Showing posts with label must-read. Show all posts
Showing posts with label must-read. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

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Books are like boyfriends: every once in awhile you stumble across one that you wouldn't change anything about, in the places that you'd least expect. I found The Midnight Library by Matt Haig at the airport while in search of coffee for my mid-morning flight. Standing in line, I noticed a small, unattended, stack of books and upon closer inspection, noticed a Post It note on the top that declared "Free books!" Not only did I greatly appreciate this as a book-lover, but I took it as an excellent sign as a would-be traveler. Already weighed down by two other books, and not wanting to be selfish, I took only the one, and was instantly enthralled by the end of the first chapter. The Midnight Library is truly mesmerizing.

"Between life and death, there is the Midnight Library..." and suddenly Nora Seed finds herself there. She is an Everywoman, weighted down by the small - though many - disappointments in life: a confrontational encounter, the loss of a pet, an unfulfilling job and stalled career path, wandering through the world of what-ifs. Filled with regret, remorse, and heavying sadness, Nora - in the Midnight Library, and with the help of an old friend - finds herself able to undo these regrets; the chance to make different choices and try on - so-to-speak - the varying consequences. With cleverly witty writing, truly genuine characters, and imagery reminiscent of Harry Potter, I literally loved every page. It is one of those rare books in which you can't wait to power through it, but you also never want it to end, and I would love to see The Midnight Library on the big, or medium-sized, screen.

This book is pure magic, in the most brilliant of ways. What is at once a hypothesis of life and death is also very much a testament to what it means to truly live, with explanations for the magical that are purely scientific; impressive, though easily understandable by those of us who cheated in Physics class, and buoyed by an honest ebb and flow of emotions, like bobbing through the ocean of ideas, at times sad and lonely, at others funny and lighthearted, and sometimes incredibly intense. Ahh, such is life.

I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone who has recently lost a loved one, specifically by way of their own doing. But, regardless, the takeaways from this book are plentiful and deeply personal; everyone will have something different that they can glean from this story that not only spans time but universes. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5.

Wednesday, July 13, 2022

That Summer by Jennifer Weiner

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If you read any book this summer, make sure it's That Summer by Jennifer Weiner, a story that is both uplifting and unforgiving; heart-breaking but also heart-warming; compelling yet - unfortunately - a timeless story. But Weiner's is a tale that needs to be told.

Daisy is a seemingly contented housewife, but only because she tells herself that it must be so. She has a nice house, a kitchen with all of the frills, a husband who could be worse, and a daughter who can be difficult but is also brimming with confidence and intellect. Then Daisy starts receiving misdirected emails that are meant for Diana, which are mostly invites to fancy parties and events, tugging at Daisy's heart, wondering if settling so soon meant that she had missed out on her dreams. But Daisy didn't receive those emails on accident, Diana is not who she says she is, and what unfolds is a story that is poignant and relevant, a mystery reminiscent of Rosie Walsh's Ghosted, and a true testament to how the Universe works in mysterious ways.

Written with Weiner's trademark wit, That Summer unpacks all of the real dirty laundry that unfolds with every traumatic, life-changing event.  This book goes beyond what we think we know and understand about assault, cutting deep into what the real, long-lasting price of trauma is, for both the victim and the predator, and in being in the horrifying position of bystander. That Summer is about everything that happens afterwards, and comes at the question "What Would You Do If It Were You?" from every possible angle, a harsh though true exercise in empathy for even the most unfortunate of characters. But each of them is heartfully developed, and there are so many moving parts to this story that encompass what it truly means to be a human being, and what it means to have past selves, future selves, and how we reconcile those two in order to live in some form of peace.

I will admit, based on the cover and the synopsis - those on which we shall not judge - I was expecting That Summer to be frothy and fun, but what I got was so much more. It is mysterious and intelligent, thoughtful and relatable, and funny and unrelenting; just like every summer. I've read seven of Weiner's novels, and That Summer is another one of her wins for me. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on my goodreads.

Tuesday, October 26, 2021

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

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If you've ever said, or even just thought to yourself, I wish something exciting would happen, Patricia Campbell is here to tell you that that's not a good idea. Grady Hendrix's The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires is a complete surprise, in all of the most brilliant ways, sucking me into the real-life hilarity of Patricia and her friends, then immediately horrified by some truly gruesome and frightening scenes.

Patricia is a stressed-out Southern wife and mom, caught up in the continuous rut that has become her life, with an even more stressful book club. After a particularly upsetting (though funny) meeting where it was revealed that no one actually read the book, Patricia and a few stragglers start their own club, devoted to the true crime genre, tempting Patricia with the idea that things would be better if they were just a little more exciting. Then into the neighborhood moves James Harris, an enigmatic, handsome stranger who not only does Patricia feel drawn, but also unnerved. What unfolds is a quirky, sometimes hilarious and sometimes horrifying, novel of friendships, coming of age, even as adults, and super natural monsters who not only scare the bajeezus out of us, but also make us realize that anything is possible, including us. 

This book is absolutely brilliant. So well does it capture the monotonous, though unpredictability, of motherhood and wifedome, I was actually surprised such relatability came from a man. In the author's note, he said he wanted, "...to pit Dracula against my mom," and it would appear that he has a great understanding and appreciation for that role. And the vast differences between how the wives behave versus the husbands is crafty and sharp. 

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires is a horrifyingly good time, with lots of humor, lots of heart - and not just the bleeding kind - it's quippiness reminiscent of Netflix's Dead Like Me and The San Clarita Diet. I definitely recommend this book, perfect for reading during this time of year, or if you're ever in the mood for a fun scare. And though My Best Friend's Exorcism is not the prequel, it did spawn this novel, making it another to-read.  ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on my goodreads profile.

Monday, March 16, 2020

Mercy House by Alena Dillon

A very lovely lady, who said she enjoyed my reviews 😁, messaged me to recommend Mercy House by Alena Dillon, a recently published read that I might have overlooked had it not been for this fellow book-minded individual, even though Amy Schumer praised it as, "...the book we've been waiting for." The story is intriguing and captivating, if not angering, though I wouldn't agree that this is the book we've been waiting for, so much as the book that has existed for thousands of years that we've done a stellar job of ignoring.

In an unassuming row house in Brooklyn, with a most unassuming angel doorknocker, is Mercy House. Run by Catholic nuns, the house offers a safe haven and rehabilitation to women escaping otherwise violent home-lives. In a twist of all-to-real irony, Mercy House, and those like it, are being investigated by the Catholic Church in order to make sure that their activities are in-line with Catholic doctrine, and the Bishop investigating Mercy House just happens to be a man with whom Evelyn - the head nun - shares a dark history. Both in a battle with her own anger and self-inflicted guilt, Evelyn and her ragtag team of nuns and House residents will work to save not only Mercy House, but themselves in this fast-paced, empowering novel that is sure to spark raw emotions and deep discussions.

Mercy House is a difficult story, both in the tales of violence as well as in the learning of it, and Dillon handles the complex issue of abuse with grace and aplomb. Her writing conveys the horrors within the Catholic walls without being overly traumatic in the telling, and she is able to stir just the right amount of emotion, which is ignited even further by her research. Though a fictional tale with fictional characters, Dillon draws upon several real stories, which is, ultimately, the heart-breaker.

I can't say I "enjoyed" this book because it tackles some very unfortunate subject matters, but Dillon tells a remarkable, important story. The only thing, really, that kept me from giving it five stars on Goodreads is that I feel there could have been a broader spectrum of ways in which a person - women - can be abused and victimized by others - men. There is a lot of what we're used to hearing about regarding the underbelly of the Catholic Church, but not really anything different, and, unfortunately, there is more than one way to skin a cat.

Though I am not Catholic - or religious by any measure of the word besides believing in God - Mercy House is surprisingly relatable. It is also very entertaining and empowering and not just to women, but to anyone who has been made to feel like their love and service to others is a sin.

Monday, February 17, 2020

Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys

My need to seasonal read reared it's ugly head again when I snatched Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys from my bookshelf, a book I had bought for cheap at one of the many book sales I manage to find around this small city. About the little-known ship, the Wilhelm Gustloff, and its little-known tragic end, Salt to the Sea is a Young Adult novel for everyone; a must-read of the World War II genre.

In the winter of 1945, the forces of evil - Stalin and Hitler - fought each other, with the innocent civilian bystanders footing the bill. Being squeezed from their countries, hundreds of thousands of refugees made their way to ships that held promises of freedom and an end to the horrors they were previously forced to endure. Florian, Emilia, Alfred, Joana, the Shoe Poet, and the Wandering Boy who suddenly emerges from the forest, are among them, each sharing the one commonality of war: secrets, with a little bit of hope.

The gaining of passage on the Wilhelm Gustloff is dramatic in and of itself, and Sepetys marvelously handles the atrocities of war - WWII in particular - by not over-horrifying events, but not sugar-coating or glossing over them, either; being able to touch at the heart of why war will never bring true peace. She offers many points of view to consider, even though they may not be particularly agreeable, creating the ability to spark constructive discussions about characters and what leads them to make their specific choices. I would love to be a fly on the wall as this book is discussed by a high school English class, or - heck! - even lead a discussion myself.

Salt to the Sea is hefty, both in size and subject matter, but is able to quickly suck you in. It is an exceptionally well-written, beautifully heartbreaking novel that is important to both history and storytelling. I will definitely be reading her other novels.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads

Monday, December 2, 2019

Miracle Creek by Angie Kim

Miracle Creek by Angie Kim is a classic case of what has been drilled into us since we were in 2nd Grade: never judge a book by its cover. Way back then, of course, that was more literal in order to empower new readers to discover more and more things they liked to read so as to never get bored. As we get older, we know that this statement is geared more towards people and who we allow into our lives, but both uses are always equally true: we never really know what a book or a person is about until we open them up and really get to know what's inside. Miracle Creek is a beautifully written, tremendous novel that honors both of these principles; we cannot even begin to predict the story or the depths of these characters but you'll be eager to find out by page two.

Pak and Young are Korean immigrants living in Miracle Creek, Virginia with hopes of their innovative Miracle Submarine creating a better life for their daughter, Mary. A sort-of new, widely unheard of medical treatment in which people sit in a chamber with pure oxygen as a way to repair damaged cells and "cure" whatever ails the body, Pak and Young are slowly starting to achieve mild success when there is a mysterious explosion, killing two patients, and putting a single mother on trial for her child's murder. What is dubbed more than once as a "taut courtroom thriller," is also a tumultuous and dramatic unraveling of lives forever altered by a series of small decisions.

Miracle Creek is an incredible book where Kim expertly weaves medicine and legalities and courtroom procedure into a story that is heartfelt, emotional, and mysterious, drawing on her own legal and Korean background, as well as her own personal experiences with a "miracle submarine" treatment. Her writing is fluid and clear, evoking the intended emotion and imagery, as the story magically unfolds to not only be one of whodunit, but the inherent struggles of immigrants, thinly veiled and blatant racism and judgment, mom-comparing and mom-shaming, and the daily struggles of being a teen, being in a marriage, being a parent, or trying to become one. This book is so many things, all wrapped up in one unassuming package; just like us.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads

Sunday, September 29, 2019

The Reckless Oath We Made by Bryn Greenwood

Wow, what a peculiar book. An imaginative, harsh, yet whimsical, novel that sucks you in without you even realizing it. Eventually you are just so invested in Zee and Gentry and the eclectic cast of characters that The Reckless Oath We Made by Bryn Greenwood feels more like a show you want to binge-watch instead of the novel you can't put down. It is an interesting story, told like no other, and, to be completely honest, had I not read (and loved) All The Ugly and Wonderful Things, this story synopsis might not have appealed to me. As it was, it took me a few passes to eventually select ATUWT and books like those remind me of why I always take a chance on them. While slightly obscure on the surface, The Reckless Oath We Made is innately human and as real as real can get, and told by a true writing talent.

Lady Zee - Zhorzha - is nobody's Princess. But two years ago, told by the voices in his head, Gentry is called to be her Champion - her watch and protector and hero in all things. Mostly he has kept his distance, and his autism prevents him from looking her in the eye, or barely speaking to her in those last two years. But when a dangerous abduction puts Gentry directly in line to protect her, the two forge a unique, empathetic friendship that leads them into very dangerous territory, both in their attempt to help Zee's kidnapped sister, as well as what it means to intertwine two very different people.

Greenwood's writing is superb. It is real and honest and specific to each of her dynamic characters with just the right amount of sarcasm, wit, and humor. She creates a cast that we either love or hate but are nonetheless invested, and Zee and Gentry's story is complex and unassuming. I had no idea what to expect with the ending, or how it would make me feel, as this is a truly unique story. But where Elin Hilderbrand is Queen of the Beach Read, Greenwood is Queen of the Final Scene.

There is nothing blatantly special about the two endings of Greenwood's books that I have read and perhaps that is why they deliver such a gut-punch. They are simple, standard scenes in which Zee and Gentry (et al) are being the most human in their lives, doing something as normal and mundane as sitting around a dinner table, or taking a picnic atop a grassy hill, being happy in the moment, being themselves free of judgment and full of only love and friendship, real, human people who have walked through fire and made it out ok on the other side. Greenwood's endings are a subtle reminder that we can do this thing called life, in every form that takes.

Greenwood's books are truly unlike any other. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5 on goodreads. 

Saturday, January 26, 2019

The Bucket List by Georgia Clark

I've noticed that I have an interesting habit when it comes to the books that I end up finding absolutely amazing and how I select them at the library. The last few phenomenal books, I've picked them up off the shelf, read the synopsis, briefly considered adding it to my stack, before ultimately putting it back for next time. After two or three rounds of this, I finally bite the bullet and take the book home, and usually wind up utterly blown away. The Bucket List by Georgia Clark is...brilliant. It is witty and fun, heart-warming and heart-breaking, sexy and hilarious. I laughed-out-loud with, literally, every turn of the page, and found several moments where tears sprang to my eyes. I'm not usually on the yay-women! bandwagon, but this is a book every woman can appreciate, for so many, many reasons.

Lacey Whitman is a brash up-and-comer on the New York fashion scene, 25-years old and not afraid of a little hard work. Assuming it's nothing, and just another box Lacey wants to get ticked off, she requests the testing for the BCRA1 gene mutation only to find out that she's positive. With an almost-certainty that she will get cancer at some point in her life, Lacey is faced with deciding on years of close surveillance or mastectomy. While trying to choose, Lacey and her friends realize just how connected our boobs are to our sexuality, and even relationships, so they create a Boob Bucket List; everything she's ever wanted to do with her boobs before they get lopped off or turn into ticking time bombs.

To start, this book is phenomenally written. It is deep and profound, yet sharp and funny. Clark has her pulse on the cultural polarities, while also creating something deeply soulful and real. And each element to the story, each character, adds a component to the book that everyone can appreciate or relate to. I have none of the medical issues that Lacey is faced with, but this book resonated with me in ways I didn't expect.

At times, you love and empathize with Lacey, and at times you think she's a selfish bitch, because she is all of us; she is all of us women wrapped up in a colorfully likable character who is faced with a most undesirable decision with equally life-altering consequences. She is trying to navigate the tumultuous roads of friendships, relationships, family, and career, while stumbling into the stereotypical woman-pitfall of needing to be everything to everyone and a burden on no one. What on the surface is campy, fluffy chick-lit, actually touches on so many topics, especially those important to women, including our sexuality. 

Clark expertly makes the distinction between being in control of our sexuality and it being controlled for us, as Lacey discovers that, as she sits in the driver's seat of sex-ed, it ignites other, more fierce powers within her, giving her confidence in the areas of her life not ruled by libido. Clark also brilliantly showcases the fine line between caring for ourselves and when that self-care turns selfish and starts to harm others. And this is a fantastic read for a time in our culture when we're trying to find the socially acceptable balance between sex and power, and grasp how the two relate, compliment, and confuse one another. What Clark offers up in The Bucket List is charming and charismatic and covers the wide spectrum of emotions as Lacey goes through it all - fear, indecision, lust, romance, rejection, loss, anger, heartbreak, and happiness, all with a wry, infectious humor that really makes you believe laughter is the best medicine.

The Bucket List also gave me a new appreciation for boobs and a deeper understanding of just how involved they are in our lives and those we choose to bring close to us. They are our sexual antennas, our pregnancy beacons, and worshiped by many. I encourage anyone with an interest in good books, relatable characters, and laughing through the tears of the curve-balls of life to read this book. I encourage people who have the gene mutation, breast cancer, or know people from either to read this book. 

I laughed, I cried, and I am so glad that - after three tries - I finally checked it out. Let's hear it for the ladies! (And get those checked out, too.)




Thursday, November 15, 2018

Ghosted by Rosie Walsh

No doubt the Russian bots over in Europe are well-versed in my constantly-touted Top Five Fave List, because it is so coveted and all, and due to my tremendous pull in the literary world. 🙄 But I have decided to permanently name it the Phenomenal Phive, and it exists only in my mind. Rather than being an ever-rotating tabulation, I envision my list like slots waiting to be filled. And although I read, on average, 30 books a year, and I award a lot of five stars on Goodreads for the simple fact that I am able to appreciate most everything I read, only a handful of books have ever really given me all the feels; and that is what makes a phenomenal book. Ghosted by Rosie Walsh is, in a word, phenomenal. Fortunately, I have a lot of other words to use to describe this incredible, beautifully-crafted story with multi-layered, heart-breakingly complicated characters. Where Heart's Invisible Furies fell flat in the drama of missed opportunities; and reminiscent of what made The Woman in the Window utterly heartbreaking, Ghosted absolutely shines and takes its rightful place among phenomenal books.

Sarah Mackey is a trans-Atlantic mover-and-shaker who has convinced herself that she is happy. A chance meeting on a particularly challenging day and suddenly Sarah is certain her happiness lies in Eddie David, a large, handsome, charming man tending to a stray sheep. After a whirlwind week together, they part ways and he says he'll call. Only he doesn't. And seems to disappear altogether. But Sarah is convinced it is more than just a simple change of mind. What follows is a heart-twisting tale packed with romance, mystery, drama, heartbreak, love, loyalty, desire, and betrayal set against a backdrop of beautifully-engineered imagery. The writing is exquisite, packed with such standard, though powerful, details that give the book wings, and sparkle, and flavor, and to read it is to feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Ghosted made my heart race, made me yearn for the unanswered questions, made me laugh out loud, and moved me to tears. This is an extraordinary book that is - according to the Goodreads reviews - not given its proper due, which is truly unfortunate. The basic premise - the infamous guy who never calls - is so much deeper and more poignant that what the book jacket suggests, which is perhaps why this book does not meet certain readers' expectations. But, wow. Just, wow. This book is absolutely stunning and is one of those I wish I could give a million stars to.

But with every book I find absolutely phenomenal, there are reviews of it that I absolutely do not understand. Case in point, the reviews of All the Ugly and Wonderful Things truly make me angry. Some reviewers thought Ghosted to be, "blah," but this book is a wonderful example of the importance of reading every single word; the "Eddie" section alone is pure romantic torture. I hope people read this book and see the life in it; see the joy and sorrow that is burdened on every person who walks this earth, and how some feel that their mere existence is a cause for pain. And I hope people read this book and see the power, and love, and new life that can suddenly be sprung on us at any moment. This is definitely a book that could be read in a weekend and you might need a handkerchief come the final chapter. But, wow, is it a tremendous book and I happily award it a slot on the Phenomenal Phive.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

He Said/She Said by Erin Kelly

Erin Kelly quickly became one of my favorite authors as soon as I turned the final page of The Burning Air. And although critically-acclaimed, I did not enjoy The Poison Tree but chose to let that one slide, and she remains one author of whom I will return to their shelf time and time again.

But Kelly also ruined me.

After The Burning Air literally made me exclaim, "Holy fuck!" out loud and on every social media platform I use, I find very little in the literary world that shocks and surprises me. And if we're being honest without being big-headed, my brain has been thus trained to pick up and store every detail, and to recognize patters not only within the story but the structure of the plot. For instance, have you ever noticed that character outliers end up playing bigger roles than they appear? But although I don't find a lot of plot twists too shocking, or I can see them coming a mile away, Kelly and her twisted tails never cease to entertain and amaze me.

Kit, an Eclipse Chaser since conception, and his love, Laura, stumble upon a deeply disturbing act in the ending moments of an eclipse in 1999. Though simple bystanders who, both luckily and unluckily, happen upon this moment, Kit and Laura's lives are forever set upon a crash course of guilt, lies, deception, and devotion. Kelly weaves an intricate and clever slow burn that is riddled with mystery and in a constant state of intrigue and suspense. Extremely well-written and thoughtfully organized, Kelly creates great connection to characters, empathy for their emotions, and clear justification for their actions, and is a master at pulling your attention in one direction while deftly working in the other. She expertly deconstructs the pitfalls of our human instinct to protect ourselves and our homes, and our misguided attempts at convincing ourselves that even just one lie, no matter how small, will prevent the world from tipping on its side. The story Kelly has (re)told is timeless, but hers is clever, witty, gritty, and remarkably relevant.

It can't go unnoticed the extreme parallels of this book, published in 2017, presumably at the height of the #MeToo Movement, and current events. Though stories of this nature - both true and for the purpose of entertainment - are as old as the written word, the details - as Kelly expertly conveys - also haven't changed. Kelly vividly re-creates the heartbreaking world we live in, where judgements are misplaced, we throw money at problems to make them go away, and the slanting deceptions we create for ourselves. He Said/She Said is a haunting examination of our own trustworthiness and of those closest to us, and an unfortunate reminder that no one is to be trusted; maybe - especially - not even ourselves.

Though devoid of an actual bombshell moment for me personally, He Said/She Said by Erin Kelly is a compelling, thoughtful, mysterious read that you will no doubt feel the pull to see how it finally ends. Me, I can't wait to see what Ms. Kelly throws at me next...

Thursday, June 8, 2017

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

Colson Whitehead's The Underground Railroad is an interesting novel to critique. On the one hand, it's a maudlin, bleak, tragedy, peppered with moments of hope, but ultimately bringing into question the nature of humanity, and a pessimistic semblance of meaning as to why we subject each other to such pain and ambivalence. But on the other hand, those grains of hope and perseverance are what propels the story forward, and that which places Cora on a pedestal next to Hermione Granger-Weasley (I figure she'd be progressive like that).

Banking on expecting the unexpected, Whitehead weaves a startling tale of slavery in America, leaving the reader never knowing if what follows is extreme pain or intense salvation, which is, at it's root, the dormant-come-active volcano of the suppressed. Though in a halting yet poetic prose, Whitehead re-creates a vivid world that can at once, by the educated mind, find parallels to the Native American's plight with the Colonists, to Nazi Occupation, and even so far as the social injustices we experience and witness in present day, rendering this novel a truly timeless tome.

Though widely praised - I first heard about it during the patented-15-second segment on the Today Show - I can understand why some would find this novel depressing and dull, and otherwise confusedly written. Being the first of Whitehead's for me to read, I just assumed this his style, thus reading his words with a slow fluidity. The downside of this, however, was that I couldn't blaze through it like a page-turner, but found myself setting it down every few pages in order to digest the enormity of what I had just read. Even with his vague imagery and lack of direct character interactions, the impact of his story was not lost on me, which - I'm assuming - is the point.

What struck me the most while reading this book was how shockingly familiar it all was, leaving me to really contemplate the illusion of the world we live in, which is why I am of the former opinion, that The Underground Railroad is on par with such classics as To Kill A Mockingbird, Black Like Me (though I didn't enjoy that nearly as much), and Invisible Man. Cora, though unexpectedly, is a real, true hero; a woman of gumption, courage, and though it tries to be beaten from her, a strong sense of self-worth. I applaud and appreciate Whitehead for creating such a character - and female at that - of whom I would be proud to know.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis

As many a bookworm can attest, naming your favorite book can be almost as complicated and emotional as naming your favorite child. But without warning, Fiona Davis' The Dollhouse rapidly ascends to one of the coveted top spots.

I'll be honest, The Dollhouse was a book I passed on many times over when I saw it at the library, breaking the cardinal rule of reading: judging a book by it's cover. Then a fellow Instragrammer and bibliophile raved about it so my next trip to the library felt like I had hit the jackpot. I wasn't sure what to expect from the book, but I certainly didn't expect it to grab me by my glove-less hand and transport me to a world of propriety, glitz, glam, and gumption. And that I'd never want to leave.

Unlike Donoghue's The Wonder, Davis doesn't utilize any specific writing style to separate her book from any others, but she creates vivid, empathetic characters who we can't decide if we want to be best friends with, or just be period. Darby, Rose, and the gang are so magnetic and charming, the mystery of the plot - which serves to prop up the storyline - is quickly lost to simply wanting to know more about the characters and their lives; like FRIENDS but with more drug rings and alcohol, and less coffee houses and sarcastic one-liners. A story I didn't want to end, I was completely enveloped in the energetic atmosphere, enchanting setting, and the engrossing, expertly intertwining tale.

Written in alternating chapters, which could have muddied the story, Davis ingeniously infuses her tale with blatant label-feminism, and highlights the almost anti-feminist fact that we humans need each other, from the basic food-and-water necessities, to the complexities of navigating a hotel for women in New York City, both in the 1950's and in present-day. Davis expertly tells of what it meant to need a man back then and what it meant to NOT need a man, as well as what it means to need a man in present-day, and how those issues are strikingly different but also shockingly similar. Davis even throws in some sexual identity issues just to make the melting pot even spicier. The elements Davis includes in The Dollhouse are brilliant, from the basic plot backbone, all the way down to the details of a simple spec of spice.

Written in a to-the-point, almost blog-ish way, Davis appropriately and concisely wraps up any loose ends in such a way that is sympathetic to the complex characters, yet isn't stymied by some horrific, just-for-the-sake-of-drama tragedy that would sully the actors or setting. So while the mystery added a fragrant twist, the spicy characters and the peppery plot were able to stand on their own. As an avid bookworm, I'm excited to see what Fiona Davis comes up with next...

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

The Burning Air by Erin Kelly

Every once in awhile I find myself in the mood for a good mind fuck. Usually when I'm in a particularly dark mood, I find myself gravitating towards books of a similar theme, like when I picked up Gillian Flynn's Dark Places. Although I felt the pull of that in the dead of January, I found myself craving a Gone Girl-esque book in the dead of summer so I picked up Erin Kelly's The Burning Air, a book I took a chance on because it was on the Dollar Tree bookshelf so I couldn't justify *not* buying it. After reading the inside flap and the goodreads.com synopsis, my expectations were fairly low and I thought I had it all figured out, not at all prepared for Kelly to take me on the literary ride of my life.

Kelly's The Burning Air is in a word, brilliant. Having read Gone Girl, the epitome of psychological thriller, and having polished off last summer's literary pop culture hit, and soon-to-be-movie-produced-by-Reese-Witherspoon, The Girl on the Train, I naively had little hope that another author would be able to weave such an intricate, creepy, and dark tale about the lengths we go to for family. But I am now willing to start my own campaign to add this to Reese's long list of projects. Or at least make it a Lifetime movie.

Split into four points of view, Kelly subjects the reader to movie-like, heart-pumping, surprise scenes - like a white face reflected through a black window - from the get-go. Banking on the already large creep-factor of being set in a BFE London barn, readers start out on the edge of their seats and have little elsewhere to go until they take a break from reading to let their hearts begin to still. With any large family, secrets are what rule the MacBrides, who are coming together to spread the ashes of their matriarch. Of course, things go less than smoothly and what are originally perceived to be horrible coincidences are revealed as dark, vengeful spirits working like puppet masters behind the scenes.

Written clearly and concisely, with fluid details that are rarely confusing, Kelly creates a haunting and sinister world that gives us goosebumps and makes our blood run cold, but manages to steer clear of horrifically gruesomely, unnecessary violence. The Burning Air enters Kelly into the foray of stiff competition among Stephen King and other Masters of the Plot Twist, gently manipulating readers' brains and down-right tricking them, then offering one last surprise on the second-to-final page.

While Far Barn is definitely not a place I'd like to visit - nor the MacBrides a family I'd like to befriend - this Couch Explorer will definitely visit another dark world created by Erin Kelly.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Dark Places

Gillian Flynn does not mess around. When she says she's going to take you to some dark places, boy does she mean it. After finishing Gone Girl, I wasn't sure I'd ever be mentally prepared to step back into the disturbing worlds she seems so hell-bent on creating in such vivid, morbid detail. But I found myself in a bad mood for about a week and was inexplicably drawn to Dark Places, knowing I was only guaranteed an ending, not whether it would be a good one.

Set in both 1985 and present day, Flynn takes us on a mysterious journey of murder, Satan worship, and family drama. Libby is the sole survivor of "The Satan Sacrifice of Kinnakee, Kansas," and to say her emotional scars run deep is a vast understatement. To say her pockets run just as deep is a misconception that leads to her using her story and involvement in the murder as a way to keep afloat a lifestyle she's not all that interested in. But what she inevitably discovers is that what she thought she knew isn't what she knew at all, and that while she was the one person to help convict the killer 25 years ago, she's probably the only one who knows the least about what happened.

Just reading the back book cover and it's no big surprise who the killer is. Or is it? Like Sharp Objects and Gone Girl, the reader goes through the range of emotions of it being obvious who did it but maybe they didn't do it, not having any idea who did it, thinking every character did it, then figuring out who did it and thinking, D'oh! Why didn't I think of that before? But what I most appreciate about Flynn - besides her penchant for going where we're all thinking without holding back - is that, as the reader, we unravel the mystery right along with the main character. Too many mysteries I've read have the protagonist figuring everything out long before the reader is supposed to, and patronizes the reader by making them wait to find out what they know. With Libby, we had the pleasure of the cogs in our brain turning right along with her's, and thankfully only she was subjected to the immediate result.

An incredibly dark story written with zero glints of sunlight, Flynn enlightens the dark places hidden in all of us and what sets them free and what keeps them in check by our morals. She subtly breaks it down to reveal that none of us are very different and that all of us are just a few misunderstandings away from turning into the darkness ourselves. A must-read you won't mind carrying in your tote - or not even have to since it's completely plausible to finish in a weekend - Flynn expertly weaves together what is great about Gone Girl and what is great about Sharp Objects: mystery with just enough creep to keep it intriguing, and horrifying while still maintaining a bit of fantasy. Or at least that's what I tell myself in order to get to sleep at night...

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Frozen In Time

I know I routinely tout that there isn't anything I won't read (except that time I refused to read The Girl Who Played with Fire). I'm still disappointed I misplaced The Book of Mormon an Arizona Senator gave me when I was in my early 20's, and I've tried reading the Bible a few times but have never gotten further than the apple. When they find one that reads like a novel, let me know. But it's not like I refuse to read historical non-fiction, it's just that I've never considered it before. Like the Fantasy genre, it has never entered my book-verse. But I read and enjoyed Game of Thrones so I can read Frozen In Time: An Epic Story of Survival and a Modern Quest for Lost Heroes of WWII and enjoy that, too. And I did.

If I were to pick up a historical non-fiction of my own volition, a story about any war would not be it. While incredibly interesting, when it starts to get down to details like airplane types, bomb types, rankings, etc. my brain goes numb. So this book was introduced to me by my friend who agreed to read The Gringo with me if I read this with her, and I have to say, she made a much better choice.

A professor at Boston University, Mitchell Zuckoff embarks on a highly improbable mission to recover downed airplanes in the expanse of Greenland, lead by a man whose sole purpose in life is to recover people and items from the war and return them to US soil. Missions of this exact nature were tried and failed in the past, making government intervention highly unlikely and unstable at best. Without losing hope and with time rapidly closing in before nasty-ER weather smothered Greenland, the crew and Zuckoff, documenting the expedition, reached Greenland with no other option than to find the Duck, a WWII amphibious airplane that disappeared while trying to rescue another crash.

Zuckoff expertly weaves together two enthralling tales: one of the courageous, heroic, and amazing men struggling to survive in half an airplane during a rough Arctic winter (like there's any other kind); the other a modern-day adventure of mystery, intrigue, danger, drama, and suspense as they try to solve the mystery of exactly what happened all those years ago. Although the beginning takes a bit of effort to trudge through thanks to those darn things called "facts" and "information," and given this wouldn't have been my first book choice....ever.... I was surprised to find myself unable to put it down in under 100 pages (if it takes over 100 pages I start to wonder why I'm wasting my time with your book). I even hauled it in my tote across the country to - how ironic is this? - Boston (if I had read the book jacket more closely, I probably would have stalked him while I was in the area).

Written clearly, concisely, and with only a hint of personal feelings about what was happening at any given moment, Zuckoff takes something that could have ended up extremely dry and turned it into something so thrilling that the moment I finished the book, I tweeted him begging to tell me a follow-up was in the works (as far as I know, no; but he did send me the link to his blog).

Finishing this in a weekend would be a little ambitious, there is a lot of information and a lot of things that promote putting it down every few minutes and staring off into space to contemplate. Thanks to this pick, I've added his previous best-seller, Lost in Shangri-La: Escape from a Hidden World - A True Story, which received high-praise from people I take book advice from: my friend and my Uncle.

I'm sure most war-based, historical non-fiction books are interesting but since this is my one and only experience, I'm going to go ahead and recommend you read this one. It's one of the few I've "taken for the team," and read on hard-cover, and I'm glad I did.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Twenties Girl

I make no secret of how much I love Sophie Kinsella. Freshly on board the chick-lit train thanks to another one of my faves, Jennifer Weiner, I happened across Confessions of a Shopaholic back when I didn't have a husband or baby and could afford to be a shopaholic myself. Knowing me, really, how could I *not* have picked it up? I had found my literary soul-sister! And to my jubilation, other books with the same character and basic subplot soon followed (find my review of Mini Shopaholic HERE).

When I found other novels of her's - The Undomestic Goddess, Can You Keep A Secret?, Remember Me? - I was hesitant to be introduced to characters that weren't the lovable, relatable, irresistible Becky Bloomwood. Had I indulged my hesitation, I would have missed out on some very remarkable novels.

As much of a book-lover as I am, I don't keep up with the up-to-the-minute literary news. I'm often surprised to learn my favorite authors have many more books than I realized, Kinsella chief among them (and that's not counting the other names she writes under). First published in 2009, I snagged Twenties Girl a few years later as a paperback (can't stand reading hardcover but I'll take one for the team now and again), and included it in my must-read vacation-reads.

Coming off A Dog's Journey, I wanted something fun, frothy, ridiculous, but still incredibly endearing, and I found that all amongst the 400-ish pages of Kinsella's Twenties Girl. A young woman in her twenties, Lara, is befriended by an odd guest at her great-Aunt's funeral with a very interesting demand request. Sucked into a world that is the past amongst the present, Lara and her friend become on odd match against the world but embody the promise that it is not what is outside that matters most, but what is on the inside. And that first impressions can be misleading.

Written with patented Kinsella charm, humor, empathy, and a real investment in the characters, Twenties Girl is a laugh-out-read that makes you wish the ridiculous story she weaves be even partly true. I was almost sad when it was over, wishing the misadventures of Lara and her world would never end. But Kinsella will no doubt create more fantastically interesting characters for me to get wrapped up in and I can't wait. (Remember Me? is calling to me from my bookshelf.)

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Waiting to be Heard

As the summer of 2013 approached, I came across an article on NPR Books that said this was to be the summer of reading memoirs. I was intrigued with the idea so I did just that, starting with Waiting to be Heard by Amanda Knox. Coincidentally, I picked it up right around the time it was announced they were going to re-try her in Italy for the murder of her British roommate several years ago.

I didn't follow much of the story as it was happening back in 2009, just aware of the minor points. My friend, Meredith (just a horrible coincidence that the victim was also named Meredith), followed the news a little more closely and told me the Italian police were saying it was some sort of sex-game-gone-wrong. My mind couldn't make the connection so I decided the best thing to do was read the story in her own words, what happened moment by moment from the person who was actually there living it. While an amazing story, and amazingly well-written, none of my questions were really answered. As it happened, though, that is the ultimate fault of the story, not the storyteller.

In all honesty, since we know the outcome to present day (closing arguments in the re-trial were completed before the holidays for a verdict early this year), reading this book can be quite difficult. So much so that Meredith (my friend, not the murdered girl) couldn't read it, knowing what she already does about the case. Personally, I couldn't put it down, waiting for that obvious link between mousy-girl-studying-abroad and sex-vixen-who-kills-for-pot.

Written remarkably well and shockingly honest, which became the deciding factor in voting for either this or Jenna Miscavige Hill's Beyond Belief in the goodreads.com awards, my mind boggled at how someone so smart and seemingly capable could be so naive and incredibly stupid. Several times you find yourself exclaiming out loud, "How could you be so stupid?!" And wanting to shake her by the shoulders. Entirely too trusting in foreign government built on hearsay and exaggerations, even as she is being locked up in prison, Knox is sure someone somewhere will realize this has all been a terrible mistake. Not old and experienced enough to understand the political puppet-show behind the scenes and the desperate need for a conviction, she waits....and waits....and waits....for someone to see, hear, and believe her side of the story to the extent that I don't think you could call what she did during her first trial "defending herself."

Convicted and processed in prison in a haze, Knox slowly begins to understand the forces around her and how she is the only one who can really help her. While being in an Italian prison isn't exactly the Four Seasons, Knox continues her education and builds her self-esteem to the extent that surely was a factor in powering her second trial acquittal.

Although the main purpose of this book was for Knox to tell the story in her own words, it also highlighted the incredible failings of a foreign government, particularly those towards their foreigners. This entire story has put a spotlight on the Italian judicial system and raises serious questions about their investigative practices. Particularly, why exactly is it so important Knox be convicted of having some role in the murder, even when scientific evidence proves otherwise? Is it just about saving face and not wanting to admit they were wrong?

Living back in Washington, and going to school to study creative writing, Knox now awaits the fate she's waited for twice already. As many failings as our own government and judicial system might have (*cough* Republicans), Amanda's story makes you thankful you live in the great U S of A. Just don't go to Perugia anytime soon.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Doctor Sleep

Everything of pop culture that I enjoy has inevitably come directly from from pop-culture and Stephen King's The Shining was no different. I started watching Melrose Place on DVD in my mid-twenties after the iconic Seinfeld episode, and I decided to read The Shining after it was the only book Friends' Joey Tribiani would actually read (I tried to read Little Women too, but that didn't work out so well).

Almost ten years later and thoughts of The Shining still give me the creeps. I can't remember anything other than the general plot-line, and the movie forever tarnished the book for me as a "good one," but I still think it is a must-read. I didn't know King was releasing a sequel until about a week before, and while I've never been excited about a book release (Harry Potter doesn't count, of course), the news of this made me excited in the way you are to go on roller coasters. I didn't remember most of The Shining and that was written over 30 years ago; only God and Mr. King knew what could possibly be in...Doctor Sleep.

Danny, being too smart and too experienced for his young age with a mother who was too naive and too inexperienced for her age, didn't have the best childhood. His horrific history in Colorado combined with a family history of alcoholism didn't line him up for the best of opportunities, either. Running from town-to-town, bottle-to-bottle, the now-middle-aged Dan searches for a place he can call home. Far-removed from the horrors of Colorado, in a small, Norman-Rockwell, New-England town, Dan begins to make a life for himself that just happens to include being able to do the same....uh....tricks he was able to do when he was younger. Only now he's not alone.

A young girl with talents similar to Danny is wanted by sub-human, literal soul-suckers (there are a lot of those in Colorado) and the only person who can really help her is Dan. This, of course, means facing evils he's spent his entire life running from and drowning in liquor. But the question isn't if he'll save her but how.

Given that King isn't the first author on my reading list, his books are always a bit of a surprise. I don't remember what I was expecting from The Shining, but there are parts of it that I still don't understand. Ten years and a lot of read-books later and what I expected from Doctor Sleep was not to understand everything. Probably the biggest thing I don't understand with authors like King, Martin, and Tolkien is the extent of their imagination and the expert way they are able to weave together stories to make one fantastic tapestry of story-telling. So many times I had to put Doctor Sleep down so my heart could quit racing and let my brain digest everything. Reading like part diary, part novel, part AA pamphlet, King's latest scare-fest is something you can't put down and could conceivably finish in a weekend if you're ambitious.

I'm not a fan of being scared. I've hated Halloween most of my life, and horror movies have grown largely distasteful after they turned into the exploitation of the worst of the human race instead of creating monsters that could never actually exist. King expertly delivers both. Doctor Sleep creates the monsters from under your bed but has them prey on the fears and evils of the human condition. And I'm not sure about King's other books, but in this read, one bad-ass literary hero emerges and that is always a bonus.

Abra Stone is the only other person in the world who knows what it's like to be Daniel Torrance. Plagued by the same...shining...we go along for the ride as she is born, lives, "meets" Dan, and battles to keep her life from ending before hitting her teens. And all the while I'm reading her journey, my friend's question of If You Could Be Any Female Character from a Book, Who Would You Be? kept running through my mind. While I don't think I'd change my answer from Hermione to Abra, I think they are one in the same: problem-solvers, smart, brave, kind, true, and strong. But of course Hermione still wins because she ends up married to Ron Weasely in the end.

Other Doctor Sleep reviews prohibit reading The Shining first, obviously mistaking it for the Robert Langdon trilogy of Dan Brown, a case in which I adamantly suggest reading The DaVinci Code before Angels and Demons as the latter will literally give you nightmares. But I think reading The Shining first is imperative to really understanding Dan, how Abra and him are so inexplicably linked, how they're able to fight the ultimate fight, and in being able to comprehend the importance of certain characters who only make small appearances but huge impacts to the story.

Doctor Sleep truly is a remarkable story and King is nothing short of a miraculous storyteller. Weaving factual information with personal experience and the ultimate imagination results in a book you sort of float through; you're not consciously aware of picking up the book and reading but all of a sudden you're on page 400. If there is one thing that plagues me, it is that there is one main question left, if not unanswered, largely assumed. Given it took 30 years for the sequel, I highly doubt a third book to accompany The Shining, so that can't be the reason, in which case I will assume what I can only assume the author wanted me to assume.

That point aside, Doctor Sleep is definitely worth a haul in your tote and highly recommended. Score another one for pop culture!

 
(The creepy starts about page 4 but the cover gets things going well enough.)

Saturday, August 31, 2013

A Dog's Purpose

What is a dog's purpose? Not *the* dog's purpose, but this specific dog's purpose? Like, your dog? What is his purpose in his life, a considerably shorter one than we'll hopefully enjoy? Is it just to be a human companion? To save people in every definition of the word? What about a dog who doesn't enjoy the comforts of domesticity? What purpose do the stray dogs have? In W. Bruce Cameron's A Dog's Purpose, one such dog - yes, dog - grapples with all of these questions and more as he moves through, experiences, and loves and hates various different lives.

As a puppy - and as he continues to grow, die, and be reborn a new puppy - his instincts are sharp, the most pointed towards humans; responding to them, reacting to them, obeying them, and feeding off the emotions of them. He knows right off that man trumps all other Top Dogs in his makeshift packs, that his life is completely dependent upon how his owner wants it to be; and he's ok with that, relishes it and even craves it.

"He" has various names as he navigates the very different aspects of each of his lives. He is given names and accepts them wholeheartedly but, interestingly enough, is very particular about who he chooses to attach himself too. Some extra scrutiny pointed towards my own dogs and I notice this is very much the same - other people just don't matter.

But once he leaves his most favorite person of all, he's frustrated and confused to learn that taking care of him hadn't been his ultimate purpose. What was it?! And if his life is supposed to have purpose, why did he come back only to have lives that seemingly had no purpose?

Over the span of several lifetimes - some short, some long - he experiences a wide range of the dog-life spectrum, from puppy-hood, to the family dog, to the working dog, stray dog, forgotten dog, neglected dog, abandoned dog, traveling dog, but always a good dog. He always remembered his previous lives, and the lives before that, often drawing on experiences from each to roll him into one extraordinary dog (clearly my own fur-babies are on their first life).

Research was done, and while the book isn't anything scientific, it does offer some enlightenment and heartfelt appreciation for those pooches we do make as family. And it's interesting to see some of Cameron's simply-described, yet incredibly vivid scenes play out in my own dogs, being aware of them taking their cues from our emotions, observing when they know they need to stay close as opposed to wandering more freely, and noticing when each sticks to the respective person they've deemed "theirs" (I type this as the dog I had before getting married lays at my feet).

Written simply, as though written by a dog, I often found myself needing to be reminded that it was actually written by a human. And then there were other instances where it was clearly written by a human who didn't think very highly of cats (or horses). As appropriately stated on the front cover by the author of The Color Purple, "I laughed and smiled and cried," sometimes all at the same time.

So while The Art of Racing in the Rain focused on the Mongolian belief that dogs are reborn as humans, A Dog's Purpose operates on the idea of reincarnation until their purpose is satisfied, reminiscent of what little I know of Hindu theology that a person will continue to come back and live until they have lived a "good" life. This book makes me wonder if my childhood Golden Retriever, Sam, might someday make it back to me.

As Buddy, he finally, heartbreakingly understands his purpose and is ready for peace. But his work might not be over yet....


I wasn't aware of the sequel until writing that last sentence so the sudden, rough ending of A Dog's Purpose is now understandable. Written as if Cameron wasn't sure a sequel would follow, the end is an abrupt, ragged, everything-wrapped-up-in-a-tear-stained-bow ending without really explaining why.

I emotionally rated this book on goodreads.com five stars out of five after it was the only book I actually cried after finishing as opposed to while I was finishing. After calming down and considering the blunt - dare I say, forced - ending, I'd change it to four out of five. While this read is completely worth the time and effort, and worth hauling around in your tote, animal stories - particularly dog stories - always come with a certain trepidation. Being written from the dog's perspective can ease that as well as make it worse, depending on the circumstance. Do I really want to know how he feels being dropped off at the shelter? While at the same time, appreciating his lack of understanding when he just *has* to be in the bedroom during "adult wrestling," Cameron expertly dancing between the two.

All in all, A Dog's Purpose is a great book, worth the time, and one of those rare specimens that leaves you a little altered afterward. And it's like my dogs knew I was reading about them or something, as they seem to appreciate me just a little more, too. But maybe that is just their purpose.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Gone Girl

So I took a bit of a detour from Jennifer Weiner's The Guy Not Taken: Stories and Goodnight Nobody with a returning author, Gillian Flynn and her incredibly disturbing Gone Girl. I read her Sharp Objects for book club and was thoroughly creeped; most of the scenes left me feeling like Flynn could use a nice long stay in a pysch ward. And I have to admit, had I read Gone Girl first, I think I would have "accidentally forgotten" to read Sharp Objects. For the losers who didn't read the book that month, we filled them in and it was enough to detour them from ever reading it.

Flynn writes the story we've seen a million times splattered over the news - wife disappears, husband is the prime suspect, and his strange behavior isn't helping matters. But the vivid, creative, every-detail-thought-of way she tells the story can only lead me to assume she's thought about unfolding this scenario before.

Flynn leads you on a wild chase of you knowing who did it, not being entirely sure who did it, wondering who actually did do it, and all the while in the back of your mind thinking what you do when it's a news story: was anything actually done or is it like that story of the bride who staged her own kidnapping? You never actually know until you do, and then you're even more disturbed than before.

This book is a definite beach-read and something you'll get sucked into and feel slightly dirty by. I lent it to my coworker and it was the first and only book we actually discussed (besides the quality of the bodice-ripper I gave her as a joke for Christmas).

I said before that Sharp Objects was fuuuuuucccckkkeeedd up and I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Gone Girl is fuuuuuucccckkkkkeedddd up to the second power. She has another book floating around the book-o-sphere and I might be compelled to read it in the future. But I say that more so because I would never close myself off to reading something. At least now I know that when I feel that draw, I will be reading some seriously disturbing shit. I mean, I knew Gone Girl was going to be similar in disturbing nature as Sharp Objects but now I'm like that puppy who's been bopped one too many times.