Prov 17:22

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine... - Proverbs 17:22
Showing posts with label recycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recycling. Show all posts

Friday, May 14, 2021

Too Dense to be Condensed?

Do you remember Reader’s Digest Condensed Books? Early in our marriage, with bookshelves in our home but little with which to fill them, I subscribed. Four times a year, I’d receive by mail a hardcover containing four recent bestsellers, condensed to fit into one volume. Reader’s Digest provided this popular service for 47 years (1950-1997) before renaming it Reader’s Digest Select Editions. As far as I can tell, the current version operates the same way. The books provide an opportunity for readers to stay abreast of latest bestsellers with less investment of time, money, and shopping.

At some point, I cancelled my subscription but began buying these books at thrift shops and libraries for 25 or 50 cents apiece. Their matching, faux-leather covers looked fantastic on our shelves and I read most of them. They also served as a lovely way to fill bookshelves on stage for more than one theatrical production over the years.

After I became a novelist, I wondered how authors felt about their work being condensed. Surely some refused to participate. What if favorite scenes were eliminated? What if glaring plot holes left readers with unanswered questions? On Wikipedia, you can find a list of every book published this way, with dates—nearly two thousand in all, sometimes with different selections for the Canadian market. Clearly, Reader’s Digest must pay authors well enough to make the pain of deleted words worth the sacrifice.

Taking shortcuts is not uncommon for human beings. For decades, students have relied on Coles Notes and Cliff Notes study guides to help them bypass heavy reading assignments, though the company would never endorse the practice. Since the first “for Dummies” book came out in 1990, that company has released more than 2,500 titles to teach you about almost anything as quickly and easily as possible. In 2016, an app called Joosr released, which reduces nonfiction books to a 15-minute read. Horrifying? To some. But if the choice is between that or not reading at all, maybe the idea holds merit.

Is it “cheating” to read a shortened version of a book? Is it okay to claim you’ve read it? How about condensed versions of long classics you’d never otherwise read in full?

As more books poured into our home and with both of us reluctant to part with any, our shelves eventually became overladen. The simplest solution? Pulling down all the pretty RD condensed books and donating them to our local MCC Thrift store, bypassing the need to consider every single book. Hubby agreed, and I performed the task during one of my spring-cleaning frenzies. I cleared three shelves (which quickly filled again once I reorganized and rearranged our remaining books.) I’m happy with the outcome.

Imagine my surprise when I unloaded them at MCC only to learn they cannot take those RD books, at least not in large quantities. Not enough space, not enough demand. A pleasant young man helped me reload the six boxes into my trunk. I trundled them off to our recycling depot with a twist in my gut. (If you would have loved to receive them, please don’t tell me. My heart’s already wracked with guilt for not trying harder.)

In a warning to his son in Ecclesiastes, Solomon said, “Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body … here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind. For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.”

And yes, I condensed that a bit.

 

Saturday, June 8, 2019

A Kitty's Tale


It’s time for a little fun, aka my annual acrostic story for your reading enjoyment. (To refresh your memory, an acrostic story is twenty-six sentences long, each starting with the next letter of the alphabet, in order.) This year’s requirement was to start with the words, “Always curious…”
My story did not win, but it did receive an honorable mention. I’m happy to share it with you here.

Always curious, Xerox stuck her nose into the empty cereal box I’d placed on the kitchen floor for her. Before I could count to three, her entire body had disappeared inside, and as I rushed around with my morning coffee, the cereal box eventually stopped moving and began emitting a soft purring sound. Cats are hilarious, and Xerox—so named because she was an exact duplicate of her mother—had me smitten from the moment my friend Kathy introduced her to me three months ago.

Distracted by my assignment to write a good-news story about a local business, I grabbed my bag and headed off to work, hollering “goodbye Hon, have a good day” over my shoulder to my husband Quinn.

Evening had arrived by the time I returned, exhausted and still with no story to write. For once, couldn’t one of our local businesses impress me with a little “above and beyond” service?
“Great meal, Hon,” I said absent-mindedly as I finished stacking dishes in the dishwasher. “Hey, where’s Xerox? I haven’t seen her since I got home.”

Jingling her favorite mouse toy with the little bell around its neck, I turned toward the spot where I’d left the cereal box that morning.

“Kitty, kitty, kitty! Last time I saw her, she was sleeping in that—”

My cereal box was gone, and my husband’s face was suddenly the color of the concrete sidewalk.

“No. Oh no. Please don’t say it.” Quinn added two words that confirmed my worst fear. “RECYCLING DAY!”

Shouting for me to follow, Quinn ran through the back door and around to the curb where he’d wheeled out our recycling bin—complete with the cereal box—several hours earlier. The very idea that he could possibly have tossed our darling Xerox inside was too horrible for words!

“Unusual that you didn’t find the empty cereal box a tad on the heavy side, don’t you think?” Vindication was already forming in my heart as sarcasm dripped from my lips. “What on earth were you thinking? Xerox will be long gone by now!”

“You would think so, but look at this,” Quinn chuckled as he reached into the deep bin and pulled out the meowing kitten.

Zeus’s Zero-waste Recycling Company had provided my good-news story by taking everything else and leaving in the bottom of the bin a small bowl of water, a scrap of fabric, and an unruffled kitten who looked up at me like she’d planned the whole event solely for my benefit.