Cannonball - Book 1

Things I've Learned from Women Who've Dumped Me, edited by Ben Karlin

Originally the plan was for Amanda and I to start Cannonball on February 1st, but we got impatient and decided to start early.  So our year of reading starts today and I am already finished my first book!


I decided to start off with something light, to get my confidence up.  A short book of funny essays was a perfect choice.  I breezed right through it.  The book is a series of essays (the topic of which is explained pretty succinctly in the title) by comedians.  Most of the essays were pretty good, some were not so good, some just made me feel uncomfortable*.  The nice thing about a book like this is that, because the pieces are so short (there are 47 of them, in total), even when I was not really enjoying one of them I knew that I would be getting to a new one soon.  It makes it easy to just keep on reading.


One of the things that worries me most about this whole endeavor is that I am a person who is prone to abandoning books halfway through.  I have never understood people who, once the start a book, insist on finishing it no matter what, even if they hate it.  My sister does this, and it is a quality I find simultaneously admirable and infuriating.  I am not at all interested in reading books that I will not enjoy (although I will often set books like this aside and hope that I will be able to enjoy them someday, when I am smarter and more focused and my tastes have evolved), but I also don't want to be labeled a quitter, even though that it what I am.  I am a book quitter.  


Or, at least, I was a book quitter.  I can't really afford to be one anymore.  The rules of Cannonball do not permit half-books, and I did not think far enough ahead to include them in my amendment of the rules of Cannonball.  I am doomed, for the next year, to finish what I start.  Wish me luck.


Page count: 221
Up next: Open, by Andre Agassi




*In fact, the only thing that really made me feel uncomfortable was Dan Savage's downright gruesome description of the female genitalia.  I really would prefer never to think about it again, but suffice it to say that the phrase "hairy lasagna" was involved.

#127 - I Know I Haven't Been A Perfect Man

And I've avoided doing things I know I can

So I have been waffling back and forth a little bit on this whole Cannonball Read thing. 100 books in a year is a lot of books. But, I think I can do it. I'm really looking forward to it, actually. That being said, I have two reservations about the rules. The first is the length requirement (all books need to be at least 200 pages, short story collections must have at least six stories), the second is the no graphic novels rule. The reason these rules worry me is not that they deprive me from the opportunity to "cheat" or take the easy way out as far as the challenge goes, but that I don't like the idea that there are restrictions on what I can be reading for an entire year.

The Great Gatsby has been on my to-read list for a while and I think Cannonball Read would be a great time to get to it, however, some editions meet the 200 page requirement and some do not. So that seems a little arbitrary.

Also, even though I read very few graphic novels, I have very much been looking forward to Likewise by Ariel Schrag. It's the last in a series and I would probably have gotten to it already but I haven't been able to track it down.

Do you see my problem? Most of the books on the list I've made for Cannonball so far meet all the requirements, but even so, I don't like the idea of doing a reading challenge that actually prevents me from reading certain things that I want to read. What if I find Likewise in Chapters one day but can't read it because it is against the rules and I am to busy reading 200 page, strictly text-based novels? That would be the worst.

Would it be sacrilege for me to modify the rules slightly by making the page limit thing a little more flexible, and allowing a certain number of graphic novels. Like five, or something?

I don't want to take the easy way out, but I also want to be able to read the things I want to read.

#126 - I Don't Know Why

There's no sun up in the sky

I went and saw A Single Man this afternoon at the Bytowne, which is my favourite movie theatre ever. It was so, so sad and so, so good. I heard a review describe the way he felt at the end of the movie as the way you feel after a really long cry, which is an incredibly apt description that I wish I had though of myself. The movie is sad, but instead of being depressing it is kind of cathartic.

It is also aesthetically beautiful in a way that I haven't seen in a long time. Tom Ford directed it, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised at how gorgeous everything is. The clothes are absolutely amazing. Look at Julianne Moore. Just look at her.












Is that not the most glamourous thing you have ever seen? Even though she is kind of teary? Her cigarettes are pink, for Christ's sake. Also, look at her freckle-y arms. I am incredibly jealous of people who have freckles.

Also, every single man who is onscreen for more than 2 seconds in this film is completely beautiful.

Colin Firth. Beautiful.

Matthew Goode. Beautiful.

Nicholas Hoult. Beautiful.

Lee Pace. Beautiful.

Whoever this guy is.










Beautiful.

Even Jon Hamm, who you don't even see, you only hear his voice (which is incredibly distinctive, I recognized it right away), is beautiful. It is ridiculous. All the women are beautiful too, but that is pretty standard. A lot of movies are filled with great looking women and comparatively average looking dudes. Tom Ford discriminates against unattractive people of all genders, equally. I appreciate that.

The lesson, I suppose, is that more gay men should direct movies.