I grew up reading books. This was before computers, cell phones, and tablets were a thing. We had a TV growing up, but we didn’t have cable. Admittedly, I watched a lot of PBS (Cyberchase is awesome), but more often than not, I read.
I would read while I ate, when I was bored, when I should have been doing my homework, and of course, until my feet fell asleep while sitting on the toilet. I read so much, my mother had to tell me to put down my book and engage in whatever activity I was missing out on. But it wasn’t just me.
My sisters are also avid readers and always have been. It was common for us to be on family trips and all have our noses stuck in a book. You’d hear us all groan as our parents made us put our books down to do some family activity like Monopoly or The Game of Life.
I have very fond memories of the three of us lounging around all summer long each reading our respective books. We’d pause every now and again to listen while one of us read an especially funny bit out loud or gasped at some intense twist we didn’t see coming. We’d go to the library once every couple of weeks to get more books to read. I read every single Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mystery books the local library had on their shelves, and I read the Laura Ingalls Wilder series twice before I was 10. I read all the Magic Treehouse and Animorphs books I could get my hands on.
As I got older, I fell in love with all kinds of books. I’ve read every book Jane Austen wrote, all ten of the Percy Jackson books, the works of Sophocles, Euripides, and Homer, Eragon, and my all time favorite, Alexandre Dumas’s book, The Count of Monte Cristo. And so many, many more books.
My point is, I was an avid reader when I was a kid. In the last 10 years, I stopped making time to read. I’ve always read at least a couple books each year, but it was nothing compared to how much I used to read. I guess I was so caught up in all the drama that was going on in my life that I didn’t prioritize reading books. And my relationships were pretty darn unhealthy, which means that just about all of my free time was spent with my partners; there was no time to do what I enjoyed if it didn’t involve my partners. And once I had Luna, forget it. There was no time at all for anything anymore, with Dmitry or otherwise.
Late last year, my little sister, Ronnie, gave me a book to read. She and I are both fans of Rick Riordan for his Percy Jackson book series. I’ve also read his Magnus Chase series. She gave me a copy of the first novel he ever wrote: Big Red Tequila.
It’s a run-of-the-mill detective story. But it was one of those cop kids with a chip on his shoulder and an old score to settle with the guys who killed his dad. And of course the love interest in the book was caught up in all the nonsense somehow.
I didn’t really like it. (Can you tell?)
There were parts of it that I liked. Riordan’s signature humor that I am so fond of in the books I love is sprinkled throughout the book. The story itself was mildly interesting, but I saw whodunnit about a third of the way in, and it was slow until the last quarter. Hardly what I am used to from him. But to be fair, like I said, it was his first novel. His best was yet to come by far.
The best part about Big Red Tequila was that it got me back into reading. I’ve read 4 books, and I’m on my fifth this year. I think I’ll be able to read 6 or 7 total if I keep it up. Not anywhere near what I used to read as a kid, but more than I have each year in the last decade. Progress, not perfection.
One book that I’ve read recently is The Martian, by Andy Weir.
One day early last month, Freddie, a friend of mine reached out to me out of the blue. He asked me if I had seen the movie, The Martian. I responded that I had several years ago and asked him if he’d read it. He responded that he didn’t know it was a book and asked if I’d read it.
I told him I hadn’t.
So we decided that we would both read it and then both watch the movie.
Ho-ly mo-ly.
It was absolutely riveting. From the very first word I read, I didn’t want to put it down. I immediately cared about Mark Watney, and I was rooting for him every second of the book. I loved that he was an insanely smart scientist who thought creatively about the situation he was in and all the tools and materials he had at hand.
The biochemist in me ate up every nerdy science bit Weir gave us, knowing full well that were I in a similar situation, I would have died within a week. Watney is a far superior scientist than I, and he is awesome.
Then once NASA realized he was alive and that whole aspect of the situation was introduced, the suspense and drama was raised to another level. The NASA team seemed really relatable and interesting to me too.
I’ve been Mindy Park, feeling massively underqualified and like I have no business being in the room with so many high power individuals. I loved how as time went on, she gained confidence and became a badass, telling Kapoor off at the end. That part cracked me up.
Speaking of, Venkat Kapoor was sympathetic yet annoying as hell at times. His refusal to tell the crew about Watney, how he was dismissive of people, and how he spoke to Watney made me want to punch him. But at the same time, when he was exhausted from how many hours straight he’d been working on getting Watney home, I felt his exhaustion. I sympathized with him and the position he was in.
Mitch seemed like a firecracker on the outside but a big softie on the inside, which I could totally relate to. Sometimes I wanted him to stop being a contrarian and be quiet. Other times, I wanted him to punch Teddy in the face. But when it came down to it, he cared so much about the crew, and it really showed. He felt the weight of their well being on his shoulders, and he genuinely cared. Which is why he did the only sensible thing when Teddy was being a giant douche rocket and sent the Rich Purnell plan to the crew. I love a good hard shell with a soft, squishy center.
Teddy. I despised him. He was the kind of slime ball politician type who says something about wanting to get Watney home, but you know what he really means is that it’s bad publicity and that is what needs to be rectified. I hate that guy.
And Bruce Ng… poor Bruce. Bruce Ng was like every project manager I’ve ever worked with — entirely overworked with so much asked of them that they are destined to fail spectacularly. It was so incredibly frustrating to see the entire project blow up (literally) because of some loose bolts. Rrrrrg!!!
Annie was written a bit over the top, I think. I know she was a bit of comic relief, but I think that the kind of comic relief Watney offered was far better. I got the impression that she was putting on a certain exterior that was extreme, but it didn’t seem quite realistic. I did really like the part where she told Teddy that she wished Mitch had punched him in the face. Because me too, Annie. Me freaking too.
Finally, Rich Purnell. Hahaha. He is undoubtedly brilliant, and he cracks me up. But he is so unrealistic. The way he was so completely dismissive of his supervisor was unrealistic. But I loved him anyway. He was great.
The book was riveting from start to finish. Anytime the story didn’t follow an individual, I knew some disaster was about to befall poor Watney. There was a pit in my stomach every time this shift in perspective took place, and every time something devastating happened, my stomach was in knots. I felt that familiar feeling of frustration and defeat when you hit a wall right when you think you’ve had a breakthrough. And I wondered how the heck he was going to science his way out of the situation.
It was a fantastic book, and I was enthralled until the very last page. And given that Freddie hadn’t read a book in years, and he loved it too, I’d say it’s a pretty damn good book. Not only that, he’s been reading ever since — The Martian turned him into a reader! Now that is an incredible boast for a book.
I will admit, the next book I picked up has been very slow by comparison. Even so, this book encouraged me to read even more. It reminded me how much I love reading. The other books I’ve read since Big Red Tequila have been fine, but none as good as The Martian.
Once again, I have a list of books that I want to read, just as I did when I was younger. I am sure that some will be duds, but I am looking forward to the good ones, the ones that transport me to a new world and fill my imagination with incredible adventures and stories.
Gods, it feels good to rediscover reading.
**READ ME (please)**
Two things!
One, please note that the names of everyone in this blog have been altered to protect the people I write about. My main goal is to explore my experiences and my growth, not air anyone’s dirty laundry out. Any likeness to people you know in real life are probably coincidental. (I mean what are the chances? It’s a pretty big world!)
Two, the thoughts and opinions I express in this blog are merely a result of my personal experiences to this point in my life. If there is anything I have misrepresented, overlooked, or have a blind spot for, feel free to leave a comment or email me at contact@livingbetween.net. (Yes, this includes typos. Let me fix my typos, please!) All I ask is that you always remain respectful.
Talk soon!
– Lynda –
Living Between 