I had such incredibly high hopes. It's not that this book was a letdown. It was a fast read, I was interested in the story, it just didn't live up to my expectations based on the two other books I've read by the same author. If nothing else, it's a fascinating look back at an author's evolution.
If you've read this blog for awhile, you know that I am OBSESSED with Daisy Jones & The Six. The Taylor Jenkins Reid novel is everywhere this spring and it's so good, I've told my co-workers that I'll pay them $1,000 if they don't like it. I'm also obsessed with Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, a book Reid wrote a few years back. It's in my top 10 books of all time. In both books, Reid's characters and use of dialogue carry the reader through unexpected emotional journeys. Each have a unique style and a fascinating twist. Both books ended with me wishing I could read them again for the first time.
So, I went back. Back to the beginning. The library had Reid's first novel and the premise made for a good place to start. After a lightning-fast courtship and a quickie marriage, Elsie and Ben get married and start their lives together. Nine days later, Ben is dead and Elsie is faced with his family, who doesn't even know she exists. Over time, she builds a relationship with Ben's mom while the two try to get their own lives back on track.
The characters are fine, the plot is unique and story is told back and forth between life before Ben's death and life after. What's missing here that's so present in the other books: suspense. Drama. A twist. The story, while emotional, simply carries from beginning to end. There's no major detours on the road, nothing to make you gasp as you turn a page.
It's fine. But, it's not great. Reid comes along way between here and Daisy Jones.
What's the biggest takeaway from Lisa Brennan-Jobs' memoir?
Her dad was a strange dude.
That probably wouldn't be much of a memoir - a lot of us have strange dads. What makes this book such a fascinating read is that her dad is Apple founder Steve Jobs. And their relationship was incredibly complicated.
This book was on a ton of lists as one of the best non-fiction reads of 2018. It's not hard to see why. Lisa Brennan-Jobs was born to former high school sweethearts who had already broken up. Apple didn't exist yet, Jobs wasn't one of the richest men in the world. When she was born - in a field in Oregon - Jobs refused to claim her as his own. From the beginning, he distanced himself from his daughter. He also, inexplicably, named a computer after her. Over the years, he came to slowly accept her into his life; yet, he continued to deny his paternity publicly, even in Time magazine. Lisa grew up nearby with her mom, who was a struggling single woman who volleyed between caring for her daughter and blaming her for a wasted life.
Like many children of divorce, Lisa was desperate for attention from the parent who wanted least to do with her (pardon my own daddy issues for a second.) He was at times loving and caring and other times, horribly inappropriate and demanding. You find yourself rooting for the best, then watching in shock as he turns his back at the worst possible time.
This book ebbs and flows with a young woman's life, with no big twists and turns. Still, the story of this odd family dynamic is incredibly compelling. Of all the things you've read and heard about Jobs over the years, his daughter's story sheds probably the most light on what really made him tick.
I described this book in a way I've never described another novel.
It was lovely.
Does that make me sound like an old British lady? Maybe. But, it's fitting for this story of a man traveling the world to outrun the problems in his life. It's sweet, funny, touching and thoroughly enjoyable. And, it won a damn Pulitzer Prize.
Less is actually Arthur Less, a mediocre novelist about to turn 50 who was also just invited to his ex-boyfriend's wedding. He needs to escape. So, he combines a bunch of random adventures into a trip around the world, all the while thinking about all he's left behind back home.
"I am fear of the old. I am fear of the lonely."
That line, in Arthur's badly translated German, sums up the crisis in which Less is knee-deep. He feels his best years are behind him. He knows he screwed up a chance at lasting love. Yet, through his trips to Mexico, Germany, India and Morocco, Less gets what he didn't know he's been searching for: perspective.
This book is funny in a very sweet way. I found myself initially annoyed with Less and the way he feels so sorry for himself. But, his adventurous misadventures only endear you to him. By the end, you're desperate for Less to find happiness - or at least for him to realize that it's been all around him all along.
It was a surprisingly quick read and a thoughtful tale of youth and what happens when you finally realize what Billy Joel made clear in a song all those years ago. "The good ol' days weren't always good and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems."
I finished this book with a warm feeling and a smile, as Less makes it back home. He has a clear Dorothy Gale moment, after his epic trip abroad. "If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I'll look no further than my own backyard," Dorothy said. "Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with."
You know what you're getting when you pick up a book with Neil Gaiman's name on the cover. Expect the unexpected, expect incredible writing, expect supernatural.
I picked this up in the airport when I realized bringing two books on our Costa Rica vacation was not going to be enough. I've loved one Neil Gaiman book I've read (The Graveyard Book, review here) - and, I've really disliked another (I know I'm supposed to love Good Omens, but it was not for me.) Something about the plot of this book intrigued me, though. And, it turned out to be the perfect balance to the other books I read this week on the beach.
It's hard to explain this book, as it is with much of what Gaiman writes. It's about a man's memories of a mysterious event in childhood. He remembers it only when he heads home - to a childhood home that no longer exists. He finds himself driving down the road to an old house and an old woman, both of which brings him back to a memory he doesn't entirely trust. Was there really a monster who used him as a gateway to enter the world? Did she truly try to tear his family apart?
Most of the book is that memory, which is a supernatural fantasy ride from hell. Somehow, though, Gaiman's writing makes it feel so simply believable that you find yourself wrapped up in the fantasy right along with them.
This is a quick story, hard to describe but remarkably told. It's hard to say if I recommend it because you have to be in just the right mood to appreciate it. But, if you can suspend the disbelief, it's a fun, interesting ride.
It's April. And, I think I just read my favorite book of 2019.
I already know it's my favorite book so far this year - and, it's not even close. But, I can't imagine loving a book more this year than I loved this one. I hesitate to even say too much because I feel like I'll ruin the surprise. I don't, however, worry that I'll oversell it. This book is one of those that crawls inside you and you don't forget it. I already wish I could read it again for the first time.
That's the quote that set me on fire. It's about 10 percent of the way in and it makes you feel like you know everything you need to know about Daisy Jones. An enigmatic rock star of the 1970's, Daisy Jones is a little bit of Stevie, a little bit of Janis, a little bit of Joni... She's the kind of rock chick that draws everyone to her - and, she refuses to be put in a box. But, what happens to Daisy and her bandmates in the other 90 percent of this book will light you up - and, break your heart.
This book is told as if the band is giving an oral history, decades after recording an iconic album. It's told through a series of "interviews" with every member of the band, focusing mostly on Daisy and front man Billy Dunne. How did they come together? What made them so incredible together? And, what ultimately tore them apart? It's all laid out as if it was one giant Rolling Stone article. The band recalls their quick rise and unexpected fall through old through song lyrics and wild nights on tour and, ultimately, love stories. I found myself swallowed up in this world, feeling so deeply for every character. Think of the best episode of Behind the Music you ever saw (the one about TLC, duh...) and, then imagine someone wrote it in a book. That's this book for me.
It's a story about a band, the 70s, family, love... It's about the heartbreak of breaking down every wall and showing them who you really are - only to find out they won't love you in the end. It's also about the power of music. And, connection.
What ultimately broke up Daisy Jones & the Six? You find out in this book. You find yourself knowing that it's going to happen, but wishing it will never end. Not only the band, but the book itself. I'm gushing, I realize. But, it's that freaking good.
I know Reese Witherspoon has the rights and that Amazon is going to make a series out of it. That's cool. I won't watch. For me, Daisy and Billy and the songs in this book already live in my head. I can't imagine the story being told better than it is in print.
Sometimes when you read a book on vacation, it artificially inflates the quality. Truth be told, I read this book on a beach in Costa Rica. But, you could read it in a cave and the story would resonate just as powerfully. There's something about the way Taylor Jenkins Reid brings her characters and stories to life. Her book Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo was one of my favorites of 2017 - and, one of my favorite books ever. Whether you have a beach or a bed or a bus... just read it. And, let Daisy and the band come to life.
I was legitimately concerned about reading Parkland on vacation; a book about a mass shooting and the aftermath isn't exactly a "beach read". I knew, however, that I didn't want to wait to read Dave Cullen's book about the kids who formed the March For Our Lives movement in the wake of the shooting at their high school. His book Columbine shook me to my core (you can read my review here). I knew if he had his hands on this, it would be powerful and important. I wasn't wrong. But, while this book was similar in origin to Columbine, it wasn't the same by any stretch. This book, as Cullen says, is about hope.
Columbine was about what led up to that shooting all those years ago. It was about the signs missed before and the false narrative that formed after. I was bracing myself throughout that entire read, everything was leading up to that fateful day. Columbine was, in large part, about the shooters.
Parkland, however, starts after the shooting - and never once calls the shooter by his name. We don't get into his background, we don't talk about warning signs or missed opportunities to stop him before he commits this horrific act of violence. This is a book about the students who refused to accept our "thoughts and prayers." It's about the confluence of events that led to a political movement. You may have seen these kids on TV, seen them attacked on Twitter, but you probably did not know a thing about what was happening behind the scenes. They were called puppets of the Democrats. People said they were being used as political pawns. So many people refused to believe that kids could be this savvy, this smart, this driven for change. Dave Cullen was there to see the machine at work and his book shows what these kids did on their own to try and make sure what happened at their high school would not happen again.
I will never forget what I was doing when I heard Emma Gonzalez give that speech. I was driving and I was crying so hard, I had to pull over. This was rage. This was anger. This was a young girl whose life was just upended, being brave enough to call B.S. on the whole damn thing. Imagine being 17 and having that much courage. Imagine.
For most of us, all we saw were the soundbites on the news. We didn't know the half of it. We didn't know these were kids still trying to be kids while, at the same time, becoming poster children and political lightning rods. We didn't know how they forbid adults from coming to their meetings. We didn't know that they brought in kids from Chicago who were dealing with gun violence in their own communities because, really, their cause was the same. We didn't know that many of them sacrificed grades and extra-curricular activities because this moment in the political spotlight would not come again. They saw victory in the mid-term elections that followed the shooting. For the first time ever, gun safety groups outspent the NRA. But, they tasted defeat, too. And, many - all? - are still dealing with grief and trauma.
This booked moved me to tears. For the dead, of course. But, also to see all these kids fought for, knowing that real change could be decades away. This generation grew up after Columbine. Lockdown drills have been part of their life since kindergarten. They're tired of hiding in closets - and, of waiting for adults to fix this. They inspired me before. They moved me now.
