Inside of a Dog by Alexandra Horowitz.

"Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."
-Groucho Marx.


This book was pretty good, but not for the reasons you'd expect. I'm not gonna say I didn't learn some stuff. But what I really enjoyed was the style. This is a woman who is passionate about her love of animals.

She narrated chapters based on the perspective of her personal dog. (Personal dog... I like the way that sounds. I'm leaving it. Just sayin'.) It gets pretty technical at times and

  she references  “anyone who wants to understand the life of an animal must begin by considering what he called their umwelt . . . : their subjective or ‘self-world.’ ”

I also really liked how she explained the technical differences between the actual perception of a human and a dog by both fairly straightforward scientifically based comparison and more poetic comparisons, like the experience of a rose to a human versus the experience of a rose to a dog. There are obviously other instances, such as the difference between our style vision and theirs, but you know. I'm not gonna go on all night.


She also refuses to accept the Cesar Milan Dog Whisperer style school of "accepted" knowledge that dogs are pack animals and therefore the way to gain their respect is to become the Alpha of all Alphas. She points out that being domesticated has separated dogs from their more wild bretheren, such as wolves, and creates unites that are more cooperative and family-like than constant competition and vying for top spot.


There were times when she tried too hard not to be overly scientific and other times where I really loved the off the wall details she threw in.


Either way. Pretty good book.

On Being Less Than Ideal As A Blogger.

I know, I know. I'm like everyone else. I start this blog, I'm really enthusiastic about it and I think, goddamn. I'm awesome. I'm gonna write every day! I'm going to make a million entries! I'm going to be a motherfucking blog ROCKSTAR.

But then I do not have the internet at my house and it's difficult to find time to go someplace public and just sit and type for several hours. (shameless plug: this post is sponsored by the delightful Chat Room Pub in Fort Worth, TX! Thanks, Chat Room. I love you.)

I also am in my midtwenties and therefore my life is either a series of projects or obstacles that require much more energy than anyone in any other age group would reasonably place towards said projects and obstacles. So. There comes in the emotional availability.

So. I'll not say I'm sorry, because when I'm not writing these blogs, I'm out loving people, rescuing animals, having drinks with my buddies, crying my eyes out over guys who may or may not matter in years, recruiting people to my recently re-formed book club and generally having the time of my life. And the best part is, like writing these book blogs, I know this is just part of something so huge and special that I am ridiculously grateful to experience.

I started this blog, honestly, to get over a break up. And it has taken me places I would not have expected. I wish I kept up better. I wish I actually could keep track of every single book I read. But I love what I've done. I've loved the books I've read, I've loved having something to keep focused on.

So I won't apologise for not being great at keeping up with every damn reaction. I'm not sorry that I don't always remember exactly what I wanted to say because I've read too many other books since then and the emotions aren't fresh. I guess this is about as realistic of a picture as you're gonna get for something that is by nature, a product you're creating for others' consumption.

I'm gonna shut up now. I'm getting a little "livejournal" on ya'll. But still. Know that I'm happy. And books are awesome.

The Mercy Thompson Series by Patricia Briggs.

The Mercy Thompson books are an urban fantasy series set in Washington State, specifically in the Tri Cities area of Washington state. Since this series is five books long and growing, I'm not going to do a series of entries dedicated to each book. I'll hit on some minor plot points here and described the characters.
It was a little weird for me to start reading this... I'm usually not a fan of "This Kind" of book. I don't read Laurell K. Hamilton (though I have in the past) and I haven't even finished the Sookie Stackhouse books of TrueBlood fame. I don't like chick lit or supernatural romance or lots of gore and sex. I actually rarely read anything that describes much sex at all, if you're gonna be picky. But this series is different. I can relate to the characters more and I really like the way the first couple are written. I've had issues with the second to last book, Bone Crossed, because it struck me as a the most chick lit-y of the series, but Silver Borne made up for it, in my eyes. This series isn't about showing off how well-versed in literature I am or anything but just enjoying a well-crafted storyline and characters you can really get care about, as much as you can for fictional characters. And for me... that's a lot. The names of the books in order are:
Moon Called
Blood Bound
Iron Kissed
Bone Crossed
Silver Borne

Mercedes Thompson, known as Mercy, went to college to study history and literature. Natrually, she's now a Volkswagon mechanic with her own shop. She's sarcastic, kind, fair, logical, open-minded, snarky, poised, responsible and a score of other adjectives that sound like lip service when you make a list like this. She's also a Native American shapeshifter, meaning she can turn into a coyote at will. This kind of shapeshifter is known as a Walker, and differs from werewolves in several important ways: her transformation is painless, voluntary and is not affected by the moon's cycle. She's also presumably not sterile, which is how she catches the eye of Samuel, one of the sons of  Bran, the leader of the North American werewolves. Mercy was raised by werewolves when her mother, who gave birth at the age of sixteen, came home to find a coyote pup in her daughter's crib. Bran agreed to take in her and raise her, giving her protection under the name of The Marrok, which is his title as leader. It's taken from the name of one of King Arthur's knights who was apparently a werewolf. As of the first novel, the werewolves have not yet come forward and revealed their existence although it isn't too far into the series before they feel the need to take that step, as the Fae did before them.

You see, in Mercy's world, the supernatural is fairly commonplace, even if it's not widely accepted. The Fae population of the world came out of hiding sometime in the not-so-distant past, a decision made by the Gray Lords (a sort of Fae ruling class). The term fae is a broad one used to describe a variety of pleasant and unpleasant supernatural creatures of myth, legend and fairy tale that are European in origin--everything from selkies, brownies and actual fairies to ogres, child-eating monsters and  other uncomfortably powerful creatures. It was deemed that the Time of Hiding was at an end when it appeared that the science of DNA and forensics threatened to reveal the supernatural creatures in hiding, whether they wanted to be revealed or not. Mercy actually purchased her garage from Ziebold Adelbertsmiter, known as Zee, a kind of fae known as a metalzauber or metalsmith because he knew that it would be impossible to continue running it once he was revealed to be fae. He's also fairly famous in the myth sense and one of the few fae that can stand iron.
 Most of the fae were driven from Europe by a combination of newly forged iron and in the wake of Christianity. They moved to the new world to escape, slaughtered a whole host of indigenous supernatural creatures on this continent and then iron and Christianity followed them over here anyway.

Since purchasing the garage, Mercy fixes a number of cars free of charge for the local vampire seethe, as she can't afford to pay them the protection fees they usually receive. It's sort of like paying the mob, because what they protect you from is mostly themselves; incidently, the vampires also haven't come out of hiding... there's really no way to put a positive spin on the fact that they drink human blood. Her contact within in the seethe is Stefan, a very pleasant, honorable, chivalrious vampire who almost painted his van black because of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He ended up painting it to match The Mystery Machine because "even the Slayer is no match for Scooby-Doo." He reports directly to the Mistress of the Seethe, Marsilia, who has it in for Mercy for a variety of reasons. (SPOILER ALERT: the vampires are a big part of the reason Mercy is one of or possibly the only remaining Walker left in the United States.)

At the start of the story, Mercy was living a quiet unassuming life, mostly free of interaction with werewolves and any fae or creature who would cause her trouble until a very young werewolf named Mac showed up, ignorant of how to live as a wolf, half starved with a sad story that helped reveal a lot of corruption across the United States. Pack law is naturally brutal and not something to be ignored, so Mercy took it upon herself to help Mac, as her closest neighbor is the local pack Alpha, Adam Hauptman. After Mac is murdered and left dead on her porch, Mercy ends up reconnecting with Bran, Samuel and forming closer bonds with Warren, the only gay werewolf in Adam's pack, his boyfriend Kyle and Jessie, Adam's daughter. Meaning only to help Mac, Mercy ends up becoming more and more involved in the magic, rules and dangers of the world of the Fae, wolves and vampires. As of the fifth book, it's pretty much fair game as to who wants her dead the most.  She's killed or caused the death of both wolves and vampires, been raped, kidnapped, learned too much about the Fae, and eventually even becomes part of the werewolf pack. Like the coyote with the trickster spirit and too much bravado for such a little body, Mercy just can't seem to stay out of trouble.

Like I said, especially during Bone Crossed, the romantic aspect of this got to be a little too much for me. I like the actiony parts of the story much more than I like any of the parts concerning her attraction to Adam. It doesn't ever get explicit or explore the boundaries of sexuality or really even get beyond just general quasi romantic and intensity. It's never overtly Anita Blake-esque. I just don't really much care for mush or sex in my science fiction. It also is awesome but sucky at the same time that Patricia Briggs has gained such notoriety. This guarantees more books, but also means her books now come out in hardcover first, which equals 'spensive. I also fear the possiblity of a Mercy Thompson movie... which would be absolutely awful unless handled perfectly. Yeah. Like THAT happens.

Tell Me Where It Hurts by Nick Trout

This is one day in the life of a UK trained veternarian, Nick Trout.
It begins with an overnight emergency surgery, with a dog whose stomach needs immediate surgical attention. In the midst of his search for a morning cup of coffee, he sees patients, recounts the story of how he became a vet in the first place, recalls various memorable stories, including some of the most bizarre and several of the best pet owners he's encountered.

He talks about the difficulty in giving patients the diagnosis of obesity in their pets, the lengths 'pet parents' will go to preserve the life of a beloved animal. Where do you draw the line in animal care? What's the proper ratio of quality versus quantity?

Something that I found interesting was the statistics on the suicide rates of vets in relation to the practice of euthanising animals. In comparison to other fields of medicine, vets have the highest suicide rates. Is it because they put animals to sleep? They take the life of any number of pets during their tenure as doctors. Isn't there bound to be an effect? Especially given that anyone who would aspire and take all the years of study necessary to become an animal doctor has to feel a very deep and strong  level of connection with animals.

Let The Right One In MOVIE STYLE!

Ok, I watched the movie again... and I recall now several differences:

There is no mention of Hakan (Eli's guardian) coming back as a vampire, let alone a mindless one who attempts to rape Eli.

Oskar's friend Tommy is left out entirely (which is understandable, especially if you leave out the fact that Hakan isn't around).


The third of the book is greatly condensed, which isn't a bad thing necessarily. They really cover a lot of ground. And honestly, the neatest thing that I wish they could've concluded is that when the vampires become, you know, vampires, their hearts change cell structure. It's as if a tumor grows and takes over the heart. And this tumor is made of BRAIN CELLS. That's right. It's literally a struggle between the dying and abused brain of the person you were before with this new, second brain in your chest, hungry for only blood and survival.

So, ok, I feel good that I didn't leave too much out.

Bless Your Heart, Tramp by Celia Rivenbark.

This is not my first foray into the tart, Southern-fried world of Celia Rivenbark. The first time I ever read her was for her book Stop Dressing Your Six Year Old Like A Skank. And I've never looked back.

Like so many other humor books that get published lately, it's a collection of essays/blogs/articles written by Celia who was formerly a writer for... the NY Times? One of their little family? I'm gonna fact check for a second. Then write my findings here. Instead of just typing out the accurate information and not boring you with this filler. Ok, it was the Morning Star. See! Told you!

But yeah, it's her first book. It's hilarious Southernisms, talking about becoming a mommy at forty, the delightful stereotyping of Southerners on TV, the time her husband tried to make her go for a week without television, and many, many helpful essays on topics from marriage to how to properly measure Southern-style in the kitchen and beyond.


The titles of her books are as follows. If they alone don't convince you she's worth a read, well, then I can't help you. Really. Bless your heart.


Bless Your Heart, Tramp And Other Southern Endearments
We're Just Like You, Only Prettier: Confessions from a Tarnished Southern Belle
Stop Dressing Your Six Year Old Like A Skank: A Slightly Tarnished Southern Belle's Words of Wisdom
Belle Weather: Mostly Sunny With A Chance of Scattered Hissy Fits
You Can't Drink All Day If You Don't Start In The Morning

'Nuff said.



Celia talkin' about Celia.

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman

Fat Charlie Nancy isn't fat. All the stories are Anansi's. Don't talk to spiders, unless it's something you really mean.
Oh, and Neil Gaiman's still incredible.


These are the lessons I take away every single time I read this novel. It's probably my favorite of Gaiman's books--including any of the Sandman series. I know, I know, American Gods is incredible, but this is my favorite. And hey, it's in the same storyline anyway. So, shush, naysayers.

The story is about the two sons of Mr. Nancy, Fat Charlie and Spider. Before his father died, you see, Charles Nancy, nicknamed "Fat Charlie" by his father, didn't know he had a brother. And after he finds out, well, he can't wait to believe he's an only again. And that the world is as logical and boring as he'd led himself to believe, and that magic doesn't really exist.

Turns out Mr. Nancy is really the modern incarnation of Anansi, the West African spider god, the trickster. And he's not lost  a bit of his trickster ways though he's become a somewhat modern man. Fat Charlie was subjected through a variety of embarrassments at the hand of his father as a child. Like the time Mr. Nancy told him that for President's Day, all the kids picked their favorite president and dressed up as them for school that day... so Fat Charlie showed up all decked out in his presidential finery. And he was the only one. Then there was his father's habit of taking him "mermaid watching." There weren't any mermaids. Mr. Nancy was also fond of performing what he referred to as the "miracle of the loaves and fishes."


"He loafs and he fishes and it's a miracle that he makes a living."

But the most embarrassing moment was his manner of death. During a particularly fine round of karaoke, singing directly at a group of sunburned tourists, Mr. Nancy had a heart attack, fell gracefully from the stage and managed to pull the top completely off the blondest tourist.

After Mr. Nancy's death, Fat Charlie is told he's got a brother by his neighbor Callyanne Higgler, (who's in fact responsible for the fact that Fat Charlie and Spider were separated to begin with). And all he has to do to meet him is pass a whisper to a spider. But when Spider shows up, he takes over Fat Charlie's life. He steals his fiancee. He impersonates him at his job and blackmails his boss (who's legitimately up to no good). He even turns the tiny spare bedroom of Fat Charlie's apartment into a window into an alternate space with a hot tub, giant TV and tropical scenery. To get rid of him, Charlie ends up making a deal he never should've made with one the god's from his father's world, who is in league withe his father's oldest enemy. In exchange for her word and a feather, he ends up offering her Anansi's bloodline if she makes his brother go away. Turns out though, Anansi's bloodline includes him. So he has to step up and find out how much he really is his father's son to save the day.



As usual I said a lot without saying much at all. What it wraps up to is this: I love Gaiman's odd humor. I like how overtly British everything is.  I also like that it's one of the first non-Southern books I can remember reading where it's made pretty clear that none of the main characters are white. That's something I missed the first few times I read it, honestly. I don't know HOW, but I did. And I love all the stories about Anansi. I love the way he always ends up getting his, in the end. I love how matter of factly the stories are told. I love the descriptions of Tiger, so dark and bloodthirsty. I also like the casual references to American Gods throughout the narrative. And frankly, any book that has people having to flee in the face of hundreds of homicidal flamingos and then later homicidal penguins is pretty worthwhile right there.

Gaiman always seems to deal with unusual family situations, where it becomes abundantly clear that loving your family in spite of what you may view as their faults is infinitely better than losing them to something that wants to kill and/or eat them... or kill and/or eat you, depending on which you're reading. I like that. I like that his characters are often outsiders who can find a place to belong. And who hasn't felt that hope in their heart when they can't help but think there's no where in the whole wide world where they fit in?