Putting away books for fun and profit
You all wish you were as cool as me. Because, if you were, you'd go to work and put books on shelves all day long. And then, you'd come home. And then, you'd put even more books on even more shelves. Without even being paid for it. Yeah.
Amazingly enough, however, all of my books are now on shelves in my room. This miracle was made possible by the fact that my parents, after years of promising to keep an eye out for used bookshelves, which was entirely unproductive, went out and bought a bunch of cheap six-foot bookshelves at Wal-Mart. Five (!) of them went in my room, and two more went in the basement. Now my walls are all covered with lovely, lovely rows of books.
I still have all my fiction alphabetized by title and literature (from the 8th century to the 18th century) in chronological order, but I pretty much jammed everything else wherever it would fit just to get it off the floor. I shall have to try to come up with a better organization schema later.
I went to see Prisoner of Azkaban on Friday afternoon with my mom and my little brother. Can I just say how happy I am that a Harry Potter film has been made that doesn't make me ashamed to be a Harry Potter fan? It was so pretty and funny and cool. You could feel how much thought and craft and love went into every single aspect of it. (Well, except the werewolf. Man, that was a failure of the imagination.)
Of course, the fact remains that my mom slept through about half of the movie. But I do not think that that was the fault of the movie. More of an unfortunate coincidence.
I do find it quite irritating that, like its predecessors, the script simply failed to get its plotty ducks in a row. It may very well be true that the majority of people watching a.) have already read the book, or b.) are too young to understand what's going on anyway, but that is incredibly lazy writing. To paraphrase Barbie: "Plot is hard!"
Amazingly enough, however, all of my books are now on shelves in my room. This miracle was made possible by the fact that my parents, after years of promising to keep an eye out for used bookshelves, which was entirely unproductive, went out and bought a bunch of cheap six-foot bookshelves at Wal-Mart. Five (!) of them went in my room, and two more went in the basement. Now my walls are all covered with lovely, lovely rows of books.
I still have all my fiction alphabetized by title and literature (from the 8th century to the 18th century) in chronological order, but I pretty much jammed everything else wherever it would fit just to get it off the floor. I shall have to try to come up with a better organization schema later.
I went to see Prisoner of Azkaban on Friday afternoon with my mom and my little brother. Can I just say how happy I am that a Harry Potter film has been made that doesn't make me ashamed to be a Harry Potter fan? It was so pretty and funny and cool. You could feel how much thought and craft and love went into every single aspect of it. (Well, except the werewolf. Man, that was a failure of the imagination.)
Of course, the fact remains that my mom slept through about half of the movie. But I do not think that that was the fault of the movie. More of an unfortunate coincidence.
I do find it quite irritating that, like its predecessors, the script simply failed to get its plotty ducks in a row. It may very well be true that the majority of people watching a.) have already read the book, or b.) are too young to understand what's going on anyway, but that is incredibly lazy writing. To paraphrase Barbie: "Plot is hard!"
And... I love Prisoner of Azkaban. So much.
... You know, quite a few of my colleagues don't like books. At all. I don't understand.
I can't wait until it's on DVD, and I can hug it and squeeze it and call it George, and take a million screencaps because it's so pretty.