En l’honneur du Readathon, je vous fait un super copier-coller d’un article lu hier soir sur Barnes and Noble (lien vers l’article original ici) qui m’a bien fait rire hier soir. Et réaliser que je ne suis pas la seule cinglée sur cette terre, vu qu’on prend la peine d’en faire un billet! Ça s’applique presque tout à moi, sauf le numéro 87. Je ne suis jamais surprise par un Whodunit, ou presque, c’est ma malédiction!
Alors, lesquels s’appliquent le plus à vous?
Dans mon cas, je vote pour les numéros 29, 62 et 65 (le coup du téléphone – et des factures – je me le fais TOUT LE TEMPS!).
Désolée, je suis un peu paresseuse pour traduire… Mais s’il y a des problès de compréhension, je serai gentille et le ferai en commentaires! Précisez juste quel numéro vous voulez!
Bon samedi… de lecture pour moi!
THE READING LIFE
99 Book Nerd Problems
1. You’ll never get to read your favorite book again for the first time.
2. The weird look your coworkers give you when they find out your “awesome weekend” primarily took place between the pages of a book.
3. People who say, “You do know it’s just a book, right?”
4. No boss will let you take a sick day because Beth March just died.
5. The mark on your wall from where you threw your book after the Red Wedding.
6. Books so scary you have to put them in the closet/under a stack of dictionaries/in the freezer before you can go to sleep.
7. Books so sexy you worry reading them in public view constitutes sexual harassment.
8. Books so funny you become that person laughing alone at a restaurant.
9. Hiding in the work bathroom with a book is damaging your reputation.
10. Don’t fall in love with fictional dogs. Just…don’t.
11. Those blank pages at the end of old books that trick you into thinking you’ve got more left than you actually do.
12. The distinctive facial ridging pattern you get from falling asleep on a nice, heavy hardback.
13. Only four pages to go!…and it’s your train stop.
14. Only four pages to go!…and your doctor’s ready to see you now.
15. Only four pages to go!…and it’s time to walk down the aisle.
16. Being prisoner to a book so good you’re unable to think of or do anything else till you’ve turned the last page.
17. Purses that can’t fit even a paperback.
18. Getting book spoilers from HBO.
19. Worrying about George Weasley for the rest of your life.
21. Wanting to reread the most amazing book you read when you were a kid, but all you can remember is that it had a…girl in it. And maybe a train. Or a mirror or something.
22. Ripply book bottoms from reading in the bath.
23. Cracked spines.
24. Uncracked spines.
25. ”I’m just not that into books.” –Your date, before the drinks have even come.
26. The wait between installments.
27. Books that won’t stay open when you’re trying to read and eat a sandwich at the same time.
28. Worrying about your favorite author’s health (for selfish reasons).
29. Tiny factual inconsistencies that ruin the entire book for you.
30. Expanded universe fiction you can’t get down with.
31. That thing where authors have lives, but us readers have NEEDS.
32. The pro/con of loaning out your favorite book: everyone should read it/you’ll never see it again.
33. Skipping a birthday party because you need to know what happens next (and it’s your own birthday).
34. Missing pages.
35. 400 bedtime readings later, and Love You Forever still makes you weep.
36. Miscasting in adaptations.
37. Deleted characters in adaptations.
38. The inability to stop telling people how it *really* happened when they’re trying to watch an adaptation.
39. None of your friends wanting to watch adaptations with you anymore, because you’re so, um, outspoken about them.
40. The way Jane Austen ruined us for modern dating.
41. The way Stephen King ruined us for ever being able to sleep soundly in an old hotel.
42. The way J.K. Rowling made us all into self-loathing Muggles.
43. The way George R. R. Martin feeds off reader dismay the way Dementors feed off souls.
44. No matter how many times you read it, the sad parts of your favorite book always happen just the same.
45. Other people’s marginalia.
46. Chocolate stains right on the best part (cause you’ve reread it so many times).
47. Feeling like you have to “forgive” your loved ones for not adequately appreciating your favorite book.
48. Ereader, meet hand lotion.
49. Paper cuts.
50. Dropping a book on your face while reading on your back.
51. Talking to yourself while reading in public because it’s that good.
52. Realizing that you’re accidentally reading lines of dialogue out loud in public because your book is that engrossing.
53. Finishing all your reading material on your second day of vacation.
54. Finishing all your reading material halfway through your flight.
55. People who greet the sight of the book you’re reading with, “Oh, isn’t that the one where [insert spoiler here]?”
56. Mispronouncing words because you’ve never actually heard them out loud—you’ve only read them in books.
57. Wishing you could send every child you meet to Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle.
58. Foxed corners.
59. Remembering too late that the anecdote you’re relating actually happened to a fictional character, not your friend.
60. Still following beauty tips you learned from Judy Blume.
61. Remembering Scarlett O’Hara’s first kiss better than you remember your own.
62. Nobody takes you seriously when you say you hurt your wrist holding up a Charles Dickens omnibus.
63. Reading a book so good it (temporarily) ruins you for everything else on your shelves.
64. People respect not wanting to pause a movie way more than they respect not wanting to pause a book.
65. Using your phone as a bookmark, forgetting you’ve done so, not finding it till hours later.
66. (Using unpaid bills as bookmarks is an even worse idea.)
67. The fall from favor of the pocket-sized paperback. (There is no sexier accessory.)
68. Family members who don’t respect shelving protocol.
69. The depression that falls after reading the last book in a trilogy.
70. Finishing the best book ever before anyone else you know, and having no one to talk to about it.
71. Finishing the MOST INFURIATING book ever before anyone else you know, and having no one to talk to about it.
72. The scary stuff you find in the pages of borrowed books.
73. The scary stains you find in the pages of borrowed books.
74. Diagnosing yourself incapable of safely finishing a book after realizing that the villain is giving you rage blackouts.
75. People who assume your book is a prop, a crutch, or a conversation starter. (Sometimes it’s the third one. But usually you just want to read.)
76. Racing through a book to find out how it ends…and discovering when you get there that it’s just book one in a projected trilogy.
77. People who hate on books they’ve never read.
78. Some people start talking in a British accent after a one-week trip to London. You started talking like Hagrid after reading 50 pages of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. (Neither is great.)
79. That thing where your preferred dinner conversation is dependent on everyone else’s deep knowledge of your current read.
80. Hand-wringing articles that claim nobody reads anymore.
81. Your mind’s so stuck in your book that you experience a mild shock when you look in the mirror and don’t see Jane Eyre. Or James Bond. Or Hercule Poirot.
82. The unfair stigma attached to books included on required-reading lists.
83. ”I just want to look really quick.” –Famous last words, spoken just before you enter the bookstore
84. Starting a new series, accidentally buying book two first.
85. Having stacks of unread books that you just can’t get rid of because you KNOW someday they’ll be the exact perfect read that you must have at that very moment.
86. Your bedtime lies somewhere between 11 p.m. and whenever this book stops being so. damn. good.
87. Always being surprised by whodunnit, even when you suspect it’s pretty obvious.
88. Trying to force yourself to finish a long read by bringing it—and only it—on a flight. Ending up readingSkymall cover to cover instead.
89. The concern that some of the books in your house have become load-bearing stacks.
90. A book haul that overcomes the tensile strength of your tote bag.
91. Finding out distractingly awful things about the personal lives of your favorite authors.
92. The inescapable urge to thump the back of every wardrobe you encounter.
93. Publicly snort laughing at jokes written 150 years ago.
94. Crushing helplessly on characters you do realize are clinically insane.
95. The stress of hating an ink-and-paper person more than you’ve ever hated anything in your life.
96. So you’ve got one coffee table made entirely of books, and people think you’re weird?
97. The unreasonable disappointment of discovering that your secret quirky character crush is everyone’s secret quirky character crush.
98. Predicting a twist way too early.
99. Nobody ever wants to help you move.
Quand j’ai pris cet album cartonné, j’étais certaine que c’était une réédition tellement il me fait penser à un album que je lisais quand j’étais petite. Mais non, publication originale 2008. Si ce n’est pas une réelle histoire, j’ai quand même été charmée par le côté « illustrations et thème à l’ancienne » qui m’a rappelé ma jeunesse. 
Quand je lis un roman de Foenkinos, je sais généralement à quoi m’attendre : un divertissement, des sourires et, souvent, un personnage masculin banal avec un événement déclencheur banal qui va changer sa vie. Pas de surprise ici, c’est ce que j’y ai trouvé. Foenkinos qui fait du Foenkinos. Agréable à lire, pas transcendant… mais surtout copié-collé sur sa propre recette. 
J’aime beaucoup ce que fait Fabrice Colin. Ce n’est plus un secret. J’aime ses mondes fantastiques, sa plume évocatrice ainsi que les questionnements qu’il sait insérer dans ses histoires. J’apprécie aussi son côté « pour tous » et le fait qu’il ose sortir des « must » habituels des romans jeunesse fantastiques. C’est encore le cas ici. 
Pour Pia Petersen, Dieu est une création littéraire. Du moins, c’est ce que je l’ai entendu dire en entrevue. Du coup, pourquoi pas en faire un réel personnage de roman actuel. C’est le défi que l’auteur a choisi de relever et pour ma part, je le considère comme relevé car j’ai passé un très bon moment avec cet hurluberlu bougon, qui – il n’en démord pas – est Dieu. 
Ce roman est arrivé la semaine dernière dans ma boîte. J’étais ravie, d’ailleurs, vu que j’avais lu beaucoup de bien de son premier roman (que je n’ai pas lu, sinon ce ne serait pas drôle). Et comme des fois, je me surprends moi-même, je l’ai attrapé à la dernière seconde avant de partir – en bus – pour le salon du livre de Québec. Donc, roman lu immédiatement (c’est quand même rare), billet écrit immédiatement (ça c’est normal) et publié immédiatement (ça, c’est complètement inhabituel). Mais vu qu’il sort aujourd’hui, pourquoi pas!
Mario Vivier est un auteur avec qui j’aurais aimé discuter lors du salon du livre de l’Outaouais. Bon, il était trop occupé, ce n’est pas grave, mais après avoir terminé la lecture de ce roman, je réalise que j’aurais VRAIMENT aimé discuter avec lui. Car j’ai l’impression la difficulté ne vient pas du roman, mais de la lectrice, qui en a vraisemblablement manqué un bout. 
Avouons-le d’emblée, je ne suis pas super fan au départ des séries d’albums qui démarrent à partir du succès d’un film ou d’un roman. Ici, il s’agit de Marley, le chien de « Marley et moi », film qui m’a fait pleurer toutes les larmes de mon corps dans un avion alors que je ne suis même pas très « animaux » au départ. J’étais donc un peu dubitative avant de l’ouvrir, encore plus quand j’ai vu les illustrations du roman, très réalistes et bien peu originales selon moi. 
