I can officially say that I am a Twilight convert. I never in a million years thought that I would read the book, much less love it. But, I am here today to say that I read it, and I LOVED IT!
I am not going to spend anytime at all telling you what this book is about. Even I knew what the book was about before I read it. Instead, what I'd like to tell you is why you should read the book, if you haven't already. My friend Meghan told me that the book, above all else, was a love story. Who doesn't love a great love story? Twilight is a love story like no other with scenes that are so romantically intense that I found myself literally holding my breath, waiting for the scene to unfold. The romance was so controlled it was unreal. If ever there was a book for teenagers to read that promotes self-control, well...this is it! It's not just a book about vampires, it really is a love story and for that reason alone you should pick this up and read it if you haven't already. And, for those of you who just can't move beyond the vampires, Meyer portrays them as real people, beautiful people, in fact. You will, I promise, forget at times that you are reading about vampires.
I do feel the need to say one thing about vampires...aside from the blood thing, I think they are fairly cool creatures with amazing talents: crisp sense of hearing, can see into the future, eternally young, beautiful, fast. Meyer certainly makes it seem like a fairly cool thing to be. I found myself, as Edward explained that he was born in 1908, wishing that I could have the wisdom of 100 years of life in a 17 year old body. That is a killer combination! ( No pun intended...)
Happy reading. Off to download the next book in the series: New Moon.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
#58: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
The Book Thief was recommended to me by two colleagues who know how much I love to read. They told me that I would love it and that I had to read it. One told me that I was Liesel. These two ladies know me well. I loved the book. And, I could be Liesel. In many ways I am and in many ways I am glad that I am not.
The Book Thief is actually a novel written for young adults about WW2 and it is told by Death (which is not as weird as you would think--he's actually quite interesting and certainly has a unique perspective on life). I have read more about WW2 as an adult than I ever did as a teenager and I think it's fairly funny. It seems that every year my social studies and history teachers were obligated to begin teaching at the dawn of man and to move forward. Invariably, this meant that I only ever learned history up until WW1. I had to learn past 1920 all on my own. The Book Thief is the second book I've read this year about WW2 (check out my blog for the other one!). I enjoyed the other one, too.
But, even though WW2 was the background for The Book Thief, I think that theme is secondary to the theme of words and this is where this book hits really close to home for me. Liesel first steals a book to remind her of events. She can't even read, but she takes the book anyway to help her remember (I wish I could tell you what it helps her remember, but I don't want to ruin the book). She also steals books to help her ease her pain. Ultimately, she reads because she has discovered the power of words. Now, I have never stolen a book (or anything else for that matter), but I know the feeling of holding a book and having it bring back memories. I have also read books to help ease pain. And, I know the power of words.
Words for me are invaluable and hold incredible meaning. I used to think that books were what I valued and that I read because of the books. I loved holding them and smelling the pages and would smile with every turn of the page. But, Liesel helped me to see that it's not the book, it's the words that I treasure. As I read this novel, I started to realize that I crave words. I re-read books. I re-read old yearbook entries. I saved every letter Rob wrote to me the first summer we dated just to be able to read them again and again (although they got lost somewhere along the way in a move because I can't find them anymore and I feel as though I have lost a huge chunk of my life). I recently printed a message my cousin sent me through FB because his words describing my dad were so powerful and overwhelming that I needed to carry them with me. I now keep that printed message in a pocket of my purse so that I can re-read it whenever I need to. I crave words, particularly the written word. They make life real to me. They remind me of what was and what can be. Now that I am older and can't remember things quite as accurately as I used to, I need those words to help me remember. Words can evoke a feeling and emotions. Words from long ago make me feel young again.
One of the most powerful images to me as I read The Book Thief is when Liesel begins to steal books from the Mayor's wife and climbs into their house through a window. She enters the library and is drawn to the books on the shelves. The words are all around her. This scene, along with the previous scenes where she was invited into this lbrary and ended up on the floor reading, made me think of my desire for a library in my house. As you can imagine, bookshelves are abundant in my house, but one day--when my girls are gone--I have big plans for Abigail's room. It's a room that gets a lot of light and one day, it will be my library. I can see bookshelves lining the walls, a big chair, and me, reading happily surrounded by words. One day...
Liesel's fascination with words began with books, and as she learned to read, she discovered the power that words hold and that life can be opened up through words. As a child, I read books because I was alone. I was an only child until I was 11 and I grew up on a farm. There was family close by, but my cousins were all older than me so I read to have company. Books opened up the word to me. I met new people, went to new places, and realized through those words that life could be very different from the life I knew. In that way, Liesel and I are alike. But, Liesel and I differ in one very important way. She learned at 14 something that I still struggle with as an adult. Liesel learned the power of spoken words. My comfort level is with written words, as they can be crafted and reworked until you can make the exact point you want to make. Spoken words are trickier--you can't take them back once you say them and I am terrible at saying things I don't mean when I am angry, or at getting tongue-tied when I am nervous. I tend to be more reserved and more cautious with my spoken words. For example, I am not the sort of person to ever say "I love you" unless I mean it. I am a teacher, but I am scared to death to speak in front of people (over the age of 10). Now, if you give me a book and ask me to read it to 500 people, well..., that's a piece of cake! I wish I could be like Liesel. She wasn't afraid of her words. She used them and she used them well.
Liesel also discovered the beauty of writing during the course of her life. I would love nothing more than to write a book one day. I have had the privilege of being published (in a VCU textbook on assessment), but I don't want to be remembered one day for being a Teacher of the Year who happened to really understand how to effectively assess the learning of 5 year olds. Well... I guess I do want that a little, but I don't want that to be the only thing people remember. Writing a book is powerful stuff and I so want to take on that challenge, but I have never been able to find the right words. The best I can do is to read the words written by others and detail my thoughts and feelings about their work. It gives me my word fix, but it's not the same. I have thought about writing down my life in a black leather book like Liesel, but have often wondered who might want to read it. My kids, I guess. Knowing my thirst for the written word, I'd probably read it over and over myself! But, I've never done it. I've never even tried. I'm too busy reading the words of others to have the time.
The Book Thief is going in my top 10 books for 2011. I loved it. Enough to read it again. And again. And maybe even again. I did realize as I read The Book Thief that I was going to have a hard time choosing just 10 books for my favorite reads list. It's going to be like trying to decide which child is your favorite. Words, all words, are a treasure and every book I've read this year has been meaningful. The Book Thief, though, is one of the most meaningful books I've read in a very long time.
The Book Thief is actually a novel written for young adults about WW2 and it is told by Death (which is not as weird as you would think--he's actually quite interesting and certainly has a unique perspective on life). I have read more about WW2 as an adult than I ever did as a teenager and I think it's fairly funny. It seems that every year my social studies and history teachers were obligated to begin teaching at the dawn of man and to move forward. Invariably, this meant that I only ever learned history up until WW1. I had to learn past 1920 all on my own. The Book Thief is the second book I've read this year about WW2 (check out my blog for the other one!). I enjoyed the other one, too.
But, even though WW2 was the background for The Book Thief, I think that theme is secondary to the theme of words and this is where this book hits really close to home for me. Liesel first steals a book to remind her of events. She can't even read, but she takes the book anyway to help her remember (I wish I could tell you what it helps her remember, but I don't want to ruin the book). She also steals books to help her ease her pain. Ultimately, she reads because she has discovered the power of words. Now, I have never stolen a book (or anything else for that matter), but I know the feeling of holding a book and having it bring back memories. I have also read books to help ease pain. And, I know the power of words.
Words for me are invaluable and hold incredible meaning. I used to think that books were what I valued and that I read because of the books. I loved holding them and smelling the pages and would smile with every turn of the page. But, Liesel helped me to see that it's not the book, it's the words that I treasure. As I read this novel, I started to realize that I crave words. I re-read books. I re-read old yearbook entries. I saved every letter Rob wrote to me the first summer we dated just to be able to read them again and again (although they got lost somewhere along the way in a move because I can't find them anymore and I feel as though I have lost a huge chunk of my life). I recently printed a message my cousin sent me through FB because his words describing my dad were so powerful and overwhelming that I needed to carry them with me. I now keep that printed message in a pocket of my purse so that I can re-read it whenever I need to. I crave words, particularly the written word. They make life real to me. They remind me of what was and what can be. Now that I am older and can't remember things quite as accurately as I used to, I need those words to help me remember. Words can evoke a feeling and emotions. Words from long ago make me feel young again.
One of the most powerful images to me as I read The Book Thief is when Liesel begins to steal books from the Mayor's wife and climbs into their house through a window. She enters the library and is drawn to the books on the shelves. The words are all around her. This scene, along with the previous scenes where she was invited into this lbrary and ended up on the floor reading, made me think of my desire for a library in my house. As you can imagine, bookshelves are abundant in my house, but one day--when my girls are gone--I have big plans for Abigail's room. It's a room that gets a lot of light and one day, it will be my library. I can see bookshelves lining the walls, a big chair, and me, reading happily surrounded by words. One day...
Liesel's fascination with words began with books, and as she learned to read, she discovered the power that words hold and that life can be opened up through words. As a child, I read books because I was alone. I was an only child until I was 11 and I grew up on a farm. There was family close by, but my cousins were all older than me so I read to have company. Books opened up the word to me. I met new people, went to new places, and realized through those words that life could be very different from the life I knew. In that way, Liesel and I are alike. But, Liesel and I differ in one very important way. She learned at 14 something that I still struggle with as an adult. Liesel learned the power of spoken words. My comfort level is with written words, as they can be crafted and reworked until you can make the exact point you want to make. Spoken words are trickier--you can't take them back once you say them and I am terrible at saying things I don't mean when I am angry, or at getting tongue-tied when I am nervous. I tend to be more reserved and more cautious with my spoken words. For example, I am not the sort of person to ever say "I love you" unless I mean it. I am a teacher, but I am scared to death to speak in front of people (over the age of 10). Now, if you give me a book and ask me to read it to 500 people, well..., that's a piece of cake! I wish I could be like Liesel. She wasn't afraid of her words. She used them and she used them well.
Liesel also discovered the beauty of writing during the course of her life. I would love nothing more than to write a book one day. I have had the privilege of being published (in a VCU textbook on assessment), but I don't want to be remembered one day for being a Teacher of the Year who happened to really understand how to effectively assess the learning of 5 year olds. Well... I guess I do want that a little, but I don't want that to be the only thing people remember. Writing a book is powerful stuff and I so want to take on that challenge, but I have never been able to find the right words. The best I can do is to read the words written by others and detail my thoughts and feelings about their work. It gives me my word fix, but it's not the same. I have thought about writing down my life in a black leather book like Liesel, but have often wondered who might want to read it. My kids, I guess. Knowing my thirst for the written word, I'd probably read it over and over myself! But, I've never done it. I've never even tried. I'm too busy reading the words of others to have the time.
The Book Thief is going in my top 10 books for 2011. I loved it. Enough to read it again. And again. And maybe even again. I did realize as I read The Book Thief that I was going to have a hard time choosing just 10 books for my favorite reads list. It's going to be like trying to decide which child is your favorite. Words, all words, are a treasure and every book I've read this year has been meaningful. The Book Thief, though, is one of the most meaningful books I've read in a very long time.
Monday, October 17, 2011
#57: The Best of Me by Nicholas Sparks
I have only read a few Nicholas Sparks books that I haven't loved. But, I have read a few that stand out above and beyond his others, either for personal reasons or because they were just amazing stories told by an amazing writer. A Walk to Remember brings me to my knees every time I either read the book or watch the movie. The Notebook is the same way. Why I don't flip the channel each time the movie is on TV is beyond me. I guess it's like a train wreck--I just can't seem to look away. The Best of Me had the ability to be one of these standouts. Sadly, I'm afraid that it isn't quite to the same caliber as the others. In my opinion anyway.
Now, don't get me wrong, it was good. It had to have been good considering that I did nothing but read yesterday and I finished the entire book before 10:30 last night. But, it was not like Spark's other stories. At one point I closed the book, angry, looked at Rob and said, "There's no way Nicholas Sparks wrote this book." That's how different it is from other stories. The characters were dark, so you knew something bad was going to happen from the start. (Of course, as Rob reminded me, someone always dies in his books, it's just a matter of who, when, and how.) Even the good characters weren't so good. When I compare Dawson and Amanda to Noah and Allie (The Notebook), there's no comparison. And yet, still I read on.
Even the love story between Dawson and Amanda was weak. The stronger story here was about Dawson himself and his tragedy. I loved his character. His story brought me to tears, not his and Amanda's story. I thought Sparks wrote really moving love stories? Not this one. But, maybe all of this is on purpose. Perhaps this book functions as a warning to all those who are thinking back in time. To those who, like Dawson and Amanda, are searching so desperately to find their first love again, or at least the feeling of their first love again. While I so wish that I could explain more, I can't. It will give the story away. I have to admit, though, that I was able to figure out the ending of this book. About 40 pages out, I could see the ending. It was like I was in Geometry class in 10th grade all over again with a 25 step proof in front of me. I could see the beginning. I could see the end, and I could see every step from point A to point B. That's when I closed the book and cried. I knew what was going to happen and I couldn't believe that Sparks was going to take us there. And he did. And when he did I was so mad and so frustrated that I found it hard to keep reading. But I did, as I always do.
I am sure that someone already has the movie rights to this book but I am not sure that I will be able to watch it, should it ever make it to the big screen, as I do with A Walk to Remember or The Notebook. This one just didn't leave me feeling the same way.
Now, don't get me wrong, it was good. It had to have been good considering that I did nothing but read yesterday and I finished the entire book before 10:30 last night. But, it was not like Spark's other stories. At one point I closed the book, angry, looked at Rob and said, "There's no way Nicholas Sparks wrote this book." That's how different it is from other stories. The characters were dark, so you knew something bad was going to happen from the start. (Of course, as Rob reminded me, someone always dies in his books, it's just a matter of who, when, and how.) Even the good characters weren't so good. When I compare Dawson and Amanda to Noah and Allie (The Notebook), there's no comparison. And yet, still I read on.
Even the love story between Dawson and Amanda was weak. The stronger story here was about Dawson himself and his tragedy. I loved his character. His story brought me to tears, not his and Amanda's story. I thought Sparks wrote really moving love stories? Not this one. But, maybe all of this is on purpose. Perhaps this book functions as a warning to all those who are thinking back in time. To those who, like Dawson and Amanda, are searching so desperately to find their first love again, or at least the feeling of their first love again. While I so wish that I could explain more, I can't. It will give the story away. I have to admit, though, that I was able to figure out the ending of this book. About 40 pages out, I could see the ending. It was like I was in Geometry class in 10th grade all over again with a 25 step proof in front of me. I could see the beginning. I could see the end, and I could see every step from point A to point B. That's when I closed the book and cried. I knew what was going to happen and I couldn't believe that Sparks was going to take us there. And he did. And when he did I was so mad and so frustrated that I found it hard to keep reading. But I did, as I always do.
I am sure that someone already has the movie rights to this book but I am not sure that I will be able to watch it, should it ever make it to the big screen, as I do with A Walk to Remember or The Notebook. This one just didn't leave me feeling the same way.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
#56: Unfinished Business by Nora Roberts (and a bit about #57)
After reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I knew that my next book was going to be:
1. Easy to read and follow
2. A light-hearted romance
3. Not the least bit complicated in any way
Well..I accomplished all three goals with this short (158 pages) Nora Roberts romance. I loved it, as I love almost all of her books. Brady and Van (short for Vanessa) are two characters that you can't help but love for who they are independently and who they can be together. If you happen to love books about musicians, this one might interest you, as well, as Van is a concert pianist. Brady is just Brady and you love him for how uncomplicated he is. Simply put, Unfinished Business is a good book for your beach bag, but probably not a good choice for your book club. It's just too easy. But after #56, I needed easy.
I am already 100 pages in to my next book The Best of Me by Nicholas Sparks. I actually just closed the book (it's a real book, not a Nook book) and said aloud to whoever happened to be in the room, "I don't like where this book is going." I am afraid of what might happen to one of the main characters, whose name (Dawson) I suddenly just love--too bad I am past my child bearing years because that would be a name contender, regardless of gender. I also was crying by page 30. Well...as Rob said, "It's Nicholas Sparks. You buy the book, you buy tissues, you're all set."
I'm off to read. Happy reading to you, too!
1. Easy to read and follow
2. A light-hearted romance
3. Not the least bit complicated in any way
Well..I accomplished all three goals with this short (158 pages) Nora Roberts romance. I loved it, as I love almost all of her books. Brady and Van (short for Vanessa) are two characters that you can't help but love for who they are independently and who they can be together. If you happen to love books about musicians, this one might interest you, as well, as Van is a concert pianist. Brady is just Brady and you love him for how uncomplicated he is. Simply put, Unfinished Business is a good book for your beach bag, but probably not a good choice for your book club. It's just too easy. But after #56, I needed easy.
I am already 100 pages in to my next book The Best of Me by Nicholas Sparks. I actually just closed the book (it's a real book, not a Nook book) and said aloud to whoever happened to be in the room, "I don't like where this book is going." I am afraid of what might happen to one of the main characters, whose name (Dawson) I suddenly just love--too bad I am past my child bearing years because that would be a name contender, regardless of gender. I also was crying by page 30. Well...as Rob said, "It's Nicholas Sparks. You buy the book, you buy tissues, you're all set."
I'm off to read. Happy reading to you, too!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
#55: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
I have very mixed emotions, although strong in both directions, about this book.
On the one hand, I spent 180 pages being completely and totally confused about what was actually taking place. I couldn't keep up with the characters, I had no idea what any of them, except Oskar, was doing, and felt certain that it was my age and lack of genious level intelligence that was keeping me in the dark. In addition, the stream of continuous dialogue made my head ache as I tried to follow along and figure out who was really saying what. Bottom line, I spend 180 pages feeling like a total idiot who was not smart enough to read this book.
Turn to page 181, everything changed, and the tears started flowing. All of the pieces of the story connected for me (FINALLY) and the story came together. In that moment, as I was calling for one of my girls to find my tissues, I could feel Oskar's pain and it overwhelmed me. I knew going into this book that it was about 9/11 and a boy who lost his father on that terrible day. I knew that it was going to be sad, but I felt like I could distance myself from it. I am a bad judge of my own character.
I might be able to distance myself from some of the events if 9/11. I wasn't in NY that day, I didn't know anyone in NY that day, my family was safe and sound, and I just prayed that we would prevail on September 12. But as I read this book, what I couldn't distance myself from was Oskar's search for his dad. In one quick moment, I was 13 again. The year I discovered how my father really died. A friend connected the dots for me and we were able to piece together the entire story (it was my version of Oskar's key and the Renter) and I have never been the same. I remember spending my teenage years searching for clues--what did he like to eat, what was his favorite color, who were his friends in High School--and praying that there was someone who could tell me something new about him. Just like Oskar, I searched. When the memories of this came back, I couldn't breathe. Sobbing to the point of not being able to talk (and won't my husband feel badly now about laughing at his wife who always cries over books) I plugged on and finished Oskar's story. I knew I had to see where his search took him. I knew where mine had led.
But it wasn't just Oskar's story that I was reading, it was his mother's story, and his grandfather's story, and his grandmother's story. And, it was about all of the people he met along the way while he searched. They were all connected. They were all a piece of each other's story.
Yes, this novel is about 9/11, but it's about so much more. For me, it was a reminder that even though I grew up without a dad, that even though I am still missing pieces of his life puzzle, I am part of him and he is part of me. For one short year, we were a part of each other's lives. I was too young to have memories of what he looked like, I have to rely on pictures. I was too young to know his personality and I rely on others to tell me stories of what he was like. I will never really know what he was like. I will never really know what happened in his mind the day he died. I will never really know anything for certain. But, like Oskar, when the searching was over, I was OK. My mom was OK, my family was OK, and we came to peace with it all and we all moved on. We don't forget, but we aren't crippled by the sadness anymore.
I do know that I can't possibly see this movie when it comes out. I will need to wait until it comes out on DVD and I can watch it in my own home. I know I am going to cry and I know that it's not going to be pretty, so why subject strangers to my drama? For those of you brave enough to venture out, let me know how you like the movie. Personally, I really liked the book (after page 180, that is!).
Happy reading!
On the one hand, I spent 180 pages being completely and totally confused about what was actually taking place. I couldn't keep up with the characters, I had no idea what any of them, except Oskar, was doing, and felt certain that it was my age and lack of genious level intelligence that was keeping me in the dark. In addition, the stream of continuous dialogue made my head ache as I tried to follow along and figure out who was really saying what. Bottom line, I spend 180 pages feeling like a total idiot who was not smart enough to read this book.
Turn to page 181, everything changed, and the tears started flowing. All of the pieces of the story connected for me (FINALLY) and the story came together. In that moment, as I was calling for one of my girls to find my tissues, I could feel Oskar's pain and it overwhelmed me. I knew going into this book that it was about 9/11 and a boy who lost his father on that terrible day. I knew that it was going to be sad, but I felt like I could distance myself from it. I am a bad judge of my own character.
I might be able to distance myself from some of the events if 9/11. I wasn't in NY that day, I didn't know anyone in NY that day, my family was safe and sound, and I just prayed that we would prevail on September 12. But as I read this book, what I couldn't distance myself from was Oskar's search for his dad. In one quick moment, I was 13 again. The year I discovered how my father really died. A friend connected the dots for me and we were able to piece together the entire story (it was my version of Oskar's key and the Renter) and I have never been the same. I remember spending my teenage years searching for clues--what did he like to eat, what was his favorite color, who were his friends in High School--and praying that there was someone who could tell me something new about him. Just like Oskar, I searched. When the memories of this came back, I couldn't breathe. Sobbing to the point of not being able to talk (and won't my husband feel badly now about laughing at his wife who always cries over books) I plugged on and finished Oskar's story. I knew I had to see where his search took him. I knew where mine had led.
But it wasn't just Oskar's story that I was reading, it was his mother's story, and his grandfather's story, and his grandmother's story. And, it was about all of the people he met along the way while he searched. They were all connected. They were all a piece of each other's story.
Yes, this novel is about 9/11, but it's about so much more. For me, it was a reminder that even though I grew up without a dad, that even though I am still missing pieces of his life puzzle, I am part of him and he is part of me. For one short year, we were a part of each other's lives. I was too young to have memories of what he looked like, I have to rely on pictures. I was too young to know his personality and I rely on others to tell me stories of what he was like. I will never really know what he was like. I will never really know what happened in his mind the day he died. I will never really know anything for certain. But, like Oskar, when the searching was over, I was OK. My mom was OK, my family was OK, and we came to peace with it all and we all moved on. We don't forget, but we aren't crippled by the sadness anymore.
I do know that I can't possibly see this movie when it comes out. I will need to wait until it comes out on DVD and I can watch it in my own home. I know I am going to cry and I know that it's not going to be pretty, so why subject strangers to my drama? For those of you brave enough to venture out, let me know how you like the movie. Personally, I really liked the book (after page 180, that is!).
Happy reading!
Monday, October 3, 2011
#54: Only His by Susan Mallery
Only His, by Susan Mallery is the last book in a series of books that revolve around the Hendrix Triplets. The story of the three girls concludes with the love story of Nevada Hendrix and her long-lost first love, Tucker. While I have loved getting to know these ladies and think that the town of Fool's Gold would be an intriguing, yet man-less, place to live, I was a bit disappointed in this last book. It was just really predictable. I sensed from the beginning that Tucker, a man who swore he would never be tied down to one place with one woman, would end up relocating and marrying Nevada (sorry that I ruined this one for you all out there, but seriously, you would've seen it coming, too). I did not predict the triple wedding ceremony, nor the very quick woman to woman kiss, but otherwise I was right on the money.
Now, does all of this mean that I would not recommend the book to someone. Absolutely not. Reading this book after reading the other two was essential in getting closure to the story as a whole. And, they were good, light reads. I am not sure, however, that the entire story of Fool's Gold is over, though. We met Charlie (a girl) and Heidi and Annabelle in the middle of this book and it makes me wonder if these three ladies aren't going to get their own stories at some point.
Let the record also show that after reading this book that I have a new appreciation for my garden tub and it's many uses. Read Only His to find out exactly what I mean!
Now, does all of this mean that I would not recommend the book to someone. Absolutely not. Reading this book after reading the other two was essential in getting closure to the story as a whole. And, they were good, light reads. I am not sure, however, that the entire story of Fool's Gold is over, though. We met Charlie (a girl) and Heidi and Annabelle in the middle of this book and it makes me wonder if these three ladies aren't going to get their own stories at some point.
Let the record also show that after reading this book that I have a new appreciation for my garden tub and it's many uses. Read Only His to find out exactly what I mean!
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