The Literate Kitty

It took me almost one entire week to read a book I should have been able to finish in two days. o_O You're thinking that it must have been an incredibly awful book, right? Something so bad it was like facing the dentist (armed with that horrid, noisy drill) over and over again, to get me to read it? Well... um, no, not so much. This was actually one of those rare, OMG-this-is-so-amazingly-awesome books. Huh. Then, I was probably moseying along at what was surely less-than-an-injured-snail's pace in order to savor it, to make it last longer, yes? Erm... yeah, okay, that sounds good. Let's go with that. (Of course, I was also busy with work and life and... all that other stuff. So there's that, too.) Anyway, this means I should have a review up in the next day or so (depending, as always, on how quickly I'm able to switch gears, focus, and formulate some sort of remotely-coherent thoughts... Hmm.). For now, though, here's a pearl of wisdom from my boyca...

Being "let down" by something involves having pretty high expectations about whatever "it" is at the outset--or at least going into it with some high hopes--only to be met, in the end, with disappointment. Bearing that in mind, I actually wasn't  as let down as I thought I'd be by Dead in the Family , Charlaine Harris' tenth (and most recent) entry in what has become her inordinately-popular series featuring Bon Temps, Louisiana waitress/telepath/lover-of-supernatural-beings Sookie Stackhouse (and a whole slew of those friendly and not-so-friendly "supes"; namely vampires, werewolves and other shapeshifters, and an assortment of decidedly un-Tinkerbell-like fairies). After more or less enjoying the down-homey charm mixed with mayhem of the first seven books in this series, I was really let down by the eighth and ninth (due to their scattershot, everything-but-the-kitchen sink plotting and a very different--and considerably less-enjoyable--...

Maybe it's the near-total absence of any modern technology, or perhaps it's nothing more than the simple yearning for something totally different (the "grass is always greener" syndrome)... but whatever the reason, there's this special sort of magic that I often feel when reading something set in the long-ago past--especially if it's a past full of horses and castles.  A lot of people like to read about yesteryear because they think it evokes a more "innocent" time, but I disagree. After all, there's certainly no shortage of "bad stuff" going on in most historical books; for every gunshot wound, stabbing, bomb, or car chase you read about in a modern setting, you can find a comparable sword fight, beheading, burning at the stake, or chase on horseback in something set in a long-ago era, too.  And, a lot of bad stuff has remained unchanged-- things like bare-knuckle brawls, sexual assaults, and abductions have always been a part of lif...

" And now, for something completely different... "  I've always loved that bit from the days of Monty Python's Flying Circus , so this is my version of "something completely different" (although it shouldn't be  completely unexpected... this is "The Literate Kitty", after all). One of THE cutest--and flat-out coolest--informational/help books, ever, has to be  The Cat Owner's Manual (Operating Instructions, Troubleshooting Tips, and Advice on Lifetime Maintenance) .  Touting itself as a "beginner's guide to feline technology", this is definitely not your run-of-the-mill cat book. If you're a cat person (a "pawrent"), there's a whole lot to like in this insanely-clever little book.  (And, if you're more a "dog person" or a "little human person", there's a manual for you, as well--each of which I'm guessing is nearly as nifty.) Authors Dr. David Brunner (veterinarian) and S...

Although I can't technically  say this with any degree of authority, I suspect that most people picture one of two things when thinking about the rural Deep South here in America.  Many of them likely conjure up some Tara-esque ideal--an immense plantation house surrounded by lush trees and flowers, with genteel, white-frocked ladies wearing beribboned sunhats, and dapper, pale-suited men in straw boaters, lounging on verandas and idly sipping juleps. (Whether or not that's ever been a remotely accurate portrayal of any part of the South, I have no idea, but nowadays such an idyllic tableau is probably only to be found by going on one of those scenic antebellum tours.) The other popular depiction is that of a dirt-poor family, living in a ramshackle house that's seen better decades... a hound dog or two lounging on the yard out front, a rusting old pickup on blocks under a shade tree, and some discarded appliances cast haphazardly in the overgrown backyard... with the fe...

At the end of the day, it all boils down to love (or lust), doesn't it?  Well, maybe not for everyone ; some people are perfectly happy without such pesky distractions cluttering up their lives, of course.  But for most of us, it's safe to say that we're pretty much at the whims of our hearts (or libidos, for the more cynically-minded out there). Whatever that ineffable spark is—the thing that makes our stomachs do crazy somersaults and causes a few other parts to get all warm and tingly— once we experience it we might as well accept that we're goners, and just buckle up to go along for the ride. Unfortunately, though, our hearts and libidos as often as not decide to be bloomin' idiots, neither knowing nor caring what's best for us. Compounding matters, too many of us just aren't that mentally or emotionally stable, to start with... and that, naturally, is where a whole mess of problems begin. New York City police detective Ellie Hatcher finds herself i...

Yes, I have fallen off the face of the earth. Okay, not really...  gravity didn't decide to up and fail me, and I'm not floating around out there (or freezing, which I suppose would technically be the case) in space. It sure  feels that way, though. (Actually, it feels like I've fallen right off and landed in a big ol' pit of crud.) So, what is this abyss into which I've fallen, you ask? (And why the heck don't I have one of those "help, I've fallen" monitor thingies, har-de-har?) Well, for one thing, work keeps on rearing its less-than-pretty head. (Owning your own business? Not so glamorous. If someone tells you otherwise, turn around and walk the other way. I mean it.) Then there are the multiple governments which keep demanding another piece of our hot little pie, on a monthly and quarterly basis. (Not only does Uncle Sam come sniffing around for the daily special, but also the lesser uncles from three different states--and each one in...