Race Against Time

 

What a book. Wow.

In an era where people cry "fake news" and disparage the media at every turn, this book made my journalist heart so proud and happy. It made me angry, too, but we'll get to that.

I'm not sure how this book flew under the radar for me. Jerry Mitchell is a longtime newspaper reporter in Mississippi whose work helped bring to justice several people who committed horrific civil rights crimes in the 1960's. From the Mississippi Burning case to the Birmingham church bombing, these were crimes we've heard about, but I had no idea people had not been properly prosecuted for the crimes.

Mitchell details each of these crimes and his work to bring these killers and KKK members to justice. It's journalism, non-fiction, but it reads like a thriller.

As someone who grew up in the mostly-white northwest, it is incomprehensible to me the disgusting crimes that went on in this part of our country in the very recent past. It's even more abhorrent how many people in power either turned a blind eye or, in some cases, were part of the murderous mobs themselves.

I don't know what it was about Jerry Mitchell that had these klansmen singing like canaries, but how incredibly satisifying.

If you're a fan of good journalism, this is a must read. I'm so glad I ended my year with this book.

The Unraveling of Cassidy Holmes

 

I'm sure people have written that this book is in the style of Daisy Jones and the Six.

Well.

I see it.

But, may I just say: 

This is no Daisy Jones and the Six.

If you haven't read that book, one of my favorites of last year and of all time, go ahead and stop what you're doing and read it.

Go ahead.

You're done now? Cool. Wasn't it amazing???

Okay, back to this one.

This book starts with the death of a pop star. Years after their prime, the 90s girl group Gloss finds out that one of its estranged members - the one whose abrupt departure broke up the group without explanation - has died. The rest of the book bounces back and forth between timelines. Between the height of their super stardom to life "over the hill" in their 30s (GASP!), the book tries to unravel the unraveling of the singer known as Sassy Cassy. 

There's some American Idol here. Some Spice Girls. Some MTV. Some TRL? Some #MeToo. It's a lot. And, yet, somehow, it's not nearly enough.

I found myself wondering: Is this YA or just really not well written? 

I finished it because I wanted to see how we got there. All I was left with was a desire to read Daisy Jones all over again. 

The Promised Land

What am I going to write about this book that hasn't been explored in a million think pieces since the beginning of December? Probably nothing, honestly. Still, I'm happy to share my thoughts on what is the first in a series of books by our former president that - intentionally or otherwise - live in stark contrast to the presidency that is currently ending.

A couple superficial notes...

First, this book is long. 768 pages long. 

This book is also dense. 

We know this about Barack Obama - and, he acknowledges it in this book - that he often uses 359 words when he could use 59. That didn't bother me, but it is worth pointing out. 

In many ways, it's also like a text book. While you're reading about a man entering politics and experiencing life in the Senate, then the White House, you're also getting history lessons on racial unrest, Chicago politics, the Middle East, etc. It's an important read and fascinating to hear the back stories behind the decisions he made. But, it's also not a relaxing read, so to speak. Like I said, it's dense.

We know so much about every president now, so much of is detailed here is not a surprise. Still, as he chronicles his life from childhood up until the raid that killed Osama Bin Laden, I was struck how often he faced doubt. Maybe it's more in retrospect, but he certainly was not certain of every decision he made. What a contrast, if you look at the presidency we're winding down now. There is confidence here, for sure, but self-realization is a common theme throughout this book and a theme that struck me throughout.

I loved hearing about the pickup basketball games during the first presidential campaign. I loved the awe in which he approached the White House. I found myself skimming past some of the historical lessons to get to the more personal stuff. 

I realized part way through that I had heard much of it in Michelle Obama's book Becoming, which I read at the start of 2019. It was fascinating to read the experiences from both sides of the story. I found Becoming to be more personal, this book more historical and both equally valuable in understanding the Obamas' legacy.

 

The Night Watchman

 

In my role as a TV news manager, I have a "soft" rule: a story can be as long as it needs to be, as long as it holds attention. A long story - a long book - doesn't scare me. But, it has to hold up. This well-told book nearly did. Nearly. 

But not quite.

The plot is worthy, as are the characters. It's based on a 1950's attempt by the government to eliminate a reservation. Didn't learn about that in your American history classes? Yeah, me neither. (My high school history classes consisted of the school's basketball coaches showing us the entire mini-series of Roots and Lonesome Dove so he could work on plays during that time, but that's a story for another day.)

I digress.

The Night Watchman tells this story through the characters who tried to stop it and others on the reservation forced to give up - and, give in - to the whims of society around them. 

It's an important read. A spiritual one, in fact. And rich with characters who tell the story not through stereotypes, but through honest narrative.

It just took too long to get there.

It sounds so lazy now that I write it down. But, there were times at nearly every phase of this book that I nearly gave up. Then, something would drag me back in. The reward was nearly there, the characters nearly complete. I can imagine, though, giving this a 4 our 5-star review had it only been more carefully crafted to 250 or 300 pages instead of 464.

More Myself

 

I'm not here to compare two very different, very powerful, very strong women whose music I happened to love.

Maybe I am.

Either way. 

I recently read Mariah Carey's book and it just left me feeling meh. Then, I read this and I felt... empowered, enlightened, moved.

Alicia Keys is a powerful force in the music industry and this book is absolutely a reflection of that. She's also a strong wife and mother who is very much trying to define her place in the world. The best parts of this book were the ones that explored those things.

If you've followed her career at all, you know that Alicia Keys has stepped out strongly for what she believes is right and has taken some serious chances in defining who she wants to be as an artists. You feel her journey here. While Carey's book often blames others for mistakes and missteps, Keys owns all of it herself. She speaks with honesty and transparency about early attempts to turn her into a "sexy pop star." She speaks with that same honesty about the spiritual journeys she now takes and the literal trip in silence down the Nile that changed everything.

You learn a lot about Keys' upbringing and her musical journey in this book, but you also learn that it many ways, she's figuring it all out just like the rest of us. I was moved by her honesty and her strength.

And I was compelled to watch this performance on repeat, which is a fantastic way to end a good read. 

The Midnight Library

 

This book deserves a blanket, a fireplace and a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Okay, that last part got weird. But, this is how I enjoyed most of it: on my couch, snuggled in tight, full of (really good) mashed potatoes over the Thanksgiving weekend. It just feels like you should read this book in a cozy place, where you can properly contemplate the choices you've made in your life.

It's literally a book about choices. Nora Seed wants to die and, early on in this book, she tries to end her own life. But, instead of it being 'over' she ends up in a magical library, curated by a woman who showed her kindness at a difficult time in her life. That woman, her former teacher, explains to her that she's essentially in something like purgatory. She's not gone from the world just yet. Instead, she has a chance to open some of the endless books in this library and see how her life would have been different if she made other choices. What would life be like if she married that man/moved to the country/stayed in that band/followed her passion? How would her life be different? Would she truly ever be able to find happiness?

You've heard this story before. In A Christmas Carol, It's a Wonderful Life, Sliding Doors, countless others. What makes this fresh is Nora. Her true sadness in the beginning, her loneliness, is heartbreaking. And even as she glimpses these other lives, you wonder what - if anything - would ever truly bring her happiness.

This novel doesn't break any ground, but it's a satisfying reminder of how we should examine our own lives and not always believe the choices we didn't make are the better ones. There are profound reminders here to live in the moment and value what's here rather than wishing it all away for the unknown. 

It feels especially important in the midst of a tough year and a pandemic to remember what we have and value the choices we did make. As for me, I'm choosing to warm up the rest of those mashed potatoes.

A Star is Bored

 

The book is called A Star is Bored. Well, my friends, so was this reader.

It had potential. It was written up as one of the most anticipated books of the fall, in fact. I first heard about the book because one of my co-workers used to work with the author. Turns out, he went from being a TV news writer in L.A. to working as Carrie Fisher's personal assistant! Fascinating fodder for a book, for sure. And, while he says the book isn't actually based on anyone... the main character is a TV news writer who leaves the grind of working the overnight shift to work for an aging actress who once played an uber-popular princess in a sci-fi movie from his childhood.

SURE it's not based on real-life...

Anyway, I was excited to read something quick and uplifting and kind of mindless. I wasn't expecting Tolstoy here. But, what started out as funny and interesting and quirky become tedious about 150 pages in. It would have been better as a magazine article or a short story or maybe just some funny cocktail party stories.

The main character is a bit lost and broken, as is the actress he works for. They have adventures, they take care of each other in their own way, he grows, etc. It's fine. Whatever, it's fine. It just never picked up the pace or really led me anywhere I couldn't go myself.

I'm not saying Lane should go back to overnight news writing (he won't need to, this book is a success.) But, if you're looking for a fun journey, you may be better off with US Weekly or reruns of The Hills.

Dept of Speculation

 

I'm late in writing this review, but I'm glad I waited. This slim, compact, powerful book that I read in a single day has been a slow burn. I liked it when I was reading it and when it was done. I see now the impact it had below the surface.

We never know the names of the characters, yet we share their most intimate moments. We see inside them and find ourselves. We see how quickly life moves from infatuation to marriage to dreams to heartbreak to ruin and back, sometimes, to happiness.

We see them fall in love, slowly at first, then to the fruition of marriage. Their story is relatable in its big moments, but more so in the small ones. The quiet reflections on what it means to be a wife and, ultimately, a mother. We see from her perspective as he cheats; we watch her recommit to the life they were trying to build, albeit with much different (more realistic?) expectations.

For me, the most powerful reflections were those on motherhood. What do we give up when we become "someone's mom"? What do we tolerate because of who else is depending on us now. The line below struck me deep in my chest and lives there now. 

This book is a quick read; like I said, I read it in a single day and probably could have read it straight through in a couple of hours. But, don't take that to mean it is simple. It's complex and profound and real. 

The Meaning of Mariah Carey

 

Look, it's her book. It's her story. It's her life. But, as I read through Mariah Carey's autobiography, I kept coming back to one thought:

This is an unreliable narrator.

I'm a 90's girl at heart, so I love me some Mariah. Always Be My Baby should just become our national anthem. I didn't expect to read some great book of prose, but I am fascinated at how someone grows up to be someone like Mariah.

I think of her episode of Cribs, which is one the greatest ever. If you're not familiar, look it up. Several costume changes, she went on the Stairmaster in stilettos, she took a bath! Any woman who lives like that deserves to have her story told.

But, it doesn't mean you'll want to read it.

There's a lot here that's interesting, don't get me wrong. Mariah's childhood and family were a tragic mess. Her marriage to Tommy Mottola was even worse than you could imagine. And that brief romance with Derek Jeter was all my 90s dreams come true. But, the story is told in a haphazard way in which Mariah is responsible for nothing. Even Glitter was Tommy's fault. And she believes in her heart it was a missed opportunity at a star turn. (She was before her time, you guys.)

Look, she's a self-proclaimed famous diva and her storytelling reflects that. I just wish it could have been better told. The timelines were wonky and some of it was hard to follow. She could have spent more time describing her songwriting and collaboration process than recounting every fight she ever had with her mom.

If you're a Mariah fan like I am, do yourself a favor and just listen to her music instead. 

Better yet, enjoy this Mariah/ODB gem. 

The Cold Millions

 

There have been a lot of crappy things about 2020. 

I know what you're thinking: Thanks, Captain Obvious.

But, in this crappiest of crap years, I am warmed by one thing: a new favorite book by my favorite author that was better than I could have ever imagined.

This is my favorite book of Jess Walter's and my favorite book of this year. It's not just because it's set in the town in which I live, but that helps. Now, my drives to work take longer because I have to stop at all the sites in the book along the way.

That, for example, is the old Carnegie Library at the west end of downtown Spokane. It's not a library anymore, but it was in 1909 when this book was set. One of the characters, a lost teenager named Rye, finds solace here and access to worlds he'd otherwise never know.

The Cold Millions, like Jess's other books, is rich with character and writing and place. Spokane is a major character here, but not the city like we know it now. At this time in history, Spokane was buzzing. It was doubling in size every five years, criss-crossed by railroad tracks that carried people from all over the country. It was a town filled with laborers and performers, the rich and the poor. It was a postcard from this time in history (which Jess found at one of my favorite local shops) that inspired him to capture what life must have been like in our city back then.

Gig and Rye are brothers looking for work wherever they can find it. Living on a sleeping porch in Spokane's Little Italy, they find themselves swept up in the union movement of the day. It leads to conflict and imprisonment and the harsh reality that feels just as present today: the world is controlled by the rich and powerful living on a hill, not by the cold millions doing the real work in the valleys below. 

It's a story about the west, inequity, free speech, women's rights... so much of it rings true today. Jess could never have known when he started this book how relevant it would be at this moment, but when I drive down Stevens Street every day on my way home, I can almost feel the energy of the country's first free speech demonstrations which happened on those very corners. In as many ways as Spokane is different now, so many of the themes are the same.

That has a Christine Blasey Ford ring, doesn't it? Some things never change.

There are real Spokanites in this book. There are fictional characters, too. There are real places and real events and even my favorite old west town of Taft, Montana, once dubbed the Wickedest City in America. There is strength and power and despair and love and just perfection. There is ache and memory; the entire epilogue, I felt like someone was squeezing my chest. When I closed the book, I burst into tears. 

There are lines in this book that stopped me cold. "Spokane gave me the morbs," says one man who is called to the Lilac City to do a rich man's dirty work. There are gems like this buried through out, dropped like gold coins by one of the greatest American writers who happens to be a guy that lives not far from where I'm writing this. 

The best books make us change the way we see the world. This one changed the way I see the city in which I live. 

I can't imagine a more perfect book. It almost redeems 2020. Almost. 

Long Bright River

 

To call this book a "crime novel" would be shortchanging the story at its heart.

While it begins with a murder victim being found dead, the real story is one of family, poverty, addiction and the opioid crisis tearing apart so many families.

Kacey and Mickey are sisters who grow up in a tough part of Philadelphia. Early on, they lose their mother to an overdose and are raised by their grandmother, who is both grieving and resentful. Kacey follows her mother's unfortunate path to addiction, while Mickey becomes a cop who patrols the streets near where they grew up.

Mickey constantly worries about Kacey and has even had to bring her in from time to time. When women start showing up dead in the neighborhood, she makes her mission to find her sister, no matter the cost.

That would be an interesting story on its own. But, Moore layers in the complicated dynamics of family. The relationship between sisters is most obvious, but it's also about the relationship between Mickey and her grandmother and the rest of their family. It's also a relationship between mother and son, as Mickey tries desperately to give her son the stability she never had.

The book can be dark and a little depressing, but it has so much heart and honesty. There are enough twists and turns to keep the murder story interesting, while also exposing the even more frightening reality facing so many American families.

Why We Can't Sleep

 

-One doctor is quoted as saying "What happens to you in your forties, as a woman, will determine how long you live, will determine how happy you are for the next forty years."

That's a hell of a wakeup call who were born before the Thriller album but after disco. Or at least in the waning age of disco. It's just one of the realizations laid out in this book which I didn't know how badly I needed to read.

First of all, it feels weird to describe this stage of my life as "mid-life." Once I got past that, this book felt like visiting a therapist. It specifically describes this phase of life for those of us defined as "Generation X." The author describes some things women have felt for generation at this point in their lives, but also explains the unique challenges brought by the time in which we were born.

We're a generation that was born without the internet, but who use it with ease now. We watched the Challenger explode as cross-legged elementary school kids. We are the daughters of women who went back to work and were expected to "have it all" - and, we're now spending more time with our kids than our moms ever did, while also working full-time.

It felt like venting to a friend and having the friend share the same feelings right back, which would be great to do with actual friends if we weren't all so damn busy.

There was a line in this book that I should have written down, but that is seared in my memory. It was, essentially, how the world stops looking at women in their 40s. We're not desirable to men younger than us or men older than us. We're seen as moms and co-workers, not complicated or interesting sexual beings. We can resist or we can acquiesce; either way, the ship called Prime of Our Lives has most certainly sailed.

There is so much to worry about, so much to carry. But, this book reminded me that what I'm feeling has meaning and purpose and why. If you're of the age that you remember when Britney was on the Mickey Mouse Club and Shannen Doherty was everywhere, this book might be just what you need.

Let Love Rule

 

You know that thing from Friends where Chandler and Janice have the "freebie list" of their celebrity free passes? Lenny is my #1. You remember that show Behind the Music? Lenny's changed my perspective on the man and his music AND introduced me to my all-time favorite love story (Lenny and Lisa Bonet.) And, I think his album Mama Said is one of the top 5 best road trip albums.

Of course I was going to love his book.

I'm going to go against APStyle here and call him Lenny here, because we're on a first-name basis. He's my #1, as you know.

The moment I could, I pre-ordered Lenny's memoir. Then, I had to spend the last few weeks ignoring every interview he's done as not to give anything away. While some of his early life was depicted in tat Behind the Music special, this book focuses entirely on it. It's his life leading up to the release of Let Love Rule, the album that launched him into stardom. But, you realize when you learn about his life, Lenny was surrounded by stardom from the beginning.

His parents were well-connected even before his mom got her role on The Jeffersons. Lenny talks about going to Manhattan clubs as a kid and seeing jazz legends play up close. He lived across the street from Joe Namath. His first concert was The Jackson 5 at Madison Square Garden. Still, it was decades before he would find his voice, his muse and his style. 

The book details a move to California, struggles with his dad, his musical connections with people like Barry Gordy's son. He talks about the moment he simultaneously discovered marijuana and Led Zepplin. You learn that he predicted his marriage to Lisa Bonet before they ever met. And, when they did finally meet (at a New Edition concert, people), their now-legendary love story began as a friendship instead.

I loved hearing these stories in Lenny's voice. He was from a mixed-race family in the 70's, grew up loving fashion and music way outside of his family's comfort zone. He found faith before he found Denise Huxtable. Most of all, he loved his mom. 

I'm not kidding you, my main parenting goal is for my two sons to love me even a fraction of how much Lenny loved his mom. 

(Let's take a moment and appreciate that. Just watch.) 

I love Lenny and loved these stories. Now, I want more. Now, I want life after Let Love Rule. 

Hollow Kingdom

 

One review described this book as a cross between The Secret Life of Pets and The Walking Dead. I can't imagine a better way.

As someone with a lifelong distrust of birds, I was skeptical about reading a book narrated by a domesticated crow. I don't think I would have even gotten past the cover without a personalized recommendation from my favorite local, independent bookstore. But, when the good folks at Auntie's suggest a title, who am I to question it?

Our hero in the book is that crow, named S.T. It's short for Shit Turd, because what else would a white trash dude call the crow that becomes his pet? Anyway, S.T. tells the story in real-time of what's happening in Seattle during a zombie apocalypse. He watches his "owner" Big Jim acting strangely, and when he ventures out to pick up some medicine at the nearby drug store, he realizes all of the humans (or MoFos, as he calls them) are out of their minds. He knows its most dire when he flies home and sees the sweet old lady next door eating Triscuits. Triscuits, we soon learn, is the name of her dog.

S.T.'s exploration paint a fascinating picture of what might happen if the humans of Seattle are dead, insane, imprisoned, overrun. His journey to find the animals who know better takes us to Century Link field, to the Amtrak station and throughout Pike Place Market. In those common Seattle sights, we find packs of wild dogs and zoo animals that have been set free. And, we find that the ping of a cell phone makes the zombies lose control.

I loved the concept of this book. I LOVED S.T. I loved the way the narrator described how the animals might see the world (calling the zoo a "creature quilt", for example, because imagine what a zoo looks like from the air.) The story itself started to lose interest for me about 65% of the way through, though. We were traveling to find info and to rescue the other domesticated animals and I found myself impatient to reach the destination. When we finally did, I thought it was sweet and, somehow, hopeful. I just needed a little more meat to get me there (or maybe some more Cheetos - S.T's favorite.)

It's a book like none I've ever read and really did keep me mostly entertained. If you live in Seattle, especially, it's worth your time.

Furious Hours

 

From what I've encountered so far when I tell people my opinions about this book, I can warn you now: this is a hot take.

It just tried to do too much. 

It took too long to read.

It didn't hold me. At least not the way it was structured.

I'll back up and explain what it's about, because it's fantastic.

In the 1970's, famed author Harper Lee returned to her home state of Alabama, determined to write a true crime account of a series of murders that captivated the region. She hadn't put out a book since To Kill a Mockingbird and, by all accounts, was tortured by the very process of writing. She spent countless hours sitting in trial, researching, interviewing, writing... But the book was never released and no one knows how far she got if she tried.

The murder case itself is fascinating. It's multiple murders, in fact. An Alabama preacher was implicated in the deaths of five people close to him: his first wife, his brother, his neighbor (whose wife he later married), his nephew and his step-daughter. All of the deaths were suspicious, many were under similar circumstances and all of them had a life insurance link back to William Maxwell. The town was scared and one man was so fed up, he shot Maxwell at point blank range in the church after Maxwell's stepdaughter's funeral. Hundreds saw it happened, yet the man who did it was acquitted.

The first part of this book is an incredibly detailed account of Maxwell's life and crimes. Dare I say, too detailed. There are so many people to track, so many extraneous details and nary a mention of Ms. Lee. On its own, it would have been a hell of a book.

Then, we move into Lee's connection. Well, first, we go into her background. I had no idea she grew up next door to Truman Capote and that she was along with him when he was researching In Cold Blood. That part, and the background of the release of To Kill a Mockingbird, was fascinating, too. But, it was also dragged down by more extraneous details that did not advance the plot or characters.

Finally, we get to the final years of Lee's life and writing career. As is widely known, she became a recluse and never wrote again. Yes, Go Set a Watchman was released, but the back story on that thing is another book altogether. In fact, this book reveals that it was the book she wrote before Mockingbird and that it was shopped around, yet never released. This book gets into the demons Lee was fighting and everything her family and agents tried to do to help before her death in 2016. To me, it was the most compelling part of Furious Hours.

This book exists in three sections and would have been better off as three books. I admire the research and detail, but an author also needs to know what to leave out. I felt myself initially captivated, but almost quit multiple times before ultimately finishing it, unsatisfied.

Women Talking

 

The weight of this book is instant. What it means is a slow burn. I finished this book a couple of weeks ago and can't get it out of my mind. The plight of these women and they way in which they reacted to it reflect society's views on abuse and gender so deeply, its message is now imprinted in my heart.

The premise of Women Talking is horrific. Women of a Mennonite colony in Bolivia were repeatedly attacked and sexually assaulted in their sleep. The men of their colony knocked them out with a cow anesthestic, assaulted them, then made them believe it was demons coming to them in their sleep. 

This story takes up what might have happened next. It's set up as a man who once left the colony and returned is taking notes on meetings the women were having about what to do next. The men who inflicted this pain on them have been arrested (though, it's explained, it was for their protection, not the women's). The women have a small window on their own to decide what to do next. Do the run away and leave the only home they've ever known? These women don't speak a language spoken by anyone else outside of their religion. They have no money, no map, no idea about the outside world. Do they stay and risk further attack? If they do leave, what about the men and boys they leave behind?

That last question is the moral dilemma faced by so many women who are abused. No one is denying these women are victims. So, why should they struggle with the guilt of what happens to everyone else? Why is the burden theirs to carry?

The book describes life in a colony like this, of course, but it's such a lesson about our world as well. The more removed I am, the more I think of that weight and the centuries that got us to this place.

This book is a hard read. Not because of the prose, but because of the message. But, it's equal parts beautifully done and important.

Anxious People

 

Damn you, Backman.

You've done it again.

You made me think for a second this book wouldn't be as good as all the others. You gave so much humor at first, I thought this one might lack the sweet soul I've come to expect. Then, you started to hint. You started to hint that this book would shatter me like all the others. By the time I reached page 328, I was in full-on tears. Sobbing my eyeliner away when I was supposed to be heading into work. Then, you snuck that last little hug it at the end that we've come to expect, yet somehow never see coming.

You wrote another masterpiece.

If you're new to this blog (hi!), you haven't experiencing my deep and abiding love for this Swedish author. His books are among my favorites and he's cemented himself as my favorite author. I'll drop some links to my other faves at the end of this post, but for now, we're going to talk about this wonderful novel.

It's about a bank robbery. No, a hostage situation. A terrible one, but a hostage situation nonetheless. But, like all good books, it's not about that obvious plot at all. Here, Backman acknowledges that all along. He flat-out tells you that this book is not about bank robberies or hostages or even idiots (though he's written in a few of those.) When it comes down to it, it's about families and connection and love and strength and depression and suicide and the power of four simple words: it's not your fault. It's about forgiving the people we love - and forgiving ourselves. And, it's about what we lose when we close ourselves off to others. 

Our characters here are brought together unexpectedly when they're looking at an apartment to buy and a would-be bank robber walks in. The hostage scene in which they're thrust brings out the best and worst of all of them. I don't want to say more because the journey is the best part of all of this. How you go from laughing out loud (truly, I LOLd a bunch...) to quietly weeping to full-on sobbing is what makes this book - and, all of his books - so special.

That's the quote that put me over the edge. I promise if you read this book, this will be your reward. 

The only unfortunate thing about finishing this book is that it's over. It's perfect.

As promised, my other favorite Backman books: 

My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry

Beartown

Us Against You

A Monster Calls

 

I should have known that picking a book off a list of "Books That Will Make You Cry" might make me cry.

Two pages in, I worried I was in trouble.

When I reached the final chapters, I had to finish reading it in the bath. It was the next best thing to a warm hug, which is what I needed most.

Ugh, this book.

Connor O'Malley is being visited by a monster each night. It's actually a yew tree outside his window that transforms into  a monster. And, while it scares him at first, it begins to tell him stories. Just when Connor is sure it's a dream, he wakes up with sticks and leaves in his locked room.

In his waking life, Connor is dealing with a more obvious monster: the cancer that is killing his mother. His dad has moved away to America, his grandmother is too blinded by her own grief to see Connor's. Even the kids and teachers at school steer clear, refusing even to discipline him because of all he's going through at home.

He aches to be seen. Yet, the only one who appears to notice him is the monster. The monster promises to help him understand a lesson, realize a truth. No matter how much Connor is trying to run away, the monster keeps calling.

I love the rhythm with which this book is written. I want to scoop Connor in my arms and protect him forever. I ache for his mother who can do so little to protect her son from the wave of grief.

It's a quick read, but by no means an easy one. I'll never forget it. 

Dear Edward

 

Oh, Edward. I think I'll think about you forever.

I'll think about this book, too, which is one of my favorites I've read this year.

Edward is 12 years old when he's the lone survivor of a commercial plane crash that kills his entire family and 180-some other people on board. He's Eddie when the plane takes off from New York to California, actually. He becomes Edward when he wakes up in the wreckage in a field in California.

This book follows two timelines.One is the flight that we already know is going to crash. As those chapters march on, we watch through fingertips as we learn about the passengers on board. The other timeline is Edward's life as he tries to move on. He's living with his aunt and uncle and quickly befriends the girl who lives next door. You root for Edward earnestly; he's a worldwide phenomenon, a 'miracle' - who is just trying to be a kid at the same time.

This is kind of a spoiler, but it's what makes the book so special to me. So, if you're already sold, go read it and skip this next part. 

A couple of years into his post-crash life, Edward finds locked bags in his uncle's garage that are filled with letters addressed to him. They're from the family members of the people killed in the crash. They're imploring him to go live a big life, to fulfill the crash victims' dreams. Imagine the weight. For most, it would be crushing. For Edward, it brings purpose. A chance to release the survivor's guilt that darkens his days.

I love this book. I love the characters, I love the way those characters are built. I love Edward. I think you will, too.

Sea Wife

 

"Did my mistake begin with the boat or the marriage itself?"

And that's the quote that sums it up, this book about adventure and secrets and marriage. 

A run of the mill marriage takes a turn when the family decides to spend a year at sea. Well, he decides. The wife sort of just goes along. Who could blame her for the trepidation? They have two young children, past trauma, a somewhat rudimentary a of what they're getting themselves into and a whole lot of marital baggage to carry onboard. 

Still, off they go. And, as a reader, you learn pretty quickly not all of them are coming home. 

Half of this book is told through the wife's perspective, the other half through the Captain's Log kept by her husband. Like so many marriages/relationships/encounters, it's two angles of the same story that may differ, but somehow come together to form the truth.

There is grief here. Regret. Maybe a little hope. All in all, comes to a satisfying end.

Relentless Pursuit

 

I didn't watch the Jeffrey Epstein doc on Netflix. The world is dark and heavy enough right now as it is, and I just didn't feel like bringing more horror into my life. Yet, last week, I decided to pick up a nearly 400-page book detailing the legal pursuit of this monster. What I found was horror about the crimes, of course, but incredible detail of the frustrating legal process as well.

If you've been around this blog awhile, you know I'm persuaded to read books by the Dax Shepard Armchair Expert podcast. I've read books I wouldn't have otherwise chosen because I've heard the authors as guests. When I heard attorney Bradley Edwards on a couple of weeks ago, I immediately paused the pod and put this book on my library 'holds' list. His energy was incredible and I was so impressed with the diligence with which he pursued this case. His book picked up that energy and you could feel the passion until the very end.

I don't need to fill you in on the horrific crimes Epstein committed. But, I didn't know where it all started. Our public knowledge of the case would likely not have come to light if a young woman hadn't walked into Edwards' office with a story to tell. 

That young woman's story not only revealed the abuse she and others suffered in Epstein's web, but also the legal bullshit that protected him and his accomplices for so long. I found myself enraged at the fact that so many people who are paid by taxpayers to protect us and be transparent actually hid this monster behind legal paperwork and non-prosecution agreements. It is because of the bravery and strength of those women - and, Edwards' stamina - that we ended up knowing as much as we do. 

This book gets tedious at times as Edwards relates every little twist and turn they took to get through the legal labyrinth that threatened to shut them down at every turn. Every time it starts to feel that way, though, it takes off again. It's worth it to read who cooperated and who didn't and about the strange relationship Edwards developed with Epstein, even as the two were at war.

The Only Good Indians

 

It's a strange revelation when you start reading a book you know almost nothing about and find it's set in the town in which you grow up.

There it was in chapter one: Great Falls, Montana. 

This book didn't sit for long in my old hometown, but that's where things got DARK. Like, really dark. If gruesome depictions of murder aren't your thing, I'd suggest you skip past this one. I think of myself as having a pretty strong tolerance for that kind of thing (I've worked in TV news for 20 years, after all), but there were times I had to close this book and take a breath.

The book is about four guys who grow up together on the reservation in Montana. During a hunting trip 10 years before, something happens - they do something - that haunts them. I hesitate to share what, as it's a good bit of mystery that builds early on. As the anniversary nears, things start happening that set in motion a series of horrifying events. This book is a mix of fantasy, fear, Indian struggles and incredible loss. 

The writing is incredible (strangely, I found the afterword the most compelling writing in the book). I also think the story was captivating and certainly unlike anything I've ever read. But, the horror of it is real - just be warned.

Children's Bible

 

People smarter than me (the literary critics at the NY Times and Washington Post, specifically), called this book "masterful", a "potent allegory" and a "blistering classic."

I'm left thinking one simple and resounding thought: I didn't get it.

What I did pick up on was that the concept and writing were, in fact, masterful. A group of kids are staying in a mansion as a summer getaway with their spoiled and somewhat despondent parents. The kids are afterthoughts, left to fend largely for themselves. Then, a massive storm hits and chaos ensues. The kids know they're safer without their parents and leave them behind. Out in the world, they find an even more chaotic world than they one they left, complete with vigilantes, death, uncertainty and maybe even some sort of alien magic.  

There are other plot twists, too, about the end of the world due to climate change. There are religious undertones, too, and an attempt to reconcile an old Bible one child found with the science that is destroying the world around them. While the book at first appears to be careening towards apocalypse, I was also praying for the end.

It's very possible that I'm not smart enough to have seen the meaning behind this. Either way, it's not a book I would recommend. Maybe the guy from the Times can convince you otherwise.  

Pizza Girl

 

There's a quote out there about pizza and sex and how, even when they're not great, they're still pretty good. That really is neither her nor there, except that this book has pizza in the title and I didn't think it was good at all.

I read this book in one day, I should probably say. It's a fast read, it was interesting enough that way. But, when I finished - and, even when I read other reviews - I was like: I don't get it.

Our Pizza Girl is never named until the end of the book, but we become intimately familiar with the details of her life. 19 years old, working at a pizza joint in her home town, and pregnant. Her boyfriend is sweet and, due to an accident, an orphan. Our pizza girl is doted on and loved by him and by her mother, but is overwhelmed with the life inside her and what's to come. She befriends, then becomes obsessed with a woman to whom she delivers pizza one night. And while she pushes those who love her away, she finds herself trying to get closer to this woman.

Our pregnant teen also drinks. She does it to feel closer to the alcoholic father she lost. It's a tragic note to this story. It's something I couldn't get past or forgive and it's something that I don't feel our protagonist reckons with or really pays for. Add to that, the reviews I read say this book is funny and sweet. I just didn't see it. I felt really no emotion at all.

I guess the good thing is I didn't waste more than a day on it. But, the pizza and the girl left me with a big ol' feeling of meh.

Upstream

 

Give me a moment to indulge a "business" book. And my apologies to anyone who works with or near me after I've read it. I'm a little obsessed with the notion of thinking upstream. And, I have Dax Shepard to blame for it.

I'm a disciple of Dax's Armchair Expert podcast and I've read several books solely because of their author's appearance on his show. I read Accidental Presidents because of his book, along with City of Girls. The next book on my list also ended up there because of the podcast. I haven't been steered wrong yet.

Dan Heath's appearance formally introduced me to the concept behind what I've known for some time: we can either keep fixing the same problems over and over or we can go upstream and figure out what's leading to these issues in the first place.

It's such a simple concept, but one that most businesses and organizations don't take the time to see. The book shows examples of major companies and mid-size cities using the concept to solve everything from customer service issues to homelessness. 

I love the concept, but like most business books, had the gist down in the first few chapters. The rest was just supporting evidence. Still, I've already used the phrase "I'd like to go upstream on this..." in an email to our company's controller, so I guess you could say the concept is sinking in. They can blame Dax Shepard for that.

A Burning

HOLY. COW.

Go read this book.

I really could end this review there and you'd just have to trust me on it, but I'll give you your money's worth. You're paying to read these reviews, right?

Anyway.

This book is sneaky good. Like, it's good and you know it as soon as you start reading it. But, I finished it almost a week ago and it keeps seeping out of my pores. From the first pages, it takes off and never really lets up. When I finished, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. 

The Burning is so simply and plainly written, you almost don't realize you're reading a masterpiece. I believe the jacket description calls it "tidy." It's the story of a young woman's demise told through three central characters. Our main character, the woman in question, is a young woman in India who witnesses a train bombing. Through one seemingly innocuous action, she inserts herself into the case and seals her fate. She's arrested for the crime and becomes a national story. The other two characters are her former gym teacher and poor young woman to whom she was teaching English. The two of them quickly realize how their connection to this young girl helps them rise out of their own state and get closer than they ever imagined to their dreams. They soar, while she awaits charges in prison.

The way this book is written feels like a march forward. Simple sentences, short chapters, forward momentum. As a reader, you know you're going somewhere and you have your eyes half-covered as you keep marching in that direction. If I had an uninterrupted day, I could have read this in one sitting. It's a compelling and powerful look and power and poverty and how no one could ever suspect that some day, you could be their scapegoat.

Are you ready to read it now? 

 

The Vanishing Half

If you're like me, you read every list that comes out entitled "MUST-READ BOOKS!" It took me too long to realize those lists are largely influenced (and often generated) by publishers and people motivated to sell specific titles. But, I'm a sucker and I often choose my next reads based on those lists. This book - and, the next book I'm going to review - were on so many lists of the must-read books of 2020. And, you know what? Those lists were right.A Vanishing Half is about twin girls who run away from their small Louisiana town when they're 16 years old. The town itself doesn't show up on any map, but has evolved over the years to be home to very light-skinned Black people. A town so seemingly white, the people who live here look down on anyone with darker skin. The twins feel trapped, like so many teenagers do, and they leave town to head to New Orleans. What happens there defines each of their lives.The book begins as one of those twins, Desiree, returns to her hometown many years later. Child in tow, fleeing an abusive marriage, she finds herself back in her mother's house. They learn that no one has heard from Stella in years. She vanished off the streets of New Orleans. We learn as readers that she's passing as a white woman, living a life of luxury in California. No one - not her friends, not her husband, not her daughter - know her secret. It's a secret she feels will destroy everything.This book is about family, race, expectations, the lies we tell ourselves and the lies we tell to others. It's a beautiful read and deservedly on those must-read books, especially right now in America.

The New Jim Crow

In the wake of George Floyd's death, it seems every Instagram story was a list of books the rest of us need to read to understand the undercurrent that drove the calls for social justice. It seems The New Jim Crow was on every one one of those lists. It came up from the library just in time, though this is a heavy book that some may find even too heavy for this moment in history.

When I say "too heavy" I don't mean we should turn away. Not at all. Now's the exact time to be looking inward at ourselves and out at the institutions driving systemic racism in our country. But, if what you need in the age of COVID-related stress is a book that helps you escape, you may want to put this one on hold.

This book lays out like a text book the issues that have driven our country to a racially-uneven criminal justice system. Black men, in particular, are the victims of centuries of laws designed to keep them enslaved. The system of incarceration and probation locks minorities in an endless cycle that generations can not escape. From stop and frisk to the incentivized seizing of property in criminal cases, I don't believe any reasonable person could read this book and say, "Nah, what we have is good. Let's keep it this way."

This could easily be interpreted as me being anti-law enforcement. That couldn't be further from the truth. But, we give these systems incredible power - the power to take away lives and freedom - and, we absolutely should call them into question and hold them accountable.

What hits home the most is that the explosion in the prison population in this country has not driven down our crime rates. That mandatory sentences tie the hands of judges that should have some discretion in handing down punishments. Also, that while evidence shows White people use and sell drugs just as much as Black people, the Black people are the ones who are arrested and punished.

It got to the point in reading this book that I found myself skimming. It wasn't that the topics weren't interesting, it's just that the evidence was made so clear in the first chapters. I'd call this a must-read for those committed to bettering the systems that so largely define our country. But, be prepared that this isn't escapist reading - it also requires action.

Godshot

A young girl, being raised by a sinner single mom in a drought-stricken community where a religious zealot baptises the flock in cheap supermarket soda.

That's how Godshot gets started and it takes off like a rocket after that.

This is a book about what we'll give up in the most desperate times. 14-year old Lacey May lives in poverty with a mom who chooses freedom from her responsibilities, no matter the cost. When she's banished, she leaves Lacey May God-foresaken Peaches, California in the care of her grandmother and at the mercy of a man in shiny robes who promises to save them all.

The cult nearly swallows Lacey May, but the great joy of this novel is watching her figure it all out and choose to live on her own terms.

The men in Peaches have all the power, but are so easily exposed by girls like Lacey May.

Make no mistake, there is joy to be found in this book. But, there's triggering horror as well. Lacey May and the other girls are at the mercy of this God-fearing men who use that fear to exploit and exclude. There is redemption, though, in watching the "broken" women bring them down.

Lacey May is an unforgettable hero. Godshot is a hell of a read.

The Topeka School

The cover of this book hints that it might be more exciting than it actually is. Is it the tornado? The Best Books of the Year sticker? Maybe it's both. But, this book, while well-written and somewhat interesting, didn't make me feel like chasing a storm.

I just read a review that said this book was about white male rage. The tornado blew that completely over my head. It must have been subtle, though I kind of see it now - only after someone else pointed it out to me. I saw this book as a narrative about families and the small moments that one day lead up to the big ones, despite the best (or mediocre) intentions of everyone involved.

The book switches perspectives often, reiterating the rather common plot technique that shows how much we write our own stories. The experiences from the mother's perspective were most relatable to me, of course. The experiences told from the male perspectives felt vaguer, yet somehow the more mundane appeared to affect them more. Thus the white male rage, I realize now.

A man is upset that his wife's successful book comes to overshadow him. But, her female friend is jealous of that, too. A teenage boy who has been shunned for years is jokingly welcomed back into the fold, only to predictably act out violently in the end.

The book is well written and constructed. But - no offense to Barack Obama, who named it one of his favorite books of last year - I found it boring.

Maybe I just didn't get it. Maybe I need the tornado.

Silence of the Girls

"And I do what countless women before me have been forced to do. I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers."

Of course you don't understand, Briseis tells us. You've never been a slave.

This book. This beautiful, feminist book. It reminded me what I've learned from reading Circe and Song of Achilles in recent years: I don't want to read Greek mythology, but I will devour the stories retold in modern times.

As if you couldn't tell from the quote above, life is rough for the women of Troy, captured as the spoils of the Trojan war. Briseis lives in luxury until Achilles and his men destroy their city. She becomes Achilles' slave and has to share a bed with him, even after watching him murder her husband and brothers. That tortured existence and her yearning for home defines this novel. Why didn't she run? Why didn't she escape when she had the chance?

Probably for the third time, she'll remind you: you don't understand because you've never been a slave.

Life for these women is not that much different than it has been for women for centuries and longer. We are, at our best, defined by men; our stories are intricately intertwined with theirs. The stories of the women in this book are told in The Odyssey and The Iliad, but they are afterthoughts. They are background music. They are window dressing. Here in Pat Barker's pages, they get to finally tell their story to the world.

I loved this book. I love the way it's written and I love the Briseis getting her chance to tell her tale. It's not a happy ending, but it never was for these women, was it? But, in just the telling of it from her perspective, at least an ounce of power is granted.

The Only Plane in the Sky

"Where were you on 9/11?"

It's a question that defines my generation and so many others. We remember where we were (Kennewick, Washington), how we heard (from radio DJ Rick Dees, of all people) and what we did next (went to work as a TV journalist and chronicled the local stories as the world changed before our eyes.)

I remember how I felt that day. I remember the people I interviewed. I remember lines from stories I wrote. We don't forget defining days and moments. This book is a testament to that.

The book is made up of hundreds of accounts of what happened on that defining day. From people inside the World Trade Center to people on the ground in Shanksville, you read short snippets of their stories that, woven together, walk you through those 24 hours. Most of the book is focused on the day itself; the epilogue winds down the story and includes the death of Osama bin Laden. 

It's harrowing at times to read the stories of the women who didn't yet know they would be widows by day's end. You read and feel the compulsion to help, as told by the first responders who ran into buildings while everyone else ran away. You get a glimpse into the uncertainty of what was happening on Air Force One, as President Bush pushed to go home and the Secret Service overruled him.

Not to discount any of those stories, but there's little here you probably didn't know if you were an adult on 9/11. There was nothing that shocked or surprised me; the narratives merely told the story.

I don't know that you need to run out and read this book if you remember the day with any sort of clarity. I applaud the effort of compiling the histories, which should be preserved to honor the memory of the dead.

Pines

This book reminds me of when I go out for a run.

Starts strong. Full of promise and enthusiasm. Possibilities are endless. By the end, I'm just kind of wheezing along, just waiting for things to be over. When it's finally over, I feel decent about where I came from. But, the whole thing is a little hazy.

This book really did start out strong. A Secret Service agent wakes up in a fog in a remote and mountainous Idaho town. He's been in an accident and, initially, can't even remember his own name. He makes his way to a hospital and quickly realizes something about this town and its people are off.

He's there to investigate the disappearance of two other Secret Service agents, one of which he had an affair at some point. But, when he finds one of them dead, his urgency to get back to his life and family grows even more. Soon, he couldn't get out of this town if he tried and he can't get a hold of anyone who can help him.

What follows is the explanation for how the town of Wayward Pines, Idaho came to exist and the secret the people living there have learned to accept.

This book had my heart racing at times. I could not guess what would happen next and could not imagine where things were going. Once the climax began to reveal itself, my interest started to wane. While I did finish understanding how we got from point A to point B, I didn't actually care that much in the end.

Like those runs, I'm glad I completed it, but I don't feel like it's necessary to repeat.