There's something new in the air...

Hmm, what is it? Oh my God! I think I know. It's...it's...it's...A NEW BLOG!

That's right, folks. June Road is going pro. From now on, go to amyjune.net to find out what's on the bookshelf. Featuring MUCH more content, including video, it's going to be so totally exciting compared with this silly old thing. (Oh, by the way, there's not much content at this very instant, but there WILL be.) Just letting you know...

Thanks!

-Amy June

Education of A Wandering Man by Louis L'Amour

In his sophomore year of high school, Louis L'Amour left school to get an education. Yes, you heard me right; he left school to get an education. It sounds counterintuitive, yet L'Amour's memoir verifies everything I have always suspected about education, which is that one does not have to go to school to get one.

Within the first few pages, he states, "No matter how much I admire our schools, I know that no university exists that can provide an education; what a university can provide is an outline, to give a learner a direction and guidance. The rest one has to do for oneself." Thus, after deciding to leave high school, L'Amour set out to pursue his own education, which he did mainly through reading and life experience.

My God, did that man read. From Nietzsche to Shakespeare, from Hemingway to Wolfe, plus every volume of history he could get his hands on, L'Amour was finishing anywhere from 100 to 120 books per year. This was no light reading, either.

In supplement to the books he read, wherever L'Amour traveled (and he traveled all over the world, working odd jobs), he sought out knowledgeable individuals who would talk to him about the vast history of the area. While others who traveled with him spent their downtime in local bars, L'Amour was busy hearing stories from locals, reading books, and ultimately learning.

His utter fascination with history is so contagious that I promise you will be thirsting for knowledge by the end of this memoir. It is a must-read, even if the only thing you glean from it is that you should read even more. Inspiring and humbling, I would unquestionably suggest this one to everyone. (How's that for a decisive recommendation, Kyle?)

Durable Goods by Elizabeth Berg

Lately I've felt a little bogged-down by my reading choices. It seems that I've been reading nothing but memoirs and classics, which are wonderful, but not always easy to get through. It's not that I want them to be easy, only that, every once in a while, I need a break. Thus, I recently turned to Elizabeth Berg for a little fluff in my life. No, I'm not talking about the popular marshmallow sandwich spread; I'm talking about a light, straightforward read. Nothing too challenging, just something that goes down smooth, but still requires some thought so as not to be a waste of time.

That's pretty much what I got with Berg's charming and thoughtful novel, Durable Goods. It's a story told through the eyes of Katie, who is a young girl on the brink of adolescence. She lives on an army base with her physically abusive, emotionally distant father, her preoccupied older sister, and the constant memory of her deceased mother. I suppose that when I lay it out like that, it all sounds quite tragic and depressing, but Katie is a resilient girl who handles her circumstances with odd poise. The pity you might feel for her is replaced with fond affection.

You can read this book in a day. The prose is simple and straightforward in a dreamy sort of way, and there's this feeling of gently slipping into the story as if it were a melody, so that before you know what's happened, you've effortlessly floated through to the last page without hardly realizing it. The perfect refresher book, it's sure to gear you up for whatever you pull down from the bookshelf next.

Disclamer: When I say "fluff," I really don't mean it as an insult. There are some novels that just make for more deep, impacting, and laborious reads than others. I admire all writers, whether they write short "fluffy" stories, thousand-page sagas, sonnets dealing with life and love, or haikus dealing with the aromatic qualities of a banana peel. Perhaps I should find a kinder word than "fluff," but until I come up with one, it'll have to do. Just understand, I don't mean it rudely.

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokav

Twisted and beautiful: this is how I would sum up Nabokav's famously controversial novel, Lolita. Twisted, because the narrator is an older man who lusts after young girls, and beautiful, because Nabokav's prose is so elegant, so appealing, that one cannot help reading on in foolish fascination.

The novel follows the narrator, Humbert Humbert, on his road trips around the country with the young "nymphet" Dolores Haze, who he professes to be in love with. To the outside world, they are stepfather and stepdaughter, but behind closed doors, they are lovers, which makes for a curious and altogether disturbing relationship.

This novel is unlike anything I've ever read, really. It has the unique ability to appall and to amaze, to make you hang off of Humbert's every word even while you are doubting his very sanity and trustworthiness as a narrator. Read it. Love it. Lolita.

Official Acknowledgment of Slackery

Okay, so I've slacked off. BUT, I have a really amazing excuse. You see, I was in New York City, and one can hardly focus on blogging when in New York City (perhaps that's my resistance speaking...and if you read my last post, you'd know what I am talking about). Ah, but resistance or no resistance, I have not blogged because I was be-bopping my way around the city that never sleeps, and having a grand time of it. Umm, if you want, you can see some pictures from the trip here:

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/album.php?aid=2324736&id=5810472

Anyway, though I accomplished nothing tangible while in New York City, I did get a crap-ton of thinking done, and I was even able to work out the beginnings of a personal essay dealing with the subject of patience while I visited the bustling metropolis. All of this thought did not go to waste, either, because on the plane ride home, I busted out two pages of the aforementioned essay in a flurry of inspiration.

So, don't fret, dear readers (all two of you); I will be posting more book reviews and trivial tidbits, and I will be doing so on a regular basis (unless, of course, I am interrupted by another spontaneous trip to some exotic place...however, that is unlikely). Stay tuned!

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield

I was in a slump, a creative slump, and then I read The War of Art. I didn't think much of it when a friend offered to lend it to me one day. I was in the middle of, oh, four of five other books, and because I work in a book store, I buy, on average, two more books every day. Books, books, books! My life was filled with books, so this particular one slipped my mind until, one afternoon, my friend produced it from his backpack and placed it into my hands.

Folks, let me tell you, I snapped to attention at the first paragraph, and hungrily read until the last. I do not exaggerate when I say that everyone who considers themselves an artist (whether they be a painter, a writer, a musician, a playwright, etc.) should read this book, and read it now! Perhaps you, like me, have dreams of accomplishing creative projects, but you procrastinate, awaiting grand bursts of inspiration that never come. This book is for you.

Pressfield takes a no-nonsense approach to art. On the very last page of the book, he asks, "are you a born writer? Were you put on earth to be a painter, a scientist, an apostle of peace? In the end the question can only be answered by action. Do it or don't do it." And that, my friends, is the summation of this book. "Do it or don't do it." And if you choose to do it, Pressfield can point you in the right direction.