Shaina Reads

I mentioned yesterday that my blogging has been a wee bit sporadic as of late, and I think it shows most in the fact that this is my first Tuesday memes post since December. Oops. I've slowly been getting back into the swing of things after a really rough holiday season. Hectic travel plans, lack of enthusiasm at work, and feeling personally lost conspired to make a less than happy Shaina at the close of the year.

So far, 2015 has got me on the up-and-up. I renewed my contract at work (after asking for a few changes that will make me a lot more satisfied), and I'm beginning to ponder what comes next (another job? more school?). A couple of old college friends came to visit last weekend—it was awesome to catch up and wax nostalgic (and sometimes not-so-nostalgic) about the good ol' days, and I even managed to get a second peek at that book art exhibit with them. I've made an effort to get some exercise most days per week, which always does wonders for my mental health, and I've also read a number of very enjoyable and thought-provoking books, a surefire way to cheer me up.

Fingers crossed I can continue to ride this good wave!

As always, memes follow my life ramblings. First up we've got Top Ten Tuesday, hosted by The Broke and Bookish. Today's topic is: top ten books I'd love to read with my book club/if I had a book club.

I really like how Stefani tackled this week's TTT—by offering a mix of previously read books and ones she would want to read with a group—so I'll be following her lead:



Beloved—This is my favorite book of all time, and I definitely did not get enough discussion about it in high school. This might be because almost everyone else in my class hated it. Ugh.

White Teeth—Y'all know how much I love this one. My heart broke when it went in the first round of my Book of the Year bracket. Let's talk about it! Please?

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks—I have a dearth of people in my life who have read this wonderful book and would like to talk about it.

We Need to Talk About Kevin—This was one messed-up book, you guys. It stares dead-on at really tough stuff, like sociopathy and failure to love your own children. I want to know what other people think of it.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being—OK, I think I've mentioned a few times how much I absolutely hate this book. I don't really hate books, but this one I detest. Everyone seems to love it, and I don't understand why. I just want someone to explain it to me, so I can nod and then launch into exactly why I hate it so much.




I is an Other: The Secret Life of Metaphor and How it Shapes the Way We See the World—I came across this one when I was reading On Immunity: An Inoculation. As a huge fan of idioms and other linguistic topics, I thought it sounded awesome. I would love to hear what others think about it, too!

Bird Box—This sounds all kinds of dystopian and creepy. Let's get creeped out together.

A History of the World in 100 Objects—Mostly because I think history is more fun with friends. (Does anyone actually say this? I guess I do.)

States of Denial: A New Perspective—This one seems fascinating and important. It would also probably be really hard to discuss with anyone else, but I love me a challenge.

Infinite Jest—No, I didn't just put this one on here for the hipster points. It's mostly that this book is so huge and cerebral that I'd want other people to keep me accountable for, you know, actually finishing it.


We've also got First Chapter, First Paragraph Tuesday Intros, hosted by Bibliophile by the Sea. I'm featuring the first paragraph of Wool: The Omnibus Edition by Hugh Howey:

The children were playing while Holston climbed to his death; he could hear them squealing as only happy children do. While they thundered about frantically above, Holston took his time, each step methodical and ponderous, as he wound his way around and around the spiral staircase, old boots ringing out on metal treads.

I'm really enjoying this one so far! Does this first paragraph make you want to read more?

Link me up to your memes!

Hi, all! How are you doing? Tell me, because I really don't know—I've been more than a bit awful at keeping up with my Feedly over the last week or two, and my posting has followed suit. (I did, however, meet my goal of posting three times last week! Yay!)

Fear not, dear follower—I have been reading, but at a much slower pace than usual. I've been getting back into other hobbies, which brings me to today's topic: video games! I have always been a casual gamer, though the ungodly number of hours I've logged in Team Fortress 2 might make you think otherwise. I tend to enjoy games with more of a story (who'da thunk it?) than straight-up FPS, and so when I remembered I had a gift copy of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim in my Steam library, I immediately downloaded it. As I launched it for the first time, I suddenly knew where many, many of my winter hours would be spent. (I mean, I gotta spend my blizzard hours somehow, right?)

I first played the game about three years ago when it first came out, back when I had to borrow my boyfriend's gaming computer instead of enjoying my own. I was much more concerned at the time with completing quests, earning gold, and wrecking some dragons. This time around, I'm immersing myself more in the lore of Tamriel. Having never played the first four Elder Scrolls games, I have plenty of catching up to do!

There are loads of books you can interact with in the game, and more than a few are very-short-story-length (and some even longer). I've only just begun a new play-through, but I've already read a legend of a prince rooting out his double-crossing aides, a super punny erotica, and a bit of wartime history. Many of the books within the game come in multiple volumes, and sometimes you find the second volume before the first. Needless to say, I'm excited to hunt down as many of them as I can. (And, you know, wreck some dragons.)

Where are some unexpected places that you find stories?

Last weekend, my boyfriend and I visited our local art museum to see their exhibit called "Odd Volumes: Book Art from the Allan Chasanoff Collection." Fully curated by students, the display was dedicated to art that highlighted the multi-faceted relationships that humans have with books, particularly as our reading becomes increasingly digital.

"The act of reading books is an inherently sensory process ... We flip through pages, leaving physical reminders of our progress. Dog-eared corners and cracked spines serve as evidence of our interaction with the content. Yet in an era dominated by digital technology, the role of the physical book is in flux. Words are no longer bound to the page but are weightless, accessible to anyone with an Internet connection. Thus when content does appear in book form, this relationship is increasingly meaningful."

A prominent thread tying many of the pieces together was the "decay" of books, both literally (burned, torn, or otherwise deteriorating books abounded) and metaphorically (many of the books were blank or other illegible).

This book is actually covered in live fungi.

Worn-down tomes.

Book  chasm.

According to the curators, this might encourage one to think about books as more than vessels for communicating the written word.

"In an age of Kindles and iPads, the 'wordless' books in this exhibition could be read as examples of the book's impending end. Yet they may instead offer other modes of knowledge. Relieved of their original function, they emphasize construction and compel the viewer to consider the book beyond its content." 

These three below were some of my other favorite pieces. (Sorry if the formatting's wonky!)

I like how this one captures how vividly books can "come alive."

Really intricate paper-cutting.

This mat has the entire text of Moby-Dick on it. Really.

If you want to see more of the pieces and read more about the artists themselves, check out the exhibit website here!

Which of these is your favorite? Have you guys ever seen any cool book art? Happy Saturday!

When I first decided to host my own Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend read-a-thon, I knew I wanted to make an effort to immerse myself in books that would make me think. Though only one other person joined me for this RAT (hi, Karsyn!), I still enjoyed myself and managed to finish two books that had been making me think an awful lot.

I read other things, too—check out my announcement post for my closing stats—but I want to talk about one of those first two here: The Underground Girls of Kabul: In Search of a Hidden Resistance in Afghanistan, by Jenny Nordberg.

But before we get to that, a little aside about thinking. Dr. King himself was (unsurprisingly) a major advocate for critical thinking. Disillusioned by the current quality of education, then 18-year-old King, already a skillful writer, wrote an impassioned piece for his alma mater's college newspaper:

"To think incisively and to think for one's self is very difficult. We are prone to let our mental life become invaded by legions of half truths, prejudices, and propaganda. At this point, I often wonder whether or not education is fulfilling its purpose. ... Education must enable one to sift and weigh evidence, to discern the true from the false, the real from the unreal, and the facts from the fiction." - The Maroon Tiger, Morehouse College student paper, 1947

I've mentioned before that I'm a scientist by training and trade (OK, more like a scientist's assistant, but close enough for our purposes). While I'm a big fan of consuming information, I try my best to be skeptical of what I take in, both the facts themselves and from whom and/or where I'm getting them. Accumulating knowledge is a worthy goal, but even more meaningful is being able to extend that knowledge to other topics and to be able to pick apart the sensationalism in our chosen media and uncover the kernels of truth (or untruth) beneath. I very much try to keep this in mind when I'm reading, and particularly when I'm reading non-fiction or historically-based fiction.

Like Dr. King said, this is hard. Really hard. It becomes even harder when you're reading mainly for pleasure—it's way too easy to be lazy and nod along with whatever the author is saying. It's tough to know whether you're getting the reality of the thing, rather than just another convenient story or flawed way of thinking. This may not be out of malice or a specific agenda on the author's part—everyone has a different worldview, shaped by their communities and their experiences, and that gets reflected in their writing, for better and for worse. But, above all, it's important to be aware of this.

So, TL;DR: Try your best not to be a lazy consumer. Read whatever you like, but be mindful while doing so and definitely don't discount those times when you think to yourself, "Hmm, something isn't quite right here."

Now, on to this book, which happens to be non-fiction. I'll be getting up a review for the other—Growin' Up White by Dwight Ritter—on another day.


The Underground Girls of Kabul tells the story of reporter Jenny Nordberg's five-year attempt to report on the phenomenon of Afghanistan's bacha posh—literally translated as "dressed like a boy." As she discovers, dozens of Afghan girls are brought up as boys under the premise that, eventually (perhaps when their mothers bear "real" sons, as bacha posh are supposed to ensure), they will "change back." In addition to being used as fertility charms, these girls and young women help their family businesses and act as chaperones for female family members. They are also free to move around outside their homes, play with other children and make their voices heard, all unthinkable activities for girls. The stories of these women are interwoven with Afghan history and tradition, including Soviet and American attempts to modernize the country, the rise and fall of the Taliban, and the function of women in a largely patriarchal society.

The women—some of whom have "returned" to being women, while others struggle against it—lead inspiring and heartbreaking lives. I think particularly of teenager Zahra's refusal to relinquish her boy-turning-manhood, much to the chagrin of her parents and teachers.  At one point, Nordberg asks her if she would wear feminine dress if she lived in the West:

She shakes her head at me in disbelief. "Don't you understand? I am not a girl."

 A big takeaway here is that not all bacha posh are created equal: some exist for family honor, aware (and accepting) of the fact that they will one day change back. Others, like Zahra, resolutely cling to their male status. Nordberg briefly veers into discussion of gender identity and trans issues, though not enough for my liking. An interesting, if fraught, question she raises is the role of nature and nurture when it comes to gender identity in Afghanistan:

What also makes Zahra distinctly different from other children or young adults in the Western world with a possible gender identity disorder is that she was picked at random to be a boy. As with other bacha posh, the choice was made for her. For that reason, it would be hard to argue that she was born with a gender identity issue. Instead, it seems as though she has developed one.

Zahra's mother mentioned that her daughter expressed interest in wearing boys' clothes. She did not object, as she was hoping it would encourage a male pregnancy. I'm not sure that I would agree with Nordberg's assessment of "at random" in this case, but her point could certainly hold weight for other bacha posh.

A somewhat critical review of this book touched on the fact that Nordberg seemed to struggle with how to handle Islam's role in perpetuating Afghanistan's male-dominated society. Another laments that the academics and experts she spoke to were almost exclusively foreign-born. (I don't buy into the latter one as much, since the rampant oppression of Afghan women and sexuality doesn't seem to leave much room for female or gender studies scholars.) I know next to nothing about Islam or Afghan scholars and would have to learn more before I could consider whether she presented a balanced account. Does anyone have any recommendations for where to begin?

More than anything else, this book was a discussion of women's liberties (or, more accurately, the lack thereof) in Afghanistan. Privileges women in Western countries take for granted are only possible for Afghan women who are willing to run the risk of impersonating men. It was also a thoughtful meditation on what it means to be a woman—biologically, socially and personally. It serves as a reminder that many of the supposed "differences" between men and women are ones that humans constructed for themselves. I would recommend it for anyone interested in learning more about Afghan society and history and taking a critical look at gender roles and politics.

I checked out The Sirens of Titan via Kindle Unlimited and read it as part of the 2015 TBR Pile Challenge and Bout of Books 12.

TSoT follows the story of Malachi Constant, a very lucky, very aimless man who's been told his fate by a time-traveling man and his dog (the dog time-travels, too): he'll marry, have a child, and end up (after a few detours) on the Saturnine moon of Titan. Throw in a mind-controlled, Martian army camp, long reflections on the concepts of free will and destiny, a strange woman, and a Tralfamadorian, and ta-da: you've got the recipe for a Vonnegut novel.

That's not to say it isn't a good book.  I didn't like a single character in it, but, thankfully, likable characters do not a great work make. In typical Vonnegut fashion, the one-liners are clever and biting, and the commentary on human nature is spot-on, as always:

"... the Universe is an awfully big place. There is room enough for an awful lot of people to be right about things and still not agree." - pg. 8

"'Just because something feels better than anything else,' he said in his thoughts, 'that don't mean it's good for you.'" - pg. 207

"I was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all." - pg. 233  

But, as you can probably tell, I'm having trouble thinking about this book as a standalone work. Did anyone not read Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. in high school English class? I'm talking Slaughterhouse-Five: po-tee-weet, everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, so it goes, etc. (Naturally, this is the quotation that stands out most in my mind, because high school.) I've read a fair number of Vonnegut's novels (SH-5, Breakfast of Champions, Cat's Cradle), but my memories of them are now dim at best, so much that I'm inclined to want to reread his bibliography to get a better overall picture.

But, at the same time, I'm not, because I think I've gleaned what I most need to from this most recent read. To me, his books generally (though not all, see CC) follow the same vein: absurd things happening in space, with a generous dose of sex (and misogyny), war, and fatalism sprinkled on top. This is certainly reductionist of me, but it's mostly that there are so many other books out there, and I'm unmotivated to spend time re-reading these.

I'm not saying that Vonnegut's work is not both masterly and important. Vonnegut was a cornerstone in my literary education and opened the door for me to think more widely about the world at large and what it means to live and die as a human being (yep, don't even care how cliché that sounds). As a believer in determinism and someone who's never read Vonnegut, I think my boyfriend would get a lot out of this book. But, at the same time, maybe he just ought to read SH-5 and leave it at that.

Overall, TSoT is a solid work in Vonnegut's repertoire. My rating reflects more my own feelings about the context of this particular read than on the quality of the work itself. Hell yeah, freedom of speech/opinion.

“...the secret of the Great Stories is that they have no secrets. The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably. They don’t deceive you with thrills and trick endings. They don’t surprise you with the unforeseen. They are as familiar as the house you live in. Or the smell of your lover’s skin. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don’t. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won’t. In the Great Stories you know who lives, who dies, who finds love, who doesn’t. And yet you want to know again.

That is their mystery and their magic.” 

Were you expecting my pick? How did your brackets turn out? Also, have a shameless plug for my MLK 3-Day Read-a-thon, going on NOW!

So this is super late and may end up being a me, myself and I kind of read-a-thon, but I wanted to try my hand at hosting one of these!

Shaina's MLK Three-Day Read-a-thon

Or "th-read-ay," if you prefer. (I don't, because it looks funny, but you're entitled to your opinion.) EDIT: I didn't specify initially (oops), but this will run Saturday through Monday, regardless of your timezone. I don't have a fun button/graphic you can share for this RAT, because 1. I'm not that skilled, and 2. I'm lazy.

I do, however, have this graphic of Martin Luther King, Jr., and his most famous quotation about education. (I didn't make it.) Although I don't always read specifically to learn, it's a large part of why I spend so much time with my nose in my books. As I read this weekend, I want to reflect on the fact that, while what I learn is important, it's also about what I do with that knowledge—what do I think about it? How does it change me and shape the life I lead?

I have two books from which I'm learning a lot—The Underground Girls of Kabul and Growin' Up White (this one is my first NetGalley approval ever, woo!)—that I'd like to finish this weekend, but, if I don't, or I end up reading lighter things instead, that's OK, too. If there's anything I've learned in the last few months, it's important to know when to put down the heavy books (or even all books) for a while. And this is all about learning, right? :)

There are no rules or prizes for this RAT—the goal is to read as much as possible while enjoying the long weekend! If we can chat with each other about what we're reading, even better.

If you'd like to join me, let me know by signing up using the Mister Linky below. This is my first link-up, so, if it breaks, feel free to join up in the comments! There's no sign-up cut-off time—obviously it would be silly to sign up at 11:59 PM on Monday, because you wouldn't get a whole lot of reading done.

I hope you join in!

Guys, why isn't it Friday? There's this three-day weekend looming in the distance, tantalizing me with its many long, unplanned hours (no work shift this Saturday, woo!), and yet it's still only Thursday. Life is hard and stuff. (P.S. Are there any MLK, Jr. Day weekend read-a-thons going on? Would anyone join if I started one? Maybe I'll just, y'know, decide to read a lot on my own. That could be a thing, too.)

All right, ridiculous internal monologue out of the way. BOTY bracket! If you don't know what that is, head on over to Erratic Project Junkie and check out everything Elle has to say about it.

I made two hard decisions today. One was a bit easier than the other, but I still spent a lot of time staring at my bracket and wishing I didn't have to choose. Like I said in my last post, each of these four is a really, really good book. Can't we share the love? But, I DID IT. I did it for you. Or at least for Elle.

I might be just a tad hyper today.


This one was the easier of the two. Women—and tough topics associated with womanhood—are the driving force of both. I've written a little about them in previous BOTY Bracket posts, so refer to those if you want more of my reasoning. While He, She and It was a fantastic read, Possessing the Secret of Joy was a fantastic read and a punch in the gut. Apparently, I like gut punches, because the latter takes the win.


I'm still agonizing over this one. The pairing had me looking up memorable quotes on Goodreads and thinking over the context in which I read each book, because there just wasn't a clear winner in terms of subject matter. Both of them rock, and I've told you why a few different times over the course of this challenge. I finally settled on an answer: it was rough to let The Cider House Rules go, but The God of Small Things takes this match-up.

So we're left with two super heavy books by awesome women. I can't complain about this, but I will complain about having to pick between the two of them on Saturday. Why?

Aaaaand when I first posted this, I forgot the bracket. Go me. Here you are:


Have you guys picked your semifinalists? Did they surprise you? Does anyone else feel like the calendar is wrong and it's definitely Friday? Talk to me!

And now to reveal the final four in the Book of the Year (BOTY) Bracket Challenge, hosted by the lovely Elle from Erratic Project Junkie.

For the first time, I've found myself doubting which book is going to end up the winner! What kind of witchcraft have you constructed here, Elle?! I suppose the idea of completing a bracket if you already know the book that's going to win is silly, and I'm glad not only to be participating in the challenge but also to potentially be proven wrong in my own predictions.

Anyway, since I only made four choices this time around, here's how it went down:


I read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on a train ride home from a summer trip and was immediately drawn in by its spooky setting and the darkness of its themes. I loved it for many of the same reasons I loved Frankenstein, some of which I mentioned in my Elite Eight post. I also explained exactly why I loved He, She and It in that post. If you've been keeping up, then you shouldn't be surprised to hear that He, She and It takes the win.


Dracula was such a good Halloween read—I knew it was a classic, creepy story I should have under my belt, but I didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I did! The format of the story was especially engaging, letting readers rifle through the minds of several characters through a series of letters and diary entries. Possessing the Secret of Joy actually followed a similar format (we read from the perspectives of all the main characters), but the subject matter couldn't be more different. This book broke my heart, all the more so because young women still go through what Evelyn/Tashi did, even in developed, Western nations. My bleeding heart and feminist fury made this choice simple. Alice Walker it is.


Ah, Anna Karenina. You were the first book I read in 2014, and it took me about three months to finish you. You were a behemoth—a beautifully-written, thoughtful, all-too-human behemoth. I wish I had been blogging back in March, because you would have made for a wonderful post, and the outcome of this match-up might have been different. As it is, you've faded from my mind, and, for reasons I've mentioned before, The God of Small Things was such an important read to me in 2014. It takes this round.


I gushed over The Cider House Rules in my last post. Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption are the memoirs of Bryan Stevenson, a lawyer who founded the Equal Justice Initiative and devotes his career to challenging wrongful convictions and fighting for the rights of the incarcerated. I read and reviewed it late last year. I would put Just Mercy in the same basket as The New Jim Crow, though from a much more personal slant. These issues are important to me and so terribly important for everyone to pay attention to. However, I can't get Cider House out of my mind, and for that reason, the fiction beats out the non-fiction.

And here's my updated bracket:

Can we just leave it at Final Four? These are all good books. Really. Don't make me choose!

Show me your brackets! Were you surprised by any of my picks this time?