Karen Sandler

Tag: liar

  • Fave Books–A Progress Report

    It’s really too early to list my favorite books for the year. But I have realized there’s one cool aspect to owning a Kindle. It keeps track of all the books in my library. And since I’ve only read a few non-e-books since I bought my Kindle, I can refer back to that list to review nearly every book I’ve read this year.

    Ranking these books in any particular way, i.e., trying to figure out which was the best book I read, then the next best, etc., is an exercise in futility. I read eclectically and there’s no way to compare a 700-page autobiography to a fun, fast-paced YA. So I decided to come up with my own “award” categories for the books I’ve read in the last ten months. Here goes:

    Most haunting book–Unwind by Neal Shusterman, both because of its thought-provoking story and the creepiest scene I’ve ever read in a book.

    Book that really lived up to its hype–The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, because this book (in fact the series) did not disappoint.

    Most moving, heartfelt book–A tie between Rules by Cynthia Lord and Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine, because I felt a personal connection to the main characters.

    Longest book that I just couldn’t put down–Autobiography of Mark Twain: The Complete and Authoritative Edition, Volume 1 which was fantastic, although I have to confess, I didn’t read all the footnotes (which comprise 40% of the book).

    The hands-down most compelling first-person narrative–Room: A Novel by Emma Donoghue, which was another haunting book, but for an entirely different reason.

    The most laugh-out-loud, yet still heart-warming, book–Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan because God-I-loved-this-book.

    The book I probably recommended to more people than any other–The Help by Kathryn Stockett which made me see my own book, Tankborn, through new eyes.

    The book I was most annoyed that I couldn’t read the sequel to right away—Matched by Ally Condie because, harrumph, I want to read Crossed now!

    The funnest, coolest science fiction future–the Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld, because who wouldn’t want a hoverboard?

    The funnest, most romantic books set in Europe–a tie between Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins, and by Maureen Johnson, 13 Little Blue Envelopes and The Last Little Blue Envelope, because I wasn’t sure I’d like them, but they completely won me over.

    The most mind-twisting book–Liar by Justine Larbalestier, because I never was quite sure what to believe, right up to the end.

    There are more that I’ve read, but I’m going to leave it at this. How many of these have you read? Do you agree or disagree with my “awards?” Let me know.

  • Can You Be TOO Honest?

    To say I am a lousy liar is an understatement. I find it nearly impossible to even fudge the truth. In fact, sometimes I bore people to tears (or thoroughly confuse them) with my compulsion to include every detail when I’m telling a story. I’ve had to work hard to “edit” myself in conversations so that I cut to the chase, particularly when I’m chatting up complete strangers at a party or while on line at the store.

    I used to be alarmingly frank as a youngster. I’d open a birthday or Christmas present and if it was something I truly didn’t like, my face would tell all. I’d try to smile and say thank you, but my expression would have already spilled the beans with the gift giver. I’m more tactful now (thank God) and can screen my gut reaction. In fact, many times the gift that didn’t appeal when I first opened it becomes a favorite, so it’s just as well I hide my disappointment.

    I can also be rather annoying if I realize I haven’t paid for an item properly at the store. I’ve brought cashiers to towering rages because they gave me a penny too much in change and I insisted on giving it back. Sorry, ma’am, just trying to be honest.

    I didn’t make anybody mad, but I did complicate things today at WalMart. I had loaded my cart with cat food for my ravenous feline horde. You know how fussy cats are. I had to carefully hand-select the 24 individual cans of Fancy Feast to make sure they were all varieties Casper and Zak would eat. (Go ahead, dog lovers, laugh. The cat lovers understand.) When I got to the register, the clerk didn’t want to ring up the 54 cents times 24. He had to account for each of the 6 varieties I’d chosen.

    He finished ringing everything up and I paid, but the total didn’t seem like quite enough. I stepped just outside and counted the cans of Fancy Feast on the receipt. I re-counted a couple times. Sigh. I’d only paid for 21 cans.

    A lot of people (maybe most) would have just walked on, headed to their cars and forgotten about it. Actually, it’s likely none of those people would have bothered to count how many cans they’d paid for in the first place. But I did count and once I knew I’d underpaid, I had to go back and tell someone.

    First the clerk said, “Boy, you must really want to go to heaven,” then she suggested they just give me the cans. I would have been okay with that, but I was also perfectly fine with paying for them. In the end, someone rang up the three cans and I forked over the additional money.

    So, am I too honest? Is this more a compulsion to get everything to total up correctly or is it that I don’t want to cheat someone out of what’s their due (yes, even WalMart)? I doubt that I’m going to change anytime soon. It’s just something I’ve accepted about myself. But I do wonder sometimes if there’s something a little hinky about my impulse for extreme honesty.

    So, what do you think? Is it time I learned the art of the little white lie?