Why can't I sleep?

Why?

Hi, Mom!

The three of us, our significant others and our children (where applicable) will all be under your new roof in 15 days for the first time ever. (Let's forget about my reluctance regarding the ten pm start time, shall we?) AM, John1 and John2, and I have to work Tuesday so you will have to unlock the doors at some point. Rob and Lisa have promised to stay throughout the year.

My super-special notebook

It has it all: bug body, uncomfortable chair, the perennial short Bug hairdo, a typewriter, and, of course, an egg serendipitously positioned where a light bulb should be...

JNJ

They really put the “FIRE” in Sunfire

In filling out the “my favorites books” section for my Blogger profile, I tried to recall what I’ve read and was saddened (but not quite shocked) to realize that I cannot even recollect the books I read this summer. I have no idea where my latest list is and I’m pretty disappointed with myself. I read a lot and I’d like something to show for it. I know a lot of people would be thrilled at the opportunity to see my list and I must not disappoint.

“Just try to think of the ones that really had an impact," I thought. "The ones that made you cry." Well, Gatsby made me cry (oh yes, the tears streamed down my face on NJ Transit, 14 years after Sophomore English). But that’s everyone’s favorite, isn’t it? That and The Catcher in the Rye so I refuse to list either.

I suddenly realized that any favorite-books list of mine HAS to include my Sunfires. How could I have forgotten? Oh, my girls!

Sunfire was a series of historical fiction for young adults. Every tale was named after the heroine—say Darcy (#32), Nora (#26), or Laura (#10)—who had to choose between two “men” within the context a turbulent time period/situation (the 1900 Galveston hurricane, the 1896 San Francisco earthquake, and the 1917 era of WWI and the influenza outbreak, respectively). Each girl was positioned in between the two suitors on the cover and I desperately searched for clues in the illustrations to determine which would prevail—I simply could not read these books fast enough.

This series is meant to be very educational and inspiring—great stuff for preteen and teen girls who want to develop confidence. I didn’t really get that confidence out of them but I did learn a lot. For instance, I recall being one of the few 12-year-olds to know who Mary Pickford was or that it was the 19th amendment that granted women the right to vote. (I knew this because Laura and her mother were very involved in the suffrage movement.) Laura ended with an addendum that read something to the effect of, “In 1920, the 19th amendment to the Constitution was enacted, granting women the right to vote.” I would read this statement aloud in my bedroom pretending I was doing one of those commercials in NBC's “The more you know…” campaign.

I loved my Sunfire gals so much, I borrowed against my allowance ($2 a week at that time) to amass the six bucks or whatever it cost to buy them (this is in, like, the late ‘80s so you have to convert this amount to real dollars). I made lists of my favorites: the prettiest girls, the cutest boys, the best names. And I recall at least two separate occasions of obliging my friends to vote for their own favorites even though I was the only one who’d read any of them. (And I was the only one that had the inkling to administer these kinds of creepy contests too, now that I think about it…) "OK, write down who you think is the prettiest. We'll pick the top three and then vote again." I promised that once the results were certified we could proceed to other activities.

I still feel the pain of the interim between books. They were like crack to me and I, in kind, behaved like an addict. I searched through my sister’s closet one Christmas season to see if she had purchased one for me. Indeed she had: Emily (#11). I read it in two sittings, taking care not to bend the spine; each time placing it back exactly how I’d found it. I practiced my surprised look in the mirror and hoped that my other family members would get me more for Christmas.

Emily was not one of my favorites of the lot; it had a melancholy, almost somber, feel to it. Emily was rich; she lived in a Fifth Avenue mansion at the turn of the 20th century and the book dealt with her issues of wanting to work for living. I could not relate. She had become enamoured with a poor doctor who lived with his mother in a Lower East Side tenement (yeah, right) and had to choose between him and her rich friend from childhood. Emily had wealth and beauty but just whined all the time. I generally liked my adolescent historical heroines to display a bit more spunk. Nicole (#19) survived the Titanic, Emily! So STFU.

My siblings and I spent Christmas Eve with our father and I remember when it was time for presents that year, I had the sudden awful notion that the box I was about to open included a number of Sunfire books--and that one of them would be Emily. Sure enough, Emily's blank eyes stared out at me amonst the others. There she stood in her fur muffler between her friend and the doctor, whispering, "Don't look over at Ann Marie, she's pretty upset that I'm here."

Ann Marie could no longer hide her disappointment once we returned home. “I have to tell you something," she confided. "One of the books Dad got you, I got you." Then she quickly added, "But don’t worry. I’ll return it and get you another.” It was at this time that I confessed that I was well aware of the situation; that not only did I know she had bought me Emily, I had already read it (in her closet--with a flashlight). I swore that although, technically, my dad’s was the first Emily I’d received, I loved hers the best. And then I admitted that while I felt this book was one of the weaker of the series, she, of course, could not be blamed. She was shocked but not surprised that I had gone through her closet (if that makes any sense), and has since forgiven me. (I think.)

I have all my Sunfire books displayed on my “special books” shelf. Laura, Nora, Diana, et al. sit beside Stephen King and Jane Austen, and the heirloom collection of fairy tales my Godparents gave me in 1980. My favorite is one of the two Emilies prominently displayed in the middle. You can't tell which is which (because, you know, I was so careful).

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