Routine maintenance

Life has settled into some semblance of a routine lately, and even though that hasn't necessarily decreased the amount of stress I experience when working on course prep or fitting in the things required to keep the household running smoothly, at least I know when to expect those stresses. For example, Wednesdays are crazy, but I have a chance to breathe and reset on Fridays (and watch way too many episodes of the new season of Daredevil - I definitely took advantage of that dropping on a Friday). Figuring out a routine has also allowed me to make sure things like regular exercise don't fall by the wayside, crowded out by other demands on my time or by the fact that some days I just want to crash.

Routines aren't very exciting, though, and they don't make for great blog posts. I doubt any of you care which days are for which chores, or which evenings are set aside for time with Trevor, or which mornings are ones where I can sleep in. Routines are also a bit mind-numbing - it's easy to settle into them and not think too much about life. And yet there's also beauty in routines, especially if you don't run through them completely on autopilot.

Starting the day with a healthy breakfast and a chapter of a good book helps me find the focus I need to be productive from there on out, and ending the day by reading the Bible helps me put everything in perspective and sleep soundly. Taking the dog for his evening walk is a chance to enjoy some fresh air and connect with Trevor, and making the bed or doing the laundry brings a little bit of order into a chaotic world. Even course prep can be an opportunity to expand my knowledge and understanding, improve my communication skills, and find joy in a job well done, all while appreciating the work of skillful musicians.

Every little part of my daily and weekly routines is a chance to redeem that tiny piece of life, to practice holiness and pursue peace and glorify God. And that transforms my ordinary, everyday routine into something that can be truly beautiful.

Filling my spare moments with books

My reading slowed down quite a bit with the move and the new job, but I'm starting to pick up steam again. In fact, I've taken to carrying a good book around with me most of the time, so I can read if I get to campus early, or when I'm waiting for the doctor, or while my students are taking an exam. Not all books lend themselves to that sort of reading, of course, but many of them do, and I've been taking full advantage of that. I'm not sure that I'll manage to complete all my yearly challenges, but I'm going to do my best to get there. Now I just need to stop rewatching Daredevil...

For those who don't want to read all of the reviews below, my favorite reading experiences from the last three months were my reread of Matilda, and three nonfiction books: Liturgy of the Ordinary, 13 Hours, and The Etymologicon. Who knew nonfiction could provide such great reading? (Okay, lots of people probably knew that, but I'm just starting to realize how good it can be.)

Monthly challenge categories were as follows:

KidLit for Grown-Ups - July: a classic (The Little Prince) - August: a book set during the summer (Eleven Kids, One Summer) - September: a science fiction book (The Rising Force)

Read the World - September: Australasia (The Whale Rider - New Zealand) - October: West Africa (Aya - Côte d'Ivoire)

Keeping It Real - July: DDC 300-399 (13 Hours - DDC 363) - September: DDC 400-499 (The Etymologicon - DDC 422)

I don't generally include picture books, graphic novels, or comic books in these blog posts, as I don't count them toward my reading total for the year. However, if you're interested in my thoughts on anything mentioned in the challenge categories that doesn't appear in the reviews below, let me know, or check out my Goodreads if you're on there.

46. The Lives of Christopher Chant, by Diana Wynne Jones

(Read for the Birth Year challenge.) I liked this book just a little bit more than Charmed Life, partly because Christopher was more interesting than Cat, partly because I liked the Goddess, and partly because Tacroy was a wonderfully conflicted character. The story doesn't take any really unexpected turns, but I enjoyed the travel between worlds and the fairly impressive magic. I also liked the way Christopher's perspective was so clearly a child's view of the world - it added a bit of humor that only adults would really get. 
My rating: 7/10

47. Matilda, by Roald Dahl

(Read for the Read It Again, Sam and Birth Year challenges.) This book was very important to me as a kid. It was funny, and smart, and featured a main character who was brilliant and didn't really fit in, but who was the hero of her story anyway. You can probably see why a story like that appealed to a dorky little kid who was good at school and not much else - it helped me realize that being different wasn't just okay, but actually something special and good. Anyway, I loved this book as a kid, and I still enjoy it every time I reread it, which happens on a fairly frequent basis. There are things that I like less about it now that I'm older (For example, why are there no good adult characters? They're all either dumb, or cruel, or spineless), but I still like the fun twists and turns to the story, and there are definitely bits that I didn't quite get when I was younger that I find funny now. If I were to read it now for the first time, it wouldn't quite be a perfect book, but I'm sticking with that highest rating because of how much this book has meant to me over the years.   My rating: 10/10

48. Light the Dark, edited by Joe Fassler

Since this was a collection of pieces by 46 different writers, I read it over the course of three weeks or so, starting my day with one chapter in the morning, and ending my day with another chapter at night. I really loved some of the pieces in here. I don't know how to describe how they made me feel except to say that they resonated with something deep within me, and made me say, "Yes! That! Exactly that!" when the author put into words something I'd never been quite able to articulate. Which is precisely what I love most in books. Not every piece was like that, of course. Some were just interesting, or good advice, and there were a very few I didn't particularly like, but overall I came away from this book with a sense of awe and beauty. I got it out of the library, but after reading it, I'm definitely intending to add it to my owned books, so I can go back and reread my favorite pieces at will. 
My rating: 8/10

Have I mentioned today how lucky I am?

My life right now is crazy. And my life right now is wonderful. There are so many things I'm grateful for, and I thought I'd share some of them.

First of all, top of the list, I'm thankful for an awesome husband. I'm pretty sure Trevor's life is even crazier than mine at the moment, but he's been an incredible encouragement as I've tackled my new job. He's been patient with me when I'm stressed (which is a lot of the time), and his confidence in my abilities was pivotal in my decision to take the job in the first place. I think I can honestly say that without him, I wouldn't have had the courage to take this risk.

And speaking of my job, I'm also very grateful for my dad. He's the one who told me about the job in the first place, and kept pushing me to consider it even though it was outside my area of expertise. Without him, I definitely wouldn't have this job. He also patiently answered a million questions about the details of setting up and running a course, letting me take advantage of his years of experience and relieving a small part of the inevitable stress.

Because let's face it - prepping and teaching a course is crazy. Listening to musicals and movie soundtracks is great for stress management, though, and one of the other things I'm oh-so thankful for. I've had a select few on repeat since I landed the job, and they've made lecture prep, grading, and long drives so much better. The Last Five Years, The Fellowship of the Ring, and Come From Away have been instrumental in keeping me sane this past month, even if I might occasionally lose my voice in the car on the way home after lecturing for over an hour and then singing along at the top of my lungs for another hour.

My other form of stress management, and the next thing I'm very grateful for right now, is binging good TV shows. I started a rewatch of Bones on the weekend I found out about the job, and survived the insanity of the next month by escaping to the Jeffersonian to solve murders every evening before bed. There's something about coming back to old seasons of a favorite show that's wonderful for making stress disappear, and I will freely admit to grinning like an idiot many, many times at the antics of these characters I love. I am a hopeless romantic, and anyone who has ever watched Bones will understand perfectly why I love it so much.

And last, but definitely not least, I'm incredibly thankful for a job that I love, even with all the stress that comes with being a first-time professor. I have a wonderful class of students, and after four weeks, I'm no longer freaking out every time I stand up to lecture. In fact, the opposite happened this past Thursday - I went into class feeling massively stressed out, but once I got rolling I felt much better, and my students were engaging with the material, and I came away from class feeling great! So there's that. I honestly couldn't ask for a better opportunity than this at this point in my life, and I'm so glad it came my way.

I just expected it ten years later...

If you've ever heard the song Moving Too Fast from the musical The Last Five Years, that's basically what my life has felt like for the past five weeks. It's been one crazy ride, that's for certain.

5 weeks ago: We move to Pittsburgh and buy our first house. Between the drive from Dayton to my parents' house to Pittsburgh then back to my parents' place then down to Pittsburgh again, the loading and unloading of the moving truck, and the packing and unpacking of boxes, my one foot gets so inflamed I can barely walk for a couple days. And did I mention Trevor goes back to Dayton for several days pretty much as soon as we're officially moved in?

4 weeks ago: Yan and Hannah visit for the weekend. We dig up a bunch of bushes, check out the local mini-golf course (adding Evan to our number), and have an epic game of Pirate Fluxx (after adding Holly as well). Having folks around is a lot of fun, but also exhausting. And did I mention our house still has towering stacks of boxes in almost every room?

3 weeks ago: Trevor's parents come to stay for a few days. We're still living out of boxes but the piles have decreased to the point where the guest room is navigable at least. We picnic at Schenley Park, dodge torrential downpours, take a ducky tour of the city, and save the world from paradoxes in Chrononauts. In the middle of that, Dad calls to tell me about a part-time position at Geneva teaching engineering economics for the fall semester. After our guests leave, Trevor and I have a long talk, I do a bunch of praying for wisdom, put together a resume, and apply for the job. And did I mention this course starts in just under two weeks?

2 weeks ago: I have my phone interview with the Vice President of Academic Affairs at Geneva, and I'm officially accepted for the position. I spend the next week filling out a ridiculous amount of hiring paperwork, reteaching myself economics from textbooks generously provided to me by my dad, and generally trying to make sure I'll be able to stay ahead of the students I'm going to be teaching. And did I mention I haven't taken any sort of economics course in ten years?

1 week ago: After Geneva's HR department processes all that paperwork, I drive up to campus to pick up a copy of the required textbook and a flash drive with materials for the course. With remarkable focus for me, I plow through course materials, adapt the syllabus for this semester, and put together my first lecture. Plus, I head out to shop for clothes, because it turns out I own nothing that's appropriate professional attire. I end up loving this part, because it makes me feel like I'm finally a real adult. However, on the first day of classes, I still don't have a Geneva email or access to my course online. Gotta love bureaucratic inefficiency. And did I mention Trevor starts his classes at Pitt the same week I start at Geneva?

0 weeks ago (AKA today AKA my 30th birthday): I successfully survive my first week of teaching! Tuesday's class is rough, but Thursday's is much better, even though the AC in Rapp isn't working and the classroom is ridiculously warm and we're all sweating and dying. And just like that the first week of the course has flown past, and I keep rolling on!

Another move, another life lesson

Moving is very stressful. And yet, when you have friends and family helping you load and unload the truck, parts of it become almost fun. It definitely makes the new house feel more like a home when you've already spent time there hanging out with people you love, working and laughing together.

I have to admit, I was not looking forward to this move, even up to the moment when I drove away from Dayton. There were so many positive things about my time in Ohio that I really didn't want to leave behind, and even though I knew objectively that there were also going to be positive things about moving to Pittsburgh, it was hard to feel that. After all, we'd just spent an evening hauling boxes with our awesome small group, followed by one last walk around our quiet little neighborhood. It was easier in that moment to connect with what I was losing than what I was gaining, which I think is true in lots of situations, and not just when it comes to moves.

Anyway, I was in desperate need of a reminder that we were moving from something good to something also good, which showed up on my doorstep in the form of a bunch of my favorite people. I know the next few months will still be hard, as we look for a church and settle in to the neighborhood and work on building new friendships from the ground up. That being said, it was lovely to start things out with a renewed appreciation of what's wonderfully unique about this particular move for me: being close to so many people who've been an important part of my life over the years.

Yes, moving is still stressful. But when you spend your first afternoon in your new home eating lunch on your porch with your mother, that's a special thing. And it's something to hold on to as I hit the inevitable rough patches of the months ahead.

Maybe not the most impressive porch view, but it's home
for the next few years, and that's what counts.
  

Don't Panic: A reading update

Since someone who shall remained unnamed complained that my blog posts are too long for them to read the whole thing, here's a quick summary: I read a bunch of books. Some of them were good, some not so much. If you only read one book off this list, make it either Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah, or Outlaw Platoon, by Sean Parnell, which were both excellent. And for the love of all that's good in this world, do not waste your time on The Alchemist; run far, far away if anyone ever recommends it to you.

Okay, now for the longer version...

The KidLit challenge for May was any nonfiction book, which fit nicely with my goal of reading more nonfiction this year. The challenge for June was a bit more complicated, and involved reading a children's book you'd never read that was written by an author whose other books you loved. I ended up with books by Roald Dahl, Shel Silverstein, and Scott O'Dell, who all wrote at least one book that I loved as a kid.

This post also includes the second of May's Keeping It Real books (on asteroids, from the 500s in the Dewey Decimal system), and both of June's books (the DDC was 900-999, and my list of books I wanted to read was at least ten times as long as the number I could reasonably get through in a month). I ended up returning a lot of unread books to the library from both May and June's KIR challenges, but I added them all to my TBR list so I can come back to them later.

And because five reading challenges wasn't enough for me, I also joined a Read the World challenge on Habitica. Reading my way around the world has been something I've wanted to do for a while now, and I'm finally starting to buckle down and actually do it. For this challenge, the rules are pretty loose - any book set in, written about, or by an author from the countries on the monthly list counts - but for my own purposes, the book has to be written by an author from a specified country in order to count. May's challenge was a book from an African country, and June's challenge was a book from any of the BRICS countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa). I ended up reading books from South Africa (for May) and Brazil and India (for June), so I've crossed three more countries off my list.

31. Turning Points, by Mark A. Noll

(Read for the Mount TBR challenge.) The adult Sunday School class at our church worked through this book back in the fall, as part of a celebration of the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation. I bought the book, then promptly had back-to-back colds and missed almost all the classes, so I decided to work my way through it this year. It was a good overview of some of the major developments in the history of Christianity (and not just Reformed Protestant Christianity), and I appreciated how readable it was on the whole, even if it was a little dry at times. I do wish there'd been more about the history of Christianity outside of the Western world, but for a quick survey of the history of the church, it was quite decent.   My rating: 7/10

32. Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah

(Read for the Read the World challenge.) A few thoughts... First, I realized just how little I know about South Africa in general, and about apartheid specifically. Second, I loved the writing style - Trevor Noah's blend of humor and seriousness and the manner in which he relates events worked perfectly for me. Third, I really want to listen to the audiobook version, now that I've read the book and thus won't be confused when I lose bits and pieces of the story since processing audio is not my forte.   My rating: 9/10

33. Outlaw Platoon, by Sean Parnell

(Read for the Mount TBR challenge.) There are books where you finish and you're not really sure how you're supposed to condense your thoughts and reactions into coherent sentences. This was one of those, so I'm just going to say this: go read it yourself; you won't regret it. It was both hard to read and hard to put down, and it's well worth your time. Hands down the best book of its kind that I've come across so far. (Also, it seems very fitting that I finished this book on Memorial Day, even though that wasn't planned.)   My rating: 10/10

Worth the effort: The friendship version

The closer we get to moving, the more trouble I have finding the motivation to be social. Friendships are a lot of work, requiring both time and energy, which are limited resources, and it's easy to take the selfish approach and only look at cost versus benefit for me. With our departure date approaching, that benefit seems to decrease with every day.

It doesn't help that we've been here less than two years, so I don't have any really strong friendships, simply because I haven't spent sufficient time with anyone to get to that point. If we were going to be here for another year, there would be the potential for casual friendships to become deeper connections, but we aren't, so they won't. And giving up on these relationships now instead of continuing to put effort into them until we move seems like the most energy-efficient option.

I know that isn't right, though, and when I take the time to think things through, there are some serious flaws in the assumptions that lead to that conclusion.

First of all, I'm assuming that friendships should be evaluated solely on their benefit to me. It's very tempting to think that way, but it's also incredibly selfish, and just plain wrong. Friendships are all about living and growing together, encouraging and supporting one another, and sharing struggles and joys, with everything being a two-way street. That's part of what makes them so much work, but also part of what makes them so wonderful.

My second faulty assumption is that I'm not going to get any significant encouragement or support or joy out of my friendships here, thus making me reluctant to put in the energy. In reality, these friendships - especially within our small group, but also outside of it - continue to surprise me with how much they have to offer. Thanks to the friends God has put in my life here in Ohio, I've been challenged and encouraged and have learned important life lessons, and I've laughed and nerded out and generally felt welcomed and loved. So even though it's true that deeper friendships do have a greater potential for all of these things, my friendships here continue to be great blessings.

Finally, I'm also assuming that bailing on these friendships now will make moving away easier. This is only my third move in seven years of being an Air Force wife, but I'm already tired of leaving just when I'm starting to have real friends. Missing people sucks, and if I keep my distance, then I won't really miss anyone. However, the reality is that if I distance myself ahead of time, I'll just be lonely now AND after we move, and I'll miss out on all the little blessings of the friendships I do have here and now.

In light of that, it's a little easier to find the motivation to make this last month count. In fact, the very process of writing this blog post encouraged me to take advantage of two opportunities for community that I might otherwise have ignored. I suppose that's evidence of how important it is to engage in a bit of introspection every now and again, rather than living based solely on your feelings, because my gut was definitely way off on this one. Now I get to make the most of the time I have left with my Ohio friends, until it's time to move on.

"I don't feel so good..."

When I watch movies based on true stories, there's something very sobering about any deaths that occur in them, because I know that the characters are based on actual people, who actually died, and left actual families and friends behind. Knowing that adds a certain weight to such movies, an emotional impact that goes beyond just good storytelling, which makes sense to me - I care because these were real people, and their deaths were real and final. However, I saw a movie last month that started me thinking about why I also care when fictional characters die as well, and, more to the point, why I still care even when I'm fairly confident they're not going to stay dead.

I'm actually surprised I haven't thought about this in detail before now, since I watch more than a few genre shows and movies where characters die and come back on a rather frequent basis. And although this sometimes gets taken to an extreme (I'm looking at you, Supernatural), for the most part these fictional deaths still hurt, even if some iteration of the character is likely to return in the future. The question is, why is this the case? You'd think that knowing what I know about the impermanence of death in these fictional universes would be sufficient to remove most (if not all) of the emotional impact of such events, but it isn't.

I'd like to say I figured out the answer to this all on my own, but the truth is that I was pointed in the right direction by a comment on an article I was reading, which very astutely pointed out the following (character names replaced to avoid spoilers):

"It doesn’t matter that WE know they’re coming back, because WE know they aren’t real in the first place... What makes Character A’s death matter is how it affects Character B, and because we empathize with Character B, we feel his pain."

In other words, when the Hellhounds catch up with Dean in season three of Supernatural, you care because you care about Sam, who's devastated by the loss of his brother. Unlike the viewer, Sam doesn't know that Dean is a main character and can't be killed off permanently without the show ending. And at that point, Sam also doesn't know that Dean is a major player in the apocalypse and therefore can't stay dead by in-universe rules. Thus, you end up with a character you care about who's just watched his brother get torn to shreds and bleed out in front of him, and even if there's no way for you to fully understand what that feels like, you're invested enough in the character that you share some small degree of his pain.

This all relies on a basic human instinct - empathy - wherein caring about someone translates into experiencing at least a small part of their emotional responses. And yes, this can happen with fictional characters, and not just with your real-life friends. This is especially true for those of us who tend to immerse ourselves more fully in whatever fictional universe we're currently encountering - watching and rewatching movies and shows (or reading and rereading books), thinking about the characters even when we're back in the real world, creating our own backstories and headcanons, spending large enough amounts of time with our favorite characters that they begin take on a life of their own for us.

When that happens, it becomes easy to have those shared emotional experiences - happy, sad, and everything in between. You feel a surge of joy when the guy finally proposes to the girl, because you've been rooting for them both all along. Or maybe a humiliating moment in a high school movie makes you cringe inwardly, because you're sharing in that character's embarrassment. And when a character dies, whether or not they're going to stay dead, you feel the loss because that character is mourned and missed by those who loved them, whom you've also come to love.

Of course, there are exceptions to this rule, but even those rely on your connection to the characters involved. For instance, when Peter is wiped from existence at the end of season three of Fringe, it hurts because there is no one to miss him, even the people who should. Thus, to a certain extent, you as the viewer take on that responsibility since no one else can. But again, the extent of the impact here relies on a depth of connection between the viewer and the characters, and casual viewers won't have the same experience as committed fans.

This correlation between attachment to the characters and the impact of fictional deaths also goes a long way toward explaining why the ending of a certain recent movie left people like me feeling emotionally compromised, while having a much smaller impact on people like Trevor. If the main reason you care about fictional deaths that aren't going to last is because you care about the characters left behind, then everything relies on the degree to which you've cultivated your connection to those characters over the years. This also explains why TV shows generally make me more emotional than stand-alone movies - there's a disparity there in the amount of time I've spent in those universes.

I feel like I've rambled on a bit here, but it all comes down to this: fictional entertainment works because humans are not just rational beings. We're also emotional and social beings, who instinctively seek out connections with others. And when we make those connections, we can't help but empathize, even when the rational side of our brain is reminding us that this particular world we're experiencing is fictional. There's a strange kind of beauty in that, because it shows how strong our need to connect is, and it's a wonderful example of how fiction can bring out the best in us.

So even though people may laugh at how emotional I get over good storytelling, I'm not going to stop connecting with or caring about fictional characters. In fact, I tend to believe building those fictional connections helps to work my emotional muscles and deepen my ability to empathize with people I actually know. And in the end, it's those real world connections that really matter.


(The full comment quoted from above can be found here, but be warned: it contains MAJOR spoilers for Infinity War.)

This Steelers fan is coming back home!

Since we've been in one place for two years, it's time to pick up and move again this summer. Thus, we're Pittsburgh bound! But wait, you say, there's not an active duty Air Force base in Pittsburgh... That's right, but the husband is so awesome that he beat out all the other applicants this past fall for a chance to get an environmental engineering PhD on the Air Force's dime. We looked at a few schools, but after all the effort Pitt put into recruiting Trevor for their program, they managed to win us over. Of course, it didn't hurt that Pittsburgh has a great cultural scene, as well as being close to family. Plus, it's a beautiful city.

While I'm not really looking forward to the move itself (I don't think anyone ever does), I'm excited to see what this new stage of our adventures brings. And I'm really hoping the lessons I've learned from past moves will carry over and help with this one. Either way, this is guaranteed to be another opportunity for stepping outside my comfort zone and discovering more about myself, about others, and about God.

This is what happens when you don't stick to the reading list...

I'm really enjoying the way the Keeping It Real challenge categories are encouraging me to browse my local library for books that catch my eye, whether those are books I've been meaning to read for a while but not gotten around to yet, or books that just look interesting. The DDC for March was 800-899, which generally includes a lot of poetry, humor, plays, some well-known fiction, and non-fiction about writing and writers. Along with the book listed below, I also read Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, by T.S. Eliot, which was too short to count towards my reading total for the year, but frequently gets referenced by my in-laws, so now I'll know what they're talking about. I didn't end up completing the challenge for April, but the DDC for this month was 500-599, which allowed me to celebrate Star Wars day on May the 4th by reading a book about the science in Star Wars, totally indulging both my inner science nerd and my inner Star Wars nerd. I've also got a few books on real physics and space stuff out of the library, which I haven't had time to start yet.

As for the KidLit for Grown-Ups challenge, the category for March was Newbery Medal winners and Newbery Honor books, which made me very excited. And after I went and looked at my shelves, I got even more excited. I own quite a few books from the list of winners and honorees (twenty-five of them, to be exact), and I also had a Newbery Honor book out of the library for the Birth Year challenge. I ended up reading four books for March's KidLit challenge, and all of them were excellent. Then, the KidLit challenge for April was to read the first book in a children's series that you either hadn't read or hadn't read since you were a kid, which resulted in me reading two more fun books, including one off my TBR pile that I'd been excited for. All in all, this particular monthly challenge has been great so far.

16. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, by Grace Lin

(Read for the Mount TBR and KidLit challenges.) This book was even better than I hoped it would be, and I had pretty high expectations to begin with. There were three things I particularly loved about it. First of all, it's beautiful to look at. I love the illustrations, I love the chapter headings, and I love the use of different fonts and headings for the stories within the story. It's a pleasure to read, and not just because of the writing. Secondly, I love the way the stories within the story are more than just stories. The moment I figured that out was the moment I knew I was going to love this book. And thirdly, I love that we not only get the tale of Minli's quest, but also get to see Ma and Ba dealing with her absence while she's off seeking their fortune. That really grounded the story for me, and made me love it all the more.   My rating: 10/10

17. The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

I really love the writing in this, which leaves me wondering how the translation compares to the original. I wish I knew Spanish, but the translator did an amazing job, and the story itself is wonderfully structured and beautifully told. I do feel like Nuria Monfort's account occasionally felt too much like a recap and lost some of its effectiveness, but whenever it came back to focusing on the interpersonal connections that really drive this story, it drew me back in. And the main story surrounding that account is full of intriguing characters and shadowy mysteries, which all converge nicely in the end.   My rating: 9/10

18. Creation Regained, by Albert M. Wolters

(Read for the Read It Again, Sam challenge.) This was another book I originally read in college that was fairly influential in the maturation of my worldview (not surprisingly, since it's a book about worldview). It's a bit of a dry read, but the concepts in it are really useful, with a lot of potential for application in all of life (which is kind of the point). I wish there was a simplified version of this book to recommend to newer believers or those without an academic background, as I would be hesitant to recommend this particular book to such people, even though they could benefit greatly from the ideas, just as I have.   My rating: 7/10

Possums and skunks and monsters - oh, my!

Today, I'd like to discuss two fairly unrelated topics, which have combined to cause massive adrenaline spikes on a nightly basis. First, spring has arrived here in Ohio, and along with the occasional downpour and the warmer weather, it's brought with it an abundance of nocturnal creatures that like to hang out in our backyard. Along with the skunk that featured prominently in my last post, we've also had possum and raccoon sightings, none of which are animals I particularly want Radar trying to befriend.

My nightly routine has therefore expanded to include the following process: Turn on the yard and patio lights. Stand at the door and shine a flashlight around, looking for any critters. Step outside and stomp around on the patio, making lots of noise to deter any nocturnal beasts from wandering into the area, all the while praying that the skunk isn't hanging out behind the grill or the bush or the ornamental grasses. Take the dog out on a leash, having a heart attack anytime a shadow moves or the wind blows or the neighbor's cat makes an appearance. I highly recommend this as a bedtime routine for anyone who never wants to sleep soundly again.

Second, about a week into this springtime routine, I went to see A Quiet Place for the first time. I would highly recommend it, as it's the best movie I've seen in theaters so far this year. There are many things I love about it, and one of those things is the way it plays with sound. For anyone who hasn't heard about the movie yet, the basic premise is that it follows a family who has to live in almost complete silence, because the world has been overrun by creatures who hunt by sound. I won't go into much detail (since I don't want to spoil anything), except to say that I have twice now watched audiences go from munching popcorn to total silence as the film progresses - it creates an atmosphere where you feel like you can't make a sound, because the family onscreen can't. It's quite the experience, and it's a movie that sticks with you.

Which is great, because it has some wonderful things to say about family, and terrible, because you leave that theater noticing every little sound you make. And, as previously mentioned, my nightly routine involves going outside in the dark and stomping around - a process that's bad enough when you're worrying about skunks, and which gets ten times worse when somewhere in the back of your mind, you're convinced that any loud noise could result in a creature coming out of nowhere and skewering you. I have so far been an adult and kept up the stomping, since the skunk is real and the monsters are (probably, hopefully) not, but it's certainly added an extra layer of entertainment to the routine, especially because I can't help laughing at myself - once I've made it safely back inside, that is.

Count it all joy

We just started a study of the book of James in women's Bible study, which couldn't have come at a more apt time. This was a rough week, and I needed those reminders from Scripture to shift my focus off my misery and back onto God. And I figured I'd share a few of my thoughts from this week, but when I sat down to write a normal blog post this came out instead.

Count it all joy, my brothers, 

when you meet trials of various kinds, 

for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. 

And let steadfastness have its full effect, 

that you may be perfect and complete, 

lacking in nothing.

Count it all joy...
       when the dog chases a skunk at midnight
       thoroughly doused
       hey, google: how do you deskunk a dog?

Count it all joy...
       when he slips past you and rolls on the rug
       multiple times
       hey, google: does skunk scent ever come out of carpet?

Count it all joy...
       when the carpet cleaner makes things worse
       allergies flare
       hey, google: what's the closest decent hotel?

Count it all joy...
       because the dog isn't hurt, just disgusting
       because the carpet smells less now
       because the hotel is nice, even the second night

Count it all joy...
       because you love
            the dog who just wants to be friends
            the husband who's been amazing through everything
            the God whose strength is there when you have none of your own

Count it all joy...
       because testing produces endurance
       because endurance produces maturity of character
       because character produces a hope that will never be put to shame
       because God's love never fails

Count it all joy.

But we rejoice in our sufferings, 

knowing that suffering produces endurance, 

and endurance produces character, 

and character produces hope, 

and hope does not put us to shame, 

because God's love has been poured into our hearts 

through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

I'd rather dream of werewolves

For as long as I can recall, nearly every dream that I have remembered upon waking has been one where I knew I was dreaming. I can count on one hand the ones that weren't - when I was five, I dreamed about being eaten by a panther, and twice in college I had nasty nightmares that felt very real. Aside from those three, every other remembered dream has been a lucid one.

This has an interesting effect: what most people would think of as nightmares, I think of as exciting choose-your-own-adventures, or, if I don't feel like expending the effort to change anything, the dream equivalent of an intense movie or TV episode. I guess I should also mention that I often have repeating dreams as well, so I can make different choices each time through - if going left leads to getting mauled by a werewolf, and going right means ending up tied to a torture rack, then I'll go down the stairs instead. (See what I mean about things that most people would consider nightmares?)

Because I know my dreams aren't real, these nightmarish dream situations aren't nearly as terrifying as they could be. In fact, I get the same sort of thrill out of them that I do out of watching or reading about fictional characters being trapped or hurt or threatened. These action-adventure-thriller-horror dreams can only scare me as much as I let them, so I let them scare me just enough to make me really feel alive. It's cheaper than going bungee jumping :)

The problem is those dreams where it doesn't matter that I know I'm dreaming, because whatever I'm dreaming about really does exist in the waking world. These are my version of nightmares - dreams where holiday get-togethers turn into shouting matches, where therapists are trying to dig out my deepest secrets so they can use them against me, where I'm trying my hardest to make it through my life and everyone around me is telling me it's not good enough. It doesn't matter that I know the particular instance isn't real, because I can remember times where something very similar was.

I can wake up from a dream about a bunch of mobsters turning out to really be gigantic black werewolves that rip me and my vigilante friends to shreds, shrug, and say, "Well, that was interesting." And I can dream about being chased by vampires while dress shopping at the mall, and be more frightened by the thought of making fashion decisions than by the undead monsters hunting me. But a dream about a holiday dinner that ends in yelling and tears hangs over me for hours afterward, dredging up memories I'd rather forget. I prefer the monsters. Or the government agents trying to kill me for infiltrating a top-secret base. Those I can handle.

News flash: "Introvert" doesn't necessarily mean what you think it means

As most (or all) of you who know me have probably already figured out, I'm very much an introvert. A really, really, really introverted introvert. And yet I hate telling people that, because some of the common responses annoy me to no end.

No, I am not naturally quiet or unopinionated. My friends and family (or anyone who's ever played board games with me, for that matter) would probably laugh at that idea. It's just that when I'm around people that I don't know well, I like to think things through several times before I say them, which means I talk much less. There's an inverse correlation between how comfortable I feel around someone and how much I think before I speak, though, ranging all the way from "I don't know you at all so I'm not saying much," to "Filter? What filter?" Basically, the more you get to know me, the more you'll realize how loud and obnoxious I can be.

Yes, I really do like talking to people. Not all day every day, and not in large groups, but I love a good conversation. The comic above is a pretty good depiction of my thought process, because I'll definitely feel exhausted afterward, but that doesn't mean I won't enjoy myself in the moment, especially if I'm hanging out with people I know and love. As for strangers or passing acquaintances... well, the only way to develop a connection is to work at it. I don't like that first step much at all, but the subsequent steps get easier and easier and then you're talking for an hour and actually enjoying it! Granted, I'll need at least a full day to recover from a game night or a weekend with friends, but I generally enjoy moderate amounts of time spent with smaller numbers of people.

No, I don't mind small talk. A lot of people seem to assume introverts don't want to waste time and energy on trivial matters, but that's not me. The topics people choose when they're making small talk tell you a lot about who they are, and it's also a great place to find things that you can connect over and build from. You love superhero TV shows? Hey, so do I! What's your favorite? Why? And now you've made a connection and learned something about how that person thinks. You hate this rainy weather? Me too; I get headaches every time a front moves through. You do too? That sucks. And now you know to be extra nice to that person when the weather is nasty, because they probably need the encouragement.

Yes, I do appreciate it when you come up and talk to me. Please don't "respect my introversion" by avoiding talking to me. That just means I stand around feeling like an outsider in group situations until I can muster up the energy to go start a conversation. It's actually a lot easier for me if you initiate the contact, and then let me politely bow out when my energy reserve for the conversation has been depleted. I've had a lot of practice and I've gotten pretty good at that last part, and I'd much rather have someone talk to me when I'm not really in the mood for a long conversation than be ignored when I really would like to talk. Just be sensitive to conversational cues and don't assume I dislike you just because I bowed out rather quickly.

I'm not claiming all introverts feel this way, because generalities like that are what cause these annoying assumptions in the first place, but this is me, and now you know. So the next time someone tells you they're an introvert, spend a bit of time finding out exactly what that means for them, and what makes them feel wanted and included in this world, because it might not be what you first think.

(Comic credit: Sarah's Scribbles)

From sentient luggage to ancient scrolls, and everything in between

Despite my best intentions, and my nice neat list of books to choose from for this year's reading, I've already managed to get distracted by books that weren't on my list at all. That's mostly due to finding a few intriguing challenges on Habitica in some of the book guilds.

The "Keeping It Real" challenge encourages you to read from a specific Dewey Decimal System class, randomly chosen each month. The DDC for January was 200-299, which actually overlapped with a book I was already planning to read, but the DDC for February was 000-099, which required a trip to the library and resulted in some interesting reading.

I also joined February's edition of the "KidLit for Grown-Ups" challenge, which added a Dr. Dolittle book to my list (technically also a candidate for the Read It Again, Sam challenge, but not one I'd planned on, so I'm not counting it).

The book guilds haven't just provided distractions, though. I used a Six of Crows readalong challenge to knock that one off my list, and am using a borrowed books challenge to work my way through the rather large stack of books I have on loan from family members and the library.

1. The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett

I've read a bunch of the later Discworld books, so I figured it was time to go back to the beginning and see where it all started. This reads more like four loosely connected short stories than a novel, and it's obvious that Pratchett was still figuring out his world at this point, as some things feel more than a little out of sync with their future incarnations. However, the humor and general weirdness are still there, albeit without a cohesive plot to hold things together. Ideally, I wouldn't give this book to a newcomer to Discworld, but it was a fun read.   My rating: 6/10

2. The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman

(Read for the Mount TBR challenge.) This was an excellent book. You can't read a discussion of military science fiction without seeing this book mentioned, and now I understand why. It's not about the battles, but about the way the war affects those fighting it, and the author's own experiences in Vietnam and afterward allow him to write that very powerfully. But even though the book was written more than forty years ago, it rarely feels dated. It also uses time dilation very effectively, and, surprisingly, actually has a hopeful ending (which I was not expecting, but was pleased with).   My rating: 9/10

3. The Light Fantastic, by Terry Pratchett

I really like Rincewind, Twoflower, and the Luggage, and Pratchett's writing style always makes me very happy. The main thing The Colour of Magic was missing was a plot, but The Light Fantastic has that, and all the odd pieces and snarky humor and weird goings on come together quite nicely. There are fun twists and turns, the Luggage eats more people, Death learns to play cards, and the Spell hanging about in Rincewind's mind finally gets dealt with. It's quite an enjoyable book.   My rating: 8/10

A little hope goes a long way

I tend to go through phases of following the news. The cycle goes something like this:

1. Feel guilty because I am ignorant of important things going on in the world, especially things that affect me or people I know.
2. Feel even more guilty for only caring about the news that affects me.
3. Start listening to or reading the news on a regular basis.
4. Become depressed because the world is such a mess.
5. Stop following the news.
6. Live in blissful ignorance for a little while.
7. Hear other friends discussing current events coherently.
8. Feel guilty because I don't know what's going on.
9. Repeat, ad nauseam.

It's mentally and emotionally difficult to care about what's happening out there in the world, because a lot of what's happening isn't pretty. Whether it's the ugliness of racism, or mass shootings, or bombings, or scandals, or violent protests, or military coups, the news can be downright depressing. And while I know the fact that disasters and tragedies make for more gripping headlines contributes to the overall bleakness of the news, that doesn't make it any more fun to listen to day in and day out.

And then, in the middle of all that, we get seventeen days of hope.

I love the Olympics for many reasons, but one of those reasons is being able to turn on the TV every day to see stories of people overcoming adversity to make their dreams come, to see athletes from all around the world congratulating one another on their successes, and nations putting aside their differences for a short while to celebrate athletic excellence. I'm not saying the Olympics fix everything in the world, but they do provide a glimpse of what this world can look like when we focus on our common passions and shared pursuits rather than on our differences.

Really, it's a foretaste of what the renewed creation will be like - no more divisions, no more wars, no more hatred, and I think that's why watching the Olympics always satisfies that inner longing for peace to reign on earth. And even though these Winter Games are only a dim reflection of a future reality, that doesn't make them any less of a bright spot in the middle of a dark world.

In a few weeks, the headlines will once again be full of everything that's wrong with the world, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, but it's nice to balance that out with a bit of hope now and again. If it happened more often, maybe I'd find it easier to stick with following the news.

The prince of humbug

I watched The Greatest Showman recently, and it got me thinking about the ways that movies manipulate us. Maybe they appeal to our sense of nostalgia (The Force Awakens, anyone?), or to our instinctive love of a story of triumph against all the odds (pretty much every sports movie ever made). Maybe they appeal to our romantic side (hence the plethora of rom-coms available), or our desire to believe in heroes. Maybe they're so flashy that the spectacle distracts from their lack of substance, or they gloss over the uncomfortable parts of the story to give us half truths that make us feel good. Let's face it - if you walk out of a movie having had a good time, you're more likely to recommend that movie to someone else, and the studio racks up the profits. It's just good business.

And there's nothing inherently wrong with that sort of manipulation. I'm not complaining about the way Jurassic World played on my love for Jurassic Park, or the way The LEGO Batman Movie threw in every popular sci-fi and fantasy reference it possibly could, or the way Guardians of the Galaxy gave us yet another bunch of nobodies saving the galaxy. Most of the time, movies work because they connect with things that are already important to us - love, family, home, courage, sacrifice, and hope, to name a few. So even when I know I'm being played by a movie, I'm happy to go along with it when it's bringing out good things in me.

The problem comes when you get a movie like The Greatest Showman. It's a masterpiece in manipulation, a spectacle that would meet with the approval of P.T. Barnum himself. The bright lights, upbeat music, and vibrant costumes swirl around you, Hugh Jackman's charm makes you instantly inclined to like his character, and the movie never slows down enough for you to hold on to the knowledge that you're being duped. I couldn't care less about historical accuracy, but the fact remains that this version of P.T. Barnum shares one thing in common with his historical counterpart: they both shamelessly use people to further their own careers. The movie even touches on this multiple times, and it's obvious that Barnum doesn't care about his performers as people, but come the end of the movie they're begging him not to give up on them, to keep the circus open. Even though he's done nothing but treat them with disdain, even though the whole circus is built around exploiting and dehumanizing them, the happy ending in this film revolves around keeping that "home" alive. Granted, Barnum seems to learn some lessons about the importance of family, but that doesn't stop the "greatest show" from spinning on.

And it's quite the show - a whirling cascade of color and light and song to gloss over the uncomfortable aspects of the movie. I have nothing against the songs themselves, and some of them are actually quite good when taken out of their movie context, with themes that serve to counteract at least in part the more disturbing aspects of the story. But the songs are also used to sweep issues under the rug without really addressing them, or even to magically wave away the problems altogether. It's hard not to get caught up in numbers like From Now On or the Oscar-nominated This Is Me, and The Greatest Showman uses that emotional response to distract you from the truth - these people deserve a better place, a better home than Barnum's circus of humbug.

I will freely admit that aside from a few moments where I felt like something wasn't quite right, I fell for the spectacle, and I'm not surprised that so many other people have too. But once I stepped outside the movie theater and started to think about what I'd just seen, I began to feel very uncomfortable, not just with the problematic content, but with how well I'd been duped in the moment. It's one thing to get me to overlook cliched writing or overdone story arcs or seriously cheesy romantic moments by playing on my emotions. It's another thing entirely to use those same methods to get me to overlook more important issues. The Greatest Showman isn't the first movie to pull this trick and it won't be the last, nor is this phenomenon constrained to entertainment. And that's my biggest takeaway from this whole thing - making an attempt to be more conscious of the ways I'm being manipulated to overlook things I shouldn't ignore, both in fiction and, more importantly, in real life.

We're going on a book hunt...

It's January, which means it's once again time to present my reading plan for the year!

Last year I did my best to read a lot more of the books that I already owned, and although fanfiction and library books distracted me somewhat, I still did pretty well. I summited my chosen mountain for the Mount TBR challenge (meaning I knocked 24 books off my TBR piles), and reread a bunch of old favorites as well, thanks to the Read It Again, Sam challenge. I also met my personal goal of 52 books, reading a total of 57 books, 4 book-length fanfics (plus a whole lot of shorter fics), and 18 comic collections.

This year, I'm recommitting to the Mount TBR challenge at the Mont Blanc level, to move at least another 24 books off my mountain of reading material. If I'm really on top of my reading part way through the year, I can always move up to a higher mountain. I'm also coming back to the Read It Again, Sam challenge, since the majority of the books I own are ones I've already read but liked enough to keep around, even if I haven't read them in years at this point.

The majority of my potential hard-copy TBR books for the year.

I'm also adding in a new challenge this year - the Birth Year Reading Challenge. I came across this challenge on a book blog, and thought it looked like an interesting idea. Then, I started to do some research and discovered that both Matilda and Ten Kids, No Pets were published the year I was born, along with two Discworld books. That did it for me; the only thing left to decide was how many books I wanted to aim for. Given that I turn 30 this year, I figured 30 books sounded like a good goal. Five of them will be shorter than 100 pages, including one of my favorite picture books - The Incredible Painting of Felix Clousseau - along with other childhood favorites. And some of the books for this challenge will actually count toward my Mount TBR challenge as well - it turns out four of the unread books on my shelves are the same age as me.

By the time I throw in fanfiction and all the books that catch my eye at the library, I'm guaranteed to have a full year of reading ahead of me. It wasn't all that long ago that I was struggling to read 20 books in a year, but I'm now back to the reading frenzy that was my life up until college, and it's wonderful. So bring on a new year of reading - I'm ready and raring to go!

The tail end of my books from 2017

2017 was a good year. I defended my thesis, made it through the whole Bible, started to actually feel at home in Ohio, hiked above 10,000 ft. without dying, and read a lot of good books. I didn't achieve all my goals, but I feel pretty happy with what I did accomplish. And now, without further ado, here are my thoughts on the last of the books I read in 2017.

53. Taran Wanderer, by Lloyd Alexander

(Read for the Read It Again, Sam challenge.) This was the first Prydain book I read as a kid, and it's always been my favorite of the series. Unlike the rest of the series, this is a journey story - Taran has set out on a quest to find out who he is, since his parentage is unknown. The various people he meets along the way all contribute to his growth, and he comes to realize that being himself is enough, and what he does with his life matters more than his unknown origins. From an adult perspective the message delivery is maybe a little heavy-handed, but then again it worked wonders for me as a child and that's the target audience, even if I still love these books as an adult. My rating: 9/10

54. Chocky, by John Wyndham

(Read for the Read It Again, Sam challenge.) When I first read this book I was about the same age as the kid in it, and was just starting to read science fiction so I was enthralled by all the various ideas this book touches on. Rereading it now, I can see how some parts of it are dated, but the ideas are still wonderful and the execution is lovely for the most part. The story isn't fast-paced or action-filled, but it remains one of my favorite explorations of what contact with an alien intelligence could look like.   My rating: 9/10

55. Tehanu, by Ursula K. Le Guin

(Read for the Mount TBR challenge.) I'm glad I didn't read this book as a kid; I don't think I would have appreciated it back then. I always wondered what happened to Tenar and Ged after the original trilogy, and this book begins to answer that question. It's definitely character-driven, with only a loose plot to hold things together, but the characters are interesting enough to keep my attention. For the most part I really enjoyed seeing Tenar's view of the world, although I did at times feel like I was being clubbed over the head with particular points, which threw me out of the story a bit.   My rating: 7/10