Disappearing Earth

Finished my last book of 2019 just under the wire. I expected I would be finishing as the clock approached midnight on NYE, but a bout of middle-of-the-night insomnia made for a good hour to wrap things up this morning. This was a good one to end with, but it left a little to be desired.

I didn't know much about Disappearing Earth, but it was on quite a few lists of the best books of the year. Reading the description, I wasn't sure it was for me. But, it was a well-told story with a complicated web of characters that you knew would somehow come together in the end.

It starts with the disappearance of two sisters on Russian's Kamachtaka Peninsula. Isolated from many and in the shadow of a volcano, the mystery begins on that very first page. We, the readers, know that the girls are taken. Many in the region believe they merely drowned in the bay. 

Each chapter is a different month of the year of their disappearance and each focuses on new characters. Slowly, they start to blend into each other's stories. When each chapter begins, it takes a few pages to engage with that story, but I found every one of them to be worthwhile on their own. Then, you see a pattern emerge about the way women are treated in this far-flung part of the world; each of their stories, much of their existence, is defined by the men in their lives. In each case, you realize that it's up to the women to find their own way.

I found this story riveting and, at times, breathtaking. There were a couple of moments where I literally put my hand over my heart at what was taking place. But, as it raced toward its conclusion, I found it wrapped up a little too easily. I also look back now realizing some of the characters that moved the book along didn't do much to advance the story itself. While much of it was grounded in realism, the ending felt a little too tidy. 

My 5 favorite books of 2019

By the time the clock strikes midnight and a new decade begins, I should have finished reading my 55th book of the year. 55! That's more than I expected, but a healthy pace for the third straight year.

As some of you know, this blog started with a New Year's resolution for 2017 to read a book every week. In 2017, I finished 56. Last year, I wasn't planning on keeping up that pace, but finished with 44 total. I fully plan to keep up the one book per week pace next year, but I also have a lot of TV shows I want to finish and a lot of podcasts to try, so I'm not going to make myself crazy. Still, I have absolutely loved getting back in the habit of reading more and there are a million on my list still to read.

So, breaking down 2019...

55 books is a lot of books. Looking back, though, that number is not entirely accurate. I started and didn't finish a book this year, but it keeps showing up on my total. It was truly awful, you guys. And, I don't feel bad about not finishing it. But, maybe 54 1/2 is a more accurate description for how many books I actually FINISHED this year. There's your factcheck.

I LIKED a lot of what I read this year. I didn't love quite as many as I have in the past few years. I read a good mix of new and older, fiction and non-fiction. I read a lot of books that dealt with poverty and a lot of books that examined the ways society puts women in boxes and expects them to stay there. That wasn't intentional, I really do try to mix it up. That's just the way the bibliography shook out.

This year, I became even more intimately familiar with my public library. Wait, intimately may not be the right word there... It was a strictly platonic relationship. But, I did check out quite a few more books this year, which means I bought fewer titles. I miss owning books. I'll be moving into a new house in a couple of months and have space set aside for bookshelves, so I look forward to transfering some of the shoe budget to the book budget (just kidding... books AND shoes are what make the world go 'round.)

So, sorry for the preamble there. I just like to look back on the year in books as whole. For those of you who have read this far, THANK YOU. Thanks for reading this, thanks for reading my reviews, thanks for suggesting new books to add to my list. I already have about 20 in the queue for 2020...

Without further adieu, my top 5 books of 2019... (out of 54 1/2). Links go back to my full reviews.

1. Daisy Jones & the Six. 

I couldn't possibly love this book more. One of my top five favorite books of all time. Daisy Jones & the Six are a band in the 70s who hit it big, then break up with no public explanation. This book is told as if in a series of interviews in a music magazine. It's about love, family, music, badass women, heartbreak. It's just perfect. It took my breath away at times, broke my heart in others. And, I read it on the beach in Costa Rica, so it will always feel like coconuts and sunshine to me. I rarely read a book more than once; I will absolutely read this one again.

2. City of Girls

Another one of my favorite books of the year (and of... ever) is about a strong, badass woman who lives her life in a way you don't expect. Our protagonist here lives unapologetically, but only after she's shamed and forced to rethink everything. City of Girls is pure magic. It's about a woman named Vivian who loves sex, loves men and lives out loud in a period of time where that wasn't exactly accepted. This book shows you the consequences of her actions and also how she defined herself beyond her youth. It's written as a letter to a woman whose identity we don't learn until nearly the end. It completely swept me away. Like Daisy Jones, I also read this book on vacation. A long weekend at the lake and this book was exactly what I needed.

3. Homegoing

Okay, I didn't read this book on vacation. And, it's not about misguided women living life on their own terms. Lest you think that's all I read this year. What Homegoing has in common with the first two books on this list is the unique narrative structure. With as many characters as this book laid out, the author had to be incredibly skilled to pull it off without confusing the reader. Yaa Gyasi did it magnifenctly. Homegoing tells the story of a two family bloodlines from a village in Africa, through slavery into the United States and into present day. Each chapter switches between families; each chapter advances the family another generation. It's incredibly written, remarkable in its structure. This book was published in 2016; my only regret is not reading it sooner.

4. The Testaments

I feel like I cheated a little bit on this one. I hadn't read Atwood's famous book The Handmaid's Tale until this year. To be honest, I didn't realize it was as famous a novel as it was. All I knew was that the world was obsessed with the Hulu series. I was fascinated by the subject matter, but didn't feel like I had the time to invest in the series. But, as soon as I saw all the hype about its sequel finally being released, I had to see what it was all about. I read Handmaid's Tale, then immediately jumped into The Testaments. I felt like I cheated because I didn't have to wait the 34 years like the readers of the original book had to do. Jumping into both back-to-back was a revelation. Handmaid's Tale is about the dystopian society where women lose all of their power and are relegated into categories designed only to perpetuate the species. So much mystery is left at the end. The Testaments answers all of it in a completely satisfying way. Again, badass women living outside of their boxes. I loved them both. You absolutely can't read one without the other.

5. Three Women

Okay, now that I've reached the final book of this list, I realize 2019 absolutely did have a feminist vibe. And, a tilt towards books not written in the most conventional way. Three Women is a strange book to describe and my feelings about it have changed a lot since I finished reading it three months ago. A work of non-fiction, the book is a profile of (you guessed it) three women with very different and complicated stories to tell. One is a young woman who had an affair with her high school teacher in a story that became national news. One is a woman trapped in a sexless marriage who reached out to her high school boyfriend and tries to recapture the sexual ache of her youth. The last is a powerful business woman whose husband likes to watch her have sex with other men. It's unflinching, intimate and, more often than not, extremely uncomfortable. It's the most in-depth, honest look at female desire that I've ever read. I've thought about it so much in the months since I read it. It makes you think about how women's sexuality is portrayed and how we all fit into advancing that complex narrative. And, it explores how men and women share that same desire, but it's the women most often punished for it.

So, that's my Top 5. Strong women, powerful narrative structure, covering centuries with diverse and unforgettable characters. 

There were others that I liked quite a bit that sit just outside this top 5. Here are some quick links, so you don't have to sift through all 55!

-Nickel Boys One of my favorites, it's about a school for "broken boys" in Florida and the racism that was finally exposed, decades later. 

-Becoming Michelle Obama's memoir was my first of 2019. A dense and powerful look at a woman who will stand in history in her own right.

-There's No Crying in Newsrooms - My most-read review on the blog this year, it's pretty specific to women in my industry. A powerful, important read for women in news.

-Immortalists Unique and powerful book about a group of siblings who are told by a fortune teller the day they will die. It follows them all through their lives as you wonder if the fortunes will come true. Such a great book! 

Hope you can find something here you like. As always, I'm happy to recommend books! Here's to a great year of reading in 2020. 

Fleishman Is In Trouble

Why books great 'til they gotta be great?

I'm exaggerating.

Kind of.

But, this book held so much promise for me. I liked so much of it. But, I feel like it fell apart in the final 30%. Like Peter Griffin on Family Guy once said about The Godfather, "It insists upon itself."

That's how this book ended for me. Like, it made its point (which was a good point, actually), then it just refused to end. That's what's left a bad taste in my mouth.

Let me back up.

This book took off like a rocket to me. Toby Fleishman is a soon-to-be-divorced fortysomething dad who is experiencing single life for the first time after a long and, to hear him tell it, tortured marriage. He's finding out through dating apps that there's a world of adult sexual experience to be explored and he's living his life to the absolute fullest in that regard. We also learn about his wife who is more obsessed with her career than she is with being a mom. One day, she drops the kids off early for their weekend with dad and vanishes. Drops off the face of the earth. No texts, no calls, no updates. In the weeks (and chapters) that follow, we wonder along with Toby how a mother could simply abandon her children. How could she be so selfish?

You see where this is going, right? It doesn't take a soothsayer to know that you're going to find out where Rachel really is and that maybe Toby's opinion isn't exactly spot on after all.

The book is narrated by Toby's college friend who is living her own version of a tortured marriage existence. Through her and every other central character in this book, the message of this book is crystal clear: in marriage, we're all wrong and we're all right and we rarely see it through other people's eyes. And, we're all longing for the past and future simultaneously without ever really appreciating the present.

See, there's a lot about this book that resonates. The idea that every day, we're getting older. We're constantly trying to hang onto something that's past. As parents and spouses, it's incredibly easy to forget who we are; when we try to remind ourselves, our motives are dismissed as selfish and immature.

The book did an incredible job capturing that feeling. It also did a great job exploring how we never really know anyone, even someone we've shared our bed with for more than a decade. And, it made the point about the expectations society has for women. We're either moms or sexual beings, but not both. We're either moms or ambitious about our career, but not both. The points are clear and relevant. But, at the end, it really belabored that point. It's also a theme that appears more and more in books I've read. The author here didn't do much to tell it in a different way. By the end, I felt like shouting "WE GOT IT!" and it still went on for 40 pages or so after that.

About 80% of the way through, there's a metaphor about watching a show that doesn't get good until the third season. It's about how we endure just because we're expecting some payoff and about the time we waste waiting for something to "get good." It was an apt metaphor given my thoughts on this book overall.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I almost loved this book. Maybe 70 fewer pages could have done the trick.

Moment of Lift

Let me start by saying Melinda Gates is a brilliant, remarkable woman. What she and her husband have done for the world is absolutely incredible and almost hard to fathom. What they're focusing on now - lifting up WOMEN - is the most remarkable approach of all. 

This book has been called one of the best of the year. I read it after watching her on the David Letterman Netflix show (which the title for is so long, I can't remember it and I'm too lazy to Google it right now.) Bottom line: I needed to read more about her mission and her message. 

What the Gates Foundation is doing is not simply empowering women in the "You Go, Girl" kind of way in which that phrase is often associated. They're literally lifting communities out of poverty by lifting up the women through education, access to contraception and other means.

For example... Access to contraception that most of us take for granted can change an entire society. The less control women have over when they'll have children and how many, the more likely women are to die in childbirth, have children they can't feed and have children who don't make it past the first year of life. This book points out that no country in the last 50 years has emerged from poverty without expanding access to contraceptives. 

Think about that.

The kind of family planning we have the luxury of experiencing can literally lift a society out of poverty.

This book is filled with that kind of information and so much more about how simply given women some control in their families and communities is what will eventually change the world.

Gates does this not through preaching in this book, but through examples of the women she's met. The stories she tells are heartbreaking and inspiring. She talks about how cultural traditions often put women and children in danger and how breaking through those traditions takes not a billionaire's donation, but the "buying in" of those communities.

It's fascinating and awe-inspiring work. It's so big, it's hard to even comprehend. Gates takes it down to a personal level in this book and the change feels almost accessible to the rest of us.

All that said, I found myself bored by the end of the book. That's horrible to say, but I got more out of her interview with Letterman and shorter stories I've read of the work. Here, it felt repetitive after the first half or so and I found my mind wandering. That's not a comment on the work, please don't confuse the two. I just feel you can get the same feel for what's being done through interviews and articles without needing to invest your time in the entire book.

Lady in the Lake

Let me make this brief.

This one was not for me.

I saw this book on a lot of best seller lists and read a lot of accolades, but I just had a feeling from the jump that I wouldn't enjoy it. 

I probably should follow my gut.

This book will absolutely interest some people, I can appreciate that. But, it felt too much like a Dateline episode with some pretty pedestrian storytelling, some not-so-dramatic twists and turns and a big "revelation" at the end. The revelation was the most interesting part of the book, but it just took too damn long to get there.

The biggest problem with this book is that it actually tried to do too much. The main character is a woman who gets divorced in the 1960's and has to reinvent herself. She goes from, essentially, trophy wife to newspaper journalist by inserting herself into some high-profile criminal cases. The journalist in me was annoyed by it, the woman in me was annoyed by it, the reader in me was annoyed by it. 

The author tried to make it more interesting by switching points of view, which can only work if those points of view all eventually become relevant. Instead, it felt like a magic trick with no payoff. It was just... messy.

I just read a review of this book written by Stephen King. Clearly, I've missed the point. But, I like what I like - and this wasn't it. 

An American Marriage

In some stories, there are no heroes. There are no villains. No clear wrong or right. There are merely circumstances. Those stories are often the ones that stay with you the most.

One review described An American Marriage as "a genuinely suspenseful love story where nobody's wrong and everybody's wounded." 

Couldn't have said it better myself.

This is the story of Celestial and Roy... and, Andre. The first two are married and live a somewhat unremarkable life together. Andre is a mutual friend who grew up as the boy next door to Celestial. Then one day, Roy is arrested for and convicted of a crime he didn't commit. While he waits in prison for the justice that may never come, life on the outside goes on without him.

What happens through that time and after is told through alternating perspectives; one chapter is Roy, one is Andre, one is Celestial and on and on it goes. What it does is provides not a jolt of storytelling back and forth, but a realistic look at life. What happens to you doesn't only happen to you. What you see through your own eyes is not always reality. The truth - the right and wrong - usually lives in the gray area.

I loved this book. It was sweet and sad and somewhat hopeful. It wasn't easy, by any means. It felt entirely too real; and, perfectly just so. You find yourself not rooting for or against anyone, but simply resigning to yourself that fairy tale endings belong in fairy tales for a reason.

Such a good, clean read of a messy story. Beautifully written, too.  

American Predator

It's weird to say how much you enjoyed a book about such awful, evil things. But, this book was so riveting and fascinating, I finished it in two days.

I'm not generally someone who reads true crime. Maybe it's because I'm a journalist and I'm surrounded by this kind of thing all the time. Also, very few of them break the formula and truly bring something interesting to the table. Still, I wanted to read American Predator as soon I heard about it. The subject, serial killer Israel Keyes, may very likely have killed in my own backyard.

What most people know about Israel Keyes is the murder that ultimately led to his capture. He climbed inside a coffee stand in Anchorage, then abducted and murdered the teenage girl working inside. I remember hearing about that and also hearing about "kill kits" Keyes left all over the country. It piqued my interest even more when I learned Keyes used to live in the small town of Colville, Washington not far from where I live. Up there in the mountains outside of town, I have covered a number of crimes committed by people who wanted to live "off the grid" and away from government intrusion. Keyes was raised in a home like that. Two young girls were murdered around the time he lived here and those crimes have never been solved.

But, I didn't remember hearing much more about Keyes until I heard that he committed suicide in jail before he went to trial. His secrets appeared to have died with him.

Until a journalist fought to open them up.

Callahan fought for the release of investigative records, documents, videotaped confessions, etc. She spoke to some of the investigators tasked with finding out as much as they could about Keyes and other crimes he claims to have committed. What shakes out of that endeavor is a story about a serial killer with no predictable patterns, no clear M.O. That makes discovering exactly who he killed and when even more difficult. Her work reveals a man trained by the military, raised with white supremacist beliefs and able to leave for a cruise while a young woman's body lay hidden in a shed outside of his house.

Keyes gave his investigators information they never would have learned without his confessions; he also made them look like fools at nearly every turn. The randomness of his crimes and what he may have done to his own body to pull them off makes for some seriously disturbed sleep. Fortunately, I finished it quickly or it could have been a long week...

This book is chilling in its detail. It's complete in its critical examination of a largely botched investigation. And, at the very end, it leaves the door open to so many other possible secrets that the rest of the world will likely never know.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Oskar Schell wears heavy boots.

That's how the little boy at the heart of this moving story describes how he feels when his emotions are just too much. Heavy boots.

This book made me feel like my boots were heavier than I ever imagined.

This is Oskar's story about finding a connection to his dad, who was in the World Trade Center on 911. He's not handling those emotions well - who would, really? - and, reaches out for any way to find the connection he lost that day. He finds a key in his father's closet with a name written on the envelope. Black. Desperate to find someone who knew his dad and could tell him what that key would open, young Oskar decides he needs to meet everyone in the NYC phone book with the last name "Black."  His journey takes him down subways, through boroughs and into people's homes he never imagined.

He's a little boy with quirks, no well-liked or understood. He has a mind far beyond his years and emotions he's clearly not capable of expressing or understanding. He's a really grown-up tiny child. I wanted to swoop Oskar up in my arms or at least help carry him on this journey.

Along the way, we also learn about Oskar's grandmother who lives across the street and a desperate secret about family she's been hiding as well.

This book has been out for years and was made into a movie as well. I really hadn't considered reading it until I heard the author Jonathan Safran Foer on the Dax Shepard podcast "Armchair Expert." Halfway through the interview, I liked this guy so much, I went online and ordered his book! When I went back to the interview, I heard Foer say this was his least favorite book among those he's written! Crap! And, when I started it, I wasn't sure I would finish. It's heavy and meandered a bit and I wasn't sure it was going to end up anywhere that satisfied me.

I'm glad I stuck with it. The second half picked up and the last quarter was exquisite. You don't find joy in this story, but you do find satisfaction. Connection. And truth. And you are reminded about how much in our lives we don't say, even to the people who mean the most. We worry about being too vulnerable; we worry about bringing other people down. And what we don't say often drives us apart.

Warning, though: it will absolutely make you feel those heavy boots.

Girls Burn Brighter

"What's going on with the sex slaves?

That's a real question my husband asked me as I was about 3/4 of the way through this book. I typically refrain from explaining the plot of every book I read, but I was just overwhelmed with this one and tried to describe it to him halfway.

Girls Burn Brighter is gripping, heart-wrenching, awful - and, good. I don't mean that the subject matter is "good"; I mean that the book was well-written and even hopeful even in its darkest moments.

The story is actually the story of two girls that overlap. They're incredibly close as young girls in very poor India, but horrific circumstances (rape + forced marriage) rip them apart. They spend the next several years enduring absolute horror as they desperately try to find each other. One is sold to someone in Seattle; the other is desperate to track her down. How she tries leads us on a terrible and improbable journey.

The characters are rich and real; the stories are heartbreaking and easily true. The ending... Well... I have a coworker who was in happy tears at the end. I was just frustrated enough to toss my book onto my bed and sigh. But, it was still the best possible ending I could have imagined.

This book is tough to read. The things this young girls endure should almost not be available for our "entertainment". But, it's raw and real and utterly page-turning. Even though I think it would be better if it were about 75 pages shorter.

Fates and Furies

"She made a promise that she would never show him the evil that lived in her, that he would know of her only a great love and light." -fates and furies

How far do we go to hide our true selves? Where do we bury the darkness that lies within? And, how much will we bury to protect the ones we love?

Those are all central questions in this extraordinary work of fiction. So extraordinary, in fact, that I finished it a couple of hours ago and I know it won't do it justice to write about it here. The story itself is compelling, but that's not what makes this book so remarkable. The true feat here is how it's told.

Our story begins with a passionate encounter on the beach between a man and a woman. Their love is clear, their lust for each other even more so. And, immediately, you hear the foreshadowing of a story that will take them to places together and separately that no one expects them to go.

Part one is Fates and is the love story told from the man's perspective. Lotto - Lancelot - is born into money and sent away as a teenager for his own protection. His father is dead, his mother incapable of caring for him. So, he's off to prep school, then Vassar, then NYC. Despite missteps and failures and being cut off from his family's wealth, the sun seems to always shine on Lotto. He meets Mathilde in their last days of college and she's an enigma to Lotto and their friends. She doesn't speak about her past, says she has no family to speak of, and quietly becomes the force that drives Lotto's success. When he becomes a highly-regarded playwright, she's the one waiting in the wings (and more.) How does she stay with him? How is she so patient? And, how does she manage to live a life only for him?

We find out in Part 2.

Part 2, The Furies, is the love story from the other side. Mathilde's story. You see her past reveal itself, wave after dark wave. You see how she came to be the stoic wife that stands by her husband. You see the family that fell away. You see a woman primed for revenge against those who dare try to stand in the way of her husband's happiness. She wants to be for him something that no one has ever given to her. You see Lotto's story through her eyes and its depth is significantly magnified.

You've heard the basics of the story before. The woman behind the man, the complicated world of mothers and daughters-in-law..  There's Greek tragedy here as well. And there are surprises in the final chapters that left my mouth agape.

The Fates half of this book moves slowly at times, with long chapters and a lot of setup. It pays off in The Furies absolutely.

I've read Groff's writing before in her collection of short stories called Florida. It's soaring prose, yet somehow not overwritten. Even the secondary characters here are deep. I can't imagine how it must be to pull off a book like this, but I'm incredibly grateful that she did.

Mem

Did your mother ever tell you that you weren't living up to her expectations? Man, I hope not. That's cold. But, after reading this book, that sentiment makes sense to me.

So. Much. Potential. Alas, a letdown.

This book practically jumped off the shelf at me from the Staff Picks section of my favorite local bookstore (the amazing Aunties Bookstore in Spokane.) The cover itself is striking; the plot, even more so. We're in 1920's Montreal in a world where science has found a way to take away our darkest memories. Essentially, those who can afford it can have that memory extracted. The Mem, as it's called, is basically a clone of the source person and lives underground in a vault until it expires. What would we do to take away that pain? What would we lose of ourselves if we remove the most undesirable? What could possibly go wrong?

So. Much. Potential.

The story focuses on one Mem much different than the rest. She's not the void, vapid shell that the other Mems are. She's able to think and dream and live outside the vault. Until one day, she's recalled - and, about to be reprinted. Then, she finds out more about her Source and finds the one chance she has to save herself from being erased.

I'm frustrated even writing this.

There were so many different ways this story had gone. There were so many possibilities. So many storylines. Instead, the book sort of just meandered. And, when it finally reached its destination, it was with an unemphatic whimper.

I'm such a disappointed mom. I'd like to have the memory of reading this book extracted!

Fortunately, the next book I read took me on a fulfilling journey instead...

The Nickel Boys

"An infinite brotherhood of broken boys..."

How else could you describe it, this network of young men. Young men, grown into old men - if they're lucky - carrying the weight of racism and the heartbreak of their own past.

As our story opens, a secret graveyard is discovered on the site of an old reform school for boys in Florida. When the ground gives up its secrets, the men are forced to do the same. They look back on a nightmare of torture, abuse and terror in the Jim Crow south and the beatings they suffered at the hands of the white men who could get away with it.

The Nickel Boys is a tale that somehow manages to explain this torture with language that, at times, feels all too normal. Based on the story of a real-life torturous school, it bravely and quietly shouts the sins of generations. Young men locked up for nearly nothing, young men made wards of the state, young men forced to bend at the whims of the men in power. Some broke, some disappeared, some asked too many questions and were never seen again.

Colson Whitehead is a master, you guys. His book Underground Railroad won a Pulitzer and this book is another 'meat on the bones' tale that forces us to look back at this country's past without allowing decades to brush it away.

Our protagonist has a bright future, despite the poverty and the fact his parents abandoned him. A mixup - a slight misstep - and, he's thrust into The Nickel home for boys. Inspired by Dr. King, he is determined to right the wrongs through his own resistance, consequences be damned. You root for him, your heart breaks for him. And, Whitehead carries you through his story until a twist that changes everything.

This book feels complicated and simple and exquisite all at once. These broken boys...

The Testaments

"The world was infested with men who were certain to be tempted by girls who strayed out of bounds; such girls would be viewed as loose with their morals."

And thus is the reason behind the coup that led to Gilead. But, The Testaments is so much more than that.

The Testaments, if you've been living under a literary rock this year, is the long-awaited sequel to The Handmaid's Tale. How long? Like, 35 years. I can't imagine the torture for those who read the book all those years ago and wondered what becomes of our handmaid and the world from which she appears to escape. It probably moved beyond torture to resolution; I mean, after 30+ years or so, you stop waiting for the sequel and come to your own conclusions. I feel like I cheated that I just read The Handmaid's Tale a few weeks ago and got to dive right in to see what happened next.

The Testaments is set 15 years after Offred appears to escape the clutches of her commander. She's not the protagonist here, though. Instead, Atwood (brilliantly) tells a story through three narrators. Two are young girls when their story begins, the other is the esteemed Aunt Lydia. They're telling the same story, but each through their own eyes. Each story is rich, compelling and haunting; each became more so when they came together.

The Handmaid's Tale (the book) gives hints about Gilead and the revolution that led to this patriarchy where women are categorized and treated by their ability to bear children. The Testaments brings that story out even more and we get a better understanding of what led to the overthrowing of the U.S. government and the rise of this religiously-couched new order. It shows how women were categorized into wives, Aunts, handmaids and Marthas. The power, the violence, the control... It all comes to life in this haunting sequel.

You'll be shocked (not shocked) to know that the dystopia was formed because men feared their ability to control themselves around women. And, you watch what happens as the women taught to be obedient come to discover that the world laid out for them is based on control and lies.

"Once a story you've regarded as true has turned false, you begin suspecting all stories."

What's most remarkable here is the way Atwood tells the story. Her three women tell parallel stories, but each is an unreliable. Their tales weave neatly together and I left completely satisfied.

I'm not sure how much of this story is told in the Hulu series. I'm not sure if it's based entirely on the first book or if it takes liberties with the story. But, if the series needs an ending, the tale contained in The Testaments is a fantastic place to find it.

All The President's Men

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Handmaid's Tale

I believe I may have been the last person on the planet to familiarize myself with The Handmaid's Tale. I didn't know anything about the book and I haven't watched a second of the insanely popular Hulu series. But, I was always intrigued and it takes a lot less time to read a book than it does to binge watch a TV series.

So, there I was, wondering, WHAT TOOK ME SO LONG?

I actually don't think a lot of people are aware that the show is based on a book; maybe that's because the book came out in the early 1980s. I actually only heard about it when the sequel was released last month. It was time to dive in.

You probably know the basic gist: we're in the future and the world has drastically changed. Fertility rates have dropped, women are now property, and some exist with the sole purpose of procreating. We never even hear the main character's first name as she narrates this unthinkable world. Slowly, she reveals details about her life but also the slow progress of how society ended up this way. She talks about walking through the city she had lived in, trying to remember what was there before. How when things change in that way, the past world slowly melts away.

It's about power, control, sexism, fear... And, it's absolutely riveting. The simple way its written makes the horror of the story feel even more real. 

In the introduction to the book, Margaret Atwood explains that she won't write about anything that hasn't already happened somewhere in the world. Reading that, then reading the book make the reality more chilling.

I'm working on the sequel now... 

The Gone Dead

Anticipointment.

That's a dumb word we use in TV news sometimes when a promo for a story gets you excited, then the story itself lets you down.

This book had a lot of promise, but not a lot of payoff.

I've read a lot of southern literature lately. Something feels good about books set in the deep south. I like the setting as character and there are a lot of incredible authors in the genre right now. So, I gravitated towards this book.

In it, a woman returns to the Mississippi Delta decades after her father's death. She hasn't been back since, but she inherited his old house and decides it's time to return, however briefly, to prepare the house for sale and maybe solve the mystery of  her father's death.

An up and coming black poet, Cliff was found dead in his yard in what the police declared as an accident or maybe even a suicide. Cliff's family and his daughter Billie never quite believed it and, given the racism of the 1970s when he died, she had good reason to doubt the official story. As she talks to people who knew her dad and meets up with a scholar who has written about his life, she also learns for the first time that she had gone missing the hours after her father's death. Why had no one mentioned it? Where did she go? And, who was covering it up now?

Are you anticipating? I was too. Then, I found myself anticipating and anticipating and never quite receiving the payout.

It's not that the story is not interesting. It is. But, it just takes too long to get to the good stuff. And, when it does, it follows the most obvious track.

I was anticipointed... And, wish I would have bailed out halfway through.

Three Women

This one. This is going to be hard to describe. But, I just shared with the woman who recommended it to me that this book was "so fascinating and so uncomfortable and I couldn't stop reading it."

I should probably explain.

First, a shout out to the woman who told me I should read this book. Kristi is crazy smart, well-read and wonderful. Her dad is one of three on one of the most popular radio shows in Spokane and I'm lucky enough to have met Kristi through him. She asked if I wanted to borrow it, then dropped it off at my house. But, she didn't just leave it on the porch in a plastic bag, which is what I would have done. She put it in a cute bag, added a card and included a candle - because she said she thought I would appreciate reading a book with a new candle burning. Isn't that wonderful? It really has nothing to do with the book, but I just wanted to say we should all be a little more like Kristi.

Anyway.

This book is billed as a revolutionary, groundbreaking, unflinching look at the concept of female desire. Over centuries, female desire has been misunderstood and dismissive. The author of Three Women actually set out to write a book about male desire, only to discover it was female desire that deserved more thoughtful exploration.

So, she dove in.

Taddeo followed the stories of three women in various parts of the country with complicated levels of desire. One woman is in a sexless marriage in which her husband won't even kiss her on the mouth. She aches to be desired and thinks she's found it in an old high school boyfriend. Another is a young woman who, as a teenager, had a sexual relationship with her high school teacher. The last is a beautiful, chic, successful woman whose husband likes to bring others into their relationship and likes to watch her have sex with other men. The book ping pongs between their stories and you feel yourself rise and fall as their emotions become intertwined with the desire they chase.

Guys, it's a lot. At first, it felt like you were reading someone else's diary. As the book continues, though, you feel like you're reading things most people wouldn't write down, let alone be able to admit about themselves. It's cringe-worthy, heartbreaking, fascinating... But, it can be really frustrating, too, and really hard to read.

Even Oprah said this book was groundbreaking feminism. I found what I learned disappointing. Not that the book was disappointing - not at all. But, what I took away was that women followed their sexual desire, couldn't detach from the emotional connections and found themselves in ashes while the men with the same desires simply walked away. The teacher, in fact, was named North Dakota Teacher of the Year. I found that - the reality of how female desire is portrayed and received - incredibly disheartening.

I may take away something completely different than you would. I feel like this book, more than most, is colored by a thick layer of your own personal experience. I also think there's a hell of a lot more that needs to be de-stigmatized about the way women satisfy their sexual desires.

The Tattooist of Auschwitz

It's weird to be critical of a book based on such an incredible story of love and survival.

It's weird to be critical of a book that moves so quickly, you finish it on a single Phoenix to Spokane flight.

I'm about to do both.

Let's get weird.

I've seen this book for awhile now and never picked it up. I read and studied a lot about the Holocaust in college - fiction writing and historical - and something has to really stand out now to get me back to it. But, I was about to board a plane without a book and needed something to pass the time. This looked compelling enough and it was in paperback, so what did I have to lose?

The novel is based on the true story of a man imprisoned at Birkeneau who takes a job as the man who tattoos numbers on new prisoners at nearby Auschwitz. The job feels like cooperation with the SS, but it's a way to survive and even be given some "perks" in a truly horrific place. While carrying out his job, he meets and falls in love with a fellow prisoner. The rest of the book is their story of survival and a story of how they found love in the midst of human tragedy.

Is it powerful? In story, yes. But, for me, the pages simply flew by. It's not that I'm insensitive or even immune to the horrors that took place. But, the writing simply lacked the depth a story like this deserves. I can't explain why, but it left me wanting more. More lessons. More insight. More... depth.

A Holocaust novel should not be a quick read. But, I was uplifted (spoiler alert - but, it's written on the back cover, too) by the fact that their love did survive the camps.

Men We Reaped

I grew up white, middle class, in a city/state/region of the country that doesn't carry the burden of the history of slavery.

Jesmyn Ward's life and DNA couldn't be more different.

If you've read any of her fiction, you know Ward has the sins of the American South deep in her bloodline. If you've taken the time to anyone like her, you know that history is nearly impossible to shake.

Ward's memoir lays in all bare: the hate, the fear, the weight... I could never truly know what it's like to grow up black in the South. With Ward's book, you can't - and, shouldn't - look away.

Her story is about the deaths of four young black men. Men she knew, men she loved, even her own brother. They die from violence and from circumstance - and, what they have in common is that their deaths feel inevitable. Ward intertwines the stories of their deaths with the story of her life. It's heartbreaking and heavy. The weight of that history makes a relatively short book feel like it will never end.

"The land the community park is built on... is designated to be used as burial sites so the graveyard can expand as we die," she writes. "One day our graves will swallow our playground. Where we live becomes where we sleep."

It's a book about the scourge of poverty and of being black and poor in the South. About the things we know about and the things no one pays enough attention to. The percentage of black men and women who receive care for mental health is half that of non-Hispanic whites. It's not that they don't experience it; they don't ask for help. And, it's killing them one generation after another.

Ward "escaped" that life in a way few others do. She went to California, went to Stanford, got an education and a glimpse of life away. But, the history of the men she lost and the responsibility to those still there was stronger. She now lives back in Mississippi and writes about it so that maybe the rest of us - even those of us in the opposite corner of the country/spectrum/circumstance - might understand and finally bring about real change.

A Gentleman in Moscow

I totally got it. Then, I didn't. Then, I kind of did at the end.

By "it" I mean I totally get why really brilliant people like Bill and Melinda Gates speak so highly of this book. But, a couple hundred pages in, I didn't get what the hype was about and I desperately wanted this book to end. When it finally did, I thought, "Oh, wow. That's really something."

This is a terribly explained review so far.

Let me elaborate.

A Gentleman in Moscow is about an aristocratic man who collides with the Bolshevik revolution in Russia. He angers the leaders of this new way of life and while his life is spared, he is placed under house arrest in a Moscow hotel for the rest of his life. In a story that spans 30 years and even more lifetimes, we see how he shrinks his life into the walls around him. You sense not frustration, but hope, despite the world passing by outside his windows.

Early on, Count Alexander Rostov meets a young girl in the lobby of the hotel. Their sudden and unlikely friendship changes the course of both of their lives forever.

This book is beautifully, eloquently written. It's sad at times, but mostly hopeful. And Count Rostov is simply a lovely character.

But, y'all, it's SO BORING.

The first 200+ pages could be shrunk down to 100 or less and I swear that's just not the impatient TV journalist in me. There's so much unnecessary background and detail. Still, the writing and the characters were too good to let go of. It wasn't really until the last 30 pages or so that I realized I would really enjoy the fact that I read this book -- but, the satisfaction wouldn't come for me until after it was over.

There's No Crying in Newsrooms

Let me start off by saying the title of this book is a misnomer of sorts. I've worked in TV newsrooms for more than 20 years. There's a LOT of crying. We cry out of frustration, we cry out of anger, we cry when we've worked a 16-hour day and we can't open the lid on our juice (that literally happened to me in early July on the day we launched our new set!) We cry, too, because some stories are really, really hard to cover. I once stood on the side of the road and looked at body bags covering five children who were killed in a car accident. I've cried on my way to stories and on my way home - and, I've cried years later thinking of lives lost or powerfully touching moments.

This job - this field - brings with it a lot of tears.

But, generally speaking - as women - we're told not to cry at work. And, the women in this book have heard their share of instructions like that. Instructions about how to behave less like women in order to advance.

You don't have to be a journalist to get something from this book. But, as a woman who works in a newsroom - and, tries to lead one - this book was like manna from heaven. I should carry it around and have certain passages ready to go.

The women who wrote this book have been news leaders. They also interviewed many other women who either work in the field now or who helped pave the way for those of us who do. They tell stories of breaking barriers to be the first women in their positions and also about the no-in trade-off of being a news manager AND a mom. What ends up on the page is a mix of inspiration, advice, commonality and solace.

If you're a woman still working in the trenches, you'll be grateful for those who went before us. You'll be grateful for women like badass NPR reporter Nina Totenberg who once sat at a dinner in the Clinton White House next to a public official who reached over and put his hand on her leg. Her response: "What was I going to do? So I held his hand for the whole dinner. I ate with one hand. My theory was the hand couldn't move if I held it."

Thank you, Me Too movement, for moving us ever-so-slightly beyond that.

I marked passages in this book as I read, and earmarked pages. Then, I realized I wanted to earmark the whole damn thing. To remind myself why I'm often perceived the way that I am; that men are allowed to be tough, demanding, confident, etc. and that women are supposed to be soft and sweet. I'm grateful for the women who have said "Hell no." And, blazed a trail in high heels for the rest of us.

I'm grateful, too, for stories of how having women leaders changed the way news stories were covered. Newsrooms with women leaders brought forth more thoughtful coverage about community issues and brought a much-needed different perspective to the news of the day. It reaffirmed the way I'm trying to lead my newsroom and the coverage I'd like to see that I don't see enough of overall.

I loved, too, the stories of working news moms trying to balance the demands of life and home. I'm so grateful to know that I'm not the only one. And that it's OKAY to say "I love my job and I love my career and I wouldn't be as fulfilled if I was a stay-at-home mom." I just had a conversation with a friend who is also a news boss and feels that familiar twinge of guilt because she loves walking out the door to go to work in the morning.

I have gushed enough, right? You get it. This book was exactly what I need at this point in my career. Every woman who manages, has managed or wants to manage a newsroom should read it.

And, we should all strap on the heels and get to work to write the next chapter.

The Alchemy of Noise

Back in my college days, we called it "open to close." You go to the bar when it opens and drink all day until it's over. This is a bad analogy, but that's what came to mind yesterday when I realized I was going to read this book in one day. I simply could not put it down.

To be fair, I did put it down briefly. I went to the gym, took a shower, did some laundry, made dinner... But, for the most part, my entire rainy Sunday was spent with this book attached to my hand. I fell so deeply into the characters right away, I had to know what happened to them, even as I felt them careening towards disaster.

The book is about a white woman named Sidonie who hires, then begins dating, a black man to work at her nightclub. Somehow, the chemistry between these two jumps off the pages and you find yourself building with anticipation for when they finally end up together. From the beginning, there are cultural issues that turn both of their worlds upside down. She's with him when he's randomly pulled over by police. She can't understand why he's not outraged at the unfairness of it all. When she shares their relationship with people she loves, she finds out their racial biases that she never knew existed. All along, you root for them. Then, a violent arrest and a legal case tests whether this relationship can overcome the cultural differences.

At times, it had a Romeo and Juliet vibe. At times, it felt like cliche. But, cliches exist for a reason. Overall, it just worked. The writing was clean, the story was straightforward and the characters were real enough that you really rooted for them. And, I think it shines a light on the biases we all have about relationships, culture, bias, policing and prejudice - whether we want to acknowledge them or not. 

Any book that you can start at 9 am and finish at 10 pm begs to be celebrated. Open to close. 

The Castle on Sunset

I had high hopes for Hollywood gossip, my friends.

I'm just enough of a "news about celebrities" nerd that I thought an in-depth story about the history of one of its most famous haunts would keep me interested.

Alas, dear readers, it did not.

It's not that the story of the Chateau Marmont is not compelling. I mean, Lindsay Lohan used to party there and Belushi died there, for crying out loud. The problem is the book was actually too thorough for my liking. The painstaking detail about everyone ever involved might be interesting for others, but for me, I was just trying to get to the "good parts."

I commend the research the author did. But, I found myself skimming just to get through it.

No Hard Feelings: The Secret Power of Embracing Emotions at Work

I snuck in a book between books.

I was checking out a book that I had on hold at the library and this one was screaming at me from the 14-day loan shelf. Maybe it was the colorful cover, maybe it was the fact I've been working through a lot of emotions with people at work. Either way, it spoke to me. And, after what was a really quick read, I can say I learned some things in this book that will be helpful as I manage a newsroom full of dynamic personalities.

I've read a few leadership/workplace books and I don't always love them. I find most can be easily synthesized into an article or a 15-minute podcast. This one is really no different, but even skimming through it and reading the high points was beneficial.

The idea is to get away from the old school of thought that you should ignore your emotions at work. We're told early on - especially women - that we shouldn't be ruled by our emotions and that we should never EVER cry at work. It's unrealistic. And, it's especially unrealistic when we're working now with generations of people who have been taught not to keep their emotions inside. I also work in a TV newsroom where emotions often run high due to stressful deadlines, a collaborative environment and really emotional stories and interviews. This book is about not hiding those emotions, but how to better sort them and use them to your advantage, not your detriment.

I find this book would be more valuable for someone earlier on in their career. I'd really recommend it for any woman in her 20's who is finding her way through a career and a life. I don't mean that men couldn't benefit from it; but I do know women are more often seen as emotional and even hysterical for showing any emotion at all. We're (largely) ruled more by that emotion. This book could absolutely help.

For me - an old lady manager - there were still lessons to be learned. It was good to better understand (better remember, really) those times when work is the center of your universe and you were trying to navigate through the balance of emotion and your day-to-day responsibilities. It talks about how to make tough life decisions, how to avoid being a "chronic venter" and when to reset for your own sanity.

Each chapter includes real-life examples and takeaways on each topic. It also includes an assessment of determining your emotions at work and how to manage them.

Again, it's a quick read and I'd recommend it especially for young women early in their careers.

The Wife

I had to sit with this one a minute to truly appreciate what was a pretty remarkable book. It came at me so simply, so quietly, that I initially forgot to write about it when I wrote reviews of books that I read on my vacation. But, don't let that fool you; this is a story worth reading.

Married to a famous novelist on his way to accept a major award, Joan Castleman makes a monumental decision: she's going to leave him, finally, after all these years. When she describes their union and the comfortable simplicity of it, you can't help but question her decision. But, as the novel unfolds and describes the years of their lives leading up to that day, you see how the decision had been smoldering for some time.

Wolitzer lays out the story of a strong woman - a strong woman - who has held back and held her tongue to allow her husband's career to unfold. She's given up her own writing to support him, appear at his side and raise their children.  There are times she seems almost okay with that, accepting of the life she chose. That's the duty of a wife, after all, isn't it?

"Everyone needs a wife," Wolitzer writes. "Even wives need wives. They tend, they hover. Their ears are twin sensitive instruments, satellites, picking up the slightest scrape of dissatisfaction. Wives bring broth, we bring paper clips, we bring ourselves and our pliant, warm bodies. We know just what to say to the men who for some reason have a great deal of trouble taking consistent care of themselves or anyone else. 'Listen,' we say. 'Everything will be okay.' And then, as if our lives depend on it, we make sure it is."

Until one day, we decide we don't want to live for someone else anymore.

The story is written simply and beautifully and it almost seems boring at times. But, you find yourself so compelled to see how she ends it. Then, Wolitzer throws in a twist that you never see coming (or at least I didn't!) and she finally gets her due.

Turns out they made a movie of this - with Glenn Close, no less! Here's the trailer if movies are more your thing.