—
twenty-something who likes reading, orange & oranges, & science fiction, among other things. often dreams of parallel universes, multiple timelines & the purpose of her existence; however she has yet to find a satisfactory answer to that last point.
SORT BY:
books (fiction / non-fiction / comics / graphic novels) / life / poetry / quotes
It's Sunday and I'm back again, so hopefully I'll get back into the groove of writing and posting here on a regular basis~
—
Bookshelves in public spaces are interesting — in most bookstores you'll find the goods displayed with in stacks where you can see the front covers and the spines, or on the shelves with both the spines & front covers facing you (I believe this breaks the monotony of solely having the spines face the customers on the shelf, and helps promote the sale of newcomers, bestsellers, special editions, etc. in a subtle manner... and this is why I'm always a bit poorer than I should be). Libraries are different in the sense that almost all books on the shelves are displayed with the spines facing you, with the exceptions of the few in the Highlights section.
With these observations, the way I procure new reading material (that aren't newspapers) differs:
- I am itching to spend some money but I have no idea what I should bu—OOO LOOK BOOKSTORE! Other less cringe-worthy circumstances include discounts at bookstores I frequent, or when I want to read a specific book as soon as I get home* and not have to wait weeks for Book Depository purchases to arrive.
- Do I want a specific book or cover that I cannot find in a physical store? Am I on a tighter budget? The Book Depository it is.
- For design-related literature I tend to visit stores that specialize in such books, or go straight to the publisher's website.
- Am I in desperate need to escape the sweltering heat while I wait for someone / time to pass and not have any one bother me, or do I want to catch up on some crime fiction? You'll probably find me in the library.
So, in a library, I tend to skim over the shelves and stop when I find a spine that visually excites me, or with an author's name whose books I've previously enjoyed.
Last weekend, I woke up realizing that I had a library book that was overdue for two weeks (!!!), so I begrudgingly dragged myself out in the intense heat and humidity to return it. My lateness amounted to $2.05 (I have a vivd memory of paying the fine and heaving a loud sigh), and I couldn't stand leaving the comfort of the air-conditioned library to go home immediately, so I decided to browse the shelves instead.
Somewhere in the B section of the fiction shelves, I spotted an irregularity which annoyed me: this particular book** had its bottom edges facing me. Evidently I wasn't thinking while I was skimming, but the book was too tall to fit the shelf with the spine facing me, which was why the librarian slotted it in that way.
So I stopped, pulled out the book (which led me to the conclusion that I wasn't making full use of my brain), and saw the prettiest single-colour illustrated cover I've ever seen. Then I saw the author's name, and remembered admiring her book covers for the Penguin Clothbound Classics series.
I borrowed it immediately, and now I want to get a permanent copy for myself which makes this book incredibly special in my opinion.
The Fox and the Star is Coralie Bickford-Smith's first work as an author & illustrator, and comes in a beautiful clothbound hardcover (I checked Book Depository and there's a
paperback edition available for pre-order, if you're not into hardcovers). I believe the cover illustrations are stamped in white foil, and I like how the textures of the cloth and the foil help enhance the physical beauty of this book.

The illustrated endpapers are beautiful, and remind me of the Arts and Crafts movement that I learnt about in school. A quick google search reveals that Bickford-Smith was inspired by said movement and the work of William Blake.

The story itself is a charming one about loss and acceptance. Look how adorable the Fox is! As the story moves on, the illustrations and layout of the words on the pages get a little darker and less colourful, which really adds to the story. It was so hard to pick just one page to feature, as I didn't want to spoil the story...

Here's a picture of the back cover, even though it's pretty similar to the front. I like how the Fox is easier to spot because of the space above him where the blurb lies — look at his dreamy face!
I'm dreading the day I'll have to return this — I am this close to getting my own copy but I have to set some money aside for household expenses, like a Responsible Working Adult
.
—
* I hardly read on public transport these days because I don't like the thought of
having my picture taken in a sneaky manner as I read without my permission, and then posting it online for everyone to see / scrutinize — I can understand where they're coming from but ughhh it just makes me so uncomfortable.
** Turns out that the Penguin imprint that published this is called Particular Books (pun unintended)!
P/S: Today's photos may look a little different — my camera's battery has no juice in it and I seem to have misplaced the charger (NOTE TO SELF: FIND THE DAMN CHARGER), so I used my phone instead.
P/S/S: I forgot how much I disliked typing in sentence case.
Labels: comics / graphic novels, fiction
One of the first comics I started reading was
Captain Marvel (written mostly by Kelly Sue DeConnick & drawn by David Lopez + a bunch of other talented artists in the past — all the art is beautiful and asking me to pick a favourite artist is difficult...). I can't remember how I started on her adventures in the first place, but over the past few months Captain Marvel / Carol Danvers has come to hold a very special place in my heart (that sounds really cheesy), and I'm excited for her solo movie to hit the big screens**.
The second run has recently ended, and for their huge & mostly confusing Secret Wars event/reboot*, Marvel has a new series for my favourite shark-punching sparklefisted high-flyer:
Captain Marvel & the Carol Corps!

Props to John Tyler Christopher for making me shell out extra for a fancy variant cover — I couldn't resist.

Look at the little scuff marks, ahhh. I wish the action figure was a real thing.
So. I don't want to talk too much about the plot — there are a bunch of pretty well-written reviews out there. What you should know about the comic, however, are these:
- Great art & character design by David Lopez, who drew most of the previous run. What I liked about this first issue was how he managed to inject unique visual quirks into a group of military pilots in uniform, making the pilots (and their planes) stand out.
- A not-so-little friend (not anymore, for now at least) makes a little guest appearance! I just was wondering when we'd see Kit again, right before I got my hands on this issue.
- Going against authority!
- Girl power ('nuff said).
All in all, this was an exciting first issue, and I can't wait to see what happens next!
—
* I tried reading some of the other titles in this huge crossover thing, and the only one I liked so far was A-Force (which I have a subscription for, yay). I tried reading the main Secret Wars series but so far it's been a hit-and-miss for me — I guess they're just not my cup of tea. What really annoys me is the fact that the few other series I enjoyed are not getting the endings they deserve (seriously, what's with Spider-Gwen #5?!), and the whole premise of this retcon hurts my head so much, blergh.
** The most important question in my mind: who will they cast? I'd love to see Anna Torv as Carol — she did such a wonderful job on Fringe and it's a little disappointing to see that she hasn't been in any major role since.
—

I went to the doctor yesterday for the third time in the past two months — this was apparently something I never really recovered from. Hello, gigantic antibiotic tablets, another decongesting nasal spray, and two days off from work.
It's a good thing this little break ends tomorrow — I am quite bored from sleeping all day because of the antibiotics.
Labels: comics / graphic novels, fiction
I'm slowly trying to get back into blogging, but after work the last thing I want to do is to get back on an illuminated screen. Don't get me wrong — I love my job (is
love too strong a word? I don't really know), but my eyes tire easily these days. On top of that I just haven't been in the mood to take pictures with my actual camera (my phone's camera annoys me to no end), and I guess this lack of motivation has been accumulating for a while...
But today, I come with some pictures, yay!
—
The stack of physical comics that I've accumulated since March. Not pictured above: Volume 1 of
Alex + Ada (I lent my copy to a friend yesterday).
These are mostly trade paperbacks / collected editions, though recently I've started subscribing to individual issues at a comic book store (
A-Force +
Fight Club 2, if you were wondering). That hardcover edition of
Sex Criminals at the bottom looks a little out of place — it's pink (and I hate pink ack), and isn't something I'd usually read, but it's pretty hilarious and tackles the (usually) taboo topic of sex (and mental health, although the mental health bit has nothing to do with the sex bits, ahaha) in a very well-written manner.
I have my eye on a bunch of other titles to add to this stack; they're mostly physical copies of whatever I've read on my computer screen but now that I have to pay for transportation and other things I guess I have to take tiny steps...
I bought these two weeks ago, and am still somewhere between the first few chapters of
No Longer Human (because I got distracted by all the wonderful illustrations in comic books...).
+ I had been looking for the Kobo Abe books I haven't read (prior to this I'd only read + owned + enjoyed
The Box Man and
The Woman in the Dunes, and was feeling a bit iffy about ordering from the Book Depository because they take forever to arrive), so when I chanced upon the last copy of
The Ark Sakura at the bookstore I had to buy it.

Also, I got a new pair of glasses!
I never really liked transparent frames before these, but I was itching for some sort of change at the optician. Then I stumbled upon this pair and fell in love with the arms, and the rest is history.
Labels: books, comics / graphic novels, fiction, life
This is a beautifully designed book, and I'm not just talking about the exterior and end pages. I've been itching to write about it ever since I got it last year, and since I have this space now, why not?
—
S. is a collaboration between Doug Dorst & JJ Abrams*, and is essentially a story nestled within another story, with parts of the plot hidden within codes and ciphers scattered throughout the book — for some reason reminds me of those Usborne Puzzle Adventures I was obsessed with as a kid (still am pretty obsessed with them actually, even though I get lazy these days and just flip straight to the answers), so if you loved those books / solving puzzles you will probably love this one.
The book comes in a black slipcover, and beyond that there is nothing much on the actual book itself to indicate the real authors or the plot — it looks pretty legitimate. There's even a small library sticker on the spine itself with the book classified under the Dewey decimal system, which gives us a tiny hint as to where the story begins; or rather, where the story in the story begins — you're essentially reading two stories simultaneously (or not, if you choose to read both parts separately).
The first thing that came to mind while flipping through the pages for the first time was "this must have been a really tricky book to print & bind". All pages are printed in full colour — besides the coloured handwritten notes in the margins the pages have been printed to look old and yellow (the book smells new though). Not all the notes are made in chronological order, and the colour of the ink used changes as the story moves along, but read closely and you will be able to piece together a rough timeline.
What makes this book truly special though (and why you should get a physical copy over the ebook), are these:
There are a couple of loose supplementary materials tucked between the pages; I did a search and it appears that the pages where these are inserted are the same for every physical copy.
As with the handwritten notes, not all of the inserts are placed in chronological order, some might want to take them out and keep them separately; personally I like having them in their original place so I left them there. I taped mine down with some washi tape because I am a huge klutz who tends to leave things lying everywhere...
The front matter isn't anywhere near the front, but disguised and hidden within the library return stamp at the end of the book — so incredibly clever and sneaky!
As mentioned above, S. is a story within a story, and starts off with our two main characters bickering on the title page of a high school library book that was never returned** — the Ship of Theseus. Their bickering soon transforms into deep discussions about life, the universe and everything else in between, alongside a collaborative search for the true identity of the author behind the Ship of Theseus: who exactly is the mysterious V. M. Straka? Reading between the lines they soon find clues and hidden messages, scattered throughout by Straka himself, and his translator.
—
I thoroughly enjoyed this book — great plot/s, beautiful writing, and puzzles (if you need help you could always use a search engine), all combined into one charming package. The narratives may be a little confusing if you're not used to reading multiple books at once though, but the plot is pretty easy to grasp.
There are a couple of reviews out there that compared
S. to Mark Z. Danielewski's
House of Leaves because of their experimental narratives, so naturally I got my grubby hands on a copy; it was a little harder to grasp the story in House of Leaves, but I found myself enjoying it very much. I'd even go as far to say that it's my favourite out of all the books I've read so far in my limited existence — but I'll leave that for another entry!
—
* To be honest I only discovered this book because I was stalking the
internet for stuff on JJ Abrams — basically what happens when you're
going through major Fringe withdrawal symptoms and desperately hoping for some ~*bonus material*~, ha ha, fat hope.
** It just so happens that there's a library book on my shelves from high school that I never returned...
P/S: As much as I hate writing in sentence case I decided to capitalize everything that should be capitalized because I figured no one else could probably stand reading long rambly entries set entirely in lowercase... Everything looks extremely odd right now; I am this close to changing everything back to lowercase.
Labels: books, fiction
I should start off my first proper review (!!!) by stating that I often get distracted by nice book covers, and I am a very picky reader — I don't like spending necessary time & money reading books / things I will not enjoy (which explains my horrible grades back in high school), so I will usually trawl through the internet to see if there's anything interesting (while avoiding spoilers; very tricky).
—
I was pleasantly surprised when I stumbled upon
The Silent History at the bookstore (I really liked the cover), and found myself tearing through the first few chapters on the spot without googling a single bit about it. As luck would have it I didn't have enough money in my wallet that day, so I went back a few days later and bought it home.
Here's some background information: The Silent History started off as an
award-winning iphone / ipad app released in late 2012, with downloadable installments and interactive features, such as location-specific content. The paperback edition was released in June this year, and as you can probably tell, the content in the interactive features are not included (where's the fun in that?). I don't own an iphone / ipad so I can't really say much about that aspect of the original, but from what I've read online it's pretty intriguing; download it if you can! For now, the paperback shall entertain me.


As mentioned above, I really liked the front cover — the title, handwritten and set within the white blocks, along with the subtle debossed lines, make a rather interesting combination, like filling in the blanks, which is essentially a huge part of the plot: how do you get through to people who do not possess the ability to communicate verbally?
The Silent History is told from a set of testimonials spanning from 2011 to 2044, and begins with a spike in children born without the ability to speak — as a result, these children don't learn to read and write (they're pretty much
illiterate), so testimonials are told from the point of view of the families, friends, impostors, researchers, etc. Truth to be told when I first read the blurb at the back I was nearly convinced that the events that took place within The Silent History actually happened; if it weren't for the year stated in the prologue I would have been fooled. As it turns out, the part of the human brain in silents where speech & language is processed is completely dead, and you have doctors and other people racing to solve the issue, but is the inability to process language even a problem in the first place?
I like how the testimonials are spread over 33 years; it allows the story to develop at a pretty comfortable pace instead of cramming it within a few years. You get to observe the silent children transforming to adulthood, and starting silent families of their own, while society slowly adapts around their presence, but then shifts abruptly from reluctant acceptance to rejection and fear.
Since there are a number of characters narrating their testimonials, you can see how the three different authors come into play — it would be pretty tough to pull off all the different characters if it were just one of them writing the entire story. There are a handful of recurring characters that serve as the backbone of the story, and it was interesting seeing them develop as the story moves along. Parts of these characters' monologues are just heart-achingly beautiful — a father whose every move to form a closer bond with his silent daughter simply serves to push her away, an imposter who wonders what it would be like to be one of them, and the teacher who pays a little too much attention to her silent students.
—
Overall, I really enjoyed The Silent History. The only thing I didn't like was how abrupt the ending was — it left a couple of questions unanswered, but don't let that discourage you from reading it though! I hope this ~*review*~ wasn't too rambly and made you want to read the book (:
Labels: books, fiction