Author: clock

While I panned In Danger’s Path, I enjoyed The Hostage from W.E.B. Griffin for one reason: I listened to it. As an unabridged audiobook which doesn’t demand much attention, nor require a constant memory of the previous character “development,” The Hostage swallowed many boring driving hours for me this summer and fall. I have other audio books I’d prefer to catch up with, but actual physical CDs are hard to beat in the cars I drive.

Still, I would not go out of my way to listen to W.E.B Griffin again.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

Another one from my brother, The Associate by John Grisham, doesn’t stick in my mind at all. I know I read it this summer, but until I dug up the website right now, I didn’t remember a fraction of the story.

Now that I’ve refreshed my memory, well, it’s an airplane book, with a few hints of the delicious fun of The Firm and others, but not quite there. I suppose the best part is that Grisham keeps writing, and isn’t paralyzed by trying to match some of his early success.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

Until this summer, I never picked up any of the “50 million copies in print” of W.E.B. Griffin’s novels. In Danger’s Path is one of The Corps series, and the American military in World War II is able to get some people and radios into the deserts of China. There’s a lot along the way, but honestly, I finished this one (on August 15th) only because I’m stubborn about finishing books I start.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson lay around the house for years before I read it this summer.

The subtitle “Murder, Magic and Madness at the Fair That Changed America” underlines the book’s strength and weakness. Larson is telling two stories, and I found his weaving a bit crude and forced. The first story, the history of the 1893 Columbian Exposition from inspiration to remarkable execution, fascinated me. The second story, bringing to life an early serial killer, is all too modern, despite the late 19th century Chicago setting. The urban growth goosed by the Exposition may have also given the murderer an increasing supply of victims, but I didn’t find them more than coincidental.

As a side note, which reinforces the point, Larson plays with the story of the Exposition’s main attraction. I didn’t know the Ferris wheel came from the 1893 fair, as a response to the Eiffel Tower of the last world fair. It sounds remarkable, but teasing out the punchline made the story a bit too much of a gotcha, as if Larson were revealing the #1 hit in a countdown of the year’s best.

Telling a great popular history is nothing to be ashamed of. Larson didn’t need to tart up the tale with a police procedural. Despite my concerns over the competing stories, I enjoyed the event enough that this general topic remains on my “to read” list.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

This business book was a freebie, and I got little more than what I paid for it. Waiting for Your Cat to Bark? Persuading Customers When They Ignore Marketing just isn’t new stuff after a decade-plus of different people (notably Seth Godin) telling us how marketing is changing.

I suppose the lessons and anecdotes presented are not obvious to all readers.

But I’ve been playing close attention and living in this world for too long to learn much from this book by Bryan and Jeffrey Eisenberg. That disappointed me, because I am interested, personally and professionally. Also, I wasn’t impressed that cattobark.com, the book’s website, responds with a Windows server error right now. That doesn’t quite match the internet expert persona put forth in their 2006 book.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

I read the excerpt of Grant Wahl’s article in Sports Illustrated first. After that appetizer, I was grateful to my brother for providing the full book of The Beckham Experiment.

Not much to add here, so many months after the fact, except that I’m amazed the Galaxy played so well this season, with Beckham and Donovan finding a way to play the game and put the previous year — with all its now-public dirty laundry — behind them. True professionals, after all.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

There are two more books I read in 2009, but I’m not going to record them tonight. Soldiers of Reason, a history of the RAND Corporation, and The Contractor, a spy novel, were both library pickups, and interesting in different ways, but I’ll give them their own posts soon.

The many movies I saw but neglected to blog in 2009 may get a single wrap-up post in the new year, and then I’ll reconsider my policy of capturing my major media consumption. Creating rather than consuming matters to me, but I want this blog to be fun to write again, not a duty. And I want to think about things beyond books and movies. I do, but you wouldn’t know it from what’s here recently.

Happy New Year a bit early. Here’s to an engaging Twenty10.

(This is the last post of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

I should be ashamed to admit that I read Ted Bell’s Pirate. And I am, mildly. Still, I bounce around in my reading, and candy has its place among the food groups, too (or something like that). If I’m going to record the books I’ve read, I want to capture all of it. I certainly don’t want to make the mistake of reading this one again. A weak James Bond wannabe tale, Pirate doesn’t have much beyond the clichés. Oh well. I won’t pick up any of Bell’s other single-word titles.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

Another Doctorow paperback pickup, Eastern Standard Tribe thrilled me more than his earlier novel. With a simple yet imaginative idea, Doctorow makes corporate espionage seem like a new story. The concept — that allegiances and tastes run by time zone, not nation-state — is presented as fact, not explained…which is for the best. Just set the foundation, and then tell the story from that slightly skewed foundation and see where it goes. It doesn’t hurt that the protagonist is a user experience designer, and Doctorow gets in several jabs at the music industry’s shortsightedness.

I’ll have to read his third novel sometime.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)

Better: A Surgeon’s Notes on Performance by Atul Gawande displays the same quiet curiosity and caring that carry his writing in the New Yorker. When health care stays top of mind, it’s pleasant and reassuring to have some honesty about the ways we can improve and which problems really are hard for us to solve. I read the paperback mid-year, after the New Yorker article which walked through different models for national health care. This topic won’t go away, so I hope Gawande keeps chiming in.

(This is part of my end-of-the-year rush to capture my major media consumption before the year actually comes to a close.)