Reading Round-Up, Summertime

I've not been posting regular reading lists this year, but lately I find myself wanting to post some reading reflections. So I thought I'd start with a brief list of some of the things I'm reading/reading "at" this summer.

I've been following Jack Lewis' advice about the importance of reading old books alongside new ones. My old book at the moment is very old indeed: Athanasius' On the Incarnation.

Athanasius has long been one of my heroes of the faith. Sitting down to actually read one of his books, cover to cover (not in excerpted snippets) has been powerful indeed, and far more than the interesting academic exercise I thought it would be. I've spent so many years, as a church history teacher, encouraging the reading of "primary sources" -- and for all sorts of good reasons. But when I open one myself, the immediate benefits hit me right away. Sitting at the feet of someone, listening to their voice, tends to break down the walls of years. You begin to see how much you and the writer have in common, despite the centuries between you, because of your bond in Christ. That bond begins to look again like the shining gold ribbon it is, running through the years and making sense of the wonderings, ponderings, tears, fears that are all so essentially human and that hardly ever seem to change (yet another bond).

What a treasure-house of books we Christians have that we hardly ever open. And what a privilege to be able to take our time, to be able to walk slowly through old pages and really digest what's there. Sometimes I think I have spent so many years as a student or student-teacher that I have a tendency to rush to understand/synthesize/spout back. Sometimes those are important parts of learning (one reason I use narration so much when I teach the sweet girl!) but as you season as a learner, you can learn to slow down. I'm lingering on passages in Athanasius for the pure joy of it, for formation and not just information. More on this book soon.

From old to very new...about a week ago I picked up a small paperback on the "new books" shelf of our local library. It's a memoir called Thin Places and is written by Mary E. DeMuth. I've never heard of her, but apparently she is a novelist who has written for Christian publishers (this book, described as a "spiritual memoir" is published by Zondervan). I primarily picked it up for its title, since the image of "thin places" is one that's been important in my own spiritual journey. The book has been nothing like I expected, but in a good way. I want to call her a kinder, gentler version of Anne Lamott, except that sounds too derivative (and I don't mean the comparison to demean either writer in any way). At any rate, I'm several chapters in and have been slammed to the heart by a few passages. More on this book soon too.

From the sublime to the...well, no, not ridiculous. I refuse to call juvenile mysteries ridiculous, particularly because I'm attempting to work out the plot for one again! Yes, with my husband's encouragement I am back to work on the juvenile mystery I began to write about four years ago. I abandoned it then due to lack of time and some major plot problems. He and I have been working (aloud, in the late evenings) on some of the knottier plot problems...have I mentioned how much I love being married to a dramatist? He's so good at understanding dramatic action...what will work and not work as opening/rising action, what characters I've sketched that hold the most potential as major players in the drama. He's also great at getting me to visualize the scenes I consider most important. I love working with him, and I am getting excited about diving back into the writing. I'm also priming the pump through the reading of a slew of old Trixie Belden mysteries. These are the books that turned me into a mystery enthusiast at the age of nine. They are the backbone of my understanding of the genre, though I've read other juvenile mysteries (then and now). I'm especially studying up the first 6 books in the series, the originals (for Trixie purists) penned by Julie Campbell. She really did an amazing job of writing character.

Reading with the sweet girl this summer has also been a delight. We finished Caddie Woodlawn (a lovely book I hope to review soon) and moved on to the sequel to All-of-a-Kind Family, appropriately entitled More All-of-a-Kind Family. (This became a fun joke, when S. would ask, "Could we read More More?") We loved the sequel almost as much as the original, and that's saying something.

The summer has been more of a challenge for S. as an indepedent reader, which concerns me a bit. I know she's had camp; she's also been bitten by the retro-video-game bug (her Dad got us a plug n' play video game for family present on her birthday, and she's become an amazing Pac Man player!). I've had to really encourage the reading time every day, something that's hard for me to fathom. By her age I was gobbling books without any encouragement at all, and so I'm trying not to either worry or compare...just encourage. Reading is just a huge part of our lives, and I know how much she loves stories, so I think big reading seasons, and eventually deep reading habits, will still come. She's been reading more of the Ramona books on her own, and I've encouraged her to read aloud to me from some readers. We've especially been enjoying the Poppleton and Mr. Putter and Tabby books by Cynthia Rylant.