"Books are Fun." --Ringo

My head is in a weird place today. I spent a lot longer than I meant to reading The Lovely Bones last night and, creepy. It must be good, because I got in bed at nine and didn’t fall asleep until after eleven-thirty. I read the first six chapters, and really only stopped when I kept having to go back three paragraphs because my brain had fallen asleep. After I set the book down, turned off the lamp and got comfy in bed… I did not sleep. Strange; normally I drop off before the first time Red Green uses duct tape.

Shifted. No sleep. Changed sides, twice. Awake. Turned onto back and thought about episodes of The Muppet Show. John Cleese is funny. Fell asleep.

A minute later: Awake. Thought I heard a noise that sounded like children being dismembered in underground caves. Was actually heat kicking on. Asleep.

12:00 – 2:00 AM. Dreams of pedophiles and again, dismemberment.

3:23 AM. Awake. My room. Just me. No people. Asleep.

4:57 AM. Blearily conscious. Minute changes. Asleep.

5:35 AM. Really cannot deny that I have to pee. Decide to go back to sleep because bloodthirsty pedophiles are probably in the hallway.

6:12 AM. Awaken from dream that niece and nephew are being attacked by said bloodthirsty pedophile. I have killed him with a baseball bat to the back of the neck. His head flew off. Nephew is probably scarred for life, but he’s got a life, so I’m thinking counseling won’t be too big a deal. In the dream.

6:13 AM. Vaguely conscious. Wonder if the next ten chapters of this book will leave me shivering in an asylum before I’m thirty.

6:55 AM. Not at all awake. Time to go to work.

So I’m a little out of it. I’m getting myself back, though, I just think that maybe I shouldn’t read it before bed… or if I do, have a Calvin & Hobbes on standby to cleanse the palate before I attempt any sleeping. The book is good, and in an odd way, I even like it—but I never read any Stephen King or such ilk in high school, so I don’t know how to read it without having it scare the bejeezus out of me. It’s like when you’re young and mix beer and wine (with the occasional shot of tequila) because you have no idea how to drink. So you barf and learn. But I never barfed. I must be doing it wrong. If I only read it during the day, I’ll have to read it only on weekends, and it’ll take forever to finish—but that won’t work, because I read six chapters at a go because I can’t put it down. Crap. Maybe it’s like fire-walking; you just have to run through it as fast as you can, and then spend two weeks in balm and ace wraps until you can walk right again. Any ideas?

I hope it doesn’t go all Very Bad Things on me; I like the way the story is moving, but if the father has an affair or the mother commits suicide or the little sister gets murdered, I think I’m out. I understand why my mother didn’t want me to read it; she told me she had and I went all “Mom! You can’t read that! Babies die in that book—geez! Ask me next time!” Seriously, my mother needs to be protected; she’s too sweet, and nice, and believes people are generally good. She won’t watch movies where people die, ones that don't end 'happy'. She’s a communist, for the cry-aye—I’m afraid to let her naïve little five-year-old self leave the house. As she was telling me about the book, she had her head down and would only say it was “sad”, but was hugging my hip the whole time. If I had kids, I wouldn’t read this book. Too hard.

But hey, I’m single, childless and my favorite movies are the ones where everyone dies with a maximum of drama and fiery explosions—and I’m having trouble sleeping.*

Beedoo’s Book Club:

Finished: How to be Good. Um. Well, the obvious jokes to be avoided:
1) Do not write this book. 2) Do not read this book. How to be Bored. I really liked About a Boy—was it just because the movie was good? Should I read another of his books because I feel like I should like him? I don’t know, but it’s going to take me a while before I can drum up enough apathy to attempt another of his books.

Book Rating: 2 out of 4 of Nick Hornby's tear-stained cancelled episodes of Wonderfalls.

* You’re totally going to read this book now, right? Just to see if you’re hardcore? Don’t lie. This is the stuff horror movies are made of. “Whatever you do, don’t… read… the BOOK!” (Summer 2006)


Christine said…
Totally read this book on a weekend of flying...I LOVED it. Couldn't put it down...and had no other distractions, so really it was that or talk to the creepy (maybe a pedophile?) guy next to me. But I went through my Steven King phase when I was 12 (seriously, I think I traumatized my 6th grade class by giving an oral report on 'The Dead Zone')...so no scary nightmares for me. But there was a ton of crying.
Jessica said…
I was a big fan of the book, and didn't really get that creeped out by it. Then again, my friend gave me one of those "this is the scenario, what is your hypothesis" tests, and I picked the psychopath answer...
Meg said…
I did not read the book. I feel left out, but not enough to read it. Scarey is not my thing.
Beedoo said…
I'd rather be crying than wetting the bed. I had to give it a two-day hiatus, and no more than three chapters at a time. Also? Sunshine.

It hasn't gotten scarier (as yet), but I'm really hoping the murderer gets killed, preferably by one of those car-cubers. Slowly.

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