Books 671-675

Good morning.

Did you sleep well?

What did you have for breakfast? 

Did you have breakfast?

I have a cup of coffee. 

If you can't tell,

we're having a slow start over here.

Building maintenance is supposed to be coming by,

so I'm trying not to get too involved with schoolwork yet.

(I'm not going to lie,

I'm one of those people who cleans up their apartment

—stuffs everything in the closet, 

hides all of the floating papers in a drawer, 

and stacks all the books against the wall so they look like they're supposed to be there—

in an attempt to not look like an academic delinquent.)

So basically I'm just sitting here waiting 

until I can get back to putting post-it notes on everything

and trying not to get coffee stains on library books.

In the meantime, though, I've had a great idea for a new game. 

If you remember,

in past games we've renamed books,

written one-sentence stories,

and once I even designed new covers based off of the titles.

(That last one we're not doing again any time soon,

takes too much time.)

Today I was thinking we could do something a little different.

Remember that awkward stack of grad school books

I mentioned in the second paragraph?

(If you don't,

this might be a good time to call your doctor

and make an appointment to get that memory-loss thing checked out.

Do it now, before you forget.

Or just read the second paragraph again.)

Moving on.

Today we're going to give our five books from my parents' shelves new titles again,

but this time we're going to give them titles

from my leaning tower of research,

and then give a one sentence synopsis.

Sounds fun, right?

And, since I'm nice, 

I'll even include links to the original (academic) books for you.

Good times.

 

Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer

Hijinks ensue in the tale of a city's greening efforts when

successful urban farming leads to overly successful animal husbandry. 

 

Encyclopedia of Taboos

A young boy learns not to talk to or acknowledge plague victims

and why his village shuns decorative porch molding. 

With These Hands: The Hidden World of Migrant Farmworkers Today

A tale of personal strength and triumph:

Archibalda, a young factory worker, 

meets her dress-making quota, 

pays off her student loans, 

and follows her dreams

to go on to be a successful professional hot air balloonist.

(Yeah, I don't know where the name "Archibalda" name came from, either.)

You Don't Say: Modern American Inhibitions

A humongous, ghostly figure looms over a major highway

and must be overcome by a lone and lonesome traveler

in this suspenseful thriller, based on (not) true events.

Wrongs of Passage: Fraternities, Sororities, Hazing, and Binge Drinking

College life isn't what it seems in this

Alice in Wonderland meets Beer for Dummies tale. 

Okay, so I'm not actually reading those last two books,

Alice and Beer,

but I thought I'd include links for you all anyway.

Also, wouldn't 

Alice and Beer

make a great band name? 

Or just a great title for something in general?

Dibs.

Books 666-670

Salutations. 

So today is a little awkward.

I know, right?

What day around here isn't awkward?

But seriously.

Today is the day 

any extremist Christians we might have around here

will stop reading this blog.

Actually, I'm pretty sure we lost any extremists 

way back on the first bookcase,

what with all of the Yiddish-English dictionaries and such.

Actually, 

I'm pretty sure we never had any extremists. 

This blog just isn't that extreme.

Can you imagine if extreme blogging was a contact sport?

I don't know what that would entail,

but I would totally watch it.

I digress.

Today we have book number 666,

which is apparently the country code for Mali

and has something to do with Satan,

or, according to Yahoo answers, Satan's pet beast,

or, according to Wikipedia, a manga series named O-Parts Hunter.

It's all very confusing.

I guess Satan lives in Mali with a pet beast,

where s/he reads manga,

possibly on a beach?

That doesn't sound like a bad life.

We're going to overlook my general cluelessness, though,

and use this all as a theme for today's game:

one sentence stories.

The townspeople prayed for the reign of havoc and chaos to end,

but just as they thought it was safe to come out of their homes again,

the beast returned —

the gargantuan, bulbous fist of death ready and waiting for the un-pious.

(Okay, un-pious isn't a word.

Whatever.)

Being the anti-christ really wasn't that bad;

nobody messed with him on the playground

and by keeping a hippopotamus around,

he never had to worry about monsters hiding under his bed.

 The constant vacant look in the girl's eyes

had made Miss Honeyblossom suspicious,

but the picture confirmed her worst fears:

this child was the devil.

 

Mali hadn't been Marge's first pick for retirement destinations,

 but looking out into the dark night,

finally away from the Satanic Twitter and mindless news feeds 

that had overwhelmed her daily life,

she was finally at peace.

 It was the Scopes Monkey Trial all over again,

only this time,

science would not only win, 

but George would make sure the religious right knew it —

even if he had to use manga propaganda to prove it. 

Think you can write a better Satanic/Mali/manga sentence?

You're always allowed to play along in the comments.

But you knew that already.

So whatever.

Books 661-665

Good morning.

How was your week?

I have some sort of sinus infection/flu

and am slightly delirious and feverish,

so we're going to keep things short today.

But hey, slightly delirious and feverish

should make things more interesting, right?

Let's play five words.

Photo booth jammed.

Money back?

Wolves on the brain,

literally.

Wrist-to-hand ratio: creepy.

No open-seas shenanigans?

Lame.

Did fashion week strike again?

Books 656-660

Greetings!

(We're so formal and polite around here.)

Hey, guess what? 

It's Friday.

That's pretty great.

Also, guess what else?

After almost no snow this past winter, it's actually snowed... but not much.

I predict three days before Boston goes back to Spring weather.

Even so, a Friday looking all winter-y is also pretty great.

Also, also guess what else?

It's Friday and I'm writing mid-term essays.

That's... 

Well, let's just say I need a nonsense break.

Let's write some haikus.

Sure, the art was fine,

but an exhibit open

without wine? Not cool.

(Note: This book is titled:

The Life, History, and Magic of the Cat.

Just thought you'd like to know that.)

Chameleon cat he

was not, and that angered him.

Claws, static, revenge.

This is just an extra page from inside the book for my mum to see:

The umbrella was

really a lamp shade, but no

one dared point it out.

Vicious bunny tames

carrot; vegan magician

fears for life. Ta-da.

Forest fashion week

conflicting motifs battle

for rodent shoppers.

The end.

Now back to the grind.

Books 651-655

So, October didn't really happen there. 

And then November didn't really happen, either.

And December, 

let's not even get into December.

Nothing happened.

Well, things happened. 

But they didn't happen happen

cause we didn't look at any books. 

That's really sad when you think about it. 

And then, worst of all,

nothing happened yesterday.

What was so important about yesterday?

Yesterday was the two-year anniversary of 

Books On My Parents' Shelves.

To borrow a term from the cactus garden, 

it was the Books blogday.

You know what, though?

It's okay.

We can make up for lost time

and celebrate 

with a new game.

(This is where you all cheer exuberantly with happiness.)

(No, really.

I'm serious.

Cheer.)

(Okay, fine. 

Don't cheer then.)

Anyway, our new game is called

"First Sentence."

Like all of our games, 

the title is pretty self-evident. 

Which is a good thing,

especially since I don't think I'd remember more complicated titles.

But, as most of you know,

the first sentence of a book can decide it's fate.

A bad first sentence,

and editors and agents won't go on to read the rest of the book. 

Readers won't check the book out of the library.

Authors get disowned by their families 

and are forced to live out the rest of their days

in Writer Coal Mines, 

where they are forced to spout famous literary quotes 

while mining the internet for new words to add to the Oxford Dictionary

in an attempt to atone for their crimes.

Many die a horrible death from the Hashtag Plague.

Okay, 

so that might be a bit of a stretch. 

But bad first sentences still really suck. 

So, in celebration of 

Books on My Parents' Shelves

second blogday,

I've come up with some first sentences of my own,

based entirely off of the cover images.

 

They had always known secret dangers lurked behind the sunflowers,

but there, on that first bright spring morning,

Agnes knew the legends were true.

Readers, be warned:

This is not a tale for the faint of heart, the slowest of growers, or the zoophobic;

this adventure we are about to embark upon 

is only for those with the strongest of stomachs.

His namesake had always claimed

"It wasn't easy being being green,"

but the truth was it was.

It was so very easy.

(Okay, so that one was two sentences. 

I failed at the game, but it was worth it.

So very worth it.)

It was the eve of the apocalypse, 

but no one really seemed to mind —

after all, the sun was shining

and the underground bunker was almost complete.

Grandfather knew it was wrong to raise the wolf as a boy,

but somehow, despite all his best efforts,

he just couldn't find the nerve to tell the lupine the truth;

it was a secret he knew he would take to his grave.

And now I'm off to the coal mines.

Happy belated blogday!