The Prince of Mist

Our book club is back from summer-break and starting things off with a bang with Carlos Ruiz Zafron's The Prince of Mist. He is apparently well-known in the Young Adult genre - which is what this is classified as - as well as the adult market. His hopes, as he states in a letter to the reader, is that there will be a cross-over for fans, that young and old alike will appreciate all of his writing.

This month's book-picker has read Zafron before and loved it. While I didn't particularly "love" this, it kept me entertained while I read, spooked me to an appropriate degree (I usually hate being scared), and was well-written. It was also a short read so I was surprised I didn't finish it in a weekend; it actually took me quite awhile to complete this book.

The writing was a tad juvenile but I can hardly fault a Young Adult novel for that. Max Carver, the son of a watchmaker in the 40's, is suddenly moved with his family from the city to a remote beach that holds a lot of dark secrets. In a spooky tale that combines sunken ships, haunting spirits, crazy, unexplainable occurrences, creepy clowns and circus freaks, strange symbols, and the appropriate degree of drama and tragedy, The Prince of Mist is perfect for stormy, beach summer nights, or now - as Halloween stalks eerily closer.

While I found the story entertaining, it wasn't something that hooked me or even really sunk into my brain. Some books you read and feel like you're living them. I've even been so involved in books that I've dreamt them. The Prince of Mist wasn't like that. After picking up the book from the previous day, I'd have completely forgotten what happened and have to read the previous page to get my brain caught up. So when I'd look at the book, I wouldn't think, oh I have to find out what happens to this character. I'd think, I have no idea what is going on in this book right now.

I don't know if that speaks more to the book or my roller-coaster book-reading; sometimes I can't read enough books; sometimes I'm just not into it and would rather devour magazines and online articles instead.

The Prince of Mist doesn't take much effort, but it is ultimately worth it (there are few things I read that I think *aren't* worth it), and if you have the time, it is something that could conceivably be finished in a weekend. And - most important - it will definitely fit in your tote. It's a great book to ask to borrow from your kids when they're done.

Mini Shopaholic

I know you're not supposed to judge a book by it's cover (then why do they try so hard to make them pretty, I ask you?!), but since shopping is in my blood, I instantly gravitated towards Sophie Kinsella's Confessions of a Shopaholic. Then leaped for joy when I learned it was a series. And even more when I learned the series would continue (this discovery was many years back so *sigh* Mini Shopaholic is the final book in the series. I did tweet Kinsella begging for a Shopaholic Takes Hollywood but have yet to hear back. Fingers crossed!)

So then I guess I don't need to tell you, I love these books. But more so, I love Sophie Kinsella. A British charmer with a quick wit and the vital talent of putting said wit to paper and have it properly translate. One of my goodreads friends gave her a bad review and I was offended! Her books are laugh-out-loud funny, endearing, intelligent, dramatic, fun, and completely worth the effort (unlike Outlander but don't even get me started on that hot mess).

We pick up shortly where Shopaholic and Sister leaves off, with Luke and Becky Brandon living with her parents while they try to find a suitable home for them and Minnie, their precocious two-year old. I'd say spoiled, but Becky's parenting skills aren't what's being reviewed, here...

In the midst of deal after deal falling through, for one unimaginable reason or another, a national financial crisis leaves Becky feeling like the fate of the economy is on her shoulders when she's probably the only one supporting it. While laughing at the ridiculousness that is her and her life, you can't help but like her, feel like she was the best friend you never had, understand the euphoric ecstasy that comes with shopping, and might even be compelled to do a little shopping yourself. She is assertive and stands up for herself, while also reminding us readers why it pays to be nice to everyone all the time no matter what.

No, the subject matter doesn't make you squirm for the sake of art; the climax of the story was Becky spending an obscene amount of money when the entire series was based on one question: will Becky finally get her financial life under control? The answer: no! And that's ok because we love Becky and everything about her. And no one can say she didn't help the economy.

Any of Kinsella's Shopaholic series - or The Undomestic Goddess, Can You Keep A Secret?, Twenties Girl, Remember Me?, or any of the litany of books she has published - is worth a haul in your tote, but it probably won't be there for long. I blew through these books because they're fun, funny, and surprisingly down to earth. Kinsella - as usual - gives us a sparkly, designer life-raft to survive the dark, deep ocean that is made up of the critically-acclaimed uber-dramas. I hope Kinsella never stops writing.

Fifty Shades Darker

I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that avid readers of the Fifty Shades trilogy are well-versed in Sex and the City, up to and including both movies (sorry, the quality of the second is a discussion for another time). The series ended with a nice little wrap-up of everyone's feelings in just the way you expected them that it was difficult for devoted fans to predict where the movie would pick up and eventually take us. The end of Fifty Shades of Grey was considerably the opposite, ending on heartbreak, sadness, loneliness, and extreme confusion, leaving devoted fans how the story could possibly continue given Christian's "fifty shades of fucked up." But where Carrie explores what happens after "happily ever after" in Sex and the City: The Movie, Anastasia Steele explores what happens when you change the unchangeables and actually get exactly what you want.

Let's face it: there's a bit of Anastasia in all of us, especially as we embark on finding and cultivating adult relationships. Virgin in every sense of the word, Ana, gets back together with Christian Grey faster than us women-of-the-world would, but probably a lot slower than most of us in our early 20s. Loving all of his "fifty shades of fucked-up-ness," she finds herself easily manipulated by Grey and his, what I at 31 years old deem, obsessive and controlling behavior. She finds it cute. And in the beginning it is. But what was tawdry and risque in Fifty Shades of Grey, is sticky, saccharine, and disgustingly sweet in Fifty Shades Darker. I mean, SPOILER ALERT they don't get to the real kinky stuff until the second to last chapter! Otherwise, there is a lot of "vanilla sex," and "making love." The declarations of love are enough to actually glue my eyeballs to the ceiling as my grandmother had always warned. By 100 pages in, I was giggling at the sheer absurdity of it instead of any sexual explicitness . It did make me seriously consider how my husband and I could go from bitterly arguing to making out and ripping each others close off in a matter of seconds, though. *That* is something out of the book I'd like to try.

Like we are all Anastasia to some degree, we all know a Christian Grey; someone of the emotionally unavailable variety. And while this book encompasses fairy tales old and new - including the name Anastasia, who, coincidentally, decides to keep her long, flowing hair - it explores the ultimate fantasy: what happens when we get exactly what we want from our partner?

Christian is willing to give Ana everything she ever wanted if she just stays with him, moves in with him, and SPOILER ALERT agrees to marry him all within a span of a week after getting back together with him from breaking up because of his pain fetish. It was hard to believe the span of time collectively between the two novels was approximately six weeks, and that's being generous (and don't even get my friend, Mer, started on how Christian is only 27-years old. And don't even get *me* started on how a girl with zero sexual or relationship experience has multiple, mind-blowing orgasms. That alone should classify it as Science Fiction/Fantasy.). Naturally, though, if Ana got everything she wanted without any drawbacks, us housewives would have thrown the book down with disgust. Apart from getting the sex she wanted, getting everything else didn't come without it's drama, which - let's face it - we appreciate. Would we be one of Grey's crazy exes who didn't understand why she wasn't The One to Fix Grey? Possibly. He's rather difficult to deal with and I'd want some sort of retribution for being with him, especially if I was one of the few who did caning.

Written to suck you in, sentences usually no longer than a handful of words, E.L. James had one purpose: to lay it all out there. I remember her giggling through a Today Show interview, shrugging and saying she just wrote down every fantasy she's ever had whenever she had a spare moment, even if that meant on her iPhone. As luck would have it for her (ok, and us), they ended up being some variation of all of our fantasies. After all, none of us have actually changed anyone, especially someone with a strong, unorthodox compulsion that requires professional psychiatric help. And where leaving our respective non-changers would have worked for two weeks maximum, Grey seems to be instantly cured. Sorry, still laughing...

While James claims these books have no deeper meaning, I can't help but think the study of these in some sort of sociological, psychological, or even anthropological setting would be interesting.

It was definitely what the Romance genre boasts a "page-turner," but the obsession with the book series is beyond my comprehension. While I'm not attracted to series in general, those of only three books usually leave me panting for the third (Hunger Games, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo). Not this time. Darker sort-of ends with a cliffhanger, something James threw down at the end to leave the door open for more sexually charged mischief. My friend, Mer, said she thought Fifty Shades Freed was a waste of time and paper and that the story could have ended with the second book. Me, I have no looming desire to pick up the third book, if only for the reason I picked up the second: something easy and mindless to read after a summer spent reading memoirs (I realize that sounds book-snob-ish). But if I never know how the story ends, I'll be able to live with my bookish self. The only real draw to me finishing the series is so I get all of the Fifty Shades of Grey-inspired e-cards.

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.

Goodnight Nobody

After perusing Goodreads.com, I briefly considered making this summer the Summer of Weiner (as in, Jennifer). There is quite the long list of hers I've not read or even heard of so I'm sure they'll wind up on a summer reading list at some point.

I brought few books with me on vacation to Arizona and Mexico because I'm literally the last person on earth not to have an e-reading device (when I made an effort to pay close attention, I noticed I was the only one around me in airplanes holding a physical book). Being in the middle of Gone Girl, I knew I would want my next read to be something that would suck me in and make me laugh. Weiner did not disappoint. Just as I suspected with The Guy Not Taken: Stories, Weiner really shines in the 350+-page novel category.

As a full-time working mom, Goodnight Nobody is a story of what I want to be, but is also a frightening portrayal of what some fear of becoming. And, of course, working or stay-at-home, discovering a murdered neighbor isn't high on my priority list.

Kate Klein is what she refers to herself as an "accidental mother of three." With her husband gone a lot, she spends a lot of her time with arts n' crafts, frozen, microwavable food, board games, and at least one trip to the playground a day that usually ends up leaving Kate frustrated with her apparent ineptitude at parenting according to the suburban, Stepford, super-moms. But one of those super-mom ends up dead, Kate being the one and only to stumble upon her body, and the only one with the resources to solve the crime. What ultimately ends up happening is that the world is just too damn small, something everyone everywhere can relate to.

Once again, Weiner delivers a witty, intelligent, funny, dramatic, and intriguing novel with great mystery and the obligatory twist. It was a great beach n' travel book, totally worth hauling in your beach tote (no doubt you've downsized to a clutch for summer). The cast of characters keeps you involved, constantly wanting more, and liking them even though you probably shouldn't; just like Miss Klein, herself.

Glad to check off another one of hers as read.

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.

The Guy Not Taken: Stories

I decided it had been far too long since I'd read a Jennifer Weiner book and when I found some time in between book club reads, but not enough to start and finish an entire book, I picked up The Guy Not Taken: Stories, a book of short - you guessed it - stories packed with the wit, charm, empathy, and great sense of humor that I've come to expect from Weiner, and why she is one of my favorite authors with Sophie Kinsella (Shopaholic and Baby got me through some very rough bouts of morning sickness. And she had a girl, too!! And, no, I've never seen the movie,. I've seen parts and know the plot and I think their depiction is a complete travesty.).

Weiner expertly walks the line - if one even exists between the two - between chick-lit and what book-snobs would consider respectable literature. Her stories, long or short, deliver laughs, sympathy, drama, romance, and a certain serious nature that results in you pondering long after you've read the acknowledgment (because you know you read every last page). The first few stories, for instance, center around a family that has suddenly split apart and the consequences - good and bad - are revealed. And even if we aren't going through something similar ourselves, we still find ourselves being able to relate in some fashion.

While I don't envision ever being detoured from reading one of Weiner's books, I do have to admit that I enjoyed the book less as I neared the end. I'm not exactly sure what the last story - about an elderly woman taken hostage and forced to vacation by two young teenagers - is trying to convey, it just sort of left me feeling depressed. I found myself surprised at this, but it made me want to get back to reading one of her novels, where I really thinks she really shines (she does write incredibly funny Tweets about The Bachelor and Bachelorette, but because I can't watch live with her and I don't want to spoil it for myself, I avoid her Tweets like the plague).

So I picked up Goodnight Nobody.