I read Peacekeeper: The Road to Sarajevo, by Lewis MacKenzie, over the holidays. I think it got left at my house in transit between my dad and my brother-in-law.

I picked it up out of desperation one night. It’s the least likely thing in the world for me to voluntarily read. But you know what? I couldn’t put it down. Literally. I read while baking shortbread, pretending to listen to my kids, brushing my teeth…

What I learned is that the UN is messed up (think I knew that already) and that Lewis MacKenzie is one outspoken guy. A loose canon, if that phrase wasn’t completely inappropriate while talking about peacekeeping. My sister tells me that after this book came out, all Canadian peacekeepers had to sign confidentiality agreements. Hmmm… wonder why…

A fascinating read for a tea-and-shortbread girl like me. I even went to the VPL website to request his other book. But then… once there… I just couldn’t press the request button. I couldn’t read another war book so soon. I had to find a trashy romance to recover my equilibrium.

If you read Red is Best to your three-year-old on your Christmas holiday, you should be prepared to do the following:

1. re-read the book twenty-five more times, immediately, consecutively, and enthusiastically;

2. have red clothes laundered and ready to be worn for the next several days;

3. attempt to explain why anyone’s mother would even bother to suggest brown mittens;

4. hear repeatedly, for days, “my mother doesn’t understand about red”; and,

5. unpack the suitcase in which you packed Red is Best for your morning departure, because book must be read again, immediately. See point number one, above.

Happy New Year! I am back to the blogosphere, and looking for advice. Because really, getting four new books for Christmas is like meeting four hot guys at the same time… which to date first? (Speaking metaphorically, of course, Min.)

On the other hand, do I really have to choose? Or can I just date them all at once… at least until things get serious?

Dear Mr. Hage:

I will not be reading De Niro’s Game. I hope you’re not too disappointed. I know you won the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award and I hear the prize for that is €100,000, so maybe that will help salve the wound if not absolutely everyone can tackle your book.

I really did try to read it, twice. But then I had this conversation:

Me: I’m trying to read it, again, so I can give your copy back sometime this century. I’m finding it very… male.

Carl: It is very male.

Me: The main character is difficult to like.

Carl: Yes, he’s unlikeable. But you really get to see how living in a place like Beirut changes you into something else.

And after that bleak conversation, I decided not to bother. I hereby concede that living in Beirut would change me.

Best of luck with your career,
Tanya

Check out these clever “ads from the future” hanging in the Copenhagen airport. I found them on the Good blog.

A couple years ago at an awards gala, I sat beside a highly successful writer who had flown in for the occasion, apparently from the land of I-am-obscenely-famous. He was… let me use my Grandmother’s words… much too big for his britches. In fact, if his britches were a size small, he was an extra large. He spent all of his time leaning back in his chair, his feet sprawled out in front of him, expostulation on book tours and the difficulties of dealing with publicists and the fatiguing nature of air travel.

And then he started in on blogs. And lamented that he hadn’t worn his T-shirt that said, “I don’t want to read your blog.”

There were about eight other writers at his table and he hadn’t asked if anyone blogged before he began on this topic, so I’m guessing I wasn’t the only one quietly watching him and thinking, “I bet you didn’t have a single date in high school.” Because really, with social skills like that, you’d better hope that your books skyrocket to the top of the charts and you never have to earn your living as a bartender.

This touching scene has come back to me because… could this be true?… Is Margaret Atwood really blogging? And is she blogging about apparently nothing, just like the rest of us blog? Okay, maybe she has her staff blog for her, but still. This really does appear to be a Margaret Atwood blog. And if she had been at that awards ceremony, Mr. Britches, her line-up would have been WAY longer than yours.

I’ve done it. I’ve finally opened De Niro’s Game. And I was right! There are bombs in the first sentence. But, it was all quite gripping anyway…

I always love the comments — both kind and snarky — at Jacket Whys. This latest post talked about the overwhelming brownness of one particular cover, and it struck me that that’s why I was having so much trouble picking up either of the two books on my bedside table: cover turn-off.

I’ve even read The Wife Tree before. And I know I liked it. But look at this depressing starkness:

How is that going to cheer my December?

And the other book waiting for me is De Niro’s Game, which my friend Carl lent to me, oh, approximately forever ago. Now I realize why I haven’t cracked the cover. Just look at it. It’s practically dripping blood. It’s reminding me of the time Min tricked me into seeing Blade by telling me it was a love story.

What I really need is a novel with a nice sunrise on the cover. Some spring flowers. A tropical beach. It’s time to write to Santa. Or, better yet, to Mrs. Claus.

Rachelle Delaney posted her Top 10 list in response to my Top 10, and on her list… breakfast cereal.

Now, breakfast cereal is one of three things that, during my cash-strapped UVic era (and my cash-strapped post-UVic era), I swore I would one day buy weekly. The other two things were hardcover books and shirts. (Let’s admit that I’ve never had particularly lofty goals. Except for that small matter of a Governor General’s Award.)

Now, the appeal of my post-grad list has faded a little. Mostly, I work from home. There are only so many shirts I can wear to amuse myself. For a while, I considered working in a tennis outfit, just because they look fun, but really… those things are chilly. So, I rotate my small stock of shirts.

Hardcover books? Beautiful. And heavy as heck, thus hard on the wrists when reading in bed or in the bath. Also, a pain to store afterwards.

Breakfast cereal is still the most appealing of the three. But I’m trying to feed my kids healthy, whole-grain- and fruit-infused breakfasts and somehow I get sucked into eating them myself instead of the Honey Nut. It is wonderful as a midnight snack, though…

When traveling in Greece (13 years ago — ack!) my friend Adam came up with a list of his ten favorite things in the world. They weren’t big things, no lottery winnings or sports cars. The ones I remember were “grey T-shirts” and “olives.”

I can’t think of everything on my list at the time, but I do remember it featured “breakfast.” That one is here to stay.

My revised and updated list:
1. Breakfast
2. Brand new notebooks
3. Colored paperclips
4. Chocolate Arts truffles
5. Swimming in lakes
6. Secret rooms
7. Cheese
8. Foghorns
9. Marmots
10. Roll-top desks

What are the top items on your list?