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Because of the amount of reading I do for classes, I usually end up delegating free time reading to fanfic (I've read possibly every due South fic that was written after '05, ask me how!) and when I want an actual paper book I usually default to lightning-fast rereads of the favourites I had back in the days of yore before I found the internet, but I will still occasionally pick up something new. About 80% of the time it's something from the YA section, because young adult fantasy is the genre of my heart. Blame Diane Duane and Dianna Wynne Jones.
Today's book is Libyrinth, which had me from the word go, or more accurately from the books, as they died, merely fell silent. Without giving too much away, I love this book because it's about the importance of books, and of stories and of knowledge; it's about a lot of people with diametrically opposed viewpoints who are nonetheless whole and sympathetic; it's about, and this is probably my favourite part, two girls being competent and saving the world. (And one of them even likes other women! Where has this book been all my life?) I unexpectedly teared up near the end, which is the highest praise I can give a book, because that happens hardly ever. I don't know if anyone else would have the same reaction, but, for me, it is one of those rare books I want to sit with quietly for a while and cherish.
We're finally getting the snow that's downing the entire East Coast, although at the moment I think we still have less than an inch. All the bare tree branches are delicately articulated with new snow, and I am happy.
Today's book is Libyrinth, which had me from the word go, or more accurately from the books, as they died, merely fell silent. Without giving too much away, I love this book because it's about the importance of books, and of stories and of knowledge; it's about a lot of people with diametrically opposed viewpoints who are nonetheless whole and sympathetic; it's about, and this is probably my favourite part, two girls being competent and saving the world. (And one of them even likes other women! Where has this book been all my life?) I unexpectedly teared up near the end, which is the highest praise I can give a book, because that happens hardly ever. I don't know if anyone else would have the same reaction, but, for me, it is one of those rare books I want to sit with quietly for a while and cherish.
We're finally getting the snow that's downing the entire East Coast, although at the moment I think we still have less than an inch. All the bare tree branches are delicately articulated with new snow, and I am happy.
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