BookJumper

Agreed. Guess that you, too, are a big fan of Mr. Umberto Eco and his 40-line sentences the 20 middle of which are in unfootnoted Latin, then !

Oh gawd, no. Sounds too much like university coursework to me; besides, thanks to university instruction I already hyperanalyse fiction books to the point that they take me months to read... if I stopped to take notes as well, I'd be doomed. I did try to keep an in progress dictionary once, jotting down words I didn't know, since not knowing words is one of my main causes for stalling. Alas, instead of helping this made things worse - I found myself dwelling on the unknown words even more, and unable to ignore them more than ever. As for interesting and insightful quotes, so as not to interrupt my so-called flow I am of the "look for them again after I've finished the book" persuasion, which of course never works, but there you go.

Awww may one ask his name and what he writes about? I am intrigued now... Chrissy, really, shame on you for doubting the boy's purity of spirit !

The Great and Secret Show: The First Book of the Art by Clive Barker.

Granted, but you'll never be able to revert to the pleasures of slow, easy reading when it suits you. I wish I could find a pantsuit that fit.

Thank you I suppose that in retrospect, it was a rather worrying poem. The ending (I translate very roughly and from memory) went something like this: '... the angels of hell will descend, Descend upon my defenseless body To carry me away on the funereal veil of death. Farewell, oh comrades, you will no longer see, With the dismay of my derelict soul, My wandering body.' - BookJumper, aged 8 Ahem .

I think you might have moved my on-topic post to ii's thread as well !

Five random facts about I, me, mine: 1. I've been dyeing my hair since I was 13 because I absolutely hate my natural colour, i.e. mousey grey-brown. In the past 11 years I've had my hair every hue under the sun, from bright pink (my favourite by far) to electric blue (not so good, it tinged the walls); the only one I've ever avoided is green, as it wouldn't have suited my complexion or gone with anything in my wardrobe. Now, however, I'm letting the remnants of it all grow out, hence the current patchwork look: it's part of my ever-so-enlightened mission to accept myself. Then I can go back and die my hair for the right reasons (i.e. it looks cool as opposed to I look terrible au naturelle). 2. After 20 years of tomboyness, UK higher education sparked the still ongoing Princess Phase I completely failed to have at 3 years old. When a few years ago my mum first visited my student digs and uncovered pink fluffy pillows and fairy-lights, her exact words were, "What have you done with my daughter?" 3. At the age of 8, I wrote my first metaphysical poem re: death and hell. Proud of my use of big words and themes, I showed it to my teacher; terrified calls to my parents ensued. 4. When I was 18, I very nearly did not win my high school's poetry competition because my use of language, rhyme and rhetoric convinced the panel that I must have plagiarised. A testimony to the effect that a. I would never steal another's work and b. I was indeed talented had to be obtained from my English professor to placate their doubts. 5. One of my many phobias includes drowning, to the point that I don't snorkel, swim with my head underwater or even want running water on my face when I have a shower.

I've got mixed feelings about this one. On the one hand, I love Maguire's writing (I bought this hot on the heels of Wicked and Son of a Witch, which I loved and fully intend to purchase from the States in snazzy leather editions as soon as the wallet allows), and I found Confessions for the most part almost as challenging, moving and important as I had those earlier offerings. However, I did not like the ending at all. In the Wicked series, things are spiced up a little, but always for a good character-related reason and allowing for the development of important intrapersonal feelings . In Confessions, I found - it was unexplained and unnecessary. It ruined the whole book for me, which is a shame as some bits (particularly the Epilogue... I didn't see that one coming) were really quite brilliant.

Agreed 100%, BigWords. I've always believed the same (which is why Kenneth Branagh's Mary Shelley's [!!!] Frankenstein, with its unsympathetic, inhuman, illitterate Monster didn't sit down well with me... my Creature reads Paradise Lost), and passionately argued the case in one of my most spirited BA essays .

Sacrilege!! Blasphemous boy... !

This is quite possibly the longest shot ever, but here it goes. I'd love to identify a marvellous children's book that I stupidly gave away when I was having one of those stroppy teenage clear-outs. All I can remember, and it is not much, is as follows: - at least in Italy, the book was a big orange hardcover, with many illustrations. At least two inches thick, as I recall - I'm not sure when it was set but there was something cutely old-fashioned about the children's attire in the pictures, like bonnets and flowing dresses for the little girls - the plot was quirky yet environmental, it might have had something to do with the children trying to set up an animal sanctuary of some sort ... halp?

New books added so please have a browse note: they're all books which I consider to have minor defects, do ask for more info on a specific volume. Further note: as the whole point is that I won't read books that aren't in good shape, I'm quite happy to swap at a 2-4-1 ratio provided the 1 book is in good condition.

I was going to take pictures to upload to the Show Your Bookshelf thread, so you will gaze upon my collection soon (the fact that I refuse to show it off until its arrangement pleases me 100% should in itself be vividly descriptive ). Although, my Beatles books are on the bottom shelf so the bed hides them from view - I'll have to photograph them separately; and in any case, 80% of my Beatles subcollection is at my parents' house in Italy one always seems to be richer when living at home, therefore collectormania gets to thrive

You should have done, I would have ! That is, if I didn't faint first. The sight of all those mangled books... *gasps for air* some people just have no respect .

It's a matter of taste, I suppose - the floweriness of Stoker's writing was one of the highlights as far as I was concerned !

I've just had a further ponder, and considered the following: the previous OH shared my love of reading as well as of other purportedly soul-connecting check-list items, yet he was bad. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't like for OH to read that tiny bit more for his own amusement, also I would never brook disapproval of my own reading habits; but, that said, I do consider diversity in such matters a plus.

I'm exactly the same on BookMooch. We are righteous people, you and me, and wouldn't dream of bestowing something that doesn't meet our standards to the blissfully unaware. Now, if only everyone else was as righteous as we are... . Yay do I, like, get a crown and everything?!

Please, please, please don't let anyone make you even consider the thought that you may be wasting your time when you read. How can something which is at once mind-broadening, vocabulary-enhancing, sensibility-deepening, tolerance-teaching, imagination-stretching etc. be a waste of time ? Me, I'll be taking a sheaf out of my ma's book and teaching my future kids that reading is the best thing they could do with their time. This actually applies to 2/3rds of my own family even though we're all bookish types - my dad opines I should learn the meaning of the Latin word brevitas (i.e. concision, to-the-pointedness) while my older sister, and I quote, loves my style but hates my plots ! Come here, you kindred spirit ! As for mine own OH, he wasn't brought up a reader, which is a shame as he has a marvellous imagination. He doesn't mind me reading books and endorses the fact that I write them; however he will openly mock the time and effort I spend arranging volumes, ranting and raving about condition, etc.

Once more, it depends. I would not buy a book inscribed 'John Smith, 1990' (unless by John Smith we mean John Keats or past master of equal value), however I would buy a book dedicated by a lover to another, by a parent to a child, etc. It's needless defacement vs. history.

I'm quite possibly the most OCD person on this forum. Let me illustrate my case. Buying second-hand dismays me, as used stores seem to: never dust their shelves as a matter of policy, not consider pencilled pricing a defacement of volumes and value books far above the state they're in. Also, sellers / swappers on sites such as Amazon and BookMooch tend to be over-generous in their descriptions, leading to disappointment, anger and loss of faith in the goodness of the world on my part. I'll only lend books to pretty much two people: the mum that taught me everything I know about obsessive bookishness (although, after a recent comparison of our shelving methods, we have established that I've surpassed her) because she reads books in one night and returns them the following morning, and one lone friend of mine from back home. If OH so much as picks up a book from my shelves after dinner without washing his hands, I yelp; if absent-mindedly I do the same, I'll spend days pondering the invisible marks which are all too visible in my mind's eye. Similarly, when too good a bargain forces me to compromise on condition (as when a few days ago I bought three books for

That might be a good idea anyone else coming? If so, we should convene. BCF: Pratchettian division FTW!

I have just researched Alphabet of Thorn and man, DO WANT! Thank you Libri - that's exactly the kind of book I was hoping to discover via this thread. @ Vanwa - the works of Zafon are already on my wishlist; I am waiting until I can afford the pretty edition of The Shadow of the Wind (the prequel to The Angel's Game, I believe, so you might want to put that on your own list if it's not there already).

May I be polemical and say, it depends? I am the first to loathe jumpers-on-wagons; however, one must sort them from the people with something to say, who are indeed out there. Think of it biographically. As a Beatles fan, I have read with interest books such as A Cellarful of Noise by Brian Epstein, while I have never felt the need to peruse The Man Who Gave the Beatles Away by Allan "guitar groups are on their way out" Williams. I am interested in the reflections of the man who stubbornly believed in the boys when they were still playing the sweaty interior of the Cavern Club; I coudn't care less about the musings of the Decca exec who's carved himself a cushy living out of failing to offer them a record deal. As much of a living can be made by standing on the shoulders of classic authors; and here too, one can draw a distinction between persons of talent who may put pen to paper for all sorts of good reasons, and the band-wagon jumpers-on we mentioned earlier. After all, Shakespeare's plots were more often than not a rehash of olden tales - you wouldn't call him a band-wagon jumper-on, would you?