In the last few days of 2010, I read more books than I had in the prior month, and thereby managed to complete a few more challenges just before time ran out.

First off, I didn’t know Roger Ebert had a blog, nor was I aware of his apparent devotion to the wondrous appliance that is the rice cooker.  The Pot and How to Use It is culled from blog entries on his love for the common kitchen appliance. It wasn’t long ago that I was among the poor souls that were ignorant of the rice cooker; I lived for 35+ years by simply boiling by rice in in a pot on the stove, and living with the alternately mushy, dry, burnt-on or soggy results. Then one day I decided to buy a cheap $10 Black and Decker rice cooker and my life was changed forever. It cooks rice perfectly! And it KNOWS the difference between white and brown rice, between long-grain and basmati. I just flip the button to on, and the pot does the rest of the work. I heart it.

So of course, when I saw that Ebert had written a pot testimonial, I read it. I didn’t read it as a cookbook, since it’s not really – and I probably would have been disappointed if I had. It’s not often you come across a witty and endearing love letter to a kitchen appliance, but this is such a case. Still, it’s lightweight and from what I understand, most of the writing can be found on his blog, so do that or follow my example and borrow a copy from the library.

I fell in love with Gabaldon’s characters with Outlander back in 2009, but when I started the second installment, Dragonfly in Amber, just days later, the beginning was so jarring, I put it aside and notwithstanding a couple halfhearted attempts, never returned. Well, once I determined to read it again, it still took me over a month to do so, but I did it. And while I’m not in love, I’m still very much in like. And willing to read the third book in the series (waiting for a library copy to come in).

If I’m being truly honest, I have to say that there wasn’t enough sex for me. In the first book, we got some really hot and heavy scenes – yet nothing too explicit – in which the sexual chemistry between Jamie and Claire was palpable. And while they still get it on like rabbits whenever they’re together for more than five minutes (and sometimes not even that much time), it didn’t have that same raw, sexy vibe that similar scenes in the first book had in spades. In Dragonfly, there’s a lot more political intrigue, battle scenes, etc. and while that all makes for good plot advancement, sometimes I just wanted her to get on with it and get to the good stuff, if you know what I mean. Yeah, I know – I should just go read some Kathleen Woodiwiss if that’s all I’m after.

I actually read David Almond’s book, Skellig, at the suggestion of Nick Hornby (see below), as up to that point I’d never heard of the author nor this particular title, but lo and behold, the library had a copy of it, so I snatched it up and took it home with me. Hornby had stated that Skellig was chosen by the judges of the Carnegie Medal as the third-best children’s book of the last 70 years (Philip Pullman’s Northern Lights/The Golden Compass – which I’ve already read – and Tom’s Midnight Garden by Philippa Pearce – which I’ve got on order – being the other two). Having read it, I can see why it’s received all of the awards and accolades. The story of a young boy with a critically ill baby sister, who discovers a strange creature in his garage, one who will come to show him a world beyond anything he’d imagined, will touch your heart and rekindle your own sense of wonder.

I put off reading Nick Hornby’s Shakespeare Wrote for Money, his third collection of articles written for Believer magazine, as long as I could. I did so because it is the last such collection, as he no longer writes the column, I greatly enjoyed the prior two installments (see here and there), and it makes me a little sad to think that I now have now read them all.

In this final book, I noticed a definite shift to nonfiction reading, and in subjects I am not particularly interested in, so I came away with fewer titles added to my wishlist, which I suppose is not necessarily a bad thing. There were a few of course, the aforementioned Skellig (already read and taken off the TBR list!); a young adult book entitled Weetzie Bat (a library copy is sitting on my coffee table as I type); Stasiland, a nonfiction account of life in East Germany; Everything That Rises, a book of essays about art; and even a biopic about Bob Dylan, I’m Not There.

More enjoyable that the book suggestions though, is Hornby’s observations about life and literature, delivered with his characteristic wit. I marked at least a dozen passages and laughed at even more. Whether it’s commenting on American views of football/soccer (and the infamous “flop and bawl”), the inconsistency of rereading old favorites, discovering the literary treasure trove to be found in YA literature, or the pallid uniformity of ‘misery memoirs’, Hornby makes me laugh while also making me lament the loss of further dispatches of what he’s been reading lately. Oh, the humanity!

Last, but certainly not least, my final book of 2010 was Mister Pip by Lloyd Jones, a book I’d put off reading hoping to first read the book that it features, which is of course, Great Expectations. Sadly, that was not to be, since I could not bring myself to finish it. Finally, since I really wanted to read Mister Pip, I went online and read a detailed plot synopsis of the Dickens classic, filling in the bits I didn’t know from where I’d given up about halfway through.

Mister Pip takes place on a South Pacific island, one village in particular, that is reeling from the effects of an ongoing civil war. What I did not know until I did some research online after reading it, is that the setting and conflict is based on the island of Bougainville. Mister Pip is an unflinching book, told from the point of view of one of the island girls, Matilda. Little by little, she shares her story, with all its heart and brutality, and it is one that will linger with you.