Blah, Blah, Blah, Book Blog

I am reading Sinclair Lewis after Min Jin Lee shared her passion for his writing with us at our Library Author lunch. I don't remember reading any of his books, but if I did, it was in the blur of high school required reading, so I am having another go at these. This one reminded me of the Cheever stories I was obsessed with years ago; perfectly capturing the details of ordinary lives, and rendering them memorable.

When I saw this on NetGalley, I didn’t realize it was the second book in a series. After I finished it, I realized, embarrassingly, the first one was already on my book shelf. To be fair, those shelves are awfully crowded with hundreds of my to-read books. I’ve read them both now, but out of order, and frankly, I’m glad I did. There was so much more I could relate to in this book. Despite the fact that I have worked continuously since the birth of my daughters, and my job was nothing like Kate Reddy’s, I could relate to juggling a modern workplace, the unending needs of teenagers, and finding the time to spend with spouse and aging parents.

Kate Reddy is a 50-year-old heroine (Yay!) struggling through all of this, all while remaking herself with a career reboot that is taking a little longer than expected. I was disappointed with the plotline where she denies her past to work again in the same company — this seemed entirely incredible — if she was going to start over anyway, why there? Aside from this, her husband is having a mid-life crisis, and her teenagers behave atrociously. I add this because it’s true, but also to admit I loved this because it made me feel much better about my own family! You will see most of the plot twists from a mile away, but the anticipation only adds to the satisfying resolution. I think Kate Reddy is my new superhero.  

This is one of those books from NetGalley that I allegedly got for my teenage daughter, but ended up reading myself. I got it for my daughter because she is the one who introduced me to Parks and Recreation, and the one who binge-watched it with me this past year, even though she had seen every episode while it was still on the air. As usual, she was a step or two ahead of me. Retta’s story was surprising — no slouch academically, she developed a love for comedy at Duke, and it went so well there that she abandoned plans for med school in search of her own sitcom. I especially love that she is a Jersey girl, and that her obsession with beautiful handbags may very well inspire her (force her?) to keep working forever. I’m not so sure about eating Ramen with American cheese; I’ll take a pass on that one. But if you’re looking for a fun and mostly light-hearted read covering a wide range of topics, this is it.

Sometimes, it is really inspiring for someone to give you a nudge, urging you to, "Keep Going". Austin Kleon is a terrific motivator — his Friday newsletter is something I look forward to each week, easily the best email of my day. Follow him on twitter or wherever you go to play social media hooky. This book could be read in one sitting, but don't. It's like a pep talk that can last as long as you want it to, and I recommend savoring it in small bites, at least until you just can't wait to make some art of your own.

Elizabeth McCracken writes, "This is the happiest story in the world with the saddest ending," and proceeds to tell a powerful story of life-changing loss, slow and painful healing and eventually, hope. She offers a new vocabulary for loss and thought-provoking ideas on how we deal with a stillborn baby in a world where a healthy birth is taken for granted. This is the perfect book for someone suffering a similar loss. McCracken's search for consolation offers others what she sought: the confirmation that we are not alone in our grief and our fears of moving on. Beautiful.

I got this as a free e-book from the University of Chicago Press - thank you! This is a weird, wacky book; historical fiction—with an emphasis on fiction— where true-to-life luminaries touch the peripheries of the lives of our main characters. As far as I can tell, there is only a tiny bit of truth regarding Gordon McKay here, and it comes only at the end of the story in a wrap-up. But honestly, who cares? This is a tale of westward migration with Geraldine Brooks' attention to detail and eye for quirky facts, along with the unnerving sexuality of an old VC Andrews story (If I say that a Sister and Brother - twins - figure into the plot, you'll know which one I mean.) I learned about bee-keeping, kiln making, and a bunch of other things I never would have googled until now; McMahon packed a lot into this slim volume, which is totally worth the time if you are up for an adventure.

I am a late adaptor in terms of Sittenfeld’s work. I read her novels Sisterland and Eligible before this short story collection, but missed Prep and others before that. There is a certain upper middle class world that Sittenfeld captures so perfectly, but it is their cringe-worthy behavior that is most often on display. Reading her work, I can easily imagine being at a cocktail party with some of these people, which is not a little disturbing when I see their behavior satirized in print. Sittenfeld is a sharp wit, and, while she does sometimes seem to sympathize with her characters on occasion, I would not want to be the focus of her attention. She is like that voice in your head at school events and fundraisers, when you are feeling slightly less than charitable, but she says it all out loud, and documents the fallout. How can you resist?

I didn’t really know anything about Allison Pataki when I picked up this book, aside from recognizing the name of her famous father. I hadn’t read any of her books. But I love reading an engaging memoir, and Allison’s story was unusual. (Go ahead, take a minute and read the blurb here. It’s a little long, but I’ll wait. If you’re like me, you’ve already purchased it by now. Should I keep waiting?) This story packs a punch. From crushing heartbreak to boundless joy, Pataki rides a roller coaster of emotions, reporting changes with a sense of wonder and wistfulness. Sometimes the veneer of her upbeat cheerleading cracks just a little, and Pataki seems to shy away from telling us just exactly how things are. As heartbreaking as it is, Pataki’s story is also of her family’s great love, and the many things, large and small, that they will do each day to insure that love will last.

I don’t think Paula McLain can stop herself from writing about Hemingway. Seriously, when she spoke at our library author lunch, I’m pretty sure she admitted to being a teensy bit obsessed with him. Thankfully, this time around Hemingway’s mystique is completely eclipsed by the powerhouse journalist Martha Gelhorn, who unfortunately gets mixed up with the hard driving author on the cusp of stardom. The book’s summary uses words like “unexpectedly” and “uncontrollably”, which makes Gelhorn seem a helpless debutante, which she is decidedly not. But what was it with Hemingway and all these women who gave up their lives, homes, and careers for him? That is some amazing charisma…or something. Anyway, this is a woman worthy of her own story, and I was mildly disappointed that McLain chose to tie her life forever to Hemingway’s, especially when such a small part of her success came when they were together. Nevertheless, McLain can craft a compelling story, and I will keep reading her books as long as she continues to find intriguing historical subjects like this that inspire, enlighten, and entertain.

I would read any book written by Anna Quindlen, so when this one became available on NetGalley, I requested it immediately. Expecting a “first world problems” type of story, Quindlen delivers that and more: an intimate portrait of class divides through the lens of one New York City block. Quindlen deftly avoids an arch or preachy tone, and the drama that plays out is surprisingly tense and compelling. Her love for New York is on every page here, and, despite their loudly voiced opinions and general dysfunction, all of its crazy characters, too.

Laura and Emma are not your typical single mother and daughter, and the story Greathead tells is not typical, either. Telling it in small, slice-of-life vignettes, Greathead brings us chronologically from 1980 through 1995. Despite Laura’s lack of “lack”, her quirks and personality help prevent the story from falling to cliché or stereotype. Laura’s well-heeled upbringing and distinct advantage don’t generally make for a relatable character, but Greathead manages to make this happen with wit and grace. There is nothing earth-shattering happening here, but there is a lot of heart in it. I will admit, I found the ending ambiguous and a little confusing, which is why I only gave it three stars. But maybe that’s just me, and the five people who questioned it on Goodreads.

I saw on the blurb that this was the story behind Scarface, so I requested it from NetGalley… for my husband. But then, when he didn’t get around to reading it, I did. And it was, honestly, unexpectedly fascinating. Since I couldn’t be further from that world, I felt kind of like an alien reading about it. But Farzad does a terrific job pulling the reader in, even if I did need to use my slang dictionary to learn some of the less-familiar terms. There are dozens of compelling characters in this true story, making non-fiction read more like a thrilling Hollywood story.

I have to say, while I did especially love the cover on her last book, there was nothing as great as opening my phone each day to that crazy Raccoon when I played this audio book. I do love Lawson's taste in taxidermy. As a fan of her blog and a twitter follower, I think she just keeps getting better. Hearing her read these stories is like having a conversation with an old friend; running the gamut from laugh out-loud funny to heartbreakingly sad. The fact that Lawson gets up every day and keeps writing and touring and driving Victor crazy despite the many demons she battles is truly amazing, and I am moved at how she offers hope and understanding to all those who face similar challenges.

I have read a bunch of Amy Bloom books, so when a new one became available, I requested it on NetGalley and in a Goodreads contest (I got greedy, I know.) For the first time ever, I received both copies, which, for a booknerd like me, meant that I could read it at home and on the go. Don't judge me, life is crazy and I need options. The book blurb says it is for readers of The Paris Wife and The Swans of Fifth Avenue, so, while I felt typecast, they were correct. I think the difference between those books and this one is that this felt much more intimate — not sure if it's because of the "open secret" nature of the relationships, or Bloom's sensitive depiction — but either way, the reader is rewarded with a compelling story of two truly amazing women. There have been plenty of books about Eleanor Roosevelt, of course, but I was not prepared to be more interested in Lorena Hickok, whose achievements, despite (or because of) her relationship with Eleanor, were stunning.

This was a beautiful book. I bought it for my daughter for Christmas, but then listened to the audiobook from the library because I wanted to hear the author read it (and I didn't want to swipe my daughter's Christmas present before she had a chance to read it. Really, I swear.) I got to work early the other day and was glad nobody was around to see me crying towards the end — this is tough to listen to at times as a Mom, and yes, I know I have no business reading YA books but I do anyway. And, when it's perfect like this one, I completely forget I'm a Mom, and I am yelling in my car, "STOP! Don't do that, you're gonna regret that," and I realize I am yelling at the Mom and I am sixteen all over again.

Ok, I admit, I look for opportunities to relive the excitement of reading that first Harry Potter book, and I was already a grownup when I read it. This title seems deliberately designed to evoke that image, so yes, I wanted to love it before I read the first page. And, I did love it, for the most part. The premise is terrific, especially since, unlike Potter's world, even I could master Sigilry if I just put enough effort into it. Yay, I can fly, finally! Miller gives us an alternative history, one where magic (empirical philosophy) is used to fight wars, and to get us places in a hurry. I enjoyed most of the characters, but because there was so much groundwork to cover, I didn't feel like they were developed thoroughly enough. Many were described in broad strokes and Miller left you to fill in their stereotypical traits. I remember when Harry Potter came out and some people disparaged it, saying that Rowling just described English boarding school in clever terms for people who knew nothing about it; I felt a little like that reading this book, as Miller tries to parallel US history and current events, rather than create an entirely new world. I will say that I am wary these days when a "women can do anything" idea is taken to such an extreme that it seems incredible (note the genre, fantasy), and even heavy-handed. Trying not to end the year on a cynical note, but all of this reverse engineering of reality seems a bit like pandering to me. There are some very clever concepts here, so I wouldn't count this series out. I'll be interested to see what's planned for the next installment.