read this, maybe in upper elementary or middle school.

Dragon Flight, by Jessica Day George**


The second book in the series about Creel, a girl who befriended dragons and now must help save her country by investigating reports of dragons being trained to attack her homeland.

Why I picked it up: I enjoyed the ending of the first book in the series, and wanted to find out what happened next.

My impressions: This book is more likely to be enjoyed by boys than the original book was, as it has plenty of spying, dragon action, and daring feats, but there's still an emphasis on relationships, upcoming weddings, and Creel's slow burn with her love interest that keeps this book, perhaps, more solidly in the realm of works likely to be enjoyed by girls. Creel's personality has solidified by this point in the series, and it was fun from the get-go to see how she's not afraid to take charge. She's hotheaded and often on the edge of saying something that will likely upset the authority in the room, but she's brave and clever and likeable. There are more comments in this book about the visual side of attraction - guys commenting how nice girls look in foreign pantaloon-style outfits, a girl saying she'll consider how a guy looks shirtless later on, etc., than in the first book - so that's something to be aware of. It's not scandalous by any means, but not quite as squeaky-clean as some books are when they have romance in them. There's still seamstress activities and clothing descriptions, but not nearly as much as in the first book, so the balance feels better there. The issue of stealing which was not addressed particularly in the first book comes back around in this tale, as do discussions of politics that are enough to world-build, but not overwhelming. This book felt more balanced than the first one, with the exception of a denouement that goes on really long. It's still interesting and necessary for wrapping up the story, but the big fight happens quite a distance from the ending of the tale. Middle school readers would probably be the best match in age for this book.

Proust and the Squid: The Story and Science of the Reading Brain, by Maryanne Wolf**


A researcher on reading and the brain explains the history of reading written words as well as what happens in the brain when people read - or struggle to read.

Why I picked it up: This book has professional interest for me. Even though I've read it before, I decided it would be good to review it before I moved on to other works by the same author that have more to say about reading and the impact of screens. It didn't hurt that it was available through Audible.

My impressions: This book is a pretty good introduction to reading and the brain's activity during reading for those who are not scientists or reading specialists. I found the history of writing and reading very interesting, and probably more so than the sections that focus on the brain - but that is at least partly due to the fact that I've had plenty of formal instruction related to the science of reading. The author advocates her cause well, arguing that there are dire emotional consequences to not learning how to read, and how this travesty could be pretty easily avoided better equipping teachers with knowledge.  Wolf provides the reader with some provocative reflection questions as part of her reading manifesto - and I appreciate that she went ahead and followed up on those questions by writing another book or two to address concerns about reading and thinking in a digital age. I'm looking forward to reading that book. This would be a great book for adults who are interested in the history of reading and writing and the research that has been done on the reading brain.

A Place to Hang the Moon, by Kate Albus**


Three children must not only navigate the trials of being sent to live with foster families in the country during wartime, but also hope to have one of those families turn into a forever home.

Why I picked it up: I think I'd seen this book recommended somewhere, and I picked it up at the local Friends of the Library bookstore for cheap. I ended up listening to it on Audible because it was easier for me to access that way, rather than dedicate precious sit-down reading time to it.

My impressions: This is a pretty good book, with highs, lows, and realistic sibling relationships, but there are a few minor negative points in it. Let's get to the negatives first. I've seen several versions of cover illustrations for this book, and they're all misleading. They present the children's lineup according to age as boy-girl-boy, but the girl is actually the youngest. The characters discuss the legend of Lady Godiva with their class, and my opinion is that going through a tale about a woman riding naked through the streets of a town is not my idea of excellent imagery that I want child readers thinking about. There's also some underlying messages about lying or deception, which insinuate that, although they're not ideal, might be the best course of action to take in the children's situation. I could see what the author was getting at - that revealing their true position and likelihood of inheriting wealth would endanger the children. However, that's a pretty slippery slope and makes me wonder where this sort of rationalization would end. One of the great parts about this book was that it had a little bit of the feel of some of the classics that are referenced throughout, including A Little Princess and, I assume, Heidi (which I've read before, but during elementary school). There are a few parts that could be hard for more sensitive kids to read, as the reader feels for the characters in their trials, which can be pretty stark. The writing was thoughtful and painted scenes well without being hyper-detailed. There's a character I found myself disliking but also pitying - I don't know that I've seen the desperation of poverty displayed like this in the children's books that I've read. I wish that there'd been more closure on a certain storyline, but it didn't prevent the ending from feeling mostly-satisfactory, although somewhat predictable. I think this book would be fine for less-sensitive kids to read, so long as parents were alright with the Lady Godiva bit and knowing there were some flaws in the reasoning about deception.

The Hero and the Crown, by Robin McKinley**


A fantasy tale follows the misfit Aerin, as she battles her insecurities and serves her country by taking on dragons and mighty foes to save her land.

Why I picked it up: This book had been on my to-read list at some point. It was available for free through Audible.

My impressions: This fantasy adventure has a lot of good things going for it, but it had enough uncomfortable elements that I was left feeling a little yucky at the end. The main negative qualities were Aerin having two love interests, and one of them was her first cousin (ick). There's more to it than that, but there seemed to be a lot of time spent on these relationships with a romantic view in mind. I don't think there was anything overtly scandalous (I skimmed or skipped here and there), but there were descriptions of Aerin being held in so-and-so's arms, a few references to more "adult" language like describing someone as having a "lover's smile", etc. I just wanted to get back to the action, which was well written. In fact, while the prose didn't strike me as being particularly beautiful, there certainly were beautiful phrases. It was good, solid writing. I enjoyed much of the world-building, which included a view that dragons are evil creatures - a refreshing nod to how dragons were historically viewed in Western culture. In fact, the author did such a good job depicting the evil of one particular dragon that I was starting to get a little creeped out. I will say that, although there is a plot and Aerin's character follows a trajectory of development, the story itself seems a little bit disjointed. There are multiple bad guys, with a main big baddy being at the back of much grief that occurs during the book, but he's not the final one to be dealt with. The books sets up for a sequel, but I won't be listening to that one - the romantic relationship stuff was not my type of thing, and I don't think I'd recommend it because of that element in particular.

One Beautiful Dream: The Rollicking Tale of Family Chaos, Personal Passions, and Saying Yes to Them Both, by Jennifer Fulwiler**


A Catholic convert describes her family's story of coming together as a unit to help her pursue a personal passion so she could be fully engaged as a wife and mother.

Why I picked it up: This was a book that had been on my to-read list for a while, and I decided to use an Audible credit to obtain it. I'd read the author's conversion story previously and enjoyed it.

My impressions: This memoir is an encouragement to any family woman (or man) who wants a vibrant family life as well as time to pursue creative hobbies. I enjoy Fulwiler's writing style and appreciate the opportunity to look through a window into her life, as it were. She's honest about the struggles she faces, and I found her writing humorous, easy to listen to, and high-quality. I loved how she shaped the narrative and brought it full-circle. Her Catholic faith hugely important to the narrative, as were the decisions she and her husband made in light of that faith. I wish she'd talked more about why she and her husband didn't pursue sterilization, but she was very open about her faith and I loved how she talked about hospitality and welcoming everyone who comes into our lives - including the children born to us. She is real about the difficulty of making friends as adults, and shows how gaps in our community circle can be filled by the people we encounter. She talks a bit about her process of getting published, which was pretty neat for this reader, who might be curious about it, but way too scared of getting overwhelmed to look into it. I feel more than ever that I should write more, or do some sort of creative output, and she even put into words what a good motivation could be: "I wanted to tell stories, to relieve people's burdens" (Ch. 36). I have more thoughts on this - hopefully, to be written later. I recommend reading this book, especially to Christians and Catholics, and even more particularly to those with creative tendencies.


Bracket Play


Having ten books makes for a bit of an awkward bracket, but it still works.



In the first round, it was pretty easy to pair weaker books (A Short History...Sheep, The Hero and the Crown, The Birchbark House, Silverwing) against stronger books. The weaker books were disliked for various reasons, including uncomfortable content, sometimes disturbing or upsetting content, and/or not being as interesting. I will say that two of those books, The Hero and the Crown and The Birchbark House, had some meritorious elements in writing craft, but they had enough strikes against them to warrant simple losses to other works. The two dragon books by Jessica Day George were also pitted against each other in the first round, with the second book being the one that won the faceoff for better overall pacing and adventure throughout.

Fulwiler's book had a buy on this next round. A Place to Hang the Moon was an enjoyable listen, but I gave the victory to the 28-day retreat book based on reflections on the female Doctors of the Church. It was certainly more theologically sound, and it has some good reflections in it. I also marked the nonfiction work about reading as the winner when facing the dragon fantasy book because Proust and the Squid was at a higher level of writing than Dragon Flight.

Wolf's book had a buy in this next round, so One Beautiful Dream faced Set the World on Fire and the memoir won. While I recognize the excellent content of the retreat book, it just didn't have the same impact on me that Fulwiler's book did. 

And impact is the reason that One Beautiful Dream wins this month's bracket. While reviewing the history and brain research of reading is important and sets me up nicely for further reading on the topic of reading this year, Fulwiler had me reflecting on family mission, community, hospitality, and creativity, and reaching out to others to suggest that they might enjoy this book, too.

Books Attempted and Put Down


King Lear, by William Shakespeare; Edited by Joseph Pearce*

A famous tragedy follows the consequences of a conceited king's decision to banish his loving daughter and rely, instead, upon his false-dealing offspring.

Why I picked it up: I had read this in high school already, but this one was required by a book group I attend.

Why I put it down: I read the first act, but it's not an uplifting story and I didn't want to follow a descent into madness, relive a scene of eye-popping cruelty, dwell on the machinations of scheming offspring, or experience the heartbreak of the death of a beloved character. I just spark-noted the next four acts and felt like I'd done my duty by at least trying it again. I'm hoping that the book choices are a bit lighter for this book club in the next couple years.

The Way of Imperfection, by Fr. Andre Daigneault


A priest discusses holiness not as climbing a ladder of personal perfection, but rather embracing the cross of humility as we descend into our imperfections to let God transform us.

Why I picked it up: My younger sister recommended this one to me and said she thought I'd really like it.

Why I put it down: I actually originally put this down sometime last year because I didn't like the feelings I was feeling when I read it. There's something to be said for sitting through discomfort, but I've also come to realize that it's okay to put books down - even recommended spiritual reading - if it's not right for me at this time. I gave it another chance this Lent, and found it less troubling, but I found myself still not feeling particularly encouraged by this work. At least initially, there's a lot of focus on human imperfection, and I don't know that it's necessarily the best work for me to be reading at this point in my life. Other people might get a lot out of it, and maybe someday I'll come back to it - but maybe I won't.

Ruth, by Elizabeth Gaskell*


An orphaned, unmarried woman bears a child out of wedlock, but finds friends and takes initiative in her own life by nursing others in spite of the judgment of others and deprivations of her situation.

Why I picked it up: This was the pick for the book club to which I belong. I could tell this wasn't likely to be one I'd enjoy, so I found a public domain version to read.

Why I put it down: I was right. I didn't even make it through the first chapter, even though nothing bad had happened yet other than the main character was living in sweatshop conditions. The percentage of book read was increasing slowly, indicating this was a long work, so I looked up the summary on Wikipedia. Yup - I'm okay with not dedicating vast amounts of my summer reading time to this work, especially since there are so many I want to get to that I anticipate actually enjoying. The writing and characterization were lovely, as it was Gaskell who wrote it, but I ain't got time or emotional space for Industrial Revolution The Scarlet Letter-esque tomes this year.

Sunday, May 4, 2025

April Book Bracket 2025

 April Book Bracket


April was a busy month, particularly since it involved preparing for Easter, and then an alumni choir concert. However, it was great to see that I still had a good reading month.




Edge of Extinction: The Ark Plan, by Laura Martin**


Sky acts on a late-found note from her father, who disappeared years ago, and lives the wild adventures of life in the dinosaur-infested world outside her post-apocalyptic life in the tunnels.

Why I picked it up: This book was recommended by Sarah McKenzie of the Read-Aloud Revival podcast. I'd tried listening to it about this time last year, but wasn't in the right headspace for it then. I was looking for an audiobook to try and this one came to mind.

My impressions: If you're going to have a post-apocalyptic world with a key character being a female with red hair (that seems to be a bit of a trope?), it really needs to include dinosaurs. It was so dangerous to be around even small dinosaurs that most scenes that took place after a certain point in this story had more at stake than a Marvel superhero movie. The book was originally meant to be the first half of a single book, but it looks like this is part one due to length. (I did some quick research on the author's website.) I'm definitely excited to listen to the next book, and this experience goes to show, once again, that just because a book isn't right for you at a certain time doesn't mean you have to put it down for forever. As a book taking place in a post-apocalyptic world, it doesn't seem to have much of the typical social commentary I would expect - just some depictions of a heavy-handed authoritarian government doing sketchy things - but maybe there will be more to come in the next book? But, honestly, I won't be upset if this is just an adrenaline ride set in a post-apocalyptic world and didn't have any deep things to say about something that's wrong with our society. Because, dinosaurs. Rawr. I think this book is a lot of fun, but it's kind of intense because the author isn't scared to write about blood, injury by mauling, and death by dino, although these are not super graphic...only somewhat. This book would be good for middle school students who can handle some of the more intense scenes, but I enjoyed it quite a bit and wanted to know what happened next.

Manners Begin at Breakfast: Modern Etiquette for Families, by Princess Marie-Chantal of Greece


A real-life princess provides a cute book about modern etiquette, as it can be taught in families.

Why I picked it up: I saw this in an ad online either on Facebook or Pinterest, and was intrigued. I had no intention of reading it any time soon, but I stepped into the newly-renovated library branch that is closest to my house, and I couldn't help but notice it was in the new release section. So, of course, I couldn't help but check it out...

My impressions: I think this is a great book for people in any stage of life who want to know what's what in the world of good manners. Though geared towards parents teaching children, I was able to learn a thing or two and pick up some pro tips. I had a training recently about the negative effects of screen time on language development, and was fascinated to see that she was pretty spot-on with everything she shared in the realm of tech etiquette. Cute illustrations and a chapter about family etiquette - with an emphasis on the importance of family - were great as well. There were a few comments about how it's good for kids to be exposed to all sorts of lifestyles and family situations through what they see online...my own beliefs differ, but moments like that came up only once or twice and were quick to move past. I have tried to be better about not talking with my mouth full because of this book; there is a lot in it that is informative and helpful, and always shared in a kind way. I had a vague sense that these etiquette "rules" were maybe more her own personal take and the result of reflecting current norms, but that doesn't mean the guidelines are inaccurate. I think the only thing missing would be examples of how to phrase things. For example, at the end of each chapter, the author shared questions she'd received through the years, and said, "Establish [this boundary], but say it kindly." What would an example of tackling a delicate topic like that be? A good book for quick and dirty look at etiquette, this would be good to have on hand as a resource when raising kids.

Girl, Arise! by Claire Swinarski**


The hostess of "The Catholic Feminist" podcast discusses what it means to be a Catholic and a Feminist at the same time.

Why I picked it up: Well...I got the Audible subscription going again and this book was available for free this time around. I think a good friend read it and posted about it on her site, so I was interested to see what I would think about it.

My impressions: If I were to summarize this book, it would be something like, the author encourages Catholic women to go out there and live their faith vibrantly, even if it's not in traditional gender role ways. Swinarski verbalizes well the belief that I've had for years, which is that, sometimes, it seems like Catholic women aren't always invited to the same rigor of spirituality of men (thinking of Catholic conferences and talks geared towards women vs. men). She also hits on a lot of points that I have pondered through the years, although I've never been one to call myself a "feminist". I don't connect with her as far as personality goes, as I'm more on the meek-and-mild side, I'd say, with a yearning for stay-at-home-mom-ness, even if I don't think I'd be able to do it myself. If I'm remembering my friend's review of this book, I think I have to agree that Swinarski's descriptions of some Catholics seem to dip into stereotypes, and I just don't quite know what to do with those. She had some things to say that called me out - such as trying to be better about not buying fast fashion, or how we're called to love our neighbors, our actual neighbors, and not just our fellow parishioners who agree with us. There's some good food for thought here. I'm not sure that I approach life with the same go-get-'em attitude as her, but there were quite a few things I agreed with her on, and some things to think over. A quick listen, it was a pretty good one, and is most relevant to Catholic women and, perhaps, feminists who'd like to understand how the Church is pro-women.

A good quote: "The history of civilization could actually be written in terms of the level of its women. If we spend our days discussing the perils of Facebook and that mean thing that political leader said, so will the rest of the world. If we spend our days racing toward holiness, helping our neighbors, and fighting for justice, so will the rest of the world." - Introduction

Edge of Extinction: Code Name Flood, by by Laura Martin**


Sky and company continue their quest to the heart of Lake Michigan, and then to another compound, to try to thwart the evil plan of the Noah to destroy all dinosaur life - which would also kill hundreds of people and render life topside impossible.

Why I picked it up: I was eager to continue the dystopian story started in the first book!

My impressions: It's hard for me to say which of these two books were better, especially since they were originally written as a single story. It took a little bit to get back into the swing of things, as there had to be a little recap to orient the reader, but things got thrilling pretty quickly. The pacing was great for the rest of the book, after maybe the first 25%, and I was eager to learn how everything went. I noted that there wasn't any specific commentary in this second book about the woes of society that led to this state of affairs - as I expect to see in dystopian tales - but, again, I'm not upset that this was just an honest adventure that was filled with dinosaurs. It utilized well the man vs. nature and man vs. man conflict elements to create an exciting story. The conclusion was satisfying, and I'd recommend this book to middle-grade students and older who can handle some intense scenes and some dinosaur-inflicted injury.

Impossible Creatures, by Katherine Rundell*


In the backyard of his grandfather (who has his own secret history), Christopher discovers a portal to a place filled with the mythical creatures of legend, and teams up with a girl his age, Mal, and some other vibrant characters to restore the magical health of this land and its creatures.

Why I picked it up: My nephew told me that he really liked this book from his school's Battle of the Books list and, since I've gotten him accustomed to talking books with me, I figured it would behoove me to read the book myself to share in his reading experiences that he talks to me about.

My impressions: The ending was a little rough for me, but the book had an overall message of embracing life, because even though it is hard and there is much evil, it is also beautiful with overwhelming goodness. I took issue with some elements of the author's style. Specifically, she described many actions that characters did to show, rather than tell - which is great - but her descriptions of those actions also were more poetic or "literary" than I would have liked? I know it's silly of me to critique, but it was a style that didn't jive with me. I also was irritated by the kids in the story disobeying elders - multiple times - and, more often than not, having something positive happen, like a breakthrough of a difficult situation or the forwarding of the plot in some way that wouldn't necessarily have happened without disobedience. I'll save my soapbox on the denigration of obedience in modern children's literature for another time. One last thing I didn't love was one worldbuilding element had some weird, but relatively mild, reincarnation/avatar stuff going on. There were lots of things to like about this story - adventure, the bringing together of all sorts of exciting, and sometimes terrifying, mythical creatures, a background romance that doesn't steal much focus at all, and some really moving moments. There was even a feast celebrating the returning hero which, for me, hearkened back to Redwall's homecoming feasts. Every adventure should end with a feast, in my opinion. It sounds like there's a sequel to this book out already, but I'm not sure that I will read it. This book could be a good fit for upper elementary and middle school readers who enjoy fantasy fiction, but there are some pretty sad parts and it would probably be good for parents to just know about what's in the story before handing it to kids.

Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi*


This classic Italian fairy tale tracks the mischief and grief that the wooden marionette, Pinocchio, causes for himself after he is created by his father, Geppetto, and adopted by the Fairy with Azure Hair.

Why I picked it up: I had to read this one for one of my book clubs. I wasn't anticipating liking it, so I obtained a free version in the public domain, rather than paying $15-$20 for the recommended version that included special commentary. Besides, I ended up getting some good commentary on it when I read Vigen Guroian's Tending the Heart of Virtue.

My impressions: This isn't necessarily a book that I foresee myself longing to read again, but I found it mostly enjoyable, and had more depth to it than I was anticipating; I can see why it's a classic. I've heard this book described as "dark" several times, but that isn't the word that I'd use for it. As a tale that is mostly pretty energetic and light-hearted, it certainly has elements that I found unsettling (I have come to realize I'm uncomfortable with transformations of humans into animals that are not instantaneous). There is indeed a scene where Pinocchio is hung and almost dies, and one in which he is almost drowned in his donkey-form, both of which could be pretty rough for some readers, but they were treated pretty lightly and moved on quickly to the next childish mishap, so it's not as dark as I thought it would be. What I really loved about this book is that it felt to me like a sort of depiction of the soul as it is clouded by sin, repents, makes good resolves, and yet keeps messing up. There is growth that the reader can see in Pinocchio; he steadily becomes better as the story progresses, even with the very serious errors that he continues to commit. The author gets close to preaching through the words of some of his characters, but never sounds too preachy. The conclusion seemed almost too abrupt, but it was quite excellent. It's a relatively quick read for an adult, but I think adults and children could potentially enjoy this story, with no additional commentary required to appreciate it. Just be aware of those parts mentioned above if you or your child are more sensitive readers.

Connections Over Compliance: Rewiring Our Perceptions of Discipline, by Lori L. Desautels


An educator and researcher explains how we can discipline differently in schools for students who come from backgrounds of adversity, who usually don't respond well to traditional discipline.

Why I picked it up: I had one more professional development day to fill at school, and since I was tired of watching videos online, I got permission to do a "book study."

My impressions: I read this book in a single day, excluding the in-depth appendix of resources and activities to try in the back, the introductions I skipped, and the paragraphs I skimmed here and there. I was initially not enjoying the book, in part due to its continual referencing the COVID pandemic. This book was set to release initially right around when the pandemic shut everything down, and it seems like the author had time to make edits to include allusions to the cultural crisis at that time. I've listened to audiobooks in the last few years that mention the pandemic, but this is maybe the first book whose references to COVID have been less fun for me. I also struggled with the first quarter of the book or so, because it seemed like the author was saying discipline just doesn't work in schools and never has. I eventually came to realize that what she was saying is traditional discipline doesn't work for some students, namely, the ones who have the biggest behaviors, the ones who are most disruptive to the classroom environment. That realization helped me get on board with more of what she was saying, but I was disappointed that it took so long for that distinction to become clear. Maybe the misunderstanding was more on me. In any case, I think she has some good things to say. Take this quote: 

"This doesn't mean giving students a pass for misbehavior. There are still consequences for poor choices, but regulating the feelings and sensations that a student experiences is the initial step, one that is critical for a sustainable change in behavior." (p. 101)

This essentially says that the first thing we need to do for kids who really struggle with big outbursts is to teach them better ways to regulate their bodies and emotions. However, we also don't just let students off the hook, either. I liked when she had stories of real life that drew from her experiences, but I found myself wishing for more of those engaging stories during some parts. She shows how reframing discipline can help improve the way school teams interact with students who have the most difficult and dangerous behaviors. However, it's not an exact science. This approach takes a lot of time and availability from adults in the school for students who struggle with operating by school expectations, and makes me wish there was a way to help students cope with difficult situations that wasn't the main responsibility of the schools. I also wonder about at what point we do involve more traditional consequences for students who have been deeply affected by childhood adversity; the author doesn't explain at what point it maybe is appropriate to say it's just too dangerous for certain behaviors to be happening in a certain environment. This could be a good book for educators and those who have questions about why school discipline may look different for different students, but it's not a book that I'd necessarily recommend others to read for fun.

The Spear, by Louis de Wohl


This work of historical fictions gives a story of the life of Cassius Longinus, the centurion who thrust his spear into Jesus' side after Jesus died at the crucifixion.

Why I picked it up: This book had been on my to-read list for a while, and a friend and I agreed that we'd read it together during Lent.

My impressions: This book was an exercise in changes of fortune, leaving me gripped by the tale at some moments, very frustrated at others, and very uncomfortable at yet other moments. I thought the author did a good job of bringing together stories from the Gospel and giving some of the lesser-thought about ones (at least for me) a life, such as Jesus talking about the deaths of those killed by Pilate through a tower collapsing on them. After reading Ben Hur and watching The Chosen and The Robe, it was interesting to see how this author approached the social and cultural workings of the Holy Land at the time when Jesus lived, with similarities and differences showing up in various aspects. This was certainly a better read than the drawn-out Ben Hur, but I'd hesitate to recommend it wholesale because of some very uncomfortable aspects, such as a marriage with a huge age gap that experiences some pretty intense drama. Two characters attempt suicide. I did appreciate how many strings were tied up by the end - that was a good touch. Some of the action scenes and dramatic developments were exciting and written well.  I think this book could be one to consider reading during Lent, but I don't think it's as impactful as other books - especially when one recalls the excellence of What Jesus Saw From the Cross.

Bracket Play




Well, this is one of those months I feel sheepish for the book I picked as best of the month. It was a weird mix of books to put in a bracket together. I paired the first of the dystopi-dino books with Impossible Creatures. This dino book won this matchup - Impossible Creatures had some good elements, but it didn't quite hit all the right notes for me. The good-manners book was paired with the other informational book, and it won because I enjoyed it a lot more and had more topics that I think would be of interest to more people. The next two matchups were a bit odd - a modern Catholic women's thoughts on feminism and faith versus a historical fiction story about the life of a saint who encountered Christ, and then the second dystopi-dino vs. the old classic Pinocchio. The Spear won this round, being more memorable and having some great parts in it. I figured Pinnochio could win this first round, mostly because it had some good depth to it and I knew the first dino book was still in competition.

The second round still had weird matchups, with the dino adventure beating a book about manners, and the life of a saint winning over a children's tale about a puppet that grows in virtue. Ultimately, I didn't give the win to the religious book. I felt it was a bit awkward, especially since the winning book didn't have any depth beyond what you'd expect for an adventure in a dino-infested world. But, it's the book that I already mentioned to someone as one that I've read recently and enjoyed. It was a lot of fun, and I guess it wins this month.

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Deep Dive: Tending the Heart of Virtue

 Tending the Heart of Virtue: My Thoughts


This is one of the books that has been growing old on my to-read list, waiting for me to pick it up. Last year, I bought it at my favorite local bookstore, after which I promptly put it on my shelf without even leafing through it.

Then, January of 2025 arrived, as did discussions with friends about their reading habits in 2024 and prospective reading goals for the new year. I eventually decided I'd follow the lead of others and commit to reading more of the books that I actually own, rather than going to the library and finding something there. This is one of those books that is finally leaving the purgatory of unread-books-sitting-on-the-shelf.

There was something very comforting about starting to read this book, and I don't know if I can explain what it was. Perhaps it's Vigen Guroian speaking about topics I love very deeply - children's literature, the effect that entertainment has on human formation, etc. Maybe it's a pseudo-intuition of the comfort of familiarity, since I watched a free Hillsdale College online class that he led. Or, it could be the fact that he quotes so many writers and works that I love. In any case, when I started this deep dive, I could tell from my place in Chapter 1 that this is a man I'd like to write a letter to when I finish this book.

Introduction and Chapter 1


It's funny how often I love the introduction to some of the books I end up reading. Not to say the rest of the book isn't great, but I really enjoyed reading the introduction and first chapter. I combine them here because one flowed into the other well. I was grateful to be reading the revised and expanded version of this book.

Most of the quotes I made note of came from these sections. He does a good job explaining what a moral imagination is, why it is important, and how we kid ourselves when we think that we can have a truly secular education...there will always be an indoctrination of some kind, whether we realize it or not.

There are a few things I wish he'd elaborate on a little bit. First of all, how much engagement does there need to be between the adult and the child for these moral lessons to sink in? And if adult engagement is required, doesn't that run the risk of turning reading these great stories into a chore to accomplish, a means to an end? I think there would be some interesting discussion to be had in that arena.

The other question I'd like addressed would be, why does he discuss books or stories that are fairly old? The most recent books he presents to the reader hail from about 70 years ago (The Chronicles of Narnia series). I know that there's a lot of value in these old books, which are never on the shelves at Scholastic book fairs, I notice, but is there a particular reason that he doesn't have anything more modern?

He makes me want to be more widely read, to tackle philosophical works like After Virtue and try that again. It's a good start.

Chapter 2


I must admit, I wasn't thrilled to read about Pinocchio, it never having been a story that appealed to me. However, reading his commentary helped me feel up to the task of reading it for one of my book clubs, and allowed me to let go of the concern that I'd be missing seriously good insight if I didn't buy the special edition recommended by the book club's organization. I don't think I'm going to enjoy reading that story any more than I would have before reading Tending the Heart of Virtue, but I feel ready to appreciate it and look out for certain elements along the way.

Also noted here...it looks like this is another author who likes to explain what's wrong with Disney movie adaptations of classic stories. I have to admit, I love some of those movies, so it's sort of weird to come across people who are really down on the changes Disney made.

Chapter 3


Oh boy...reading about "The Little Mermaid" is just as much a gut-punch now as it was when I first read the original - or, at least, a close adaptation of the original. I also learned that if you're going to have a female character in a story and you have any imagery that puts blood and the moon in the same scene, some people might make the jump to the assumption that you're talking about the menstrual cycle. Weird, but good to know, I guess. I suppose that's part of the world of literature - you can have a set of symbols that are meant to mean something, but people can run with it in a totally different direction. This chapter, and later ones, also remind me that this book is a collection of one man's take on classic stories. These are his interpretation, and just because it makes sense doesn't mean that it's the definitive interpretation out there. 

All that to say, I certainly do appreciate what he has to say. I wouldn't be opposed to reading the partnered selection, "The Tale of the Velveteen Rabbit", and consider having it be something I at least check out for my household.

Chapter 4


This chapter was a bit of an odd one. The first bit made sense, about The Wind in the Willows and the idea of encountering the world and growing through friendship. Making some of the focus about mentorship doesn't make as much sense to me (explored through Charlotte's Web and Bambi). I don't know that kids need to have "mentorship" instilled as part of their moral education, although I'm certain that Charlotte's Web has some great literary merit to it. Maybe I'm just biased because I tried listening to the Bambi audiobook version and wasn't convinced it was worth finishing even the first chapter, but a lot of this chapter didn't resonate with me.

If nothing else, this book has me curious about The Wind in the Willows again, which I hadn't been much impressed or moved by during my original read.

Chapter 5


Most excellent! We're back to some meaty good stuff - The Snow Queen and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe! This chapter was excellent, breaking down what was going on in the Hans Christian Anderson tale and tackling the incredibly written dilemma of Edmund in C. S. Lewis' classic. This chapter was all I hoped it would be and had me dreaming about writing up a musical for Lewis' books again.

Chapter 6


Even better than Chapter 5? This one looks at Lucy Pevensie and Princess Irene from The Princess and the Goblin - some of my favorites! I found it fascinating that Guroian had a chapter seemingly dedicated to female protagonists, but none to male ones, but that seems to be more because these characters depict courage, vision, and moral maturing so well, and just happened to be girls. I appreciated that. He goes so far as to explain the weird bathing scene in The Princess and the Goblin as a baptismal experience - fine there - but indicates he thinks MacDonald had the Great-Grandmother character depicting Mother Mary. I can see how he came to that conclusion, but I didn't think the Congregationalist minister would necessarily have given that sort of credit to Mother Mary, although I would. I always felt the character was a representation of God, and that it was strange to have a woman as a figure or representation of God in the story. Well, it is something I will try to think on the next time I read the book. I really appreciated how Guroian broke down the symbolism happening in MacDonald's work, as he does later. I know it's just his interpretation, but it adds a lot of depth to my understanding and appreciation of that delightful tale.

Also, as much as I love Lucy Pevensie, I think I'll always dislike The Last Battle. Even reading about that book is very uncomfortable for me.

Chapter 7


This is a good breakdown of two more tales by Anderson. I'd enjoy reading these originals more than "The Little Mermaid", that's for sure! Also, how have I never read the originals of these tales?

Chapter 8


I enjoyed this chapter and it made me feel good about already being familiar with The King of the Golden River. I especially appreciated his examination of landscape descriptions in that work...it will help me with a different blog post somewhere down the road. 

Chapter 9


I'd forgotten that I'd also read this somewhat strange tale by MacDonald already, The Wise Woman: A Double Story. I think it might have made a bigger impression on me at the time if I'd had this handy work nearby to refer to. I get the feeling that this book (Guroian's) is going to be well-liked by some relatives I know who are already raising their kids and getting into the world of reading with them.

Cliff-Hanger Conclusion


Guroian does have a conclusion, but it's not a cliff-hanger. That descriptor is for my conclusion here. I wasn't able to keep up with taking notes here, in the Deep Dive, while I was reading - especially while I was on vacation! Since I wrote this mostly after I finished the book, it's probably not as deep as a Deep Dive ought to be. However, I'm glad I went through it and recorded some thoughts, and I'm especially glad I finally sat myself down and made this my reading selection at last! It was a great book and I hope other people read it and share with me what they thought about it.


Monday, March 31, 2025

March Book Bracket 2025

 March Book Bracket


March had a slow start when it came to reading books, but a strong spring break performance helped boost the book count.




The Year of Miss Agnes, by Kirkpatrick Hill


Fred (short for Fredericka) and the other kids in her Alaskan backwoods village experience a year of wonder and growing love for learning under the tutelage of Miss Agnes.

Why I picked it up: I think this was recommended in Honey for a Child's Heart, and when I saw it on the shelf of a coworker, I boldly asked to borrow it.

My impressions: This book is best primarily when considered as a window into the lives of Alaskan Indians in small, isolated villages after the second world war. Reading it seemed like I was getting a feel for old-timey schooling, like one gets from the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. It was neat to track how one new individual could change so much in the lives of the residents, from relationships improving between parents and children to the inspiration the students felt to pursue more for their lives. There was one comment the narrator made about wanting to pursue and education and not wanting to have kids like so-and-so, which rubbed me the wrong way a little bit because it seems to reflect the statistic that more education leads to women wanting and/or having fewer babies, and the implication that family and personal betterment are mutually exclusive...of course, that's just a personal irritant and I'll step off the soap box to continue the review. There was little plot to the book, so that's a shortcoming, but it's a quick read and I came to care about the characters. It's a fine little book if you're wanting to introduce someone to Alaskan experiences (kind of like Switherby Pilgrims was a cool glimpse into the Australian outback).

Only the Lover Sings: Art and Contemplation, by Josef Pieper


A philosopher who was thinking and writing deeply after the second world war composed several essays, compiled in this book, about leisure, contemplation, and art.

Why I picked it up: I had read a little of Pieper's work before, so when I saw two titles from my to-read list at a local secondhand bookstore, I scooped them up! Picking up this book a year or so later was part of my resolution to read more of the books that I actually own.

My impressions: I was a big fan of Pieper's Leisure: The Basis of Culture, and found this book would be an excellent companion text to it. He covers similar points in a few places in the first essay, but it's not simply a condensed version of Leisure: The Basis of Culture. He had an interesting insight into how our culture creates a lot of visual "noise," as well as sound noise. He touches on silence, music, contemplation, art, and the how and why we have festivals (or feast days). This collection makes me think that perhaps Pieper was deeply convicted of the utter necessity for festival, feast days, and the leisure necessary to make them happen, and that personal conviction helped focus the train of his thoughts. It makes me think that, perhaps, I could benefit from determining what ideas really move me and dedicate more time to diving more deeply into them, rather than spreading myself wide across many areas. In any case, it was a quick read, but a good read that had some good points to ponder, too. It's nice to get back into a little philosophy again, and I think any high schooler or older who wants to contemplate contemplation, rest, music, and art would enjoy this book.

Prayer, by Pope Benedict XVI


The pope gave numerous general audiences focused on prayer, and this work is essentially the compilation of these weekly talks.

Why I picked it up: This was the book chosen by our small book club.

My impressions: Pope Benedict XVI is another author whose works I've been telling myself I need to read for years, and I think this book is a good representative of his work. He is understandable, but his clear manner doesn't mean he fails to go deeply - he does. When I read this book, I had the sense that I was learning from someone who is devoted to loving God and exploring the richness of His words in Scripture. I appreciated how the pope looked into so many different parts of the Bible to discuss prayer. There is so much in this book, but I think that Biblical view was what I appreciate most. It's like having a fantastic, trustworthy commentary for many parts of the Bible, both Old Testament and New Testament. I really should have sat down with the Bible passages he discusses and read them in tandem with his insights on them - I think that would be the best way to approach this book. I think any Christian who takes their faith seriously and wants to go deeper would do well to consider picking up this book.

Parish Priest: Father Michael McGivney and American Catholicism, by Douglas Brinkley and Julie M. Fenster**


This biography discusses the life of (now) Blessed Fr. Michael McGivney, the son of Irish immigrants who created the Knights of Columbus organization.

Why I picked it up: This is one of the books I decided to use an Audible credit on, since it was on my to-read list and didn't look like a book I'd be able to find more cheaply somewhere else.

My impressions: This book is great for learning about the Knights of Columbus organization, and certainly is a solid biography of the man who started it. The reader is given good background information about the standing of immigrants (and Catholic immigrants, especially), which very much shaped the course of Fr. McGivney's life. The social climate of the time helped me understand the importance of the Knights of Columbus - as well as why they chose that name (which I have wondered for a long time). It seemed like the authors drew assumptions here and there, sometimes from necessity, sometimes not, but the variety of documents they combed through, as well as the incorporation of so many people who met or worked with Father McGivney, is evidence of how thorough the authors were in their research. This is a good work that introduces readers to the life and work of a man who could become one of the United States' first native-born male citizens to reach sainthood, and I think any middle schooler or older could read it - but maybe high school age might be a better match of interest in this book. This could be a good book for those who are interested in learning about the Knights of Columbus.

A Common Life, by Jan Karon


Though the sixth book written in the Mitford series, this one would actually fall in the #3 slot in the timeline, going through the period of Father Tim's engagement to Cynthia and their wedding.

Why I picked it up: It was time to get a fun read in instead of a required one or a serious one! I knew I'd need a light read or two for my spring break trip.

My impressions: This was another great addition to the Mitford series. I wish I'd read it in the order it falls in the sequence, but it was still great reading it in publication order. It had seemed weird to jump from engagement to newly married, but this book perfectly filled that gap. It was a fast read, too - I finished it during what was probably a 24-hour period, but probably shorter than that. This is a great book for any Mitford fan - but read it third, not sixth!


Tending the Heart of Virtue: How Classic Stories Awaken a Child's Moral Imagination, by Vigen Guroian


A college professor, in this expanded version of the original work, takes a look at what he calls the "moral imagination" and walks through classic children's fairy tales and stories that help form this capacity in children.

Why I picked it up: This book had been on my to-read list for ages. It had been sitting on my shelf for six months. It was time!

My impressions: I'm glad I finally sat myself down with this book and read it! As it seems to happen with surprising frequency, I found my favorite part of this book might have been the introduction! Well, the intro and the first chapter. This book is like many others in that it takes a look at either a single work of literature, or multiple works, and explores them on a level deeper than that of a simple story. In Guroian's work, he states the concept or virtue being considered and looks at several different works that depict it. As with much criticism of literature, some stories could be interpreted through a different lens, or another critic might have drawn different conclusions. I can't say that I would enjoy the original "Little Mermaid" more now than when I first did as a child, but I do appreciate it more because of this work. I was reminded of my great love for other stories, such as the Chronicles of Narnia series and the Princess and Curdie books. I suppose that something I'd have liked in this book would be the author's ideas on how to discuss these stories with children so that we can appreciate their deeper meaning. Or, would he think it's best to just let children enjoy these stories as stories, and hope that an appreciation for these moral elements will sink in through mere exposure? I imagine that some adult interaction would be necessary to help make those connections, but the key would be finding a good balance so that the story isn't engaged merely as a means to attaining a virtuous end. This book was great and, not only a resource for parents looking for good books and discussion content, but a sort of class in literary criticism in itself. I'd recommend this book to parents of young children, but also to any high schoolers or older who just want to engage with children's literature at a deeper level.

In This Mountain, by Jan Karon


The seventh Mitford book covers a lot of ground - more run-ins with old enemies (diabetes being one), as well as the onset of depression, take a lot of Father Tim's time and effort as he hunts for missing Barlowe children and tries to be a good husband to his wife and friend to his hometown neighbors.

Why I picked it up: This was one of the light reads I was looking forward to reading on a spring break trip.

My impressions: This was a strong Mitford book. It was hard to see Fr. Tim experience depression, but it was also so good to see him fight his way through it with the love of his wife, his community, and, always, by the grace of God. Development of his character, and of several people around him, kept this book from being a same-old-same-old, a rehash of everything we've seen in the series already. However, the book has not lost any of its cozy charm and makes me want to pick up yet another one! I'll have to wait, I'm sure (looking at you, neglected books that I've made commitments to others to read), but fans of Mitford will certainly have lots to like about this book.

The King of the Golden City, by Mother Mary Loyola**


This allegory for children depicts the soul as a little girl, Delecta, as she matures and prepares to enter the Golden City, the home of the King who has met with her and loved her from the start. (Don't mistake this work for this similarly-titled The King of the Golden River, which is a different but excellent work.)

Why I picked it up: I was going through my to-read list when visiting a sister during spring break. My list was way out of hand, and I decided to sit down and actually research the titles on my list a little more to figure out if they are really books that I want to read. This was one book (possibly the only one) that I found out was public domain and available on Librivox.

My impressions: It had been a long time since I'd turned to Librivox for an audiobook, and I was pleased that the version I found had been completed by the same narrator. I don't usually go for straight allegories, preferring works that have some symbolic or allegorical elements, but I found there were some good points to listening to/reading this one. I found myself thinking more about my soul and the appetites my body has, particularly during this season of Lent. I liked that the allegory was pretty simple, so that children and even adults like me (I, who struggle with anything more subtle than clear symbolism) can grasp the realities that the story hints at. No, it's not really an exciting read, although I found some of the imagery appealing. It can certainly come across as preachy, but I didn't really expect anything else from an allegory, and it didn't have a better-than-though tone that would have bothered me. This work might help parents talk about spiritual realities with a child, and could be a great work to foster discussion, including when kids are approaching the time to receive the sacraments. However, I think it can also be helpful to older kids, teens, and adults who might be so used to thinking of God and the path to Heaven in a specific way that a fresh take on familiar truths would be an aid to deeper reflection.

Bracket Play



Happy day! An even bracket! There were no standout poor books this month, so I did have to think about the first round lineups. Between the two books written for children, I opted for The King of the Golden City because it had me thinking more about my spiritual life. While The Year of Miss Agnes had a unique "flavor", it wasn't as likely to be impactful as Mother Mary Loyola's book. Next, I decided that Tending the Heart of Virtue deserved to win over Only the Lover Sings at least partly because Guroian's work was a single, unified work with concrete ideas I could talk about with others. Pieper is great, but a collection of shorter essays on connected but varying themes is a little harder to explain to others - or remember well. Prayer was an incredible reflection on prayer, especially as it's seen in Scripture, so it won easily over Parish Priest - although that book was a good biography of an influential priest. In the matchup between the Mitford books, I gave the win to In the Mountain because it delved into the triumphs and struggles of life in a way that A Common Life did not - and was not meant to, either, being a book focused on the excitement of a wedding.

The second round was quicker to determine, because the two standout reads easily beat the others. Mother Mary Loyola's allegory is an allegory for Catholic children, and while it had its merits, it's just not my usual reading fare, and likely to resonate with a smaller audience. The pope's book easily put down the comforting, cozy Mitford book. And, while the pope's book definitely deserved to win, I decided to award the victory to Tending the Heart of Virtue. That book has had me thinking about it periodically since I read it, and I'm excited to share it with others. Even though I didn't mark it as such, Prayer certainly is worthy of being a very close runner-up this month. That's three months in a row of being conflicted about which worthy book deserves to win!

Books Attempted and Put Down


The Return of the Prodigal Son, by Henri J. M. Nouwen


A priest reflects on Rembrandt's The Return of the Prodigal Son masterpiece.

Why I picked it up: I thought meditating on the Prodigal Son parable would be a good Lenten activity. I thought maybe a saint had written it, and it was one book that had been previously read by a book group I now belong too. Also, the Rembrandt masterpiece appeared in another book that I previously attempted (and ultimately, failed) to read.

Why I put it down: The author, it turns out, is not currently a saint - he died in 1996 and I think I was confusing him with St. John Neumann. The author, a priest, was sharing about his personal experience with the famous artwork - and that's fine as an introduction to a work, but at some point in the intro, I decided to research the author a little bit. Catholic Answers indicates that his writing may not have a super strong theology in them: "He was not a dissenter, but some critics argue that he could have been stronger in advancing Catholic doctrine in his writings." This might be something I revisit someday, especially if I want a great dive into the parable, but I lost interest in it for now.

Cry, the Beloved Country, by Alan Paton


This classic work explores a father's search for his son on the streets of Johannesburg, South Africa, amidst the rising racial tensions just prior to the institutionalization of Apartheid.

Why I picked it up: This book was chosen for a book club that I'm in.

Why I put it down: I made it about a third of the way through on the first day of the road trip, and the part describing the shanty town was starting to get to me. I decided that I wanted to dedicate more time to reading Tending the Heart of Virtue during the road trip, when I would have lots of mostly-uninterrupted time to get it read (I have at least one person waiting to read it when I finish). I read this book in high school, so I didn't feel too bad about not finishing it. However, the gals at book club talked about liking it so much that I kind of do want to see if I can finish it. It's possible that this paragraph gets deleted after being posted in case I'm able to do that.