Have you used Friday Reads? I’m lax, but trying to get better. 🙂
by Bethanne Patrick I began tweeting “What are you reading? #FridayReads” when I was confined to bed with a broken leg after a 2009 auto accident. The break in the bone wasn’t too serious, but the damage to my knee ligaments was so bad that my orthopedist advised me to …
This book is a quick read, and contains practical advice on creativity. I finished my copy in a single reading. The book intersperses text with graphics and quotes. Though small, my copy is marked by post-it flags jutting up from the top, and pink highligher on the pages.
Some of what I found helpful:
“Take time to be bored…Creative people need time to sit around and do nothing.” (67)
He also suggests, if you have room, to set up two different work stations–one analog (computer-free) and one digital. On the analog side, keep paper, pens, sticky notes. Play with the material. Use your hands in the creative phase (60)
And this book is creative. Quotes, images, stark white on black pages highlighing words or phrases. Blackout poetry–which is pretty awesome on it’s own. (Kleon has a poetry collection titled “Newspaper Blackout.” I haven’t read it…yet)
It’s not a book strictly about writing–it’s about being creative, about play–something kids have done solid until the adults ruin it for them. This book reminds me of those childhood books–Harrold and the Purple Crayon being one of them (and I have a copy–got it for Christmas 2 years ago–awesome. But it isn’t a kid’s book. It’s more a book giving the adult in you permission to let the kid buried years ago back out to play, to create, and not worry about the outcome.
“The plane fell from the clouds toward the dirt airstrip in the Inupait village of Kaktovik, Alaska. I braced myself against the seat in front of me. Windows aged and opague blurred the borders of ice and land, sea and sky.” (19)
One year after her father and stepmother are killed by a grizzly bear in the remote wilderness of the Artic, Shannon Ploson retraces their unfinished river trip, looking to honor her father and stepmom and to find healing. It’s a journey that’s difficult on many levels–physically, emotionally, spiritually. It’s a journey that teaches her–and this reader–to see, to believe, and celebrate beauty.
Her writing draws you into the little known wilderness of Alaska, her own personal journey through grief, all woven together with her love of music. She explores the wavering line between worlds–“* listened to the water. In it, I heard the sounds of rocks, low sounds of gurgles and streams and tricles. And I heard voices. Somewhere under the water, even in this shallow place, voices came out of and through the water. I could not understand them, but they talked back and forth with excitment and joy. I stopped still to listen; what I was hearing was impossible.” (232).
I rarely rate books with five stars; but this book is an exception. Her writing is eloquent and honest. One that leaves you thinking once the final page is read.
In 1988, Joe Coutts’s mother Geraldine is raped by an unknown assailant. She isolates herself in her bedroom, refusing to talk about the attack. Her self-imposed isolation leaves Joe and Joe’s father, Bazil to fend for themselves.
When Joe becomes frustrated with the lack of progress in his mother’s case, the thirteen year-old takes matters into his own hands. His search takes him to The Round House, where the attack occurred, and which rests close to the boundaries of three different jurisdictions. Since the exact location of the attack is unknown, there is no way to determine who has jurisdiction over the case. Frustrated, and wanting to free his mother from her prison of fear, Joe takes matters into his own hands, a choice with life-long ramifications.