Today is Friday, and now that it's spring, that means windows down, music blasting, half-wet hair blowing in the wind ... and showing up to work looking like I have Edward Scissorhands' stylist.
It's casual Friday, so I'm wearing my new Wonder Woman T-shirt, cuffed rockabilly capris and the gold chain-mail-looking earrings I wore to a Halloween disco party.
I feel a little bit like a rocker chick today in spite of the fact that I've been listening to lame early '90s hits all morning. Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain the self-delusion that you're an alt-rock, above-it-all, new-wave-grunge girl when you're singing along to Monica's "Don't Take it Personal"? (known in some countries as "Song that repeats the same line 9,000 times and encourages men everywhere to blame all their relationship troubles on PMS")
I've been playing some of the mixed CDs I made when I got my first computer with a CD burner in December 2002. They're compilations of songs from the CDs I hardly ever listened to anymore. I planned to save the "good" songs and then sell the CDs at a yard sale. At this point, I can't remember which ones sold and which didn't. Let's just say I haven't been missing my old Bon Jovi CD too much. (Of course, how can I miss it when my office mate just played "You Give Love a Bad Name"?)
Most of the songs on these mixed CDs are almost too embarassing to admit I own, let alone enjoy. Yet I get a strange pleasure from embarassing myself, so I'll reveal that TLC's "Diggin' on You," Better Than Ezra's "Good," and Bush's "Glycerine" are in attendance. And no '90s collection is complete without Oasis' "Wonderwall," Jill Sobule's "Supermodel," the Spin Doctors' "Little Miss Can't Be Wrong," and last but not least ... everyone's 9th grade dance favorite: "Cotton-Eye Joe" by the Rednex.
OK, I admit I'm a sucker for nostalgia. I was in middle school in the early '90s, and that was the time when I began to be interested in music other than what my mother played in the car, the time when I started watching MTV (you know, back when they actually played videos), the time when I bought my first newfangled "Compact Disk" (I think it was The Eagles' greatest hits compilation Hell Freezes Over.).
I could try to redeem myself now by listing all of the artists I liked in the early '90s who are still respectable today. But where's the fun in that? We all know we were lame in middle school; I say embrace the lameness ... but please oh please no more feathered bangs!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
Morning Mix, Vol. 1
Writing that post about the Curious George soundtrack's miraculous morning powers made me think about what type of song is best for the morning commute. What does the ideal morning song need to do?
1. Not remind me how life sucks.
2. Keep me from dozing off and swerving into oncoming traffic.
3. Put me in a good mood (or at least take the edge off my bad mood).
So I've been scrolling through every song in my arsenal to compile an ideal mix of morning tunes.
Here's Volume 1:
Everyday by Buddy Holly
(because it's so sunshiney)
Get Rhythm by Johnny Cash
(I have the Joaquin Phoenix version from the Walk the Line soundtrack)
All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow
(ok, so it's an obvious one)
Supermodel by Jill Sobule
(this one gets bonus points for making me laugh)
Build Me Up, Buttercup by The Foundations
(it sounds chipper even if it's not)
Change by The Lightning Seeds
(the repeated line "put your foot down and drive" makes this one a shoe in)
Yakety Yak by The Coasters
(I loved this song when I was a kid, and it makes me feel like I'm 7 years old again, dancing around in the basement singing into a hairbrush.)
9 to 5 by the fabulous Dolly Parton
(the perfect morning commute song, peppy and full of work angst)
Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes by Paul Simon
(from his I'm-super-authentic-because-I-hang-out-with-Africans phase ... it starts out slow, but it picks up after the first verse. The lyrics are so weird that they're delightful to sing along with.)
I've Still Got My Health by Bette Midler
(because it's optimistic ... in a twisted way)
I Feel Lucky by Mary Chapin Carpenter
(fun song and worth it just for the bizarro line "Lyle Lovett's right beside me with his hand upon my thigh")
No Rain by Blind Melon
(remember the bee girl video? I listened to this song over and over and over in my middle school bedroom, singing along until my throat ached. Of course, then I didn't have the depressing knowledge that the lead singer would die of a drug overdose.)
3 x 5 by John Mayer
(a mellow little song)
Fast as You by Dwight Yoakam
(guaranteed to make you tap your fingers on the steering wheel)
Van Lear Rose by Loretta Lynn
(sentimental but fantastic and raw)
Don't Lie by the Black Eyed Peas
(By all rights, I should hate a band who has a song entitled, "Don't Phunk With my Heart" and whose singer pees on herself onstage. Yet somehow I can't stop myself from liking their music, especially this upbeat confessional song.)
Shoop by Salt n Pepa
(because it's so fun to sing along with ... how can you not smile when you're saying, "wanna thank your mother for a butt like that"?)
Of course, no matter how good the songs are, any CD will get old after a while. Listen to it too many times in a row, and you'll want to fling it Frisbee-style out the window and sever someone's jugular.
Next up: Evening Mix, Vol. 1
1. Not remind me how life sucks.
2. Keep me from dozing off and swerving into oncoming traffic.
3. Put me in a good mood (or at least take the edge off my bad mood).
So I've been scrolling through every song in my arsenal to compile an ideal mix of morning tunes.
Here's Volume 1:
Everyday by Buddy Holly
(because it's so sunshiney)
Get Rhythm by Johnny Cash
(I have the Joaquin Phoenix version from the Walk the Line soundtrack)
All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow
(ok, so it's an obvious one)
Supermodel by Jill Sobule
(this one gets bonus points for making me laugh)
Build Me Up, Buttercup by The Foundations
(it sounds chipper even if it's not)
Change by The Lightning Seeds
(the repeated line "put your foot down and drive" makes this one a shoe in)
Yakety Yak by The Coasters
(I loved this song when I was a kid, and it makes me feel like I'm 7 years old again, dancing around in the basement singing into a hairbrush.)
9 to 5 by the fabulous Dolly Parton
(the perfect morning commute song, peppy and full of work angst)
Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes by Paul Simon
(from his I'm-super-authentic-because-I-hang-out-with-Africans phase ... it starts out slow, but it picks up after the first verse. The lyrics are so weird that they're delightful to sing along with.)
I've Still Got My Health by Bette Midler
(because it's optimistic ... in a twisted way)
I Feel Lucky by Mary Chapin Carpenter
(fun song and worth it just for the bizarro line "Lyle Lovett's right beside me with his hand upon my thigh")
No Rain by Blind Melon
(remember the bee girl video? I listened to this song over and over and over in my middle school bedroom, singing along until my throat ached. Of course, then I didn't have the depressing knowledge that the lead singer would die of a drug overdose.)
3 x 5 by John Mayer
(a mellow little song)
Fast as You by Dwight Yoakam
(guaranteed to make you tap your fingers on the steering wheel)
Van Lear Rose by Loretta Lynn
(sentimental but fantastic and raw)
Don't Lie by the Black Eyed Peas
(By all rights, I should hate a band who has a song entitled, "Don't Phunk With my Heart" and whose singer pees on herself onstage. Yet somehow I can't stop myself from liking their music, especially this upbeat confessional song.)
Shoop by Salt n Pepa
(because it's so fun to sing along with ... how can you not smile when you're saying, "wanna thank your mother for a butt like that"?)
Of course, no matter how good the songs are, any CD will get old after a while. Listen to it too many times in a row, and you'll want to fling it Frisbee-style out the window and sever someone's jugular.
Next up: Evening Mix, Vol. 1
Friday, March 17, 2006
Miserably Fantastic
In honor of St. Patty's Day, a tribute to one of my favorite authors, the literary world's own charming old Irish person: Frank McCourt.
His Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir Angela's Ashes is my favorite book in the world. I can't review it because who can review a book this good without looking like a pompous ass? Instead, a groveling praise-fest will do.
On the first page of Angela's Ashes are my favorite lines in all of literature:
For a writer in particular, those are the truest words ever spoken. What do you have to write about if nothing tragic and miserable ever happened to you in your life?
I've read the print version of Angela's Ashes several times, but I listened to it for the first time last week on unabridged audio CD. McCourt narrates it himself, and by damn it might be even better out loud. His accent is different from the Irish accents I've heard before ... less lilting and delightful but still uniquely wonderful. He reads in a way that's mumbly and casual and makes me wish I'd had him as a teacher. I love this guy. Love him!
I listened to his Teacher Man the week before, and it was incredible, too. I may just send a copy with a sappy note to each of my favorite high school teachers. The kind who stood out mostly because they cared deeply about their subjects and their students. (If you're out there Dr. James Southern, this means you.)
Still, Angela's Ashes is my favorite of his works by a mile. It's miserable, of course. But, unlike the movie they made of it, it's funny too. Best of all is the way he captures the child's voice - the questioning, the naivete and yet the understanding deeper than adults know.
Ach, 'tis beautiful.
His Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir Angela's Ashes is my favorite book in the world. I can't review it because who can review a book this good without looking like a pompous ass? Instead, a groveling praise-fest will do.
On the first page of Angela's Ashes are my favorite lines in all of literature:
When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: a happy childhood is hardly worth your while.
For a writer in particular, those are the truest words ever spoken. What do you have to write about if nothing tragic and miserable ever happened to you in your life?
I've read the print version of Angela's Ashes several times, but I listened to it for the first time last week on unabridged audio CD. McCourt narrates it himself, and by damn it might be even better out loud. His accent is different from the Irish accents I've heard before ... less lilting and delightful but still uniquely wonderful. He reads in a way that's mumbly and casual and makes me wish I'd had him as a teacher. I love this guy. Love him!
I listened to his Teacher Man the week before, and it was incredible, too. I may just send a copy with a sappy note to each of my favorite high school teachers. The kind who stood out mostly because they cared deeply about their subjects and their students. (If you're out there Dr. James Southern, this means you.)
Still, Angela's Ashes is my favorite of his works by a mile. It's miserable, of course. But, unlike the movie they made of it, it's funny too. Best of all is the way he captures the child's voice - the questioning, the naivete and yet the understanding deeper than adults know.
Ach, 'tis beautiful.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Magic Morning Medicine
I am not a morning person. Before I graduated from college and got an 8 to 5 job, I liked to stay up late and sleep in. I did my best thinking at night.
Now, I still like to stay up late, but I'm too sleepy to get any good thinking done. Then I'm even more tired in the morning, exacerbating the not-morning-person problem.
Since I hate coffee, I don't have the primary crutch of most not-morning-people. Instead, now I have Jack Johnson.
This Monday - the worst morning of all mornings - I popped in the Curious George soundtrack, which my sister had given me the week before. I had high hopes for it. There's been plenty of hype, and I usually trust my sister's judgement.
Also, I'd previewed many of the songs on iTunes and downloaded "With My Own Two Hands" (which features Ben Harper).
Besides, I already had one Jack Johnson CD (his 2002 release, Brushfire Fairytales), and it was good, clean fun. Excellent background-noise music because many of the songs sound the same, and they aren't the kind that require me to sing along (badly).
Still, I didn't expect the soundtrack to have magical powers. Within a couple of songs, I was smiling! SMILING! While driving down the interstate! On a MONDAY! Before 9 a.m.!
The sun was shining, and suddenly the day felt beautiful and fresh, full of promise. The song "People Watching" made me giggle and notice a dude in business attire on a motorcycle beside me at a red light. The song "The Three Rs" (for reduce, reuse, recycle) made me want to go home and sort my garbage. "Lullaby" made me want to give this CD to all my nieces and nephews, even the new one who will be born in August.
I bounced into work with a smile still on my face from the lyrics, "If you have one sandwich, cut that thang in two!" (from "The Sharing Song"). My co-workers even noticed ... they gave me those sideways, narrowed-eye looks that mean, "What's up with you?" and/or "Can I have some of what you're taking?"
This CD has been spinning in my car all week. I only today switched to a mixed CD (yes, I'm still in the dark ages pre-iPod), and that was only because I was afraid I'd burn myself out.
I recommend this CD for commuters of all ages ... especially the ones who need a boost of sunny personality in the morning. Another children's CD with a similar, folksy vibe: Peter, Paul and Mommy, by Peter, Paul & Mary.
Now, I still like to stay up late, but I'm too sleepy to get any good thinking done. Then I'm even more tired in the morning, exacerbating the not-morning-person problem.
Since I hate coffee, I don't have the primary crutch of most not-morning-people. Instead, now I have Jack Johnson.
This Monday - the worst morning of all mornings - I popped in the Curious George soundtrack, which my sister had given me the week before. I had high hopes for it. There's been plenty of hype, and I usually trust my sister's judgement.
Also, I'd previewed many of the songs on iTunes and downloaded "With My Own Two Hands" (which features Ben Harper).
Besides, I already had one Jack Johnson CD (his 2002 release, Brushfire Fairytales), and it was good, clean fun. Excellent background-noise music because many of the songs sound the same, and they aren't the kind that require me to sing along (badly).
Still, I didn't expect the soundtrack to have magical powers. Within a couple of songs, I was smiling! SMILING! While driving down the interstate! On a MONDAY! Before 9 a.m.!
The sun was shining, and suddenly the day felt beautiful and fresh, full of promise. The song "People Watching" made me giggle and notice a dude in business attire on a motorcycle beside me at a red light. The song "The Three Rs" (for reduce, reuse, recycle) made me want to go home and sort my garbage. "Lullaby" made me want to give this CD to all my nieces and nephews, even the new one who will be born in August.
I bounced into work with a smile still on my face from the lyrics, "If you have one sandwich, cut that thang in two!" (from "The Sharing Song"). My co-workers even noticed ... they gave me those sideways, narrowed-eye looks that mean, "What's up with you?" and/or "Can I have some of what you're taking?"
This CD has been spinning in my car all week. I only today switched to a mixed CD (yes, I'm still in the dark ages pre-iPod), and that was only because I was afraid I'd burn myself out.
I recommend this CD for commuters of all ages ... especially the ones who need a boost of sunny personality in the morning. Another children's CD with a similar, folksy vibe: Peter, Paul and Mommy, by Peter, Paul & Mary.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Cherubim
I wish this book was available in audio form:
I can imagine an entire blog dedicated to hating other people's kids. It would be easy to find new content. Just go to the mall, the mini golf course, the park, the skating rink - aha! the movie theater!
The movie theater is by far the worst place for obnoxious small humans. Try going to see a Harry Potter movie. Just try it! Even at midnight, the place is packed with ankle biters spouting such charming phrases as, "Why does Harry have a stick?" (from the younger siblings) and "Ooh, watch this part - this is where Harry fights a dragon! Don't worry - he wins!" (from the older siblings)
Still, I usually don't blame it on the kids. Even when they're giving away key plot points in a movie, there's something charming about their eagerness. It's hard not to get excited along with them and remember for a moment what it was like to be a kid.
Besides, for every brat, there is a little one who plays peek-a-boo at you from the front seat of a grocery cart. It's no wonder people keep having babies ... just one smile from a curly-headed cherub, and you can feel like the coolest person in the world.
I can imagine an entire blog dedicated to hating other people's kids. It would be easy to find new content. Just go to the mall, the mini golf course, the park, the skating rink - aha! the movie theater!
The movie theater is by far the worst place for obnoxious small humans. Try going to see a Harry Potter movie. Just try it! Even at midnight, the place is packed with ankle biters spouting such charming phrases as, "Why does Harry have a stick?" (from the younger siblings) and "Ooh, watch this part - this is where Harry fights a dragon! Don't worry - he wins!" (from the older siblings)
Still, I usually don't blame it on the kids. Even when they're giving away key plot points in a movie, there's something charming about their eagerness. It's hard not to get excited along with them and remember for a moment what it was like to be a kid.
Besides, for every brat, there is a little one who plays peek-a-boo at you from the front seat of a grocery cart. It's no wonder people keep having babies ... just one smile from a curly-headed cherub, and you can feel like the coolest person in the world.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
I've changed the format of this blog. Much as I love audiobooks, there's only so much I can say about them. From now on, this blog will focus on all forms of commuter entertainment. In addition to reviews of audiobooks, music and gadgets to make the commuter's life better, I'll report on news and innovations that will affect commuters. Expect more frequent posts and (I hope) better content.
Pink is My Fav-or-ite Color
I want one of these:
Yeah, I'm a total sell-out for coveting the lovely magenta Motorola Razr. Any product that says these words in its promo material is clearly sent from Satan himself: "Seeded to a select group of fashion elite and Hollywood 'it' girls."
And yet ... it's so darn pretty! Can I help it that pink is my favorite color?
I scanned the eBay galaxy for more pink phones and came up with disappointingly few. Does anyone besides me miss the simpler times when you could change out the color of your cell phone with a plastic face plate bought from a booth at the mall?
Besides its delightful color, the Razr is slim and lightweight - a far cry from the Nokia Free-Beast I've been lugging around for the past three years. Yikes, has it really been that long? My phone is so antique it doesn't take photos and doesn't even let me download ringtones. That's right - I'm still going around with the classic "Toreador." (But at least it's not Fur Elise.)
My life would be so much more complete if I had a magenta Razr. I could download Project Runway ringtones. I could take photos of furniture I find at yard sales and send them to my husband to shoot down. I could watch video clips on the 2.2-inch screen, though I'm not sure the eye strain would be worth it. Best of all, the quad-band technology would let me "jet-set around the world without missing a call." Hey, if I ever decide to jet-set, that would be perfect!
And the Razr has all these cool features, even if I don't know what half of them are:
• External dimensions: 13.9 x 55 x 98 millimeters
• Weight: 95 grams
• External color display
• Picture caller ID
• Nickel-plated copper-alloy chemically-etched keypad
• Internal display: 2.2 inch 176 x 220 pixel 64K color TFT display
• External display: 96x80 pixels 4k color CSTN CLI
• EL keypad illumination panel
• Internal quad-band antenna
• Integrated VGA camera with 4x zoom
• Integrated Class 1 Bluetooth® wireless technology
• 22kHz polyphonic speaker with MP3 ringer support
• MPEG4 video Playback
• 3D Graphics Engine
• Java™ MIDP 2.0
• Dedicated Messaging & Browser keys
If only I wasn't so cheap, I'd go snap me up one of these babies right now. But why do you think I still have the Nokia phone after all these centuries? $199 just seems so extravagant when I can get a crappy free phone with my cell service.
Yeah, I'm a total sell-out for coveting the lovely magenta Motorola Razr. Any product that says these words in its promo material is clearly sent from Satan himself: "Seeded to a select group of fashion elite and Hollywood 'it' girls."
And yet ... it's so darn pretty! Can I help it that pink is my favorite color?
I scanned the eBay galaxy for more pink phones and came up with disappointingly few. Does anyone besides me miss the simpler times when you could change out the color of your cell phone with a plastic face plate bought from a booth at the mall?
Besides its delightful color, the Razr is slim and lightweight - a far cry from the Nokia Free-Beast I've been lugging around for the past three years. Yikes, has it really been that long? My phone is so antique it doesn't take photos and doesn't even let me download ringtones. That's right - I'm still going around with the classic "Toreador." (But at least it's not Fur Elise.)
My life would be so much more complete if I had a magenta Razr. I could download Project Runway ringtones. I could take photos of furniture I find at yard sales and send them to my husband to shoot down. I could watch video clips on the 2.2-inch screen, though I'm not sure the eye strain would be worth it. Best of all, the quad-band technology would let me "jet-set around the world without missing a call." Hey, if I ever decide to jet-set, that would be perfect!
And the Razr has all these cool features, even if I don't know what half of them are:
• External dimensions: 13.9 x 55 x 98 millimeters
• Weight: 95 grams
• External color display
• Picture caller ID
• Nickel-plated copper-alloy chemically-etched keypad
• Internal display: 2.2 inch 176 x 220 pixel 64K color TFT display
• External display: 96x80 pixels 4k color CSTN CLI
• EL keypad illumination panel
• Internal quad-band antenna
• Integrated VGA camera with 4x zoom
• Integrated Class 1 Bluetooth® wireless technology
• 22kHz polyphonic speaker with MP3 ringer support
• MPEG4 video Playback
• 3D Graphics Engine
• Java™ MIDP 2.0
• Dedicated Messaging & Browser keys
If only I wasn't so cheap, I'd go snap me up one of these babies right now. But why do you think I still have the Nokia phone after all these centuries? $199 just seems so extravagant when I can get a crappy free phone with my cell service.
Where Do You Listen?
The results of my long-standing poll are in. What can we learn from the whopping 11 votes cast?
Unsurprisingly, the majority of Commuter Rock readers listen to audiobooks on their commute. That's when I listen to them also (obviously).
Since the commute sucks up so much of my time, I rarely carve out a few hours to curl up with a good print book. The audiobooks have quickly become my savior - they let me keep up with the latest books, and they make the commute speed by.
If you want to try them without the financial risk (after all, some people do hate them), hop on over to Amazon or eBay, or even your local library. Used audiobooks are a good bet because they've probably only been listened to once.
Unsurprisingly, the majority of Commuter Rock readers listen to audiobooks on their commute. That's when I listen to them also (obviously).
Since the commute sucks up so much of my time, I rarely carve out a few hours to curl up with a good print book. The audiobooks have quickly become my savior - they let me keep up with the latest books, and they make the commute speed by.
If you want to try them without the financial risk (after all, some people do hate them), hop on over to Amazon or eBay, or even your local library. Used audiobooks are a good bet because they've probably only been listened to once.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
I Still Love You, Ayelet
I wanted to love Ayelet Waldman's new book, Love and Other Impossible Pursuits, because I enjoy her column at Salon. Ms. Waldman is quite the controversial figure at Salon. In one column, she said she hoped her son would be gay. In another column, she wrote about over-zealous "attachment" parents. She has written about abortion and suicide. These are the sorts of topics that apparently get people - even supposedly enlightened Salon readers - up in arms.
I've never been offended by one of her columns or written in a letter to call her a "hack" for writing about her own experiences, rather than quoting psychologists and book authors. These people obviously don't understand the difference between an editorial column and a researched article.
I'll defend Waldman's column and her right to make her own choices all day long. But her novel? I'm not sure.
Love and Other Impossible Pursuits is the story of New Yorker Emilia, who has recently lost a baby girl. She "stole" her husband away from another woman, and he has a smartypants 5-year-old son William from the previous marriage. Emilia is responsible for the boy for one afternoon out of the week, and their hatred for each other seems mutual, especially since he spouts horrible comments (fed to him by his mother) about his dead half-sister.
But Emilia and William inevitably bond, mostly over their shared love for Central Park. That's not a spoiler because of course they do. We've seen this plotline a thousand times. Gruff adult hates precocious child, child charms adult, adult almost loses child, adult realizes he/she loves child. Think Big Daddy or even Savannah Smiles (anyone remember that movie?).
Still, Waldman does it well. The characters feel like real people. Emilia lies to herself, wallows in misery, misinterprets, and sometimes acts like a spoiled brat. And Waldman has four children, so it's not surprising that she paints William so perfectly. Narrator Ellen Reilly helped preserve the reality of William because the voice she did for him was perfect, childlike but with the perfect hint of smart-kid snobbery. He's a child smart beyond his years - at 3, he could recognize an anatomically incorrect stuffed dinosaur - and because of it, Emilia assigns him motives more cunning than a 5-year-old can manage. Emotionally, he is still a child, and Emilia has to realize that to fully set aside her animosity toward him.
In a book like this, where you can anticipate the outcome, it's not the ending that matters but the journey. Still, that left me without much to look forward to to keep me speeding toward the end. Though this is an abridged version, it still read slowly and dragged in the middle. I like the book, especially thinking back on it, but unlike the best books, I wasn't sad when the last CD ended.
I've never been offended by one of her columns or written in a letter to call her a "hack" for writing about her own experiences, rather than quoting psychologists and book authors. These people obviously don't understand the difference between an editorial column and a researched article.
I'll defend Waldman's column and her right to make her own choices all day long. But her novel? I'm not sure.
Love and Other Impossible Pursuits is the story of New Yorker Emilia, who has recently lost a baby girl. She "stole" her husband away from another woman, and he has a smartypants 5-year-old son William from the previous marriage. Emilia is responsible for the boy for one afternoon out of the week, and their hatred for each other seems mutual, especially since he spouts horrible comments (fed to him by his mother) about his dead half-sister.
But Emilia and William inevitably bond, mostly over their shared love for Central Park. That's not a spoiler because of course they do. We've seen this plotline a thousand times. Gruff adult hates precocious child, child charms adult, adult almost loses child, adult realizes he/she loves child. Think Big Daddy or even Savannah Smiles (anyone remember that movie?).
Still, Waldman does it well. The characters feel like real people. Emilia lies to herself, wallows in misery, misinterprets, and sometimes acts like a spoiled brat. And Waldman has four children, so it's not surprising that she paints William so perfectly. Narrator Ellen Reilly helped preserve the reality of William because the voice she did for him was perfect, childlike but with the perfect hint of smart-kid snobbery. He's a child smart beyond his years - at 3, he could recognize an anatomically incorrect stuffed dinosaur - and because of it, Emilia assigns him motives more cunning than a 5-year-old can manage. Emotionally, he is still a child, and Emilia has to realize that to fully set aside her animosity toward him.
In a book like this, where you can anticipate the outcome, it's not the ending that matters but the journey. Still, that left me without much to look forward to to keep me speeding toward the end. Though this is an abridged version, it still read slowly and dragged in the middle. I like the book, especially thinking back on it, but unlike the best books, I wasn't sad when the last CD ended.
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