Blah, Blah, Blah, Book Blog

I have read other books by Tawni O’Dell, and am a fan of her ability to set the scene, particularly when she draws on her roots in the small coal-mining towns of western Pennsylvania. Her characters possess all the grit and determination I imagine it must take to face each day in such grim circumstances. Despite the depressed conditions of life inside the mines, the job continued to be a draw for workers, who came to fulfill what they imagined to be the American dream.

The protagonist of this story has successfully accomplished what so many of these men and women hoped for — a life of wealth and substance for their children far beyond the mines. Danny Doyle has lived his life in the spotlight; a life of privilege and ease that helps him forget the hardships of his youth. When he finally returns to the town of his birth, he must face all of his demons, some living, and some long since in the past.

This is an almost love story, a psychological thriller, and the portrait of an unconventional but loving family. There is a lot of dysfunction, and a lot of truly wonderful characters. There are a few that seem to border on stereotype — cold-hearted killer, surprisingly likable curmudgeons, kind-hearted cop — but O’Dell handles them all with surety and grace. And even though I knew all along who did it and why, I enjoyed the trip all the more because of the company I kept along the way.

I had the extreme pleasure this weekend to be in an audience filled with children’s book writers at the SCBWI conference. The culmination of this event was a keynote by the recently named Newbery winner, Kwame Alexander. Now I am a huge fan of this prize, as it is given to my favorite kind of read-aloud book, but I was not familiar with Mr. Alexander’s work, and had mixed expectations. That morning, before his speech, I debated whether I should buy one or two copies of his book. For the past few years I have been right on track with the winners — started to consider myself a good judge of what would win — so I was a little humbled to admit this book was completely off my radar. In the end, I pitched my doubt and went all in on my purchase, four copies, recipients to be named later. The book has a sleek cover, made even cooler by the newly-applied sticker that had been shipped in for this event, the first group of books to bear the Newbery seal. We are his first audience after the award was announced this week.

So. Mr. Alexander speaks, and I am in awe. It was a Sunday, and trust me, he took us to church. Say YES, he told us. (part Poet, part motivational speaker) No is only the stuff you have to get out of the way to make room for the yes. He tells how he wanted to be a poet so badly that he took himself on a 30-city tour to spread the word. Literally. How he never wrote a picture book before, but when someone asked him to do one, he said YES. He says all of this to us, and we lap it up, we write it down, we tweet it out into the ether. He walks about and he performs his poems of love, of loss, of pain and we are filled up. And when I get home that night, despite how keyed up I am, how very motivated I am, I do not sit at the keyboard and write. No. I say YES to Kwame Alexander and I kick off my shoes and I curl up in my most comfortable chair and I READ. And I do not get out of that chair again until I turn the last page and wipe the tears from my eyes and breathe a heavy sigh. And I think, YES. That is truly what it is all about. Thank you, Kwame Alexander. You are, as you always dreamed, an amazing poet, and I, for one, am so very grateful to be a reader.

Wow, this one hit home. And I’m not sure if it’s because I’m from New Jersey, my sister is a scientist, or I am a fan of Splenda, but any combination of those things would have piqued my interest in this book.

I wasn’t so sure about the New Jersey thing. Partway through the book I convinced myself that the author must have worked for a large pharmaceutical company, or was, at the very least, from NJ. Thinking about it a little more, I realized that it was not so much a novel about New Jersey as one that took place in New Jersey. Aside from a lot of town name-dropping, the story really could have taken place anywhere; it just so happens that New Jersey is home to so many pharmaceutical companies that it had to take place here to give it authenticity.

This is not a book to read as you sip your artificially sweetened soda, or stir splenda into your flavored tea. After reading it, you will cringe as you pass the packaged food aisles in the grocery store — you may even think twice about entering the grocery store at all. It was, for me, a wake-up call. So yes, I know you are thinking, it’s a novel, right? Yes. And no. Because of course there is a lot in this book that is obviously fiction, but the main points echo a truth we really can’t deny. It is making me think twice. I stopped buying splenda, and I am going to do my best to cut it out of my Dunkin Donuts order… I am going to be looking much more carefully at the things I buy, especially the things I feed my kids. I will have to re-read The Omnivore’s Dilemma, and remember the resolve I felt after I read that book.

Ok, I feel bad now; I got a little carried away. It is a novel after all. In fact, it is a well-written one, with a terrific cast of characters who moved me. The plot was clever and compelling, though the action flagged a bit at times when it followed some odd tangents. The author has an incredible gift for similes, which always impresses me – it is a skill to use them in a seamless way. I don’t always think this way, but I did think this book would make a terrific movie. When I looked at the author’s bio (not from NJ by the way, far off), I did see he was a screenwriter, so maybe this will be something to look for as well. It may be a little painful, if like me, you read it with your kindle resting on an ever-increasing waistline, but maybe it will be more than just a novel, maybe it will be a call to action. And maybe, we will all be better off having read it.

So maybe I should have looked at what Stephen King wrote about this before I actually read it. “Scary as hell and hypnotic. I couldn’t put it down… I’d grab it if I were you.” So, if Stephen King thinks it’s scary what exactly does that mean? It means some truly crazy-ass nightmares; that’s what it means. They will be incomprehensible, outrageous, and also, scary as hell. And then you will finish reading it, and you will be like, um, what just happened? Or maybe that’s just me.

Listen, I am no expert, but Lauren Beukes bio was enough to impress me. This book, actually, is a lot like her bio — it covers so many different categories: sci-fi, police drama, teen angst, romance (ok, not so much), the art world, taxidermy (yes, you know you were hoping for that) and all kinds of cool things I had to google about Detroit. It is a big, ambitious book. Someone compared it to going down the rabbit hole, and I have to agree with that; to me, there were also echoes of Pete Hamill’s golem here, and Hannibal Lecter’s sheer madness. On the only down-note, I will say that the ending gave me deja-vu for the golem, reminding me of how a supernatural event is used to wrap up an ending that before that, was pretty grittily based in reality. So yes, after being on the edge of my couch for most of the book, I didn’t love the ending. Also, for all the horror and scary parts, the take-down of the killer was something of a non-event. I was completely prepared for a twist that never came. But a testament to the skills of the writer, I still loved the book.

I especially loved how it was divided into very short chapters, each from a different character’s perspective. I didn’t always like when the events in one story overlapped the next and were retold, but sometimes that worked to clarify what happened. Reading on my kindle, I could say to my husband, I just have two minutes to the end of the chapter, I’ll be right with you, and then I could read three chapters, really quickly, without him even knowing. So that was awesome. Take a break from reality, set aside some time (or don’t sleep, that might be better), and read this book. It will make you think twice about…everything.

So this year was truly an embarrassment of riches. I had to really pair this list down, because when I went through and selected the books I had given four or five stars to this year, there were more than a baker’s dozen. So, I tried to take off a few of the higher profile books, the ones that really don’t need a nudge from me or anyone else to boost their sales. I chose a variety as well, including a short story collection, a couple memoirs, a lot of great fiction, some awesome middle grade, and of course, a zombie book, all in no particular order. Who would have thought I would have to choose between two zombie books before only one made the cut? I realize there is no solid non-fiction here, so I will have to work on that for next year.

Let me know if you have some for me to add to my TBR 2015.

1. ALL THE LIGHT WE CANNOT SEE

1. THE GIRL WITH ALL THE GIFTS

1. WE ARE ALL COMPLETELY BESIDE OURSELVES

1. OPHELIA AND THE MARVELOUS BOY

1. WOMEN IN BED

1. PERFECT

1. THE FIRST FIFTEEN LIVES OF HARRY AUGUST

1. PAPERBOY

1. SOUS CHEF: 24 HOURS ON THE LINE

1. THE REMOVERS

1. THE MOUNTAINTOP SCHOOL FOR DOGS

1. MY COUSIN'S KEEPER

1. THE SLEEPWALKER'S GUIDE TO DANCING

This book took a very long time for us to finish. That is not because it was too long or uninteresting, but simply because life got in the way. There was a dance recital, a school play, a concert, and lots of homework; all of which kept getting in the way of our nightly read-aloud. We read other books in between, independently, but we never really felt too far removed from the scandalous sisters at St. Etheldreda’s school. And since we ended up spending quite a long period of time with them, we grew to love them.

The author gave us a wonderful device so that we could get right back into the story — she gave the characters nicknames that precisely captured each of their personalities. There was no confusing Dour Elinor with Disgraceful Mary Jane or Dull Martha, we knew that Pocked Louise would be thorough in her sleuthing, and Smooth Kitty would tie up all the loose ends. We were thrilled, we were scared, and we were hysterical. Mostly hysterical (laughing, that is). They were so ridiculous we couldn’t believe it, but then they were so smart we were astonished. Stout Alice broke our hearts, and Dear Roberta had us worried, we truly loved them all.

We even loved the boys — mostly the particular ones loved by these scandalous sisters. We were on the edge of our seats until the last pages, and we were cheering and laughing at the way it all ended up. Start the New Year off right, and take a peek in at Prickwillow Place. You will not regret your stay, no matter how long it lasts.

Unlike the last book I read, this was a compelling, fast read. Of course I picked it from NetGalley because it was pitched as an Australian Fault in our Stars, or maybe that’s just how I interpreted the summary. But, judging by some of the comments on goodreads, I think that pitch may harm what for me was a moving story, very similar in theme but entirely different. Can we only have one teen book about cancer? We have thousands of books about war; there must be some room for this without taking anything away from the others. For something that affects so many people, there is surprisingly little written about cancer for this age group.

So again, I am not a teen reading or reviewing this, so I offer a little distance. I do, however, know the subject matter fairly intimately, and I thought the author did an amazing job describing the isolation, fear and loss that a person with leukemia suffers. I can be honest, since I don’t think too many teens read this blog (!) and say that I thought this book, in it’s realism and it’s honesty, was better than FIOS. The characters were more real to me — they didn’t have trendy obsessions or perfect banter. Their texts were strewn with weird auto-corrected typos, and many times their responses to a difficult question didn’t get beyond an initial “um”. Their relationship was unique and original.

In truth, they were not as camera-ready as those other two everyone knows so well by now. They were not perfect characters, or perfectly written. They were gritty and scared, liars and cheats. They did not live perfect lives, or come from perfect families. But there can be more than one story about teens with cancer, and this book offers the perfect reason why.

When I started this book, I thought it would be a mature, light, chick-lit kind of book. I thought it would be honest and fun. So here’s the deal, it wasn’t mature, light or fun, or even (I don’t think) honest. I don’t even want to spend a lot of time on this so close to the end of the year; in a year when I read dozens of books so much better than this.

To be fair, it started out with what I thought was an engaging main character. She was interesting in her vulnerability, and had a terrific sense of humor. But after page upon page dwelling on the same one-dimensional topic, I realized that losing her virginity was the least of her problems. I thought I would relate to this main character, but I was brutally reminded that I am no longer 20-something, and I am not a person who shares the miniscule details of my life with the public at large. This was probably one of the most intimately-detailed, graphic books I’ve ever read about sex, and ironically, it was one of the most boring. I literally forced myself to finish it, only because I like to be fair in my reviews and consider the entire work. I kept hoping it would get better, but it never did. Because I read it on the kindle, I wasn’t sure how long it was. When I saw the page count was 304, I couldn’t believe it; it felt like a thousand.

So, if you are in your twenties, still a virgin, and looking for a very detailed self-help manual, have at this. For anyone else, you will get more satisfaction out of an issue of Cosmo, and you won't have wasted as much time as I did reading this book.

I am a little behind in my reviews. Not because I haven’t been reading, but because I’ve been reading so much I haven’t taken any time to stop and write things down.

This novel was a departure for me. I almost want to say that I picked this one by mistake — it was such an odd choice for me. But I think my reading this year has been all about making odd choices, but making them intentionally. It’s so easy to get in a reading rut, where so many books start to look and feel the same. I read some dystopia, and then I feel like I have to read all the dystopia that’s out there. So, when a book like this comes along, I need to take a moment to appreciate different choices.

When I saw the cover of this book, I judged it. And my condescending judgement was “crime drama” with the glammed up cover. Probably “ripped from today’s headlines”, I thought. But something made me want to read more, so I requested it from NetGalley. There are times I have a kind of buyer’s remorse with these things, despite having gotten a reviewer’s copy. After all, I do, in good conscience, have to read and review it. My husband got to it before I did, and, even though I tend to think this is more his kind of story than mine, I took notice of how much he liked it and how quickly he read it. So, snotty attitude pushed aside, I read it.

And now I understand why Karin Slaughter is “widely acclaimed as one of the best crime novelists in America”. It was riveting. The characters were described in vivid detail; they were fully realized and alive. The drama was tense, the plot tightly woven. The bad guys were despicable and the nice guys (and girls) were not so perfect either. There wasn’t a character without a flaw (the intentional kind, supplied by the author). So please, don’t be a snob like I can be. Read this book. I am trying to be better. I mean, I’m still never picking up one of those foil embossed, giant-font author’s name, ripped shirt Fabio-guy books, but hey, you never know. I keep an open mind. I can read books like that on my kindle and nobody will ever know.

This story takes place on a sheep station in the Australian outback. It’s a credit to the author’s ability to set the scene that I was able to fully imagine this place, given that I would be hard-pressed to name a time I even knew of the existence of an outback sheep station.

I should probably disclose that I am a fan of Monica McInerney, having already read her books The Alphabet Sisters, and Family Baggage. When I saw this new book offered on NetGalley, I jumped on it. Once I began reading, the conversational tone drew me in, and the tale of this mildly dysfunctional family kept my attention. McInerney is a fun writer, and I find her stories balance out the tragedies of everyday life with humor and kindness. So yes, there are improbabilities in the plot, and there are a few characters who didn’t really ring true to me, but overall, there is the sense of family, and that deep care has been taken with this story.

Besides that, the plot of this book revolves around a common fear — that the email or letter you finally wrote, just to make yourself feel better, and never, ever to be mailed has been sent on it’s merry way to a hundred people of varying degrees of acquaintance. That, and the fact that in this case it’s one of those equally beloved and hated “Christmas letters” makes it even better.

So yes, there are lots of opportunities for fun with this premise, and McInerney does have some laughs. Ironically, I liked her daughters a whole lot better on paper (in her truthful letter) than I actually did when they ended up at her house. Having survived a childhood in the wilds of the outback, these girls are unbelievably ill-equipped to manage their fairly unencumbered lives. To put it mildly, they are a bunch of babies. This might have been fine for 18 – 20 year olds, but they are all closer to thirty here, which didn’t seem to match how they acted. In any case, this is a minor quibble in what amounts to a fun and interesting read. I enjoyed learning more about Australia, especially since we are seeing it through the eyes of an outsider, a transplant who has claimed the land as her own. And for me, Australia is Monica McInerney’s land, and I am happy to consider her my guide through the wilds of the outback.

I’m not sure what I expected when I picked this book from NetGalley, but I will say that I definitely got more than I planned. Set in Wellfleet, a place I remember from childhood vacations, the author easily evokes the atmosphere of the place with description and history. When Caroline Marcum returns to her childhood home, it is not your typical homecoming. Her mother is dying, she has returned to a hometown she left in humiliating circumstances, and there is a legal battle brewing that is taking place literally in her own backyard.

It is difficult to describe this book without going into too much detail about the plot, but I am not a fan of summarizing, especially when the publisher does it so much better than I do. In any case, I will add some thoughts that don’t require too much explanation. I really enjoyed the lesson I learned about the legal history of the aquaculturists and their fight to keep alive a way of life that has been handed down through generations. The author clearly researched her topic, though the facts did become a bit too much at times.

Regarding the characters, I felt the author brought them vividly to life, with a broad range of personalities in the mix. The fishermen, the local color, Caroline, her mother and her friends all combined to make a compelling story.

This is a story about mercy, and, in some way, each of the characters attempts to seek forgiveness. I liked the way the author dealt with this on many levels. I am not really sure what Caroline was supposed to achieve when she sought out the woman she wronged; this plotline offered the only real sour note to the book for me. I felt like her behavior was stalker-like, and inappropriate given the touchy circumstances of her situation. This disappointed me, because I thought she would seek redemption in a much more positive and constructive way.

In any case, I did enjoy the book. It was like a beach read with extra credit — all the things I like in a beach read (beautiful warm setting, interesting characters, a little bit of mystery, romance) with a little history thrown in to make me feel smarter when I finished.

In my other life, where I read a lot of business books - with pleasure - I review them for this journal. My review of these three books will be in the March-April issue. Just in time for spring, a review of books about growth.

I have this dilemma when I am reading middle grade books, when I come across an especially sad one like this. I am torn, because on the one hand, I remember how, when I was deep into those middle grades, I could not get enough of these emotionally wrought books, going through long phases of believing sincerely that a book was not good unless I was weeping at the end. Of course, these were the kinds of books I had to finish in the safety of my room, neatly hidden under the covers with a flashlight. I had to smother those cries so my nosy younger sister on the other side of the room would not catch me, and call me out on the blubbering baby that I was. But I loved this kind of book, I admit, and I sought them out on every trip to the library.

So now here I am, all grown up (and then some), and I worry that my daughters will take this story too hard, will take it to heart, will wonder about me when they see what can happen to a seemingly ordinary Mom in a short span of time. Should I worry about them reading this book? Usually, when I worry about things like that, it just seems to float right over their heads, and they continue on as before, without a care in the world. They are somehow able to maintain their own reality, and understand that all of this is just fiction after all. Then, I convince myself that they are grounded, and not heartless. But I have witnessed them crying over a book (ok, it was a cat they were crying for, but still, they got it), and it makes me realize I cannot shelter them completely from the world. So, you see, it is a no-win situation for me. I am left — after reading this beautiful, moving, heart-wrenching book — weeping, and overwhelmingly sad. It is not a book with the ending neatly tied up in a precious bow, and I admire that. But I was hoping for just a tiny bow at least. It took me a week to even think about writing a review after I read this, I felt like I needed a little recovery time in order to be more objective.

So no, this is not a book I would cheerily recommend. It is, as the reviews have said, a stunning debut. It will wound you, this book, it will bear down on you, and make you weak. But you will be thankful every day for what a blessed life you so ungratefully live each and every day. Or maybe that’s just me.

The bright cheerful cover easily establishes the mood of this gentle story. It is a light romantic comedy that dips its toe in the pool of some headier topics. I looked forward to reading it, especially when the author personally thanked me for adding it to my shelf on Goodreads. As an aside, how awesome is that? Martha Woodroof got one star right off the bat just for that note.

In the beginning, this story reminded me of a less-edgy version of Jane Smiley’s Moo. It is a heartwarming story you will read because it makes you feel good, and you will keep reading despite some distractions that you will just have to ignore. Sometimes you get caught up, as I did often here, and want to know how it will play out – even if (especially if) you already know.

For one thing, there is Rose Callahan (not sure why so many characters are repeatedly referred to by their full names), the new girl in town. She is described several times in unflattering terms, always emphasizing that despite her lack of traditional beauty, people seem inexplicably drawn to her. If I were Rose, I would be insulted. But she gets her payback later, referring several times to Tom Putnam, her would-be lover, as “almost handsome”. This is odd to me – when I fell in love with my husband, I don’t think I thought of him as anything but handsome. Still don’t. But maybe that’s just me, crazy romantic that I am. In any case, I felt the point was belabored, and that point was: plain people too can be interesting and find love. Yeah for us.

There are characters here who repeatedly quote things in their heads – song lyrics, Shakespeare, etc. I understand giving a character a particular unique trait, but I found this technique distracting and it dated the story. Plus, it was noticeable as a technique. I did love the old-fashioned characters and their strong sense of family and home. But there were a lot of expressions I haven’t heard in decades, and people did things I didn’t think adults did no matter what decade it was — crossing your fingers behind your back when you “fib”? Really? I feel like a cynic saying that, but that was too Mayberry for me, and didn’t seem at all a part of a college culture, no matter how small-town.

For the most part, the various plot lines in this book require a hefty suspension of belief, and life seems to happen in an extremely compressed timeline. But I don’t want to confuse old-fashioned with poor writing, because the writing here is good, and the story moves jauntily along. Some characters sparkle. I could have had a whole book of just Tom and Agnes and Marjory, especially Marjory, because she was a character with real potential. Hopefully Woodroof is saving that for her next book.

This is one of those books I got from NetGalley because I had seen it on a “books to watch” type of list. As the publication date approached, I wanted to read it so I could post a review in sync with the launch. But then I began to see the book everywhere, and I was pretty sure that my review was not going to matter all that much. But I wanted to read it in spite of the hype. I’ve read other books by Bloom, though my library’s order has gotten a little unwieldy, and those books predate my goodreads and booklikes blogs.

The oft-quoted first line of this book and the intriguing cover provide a sparkling entrance into this tale of an extraordinary, unconventional family. In fact, to call them a family is perhaps overstating the scrappy bunch described here. About halfway through, I decided this book was really the love child of Armistead Maupin and John Irving. I will admit that my secret prude self was a little unnerved by the unsparing descriptions in the first half of the book, and I was not endeared to some of the main characters until I got past that. To be fair, I am not a fan of any kind of explicit scenes in a book. I think I have a pretty good imagination, and the author giving me details most often turns down the excitement for me, which I’m guessing is contrary to their intent. Honestly, I was embarrassed even typing all of that. But there you have it.

In any case, while I found a huge amount of this book improbable, I loved it despite it’s minor flaws. The irony is that it was the minor characters who led me to accept, and finally appreciate the major ones. And when I did begin to really think about this sorry, impossibly messy, bizarre excuse for a family, I realized that I cared about them. When I brushed my teeth in the morning I wondered what absurd scheme they would think of next. When I went to bed at night, I thought about how ridiculously impossible it was that Iris would have even one career as an actress, but I rooted for her anyway, and gloried in her second act. During the day I worried about Eva, who bore most of the burdens in this story, and I prayed for more of those small moments of beauty that seemed to find her along the way. And when I finished I had to admit that it was worth the hype, in it’s sloppy, beautiful, perfectly rendered way. Lucky us.

As you may remember, we are big fans of this series, along with the Dragon Slippers books. My last review, for Wednesdays in the Tower, might have given you some idea about just how much we love them. And yes, even though a little over a year has passed since the last one, and, presumably, my daughters have matured that much more, there is still a whole lot of whining and stomping when the agreed upon chapters have been read. Despite the fact that we agree before we start reading how many chapters we will finish each night, I can see their political futures ahead of them, with their shrewd negotiating skills being honed at bedtime.

So, having dispatched the castle to a foreign land and leaving everyone literally hanging, we return to our beloved friends and their equally beloved castle, who is a character in his (or her?) own right. There are a few new names in this book, a few new friends to add to our list of favorites. There is the perfect match, once again, of drama and humor that we have come to expect. Jessica Day George did not use our proffered title for this next installment, but we are willing to admit that maybe this one is just as good. So where does that leave us? Happy to have experienced another thrilling adventure, but impatient, yet again, to read the final (oh no!) book in this series.

If you have tween girls, don’t forget to check out my daughters’ review of this book on Betwixtgirls.com.