Monday, January 18, 2016

bitches gotta read: shadowshaper.

wellllllllll, i'm kind of slipping with these book club posts. IT'S STILL TECHNICALLY JANUARY THO. my holiday stack of books continues to mock me every time i walk past my book shelf, as i am still trying to slog through fates and furies (am i too dumb to understand why everyone including barack obama went so apeshit over this book? probably) and i realized i never actually finished the painter by peter heller even though i really really like it so now i'm doing that, too. and i had time to read today but i didn't because i 1 had to watch that new show billions because damian lewis is my boyfriend 2 made a casserole because it was for real one degree this morning 3 had to work on my cardi b impression 4 twice attempted to make sense of that sean penn el chapo article and 5 chianti. it's safe to assume that you guys are smarter and more productive than i am (just lie to me, okay) so i will keep posting these even though i am dreadfully behind and according to goodreads am actively reading six other books at the moment. one day i will throw my tv out the window and be smart and read all the time. except broad city and house of cards are about to come back. guess i'm gonna have to give up sleeping.

the rules
1 we are never going to meet in person. that would require a bra and zippered pants and probably an expensive uber and motherfuck that. you don't have to worry about danielle's gluten allergy or that cynthia doesn't like gin. no cleaning the cat box or vacuuming the drapes or hiding the dirty laundry in the oven so your company doesn't realize what a huge slob you are. just you in your house glasses and gravy pants sobbing into your six pack of beer, the way john green intended. getting together with people you don't live next door to is hella stressful. plus, a bunch of old bitches sitting around talking about fictional teenage romance is lame. OR IS IT THO.
2 we are never going to discuss this, ever. i mean seriously. i'm going to derive pleasure from knowing that people i might possibly enjoy spending time with if i ever could bring myself to meet new people and i are falling asleep and drooling on the same book we'll probably never finish. maybe we'll talk about it on twitter or something. but even thinking about organizing that is a daunting task and i'm already exhausted. mariyam suggested making a facebook group, but is that dumb? the internet is so hard sometimes. (there is a group! it's called bitches gotta read!)
3 we are never going to shame each other about not reading the fucking book. this is the beauty of never having to meet or talk about it: i ain't gotta come up with "thoughtful questions" and you ain't gotta pretend to remember what happened at the end of chapter seven while a bunch of wine-drunk bitches you don't even like that much wait expectantly for your answer. i'll read them, but that's only in case i run into you at the 
farmer's market and you decide to pop quiz my ass.


brief internet synopsis: sierra santiago planned an easy summer of making art and hanging out with her friends. but then a corpse crashes the first party of the season. her stroke-ridden grandfather starts apologizing over and over. and when the murals in her neighborhood begin to weep real tears...well, something more sinister than the usual brooklyn ruckus is going on. with the help of a fellow artist named robbie, sierra discovers shadowshaping, a thrilling magic that infuses ancestral spirits into paintings, music, and stories. but someone is killing the shadowshapers one by one, and the killer believes sierra is hiding their greatest secret. now she must unravel her family's past, take down the killer in the present, and save the future of shadowshaping for generations to come.

SOUNDS SO GOOD, RITE. i was really into isabel allende and magical realism when i was in high school and this story makes me wistful for steel toe doc martens and ruffled poet blouses and ugly crying along with angela chase. i shaved my head and bought all my clothes at the army/navy surplus and terrified my guidance counselors but i also kept a copy of chronicle of a death foretold in my backpack at all times. what a fucking weirdo.