Shel Graves' Sensorium

Taste: raspberries   Sight: raspberry seeds Sound: *gasp* "Khan!"; Love: whisper singing "Tainted Love" Hate: masticating, swallowing McDonald's crap of death; "Let there be, let there always be never-ending light." — VNV Nation " Perpetual "; Imogen Heap, "Earth" Touch: a flat stomach, an easy inhale Smell: watermelon   Extra: gold glitter fingernail; a golden kiss; an affable Neil Gaiman at the library, an evening reading on the lawn in fairy light; fearful of yellow food, not cholesterol-baloney, cheese, " hydrogenated oils, the most heart-damaging types of fats " Grateful for: dreaming

Taste: sweet, spicy porter; A to Z Muffins   Sight: the black stone lions; peonies (pink, magenta, and white) and Renoir's peonies   Sound: the car crash that felled the stop sign: calamitous thud; the book lovin' dental hygienist   Touch: feathered tall grass on palm   Smell: peonies and mock oranges Extra: indiscriminate exclamation points; the bank with segregated bathrooms; the orangutan my brother gave me; "Babycakes " by Neil Gaiman Grateful for: words

Exquisite. Immediately after finishing this, it went on my to-reread list. It's the first person story of Rosemary who is examining the events of her childhood and her memories of it. Rosemary's quirks are that she uses big words and while she is naturally talkative, has been silenced. There are good reasons for these traits and they are used to good effect. I loved the vocabulary of this novel (eliding, Melpomene, gamesome, psychomanteum, hypnopompic) and that it's filled with memorable, beautiful, poignant and funny phrases. Writers, read this for: Structure — The story alternates between 1979, the protagonist's childhood, and 1996, her college years. Veracity — The time period and experience of reflecting on childhood family life from the college environment has been carefully, thoughtfully created. It felt truthful and accurately portrayed. Notable: I heard the author read from this novel as a work in progress in 2011 (at WisCon 35 , a feminist science-ficti...

A pleasant read with deceptively simple storytelling that poses some big questions. (I'm writing this after my second read of the book. The first time, I breezed through it, set it aside and then was surprised how it lingered. This time, I gave it a closer read.) The narrator Dorrit Weger describes life in a world where at age 50, for women, and 60, for men, people who have not had children or made "needed" attachments become "dispensable." They are moved to group homes where they take part in research experiments and then donate organs (until their final gift) for the benefit of society. The story takes place in the utopian confines of the dispensable Unit, a windowless luxury shopping mall where everything is free and Dorrit is free to spend her time eating, exercising, writing, and forming loving relationships with the other dispensables. There's exploration, not action. Our protagonist is passive, partly how she became dispensable. At the same time...

Taste: Tofu rancheros, Garden Flora, peppercorn Sight: for the second time the fire trucks are parked in front of that house with the oxygen tanks outside; beneath the bush at the back of the parking lot in disarray are two black velvet high-heeled shoes, a recyclable water bottle and two plastic disposable cups; King Arthur Delphinium   Sound: fwhip, fwhip; ee-heeheehee Touch: hugs   Smell: natural gas; lighter fluid   Extra: "Era verde el silencio, mojada era la luz, temblaba el mes de junio como una mariposa..." “Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly...” — Pablo Neruda, Love Sonnet Grateful for: tears