Corissa Morales

This book really missed the mark for me. I was very excited to get my hands on it and felt like it had great promise to make it to my “favorites” list. The thought of a Gothic, modern romantic tragedy really attracted me despite the inherent heavy religious emphasis.  The format was well done (switching from the heroine’s historic story telling to main character’s modern narration) but that is where the success ended.  The text was not nearly as dramatic as I had hoped for given my normal swooning feeling for the historic German-Gothic emphasis. I also think it is important to note that the narrator was far too narcissistic; to the point of deemphasizing the connection between two people in a love story. One comical highlight, in my opinion, is the numerous references made the narrator’s penis; it felt like almost obligatory on the part of the author – a man writing a love story – how could the emphasis not be on his penis, or in the case the lack of.

In all I wouldn’t tell others to not read this book, but I would tell them to not get their hopes up. The format was well done and the historical context is interesting and likely accurate to some degree. The story lacks depth and felt a bit anti climatic for me, but it worked as a fast read to get me through to the next novel.

I’ve been having a major craving for a man-worthy meatball sub. I came across a recipe for vegetarian meatballs based on shredded cheese and breadcrumbs – naturally I made some adjustments.

4 eggs, slightly beaten
1 envelope Lipton soup mix
2 c. grated cheddar cheese
3/4 c. whole walnuts, blended in food processor
1/4 c. flaxseed meal
1 c. Ener-G gluten free breadcrumbs
3 TBS Italian spices

1. Combine ingredients in order, mixing thoroughly.
2. Chill for 30 minutes.
3. Bake on lightly greased cookie sheet for 20 minutes at 400°.
4. Place in deep baking dish, cover with sauce and bake at 350° for at least 45 minutes.

The resulting meatballs were a bit too salty (even for this salt addicted fiend) and, naturally, a bit spongy. I’m pretty sure that the salt was a result of that horrifically unnatural “soup-mix” ingredient – and I assure you I felt terribly guilty using it. I think next time my recipe will include TVP for “bulk” to help with the sponginess and my own blend of secret sauces and spices to eliminate the need for the onion soup mix.

Verdict: craving killed; recipe needs tweaking

Yarn: 1 skein Colinette’s Prism in “Popsicle”
Needles: Size 11
18 sts, 1 x 1 rib, all rows

This yarn is soft wool and cotton blend in a color that’s sure to please my 11 year old cousin. I attached 4 strands of tassels at each and decided it wasn’t enough – so I used extra yarn to tie the tassels tight together in a bunched end.

Yarn: 1 1/2 skeins Bernat Black Lites in “Crazy Baby”
Needle: Hook N
Ch8; *sc8, sc8, dc8*; sc8
At ends: dc4; dc2; dc1

I added pom-poms to the ends. This acrylic yarn is super soft and made the pom-poms nearly impossible. They “slid” off several times forcing me to relent and eventually sew them on with needle and thread. I’m sure my very energetic 8 year old cousin will get them to “fall” off too.

This memoir dives into the life of a young woman who stands in the shadow of her mother, a woman seasoned in the arts of sex and lying. When faced with a late night phone call and her mother’s possible death the author is forced to make the difficult decision of whether or not to put aside all of the bad memories and join her mother at her bedside, again.

The outwardly sexual nature of this book made me very uncomfortable at the deepest level. It was refreshing to read the work of a female author who is very comfortable and proud of her sexual being; and not have to buy that book in a special section of the store. My deep seated discomfort arose from the source of her sexual energy; confusing that delicate balance between lust and love and an ill-placed desire for closeness through the use of your body.

In all I found this to be a very quick read and despite some of its themes hitting a bit too close to home I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Master’s Stuart: A Life Backwards is the story of Stuart Shorter, a homeless British junkie’s life, backwards. Through interviews with Stuart and his remaining family, friends and social workers Masters constructs the tragic, yet at times comical, life of Stuart. He begins at the end and works his way back through dark years of “rough sleeping” and chronic alcohol and drug abuse.

I was drawn to this biography for my usual reason – an insatiable need to understand people better through their suffering and this book delivered. Master does a wonderful job of weaving his own experiences with his subject into the text to give the reader a complete view of Stuart. Masters, at times, finds himself wholly frustrated with his subject and ready to give up the project altogether. I found the story to be both heart-wrenching and insightful. I was amazed to see how deeply the lives of others could be affected by what appears to be a homeless, drug addicted, and often times, violent man. Masters works hard to uncover the underground truth of the London homeless scene and works even harder to get at the root of Stuart’s being (very often to the chagrin of Stuart himself).

As is usually par for the course with my reading habits I had moments of frustration with the text. These moment were a result of the author being British; there were times when I struggled with the language and minor nuances of our differing dialects. I would certainly recommend this biography to other readers though. While Stuart’s life is tragic the book is well written and at times lighthearted without undermining the severity of his suffering. In the end I came away with a deeper understanding of how our inner selves can and do affect those around us.

I’ve always been fascinated and intrigued by “conditions” of the mind. Naturally I was very excited to give this book a try, but it was not what I expected, at all. That is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the book at all, I certainly did.  Look Me in the Eye is the memoir of John Elder Robison, a man with, until recently, undiagnosed Asperger’s Syndrome. The story takes the reader through his rough, often lonely, childhood years up through adulthood and diagnosis. Initially, it was dispiriting to read about Robison’s numerous attempts and failures at understanding normal social interactions and creating lasting friendships. Often times I found myself uncomfortable with his descriptions of attempts at making friends, a discomfort that arose from knowing that another attempt would fail.

By midstory I found myself frustrated with the text and frankly, bored.  Robison writes in great detail (several chapters worth and several references back in future chapters) about his successful career with acoustics, electronics and circuits. The enthusiasm with which he writes on these topics is nothing but honest and admirable, but to the topic-novice reader (or at least in my opinion) not enthralling. It wasn’t until I had reached the end of the book and gave it some thought that I realized that I should have expected my perceived “stall” in the story. When verbally expressing my frustration it occurred to me – why wouldn’t someone with Asperger’s logical, crisp thinking write about that which they love and know to great length?

In all, my thirst for scientific and psychological data wasn’t quenched but certainly my innate desire for anthropological voyeurism certainly was. I did enjoy the overall book and would certainly recommend it to others with the caution that it may get sluggish midway – just stick it out.