Kanye West Owes me $300: And other true stories from a white rapper who almost made it big

It's dangerous to buy someone a book.

Not dangerous like a knife fight or running from a cougar. But, dangerous in an intellectual sort of way. 

Or is that just me?

As the title of this blog will imply, I'm kind of a book snob. I won't publicly ridicule others for what they read (at least not out loud), but I'm picky about what I read myself. There are a few reasons for that. For one, I don't have a ton of free time. I'm a mom and I have a full-time job and I spend a lot of time at Target and whatnot. Also, I was an English major, so I had to read a lot of books I didn't care for. That means now, I read only what I like to read. And, if someone buys a book for me or recommends something, I feel pressure to read it. If I trust your suggestion and I love the book, awesome. But, most often, I'll be mad at your if your advice or purchase was wrong.

What does that have to do with Kanye West? Well, this book was a gift. A former co-worker and his wife sent me this for my birthday and I had never heard of the book before. Knowing the Regimbals, though, I knew this would be good. This was a risk for them with immense reward for me. After devouring this book in one day, the Regimbals can buy me a book anytime.

I had never heard of Jensen Karp before I read this book, but now I know that he is engaged to Topanga! Before he fulfilled the fantasies of every dude who grew up in the 90's, he was a white kid from Calabasas trying to make it in the rap game. He started, in fact, when he was 12. He and a buddy performed at some talent shows and other random events, headlining with a song that was basically trash-talking rap youngsters Another Bad Creation (see below...)

That led to a few gigs, then fizzled out. It wasn't until Karp started calling into an LA radio show and competing in rap battles that his future was laid out in front of him. 

Things went well. REALLY well. Until they didn't. And, since you've never heard of his rap alias Hot Karl, you know that his rap career ended without a hit.

This book tells the story of the meteoric rise and subsequent fall of Hot Karl. It speaks of encounters with music royalty (Mya!) and a one-sided feud with actor/singer Tyrese. It also explains the rather sweet story of how Kanye West ended up indebted to him for $300.

It's a quick, funny, enlightening read. If you love 90's rap and hip-hop, that's a bonus. But, you don't have to know the members of the Wu-Tang Clan to appreciate a guy who brings his mom on stage, dressed like Nelly.

Thanks to the Regimbals for taking a chance on buying me this book. The rest of you? Stick to my Good Reads "Books I want to read" list for your future purchases.

Us Against You

You know those books where you have to keep a pen and paper (or iPhone notes app) handy so that you can write down the quotes you find most profound? 

This is that book. You couldn't write them all down if you wanted to.

You know those books where you nearly choke up every 50 pages or so, only to close the book and sob?

Yeah, this is that book, too.

And, it's every one of Fredrik Backman books that I've had the pleasure of reading.

This Swedish author writes so beautifully, so eloquently, you find yourself jumping to the next page, waiting to see if he could possibly keep it up. Backman reaches into your chest on page 1. Then, for the next several hundred pages, he holds your heart in his hands. He'll gently squeeze it from time to time. Then, he'll grip it just enough hard that it breaks. Always, though, you feel that you're respected in the vulnerability you've given over to him. His books are, simply, breathtaking

Us Against You picks up where his book Beartown leaves off (review here.)  I do think you should read that one before this one. He reflects back enough that maybe you wouldn't need to, but I don't know why you wouldn't. The characters he brings into your life deserve two books, at the very least. So, read Beartown, then immediately pick up this book and it's like you never left.

Beartown is a town in the woods, defined by ice hockey. They live and die for what happens between the goals, whether they play the sport or not. It's all that gets them through the dismal winters and the weakening economy. 

In the prequel to this book, a horrific act divides them. People choose sides - and nothing will ever be the same. Us Against You is the aftermath of that act and that division. He goes deeper into the characters we fell in love with in Beartown and gives us insight into some that were only shadows in the first book.

It's a book about sports, about families, about fathers and sons and mothers and daughters. It's about teenage friendships, about the pride we have in the towns we complain about. It's about how small events define our lives. And, it's really fucking beautiful.

I dont want to share too much because I want it to unfold in your hands the way it did mine. I want you to put your heart in Backman's hands and give yourself over to the people of Beartown.

(Then go read all of his other books because they're all damn near close to perfect. Here's my favorite.) 

Circe

She turned Odysseus's men into pigs.

She used magic to transform her enemies.

She was banished into exile.

But, what if she was a hell of a lot more than that?

That's the premise behind Madeline Miller's Circe, which I finished more than a week ago but that has been hanging with me ever since. There's so much here to interpret from Greek mythology that, as all great myths do, has meaning today. As a woman, this one hit home even harder.

I read this immediately after reading Miller's Song of Achilles, which came out quite awhile ago but that I was hesitant to read. You can read my review of that one here. I felt like it made sense to stay within the genre and there was just enough slight crossover between the two that it felt right to read them together.

Like the other, Circe can be criticized as a book that oversimplifies a classic tale. That's what I liked about it, though. It doesn't feel "dumbed down" - it feels accessible. And, though she's a sorceress or a nymph or at the very least a magical witch, it feels relatable, too. Much more than the mythology I tried to read in high school and college.

Circe's a complicated woman, to be sure. She's exiled to an island and relies on her magic to keep herself safe. If you believe in Miller's interpretation, she's widely misunderstood. This book reveals motive behind the magic and the struggles of a woman forced to go it alone, facing danger from nature and from the men who come upon her shores (holy crap, that sentence proves I need to read some non-mythological fare for awhile.) I came to see Circe as strong and weak, as victim and as vulnerable. Like so many women, the outsiders try to see her as one thing or another, not the combination of many.

I read a New York Times interview with the author in which she talks about how "Circe as a character is the embodiment of male anxiety about female power... of course, she has to be vanquished."

By revisiting Circe's story, but this time with Circe recast, you feel her more as a representation of the criticism women face while showing their strength to the world.

This book is long, but not complicated. It's an easy read, in fact. And, it's the kind of story that has made me think more in the days since I finished it about the role of women in literature and culture - and how so much - yet so little - has changed.

Song of Achilles

When I was a freshman in high school, my friends and I made a video adaptation of The Odyssey with what was probably a 20-pound video camera. It involved a toilet, my family's swimming pool and my friend Donna doing a hilarious imitation of the gender-ambiguous character "Pat" from Saturday Night Live.

What does that have to do with anything? Well, that's my last touch with Greek mythology. For that reason, Song of Achilles wasn't on my radar and isn't a book I would naturally pick up off the shelf. In recent months, though, it kept coming up in random articles I read. Then, my insanely smart and well-read co-worker offered to loan it to me. I decided the Fates must be speaking to me and I gave it a shot.

Song of Achilles is a unique take on the Greek figure most of us only know about because of that tendon that bears his name. I remembered a bit about his story, but not a lot. For that reason, I was enthralled from the beginning and wasn't entirely aware that I was being taken on a unique journey.

This book is told not by Achilles, but by Patroclus. Patroclus is exiled as a child and ends up in the care of Achilles' father. The boys become friends in childhood, then become much more than that. Song of Achilles is about the Trojan war, but more than that, it's a love story between these two men. You follow their journey across the seas, all the while knowing, as they do, that a prophecy predicts Achilles' demise.

I predicted this book would be heavy-handed. I thought the mythology would put me off and that I'd never keep the characters straight. Instead, I fell in love with the love story between these two men and followed with them as their hearts grew heavy, knowing that death would end it all. And, I learned that it's possible to have a story with a surprise twist, even when the ending is foretold.

I've read some reviews from very smart New York Times people who hated this book and the romance with which it's told. I'm good with that. Sometimes, it's okay to love the love story and to get lost in it. But, Greek mythology purists whose experience with the genre go beyond high school class projects may not be able to suspend the weight of the original tales to really enjoy it.

As for me, I'm sticking to the genre and tonight will crack Circe - the new book by the same author. I'm about to find out if it's overkill.

Talking to Girls About Duran Duran

Have you seen that meme going around on Facebook this week that says the #1 song on your 14th birthday is the one that defines your life? It turned into an interesting discussion in our newsroom - which mainly served to show most of us how old we are. But, it also reminded us that the songs of our adolescence live forever, deep in the recesses of our hearts. They're the songs that bring you instantly back to a time and place - and, a feeling. There are songs from my teen years that I still can't listen to because they bring back memories of first heartbreak (The Tony Rich Project's Nobody Knows will bring me to my knees every time.) There are songs from college that remind me of late night house parties in dingy basements (Next "Too Close") and songs that remind me of childhood road trips with my family, every summer from Montana to Wisconsin (Kenny Rogers and Anne Murray's Greatest Hits are my mom's go-to JAMS.)

THAT is what Rob Sheffield's book is all about. Our adolescent years, those songs and how they help define who we are.

This is the 3rd of Sheffield's books that I've read and each one is amazing for totally different reasons. One was about music and the sudden loss of his wife. One was about music and his life after that tragedy (my review of that book is here.) This one is about music and life before all of that. Specifically, it's about the music that defined the 80's. The book - like Sheffield - is cool as hell. But, it's also touching and evokes memories in me about things I never lived through. He even dedicates a chapter to the glory that is the cassingle. Look, youngters, you'll never know the pure joy of buying a tape for $1.99 that had one song on each side (especially when those cassingles are TLC's Creep and Nate Dogg and Warren G's Regulate and you just got your license and your first car and FREEDOM.) 

This book is for anyone who lived through the 80s. Truth be told, I'm a tad young for a lot of this, so the David Bowie stuff and even most of Duran Duran is lost on me. But, we get there right around the time he titles a chapter "Funky Cold Medina" - and, his takes on Debbie Gibson transported me back to 4th grade when I had "Foolish Beat" on repeat (and, by "on repeat" I mean "rewinding over and over until my pink boom box finally ate the tape for good.)

I love Rob Sheffield's writing and I love the way he makes me feel about music. ALL of his books are beautiful and evocative and will have you reaching for music you haven't thought about in years, all to chase that feeling. This book had me listening to Kenny Rogers for an entire day, with "Love Will Turn You Around" transporting me back to hot summers in the back seat, somewhere near Bismark, North Dakota.

So, read Rob's books. All of them. And keep your boom box handy relive those sweet, sweet jams.

((Oh, and for the record, the #1 song on my 14th birthday? The one that's supposed to define me? Baby Got Back. Don't you say another word.)) 

The Music Shop

I didn't intend to read two books this weekend. But, as soon as I got one page into Rachel Joyce's The Music Shop, I knew I couldn't stop until it was over.

This is one of those books that crawled into my heart and will reside forever. I finished this book last night and I miss these people. I want to know what they're doing now and what they will do next. I will worry about some of them. That's writing. Oh, and did I mention this book has its own Spotify playlist?

I didn't know anything about this book, but I found it on a list of books to read this summer. My small neighborhood library happened to have it in stock. Once I cracked it open, it was like the book had been waiting on that shelf my whole life, just waiting for me to pick it up.

Did I mention I adore this book?

The Music Shop takes place in a literal music shop in England in 1988. It sits on a ramshackle street, full of misfit shops and shopkeepers. They're a dysfunctional group that you begin rooting for from page one. Frank owns the music shop and refuses to sell CDs. He's vinyl before vinyl became cool again and that dedication is about to become his undoing. But, he has an extraordinary gift for finding you the music you need to listen to, even if you have no idea that you need it. The guy that only likes Chopin and is nursing a broken heart? Frank introduces him to Aretha. He describes classical music like a prize fight. One after another, customers come into the shop and leave enlightened.

Their worlds all turn upside down when a mysterious woman faints outside the shop. Her entrance into their lives is at once sweet and bewildering and we watch from the sidelines, fully invested, as Frank tries to make sense of his feelings for her. Can music bring them together? Can music save Frank? Can optimism save them all?

I feel like I can't say anymore because it's too precious and sweet and I don't want to ruin it. Just read it. Open your heart to these misfits. Keep your phone handy because you have to hear some of these songs the way Frank describes them. And, prepare to be smitten and engaged and frustrated and sad and uplifted.

House of Broken Angels

Big Angel is ready to die.

But first... First, he has to bury his mother, hold a massive birthday celebration, repent for his sins and reunite his family.

Seems daunting, right?

It's also a hell of a plot for a book.

I picked up House of Broken Angels after reading that one of my favorite authors (the amazing Jess Walter) was reading it. Now, I can't find where I read that and I might have confused it with someone else. Either way, I checked it out from the library with zero expectations. I was so pleasantly surprised.

While I loved the writing and the larger-than-life characters (from Big Angel to his younger half-brother Little Angel - the names are another story altogether), this book started a bit slow for me. I kept getting the characters confused and it just wasn't picking up for me in the beginning. Then, I found out it was due back at the library, so I knew I needed to buckle down and get into it. Once I did, the pages flew.

Ultimately, it's a story about family and culture and, especially, the mixed cultures in America now that have some generations feeling as though they're straddling two entirely different worlds. In this case, Big Angel is also straddling the world of the living and the world of the dead. He knows he's about to die and welcomes it at times; then, he sees his family swirling around him and desperately wants to hold on.

The characters are rich, the setting is vibrant and I found myself grinning those final few pages. The writing here is beautiful, too.

It's a fantastic read with a cleavage-escaping parrot at the end that you have to read about to believe. This book reads like a movie in all the best ways.