Reader's Exchange : Readers Exchange, Round Rock

Scooping the relocation market

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 20:35:00 GMT

Call me a concerned citizen: this issue has been on my mind ever since its mention on the Colbert Report.  It touches on two subjects close to my heart: ice cream and Round Rock.

Stephen Colbert boasts of his own Ben & Jerry's ice cream variety: AmeriCone Dream--vanilla with fudge-covered waffle cone pieces and caramel. Jimmy Fallon has his own blend: Late Night Snack-- fair trade vanilla, fudge-covered potato chip clusters, salty caramel swirl.   Shouldn't someone market an ice cream flavor for Round Rock?

Ben & Jerry's, noted for delicious and witty combinations (e.g., Economic Crunch), many of which honor other influential personalities, deserves credit for a winning concept. But shouldn't this distinction also be conferred upon a historic place, a vibrant community affording shelter and employment to thousands?

Not that Texas doesn't offer many other attractive locales: anyone contemplating relocation can easily utilize websites like Homefair to call up side-by-side data views for various towns. You can select similar cities or even compare one zip code in the same city to another zip code area. The list of factors you can survey includes educational attainment among citizens, school test scores, property values, commute times, pollution, and many other points.

I couldn't help noticing, however, that the "discernment and creativity quotient" is not represented.  Round Rock should score well there.  Don't outsiders need to know that, in addition to the inducements of Dell, Ikea, a picturesque downtown, inviting parks and trails, a baseball team, and a huge stone resembling a flattened toadstool, our citizenry exhibits good taste to the point of actually packaging it?

And what better way to exemplify our zest for fun and dairy products? With all due respect to Ben & Jerry's, though, we'd want someone closer to home vending our signature flavor nationwide.

Blue Bell's Homemade Vanilla, admittedly perfect as is, would serve as the sweet foil for a quirky slate of ingredients, say cinnamon pecans and bits of Round Rock doughnuts ribboned with red pepper jelly. We could call it Round Rock Revel. (I suppose that another thriving suburb to the north would just go with Plano Vanilla.)

While this concept is still theoretical, there's plenty of time for others to lobby their favorite ice cream producers with your own distinctive combinations. Just think of it: Round Rocky Road, Espresso Swirl Express, Brushy Creek Brickle....

...And a squirrel in a live oak tree

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 22:05:00 GMT

I have elected not to heed the holiday gift suggestions from major advertisers (i.e., buy everyone on your shopping list a car, big-screen TV, or smartphone.)

But here's a prime reading tip for you or for a guest who arrives at your house having already finished all his/her bestsellers while languishing in airports. Stef Penney's The Tenderness of Wolves is a wonderful find. Penney's forthcoming The Invisible Ones is due out in January. When reviewers find an author's second novel "mesmerizing" but still harken fondly back to the first novel, you know you have to get your hands on the earlier one--now.

The Tenderness of Wolves--Costa Award winner for 2006--represents wide appeal: a crime to solve, a historical, adventurous setting (1867 in Canada's Northern Territory); and the sort of accomplished prose and characterization that prompts you to pester your true love with "let me just read you a couple of lines."

And speaking of your true love, please consider my local interpretation of a classic holiday song. For each traditional gift, I spotted a modern equivalent in our library catalog. The Twelve Days of Christmas don't begin until December 25, but don't wait to come by or log on to enjoy your library:

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming
CD: Global Drum Project

Eleven pipers piping
Nonfiction book: Highlander: The History of the Legendary Highland Soldier (or, Ultimate Guide to Plumbing: Complete Projects for the Home)

Ten lords a-leaping
DVD: BBC Series The Tudors

Nine ladies dancing
Nonfiction book: American Rose...The Life and Times of Gypsy Rose Lee

Eight maids a-milking
Fiction book: Moo: A Novel by Jane Smiley

Seven swans a-swimming
Fiction book or CD audio: The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova

Six geese a-laying
Children's book: Spinster Goose: Twisted Rhymes for Naughty Children

Five golden rings
Nonfiction: The Green Bride Guide: How to Create an Earth-Friendly Wedding on any Budget

Four calling birds
Children's book: Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus

Three French hens
Nonfiction: Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes

Two turtle doves
Fiction book: Major Pettigrew's Last Stand

And a partridge in a pear tree
Library database: Grzimek's Animal Life Encyclopedia

Gambling on the perfect book

Linda Sappenfield — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 16:40:00 GMT

For someone who's not a big risk-taker, I venture possible rejection and failure on a daily basis. I can't decide which is the more serious gamble--recommending books to total strangers, or assuring friends and family that I have just the title for them.

People near and dear to you generally won't pretend that they liked something if they didn't. That's why a recent chat with dinner guests was so gratifying. My husband praised Samuel Butler's The Way of All Flesh as "the finest book ever written", and guess who suggested he try it? Actually, when I read it I was so distracted by the anticipation of how delightful he'd find it that I probably missed entire passages.

Not all my literary advice merits rapturous feedback. After handing The Swan Thieves to a friend with "loved it and think you will, too" certification, I awaited a glowing response. The actual verdict? "Not bad; I'd give it a B." Not what I'd hoped, but you should know that a second-tier score from such a discerning critic is still admirable.

Our daughter's utter rejection of a children's classic documents my worst misfire, destined to live on in family lore. Back when purchasing a brand-new item from a bookstore was a rare treat, we presented her with Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are. We did notice that she never picked it for the bedtime story but just figured that Little Black, A Pony was enjoying an extra-long interval of favor.

Realization dawned (finally) during setup for our garage sale. Wild Things repeatedly and mysteriously appeared on the "three for a dollar" table. My husband and I discovered it and restored it to the house multiple times. Finally, our five-year-old stomped out to the garage, deposited the offending volume amidst the other offerings and announced, "I think it's time to let this book fire some other child's imagination."

Undeterred by that fiasco, I offer this guidance: if you're seeking a Sendak classic for a youngster's gift, The Nutshell Library might be a safer choice.

Book of virtue?

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 21:52:00 GMT

I don't own any of the "So Many Books, So Little Time" paraphernalia marketed to librarians and other book lovers. I'm not sure whether it's because those items are so common as to be no longer fun or because they sound a little boastful.

A love of reading belongs in the same category as being a natural early riser (an oxymoron, in my opinion) or preferring broccoli over brownies--preferences often mistaken for virtues, which they clearly are not. In each case, the individual behaves in the manner most comfortable to him/her. Also, in each instance the reader, early bird, or vegetable aficionado is rewarded--with entertainment and knowledge, the appearance of a great work ethic, and nutrition. Isn't virtue supposed to be its own reward?

My husband presented my daughter and me with tickets to last night's performance of Wicked. We set out for the event quite early, wishing to avoid any anxiety associated with traffic or parking. Arriving well ahead of time, we settled into our seats with knitting (daughter) and a just-published novel (me). During intermission, the novel came out again, and I immersed myself almost instantly in a pivotal middle chapter--so much so that, when the curtain began to rise again, signaling the continuation of the wonderfully entertaining production, I admit that my first instinctive reaction was "Awwww, guess I'll have to finish this later." At least I didn't say it aloud.

Love reading? Yes. Proud of it? Sometimes, not so much!

Movies better than books? Not inconceivable

Linda Sappenfield — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 22:10:00 GMT

A couple of expert movie watchers have shared their views (see comments for If Film Viewing is Wrong...), even raising this question: Are we allowed to believe that some movies are better than books? I hope so, because a couple instantly came to mind.

Surpassing the quality of an excellent book is a challenge, but, at least for this viewer, Gettysburg did that. Michael Shaara's The Killer Angels, the novel behind it, is a top-notch narrative. However, the film version seemed even more effective in relating military decisions to the experiences and personalities of the leaders responsible for them.

To Kill a Mockingbird comes as close to perfect as a book gets, but the casting and sensory impressions of Southern culture in the movie trumped even that. And then there was Gregory Peck, about whom no further comment is required.

Sound, movement, and costumes don't constitute an unfair advantage over print when you consider how many poor choices they make possible. We've all seen productions so laden with inappropriate period details (think Western heroines sporting bouffant hairstyles and zippers, or World War I movies with equipment not invented until World War II) that even a masterful plot lost credibility early on. And, given that we all picture the characters in precise detail while we read, the casting director's picks are guaranteed to alienate at least some viewers.

So, book vs. movie is probably a fair fight. One of the rules in that contest should be that a movie inspired by the book should retain the same title as the book. Fans intrigued by a screen version and wishing to follow up with the novel could proceed so much more happily if they weren't presented with a riddle to solve on the way to the bookshelf.

In some instances, a film actually flatters the book, either by taking a slight but interesting premise and developing it more fully or by editing the contents beautifully. The Princess Bride comes to mind...

Getting a Reputation

Linda Sappenfield — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 21:30:00 GMT

It's a momentous week to launch a new blog. Michael Jackson's death has inspired all sorts of musings regarding what his music meant to whom and when. His legions of fans include so many in our area, and yet I heard someone on KUT radio observe that "Austin isn't really Michael Jackson country". A city known for quirky tastes and musical diversity, Austin is not easily identified as anyone's turf, certainly not that of a pop icon.

Everyone knows that Austin is enviably weird and progressive. In Round Rock, Cedar Park, Georgetown, and other such places, we're still discovering which choices demonstrate our character.

Reading preferences express so much about a community. Comments offered at the library here in Round Rock are intriguing, but we'd like to hear much more from readers, library users or not. What do you love to read? Avoid reading? (And are there stories explaining why?) What favorite author do you see languishing on the shelf and wish others would encounter?

Share your thoughts and critiques about books, authors, new formats such as Kindle and mp3, or any other reader-ly opinions with us here. What we read is who we are!