bekahcubed

Categories Book Reviews

Book Review: “The Summer I learned to Fly” by Dana Reinhardt

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After my “eh” review of The FitzOsbornes in Exile (which I liked but didn’t necessarily feel was award-winning) and my definitively negative review of The Big Crunch, you might be thinking that I’ve gotten into a negative rut and won’t ever be content with a YA nominee.

But that’s because I hadn’t yet reviewed Dana Reinhardt’s The Summer I learned to Fly.

Thirteen-year-old Birdie has great plans for the summer. She’ll work long hours in her mom’s cheese shop, helping Nick (her mom’s employee and her secret crush) make pasta. She’ll take care of her pet rat Hum and visit with her mom’s other employee Swoozie.

This was her family after all, an odd mix of employees from her Mom’s cheese shop. It wasn’t that Birdie doesn’t have friends–she enumerates all six friends she’s had throughout her life–it’s just that she’s always felt more like a “one”. And her current three friends are all gone at elite summer camps anyway. It’s a good thing she still has Hum and Nick and Swoozie and Mom.

Except that Nick gets himself a girlfriend (and has an accident), Mom starts hiding things, and Hum gets lost.

When Hum gets lost, Birdie bikes back to the shop to try to find him. There, she discovers that Mom isn’t at the shop late as she’d told Birdie. And she discovers Emmett Crane.

Emmett is hanging out by the dumpster feeding Hum some discarded cheese. He’s a skittish fellow who reveals little but nevertheless becomes something of a friend.

And so begins the summer she learned to fly.

Unlike much YA fiction, this is not a sensational story. It’s not a romance and doesn’t include sex. There’s no violence or otherwise aberrant behavior. Birdie’s family is unusual-ish, but not dysfunctional (her father died while she was very young and her Mom is not quite sure how to tell her 13 year old daughter that she’s now dating.) Birdie complains about her mother and occasionally rebels, but in the ordinary (at least ordinary for my highly-functional family) way. Even as she complains, Birdie still loves her mother–and the author does not portray the mother as being a tyrant or an out-of-the-loop oldie.

The Summer I learned to fly is a delightful, moving coming-of-age story–and one that I highly recommend. This one had better be on the short-list, cause it’s a definite winner.

Rating:5 Stars
Category:YA Fiction
Synopsis:Birdie learns about friendship, dreams, and believing in miracles the summer she meets a homeless boy behind her mother’s cheese shop.
Recommendation: A sweet, appropriately-told coming of age tale that’s one of my picks for the YA shortlist (if I were a judge, that is!)

Categories Book Reviews

Book Review: “The Big Crunch” by Pete Hautman

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According to the book jacket:

“Jen and Wes do not ‘meet cute’. They do not fall in love at first sight. They do not swoon with scorching desire. They do not believe that they are instant soul mates destined to be together forever. This is not that kind of love story.”

Except that it pretty much is.

So Wes doesn’t start off considering Jen to be double-t-hott and Jen dates Wes’s dorky friend before she and Wes start going out–but those are mere footnotes to what this story really is–a sappy love story between high-schoolers.

Now here’s the thing. I love chick-flicks, I enjoy romances, I like love stories (especially sappy ones.)

What I do not like is sappy high school love stories.

Why? Because I think high school is the wrong time to be “falling in love”. And I especially think high school is the wrong time to be having sex.

Which is why when Wes and Jen started having sex (or seemed to me to be getting close to it), I shut this book for good.

I don’t need to be filling my mind with that sort of trash–and there was nothing redeeming in the plot to make me skip over the raunchy bits and keep going.

This may have been a Cybils nominee, but it’s certainly not a winner in my book.


**Side Note: The title “The Big Crunch” comes from a scientific theory Jen’s science teacher teaches as fact–that the universe expanded in the “Big Bang” and will someday contract in a “Big Crunch” in preparation for another Big Bang. While I wouldn’t be surprised at this being taught in a high school (since high school science is generally around 15 years behind true science), it still managed to tick me off that it was presented as truth in this book. You see, that theory, known as the oscillating universe theory, was devised in an attempt to avoid the most obvious implications of the Big Bang–the necessity of an infinitely powerful uncreated Creator who is outside our space-time continuum. Problem is, there’s absolutely no evidence for an oscillating universe–which is why today’s astronomers and cosmologists have, by and large, abandoned this theory (the honest folk for what one astronomer called “the first church of the God of the Big Bang”-generally Christianity; the naturalist ideologues for unfalsifiable theories such as multiverse theory.**

Rating:0 Stars
Category:YA Fiction
Synopsis:Wes and Jen meet, are attracted to one another, begin sleeping together. Imagine that.
Recommendation: Don’t read it. It’s trash with nothing whatsoever with which to redeem itself.

Categories Book Reviews

Book Review: “The FitzOsbornes in Exile” by Michelle Cooper

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This time around, I was determined to end up with the real Cybils nominees, so I compiled my list and checked what the library had prior to taking my trip into Lincoln.

Either my technique was completely wrong the last time I went, or my library is better at having new YA than Middle-Grade fiction, but I ended up with a treasure trove this visit.

Which didn’t mean that I didn’t spend some time second-guessing myself once I got into The FitzOsbornes in Exile.

“I thought that all the YA I’d gotten this trip was Cybils nominees–but this can’t be a Cybils nominee, can it?”

It’s not that The FitzOsbornes in Exile is bad. In fact, it’s the sort of book I really enjoy reading. It just isn’t, well, it isn’t very literary.

The book is written as the diary of teenaged Princess Sophia FitzOsborne of Montmaray. She, her brother and sister, her cousin, and their retainer (who happens to be the illegitimate son of the late king) managed to escape to England after the Nazi takeover of Montmaray–thus the “in exile”.

Sophie is a rather ordinary girl–but the rest of the family is quite extraordinary. Her cousin, the late king’s daughter, is a strident Bluestocking and socialist whose beautiful face and figure makes her seem the perfect debutante, but whose unregulated tongue often creates trouble at dinner parties. Sophie’s brother, the new king, is a rather worthless chap who cares nothing for his studies–and nothing for the many women his aunt keeps throwing at him. Henrietta, Sophie’s little sister, is a perfect hellion, causing even the sternest governesses to pull out their hair.

The plot, I suppose, is about how the children try to get the British government to assist them in getting Montmaray back. But the plot takes back stage to the gently-moving anecdotes of crazy cooks, deranged would-be-assasins, red journalists, and nervous ladies maids.

Like I said, it’s not very literary. It is neither plot-driven nor character-driven. I’m not sure that it’s driven at all. Instead, it’s a meandering float through appeasement-happy Britain in the calm before the storm.

I enjoyed it, but it’s nothing particularly spectacular. I’m still rather surprised that it was nominated for the Cybils.

**Content Note: The young king of Montmaray is a practicing homosexual, which plays a rather significant role in the interpersonal relationships within the story. Nevertheless, there is nothing sensational or explicit about the discussion of homosexuality–or anything else–in this novel. The most “YA” part of the novel is when Sophie has tea with a newly married friend and is invited to ask whatever she wants to know. The record of the conversation is as follows: “Well! Thanks to Julia, I now know how married women avoid having babies. Suffice to say it requires a round rubber object that one has to obtain from a doctor, except doctors refuse to hand them over or even discuss the issue till immediately before one’s wedding day. The whole business sound horribly messy, not at all romantic.” So, yeah, not much on the racy front (which is a great relief to this particular reader!)**

Rating:3 Stars
Category:YA Fiction
Synopsis: A mostly-teenaged royal family attempts to interest the British government in intervening in continental affairs after the Nazis take over Montmaray.
Recommendation: A fluffy sort of novel almost reminiscent of Meg Cabot’s Princess Diaries, only vastly cleaner and with a bit of pre-WW2 history thrown in. A good choice for light reading.

Categories The Week in Words

WiW: Rooting Out Bitterness

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In her Laudable Linkage last week, Barbara linked to this article on how to serve “The Singles” in your church.

As a single woman in the church, I appreciate McCulley’s advice to church–and greatly appreciate those individuals who serve singles as McCulley suggests.

For me, one specific section stood out:

“Don’t be afraid to challenge bitterness.

Extended singleness is a form of suffering. There is an appropriate time for mourning with those who mourn. This is especially true for women who see the window of fertility closing on them without the hope of bearing children. Don’t minimize the cumulative years of dashed hopes for unmarried adults.

That said, we single adults need loving challenges when we have allowed a root of bitterness to spring up and block our prayers to God, our fellowship with others, and our service to the church. deferred hopes cannot be allowed to corrode our thankfulness for the gift of salvation.”

~Carolyn McCulley

This section is a double-edged sword. It comforts the single person with the realization that mourning is okay, that sometimes singleness is suffering. But at the same time, it challenges the single person to root out bitterness.

I love this.

I love those who remind me of this.

Those who recognize the suffering that is sometimes present in singleness, who truly mourn with me as I mourn–and those who speak truth into my suffering. Those who remind me of the riches of God poured out on me in Christ Jesus. Those who remind me of the sovereignty of God in all circumstances. Those who encourage me to fix my eyes on Christ instead of on my suffering. Those who come alongside to encourage and to exhort.

“Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another…Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.”
~Ephesians 4:25, 31

The Week in WordsDon’t forget to take a look at Barbara H’s meme “The Week in Words”, where bloggers collect quotes they’ve read throughout the week.

Categories Memes

The Name I Call Myself

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Just a bit of silliness found on Facebook…

Everyone has 6 names

  • Your Real Name: Rebekah Marie Menter
  • Your Detective Name: Black Cow
  • Your Soap Opera Name: Marie Dreams
  • Your Star Wars Name: Menmar Reter
  • Your Superhero Name: Charcoal San Realto
  • Your Goth Name: Black Apollo

Erm… Maybe not. A little black/gray heavy.

Actually, I have quite a few names, only one of which is listed above (hopefully, you can figure out which is which :-P)

Other names by which I’m known include:

  • Bekah
  • Bekahcubed (imagine that)
  • Bekahbekahbekah
  • Becky Jane (or Becky Jo)
  • Bek
  • Menter-bek
  • Bekah-lekah-high-techa-sinky-soah-a-la-Anne
  • Buns of Steel
  • The pediatrician (from one of my residents: “I need to talk to the pediatrician about what I’m eating!”)

Wanna play yourself?

The key is:

  • Your Real Name: Duh
  • Your Detective Name: Favorite color & Favorite animal
  • Your Soap Opera Name: Middle name & Street you live on (of course, I didn’t actually use the street I live on–I’m not giving out info like that)
  • Your Star Wars Name: first 3 letters of last name, first 2 letters of middle name, first 2 letters of first name, last three letters of last name
  • Your Superhero Name: 2nd favorite color & Favorite drink
  • Your Goth Name: Black & the name of one of your pets

And even if you don’t want to play that game, I’d love to hear some of your nicknames.

Categories Everyday Life, Following Christ

Swearing Oaths

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“Will you swear to be my friend for ever and ever?” demanded Anne eagerly.

Diana looked shocked.

“Why, it’s dreadfully wicked to swear,” she said rebukingly.

“Oh no, not my kind of swearing. There are two kinds, you know.”

“I never heard of but one kind,” said Diana doubtfully.

“There really is another. Oh, it isn’t wicked at all. It just means vowing and promising solemnly.”

“Well, I don’t mind doing that,” agreed Diana, relieved. “How do you do it?”

~From L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables

Anne convinced Diana that this kind of swearing was okay–but, in fact, this was the complete opposite of Christ’s words.

“Again you have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’ But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not take an oath by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil.”

~Matthew 5:33-37

Christ intended that His followers not swear oaths–because He wanted their word to be their oath. He intended that every word from our mouths be truthful, and that we do everything we say we will do.

So what happens when a Christian swears an oath–say, that her hair belongs to her husband, that he can do with it what he wishes?

Then say a dozen years passes and her husband is nowhere in sight.

She’s been doing little with her hair, waiting for that husband to come along and tell her what to do.

Then say a hairdresser friend comes along, points out her split ends, and offers to cut and layer her hair.

What should she do?

She’d sworn an oath, she’d made a vow–not under compulsion, but willingly. Her hair belongs to her husband–the husband she doesn’t have.

How would he have her care for her hair?

And there we have it.

Care for her hair.

Surely he would have her care for her hair. Not leave it to develop split ends and ragged edges. Not ignore it until he shows up to give her cues.

He would have her care for it, right?

And that is why I am resolved. I will take Gena’s offer and let her cut and layer my hair. I will care for it.

Husband of mine, should you wish any different, speak now or forever hold your peace.

Lest any of my readers also be Facebook friends and be fearing that I am making my decision in reaction to a resident’s ill-judged attempt to tell me what to do with my hair (I may not know who my husband will be, but I do know with certainty that it will not be him)–I am not. I had already made my decision and written this post prior to that conversation.

Though it does help to know that at least three of my aunts are in favor of the chop :-)

Categories None

And now for something completely different…

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Have you seen this video by my cousin?

Okay. So he’s not my cousin (Bummer for me).

But he is my cousin’s brother (Yay for me).

Either way, Mike Tompkins is a pretty amazing artist.

And guess what?

If you know me (and of course you do), you can claim connection to him too!

And through him to Ellen Degeneres.

As in, “So I know this girl whose cousin’s brother was on the Ellen Degeneres Show–which means that there are only six degrees separating me from…” (Insert your own celebrity–pretty much all of them have been on Ellen right? I’m checking out my most important celebrities: Colin Firth, check. Hugh Grant, check. Meg Ryan, check. Jennifer Aniston, check. Ooo-looks like no Peter Jackson. Anyway, that’s okay for me since I have only four degrees to Ellen, so I can go two steps beyond. For you, well, sorry.)

And now you’ve completely got me pegged. I am an old-school chick flick watcher. Or maybe those people were popular during my brief stint of People magazine reading. Or maybe I just have a horrible time remembering celebrity names and that was the best I could do. So sue me. But don’t forget that I’m practically related to Brad Pitt. Which means it might be a PR nightmare to try to sue me. Just sayin’.

Categories Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: What I got at Goodwill (and what I left behind)

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I have many irrational fears in life that are unlikely to come true (can anyone say being hung by my bellybutton?)–but I have other fears that I never realize until they come true and I panic.

Losing a notebook is one of those sorts of fears.

It happens every time I lose a notebook. My breathing becomes shallow, my heart starts racing, my blood pressure rises. I play over the contents of the notebook a hundred times, run through a thousand ideas of what might have happened that it’s lost.

Thankful Thursday banner

This week I’m thankful…

…for the shoe rack I got at Goodwill
I’ve wanted one of these for quite a while, but everything I looked at was either flimsy or expensive. I briefly toyed with making my own out of PVC pipe (from an idea on Pinterest)–but I discovered that 6″ diameter PVC pipe isn’t cheap, so I finally caved and added a shoe rack to my Christmas list. Then, this week, I found a sturdy rack for only $3 at Goodwill. Thank you, Lord!

…for the fabric I got at Goodwill (for a steal)
I know I already have too much fabric, but it has become somewhat of an obsession for me. And the Goodwill’s always have such fabulous fabric, at such a great price ($0.50 per yard). But this was an even better deal than normal (or is it wrong to be thankful that the salesgirl guessed at yardage instead of measuring and vastly underestimated the quantity?) Thank you, Lord, for beautiful wools and cottons and double knits (because I always pick up some of that when I’m there!)

…for the Lemony Snickett books that I got at Goodwill
I’ve enjoyed A Series of Unfortunate Events since it first came out, reading it with my not-into-reading, then-still-a-little-boy brother (who is now Marine). I started collecting the books a few years later when the library started sloughing extraneous copies. But I didn’t manage to get the whole set, and I could never remember which books I had and which I didn’t. I wrote down which titles I had in my planner/binder/notebook–but since writing my list, I haven’t seen Snickett books anywhere. Until last night. Last night, I saw the books and ran back out to my car to grab my notebook. They had every single copy I was missing. I was grateful to be able to grab them all up. Thank you, Lord.

…for the notebook I left behind
I got done checking out and had to take two trips to my car to carry out my loot (which also included a vintage suitcase, a purse/soft briefcase, and a cork board just the right size for a project I’d been planning). It just so happens, I left my book in the cart. I didn’t realize it until I’d gotten home (to Columbus from Grand Island.)

My heart started pounding, my pulse racing. My breath came out ragged, my mind spooling the loop. “What’s in it? Just my planner pages, long ago used up. I haven’t used it for weeks. It won’t hurt to just let it go.”

I mentally turned the divider and saw my list of books that I own and books that I’m missing. It’ll be sad to part with that but I can always make a new list. My mind turned over the next divider and what I saw made me certain I needed to get it back. Systematic theology notes and returned homework–and the homework I haven’t yet completed for when we resume after the holidays. Yeah, I’d probably want that back.

The next divider clinched the deal. My TBR list, painstakingly handwritten in pencil on the special sheets I’d made for it. Categorized by section of the library and further by author last name or Dewey Decimal category, I’d arranged it for ease of finding books at the library (and for erasing read books and refilling that slot with a new item). Furthermore, many of the items on the list are cataloged only on that list, since my computer debacle earlier this year meant that I lost all my bookmarked book reviews that populated my TBR list.

Yes, I needed it back. I started playing through scenarios of how I could get it back, even jumping out of my bath in the middle of it to search once more through my car to see if I’d somehow missed it when I brought my stuff in. Anxiety was at its peak.

Then I stopped and reminded myself that I could do nothing about it today. I left myself a note for the next day and went to bed. The next day, I called the Goodwill. A helpful donation sorter found my book and gave me a call back. It was safe and sound in the office until the day I could return to get it back.

I’m so thankful to get it back–but even more thankful to have learned something about surrendering my fears to God, and letting Him deal with the details.

Categories Faith, Rants

Why I’m not bothered by X-mas (like some people are)

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If your Facebook news feed is anything like mine, it’s populated by status updates from three types of people: those who love Christmas, those who hate Christmas, and those who are desperate to put Christ back in Christmas.

The third group is, of course, referring to the apparently secular designation “X-mas.”

I am not among those bothered by “X-mas”, partly because I’m not sure the title is worth a fight and partly because I’m not sure that X-mas is so anti-Christ as it’s made out to be.

After all, when I think of an “X” in place of something in a word, the first thing that comes to mind is those signs in front of Walmarts everywhere.

PED XING they declare in bold caps.

Pedestrian crossing.

X=Cross

Cross-Mas.

I can handle that.

The second thing I think of when I think of an X in place of a word is how illiterate individuals sign their names.

I know that Jesus wasn’t illiterate–he did, after all, take his place reading the Torah in the synagogue (Luke 4:16-21). But he was the companion of uneducated, common men (Acts 4:13). Throughout his life, Jesus spent time with the lowest of the low, the “underclass” of the Jewish world–Samaritans, prostitutes, tax collectors. You couldn’t go any lower.

Except that Jesus did. He went as low as absolutely possible, humbling himself to take on the humiliation of every man–every sin ever committed. He identified with–no, he became the lowest of the low by taking on man’s sin and bearing man’s curse.

I can see Jesus signing His name with a bold “X”, a reminder of of his identification with the downtrodden.

But the X doesn’t only mean “Cross” like in Ped Xing. It isn’t simply a mark in place of a signature.

X is also the Latinized version of the Greek letter CHI.

As in Χριστός (Christos).

Yes, that’s right.

X-mas means CHRISTmas.

Which is probably why I’m not too bothered by it.

Interested in reading more about the word “X-mas”? Check out Wikipedia’s article on the topic.

As an additional note, I always pronounce the word “X-mas” as “KRISS-MUSS”, never as “EX MUSS”; just as I never (except in jest) say “I EM AACH OH” when I mean “In my humble opinion.”

IMHO (read “In my humble opinion”), X-mas is an abbreviation that should be used only to save space in print, not to degrade the spoken language.

Categories Book Reviews

Book Review: “A is for Adam” by Ken and Mally Ham

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I pulled the books off the shelf willy-nilly, eager for some Bible story action from the Dewey Decimal 222s. Like usual, I didn’t stop to look at titles or authors on any of them. After all, I’m going to read every book in that library eventually, right?

When I got home to discover that I had Ken and Mally Ham’s A is for Adam: The Gospel from Genesis in my stack (and saw how big the book was–a whomping 118 pages for a picture book!), my heart sunk a bit.

You see, I’m an adamant creationist–but a creationist of a different breed than the Hams. Most of my encounters with the Ham version of creation has involved bashing those of my opinion–accusing us of compromising Biblical authority, maligning God’s character, and undermining the gospel. Not exactly something that predisposes me to enjoying what he’s written.

What I found left me one part pleasantly surprised and one part frankly disappointed.

I found that the children’s picture book section of the volume focused primarily on the events of Genesis and saved its ire for evolution (rather than picking up the Old Earth-New Earth debate.) I appreciated this show of restraint in focusing on the less disputable matters in Genesis. While there were certainly some elements of the story that read into Scripture what Scripture may not actually be saying, the overall story reflected Orthodox Christian belief regarding creation with little to dispute. I found this pleasantly surprising.

What I did not find pleasant was the clunky grammar and contrived rhyme found throughout the story. I was ready to forgive “B is for Bible, a book God did give” as an awkward attempt to maintain meter. What I can’t forgive is “Like all of the animals, no man did they fear”, “To sleep God did put him, and when he awoke”, “H is for how very sly he did sound”, and so forth. The overuse of the emphatic “did”, generally in an inverted sentence, is deplorable. It is aesthetically awful, a rape of the English language. In this, the book was unequivocally disappointing.

I alluded a bit earlier to “the children’s picture book section” of this book. That’s because this volume is a multipurpose, 3-in-1 extravaganza. First, it contains a children’s picture book with the aforementioned despicable writing accompanied by full color cartoon-like illustrations. The second section consists of commentary and “student exercises” for each of the 26 rhymes found within the children’s picture book. Finally, the book is repeated with the illustrations offered in outline so that children can color the book.

The second section of the book showed little of the restraint that characterized the first. Among other things, the commentary asserts that we can confidently date both the creation of the world and the flood of Noah from the genealogies of Scripture, that Noah’s flood must have been a global flood, that animal death was necessarily a consequence of the fall, and that dinosaurs unequivocally coexisted with humans.

I’d have liked to have liked this picture book, with its mostly indisputable story of creation and its clear emphasis on the gospel as being God’s plan from the beginning. Unfortunately, the combination of bad writing in the picture book portion and the presentation of young earth perspectives as the only Biblically faithful way to interpret Scripture leaves me unable to recommend this book, even in part.

Rating:1 Star
Category:Nonfiction picture book
Synopsis: An A-B-C book detailing the events of creation as interpreted by Young Earth creationist Ham.
Recommendation: Great idea (for the picture book part). Awful writing. Wooden interpretation of Scripture. I don’t recommend it.

If it hadn’t have been too long, I would have subtitled this post “In which I come out of the closet.” I realize that many of my readers likely hold different views than I regarding creation. Please realize that my review of this book as an Old-Earth creationist is not, in any way, meant to be a criticism of New-Earth creationism as such. Rather, my criticism is for the refusal to accept alternate interpretations of the creation account (such as the Day-Age view, to which I subscribe) as orthodox. In other words, I understand and appreciate that others hold to a different interpretation of the events of creation than I do. I do not appreciate the tendency to make the age of the earth a point of doctrinal orthodoxy or to accuse those of a differing viewpoint of not caring about Scriptural faithfulness or gospel truth.