Favourite adult books of 2013

Ah, the tradition continues. This year, I read 64 adult books, 23 children's books (all the dregs from my last year of judging) and three teen books. Alas, only three were nonfiction, and only three were graphica... Am I getting set in my ways? Wait, don't answer that. Picking up on Pasha Malla's recent article, 40 of my 64 were female authors, while 23 were male, and 26 were Canadian. As he says, to a certain extent these distinctions are meaningless, but I do like to see how balanced, or unbalanced I am (don't comment on that, either!)... and I like to see how much I "stretch."

Here's the best of the best, in sound bites (more complete reviews of many of these have appeared on this blog throughout the year):

1. Code Name Verity by Elizabeth E. Wein: A teenage British spy captured by the Gestapo tells her story as she writes her confession; a tale of unshakable spirits and amazing female friendship that will break your heart.
2. The Testament of Mary by Colm Toibin: the mother of Jesus reflects back on her life in her twilight years in semi-captivity. A troubled, nuanced portrait with surprising revelations about charisma, misogyny and "spin."
3. Above All Things by Tanis Rideout: OK, this one may not be a book for the ages as are some others on this list. It is a solid read, however, and I read it at just the right time for the story to truly move me. Read this even if you care nothing for sports (like me).
4. A Thousand Pardons by Jonathan Dee: Speaking of spin, I have found myself quoting from this book quite a few times recently during the age of Ford. This is a book that excels at making the universal personal: a public figure who slips, and his wife, who in the wake of her husband's scandal becomes a crisis management expert herself, are ultimately redeemed, in the imperfect manner of the modern world.
5. The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer: These friends, with their faults and their loves and their passionate re-inventions, made me feel good about the world, and the people I share it with.
6. Life After Life by Kate Atkinson: Ursula and her lives are infinitely fascinating, in a kind of literary "Choose your own adventure" way. A novel about choices, opportunities, and fate.
7. The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman: A strange little novel about the lengths you might go for the ones you love.
8.  Night Film by Marisha Pessl: Speaking of strange, this is quite the departure in some ways from (and in others, quite similar to) Special Topics in Calamity Physics. A brick of a book about mystery, superstition, celebrity, and, ultimately, the lengths we go to protect the ones we love.
9. Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: No small praise here: this is the best book I have read since White Teeth about race in the modern Western world.
10. The Orenda by Joseph Boyden: a detailed, heartbreaking and dazzlingly human portrait of a pivotal moment in our young country's history.

Inside my work brain

In case you were wondering what goes on in there.

On the front burners, requiring constant stirring:

• Replacing our most aged Bookmobile with a new unit (12-18 months delivery time) and hopefully also ordering a new customer van via 2014 budget
• Other Bookmobile Service Review-related stuff
• Some new options for library customers with disabilities
• Team-building
• 2014 project planning
• Staffing: recruitment, training, retention!

On the back burners, simmering away happily:

• Bookmobile outreach: LEGO at Bayshore (photos!), the pop-up at City Hall which reached over 200 people this summer, our "Win a Ride on the Bookmobile" prize to celebrate Summer Reading Club and our 60th birthday year: we picked young Rebecca up from school with the bus, drove her around the Experimental Farm, and took her for ice cream... A good time was had by all! 
• A developing/deepening partnership with Frontier College in coordinating homework clubs and conversation groups at the library
• Working with the City, who recently launched the amazing City of Ottawa Immigration Portal
• Launching, along with other City depts and teams, a new online volunteer database later this month (which meant I spent my summer re-writing all our related policies and procedures. A great job done but time-consuming and nit-picky).

Swimming around somewhere in the oven:

• Library of the Future Project: Imagine Campaign (see preliminary report here). My lovely Newcomer Services team helped OPL colleagues collect focus group feedback for the campaign from newcomers and groups serving newcomers this fall.
• Attending special events for outreach, such as our recent booth at the CNIB Technology and Services Exhibit.
• Thinking about things in new ways: we recently hosted Volunteer Fairs at OPL branches: the inspiration for these events came out of the recent IMAGINE campaign at OPL. We're also adding some readers' advisory to our brochure for Newcomer Services.

+ 7 million other things I just forgot about right now. Let's file those under "getting scraped off the bottom of the oven with oven cleaner and rubber gloves." Sigh.

See, kids? This is why I haven't blogged a lot about work. For one thing, you probably find this really boring! For another, so much is ..... un-publishable!

I'm still having an amazing time in the new role: it's fulfilling, demanding, exhausting, and endlessly rewarding. It puts me to bed by 10pm and saps my weekend energy, but that could just be a "Year 1" phenomenon.

Right?

'Cause it's not like I'm getting any younger!

Read recently, the "rhymes-with-witchy" version

Ok, so upon re-reading, this may be a mean version of this regular post on my blog.

• The World We Found by Thrity Umrigar: if you like effusive, self-absorbed characters and overplayed plot twists, you'll love it.
• Accusation by Catherine Bush: meh.
• Extraordinary by David Gilmour: double meh.  
• My Notorious Life by Kate Manning: an excellent, meaty historical novel to bring on a series of tedious flights and layovers.
• The Twins by Saskia Sarginson: weird but moving. 
• Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth E. Wein: It has to be said: Rose can't hold a candle to Verity.
• Night Film by Marisha Pessl: bizarre, amazing, frustrating, gifted.... don't read alone at 2am without the lights on.
• Minister Without Portfolio by Michael Winter: Language: I'll get killed for this, but it's Hemingway-esque. In a mostly good way. Plot: kind of annoying.
• Almost English by Charlotte Mendelson: Booker Prize longlist alert! This is a jewel of a story with all larger-than-life characters, from Marina, a 16-year old girl who lives with her mother, grandmother and two great-aunts and struggles to fit into modern London and a new private school despite her half-Hungarian background, to Marina's mother, Laura, who is hiding something, to the grandmother and great-aunts, who both act as one entity and have distinct personalities and their own secrets to tell. Everyone is lonely despite being crammed into a basement flat together.
• We Are on Our Own by Miriam Katin: It probably doesn't bode well that I just had to Google that one to refresh myself on the plot, right? Don't read two WW2 graphic novels in a month, kids! This one is about an incredible story of going into hiding in Hungary. 
• Shakespeare's Tremor and Orwell's Cough: Diagnosing the Medical Groans and Last Gasps of Ten Great Writers by John J. Ross: can you tell which books I bought while at Stratford this summer? If not, keep reading. Anyway, this was an utterly entertaining (as in, exclaim out loud: "ewwww!") read.
• The Property by Rutu Modan: funny, moving graphic novel about WW2 secrets and lies
• Canada by Richard Ford: odd. Somewhat tedious. Congrats for being oddly tedious in a Canadian way, Ford!
• The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman: strange, captivating novel about a child lost and found, a couple desperate to have a child whatever the cost to their souls, and love unbound by moral or legal codes.
• Studio Saint-Ex by Ania Szado: entertaining but forgettable
• Shakespeare Saved My Life: Ten Years in Solitary with the Bard by Laura Bates: the Library Journal article made me cry more than the book, which could have benefited from an editor with a red pen.
• The Empty Room by Lauren B Davis: hard to read but tremendously moving.
• The Archivist by Martha Cooley: I wanted to slap the main characters upside the head. All of them.

Read recently, speed-typing version: typhoid, HeLa, ice storms, suicidal poetesses, Nigerian immigrants, and Montreal bagelshop sisters

More time for reading recently, given that I have taken a running break, am sitting on the balcony more, and took a bit of a staycation!

• Bone and Bread by Saleema Nawaz: a wonderfully rich first novel from a fellow Ottawan/Montrealer about the fantastically complicated bond between two sisters growing up in Montreal in the 80s and 90s.
• Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: definitely one of my favourite books of the year so far, although the fake blog posts by the main character (entitled "Raceteenth or Various Observations About American Blacks (Those Formerly Known as Negroes) by a Non-American Black" the blog made me apologise to my husband at least twice and that's all I am going to say about that) may be the most memorable pieces of this stunning novel by the talented Adichie. Longer, more thoughtful review here by the lovely Kerry.
• Hold Fast by Blue Balliett: a treasure of a book for kids and all ages about a family that finds themselves unexpectedly homeless in modern-day Chicago. Paired with Ocean (below), another modern-day fairy tale, with grittier subject matter but no less charm.
• And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini: yes, Hosseini does it again. Heartstrings are tugged, etc.
• Fish Change Direction in Cold Weather by Pierre Szalowski: made me nostalgic for the Ice Storm, which is no small feat given the horrors of it at the time. Great book, terrible translation.
• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot: all the praise for this book is well-deserved. It is richly compelling and heart-breaking. When Zakariyya thanks Christoph Lengauer for the image of his mother's cell line, I swear I wept profusely over the pages of this book.
• The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (aka he who hugged my best friend recently): A little gem of a book, a fantasy for the non-fantasy reader, a fairy tale for grown-ups.
• The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce: funny, moving. A sweet tale of a stagnant marriage's fresh blooming.
• American Isis: The Life and Art of Sylvia Plath by Carl Rollyson: limited new material and a tautological thesis statement in my opinion, but how could I not read it?
• Reconstructing Amelia by Kimberly McCreight: a great summer read, by which I DO NOT mean it's fluff, just that it is plot-driven and engrossing! Would make a great Law and Order episode, and I say that as a L&O fan.
• Fever by Mary Beth Keane: a fascinating novel based on the story of Typhoid Mary.

Warring queens, a novice nun, dancing doctors and a small boy in a garbage can: celebrating my 10th season at the Stratford Festival

 Roses for the Bard

Hi, my lovelies. Sorry again for the long silence. I could tell you I was busy, but would that even mean anything anymore? Suffice it to say that I have not been whiling away enough time at the beach (only thrice) or on my own balcony. Although, just to balance it out, I am writing this post in my pajamas at 1:44 pm, so don't feel too badly for me.

I had to check the production history to determine that I think this was my 10th season (in almost 20 years, but hey, who's counting?) at Stratford. My mother has been going (off and on, with a large gap when she had a small child in the house!) for many more years than me, but we began going together in 1994 (memorable event that year: a pirate striking up conversation with us, in our seats, during The Pirates of Penzance). Other memorable moments have included: Amadeus in 1995, two Lears (Hutt and Plummer), Waxman's Willy Loman, Merchant in pre-WW2 Italy, nearly losing our lunch (someone else did, in the lobby, at intermission - no joke! And I'm not saying it wasn't a good production....) during/after Titus Andronicus in 2000, Hunchback in 2004 (also, um, graphic, but entertaining!), and To Kill a Mockingbird in 2007 (students kicking the back of my chair be damned!).

I confess Stratford made me feel old this year: John Callan has retired (which is maybe just as well for my credit card, as I feel compelled to buy from each of the independents in town), the museum has moved (and young shop employees looked at us blankly when we tried to explain where it used to be; mercifully, one of the Friends of the Festival, Marjorie maybe?, pointed us in the right direction with great care), our beloved hotel is now a seniors' residence (!!!), and there seems to be only one cat left at Watson's. Life marches on.

On the other hand, this year we discovered one new delicious restaurant, thoroughly enjoyed the Festival Exhibition, found a potential hotel replacement, and stumbled upon both the Shakespearean Gardens (how did we miss this before?) and a depressingly fascinating old cemetery at the Anglican church (few people seemed to make it past their early 20s; all listed their English birthplaces). We also saw Stephen Lewis and one of my lovely OPL colleagues, celebrated a birthday four months late at Fellini's, and were serenaded by the kitchen staff at Features.

I can hear you hollering, "what did we see?" Relax already:

• An electrifying production of Mary Stuart (Globe review here), with the inestimable Seana McKenna (she of the ill-fated production of Antony and Cleopatra at Centaur in the '90s - you're just going to have to ask me about that but Seana, if you ever see this, we are still sorry for the actions of others and we think you are amazing). There wasn't a weak actor in this bunch, but Seana McKenna absolutely burned up the stage.
• An ear-bleedingly loud (in a good way) and visually stunning production of Tommy, with especially good performances from Captain Walker and the children playing young Tommy (we hope he had a helmet and padded sides to the garbage can in which he was rolled around). The dancing doctors filled me with inexplicable glee.
• A thoughtful production of Measure for Measure (Globe review here), my favourite Shakespeare, with a cross-dressing Duke (the Globe compares to Hoover), a be-habited Isabella, and a black Mariana - all somewhat "cheap shots" but nonetheless adding new depths to this troubled play (does the Duke's proposal mean he just wants to play dress-up again, observes the Globe review?), as does a magnificent portrayal of Antonio by Tom Rooney. An oft-ignored Bernardine certainly is memorable in this production, even if for sound effects and the sheer intimidation factor more than any possible comparisons to other saved prisoners in scripture or literature. I was very pleased with how they presented the open ending, and curious to see the audience's reaction to the Duke's proposals (they laughed at both of them: this moment is a bit of a litmus test for each generation of theatre-goers in my opinion). The Globe says of the actress playing Isabella that "she’s a zealot who burns bright with belief, but is otherwise none too bright," but I found Carmen Grant did especially well in the final scene, when she struggles greatly with the question of whether to plead with Mariana for Antonio's life. I found myself more moved than I had expected to be by this scene. I prepared / refreshed my memory by reading N. W. Bawcutt's excellent introduction to the Oxford edition of the play. Tragically, the Festival Store doesn't yet have any M4M merch, although it is apparently coming. I would suggest a magnet with "Crafty --- and that's not good!," (as stated by Angelo about Isabella) or a pin with "There's something about Isabella" (a play on the Cameron Diaz movie - perhaps difficult from a copyright perspective?) Both lame in-jokes, at which a total consumer base of approximately four people would laugh, probably.

We had a fantastic time: here's hoping it's not another six years before we are back. I leave you with this interesting examination of the themes of the season.

Requisite swan photo

Read recently: famous people doing bad things, people off (various) rails, housewives, Edith Wharton homages, and reincarnation

I've been on a good run recently for books, except for poor Helen Humphrey's Nocture, which just came in for me when reading it would be scratching a raw wound (another time, another place....)

So, here are some goodies I digested of late:

• A Thousand Pardons by Jonathan Dee: an unintentionally funny choice of literature during the Rob Ford debacle. Corporate lawyer husband Ben betrays wife Helen with a front-page scandal involving an intern in his office and a car accident. Forced to make her own way with her husband in jail, Helen finds that she has a talent for a certain type of PR work: crisis management. An interesting look into the privileged class in America, one troubled but redeemable marriage, and the modern rite of the public apology. As Helen tells a client, “People are quick to judge, they are quick to condemn, but that’s mostly because their ultimate desire is to forgive.” 
• The Age of Hope by David Bergen: Canada Reads, and all that. I loved this book because I loved Hope, with her tender ambitions and her introspective emotions. People are always bothered about books with a female voice (in this case, almost exclusively a female perspective) by a male author. Read this because it's amazing, you'll wish you knew Hope, then realise that you probably do, and not because of the author or the CBC news.
• The Burgess Boys by Elizabeth Strout: Her Olive Kitteridge blew me away at Christmas 2008, when I read it sitting on a chair in my mother's office at church in between services (feeling like I was 12 again). The Burgess Boys, although very different in theme, also delves deeply into human emotions and motivations, family secrets, and small-town life. Strout distinguishes herself here in deftly moving between very distinct, and unknowable to each other, viewpoints.
• The Innocents by Francesca Segal: OK, I read to the end because I was compelled to, and this was an interesting book, but ultimately I am going to have to say that the premise was really the best part (and that may reduce this to a footnote in literary terms)... And you know I read my way through the Women's Prize list every year. The Guardian described this book as having "transport[ed] Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence to NW11." A modern Jewish family plans a wedding, and things go awry.
• Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple: Something about the runaway mother made me think of Veronica Mars, here, and the wry humour and us vs. them mentality didn't help! An oddly charming novel about a traumatised architect, her gifted daughter and successful husband, annoying neighbours who aren't always what they seem, some renegade shrubbery and an Antarctic voyage.
• The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer: Oh, those characters, you know the ones, who you feel are friends and you can't bear to close the book and leave their tight circle. This was one of those books, full of those characters. On my bad days, I am jealous like Jules. On my good days, I am on fire like Figman. What inspired me about this novel was the way the characters invent and re-invent themselves, staying the same and yet changing. A lesson for us all, and we're lucky if we have people like these with us on the journey.
• Life After Life by Kate Atkinson: I'm clearly veering off into crazy now, but I wanted to gobble this novel up. My favourite country and time period, a main character with my grandmother's name, a great fox metaphor and a Hitler assassination attempt? Heck, yes. Someone at the Guardian made a great link from this book to Rushdie's Midnight's Children, in that "to understand just one life, you have to swallow the world." Or, as blogger and reviewer Kerry Clare wrote, "Think Sliding Doors and The Post-Birthday World, though not with parallel lives exactly but an array of them instead, strung together like a garland of paper chain dolls." So, yes, this is a novel about reincarnation, and Ursula, our main character, has a particularly difficult time getting through both the Spanish influenza and World War II (but then, who didn't?). You have to love the characters, the relationships, the familiar walk-ons in variations of themselves, and the "and then what did [he/she] do?" aspect of the plot threads, to not get frustrated as Ursula dies again and again (in what begins to resemble an Edward Gorey-esque efficiency), and I did.

Some things I've been working on recently...

 Ottawa Canal locks, sunset

It's only been a little over two months since I last ruminated on and updated you about work projects, so here we go.

I'm really enjoying my time with OPL's Diversity & Accessibility Services. It's hard to capture how I feel in a few words; people keep asking me how things are going. I have developed a standard line that it's 80% "Amazing! I know what I'm doing! Look, let's implement this!" and 20% "OHMYGOD WHO LEFT ME IN CHARGE? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING!" That's sort of true, but of course it's not the whole story. Some days are about untangling knots, some are about heads-down time to work on reports, some are just lost in a sea of email, meetings and conversations.

Here's an attempt at a recap:

• I brokez the Bookmobiles. Just kidding, I swear. But we were 0 for 2 for awhile last week, and it was ever-so-conveniently also during a gap after our outgoing supervisor left and before our Acting supervisor started (thanks, universe!) The team pulled together admirably well with just me for company (I recall one memorable conversation as I crossed Elgin St. to go to an event), and we actually tried something new. We rented a smaller van for holds pickup and Express checkout from the City's Fleet Services, and, while there were some wrinkles to iron out for when we do it again, it was a great success! When we returned to our regular stop with the Bookmobile this past Friday, several of our new patrons who had discovered us through the rental were there. How cool!
• Yesterday, with a healthy bus with new, rush-order mirrors, we were at the Carnival of Cultures - pic here (check out my new bike, by the way! Her name is Magdalena)
• Our Homebound team forged new territory, providing information sessions at two retirement homes interested in our monthly mini-library visits, and one e-reader workshop.
• Our fantastic outreach librarian visited 8 groups to talk about library services for newcomers.
• Our amazing Accessibility Librarian consulted on accessibility requirements for the Library of the Future website (6 more days! Share your idea!). 
• We're close (I feel like this project is asymptotic right now, but I swear we are almost there...) to rolling out OPL's involvement in the city-wide volunteer database.
• We found a new spot to park in the Riverside South community. The location of the much-beloved (and super-high performing) St. Jerome stop moved as the fire lane at St. Jerome School became official and created some safety hazards for us and our customers. We're now at the Rideauview Community Centre, where we have had a warm welcome from staff, made new friends, and kept our old ones! I'll spare you the gory details, but finding a new spot is no small feat when you weigh 14 tonnes.
• We have two new team members, and will be getting two more soon (not soon enough!): Supervising Librarian, Bookmobile and Volunteer Services / Bibliothécaire superviseur(e), Bibliobus et services des bénévoles, and Librarian, Newcomer Services / Bibliothécaire, Nouveaux arrivants (I'm driving you to The Partnership website only because we're having issues with the Ottawa.ca link).
• We're working on synergies with other teams: for instance, our Newcomer services team and the System-wide programming team, 
• We negotiated our new funding agreement with CIC and are ironing out new terms of reference for our partnership with local agencies serving newcomers to Canada. We're all in a big transition period, with lots of tremendously rich opportunities, but clearing the path is a bit exhausting right now.
• We had 10 fantastic Celebrating Cultures in Our Community events in April, May and June celebrating diversity at the library with everything from musical and dance performances to henna art and tea tastings!
• Five OPL employees, including one from my team, participated in the CCI Community Cup Chase, and two of us were on the 2nd place winning team! There are some great photos on their Facebook page.
• My ever-helpful and thoughtful colleagues assisted me with guest editorial duties for the June 2013 issue of Feliciter (out now!) with the theme of “Changing demographics.” 
• Three of my team accompanied me to a really moving citizenship ceremony; we each hosted a round-table for new Canadians at the event, which was organised by the Institute for Canadian Citizenship. The citizenship judge was Suzanne Pinel, and she was outstanding. Our pic with her is here.
• I starred in an internal staff training video. You'll have to bribe me to see it.
• When holed up in my office, I am working on a few service reviews so we can get a better idea of what happens in our teams, and how we can capitalise on strengths and build in flexibility for the future of library services to diverse clients in the city.

All this, and a half-marathon. Oooh, and my Book Bank-ish project is getting more solid. Expect big news before the end of 2013!

No wonder I'm tired!

Truths, universally acknowledged?

I wonder how Austen would re-write her opening line of P&P these days: maybe ""It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of a good career must be in want of a equality-minded spouse?" The words may have changed, but the rigidity of social convention has not in some ways.

I've been meaning to get down on paper (e-paper?) my thoughts about Sheryl Sandberg for awhile, but frankly haven't had a spare minute and also wanted to be able to give these thoughts enough time to coalesce into something coherent (well, hopefully) and not too personal.

First things first: I am a big poser. I haven't read Sandberg's book yet. But the world being what it is these days, I have been assaulted by interviews with her, and reflections on the book and said interviews, across different media for several weeks. Being a woman in her (almost) mid-thirties (wow, that's scary...), I am right at that point in life that Sheryl seems to be focusing her attention on. My contemporaries and I are at that moment of leaning in, or leaning back. And I am certainly feeling it.

So this is as personal as I am going to get: I have had acquaintances pat my stomach and wish me "all the best" in my future. Friends have been visibly deflated when I tell them I have news and then add that I am the youngest and newest manager at work. I've been told I have "plenty of time" and "not much time left - what are you waiting for?" Media tells me any future kids of mine, with their geriatric parents, will be at higher risk of autism and maybe schizophrenia. Even Margaret Wente chimes in with maternal advice (a sure sign the conversation is taking a turn for batshit-crazy). Meanwhile, I have friends who were told they committed career suicide when they "leaned back" ever so slightly for a bit after returning from maternity leave.

Even Sandberg got slashed: Gloria Steinem points out that some of the backlash against Sandberg might stem from the fact that "for a woman to be loved, she has to fail, and for a man to be loved, he has to succeed. That’s what the gender police say, and it’s inhuman and unfair to both men and women." Sometimes the world bites back either way: Lean in? Get criticised. Lean back so you don't fail miserably? Get criticised.

As Meg Seitz observed, "I'm harder on myself than anyone else could ever be on me [....] Then, it occurred to me: All my confusion had nothing to do with me. It was about other people. It was about what I thought other people would want me to do." Sandberg adds, via her 60 Minutes interview, that women are often pitted against one another, when ultimately "every woman I know feels guilty about the choices she makes."

And so....

I am becoming self-aware enough to know that I am freaking out, and that I do put more pressure on myself than anyone else ever could. I am comforted by the thought that I am not the only one freaking out. I find solace in thoughtful reflections by other women, most notably recently Elsa Walsh's piece in the Washington Post, a piece brought to my attention by an amazing American librarian friend of mine who works as a regional Foreign Service librarian.

Says Walsh about the recent feminist discussion populated by big names such as Marissa Mayer, Anne-Marie Slaughter and Sandberg, "I find it to be a narrow conversation, centered largely on work, as though feminism is about nothing more than becoming a smart and productive employee and rising to the top [....] I have to wonder if Sandberg does not realize that she is going to die someday.There is so little life and pleasure in her book outside of work."

And then I felt like I was doing ok. I don't have it all figured out. I'm not where I thought I would be, or even entirely where I want to be. I'm still on the right path, though. I felt a little less alone. I realised I at least am living a reasonably balanced life so far: yeah, I put in some extra hours, but not regularly and generally for a good cause. I love what I do, every single day. I find meaning and joy in it, and I feel valued and supported. When I leave work at 5 pm (ish), I have people waiting for me who also make me feel valued and supported, in different ways. Having seen good friends and close family die far too young, I am mindful of the fact that I will die some day, and I want to leave more than a few memos for senior management in my wake. I have tremendous role models at home and at work. I have a plan. It may not work out, and it has already changed a few times, but it's there, a work in progress. I am in control of as much as I can be, and I am training myself in habits that I think will stand me in good stead over the years.

Like Walsh, I agree with Sandberg's statement that "marriage is the biggest career decision you will make." Sandberg definitely makes that sound unromantic, but in a sense it's quite accurate: your partner is the one who will have your back, so choose wisely. You can't both be sprinting down the career highway without a rock-solid plan. Maybe you can't both be sprinting at the same time, period.

At the risk of being repetitive, here's a final quote from Walsh's article that really spoke to me, especially the part about planning, and the part about love:

"When it is time for my daughter to make her way through this culture of overwork, I hope she follows some of Sandberg’s advice. I will tell her to work hard and take a seat at the table, speak up and, of course, always negotiate her salary. But I will also tell her to set her own course and follow neither my model nor Sandberg’s [....] I’ll also tell her to make time for herself. Unplug from the grid. Carve out space for solitude. Search for work you love that allows flexibility if you want to have children. And if you do, have them when you’re older, after you’ve reached that point in your career when you are good enough at what you do that you will feel comfortable dialing back for a while. Don’t wait until it’s too late to start planning, because no one else is going to do it for you. And don’t quit completely because, as wonderful as parenthood is, it cannot and will not be your whole life. Learn how to manage conflict, because the greater the level you can tolerate, the more freedom you will retain. Making compromises is a healthy approach to living.  For a woman to say she is searching for a “good enough” life is not failure — it is maturity and self-knowledge.  I’d also tell her, if she marries, to work hard on her relationship. It’s not only much easier than getting divorced, it’s more rewarding and more fun. Love. Full stop. That’s what matters."

Half-marathon run update

Once again (third time is the charm?) I will be participating in the half-marathon on Sunday, May 26th, during this year's Ottawa Race Weekend. As in 2011, I will be running for Medic to Medic, a UK-based charity founded by my amazing cousin, Kate Mandeville.

My fundraising page is here. If you wish to donate, it will be much appreciated by both Kate and me, and the trainee health workers in Malawi and Uganda whose study is supported by Medic to Medic.

My goal is to raise $800 this year - in 2011, I was able to raise $730, which was amazing (and due to the support of many of you - thank you again!). I am confident that together we can get to a nice round number this year! Thanks to my uncle Ralph and many others, I recently passed the halfway mark to this goal.

... and speaking of nice round numbers, my other goal is to beat the 2h time (in 2011, it was 2h 10 minutes). I'm a little less confident about that, but we'll see. As some of you may know (from watching me stretch at the back of the room in meetings), I have been dealing with some hamstring and hip flexor issues resulting from overtraining and (frankly) a lack of core strength. I am battling that by massage therapy (my new RMT is a runner, which really helps) and yoga (I know, I snubbed it for years, but now is the time...), and I am hoping that I will be in race day shape. Yesterday I did a 15k and survived (OK, I took stretching breaks, and it took me 1h 45, but whatever).

Your support, whether via cheering (in person or online), encouragement, group stretching activities (stop by my office anytime, those of you who work with me!) or a donation to Medic to Medic, is greatly, greatly appreciated. Medic to Medic does some amazing work, so please consider donating.

Read recently: now with a stowaway to New France, a WW2 female spy, a mother of a god, an American Civil War vet, a Montreal taxi driver, two ballerinas, Hahvahd grads, and some regular normals

Hi, my name is Alexandra and I have a library book hoarding problem. I totally just returned at least five of these unread. Argh!

I like doing these posts because I get to talk about books that people might not have heard of that I enjoyed but that don't fit together thematically, and also because at times like these, when it seems like I spent an inordinate amount of time staring out the living room window, organising tax information, or watching terrible TV, the list serves to remind me that I am still an OK reader. Whew.

• The Painted Girls by Cathy Marie Buchanan: made me homesick for ballet (not uncommon). Not as great as I was expecting it to be, given the hype. An interesting exploration of Degas's Little Dancer Aged Fourteen using contemporary ideas about  physiognomy. For me, the most compelling aspect of the novel was the relationship between the three sisters and their common love of dance, as each strives to lift themselves and each other from the poverty of 1880s Left Bank Paris through a variety of honest and dishonest means.
• Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese: a book that should be read by all Canadians. Heart-breaking in subject matter and haunting in tone. Wonderfully, simply written.
• The Red Book by Deborah Copaken Kogan: one of my guilty pleasures, a novel exploring the lives of four female Harvard grads as they approach middle age. Did they make the right choices? Are they growing apart from one another? Have they sold out their dreams? The novel is structured around the 5-year updates provided by alumni for the "red book" of the title (srsly, I would kill myself if I had to write these). Funny, dramatic (if implausible!), and entertaining: like reading your high school yearbook if people's thoughts made it in there.
• Speaking From Among the Bones by Alan Bradley: I am a huge fan of Flavia, and this latest volume in the series doesn't disappoint. Again, as with The Painted Girls, but even more so in this case, the relationship between the three de Luce sisters is what absolutely makes this series for me. It's odd, nuanced, and full of real emotion. Speaking ends on a horribly tantalizing cliff-hanger. The next volume could mark a tremendous change in the series, but in a certain sense I think this was needed.
• Above All Things by Tanis Rideout: I have no patience for stories of athletes (hegemonic masculinity, competition is king, etc., etc.) But..... but. This little gem of a novel by a Canadian (!), written from alternate perspectives, traces Mallory's last Everest climb in 1924. One of my favourite time periods? Check? English boarding school ghosts? Check? Female perspective? Check. OK, then, I guess I will give it a shot. I mean, you could write a whole novel just based on this photograph, for heaven's sake. So this is about Ruth and George, and their love, and the choices they both make that lead George up the mountain for the third time, never to return. This is a book both about the consequences for George of his fascination with the climb, and the far-reaching consequences for those he loves and leaves behind.
• The Tinsmith by Tim Bowling: strange little novel about two American Civil War veterans (a Union doctor and an escaped slave) and "the kind of violence that we do" to one another. Many amputations and lots of salmon feature prominently.
• Carnival by Rawi Hage: I enjoyed this more than I thought I would, given the outlines of the plot (such as it it). Which is not to say it wasn't weird: it was.
• Mrs Queen Takes the Train by William Kuhn: another guilty pleasure, this one interesting for its ruminations on strange life choices, be it monarch or royal staff member. This is an odd but lovely book about Queen Elizabeth II escaping Buckingham Palace in a hoodie, in search of cheese, due to a sort of delayed mid-life crisis. The Queen's take on major historical figures, and modern society, including race relations in England, are treasures.
• Whirl Away by Russell Wangersky: great, if wistfully sad, collection of short stories.
• The Tale-Teller by Susan Glickman: historical novel about a young French Jewish girl who dressed as a boy to travel to New France. A latter-day Scheherazade, she weaves a wild tale to the authorities in an attempt to remain in the new world (suck it, Aaron Hart). This book makes you work for the truth, which is in some ways simply as Esther puts it: "I did not run away from my faith. I ran away from the limitations that faith subjected me to."
• The Book of Marvels: A Compendium of Everyday Things by Lorna Crozier: patron recommendation!
• Web of Angels by Lilian Nattel: fascinating exploration into dissociative identity disorder.
• The Art Forger by B. A. Shapiro: meh. I loved the art history and descriptions of the forgery process (a giant oven! Seriously!). I could have slapped the main character in the face for her romantic vacillations and delusions, though.
• Inside by Alex Ohlin: I stayed up until 2am finishing this, because I was so concerned for the main characters' well-being that I could not, in good conscience, close the covers on them. As the Post put it, a cheery little book with "multiple suicides, failed relationships, crumbling families, abortion, a homeless teen and, for good measure, the Rwandan genocide." Oh, and skiing on Mount Royal.
• Code Name Verity by Elizabeth E. Wein: delicious, delicious, delicious. I don't know what else to say. A teenage British spy captured by the Gestapo is forced to write out her confession: another latter-day Scheherazade. With more tense twists in the road than a drive through the French Alps, this one is truly worth the hype it received, and ignore the teen label. It's for any woman who has a best friend she would die for. As my friend Lina put it:
  "Code Name Verity is that rarity among rarities in Young Adult Fiction these days: it is a book about a friendship between women without any bullshit. They are not fighting over a guy. One does not become popular and leave the other behind. Neither is the other’s sidekick- Verity and Maddie are equally skilled in their different professions, they have equally strong personalities. There is no pettiness, no jealousy, no weird obsessions with each other. No need to spend every freaking moment together talking about asinine things (sorry. I obviously have a beef about how women friendships are portrayed in popular media)."
• The Testament of Mary by Colm Toibin: the mother of God suffers from post-traumatic stress, and is potentially held captive, in this oddly moving novelisation of the post-resurrection early church. Mary reflects back on her son's life, presenting a nuanced (sometimes painfully realistic) portrait of Jesus: sometimes selfish and always blindingly charismatic. The disciples don't get off any easier, either. Excellent review here.
  

I will go, if you lead me

OK, fair warning: this is probably the most theological I will be on this blog. I don't want to frighten you away, nor do I want you to think I have delusions of grandeur here, but ... well, here we go.

When I was a child, my parents explained to me that their vocation was a calling. As a result, a small blonde girl could frequently be found kneeling in her father's church, listening quietly (as though to radio static), half-heartedly hoping not to hear the voice of God calling her to the ministry.

So I am back at Main Library (or the tower beside it, like some latter-day bibliographic Rapunzel) starting Monday as the (round 3 with this team!) Acting Manager of Diversity and Accessibility Services for six months. And the normally reserved Alex is willing to admit here, dear readers, that she is a bit of a mess.

I am so totally excited and happy to be with the DAS and SWSI teams again (oh libraries, you have too many acronyms! DAS - see above, my department. SWSI - System-Wide Services and Innovation, our division). I love these people (and I mean staff and customers): they are committed, creative, passionate, collaborative, supportive, interesting people.

But I spent my entire afternoon today packing boxes (that would be corporate "move" #10 - if you count Rideau renos - and I am also on personal move -lucky?- #13 whenever we leave rue Bruyère). Needless to say, if we total that out I am on move #23 and the sound of packing tape makes me want to get into the fetal position (or go home to a glass of wine and some smokehouse almonds. Your call).

Today, I have had two songs running through my head (yoked by violence - sorry, Sam - together...): "Go on," by Basia Bulat (because maybe I "couldn't stand to lose" my lovely team at Carlingwood, however temporarily) and Here I Am, Lord, composed by Dan Schutte. That arrangement isn't my fav, by the way, just the least offensive I could find on YouTube on short notice (why do the right-wing evangelicals record all these videos? Why can't Sarah McLachlan cover more than just the Prayer of St. Francis? Honestly!). To truly feel what I'm feeling, you need to be singing this hymn in the snug chapel of Dio (nearly impossible) accompanied by the spectacular singing voices of both of my parents (50% absolutely impossible) and Davina on guitar (impossible ... debatably?).

Don't worry (and don't click away from this post!). I am still your favourite (very) lapsed Anglican. I'm not going to go all born-again on you. I just can't help that in moments of strong emotion, I cannot deny (three times, or less) my heritage.

"Here I am, Lord. It is I Lord.
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, where you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart."

I am not saying that I feel called to my current role, or any other role I have had. I am not saying that that I believe it is entirely a divine hand at work as I make my way along this personal and professional path. I am not saying it is entirely fate, either, or karma, or Lord Shiva, god of destruction (who lives on my bookshelf, by the way. He's my favourite) or .... whatever or whoever you want to call it. And I will not take the cop-out attitude that Sheryl Sandberg is right to call women on (although I have other issues with some of her logic) that it is not because of my own talents, skills, or agency either. All of these factors have played a role (although Lord Shiva has been lighting a few too many fires for my liking recently).

I believe I am doing the right thing for me right now. It wasn't what I expected to be doing in 2013, but I am so pleased. I am grateful for my years at Rideau Branch and Westmount Library, where pieces of my heart will always beat steadily. I am glad I got to briefly experience life at Cote-St Luc, St Laurent, Vanier and Rockcliffe Park. I was transformed, and empowered, by my time with DAS (rounds 1 and 2) and Carlingwood Branch. I am frightened of the future, but confident that I can face it, with the tremendous support I have from all the people I have walked with so far along this road, and especially with The Husband by my side ("Their happiness was in each other's keeping and both were unafraid." I re-read this quote on our wedding day, and it is unchanging despite everything).

So. Off I go. Four boxes packed for the lovely Materials Delivery team to ferry over to Main Library. Too many goodbyes, a few hugs, many kind words. On Monday, a new calling, some happy reunions, and hopefully kind words and hugs, too.

This post makes me conclude I have been hanging out with my mum far too much (just kidding, Mum!)

Meanwhile, I have my ear cocked, like that little girl on the church kneeler. I am ready. I will go where I am led. I have a lot of work to do. I hold a lot of people in my heart.

(February and) March madness at Carlingwood Branch

I just realised I haven't given you all a recap of the fun and excitement at Carlingwood since last July - that's crazy!

So, without further ado, here's what's been going on recently:

• We founded our Carlingwood’s Senior’s Advisory Group, with many enthusiastic participants and lots of fantastic ideas for the library and for each other. They approve of the acronym, SAG, which bodes well for working together: I always appreciate a sense of humour. 
• Our English Conversation Group on Tuesdays and Saturdays continues to thrive
• Our eReader workshops continue to be popular: we recently helped people with their Playbooks, a Kobo Touch, an mp3 player, a Kobo Glow, an ancient touch-screen laptop, and some iEverythings (iPad mini, iPad, and iPhone). 
• My lovely colleagues filled in for me and allowed a local undergraduate student interested in library school to shadow them on a Saturday.
• I couldn't be there to mentor the student as I was in Montreal, with my lovely colleague Josée Tardif from Collection Management, presenting for the Corporation des bibliothécaires professionnels du Québec (CBPQ) about readers’ advisory (in French). I was really nervous about this for a variety of reasons, but it went really well and people from as far away as Trois-Rivieres and Sorel came to enthusiastically contribute to the session and discuss appeal factors with us! 
• We did two great inter-generational programs during March Break: Techno Buddies (11 Teen Volunteers worked with 6 older Adults using the following technology: E-mail, Facebook, Powerpoint, Twitter, Linkedin, Microsoft Word, and iPads) and Bridging the Generations (6 Teens highlighted 5 iPads to 17 Adults and 6 children using Rosemount’s outreach iPads). These were really popular, and had many touching moments. One teen whop was helping a newcomer Senior helped him take a picture with the iPad to send to his grand-daughter in Thailand. This patron wept with gratitude, and I wept when I read Courtney's report of this.



this little dude from the Museum of Nature
(a waxy monkey frog)
is clearly plotting world domination...

• I attended my last OPLA RA committee meeting on March 8th. Yes, you read that right. My stepping down from the committee was less of a personal choice and more of an organisational shift at OPL, and I have very mixed feelings about it. Part of the hard part of blogging these days is that so much of what happens at work for me now is un-bloggable: coaching and disciplinary work, especially, but a lot of working with employees is hard to generalise without compromising someone's confidentiality, or letting personal biases show. Lest this sound like the text is becoming too Barthesian, here, with the unreadable source etc., let's use the Mark Twain frog analogy that I have been employing with my team to tell them when I'm having a tough day or need some space:
              "If it's your job to eat a frog, it's best to do it first thing in the morning.
              And If it's your job to eat two frogs, it's best to eat the biggest one first."
  Recently, I have been eating some large and crunchy frogs, some I have adopted and some that have just hopped on over into my space uninvited, and let's just leave it at that.
• The CLA Book of the Year for Children award jury, of which I am chair, chose the winner and honour books for the 2013 award... Stay tuned for the announcement on April 15th, and check out the shortlist in the meantime.
• I had a bunch of meetings related to our upcoming accessibility upgrades. I'll be blogging for OPL about this soon, but basically we are closed Monday April 29 – Friday May 3, open Saturday and evenings the following week with limited access to certain areas, and resuming regular hours on Saturday, May 11. The work will include a new ramp (re-graded) with new paving stones and handrail, new concrete curbs and stairs, an additional handicapped parking spot and new paint in the lot, a new bus stop pad and bike rack pad, work on the accessible washrooms (new toilets, sinks, etc), improved elevator buttons (don't ask), and a new "green" drinking fountain. Not a ton of stuff, but some wonderful and much-needed improvements. Chaos will ensue when our front entrance and parking lot are both n/a during the work, so I am looking forward to lots of fun and excitement next month.
• The Teen Tech Commercial was released on March 13th. Lots of glowing comments about Carlingwood’s TAG. Here’s the link for the commercial.
• Did I mention our TAG is great? Look what they did for the SAG:

Bookmobile news: feel-good story of the day

Saw this, and it deserved its own post (aside from the Bookmobile news round-ups which are few and far between these days):

At A Pakistani Mobile Library, Kids Can Check Out Books, And Hope
""And I felt, in what way can we bring these kids back to the beauty of life, to the beauty of future, to be of value to fellow mankind and to themselves and to the country," he says. "And I started thinking in what way can we help the children." Malik felt books were the way to broaden children's minds, to introduce them to a whole world of subjects, and to help build tolerance for others. But he discovered that virtually none of the public schools in and around Islamabad had libraries [....] So Malik decided to take books to the children."

Seen reading on OC Transpo

Greenboro O-Train Station, sunset

• L'homme inquiet par Henning Mankell
• The menu for 3 Brasseurs (this was probably when they were interviewing for staff)
  (P.S. Processed cheese slices on a cheeseburger, 3 Brasseurs? Really? Quel dommage...)
• something by Steve Berry
• Fire from heaven by Mary Renault
• an issue of Teen titans
• Me:  The Art Forger by B. A. Shapiro (Divas pick)

News round-up

"Courtship Dance" carved by Koji Kareki of Japan, Winterlude 2013

• Thought-provoking: Quiet, Please!, by the Annoyed Librarian:
  "I guess a lot of librarians get bored with all the quiet. Not me. That’s one of the best things about being a librarian, walking into a building that isn’t rife with all the noise unavoidable on the street and in most public places. The noise of everyday life is getting louder, and without quiet libraries will be almost inescapable. But some librarians are too busy rocking to notice, or maybe they just don’t like silence because silence breeds contemplation and they don’t want to contemplate their lives."
• Celebrating: The Citizen Lab wins the 2013 CLA Advancement of Intellectual Freedom in Canada Award (which reminds me, save the date: Saturday, March 2, 2013 - Censored out loud event in Ottawa, the fifth annual local event to celebrate Freedom to Read Week!)
• Inspiring: The Ottawa Human Library event (I'm so proud of my colleagues, and Rideau Branch patron Sean!)
 

 
• Informative: "20 questions: Are you ready to be a manager?" from Globe Careers
• Disturbing (three times over): some seriously offensive blonde prejudice embedded in the (justified) rage over the new Anne cover? "This "updated" version of Anne looks like a new addition to Jersey Shore and probably spends more time partying than re-enacting book scenes with her friends." Hey now, no need to make sweeping generalisations! See also: re-branding The Bell Jar (but hey, you have to laugh, right?)
• Heart-wrenching: "Prison and Libraries: Public Service Inside and Out," from Library Journal (just try to scroll past the "Shakespeare in Shackles" picture of inmates in segregation without breaking down).
  "Prisoners read and discuss the plays. Inmates, many of whom lack strong academic records, often warm up to the challenge of learning the plays written by the intellectually demanding playwright. More than that, Bates asserts, many prisoners discover, sometimes to their surprise, that the questions posed by Shakespeare’s centuries-old plays may be more relevant than many would assume [....] Frequently, inmates will rewrite the plays to reflect their own changing perspectives. For example, Hamlet may spare Claudius’s life as prisoners reconsider their own thirst for ­vengeance.  Not every prisoner can be changed via humanities intervention, but Bates has met those who say they have not killed thanks in large part to exposure to works like Shakespeare’s plays. She says there should be a place for arts and literature programs in prisons and jails and their libraries."
• What I have been up to: reading the last of the 60+ books under consideration for the soon-to-be-announced CLA Book of the Year for Children shortlist, piloting some de-centralised projects for our Homebound Services department, working on some interesting new ideas for our Bookmobile service review (while the team maintains service valiantly while one bus is off the road waiting for parts), and entering a dialogue about our tremendously worthwhile Library Settlement Partnerships.

... and I thought I might have run out of rant posts....

But no.

Says England's Communities Minister Don Foster (via):

"Libraries play a vital role in keeping this going by bringing people together across communities, helping improve literacy for children and adults alike and developing a love of reading for millions of people."

Libraries don't improve literacy: librarians improve literacy.

Oh, and seriously? That picture? You're *totally* going to get a library that looks like that if it's volunteer-run. I bet they raised those fancy beams themselves, right?

< / end rant >

Happy blogoversary to me!

It's hard to believe that it was four years ago today that I published the first post on this blog. It seems like it was yesterday, in one sense, and so long ago in another. Some things in the blog, and in life, have stayed the same (best of the year lists; a passion for public library service and a wry sense of humour - I hope!) and some have changed (fewer awards announcements since these seem to be cross-posted everywhere; my job title, of which I have gone through at least four in four years!)

I find it infinitely tiresome (and terribly unoriginal) when bloggers apologise for their absence on the blogosphere, but here we go: I have been remiss lately! To catch you all up, well, it was the holidays, then I caught the Evil Flu From Hell, and then in the middle of the EFFH, I accepted an opportunity to be an Acting Manager with OPL for the next few weeks. The job is with my old team at Diversity and Accessibility Services, which is great.

So things have been weird: that's life, you know? Stuff gets thrown at you, good and bad, and you make the best of the bad stuff and are grateful for the good stuff. Sometimes, when you are lucky, great things fall into your lap (hopefully because you've put something good out into the universe) just when you need a little boost. Last week, I was called brave and resilient (I think resilient is my new favourite word) with respect to two different situations, work and personal, and tons of colleagues stopped by my new office or dropped me a note to wish me well on this new project. People are pretty amazing. Or, to be more precise, I am so incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by amazing people.

Right now my work brain is swimming with ideas, and projects, and things to deal with, and things to learn about. It's so cool to have an opportunity to shake up my thoughts, and delve into some new (or new/old) aspects of library service... and now, more than ever, my job involves the people on our team, and supporting them to the best of my abilities. It's fun to try to pick up the threads ... and, for a type A personality, kind of crazy to get a handle on it all in a few weeks! I have to keep talking myself back into work mode and out of freak-out-and-bite-off-more-than-I-can-chew mode.

So hopefully that's a sufficiently vague, mixed-metaphor reflective blogaversary post for you. Thanks for sticking it out on the wild ride so far, and stay tuned for more. As my uncle would say, it's been real.

Mark your literary calendars for the first half of 2013!

Here are some things I am looking forward to in the first half(-ish) of the coming year:

• The Last Runaway by Tracy Chevalier (January)
• The Painted Girls by Cathy Marie Buchanan (January)
• American Isis: The Life and Art of Sylvia Plath by Carl Rollyson (January)
• The Burgess Boys by Elizabeth Strout (March)
• Bone and Bread by (Montrealer!) Saleema Nawaz (March)
• Nocturne by Helen Humphreys (March)
• A Beautiful Truth by Colin McAdam (March)
• Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg (March)
• Z by Therese Anne Fowler (March)
• The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer (April)
• The Dark by Lemony Snicket and Jon Klassen (April)
• All That Is by James Salter (April)
• Life After Life by Kate Atkinson (April)
• Maya’s Notebook by Isabel Allende (April)
• The Woman Upstairs by Claire Messud (April)
• Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (May)
• And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini (May)
• Big Brother by Lionel Shriver (June)
• The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes (June)
• The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (June)
• Night Film by Marisha Pessl (August)

Favourite children's and teen books of 2012

“Once there was a girl / an all-alone girl / in her own little bed / in her own little room / in her own little castle / who didn’t have a dragon for a friend.” 

This is going to be the saddest list ever. Nonetheless, here are the books for kids and teens that floated like jetsam past my desk this year....

Disclaimer: other more recent chapter books are embargoed because they are being considered for the CLA Book of the Year for Children and, as such, I cannot comment about them at this time.

1. Lovabye Dragon by Barbara Joosse: a lonely dragon with an overbite? What's not to love? See above.
2. Plant a Kiss by Amy Krouse Rosenthal (she of Duck! Rabbit! fame)
3. Sam et Julia dans la maison des souris by Karina Schaapman: This gem of a book is too beautiful to miss, even if you can't read the text. If you, like me, spent a childhood enraptured by dollhouses (my two favourites were the real-life one in Windsor Castle and the one in Beatrix Potter's The tale of two bad mice), this book is for you.
   
4. Oh No, Little Dragon! by Jim Averbeck: do I have a dragon thing? Perhaps! Little Dragon loses his fire-breathing ability when playing in the bathtub. Will he get it back? The suspense is killing me!
5. The Unforgotten Coat by Frank Cottrell Boyce: I did make a vague effort to stay current with international book awards news, and as a result read this winner of the Guardian children's fiction prize. An intriguing mix of Polaroids of unknown origin and a story about a mysterious immigrant family who are being pursued by a demon.
6. Howl by Karen Hood-Caddy: This book, and the next one on the list, are my under-appreciated underdogs from the 2012 CLA BOYCA reads. Howl actually appeared on our shortlist last year: this is a nuanced portrait of a young girl learning to cope with grief after the death of her mother, and a whole family's story of coming together to make something meaningful out of loss. Here's a review from Q&Q.                  
7. Saving Armpit by Natalie Hyde: In a world in which quality middle grade books are often few and far between, this is an overlooked solid Canadian title about a letter-writing campaign undertaken by a group of small-town children in order to save their local post office (and thus the postmaster, coach of their local baseball team).   
8. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green: again, the hype penetrated my consciousness, and I had to pick this one up. Friends and colleagues disagree over this one: someone pointed out that teens don't talk like they do in this book (fair enough!) and someone else, like me, found this book both hilarious and tragic. For those who grew up with Lurlene McDaniel (oh yes, I went there!), this is how a book about a kid with a terminal illness was meant to be written. Green knocks it out of the park.
9. Grave Mercy: His Fair Assassin, Book 1 by Robin LaFevers: Meet your new Katniss.
10. Monoceros by Suzette Mayr: Technically published as an adult novel, but I am including it here because I feel it has a real audience with teens, especially as a year filled with truly tragic stories of teen suicides due to bullying draws to a close. This book has a passage, narrated by the victim's mother, of such utter beauty that I think it might well be one of my favourite scenes ever. As a truly Canadian story of a teen suicide, told from different perspectives, this is another under-appreciated title. Read a review here. 

Previous favourite children's book lists: 2011, 2010, 2009, 2008.
Previous favourite teen book lists: 2011, 2010, 2009, 2008.

Favourite adult books of 2012

Happy New Year!

I read 93 adult books in 2012, up from 52 in 2011. My changing professional role was reflected in the fact that I only read 28 children's and teens books (compared to 77 in 2011).

In 2013, I hope to keep increasing those adult numbers, and since this is my last year as a judge for the CLA Book of the Year for Children, make the children's books I read great ones that I choose myself for a change! It has been a great joy to be on the BOYCA committee, but I will not miss the speed-reading of 60-odd children's novels by Canadian authors with varying degrees of talent.

Without further ado, here it is, my pretties: the top 10 of 2012!

1. Gold by Chris Cleave: Chris’s writing has a way of grabbing you firmly by the heart and pulling, hard. The protagonists in this story are three Olympic bike racers, getting a bit long in the tooth in their early 30s and facing their last Olympics (London 2012). Despite not being at all interested in competitive sport, I could not put this down. There is much about the competitive spirit of world-class athletes in here, but there is also a love triangle, a child struggling with cancer, and a sensitive exploration of the choices we make in life, and the paths we choose and can also change. There are some absolute gems of phrasing and emotion in here. Read it. Some readers have compared the relationship in this novel between two strong women as reminiscent of Atwood’s The Robber Bride (my favourite of hers), and that is somewhat apt. For other heart-wrenching tales, however (for you masochists who like to cry while reading), I would recommend Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones or The Tower, the Zoo and the Tortoise by Julia Stuart.
2. Joseph Anton by Salman Rushdie: You may or may not know that I heart Rushdie, but we have  a fraught relationship. On the one hand, Imaginary Homelands changed my life, Midnight's Children acted as a closing bookend of sorts to my thesis about E. M. Forster, and I will watch any interview / attend any reading Rushdie gives, because I find him a fascinating and erudite speaker whose perspective I often find completely refreshing. On the other hand, I didn't finish The Satanic Verses, and have a low threshold for some of Rushdie's bombast. So, I embarked on Joseph Anton unsure how we were going to get along. Turns out I couldn't put it down, even if sometimes it drove me crazy (which probably encapsulates how I feel about Rushdie overall, frankly). I didn't mind the 2nd person narrative, found his unravelling of the Gordian Knot of his time under the fatwa deeply moving, vehemently agreed with many of his conclusions and observations about Western society's complex relationship with Islam, and found his stories about the supportive friendships that sustained him during his time in hiding (including a lovely one about a trip to Canada, involving being hugged by Bob Rae and serenaded by Adrienne Clarkson) compelling (I kept following the Husband around saying, "Listen to this!"). As a thank you of sorts to those who stood by him, and a statement about East/West relations during a tumultuous time in modern history, this is a tremendous book. As an indictment of those who abandoned, or outright criticised him, this book is less effective: Rushdie doesn't mince words, and in many cases rightly so, but sometimes a more unflattering spite seeps out of the pages, which is a pity. This is still an absolute must-read, however. Frankly, it's hard to begrudge him a little spite sometimes.
3. 
   Astray by Emma Donoghue: These stories are all about people on the move: between identities, places, or lives. I read this on the train, which was unintentionally perfectly appropriate. All of the stories are based on real-life people, and Donoghue follows each tale with a description of the actual events, whether it be a newpaper clipping about a female con artist or a series of letters between a husband and wife separated by an ocean (that story made me cry). The Guardian used the word frustrating when talking about the brevity of these tales; that is something that often bothers me in short stories, but here I felt that each story was so perfectly crafted that I didn't mind. Plus, frankly, I am happy to see that the pre-Room Donoghue is still around.
4. South Riding by Winifred Holtby: see review here. Readers who enjoyed Emma Brown (completed from Charlotte Brontë’s draft by Clare Boylan), Muriel Spark or our own massively-underappreciated Gwethalyn Graham will enjoy this novel.
5. Shine shine shine by Lydia Netzer: see review here. 

6. Sleeping funny by Miranda Hill: Well, I already loved Miranda for Project Bookmark, and now I just love her extra. These short stories all have an element of the magical, or just plain odd, about them, from a suspicious neighbour who may just have dropped out of a fairy tale, to a group of children who are afflicted with visions of their own conception (some surprises there!). These stories made me laugh out loud, and also cry. Warning: the one that won the Journey Prize was actually my least-favourite in the collection.... 
7. This is how you lose her by Junot Diaz: no, your eyes do not deceive you. I, an avowedly lukewarm reader of short stories, have chosen three collections in my top 10 this year. In October, I admitted that I was, indeed, oddly sympathetic with the rat narrator of this collection, especially for someone who spent four years with her very own serial philanderer. These stories, about the Yunior you may be familiar with from Drown, will break your heart as they draw you into the flawed but somehow tender heart of a troubled young man.
8. The grief of others by Leah Hager Cohen: Ricky Ryrie blames her husband John for a lot, but she blames herself for more, in this story of family secrets and new beginnings. The Ryries, parents to two living children and one recently-deceased baby boy, are struggling to move forward through their grief when John’s older daughter from a previous relationship shows up on their doorstep unexpectedly. Cohen’s writing gave me goose bumps; speaking about the Ryries’ dead child, she writes, “He wore, during his short life, a white cotton shirt with a single covered side snap, a white flannel receiving blanket, and a white cotton cap. … He was given two diaper changes, the second proving unnecessary.” It’s easy to see how this gem of a book made it on the Orange Prize longlist. . It has been a long time since I have rooted so strongly for a young girl, as I did for the Elizabeth “Biscuit” Ryrie, who we first meet when she has stolen a library book about funeral rites and falls into the Hudson River after a ritual for her dead baby brother goes wrong. Everyone in this book is barely coping with their grief (over the baby but also over their own personal tragedies and changing relationships with one another), but the story is somehow still gentle, hopeful and beautiful. If the past is a foreign country, so too is the grief of others, even those closest to us. This one is for readers who enjoy Joyce Carol Oates, Julia Glass, Kim Edwards’s The Memory Keeper’s Daughter or Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout.
9. Everybody has everything by Katrina Onstad: Onstad captures perfectly the human spirit that lurks below a veneer of suits, heels, polished front doors, and shiny car windows in downtown Toronto. Ana and James are one such couple: half suit, half wrinkled artsy type, muddling towards early middle age childless and drifting apart (maybe). Into this mix falls small Finn, the young child of their good friends, left in their care after a car accident that claims Finn’s father and leaves his mother in a coma. Thrust into temporary parenthood (they wonder if Robert Crumb is appropriate bedtime reading as it’s the only illustrated book they have), Ana and James re-think their roles in their marriage, and the choices they have made without always realizing something was chosen. This is a character novel, and, to be frank without giving too much away, it’s about James wanting Finn desperately and Ana discovering that she doesn’t. Sure to divide readers, Ana’s struggles will hopefully spark meaningful book club discussions about what modern women can, or should, want for themselves.
10. Gillespie and I by Jane Harris: Also on the Orange Prize longlist, this jewel of a book perfectly captures the voice of its Scottish, Victorian-era (unreliable) narrator, 35-year-old nosy spinster Harriet Baxter. Harriet, living on her own and with a small income that allows her to be a patron of the arts (as she would put it), endeavors to set the story straight for us about her relationship with the members of the Gillespie family, to whom a great tragedy has befallen (although it takes Harriet awhile to spit out the details). By the time she is out with it, however, her story begins to look more like something by Wilkie Collins than the gentle memoirs of a thoughtful family friend. Interspersing the story of her friendship with dashing young artist Ned Gillespie with her present life as an elderly woman in a mysterious stand-off with a possibly deranged maid, Harriet keeps readers under her thumb, revealing only what she wants us to see – but with an occasional slip. This is chilling, masterful, psychological drama at its best. For fans of Iain Pears’s The Portrait or Sebastian Barry’s The Secret Scripture.

Previous lists:

• Favourite adult books of 2011
• Favourite adult books of 2010