City of a Thousand Dolls

City of a Thousand Dolls got kind of boring for me. I couldn't stand reading it for too long even after 100 pages.

Nisha is a girl who is part of no caste, from unknown ancestry, and was left at the doors of the City of a Thousand Dolls--a place where women go to prepare for their husbands or future careers (I think careers, I know they want to get married off though). She is the eyes and ears of the Matron of the City so she sees and hears everything that happens. But then, on the week leading to the Redeeming (where the girls get selected by their prospective spouses), girls start dying. First an accident then poisoning.

Even though people are dying, I didn't care. I'm sure there are girls who would really enjoy this, but I didn't. There seemed to be little for me to want to grasp and care about.

There is a romance that has kindled, but I don't think it'll pan out like Nisha wants it too--boy thinking of family name more than her (though I could be wrong). It didn't seem to be going anywhere, or if it does it shouldn't have. The romance is very paper thin with lots of makeout sessions hidden from sight. Something you would expect a newly junior high school student to be fantasizing over. Almost 1D, not even 2D.

There were talking cats too, which I know can be a turn off for some people. Like she has no friends, except maybe one, and the cats that follow her around. And the only reason they talk is because she needs to have dialog with someone. But she isn't trusted by anyone or she doesn't trust anyone enough to have meaningful conversations except the cats who can't talk to anyone else. Why can she do this? ... Reasons. That's why.

I will give Ms. Foster points on an interesting setting. The City and surrounding culture was interesting. All the different factions that exist in the City where girls worked to become an expert in specific things. That was cool, but not exactly interesting enough to keep me engaged. I started it well over a week ago, and barely got 75 pages in, still didn't care, and started skimming.

I'd probably disregard this book and find something else.

The Appearance of Annie van Sinderen

The Appearance of Annie Van Sinderen is a ghost story without ever using the word "ghost."

Wes is a media major assisting his friend who is producing a small film for their college summer school class. They go to a seance to hopefully see a ghost or something spooky. What they don't realize is that they actually spotted one. Annie bops in and out of 1840 New York to the present in hopes that she can find out what happened to her and her family and, more specifically, what happened to her cameo that her beau gave her that has gone missing. Wes and very few others can actually see her and search to find out what happened.

The story is cut into three parts: Wes, Annie, and West/Annie. As Wes figures out that Annie is a ghost we jump to her story and what happened throughout the week before her demise. But as she flashes back to the past, she's able to change things, or is she? She acts differently around others and they, in turn, respond differently. She is able to find new clues to her past and what happened.

I think the book is well written, but for those who don't care for heavy description, be ready to skim/skip parts. It if full of heavy description. Though interesting to see what it is like to walk the streets of present-day New York through the eyes of someone who hasn't seen buildings higher than three stores. That was fun. I liked the difference of views that were subtle throughout the story. When we are reading through Wes' point of view, it is different with different things emphasised than it is through Annie's. She focuses on the "cushioned chair" or small delicate things, whereas Wes sets his focus like you would a camera. I thought that was well done. It also definitely showed what it is like to be in a nineteen year old boys mind.

The transition between the two times was easy to see, though sometimes a bit long in description.  I understand that sometimes that transition can be sticky, but she Katherine Howe did it well.

Um... aside from that, it took me awhile to get it finished. I found it easy to put down and I knew what was going to happen well before it did. I finished it because I wanted to see how it was going to end and if I was right--which I was. It's not one that I'd be eager to pick up again, but it was alright.

I'd suggest this for a light read if someone wanted it.

Depression & Other Magic Tricks

Much like Our Numbered Days, Depression & Other Magic Tricks is a book of poetry produced by Button Poetry that I found online.

I very much enjoyed Sabrina Benaim's poems in this book and the development that happened as I turned the pages. It, of course, talks about depression and dealing with it, trying to explain it, and seriously just coping with it. But then it also goes into life around depression as well, triggers. Many of the poems are about dealing with a specific break up it seems where the boy in her mind just won't go away. She is glad/sad he's gone but always wanting him back, but unable to get him back. The progression of events was fantastic.

I was trying to explain to my grandmother how to read poetry to get its fullest meaning (read the sentence not the line break before you take a breath, read it a few times: the first to figure out what it says, the second to find further meaning, and a third to truly, simply enjoy the poem) and was actually having a hard time showing her how to read to the end of the sentence. Because there were hardly any of them in there. Quite a few of her poems were very long run on sentences were you, the reader, had to decide where to take a breath. There were many with "/" every few words that separated the fragments of sentences just enough for a feel of the line breaks without having line breaks.

The poem that really drew me to Sabrina Benaim though was her presentation of "Explaining Depression to My Mother, A Conversation." It was beautiful and shows how difficult it is for those who have depression to explain it to someone; someone who doesn't have it, doesn't get it, but is still trying--in their own way--to help. Below is her recitation of her beautiful poem.

Enjoy, like I do.