And Then I Got Hit By A Bus And Became A Leper!

The following is a list of reasons I haven't been online for a week - not even to answer E-Mails:

* The heat went away in my house. I live in New Jersey. It has been cold as shit. It has been SNOWING outside, and I have been able to see my breath INSIDE and the WATER was even cold and at one point I had on five sweatshirts and six pairs of sweatpants, and basically moved about by rolling down hallways.

* The internet has been blinking on and off. My mother claims the internet has been fine, even though it has been spotty for me and my father, the other two internet users. But my mother lives on a different technological plane of existence than the rest of us, and would most likely insist the internet was working fine even if there had never even BEEN an internet. Either that, or she has secret Ninja Mommy Wireless, and won't share.

* My grandparents were here for the weekend, and taught me to make homemade pasta AND pot roast, so I was busy eating and being lectured on the evils of the new administration, but luckily my mouth was full so I couldn't fight back.

* I seriously sprained my ankle fighting off a dalek who had cornered the Doctor, and in my eagerness to save the sexy Time Lord, I fell down hard and popped something in my ankle, making me hobble around like a much shorter female House, only not as smart or cranky, and without a cane and a secret British accent. Or I fell down in my garage for no good reason, and would much rather live in a fantasy world where I fell down for a GOOD REASON.

* I've been substituting constantly, and that includes making a kindergartner cry, arguing that Obama is NOT going to kill all the penguins in the world, and trying desperately to remember geometry.

I'll update later. And catch up on all the E-Mails and such. Right now I have to limp off to work.

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MY WORK HERE IS FINISHED!

Finally, the Grand Unveiling Of My Master Plan To Make Money!

Go to my store and BUY STUFF. Or PROMOTE IT.

Please? I need money. And I spend a lot of time knitting that I COULD use for reading and writing. So, you know, reward me as such.

OK, back to blogging regularly tomorrow. I'm going to celebrate my new business venture by watching more Doctor Who. I'm sure that's how all corporate giants start out.
- LV

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The Best Excuse Ever.

Please excuse ElleVee from Blogging for the next day or two.

Her Doctor Who DVDs came in. She and David Tennant need to be alone. YOU CAN'T STOP THEIR LOVE! (Well.... OK, Russell Brand could, if he wanted to. And James Franco. And Hugh Laurie, of course. And Hunter S. Thompson if he wasn't, you know, all dead. BUT OTHERWISE.)

Actually, life is busy, and the heater is still screwy in my house, and I will most likely blog tomorrow (and answer some E-Mails I've been avoiding), but I just watched Day of The Dead again and was made happy by the zombie apocalypse (which, seriously, I am totally prepared for. I have got my shit in ORDER), and am now going to be made nigh on ecstatic by the cavorting genius of David Tennant.

If Russell Brand guest-starred on an episode of Doctor Who, I would combust as a small ball of joy. Further thoughts in that direction lead my mind to dangerous places.

And yes, I'm very excited about the inauguration tomorrow, but to be honest right at this moment I'm more pumped about the TARDIS. What that says about me, I do not need to know.

My stomach hurts, too. Plus cold house. Enough whining, TIME FOR THE DOCTOR.
- LV

PS Let's look at the disparity between the things that make me happy, because I'm waiting for the disc to load:

Zombies:

David Tennant:

This Picture (Mainly because of Wee Baby Rorschach surfing):

The Actual Watchmen Movie (And lo, LV's spine shall explode with joy, and everyone will be too busy watching the movie to notice:

Russell Brand, & His Wacky Hair Of Sex:

Shoes:

There's more, but the DVD is working. See, I promised more images in the New Year. You're welcome.

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I Can See My Breath Indoors!

The heat is out in my house, and it's zero degrees out.

If this was happening to someone else, I'd be laughing. Which is why it's happening to me.

I'll post something more substantial later, if my fingers haven't frozen.
- LV

PS The Great Unveiling of my Master Plan has been postponed, due to family drama and non-specific douchery. It may happen later, or not at all. I am a creature of mystery!

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It's Not A Hiatus, I'm Just Freaking Lazy

Reports of my death have been greatly... well, there haven't been any reports of my death, but if there HAD been, they would have been exaggerated. I've just been super busy. Behold, the list below will explain my mysterious absence from the interweb.

* I spent the weekend in New York with friends, which was great until we ran into the only two guys in the CITY who were also from my freakishly small town. Which was awkward, and pretty funny to everyone but me.

* I had to watch the Golden Globes, and sulk, because there was almost nothing for me to be shouty about (and Mickey Rourke's acceptance speech had me in stitches, in part because anyone who uses the word 'balls' not once but TWICE in front of the Hollywood Foreign Press is kind of like Jesus, and also because it seems that he and Bruce Springsteen are in the thrall of a deep and powerful Bromance that us mere mortals cannot comprehend) except that Hugh Laurie didn't win anything, but that always makes me shouty because he should win everything. And James Franco wasn't there, which was sad for me. And Tom "I'm Not Gay And I Love My Wife And Daughter And Those Other Two Kids And Hail Xenu But Take Your Medicine Unless It Involves Your Brain And Perchance Do You Have A Couch That Needs Tenderizing?" Cruise didn't even get a chance to be fabulously douchey. What a waste.

* I've been working on the Great Secret Project That Will Hopefully Give Me Money So I Can Move Out And Live My Life And Be Free Of The Shame And Stigma Of My Parent's Basement. It's almost ready to be unveiled, and I will tell you all about it the moment it has been completed.

* I've apparently become a great fan of capitalization.

* I've been trying to write a review of the ARC I was given that isn't me essentially going, "HOW DID THIS BOOK GET PUBLISHED?!" punctuated by lots of crying and drinking.

* There was a brief period where I had to be restrained, because I got my paycheck and was hellbent on finding the magical Emporium Of Clothes And Books And Makeup And Comics And Puppies And Shoes And David Tennants, which does exist. Don't listen to the naysayers.

* I've been reading the greatest webcomic ever (actually, my Aunt and Uncle sent me the two collections for my birthday, so I read those, then stalked the internet until I found more, which I have been rereading with an intensity I should probably devote to more rational pursuits). I love Nemi. I want to be her (except for the pescetarian thing, which is so bullshit - what, fish don't have feelings too? Speciesist.) or be her witty and amusing sidekick. Which is bad, because I start plotting running away to England and dyeing my hair fantastic colors, and I may have been making a wishlist on Hot Topic, mecca of my angsty youth days, and on one hand I know I'm too old for this shit, but on the other hand I'm only twenty-three and this stuff is AWESOME and I didn't get to enjoy any of it when I was a kid, and if I want to wear all black and have red hair and get more tattoos and start going to punk shows again and drinking too much, WHAT OF IT?! YOU CAN'T STOP THE REVOLUTION, MAN!

* I think the single funniest thing on the internet right now is Bono's op-ed piece for the New York Times. It's sort of like peeking into his soul, which is apparently inhabited by alcohol, Frank Sinatra, and a pretentious little gnome who paints landscapes.

* I think Ron Blagojevich really believes that this pesky impeachment thing is keeping him from healing the sick WITH HIS BARE HANDS.

* I've been studying for the LSATS. They are scary as SHIT.

* I'm FINALLY getting season four of Doctor Who today, after MONTHS of battling with Netflix. They've been forgiven, but they are still on my watch list. Don't fuck up again.

* I've been reading more review books, which are starting to slowly pile up and may one day crush me, thus shuffling me off this mortal coil in a dramatic but ultimately pathetic manner.

* I've been extremely shouty over the fact that Frost/Nixon is not playing ANYWHERE near me, and I want to see this movie. Badly.

* I'm sad that Monk will be ending after one more season. Tony Shalhoub, WHY?!

* I've been scouring the web, trying to find a site that will sell me English snacks like Jelly Babies. So far, NO LUCK.

* I've been looking at law schools. Also trying to figure out if I can be the Official White House Dogwalker, for which you probably need a law degree and a few letters of recommendation.

Life is BUSY. But I will be posting a lot now, because I've remembered how wonderful it is, and also I want to get my numbers back up. So tell your friends, your enemies, and anyone else with internet access. The world will be a better place.
- LV

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Hero Worship

Oh Sarah Palin, I worship thee. And I mean that without irony or snark. Every time I see you on the TV, my heart sings. Your voice brings sunshine and gumdrops.

I have to admit, after the election I was worried. My joy over Obama's win was tempered by a very real fear that you would fade away into obscurity. Clearly, I underestimated you.

The world needs you, Sarah Palin. I need you. In these stressful times of economic recession, fighting in the Middle East, and the possible delay of the Watchmen movie, we need you more than ever. Who else - who else, I ask - can deliver, with such regularity, such a high level of demented hilarity? Who can be so consistently mental and borderline incoherent? Who else can leave 95% of Americans secure in the knowledge of their own intellectual superiority? No one, and that is why you are my hero. You are insane and not very bright, and determined to push yourself down America's throat until we all choke on your sassy homegrown attitude.

Why do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
* Your war with Katie Couric and Tina Fey, made infinitely funnier because they seem to have no idea that they're fighting in it. And they're still winning.

* The fact that you still haven't named one newspaper you read.

* Your habit of shooting wild animals like moose and wolves from your deck, then feasting on their flesh.

* The famous Turkey Press Conference Massacre.

* You believe that you can walk from Alaska to Russia, or at least wave at them from across the border.

* There is a porno movie out there called Nailin' Paylin.

* You don't seem to really know what the job you were applying for included.

* You believe in creationism. Which means that you might believe that dinosaurs and humans lived together. At the same time. And that you kind of have a problem with the concept of 'metaphors.'

* You think the media is against you and out to ruin your life, yet you keep going on TV to complain about how the TV is misrepresenting you.

* The prank phone call. You actually believed that Nicolas Sarkozy called you up to discuss the aforementioned porno movie.

* Your husband wanted to be First Dude.

* Your daughter's babydaddy's mom got arrested for drugs. And your grandkid's name is an inexplicable as your sons' names, and it sounds like their names as well. Which bothers me.

For these and countless other reasons, you need to stay in the public eye for as long as possible. I would be so sad if you went away, and I had to start worrying about serious issues that actually matter. Please don't put me through that.

So, in order to keep you around and making me laugh for as long as possible, I have two ideas for your future career plans. if you're still into the whole politics gig, I think you should run for President in 2012. And I've got your perfect running mate: Ron Blagojevich. It will be brilliant: you'll scream about pro-life madness, and vow to kick Tina Fey and Katie Couric out of the country, and hold National Moose-Shooting events, and Blagojevich will smirk and insist that he's done nothing wrong, that listing pieces of White House furniture on eBay is totally legal, and WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING?

Or, if you're over the cutthroat world of politics, might I suggest a cooking show? I'm a big fan of the Food Network, and I think they could have a slot for you. You'd be like a Northern Paula Deen. We could call the show Preparin' Palin, or Serving Sarah. You could cook moose nuggets, or wolf pot-pies, or sea-bass slushies. You could even teach people how to hunt and kill their own food. Imagine how much everyone will appreciate those tips when the economy collapses, and we're all living in a post-Fight Club world with no technology and no money.

Think about it, Mrs. Palin. America needs you. The world needs you. And if Joe the Plumber really does go to Gaza (which I suspect is secretly an elaborate and badly-thought-out plan to get him out of the country, but that's another blog entry entirely), who will we turn to in these turbulent times?

Or, if all else fails, you can pull a Michael Lohan, and challenge Fey/Couric to boxing match. Imagine the numbers that little shindig would draw. I'm sure FOX would sponsor you. The possibilities are endless.
- LV

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So I Didn't Blog Yesterday. Sue Me

I've been BUSY. Like, really busy. Even if I haven't worked at all this week, which is frustrating, and I also have yet to get a paycheck which makes me annoyed as hell because I am BROKE and just spent a ridiculous amount of money on YARN (which I keep calling string, for mysterious and complicated reasons) because I want to earn some extra money by knitting stuff (and when I set up the account I'll link to it, so you can all laugh at my pathetic attempts to be artistic) AND I'm studying for the LSATs because I'm taking the test in June, WHICH IS SOONER THAN IT SEEMS, and I'm writing an article about eco-garbage dumps on Jersey, which seems like the beginning of a bad joke, and I just ate a vegan cupcake and some jalapeno munchees because I was hungry.

Deep breath.


Oh, and whenever I watch CNN all I can think is that governor Blagojevich looks freakishly like Josh Brolin in Milk.

I mean, look:





Which is which?! Nothing makes sense anymore!

AND as if that's not enough, one of the guys reporting from Gaza sounds exactly like Ralph Fiennes, while looking nothing at all like him. It's confusing. Hard times, hard times.

OK, I have more stuff to do. Knitting is HARD. LSATS are HARD. Writing is HARD. I am a tough chick. Now someone come make me a key lime pie.
- LV

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Twenty-Three

* Dizzy Gillespie died.

* John Singleton was born.

* Joan Of Arc was born.

* Thomas Edison submitted his last patent application.

* New Mexico was admitted as the 47th U.S. state.

* King Henry VIII of England married Anne of Cleves.

* EMI fired the Sex Pistols.

* Theodore Roosevelt, died in Oyster Bay, N.Y., at age 60.

* US halted breast implants (in 1992).

* George Washington and Martha Dandridge Custis were married.

* Samuel Morse first publicly demonstrated his telegraph, in Morristown, N.J.

* George H.W. Bush married Barbara Pierce in Rye, N.Y.

* E.L. Doctorow was born.

* Rowan Atkinson was born.

* Epiphany (Greek for "to manifest" or "to show"), is a Christian feast day which celebrates the revelation of God in human form in the person of Jesus Christ, is celebrated.

* Little Christmas is celebrated in Ireland.

* Celebration of the ceremonial birthday of Haile Selassie.

* Armenian Christmas.

* In popular folklore Befana visits all the children of Italy on the eve of the 6th of January to fill their socks with candy and presents if they are good or a lump of coal or dark candy if they are bad. Being a good housekeeper, many say she will sweep the floor before she leaves. The child's family typically leaves a small glass of wine and a plate with a few morsels of food, often regional or local, for the Befana.

And I was born. That sums it up, don't you think?
- LV (at 23)

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My Last Day At Twenty-Two

I didn't get called in to substitute today, which is good because I have a LOT on my mind right now:
* The naming of the new Doctor in Doctor Who, who is very attractive and a good (if relatively unknown) actor, but whose arrival means the inevitable departure of David Tennant, who it took me AGES to accept in the wake of Christopher Eccleston's leaving the role, and how long it will take me to warm up to this one.

* Netflix, which insists on sending me the WRONG DVDs, thus trapping me a whole season behind on Doctor Who, which is really very cruel considering my temperament.

* The word "temperament," which really should be spelled "temperment." Right?

* The LSAT, and which books would be best to help me pass it.

* Which grad school I should go to, and whether I should go full time (to get through it quickly) or part time (so I can continue working and not be horribly broke).

* My lovely friend Emme, who is usually wonderful, but for mysterious and possibly sinister reasons has switched the Journalism Reunion Party from this Friday to this Thursday, which means I CAN'T GO because if I have to work on Friday I cannot be hungover, and getting back from New York at 3 A.M. is not wise when you have to deal with children.

* Work, because with my luck I won't have it on Friday, meaning I could have gone to the aforementioned party, and will leave me bitter and sad.

* My little brother, and why he finds it endlessly entertaining to unravel my knitting, especially since he knows I'm doing it to make money.

* Typewriters. I want a red Selectric typewriter (like the dear departed Hunter S. Thompson wrote on) or a beautiful old Underwood model, but they are all over $500, and I don't have that sort of money (or any, really), so I can only stare longingly at the pictures and DREAM.

* My birthday, which is tomorrow. I don't like birthdays. Well, I like other peoples' birthdays, but not my own. I never have a party, because most of my friends hate each other for fairly complicated reasons, and anyway they all live so damn far away that the idea itself would be ridiculous. Anyway, getting older sucks. Even when you're not that old.

* The death of Jett Travolta, John Travolta's son, which is really sad and awful, but probably doesn't warrant the attention it's getting.

* Dinner. One of my Resolutions for the New Year is to cook dinner a few nights a week, since I am famously bad in the kitchen (ask me about the time I exploded five potatoes in the microwave before someone informed me I needed to put holes in them, or the Exploding Sausage Incident, or the Stinky Salmon Episode) but since my parents are vegan I have to cook food that they'll actually eat. So I'm puzzling over meal choices for the evening.

* Knitting, which I'm actually not very good at, or at least not as good as I previously imagined.

* How exactly I can manage to buy this really gorgeous Prada dress I saw online, which is $3,000 but I NEED. Hell, I'll wear the thing to the damn grocery store. I'll SLEEP in it.

* How I can arrange running into James Franco in said Prada dress, possibly while carrying a beautiful typewriter, and so charm him with my wit and typing skills that he marries me, so I can afford all the shit I want to buy and be able to go to law school without a damn loan.

* My book, which is very easy to write in my head while I'm falling asleep, but impossible to type up when I actually sit down to work.

* My notebooks, which I've just realized are not where I put them.

* The Hunter S. Thompson audio discs, and how I can obtain them and listen to them and become even creepier in my love for him.

Deep Thoughts on this Monday in January. And while there are Serious Political Issues that no doubt warrant more attention than the things I'm focusing on (like Obama being back in Washington, or the nightmare going on in Gaza), I prefer to devote my brain energy to the above topics, because A) they are easier to deal with, and B) there are much smarter people dealing with Serious Issues.

It's really effing cold in my house.
- LV

PS Behold the New Doctor:

Oh, David Tennant, why must you leave us?! I am bereft.

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Three Minutes On Love by Roccie Hill

The title is terrible. Let me make that clear from the start. The title is bad enough to make people hesitate when selecting this book. It speaks of terrible pop songs by Photoshopped young singers, or perhaps a new reality show on MTV. The title does not inspire an awful lot of confidence.

Which is really a pity, because the book itself is quite good. The story of a young rock photographer and her tumultuous love affair with a talented guitarist is not, on the surface, especially original. And indeed, the basic plot lends itself to dozens of movies and books and TV shows. But author Roccie Hill has taken a cliche and added subtle layers, unexpected characters, and plot twists both surprising and authentic.

The real marvel here is the main character, Rosie. Carefully sidestepping all the traits that make first person narrative infuriating, Rosie is an intriguing, quietly intense young woman. Her ability to relate everything to her photography, to the art that makes her feel alive, results in some of the best passages in the book. The visuals are remarkable, making even an outsider feel intimately connected to the landscape and environment of California.

The supporting cast is equally well-drawn, particularly Rosie's friend Peter, an illegal immigrant, filmmaker, and the voice of reason throughout most of the events. Another favorite character is Alex, the lawyer with the surfer-style hair whose predictions would, in a lesser novel, come true.

The only character that failed, on a small level, is David, Rosie's lover, the talented Jimmy Page-like guitarist who indulges in all the vices of his profession. David is decently written, and to Hill's credit she never tries to analyze the love between her two main characters. But David's fall from grace is somewhat less compelling than it should be. And music - which, for him, should be like photography for Rosie - never comes into play on a major level. He could be a painter or an actor. As a fan of music from that time, I would have appreciated a musician truly in love with his work, rather than just a talented guitarist wrestling between fame and art.

Still, this is a minor complaint in a beautiful, fascinating story of love and photography, and the ties that bind us through tragedy and deceit. Hill has crafted a lovely first novel that bodes well for her future career. With authentic characters, a wonderful sense of place, a plot that keeps you guessing, and a narrator with an eye for color and a weakness for musicians, Three Minutes On Love is a surprisingly engaging read. An excellent start to what will hopefully be an impressive career. I will look forward to Hill's next offering.

But the title is awful. It makes me sad. The book deserves a lot better.

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Over 5,000 People Have Graced This Website With Their Presence

Happy New Year to me.

With the New Year, people make lists of resolutions. Now, I like lists. A lot. If there was a way I could get paid to just make random lists all day, I would be the happiest girl this side of the equator. Unfortunately, such a career fails to exist (but if you KNOW about a job like that, LET ME KNOW. Seriously, I have a resume ready and everything. And examples of my list-making genius. I rule lists.) so my list-making gifts go unappreciated.

But the New Year is a good excuse to make lists. And excuses are one of my favorite things, after lists and sushi and Hugh Jackman's arms. So while I will not be posting my personal list of resolutions (because it's personal, and probably boring to anyone but me), but I WILL be making a list of resolutions for this lovely little blog. And posting it for your edification.

1. Posting every day.
2. Posting more pictures.
3. Posting more reviews.
4. Raising my hits to at least 100 a day (although I have no idea how)
5. Creating a cooler layout with prettyful pictures and such.

Anyone have any other ideas on how I could improve this place? Anything you want to see? Or not see?

I know knitting is supposed to be a calming activity (and make me some cash, but that is my sneaky plan which I will not yet divulge) but seriously, I am an inch away from jamming my knitting needles through someone's HEAD. STUPID YARN. OBEY MY WHIMS, YOU BASTARD.

It's a slow, lazy Saturday. I have nothing else to add.
- LV

PS Yes, I know about the issues surrounding the Watchmen movie release, and no I cannot talk about it because my head explodes and VIOLENCE and PAIN pours out from the wounds.

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2009 Doesn't Start Until The Hangover Ends

Happy 2009. Let's hope this year is better than last year, with fewer violent deaths, horrific tragedies, bad hair, and depressing movies.

To celebrate the New Year, I humbly present to my loyal readers the First Annual Fear And Loathing Awards, a look back at the books I read in 2008. Here we'll see the best, worst, and weirdest shit I read in 2008. Enjoy!

Books That Make Me Want To Grab A Sword And Kick Ass
Gentlemen Of The Road - Michael Chabon
The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

Shortest Profound Book Ever
The Marriage Of Heaven & Hell - William Blake

Best Play
Waiting For Godot - Samuel Beckett

Book That I Was Uncomfortable To Read In Public Because Damn Was It Creepy
Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

Book That Made Me Weep Like A Prison Bitch
The Road - Cormac McCarthy
The Schwa Was Here - Neal Shusterman
Flowers For Algernon - Daniel Keyes

Overrated Books That I Still Liked
Fragile Things: Short Fictions And Wonders - Neil Gaiman
Stardust - Neil Gaiman
On Chesil Beach - Ian McEwan

Scariest Goddamn Books
Heart-Shaped Box - Joe Hill
Coraline - Neil Gaiman
Arkham Asylum: A Serious House On Serious Earth - Grant Morrison
59. 20th Century Ghosts - Joe Hill
The Stand - Stephen King (Reread)

Best Discworld Novels (Or, Best Novels Ever)
Night Watch - Terry Pratchett
Reaper Man - Terry Pratchett
Mort - Terry Pratchett
Interesting Times - Terry Pratchett

Soul Music - Terry Pratchett
Men At Arms - Terry Pratchett
Lords & Ladies - Terry Pratchett
Small Gods - Terry Pratchett
Witches Abroad - Terry Pratchett
Guards! Guards! - Terry Pratchett
Moving Pictures - Terry Pratchett

Worst Discworld Novels (That Still Manage To Be Pretty Damn Great)
The Light Fantastic - Terry Pratchett
Equal Rites - Terry Pratchett
Sourcery - Terry Pratchett
Pyramids - Terry Pratchett
Wyrd Sisters - Terry Pratchett

Books I Wish I'd Written
Jonathan Strange And Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Collected Fictions - Jorge Luis Borges
The Crimson Petal And The White - Michael Faber

Most Sanctimonious Cookbooks
Vegan Express - Nava Atlas
Peace In Every Bite: A Vegan Cookbook - Two Moons

Best Comic Series To Be Ruined By The Hot Topic Crowd
The Sandman, Volume 2: The Doll's House - Neil Gaiman

The Sandman, Volume 3: Dream Country - Neil Gaiman
The Sandman, Volume 4: Season Of Mists - Neil Gaiman
The Sandman, Volume 5: A Game Of You - Neil Gaiman

Best-Named Comic
Hellblazer: Fear & Loathing - Garth Ennis

Overrated Books I 'Got', But Didn't Enjoy
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman

Books I Didn't Realize I Liked Until The Very Last Page
The Yiddish Policeman's Union - Michael Chabon
Neuromancer - William Gibson
Disgrace - J.M. Coetzee

Worst/Most Disappointing Books Of The Year
An Arsonist's Guide To Writer's Homes In New England - Brock Clarke
Needful Things - Stephen King
Snuff - Chuck Palahniuk
Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency - Douglas Adams
The Knife Thrower And Other Stories - Steven Millhauser
60. Viriconium - M. John Harrison
A Dirty Job - Christopher Moore

Best Addiction-Suffering Superhero EVER
Iron Man: Demon In A Bottle - David Michelinie
Invincible Iron Man #1 - Matt Fraction
Iron Man Volume 1: Extremis - Warren Ellis
Invincible Iron Man #2 - Matt Fraction

Best Nonfiction
Sweet And Low - Rich Cohen
A Short History Of Nearly Everything - Bill Bryson
When You Are Engulfed In Flames - David Sedaris
The Year Of Magical Thinking - Joan Didion
Dreams From My Father - Barack Obama
An Anthropologist On Mars - Oliver Sacks
Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany - Bill Buford

Best Beach-Reads
Four Past Midnight - Stephen King

Best Comic Ever In The History Of Ever
Watchmen - Alan Moore (Reread)

Best Books To Be Made Into Ass-Kicking Movies
No Country For Old Men - Cormac McCarthy
American Splendor: Our Movie Year - Harvey Pekar
Hellboy, Volume 1: Seed Of Destruction - Mike Mignola

The Prestige - Christopher Priest

Best Mix Of Great & Terrible Comic Artists
SPX 2003 Anthology - Comic Book Legal Defense Fund

Best Book On How Totally Fucked Up Polygamy Is
The 19th Wife - David Ebershoff

Most Hated Book Series That I Didn't Hate Until Everyone Started Gushing About How It Was The BEST SERIES EVER OMGWTFBBQ
New Moon - Stephenie Meyer

Twilight - Stephenie Meyer

Books That Were Surprisingly Good
Three Minutes On Love - Roccie Hill
Girl With A Pearl Earring - Tracy Chevalier

Best Kids' Books That Really Aren't
The Tales Of Beedle The Bard - J.K. Rowling
The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman
Harry Potter & The Sorcerer's Stone - J.K. Rowling (Reread)

Best Books About Books.... And Incest
The Thirteenth Tale- Diane Setterfield
The Shadow Of The Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Books That I Know Are Great, But That I Didn't Really Like
American Pastoral - Philip Roth

Shit-Your-Pants-Funny Books Everyone Should Worship
A Confederacy Of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole (Reread)

Best Use Of Extreme Violence And Sexual Abuse Involving Hamsters In A Comic Series
The Boys #9 - Garth Ennis
50. The Boys #8 - Garth Ennis

Best Book That Reminded Me Of Pan's Labyrinth, But In A Good Way
The Book Of Lost Things - John Connolly

Best Short Comic
The Cat With The Really Big Head & One Other Story That Isn't As Good - Roman Dirge

Book That Convinces Me The Neighbor's Cat Ate My Goddamn Owl
Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets - J.K. Rowling

Top Ten Favorite Books Of The Year (Not Counting Rereads)
Interesting Times - Terry Pratchett
Jonathan Strange And Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
The Year Of Magical Thinking - Joan Didion
Dreams From My Father - Barack Obama
Small Gods - Terry Pratchett
Waiting For Godot - Samuel Beckett
The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
The Road - Cormac McCarthy
Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany - Bill Buford
Hellboy, Volume 1: Seed Of Destruction - Mike Mignola

Bottom Ten Books Of The Year
American Pastoral - Philip Roth
New Moon - Stephenie Meyer
An Arsonist's Guide To Writer's Homes In New England - Brock Clarke
Needful Things - Stephen King
Snuff - Chuck Palahniuk
Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency - Douglas Adams
The Knife Thrower And Other Stories - Steven Millhauser
60. Viriconium - M. John Harrison
A Dirty Job - Christopher Moore
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman

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