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In this short work, Hamel writes succinctly and humorously about the an unsettling event for the citizens of ancient Athens--the night that most of the herms (priapic statues of the Greek god Hermes)were vandalized. Hamel explains why this incident was important and gives an interesting account of the both the response of Athens and the possible reasons for the vandalism. This is a quick and fascinating read, which is happily accessible to the layperson.

The Penelopiad is a retelling of the Iliad and the Odyssey from Penelope's point of view. It is told in first person by Penelope, thousands of years after the event as she drifts through Hades, and by the twelve maids who serve as a sort of Greek chorus, telling their version in a variety of ways from poetry to rhyme to courtroom drama. Atwood turns the traditional story of Odysseus around on it's ear, when she makes Penelope the center of the tale. New angles and possibilities arise, both from Penelope's telling and from the accusations of the maids. Odysseus's twenty year absence becomes, not a rousing adventure tale, but a burdensome trial for a wife to bear and Atwood skillfully takes the reader through a spectrum of emotions as Penelope and the maids deal with this ordeal. A knowledge of Greek mythology and Homer's original tale is a must to appreciate the changes, both subtle and dramatic, that Atwood has made. Without that background, I doubt the reader would find any enjoyment in this novel. Atwood's talent is clear in The Penelopiad as she deftly uses a variety of narrative styles. The result is a retelling that is at times shocking in it's difference, and believable enough to become entangled with the original, leaving the reader questioning.

In the Garden of Beasts is an amazing book. It is a nonfiction account that reads with the ease and entertainment of a good novel. When I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it. When I was reading it, I was engrossed. Larson uses letters, journals and papers to tell the story of William Dodd, U.S. Ambassador to Germany in the thirties, of his daughter (Martha), and of Hitler's rise viewed through their eyes. Martha, socialite and party to many romantic escapades, found herself in a position to garner information that the Ambassador couldn't know and become the center of several intrigues herself. As for Ambassador Dodd, as he became more disillusioned with (and ultimately more fully aware of) Hitler's Germany, he became more of an outcast with the "in crowd" of the State Department, creating an entirely different, but important, conspiracy of sorts. Despite knowing the ultimate outcome of the Dodds' adventure, In the Garden of Beasts is still a page turner and thoroughly fascinating. It was with reluctance that I turned the last page, and said good bye to these people that had consumed my mind so completely. Larson's apparently has the ability to write a biographical account in such a way that makes it more enjoyable than most fiction. (I've not read The Devil in the White City, but that has been moved to the top of my to-read list.) I can not recommend this enough, regardless of your interest in the subject. My initial interest was not high, but I came away with new understanding and knowledge of the time period, US and German politics, and ultimately, human nature. In the Garden of Beasts is a must read.

When Oryx and Crake first opens, the reader meets the narrator (Snowman) and is immediately aware that there has been a disaster of gigantic proportions. The information about Snowman's past and this event trickle slowly, through his reflections and memories, at first more tantalizing and mysterious than informational and explanatory. By the time Oryx and Crake is finished, everything has become crystal clear for the reader, through a delightful process of hints, deductions and knowledge told outright, and then Atwood laughs at the self-satisfied reader with yet another conundrum as it ends. If you have read The Handmaid's Tale then you are familiar with this particular delicious style of Atwood's. Oryx and Crake delivers a fully satisfying, if often unsettling, reading experience. I can't say that I "enjoyed" all of the novel, as the pre-apocalyptic world of Oryx and Crake is one not so much an alternate reality but a possible future was unnerving to me. Kiddie porn sites and snuff films are common viewing material for even young teens. The division between classes has become such that the elite live in guarded compounds which are like small cities. Personal freedoms have been lost, or more accurately, cheerfully given up; scientific discovery, often frightening and unnatural, has become the most important advancement for society. Probably the scariest part of the book is the close resemblance to our current society, and the question that poses of just how easy would it be to find ourselves in that situation, led their by the banner of "progress". Oryx and Crake is a thrilling, terrifying and often uncomfortable read. It is not for the faint of heart or apathetic of mind, but makes excellent material for much thought and discussion.

J. R. Ward's novels are my guilty pleasure. I don't care for romance novels, and I had to have my arm twisted by a friend to agree to try the first one. Once I did, though, I was hooked. Ward has created an alternate reality that is at once believable and mind blowing. She changed the vampire mythology just enough to make it fresh, and was able to back up her changes credibly. Her characters are generally multifaceted, flawed and alive and she manages to weave intricate plots around the Brotherhood and their world that keep the reader interested until the very end You know it has to be good if, despite the romance and sex elements, my husband and I both wait impatiently to read the latest installment. Her writing, her world and the deep appeal of the characters is just that good. And then came Lover Unleashed. In this series, each book focuses on the love interest on one of the Brotherhood (Rhev being the exception) and, as the series has progressed, spends equal time dealing with various other issues going on with the other Brothers, the vampire community, or the fight with the lessers. Lover Unleashed is different in that the focus is on a female this time--V's twin, Payne--but spends almost equal time rehashing issues with V as well. Payne's romance with Manny was nice, but nothing earth shaking. I had been expecting Manny back since V's story, and enjoyed the well-played irony of it. Sadly, the strong and interesting Payne first seen in the previous book, did a reprisal of Cormia's role and was a wide-eyed innocent, blushing and bashful, excited by everything around her, with only rare glimpses of the powerful female she had seemed to be. Manny's treatment was almost identical to Butch's revere and careful treatment of Marissa. Not a bad thing, of course, but stale. Then there was the whole "Sexual Healing" business between them that was really pretty silly. I was reminded of when Laurel K. Hamilton quit writing plots and started writing sex scenes with some dialog in between (the last of those I tried to read, several years ago, I literally threw across the room in disgust). This silliness is what I would expect from Hamilton, not from a writer with Ward's talent. The plot recycling didn't stop there, unfortunately, nor did the disappointments. With V and his inability to deal with the stress around him, he imitates both Z and Phury from previous novels, and his and Jane's marital difficulties strongly resemble the emotional difficulties experienced by Z and Bella. As for the resolution. . . while I was glad it was all resolved, I wasn't so keen on the way it got there. I felt kind of icky as a result of reading some of it. Qhuinn reacts to his heartbreak in a manner not unlike Z's early behavior. Of course, I was only half reading that. By now, the Blay/Qhuinn drama is old and boring and should have been ended at least one book ago, if not two. And she expects us to put up with it longer? Great. I must say, though, that the introduction was a great short story and I was very interested to see what happens to the new character, Xcor, that she introduced with that story. It sounds like I didn't enjoy Lover Unleashed, but to a certain extent I did, certainly as much as an average 3 star fluff novel. I read it in two days, all 500+ pages of it, and found parts of the conclusion satisfying. I especially liked the brief looks into the lives of the Brothers--Rhage making popcorn, for example--and wished that there had been more of this kind of exchange. Ward still has the ability to juggle multiple plot lines with ease, and there were still flashes of the humor and verve that makes her books so fun. On the whole, though, there just wasn't enough life and sparkle to Lover Unleashed. It fell flat in so many ways. I've grown to care about these characters, to admire Ward's writing, and to look forward to each new release. Lover Unleashed simply didn't live up to the expectations I have for Ward, for her talent and her abilities. The first several books in this series were stellar, top notch all the way, but I've been seeing a gradual decline in the quality. I worry, seeing the plot lines being recycled, that she is running out of ideas, or perhaps spreading herself too thin, what with both sets of novels under this pseudonym and the others she writes as Jessica Bird. I fear that she'll do what Hamilton did and give up writing plots all together and trust her name and her sex scenes to sell the books. I hope next year's book will prove me wrong. If not, it will be my last

There are two stories, told simultaneously in American Vampire. The first, Snyder's part of the novel, is the story of Pearl trying to make her way in Hollywood during the 1920's. Pearl falls victim to a vampire attack and a strange man vampire, Skinner Sweet, helps her out. Sort of. Pearl seeks revenge, thanks to Sweet's gift, and the reader watches her go from lovely, gentle flapper one moment to disgustingly grotesque and violent the next--and cheers for her the whole way. The story that begins with the second chapter is written by Stephen King, and is Skinner Sweet's back story, taking place some forty years early in the Wild West. Through it, the reader finds out how and why Sweet became a vampire, and what is motivating him--and what makes an American Vampire different from the European vampires. As is to be expected, a hard new country like the United States creates a hard new kind of vampire. In addition, he writes an excellent introduction, validating the graphic novel as a medium. A very good read for those not convinced that it is a legitimate literary medium. The stories are told alternating, first a chapter about Pearl, then a chapter about Sweet, so that they finish up together in the last two chapters. It may sound awkward, but the back-and-forth flow was actually excellent, with a certain amount of parallels between the two stories. Both Snyder and King write a good story, with solid characters, riveting plot lines and some terrifying instances. Albuquereque brings it all to life with his drawings, full of bold lines and brilliant colors and lots of scary bits and gore. His vampires are frightening and horrible and they do unspeakable (but not undrawable) things to their victims. As the reader takes in the background, and sees the horror of the scenes, at times it's enough to turn the stomach. On the other hand, his ladies are very lovely, he drew some strong heroes and used some very effective, unusual angles and compositions. As for Skinner Sweet. . . well, darn it, despite King's introduction all about how American Vampire reclaims the evil vampire from the sexy mold it's been placed in of late, Albuquereque draws Sweet as rather desirable. Even seeing Sweet at his worst, I could turn the page and see him turn on the charm and forget just how evil he really was--and then be whammed again by his horrible actions. I think that was the artist's intent: another way to show just how dangerous these American vampires are. The collaboration between these three was wonderful and produced a story both haunting and satisfying. American Vampire does reclaim the vampire from it's present fictional state, and successfully gives it new blood with this new American breed. I look forward to following Sweet's further adventures in American history, with pleasant trepidation because I expect the story will be creepy and icky but sensational, just like this volume.

(Review based on reading ARC.) Subtitled "a tale of terror and temptation", Juniper Berry is a modern day fairy tale. Our heroine is the brave preteen, Juniper Berry. Juniper is the daughter of film actors, who have become very famous over the course of the past few years. The more famous they have become, the more odd they have acted and the more they have distanced themselves from her. She is sad and lonely and would willingly give up everything to have her old life back. One day she spots a boy about her age, trespassing in her woods. Over the course of conversation with her new friend, she discovers that his parents, too, are famous and distant. Even worse: Giles has seen them doing something very odd in Juniper's woods. Piecing together the unthinkable, Juniper and Giles set out to save their parents from whatever influence is causing this behavior. What they discover changes them both, and Juniper faces tough choices, terrible temptation, but comes through a true fairy tale heroine. Juniper Berry is told from an omniscient narrator and occasionally uses words that I feel are probably not in the vocabulary of a 9-12 year old. This happens early in the book, though, and the narration evens out as the story builds. It has a good pace, and the story unfolds smoothly. The characters of Juniper and Giles are particularly appealing, making their weaknesses seem all the more vulnerable and believable. Juniper's parents are truly horrible, and the reader is able to feel Juniper's mix of hurt and confusion, making the redemption of said parents even sweeter. Like most fairy tales, Juniper Berry has a moral, and it is spelled out very plainly at the end by the wood chopper (yes, there IS a wood chopper, told you this is a fairy tale!), Dmitri: "There will always be temptation, wherever we go in life, with whatever we do. There will always be an easier way out. But there's nothing to gain from that. We have to overcome such urges; we have to be stronger. I fought hard and won." While the moral of this story is a good one, it came across a bit preachy to me. I felt like this moral of resisting temptation and winning as a result was obvious from Juniper's actions and didn't need to be spelled out. However, I am not one of the targeted age-group; I am an adult reader. This was Kozlowsky's first novel, and overall he did well. There are a few things (namely vocabulary and blatant moralizing) that I think could be improved, and I expect will be improved with his next publication. I hope he is published again soon, and would look forward to reading another of his fairy tales.

Marie Corelli was a highly popular writer of sensational novels in the Victorian era. She combined high melodrama with an attempt to reconcile Christianity with reincarnation, astral project and other spiritual aspects not generally associated with Christianity. With Ziska, Corelli uses the medium of novel writing as a vehicle for just that crusade. The plot of Ziska takes place in the British society's "Season" in Cairo. According to Corelli, t is just the same as the London Season, only with slightly looser morals, giving the greater opportunity to find husbands for daughters past their prime on the marriage market. The Princess Ziska has appeared on the scene, and taken this tight community by storm. Nothing is known about her, except that she is unusually beautiful and has stolen the hearts of all the young men, the Scottish laird Denzil Murray in particular. When Murray's best friend, the famous French painter Armand Gervase, arrives in Cairo, complications arise. Gervase immediately falls for Ziska, makes no pretense that he (unlike Murray) does not have pure intentions, and feels that he knows her from somewhere. Marie Corelli Murray's mentor and friend, Dr. Maxwell Dean acts as the mouthpiece for Corelli's unconvetional spiritual beliefs, and through him the reader begins to see that there is something not quite human and Ziska and that she and Gervase are somehow destined to be together. A good portion of this novel is given over to soliloquy in which Corelli expresses her opinion about various things. The first 21 pages, for example, are a roast of the British tourist in Egypt, and of how said tourist wants to make all foreign lands into another version of England. It made for amusing reading, but I did begin to wonder if I had stumbled onto a book of essays instead of a novel. The rest of the book is much taken up with much discussion of reincarnation and of a slightly different take on Christianity. It was interesting the first time, but Corelli has her characters discuss this time and again, and for paragraphs and pages, and by the end, I was skimming large parts of conversations. The actual storyline was rather thrilling, in the way of a Victorian sensational novel, despite the fact that Dr. Dean spells it out for the reader several times. Had it not been for his "spoilers" and for the recurring, yawn-inducing philosophizing, this would have been a rather good read. There was drama and humor and emotion, as well as interesting characters, but there was just way too much laborious, stilted conversations about spiritualism that kept interrupting the flow and made Ziska a struggle to finish.

A Red Herring Without Mustard is the third in Bradley's series about the precocious Flavia de Luce, a pre-teen chemistry savant growing up in a small English village in the 1950's. Flavia is an engaging character, and she charmed me immediately when I read her first adventure, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. The novels are told from Flavia's point of view, and her voice is at once amusing and real. Her appeal has not diminished in this third novel, and it is pure reading pleasure to see what mischief she will create. In A Red Herring Without Mustard, Flavia finds yet another dead body and sets off to solve the mystery before her frenemies from the police can. As is usual with Flavia, she withholds evidence, generally gets in the way and succeeds in a spectacular manner. The tension between Flavia and her sisters heats up considerably in this novel. Not having siblings myself, I don't know if it's typical to be quite as brutal in pranks and revenge as the de Luce sisters are. It is funny at times, but also very sad as these girls react in various ways to growing older without their mother. Flavia's relationship with her father begins to subtly change, a very welcome development, and makes for some beautiful moments. I did have two qualms about A Red Herring Without Mustard. First, was the location of a certain bit of the theft. (I think I can safely say that without spoiling any of the plot.) It was difficult for me to believe that anyone would choose a location with such a high chance of being seen, where one so obviously did not belong. For me, this weakened the plot a bit, but there was enough strengths that I could overlook it relatively easily. My second concern is the number of dead bodies that Flavia keeps finding. If she finds one a book, it won't be long before the entire village is dead. And if, as has been the case, Bradley keeps bringing in characters from out of town to kill, the series will quickly loose both it's appeal and it's validity. The similarity between A Red Herring Without Mustard and The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, for instance, is rather great (Flavia befriends a stranger from out of town and solves a new character's murder) on the surface. One wonders if perhaps Flavia might not need to take a vacation from corpses and turn to general crime instead? Overall, A Red Herring Without Mustard is a charming, "cozy" mystery that invokes the feeling of different time and place in such a way as to make me want to visit. Flavia is an endearing heroine and, despite my mild complaints, I look forward to reading her adventures and following her as she grows up and matures. Note: This is the third in the series and to get full enjoyment from it, the series should be read in order.

I read Madame Bovary twenty years ago and was thoroughly unimpressed. I passed it off as one of those "classics" that everyone reads, for some reason, but no one really enjoys. Then, in October I heard a review of Davis' newly published translation, and how she endeavored to keep to Flaubert's deliberate and precise style. I was fascinated. I had never considered that the reason I didn't like the novel, was due to the translation. I read Davis' translation with a copy of a previous translation at hand, making comparisons. I was amazed at what a difference just a word could make, how it could change the whole feeling of the sentence. Thanks to Davis, I was able to immerse myself in Flaubert's painstaking, detailed writing and come away in awe of his ability to turn a phrase. The plot of Madame Bovary is familiar to many: Emma is a spoiled, vain young woman who spends too much time with her head in novels and, as a result, expects--no demands!--that life, romance especially, be like it is in her books. After her marriage, she becomes depressed that there is no "grand passion", and this leads to restlessness and eventually to affairs. Her husband, Charles, is blind to Emma's dissatisfaction, flaws and infidelity; he worships her very belongings. Emma takes advantage of Charles' love-blindness in a variety of ways, including running up a debt so severe that it bankrupts him. In the midst of all this drama, Flaubert has the reader stand back, just slightly emotionally detached. One can't feel fully compassionate for Charles, because Flaubert shows him as a buffoon and sometimes as an idiot. One can't sympathize with Emma, because Flaubert delights in holding her vices up to the light. He also interjects bits of every day life from the townspeople, as another way to keep the reader from being overly focused on the crises of the Bovarys, and he paints all the working class with a brush laden with boorishness, and the upper class as heavy handed snobs. It's hard not to feel superior to many of these characters, and I believe that was Flaubert's intention--to keep the reader from forming an attachment to any character and thereby keeping the book from being a "moral tale". There is no moral here, it simply is. It's rare to say that a book with a disagreeable plot is fantastic, but if the writer is good enough no matter what the subject (think Nabokov and his Lolita), the reader will be swept away by the sheer force of the words. This is the case with Flaubert and Madame Bovary--thanks to Davis' excellent translation. If you've ever tried to read it and failed, or wanted to read it and just haven't, now is the time. Other translators did an injustice to Flaubert. Lydia Davis has redeemed this masterpiece for the English language.

On the most basic level, Veils is a story of a Victorian British gentlewoman coming to the Orient with her husband. Once there, she is invited to meet the ladies of the local Sultan's harem. Through this experience, she learns new truths about herself, her husband, even her basic beliefs. There is also a story-within-a-story in Veils. While Vivian is visiting the harem, she is told the story of another European lady, and her adventure in a harem. This tale is told in a style quite different from Vivian's story, and gives an added dimension to the novel as a whole. On a deeper level, this is a story about veils, both literal and figurative, and the positive and negative impact of the various veils that are worn throughout life. It is very thought provoking to look back at the story, after reading, and find the many instances of veils, and to think about veils in one's own life. Veils is a novel told in both traditional graphic art style (drawn) and with photographs and computer graphics. The traditional art is simply stunning, done in a dreamy style with soft colors, with frames shaped into designs that fit the harem style so beautifully. Vivian's story is told in actual photographs, with CG backgrounds. While original (and for 1998, most certainly so), this is the weak link of the novel. The composition of the photos is fantastic, the models do a wonderful job of showing emotions, and the use of shading and effects is well done. But the photos are so new and crisp, that they fail to convey the feeling of the Victorian age. They feel fake and therefore appear what they are--photo ops of models in Victorian era clothing--rather than looking like scenes from a Victorian adventure. Each frame is jarring, reminding the reader that this is not really happening, and absolute immersion in the story is impossible. Except for that flaw, Veils is an interesting story with strong social and gender issues, and the reader is left with much food for thought. Note: this novel does contain images of marital and consensual sex and discussion of same sex relationships.

Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes is narrated by high school senior, Eric Calhoune. Back in grade school, he and Sarah Byrnes became best friends because they were both outcasts: she had suffered disfiguring burns on her face and hands, and he was the fattest kid in school. They banded together and, thanks mainly to the caustic wit of Sarah Byrnes, were able to survive all the bullying. (Yes, she is always called Sarah Byrnes, at her own demand; she became tired of all those who thought they were so witty making jokes about her appearance and her name and to cut it off before they had a chance, demanded everyone call her by both names at all times.) The summer before they started high school, the swim coach discovered Eric and drafted him for the swim team. Eric promised his best friend that nothing would come between them, not even if he lost weight swimming. He was so terrified that Sarah Byrnes would think he was leaving her behind, that their partnership of uglies would be over, that his first year of swimming, he ate twice as much as ever so he could stay fat for her, even while swimming. Finally Sarah Byrnes called him on it and as a result, by his senior year he's no longer fat. Then comes the day that Sarah Byrnes doesn't get out of her desk when the bell rings. Finally, men have to come and carry her to an ambulance and take her to the children's mental ward and that is really when Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes begins. Eric feels like his life is in limbo without Sarah Byrnes, but as he begins to get to the bottom of her problem, he finds so much more than he bargained for. Though it may not sound like it from this synopses, Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes is a riveting, moving novel. These characters are living and breathing people and their decisions and emotions become all absorbing during reading. The plot takes various twists and turns, but nearly always in a realistic way, with believable consequences. Though it is often funny, this is is no light read. Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes brings up such issues as bullying, abuse, abortion, teen sex, religion, the ethics in a friendship, and teen suicide. Were I a parent, I would want to read it first, to be sure if my young teen could handle the seriousness of parts of this book. For an older "young adult", though, or for an adult, I recommend this book unhesitatingly. It is the kind of thought provoking book that will consume you while reading, and for days afterward, and I walked away from it glad I had read it. No, more than that, I walked away BETTER for having read it.

The story of Locke & Key Volume 2: Head Games follows the Locke children from volume one (Welcome to Lovecraft) and picks up right where that volume ended. The youngest, Bode, has found another strange key. The discovery of what the key opens is stranger still. Ty and a reluctant Kinsey include their new friend Zach in on this discovery, never realizing that doing so is creating more danger for them, their family, and the residents of Lovecraft. The volume ends with some questions answered and more questions posed--and with the reader eager to read the next installment. Hill's storytelling remains fantastic. He continues to tell back story and currently story simultaneously with no glitches. The Locke children are well rounded characters with believable reactions and emotions. Supporting characters, such as Ellie and Rufus, are fleshed out well and become important to the reader. The fiendish enemy is so full of personality that he puzzles and charms the reader, just as he does to the Locke family. Head Games is a much less gruesome tale, more fantasy than horror, than the previous one, and reads just as quickly and smoothly. Rodriguez contributes immensely to the flow of the narrative, as well as telling much of the story with the art. The placement of panels, the focus of certain elements in the panels, and the color and style of the art in general is often original and always perfect for the story. His ability to display human emotions so effectively is amazing; there is never any question as to what the characters are thinking or feeling. With Locke & Key Volume 2: Head Games , Hill and Rodriguez present another five star collaboration.

The story of Locke & Key Volume 2: Head Games follows the Locke children from volume one (Welcome to Lovecraft) and picks up right where that volume ended. The youngest, Bode, has found another strange key. The discovery of what the key opens is stranger still. Ty and a reluctant Kinsey include their new friend Zach in on this discovery, never realizing that doing so is creating more danger for them, their family, and the residents of Lovecraft. The volume ends with some questions answered and more questions posed--and with the reader eager to read the next installment. Hill's storytelling remains fantastic. He continues to tell back story and currently story simultaneously with no glitches. The Locke children are well rounded characters with believable reactions and emotions. Supporting characters, such as Ellie and Rufus, are fleshed out well and become important to the reader. The fiendish enemy is so full of personality that he puzzles and charms the reader, just as he does to the Locke family. Head Games is a much less gruesome tale, more fantasy than horror, than the previous one, and reads just as quickly and smoothly. Rodriguez contributes immensely to the flow of the narrative, as well as telling much of the story with the art. The placement of panels, the focus of certain elements in the panels, and the color and style of the art in general is often original and always perfect for the story. His ability to display human emotions so effectively is amazing; there is never any question as to what the characters are thinking or feeling. With Locke & Key Volume 2: Head Games , Hill and Rodriguez present another five star collaboration.

(Review based on reading ARC.) Something Different About Dad is a both a nonfiction and fiction illustrated resource with an intended audience of children aged 7 to 15 that have an adult in their life with Asperger Syndrome. It is designed in a style similar to the graphic novel, with friendly monochrome illustrations and a handwritten type of font. The preface introduces the author and illustrator as guides to the story, and gives a brief explanation of what the book will be about: "Whether or not you know for sure that the person you are thinking of has Asperger Syndrome, we hope this book will help. We hope it will help you answer some of the questions you might have and give you some ideas about how to deal with parents or other adults with Asperger Syndrome." Something Different About Dad certainly lives up to this expectation. It is essentially a story told by a preteen named Sophie, whose father (Mark) has Asperger Syndrome ("AS"). Each chapter begins with Sophie describing an incident in their family life that has led to difficulties for Mark, and as a result, to embarrassment, emotional pain and misunderstanding for the family. After the incident is recounted by Sophie, with illustrations that do a fantastic job of showing the emotions that each person is experiencing, Kirsti and John appear in the chapter to explain what caused Mark to act as he did. Ms. Evans, whose experience with Autism and AS is obviously not in name only, does a wonderful job of explaining just what AS is, the four main areas that difficulties occur for persons with AS, and what can trigger the socially unacceptable behavior. It is explained with clarity and in detail, and yet is not overwhelming with all the factual information. After picking apart the situation to find the antecedent to Mark's behavior, Kirsti and John then speak to the various family members, giving advice on how to lessen the frustration of a situation for Mark. The family then talks about what changes they have made and how these changes have reduced that type of behavior from Mark. Despite addressing such serious issues as anger toward the parent with AS, having one's feelings hurt deeply by the parent with AS and frustration at having to arrange schedules around that parent instead of oneself, the book ends on a very positive and hopeful note. My only complaint about the book was that Mark was not generally held accountable for his behavior or asked to work on reducing his reactions. After I pondered on this, however, I realized that the book is geared for children who would not have the right to ask for such changes from an adult, who would only be able to make changes in their own life to help, and therefore showing such a situation would not be appropriate. Swooger's illustrations fit the story and the information very well. I not only work with young children that have Autism and AS, but have AS myself, and I thought his he caught the expressions of situations very well. I was particularly impressed with the way he showed conversations going on around Mark, and how overwhelming it was to have some much going on. I found it interesting that he drew Mark with blank eyes, different from everyone else; I'm not sure if it was meant to simply show a difference in how Mark looked at the world, but I rather uncomfortably interpreted it to be a blank stare and didn't find that to be as appropriate as the rest of the illustrations. I think this book would be an excellent resource for children with adults, or even other children, in their life with AS. Regardless of the book's language being geared toward a younger age group, it is also an excellent resource for adults who are experiencing the effects of AS in their life.

In Among Others, the focus is less on fantasy and more on the magic of books and reading. We went down the hill to the bookshop, sort of automatically, as if that's the way our feet wanted to turn. I said that to them. "Bibliotrophic," Hugh said. "Like sunflowers are heliotrophic, they naturally turn toward the sun. We naturally turn toward the bookshop." It is 1979. Mori is a Welsh teenager who has run away from her crazy mother and as a result has been sent to live with her father in England. She attends a boarding school, where she is very much the outcast, and fills her journal with discussions of books and authors and wistful wishes for friends. When she joins a book club at the local library and finds kindred spirits among other readers, she finds a new joy in life. Written in the first person point of view, as a journal, the lyrical and well written prose of Among Others is a joy to read. Walton has great talent at turning an ordinary world into a magical one through her descriptions and narration. All the discussions of authors that I've read and not read was also a delight. I laughed over discussions of books familiar to me, hearing myself in those discussions. Furthermore, I've now got a list of others to read, based on Mori's insights, that I might not have read otherwise. Oddly enough--I am a fan of fantasy fiction--the fantasy element was difficult for me to enjoy. Walton painted her world so real and mundane, that when the fantasy elements were interjected, it felt like an imposition, as if she had torn apart the fabric of this world and sewn in a piece from another world. It didn't mesh properly. For me, the magic was Mori's life in books. The fairy magic almost seemed pretend, and I honestly felt cheated at times when the story moved from the "real world" discussion of Mori's friends and fiction addiction to Mori's dealing with the paranormal. I wouldn't recommend this book across the board, to all bibliophile or all fantasy/sci fi readers. I think it's only going to find it's niche with those who are both devout bibliophiles as well as being fans of sci fi and fantasy novels. This was my first time reading a novel by Jo Walsh, but it certainly will not be my last. If her other novels are as well written, I may have found a new favorite author.

This is a selection of five short stories with the common theme of unhappy marriage. As they are all five written during the Victorian era, they give the reader a good picture of what was and was not considered tolerable by social mores in a marriage of that day. For that historical purpose alone, there is much value to reading this collection. Some of the stories are particularly well written as well, though, given the collection even more merit. THE BRONCKHORST DIVORCE-CASE By Rudyard Kipling (published 1884) 1/5 stars "Bronckhorst was not nice in any way. He had no respect for the pretty public and private lies that make life a little less nasty than it is." Mr. Bronckhorst was verbally ugly to his devoted wife, making her life a misery and degrading anything that gave her pleasure. When another officer, Biel, is kind to his wife in public, Bronckhorst bribes his servants to give false testimony and takes Biel to criminal court for dallying with his wife. His friends call a man they known named Strickland to come and take care of the situation with the native servants, which he does, and Bronckhorst hasn't a shred of contrived evidence left. Mrs. Bronckhorst stays devoted to her husband and they leave India and return to England. I can't help but think that the character of Strickland must have been known from other stories, because otherwise his appearance and working of miracles makes no sense. As it is, without any background knowledge, this is a very weak story. The marital dynamics are glossed over and the entire point seems to be about Strickland's genius. With the exception of a few well written lines, like the one quoted, it is a very unimpressive story. IRREMEDIABLE By Ella D'Arcy (published 1893) 5/5 stars "Every affront or grievance, real or imaginary, since the day she and Willoughby had first met, she poured forth with a fluency due to frequent repetition, for, with the exception of today's added injuries, Willoughby had heard the whole litany many times before." This is a well written story from beginning to end. D'Arcy describes her characters and their emotions effortlessly and intimately. The plot is gripping and emotional. The reader watches as Willoughby makes the mistake that will cost him his happiness, an inappropriate marriage, but D'Arcy's writing keeps the reader still hopeful til the last heart wrenching sentence. After reading this story, I most certainly am going to search for more of her work. 'A POOR STICK' By Arthur Morrison (published 1894) 4/5 stars This story is a quite different from Morrison's detective fiction (Martin Hewitt, Investigator) and shows an emotional range I would not have expected, having read the other first. Mrs. Jennings is a no-good woman who doesn't keep house or take care of the children and is often off drinking. Mr. Jennings "never grew out of his courtship-blindness" and wouldn't hear bad spoken of her; he just came home from work and did her duties as well as his own. His devastation when she runs off is sad to see, and Morrison does an excellent job of portraying the broken man. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE By Arthur Conan Doyle (published 1897) 3/5 stars This is another of those Holmes tales where the great detective solves this, that and the other through his knowledge of things like train schedules and wine vintages. While I admire Doyle's often complex mysteries, his way of solving them has always been annoying. The marriage element enters through the victim and his widow. He is found dead and she states that thieves broke in, tied her up and bashed in her husband's head. Holmes not only comes to the truth of the matter, but chooses to play the part of the law as well. It's an average story, with the solution no surprise except for how Holmes gathers and deduces his evidence, generally unknown to the reader. THE PRIZE LODGER By George Gissing (published 1898) 4/5 stars This short story is a study of vanity and it's effects. Gissing, while not using a lot of detail, still gives a solid picture of both parties, and Mr. Jordan's emotions in particular. The ending is somewhat amusing, as Jordan has to face his vanity and accept a solution that is destructive to his ego.

Room is told in the first person point of view by Jack, who just turned five years old on the day the book opened. Today I'm five. I was four last night going to sleep in Wardrobe, but when I wake up in Bed in the dark I'm changed to five, abracadabra. Jack lives alone with his mother, and as he is her only companion and source of conversation, he has an advanced vocabulary and conversation skills which are obvious from his narration. Also because his mother ("Ma") is his only source of information about the world, except for minimal television, his is unusually naive and at times backward for his age. Donoghue does an excellent job giving Jack a voice that is at once believable and emotionally stirring. Through Jack's eyes we view his world: one room and Ma. He narrates an average day (though a bit different as it's his birthday) for the reader, not realizing that there is anything unusual about the way his days play out. The reader however, sees what Jack doesn't: that Ma is making enormous sacrifices to keep Jack's world as "normal" as possible. I don't want to spoil it by telling much of the plot, beyond what might be read on the blurb, but I will say that reading this I am reminded of Roberto Benigni's Life is Beautiful, in that a parent is making enormous sacrifices that the child never sees, and is able to live somewhat normally and happily as a result. Room is five chapters, but essentially three parts. First, Jack gives a picture of daily life. Heartbreaking for the reader, matter of fact for him, as he tells about the things he and Ma do during an average day. Without realizing it, he shows Ma as a woman struggling with mental illness, doing the best she can to hold it together for her son, while he is an exuberant, generally happy, nearly typical five year old, doing five year old things. The second part of the book is when Jack and Ma leave Room for Outside. This is very traumatic for them both, in differing ways. Jack has never been Outside or seen other people and the sensory overload is well told in his voice, as is Ma's attempts to stay mentally strong while suffering with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome--though through his eyes the experience looks quite different. The last part of the book is the triumphant finale. It is again beautifully told through Jack's voice as he and Ma succeed in be "scrave" (brave even though scared) and life begins fresh for them. I have seen many negative comments, written about such trifling things, that I was shocked. Room is the most fantastic book I have read in some time; definitely the best I've read in 2011, but possibly the best I've read in 2010 as well. It is heartbreaking at times, yes, but it is also such a hopeful book, a book of triumph and love. I highly recom

Room is told in the first person point of view by Jack, who just turned five years old on the day the book opened. Today I'm five. I was four last night going to sleep in Wardrobe, but when I wake up in Bed in the dark I'm changed to five, abracadabra. Jack lives alone with his mother, and as he is her only companion and source of conversation, he has an advanced vocabulary and conversation skills which are obvious from his narration. Also because his mother ("Ma") is his only source of information about the world, except for minimal television, his is unusually naive and at times backward for his age. Donoghue does an excellent job giving Jack a voice that is at once believable and emotionally stirring. Through Jack's eyes we view his world: one room and Ma. He narrates an average day (though a bit different as it's his birthday) for the reader, not realizing that there is anything unusual about the way his days play out. The reader however, sees what Jack doesn't: that Ma is making enormous sacrifices to keep Jack's world as "normal" as possible. I don't want to spoil it by telling much of the plot, beyond what might be read on the blurb, but I will say that reading this I am reminded of Roberto Benigni's Life is Beautiful, in that a parent is making enormous sacrifices that the child never sees, and is able to live somewhat normally and happily as a result. Room is five chapters, but essentially three parts. First, Jack gives a picture of daily life. Heartbreaking for the reader, matter of fact for him, as he tells about the things he and Ma do during an average day. Without realizing it, he shows Ma as a woman struggling with mental illness, doing the best she can to hold it together for her son, while he is an exuberant, generally happy, nearly typical five year old, doing five year old things. The second part of the book is when Jack and Ma leave Room for Outside. This is very traumatic for them both, in differing ways. Jack has never been Outside or seen other people and the sensory overload is well told in his voice, as is Ma's attempts to stay mentally strong while suffering with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome--though through his eyes the experience looks quite different. The last part of the book is the triumphant finale. It is again beautifully told through Jack's voice as he and Ma succeed in be "scrave" (brave even though scared) and life begins fresh for them. I have seen many negative comments, written about such trifling things, that I was shocked. Room is the most fantastic book I have read in some time; definitely the best I've read in 2011, but possibly the best I've read in 2010 as well. It is heartbreaking at times, yes, but it is also such a hopeful book, a book of triumph and love. I highly recom

The hero of Heart-Shaped Box is Jude Coyne, a middle-aged metal-rock star with a fascination for the morbid which shows itself, not only in his music, but also in his collection of creepy curios. When he sees a ghost being auctioned on the internet, he knows he has to have it for his collection. If it's a real ghost, cool; if it's not, it's still good press. The seller states that she will send the buyer her stepdad's suit, because that is what the ghost seems to be clinging to, in the expectation that the ghost will follow the suit. The suit arrives. All hell breaks loose. Hill's supernatural thriller is intense and frightening in the first section as the ghost makes his plans known to Jude--so much so that I often felt the pound of my heart. In the second part, as Jude begins to formulate a plan to survive the ghost, it feels like an action thriller, with car chases and gun standoffs and physical danger. As the story winds up to the climax, it returns to pure preternatural terror and then, thankfully, the storm is over and the final sections pull it all together with fine prose. Hill's writing is excellent. He displays emotions so well, layers upon layers of emotion, that the characters actions and reactions are fully believable. The emotional depth of this story was surprising at times, and there were some very beautiful moments in the midst of all the thrills. The characters are well developed, with back stories being fleshed out in a natural way, through memories and conversation. The only flaw I found in the book was that the hero suffered from Dan Brown Syndrome--Jude was able to keeping going an unnaturally long amount of time while injured. That said, Hill explained Jude's relationship to pain earlier in the book, and Jude often passed out, slept, hurt and was cranky. So, while he had way more pain tolerance that was probably possible, Hill covered all his bases with that one and it isn't a serious problem. The importance of music in the story was a nice angle. I particularly enjoyed all the references to classic metal-rock bands, musicians and songs, some obvious and some very subtle. Overall I was very impressed with Hill's prose, style and plot development. Heart-Shaped Box is more than just a "horror" novel. It is a well crafted novel that is certainly worth reading.

(Review based on reading ARC.) Miranda Kennedy quits her NPR job and moves from NYC to Delhi to be a freelance reporter, expecting a grand adventure in the footsteps of her parents and great-aunt. She isn't expecting to find that certain things, taken for granted in the U.S., will be difficult for a single woman. Sideways on a Scooter is Kennedy's recounting of those difficulties, as well as the difficulties she sees women native to India experience. She tells of close friendships she makes, of her observations of the dating and marriage experiences of her friends, of the life experiences of her servants and of some of the things she learned as a result of living in India. Sideways on a Scooter sounds wonderful when put briefly like that, and it should have been a excellent book, as all the elements of a fantastic memoir were present. Unfortunately, Kennedy's narrative style failed her and the story is instead chapters comprised of a messy conglomeration of her surprisingly intolerant opinions, rambling retellings of India's history and her anecdotes, the three of which rarely seem to connect together. When writing about her experiences she has an unsettling way of crossing from the first person point of view into an omnipotent story teller as she tells parts of her story that she really couldn't have known at that time. I gathered, at the end of the book, that perhaps she went back later and interviewed the people in question as to what they were thinking and feeling at the time. This is mere speculation on my part, though, and even if that were certain knowledge, it would do little to alleviate the awkward storytelling style. In addition, she tended to flip-flop between various time periods in her life in Delhi within a chapter, making for confusion to the reader. Again, as with the history and opinions, these various episodes rarely tied-in together by the end of the chapter, so the point of it is uncertain. Despite the unprofessional writing style, Kennedy's experiences were very interesting, and I did want to read them, did want to know what happened to her various friends and acquaintances. It's for that reason I give this book two stars. This book would have been unimaginably better had Kennedy stuck to only her experiences there and left out her attempts at history, current events and op-eds, which only made her appear like a spoiled American complaining about a country that is different from her own. Kennedy would have benefited from a reliable editor or pre-reader with the honesty to point out these things. As it stands, Sideways on a Scooter is a poorly written memoir and I would advise fellow readers to give it a miss.

Locke & Key Volume 1: Welcome to Lovecraft is a stunning graphic novel. It follows the children of the Locke family, Tyler, Kinsey and Bode, after a summer tragedy causes them to move to the family home Keyhouse in Lovecraft, MA with their uncle. Each issue (chapter) focuses on one sibling, taking up the story from his or her perspective, as the children (and the reader) must come to terms with an unhinged killer, a malignant spirit and a house full of keys, doors and mysteries. The story builds to a crescendo and the tension is nearly tangible. As the final chapter ends, it is not with the relief of a crisis averted, however, as the reader and the youngest Locke (Bode) realize that there is more to come. Hill's storytelling is fantastic. He weaves his tale seamlessly in both the past and present. The plot is fluid and, though fantasy, engrossing and believable. The narrative style of this particular story is well suited to the graphic novel medium, and Hill uses it to his advantage. It is violent and frightening, but most of all it is solidly well written and so exciting, it is impossible to put down once begun. Hill's writing ability is not limited only to plot. He does a fine job of creating his characters, in particular the Locke children. The emotions of these children are true to life, as are the very different ways they deal with their tragedy. Hill has fleshed out three very real characters that a reader can connect with quickly and firmly. Rodriquez's art is flawless, facial expressions and body movements readable and accurate. His art not only brings the story to life, it adds to the story, helps tell it without words. Rodriguez draws the eye of the reader to cruical parts, sometimes subtly, other times with a violence befitting the subject. There is blood and gore and sometimes frightening images depicted, as the tale is a horror-fantasy story. Rodriquez illustrates the horrible expertly, but in a detached way, so that while still gruesome, the acts of violence are not being treated reverentially as I have seen in some graphic novels. Overall the pairing of Hill's story with Rodriguez's art is simply fantastic, making for a graphic novel that is simply perfect.

(Review based on reading ARC.) I expected How Shakespeare Changed Everything to be a lighthearted look at various ways that Shakespeare's influence can be found in the world today. What I did not expect was a near fanatical, quite serious, series of essays about, well, how Shakespeare changed everything. The first line of Marche's introduction sets his tone: "William Shakespeare was the most influential person who ever lived." Well, all right. . . In his first essay, "the Fortunes of the Moor", Marche gives Shakespeare credit for the election of the first African American President. According to Marche, because Shakespeare wrote Othello, and because Paul Robeson acted the part in the 1940's, the United States has it's first African American President. I am not simplifying his argument. I suppose, for Marche, the entire Civil Rights Movement was unimportant? In another essay, "Words, Words, Words", he credits Shakespeare with creating more words than any other author--any word not previously recorded prior to Shakespeare's writing it down is, according to Marche, a Shakespeare invention. Marche seems to forget that Shakespeare was a man of the streets, and what he was writing down was slang. Did the first journalist (or script writer) to use the word "noob" invent it? No. Did Shakespeare invent the words he wrote? No. Shakespeare was a writer of popular, low brow entrainment, the equivalent of a sitcom or soap opera writer today. He was writing for his audience, using their words. Bravo for Shakespeare for recording so many, but only a history-ignorant hero-worshiper could think that he invented them all. In "Not Marbles, nor the Gilded Monuments", Marche states "the greater the artist, the more he or she was influenced by Shakespeare". For blind fanaticism, this is a great line. For truth about literary greatness, it doesn't even deserve a response. One of Marche's arguments is that the introduction of Starlings to NYC came from Eugene Schieffelin's attempt to introduce all the birds of Shakespeare to the United States. I was fascinated by this, actually giving Marche his due for a way that Shakespeare really did change the world, until I looked it up myself. While it may be true, there is no factual evidence to prove that the given reason is more than the equivalent of an urban legend. Marche, with the zeal of a school boy writing his first opinion essay, finds Shakespeare as the source for everything from the sexual revolution to the assassination of Lincoln, to the idea of teenagers to the use of skulls as decoration. He often proved himself wrong with the few contrary facts he allows into his essays. An easy bit of research will show contrary views and facts for those that don't find his obsessive devotion easy to swallow. Marche's mediocre writing does nothing to help his case. Despite being a novelist and regular magazine contributor, his prose in How Shakespeare Changed Everything is juvenile, dull and overtly slanted. I was unconvinced and thoroughly disappointed. I had expected a lively, entertaining book and instead found a series of essays that might have been written for a high school English class

Sam is college dropout, trying to find his place in the world but currently flipping hamburgers, riding his skateboard and hanging out with his friends. A smashed tail light causes a chain of events that brings Sam to the attention of the areas most powerful necromancer and brings Sam to the discovery that not only does the paranormal exist, but he is a necromancer as well. Douglas intends to train Sam, keep him if he's useful and kill him and steal his power if he isn't. None of these options is really what Sam had in mind for his life, and his attempts to resist Douglas lead to murder, uncovered family secrets, heroism and love. Hold Me Closer, Necromancer has a fast, but enjoyable pace. The chapters alternate between Sam's first person point of view and a third person point of view of other characters. This causes the flow to be interrupted a bit at the beginning of chapters, but isn't a vital flaw. When the paranormal world is revealed, the reader is bombarded by race after race of fantasy creatures. This is overwhelming, trying to absorb all the information being given, and many of the races have no bearing on this story. A more gradual introduction, as the races become relevant, would have been better. Sam and his friends are well defined, with likable and believable personalities. Douglas is a bit over the top, more of a stereotypical evil villain, but his back story was well written. A most amusing point was the chapter titles. Sam's love of classic rock is reflected in those titles and often gave me a chuckle. Hold Me Closer, Necromancer is good, light novel with humor and tension and well planned plot. I expect Ms. McBride will leave her mark in the paranormal YA genre. Note to parents: This novel does contain consensual, lightly described, sex between young adults.

An Artificial Night is the third book in McGuire's urban fantasy series, set in present day San Francisco Bay area, about half-fae, half-human October ("Toby") Daye. Toby is a knight errant in the service of her Lord, as well as the only private investigator in the Kingdom. She lives with two cats and a rose bush gremlin, has recently formed a fledgling friendship with the King of Cats and seems to live her life like a death wish. When An Artificial Night begins, Toby meets her "Fetch", a harbinger of her death. Closely following this, her best friend Stacy calls Toby in a panic: two of her children are missing. Tybalt, King of Cats, reports five missing children from his Court as well. To find and return these children, Toby must face down an ancient evil, uncover secrets a friend has kept long hidden, and make the choice to become a hero. The plot of An Artificial Night is rather complex, following various nursery rhymes and fairy tales in a way that would make explaining it impossible. Despite this sometimes muddled story line, An Artificial Night is a good read; McGuire has created a paranormal alternate reality that is very believable and blends the fantasy world with the present day world quite nicely. Her characters are sometimes over the top with their actions and reactions, but then this is fantasy and they are fae. I suppose it would be odder if they were not larger than life. Toby herself is very likable in both her strengths and weaknesses. Tybalt is a character one can't help but like and his gradually unfolding relationship with Toby is one of the better written parts of the series. The action (fights, car chases, hunts) is often more like an action movie than a novel, in that it moves very fast and Toby seems indestructible. This is a minor quibble, though, because the novel is a solidly enjoyable, casual read and I would certainly recommend this series to fans of paranormal fiction and urban fantasy. Do read them in order, though, as many incidents in An Artificial Night can only be fully understood by having read the first two novels.

Britten and Brülightly is a well written, fantastically illustrated noir mystery. Britten is a private detective who, for years, has specialized so in the tawdry love triangle cases that he has been publicly nicknamed "the Heartbreaker". Despite the encouraging words of his much more upbeat partner, Brülightly, Britten has become tired of both his job and his life. "I don't get out of bed for less than a murder," he said, and it potential murder that persuaded him to crawl out of bed into the public again. Britten has been contacted by Charlotte Maughan after the apparent suicide of her fiance. To her, the pieces don't fit; she feels it must be a murder made to look like a suicide and hires him to investigate. Britten and Brülightly is film noir in a graphic novel; it is by far the best written noir I have encountered. It contains the clasic elements of great noir : a fractured and down main character; a beautiful lady needing assistance; a complex mystery; realistic (leaning toward the unhappy) ending and leaves the reader or viewer sitting silent in amazement. Berry's amazing art fits and adds to the story and to the noir feel perfectly. The predominant rain and gray days, the angles and corners, and the nearly monochrome color scheme enhance the feel of the story tremendously. The composition and "film angle", if you will, of the panels is that of a well done movie. They are not the common waist up, front on panels that are so predominant in the average graphic novel. From above, from below, half faces, close-ups: all are used to make an enormous contribution to both plot and ambiance. Berry's particular attention to hands is fantastic. I had one small complaint: the story is hand written in a font that was, only at times, hard to interpret certain words. Oddly enough, though I had to squint and struggle, I found that in the end this rather added to the story, to the feel of uncertainty, mystery and confusion that were so prevalent in the story. Britten and Brülightly simply awed me. It's a dark tale, and not a particularly happy one, but totally engrossing and simply stunning--text and image--from the first line ("As it did every morning with spiteful inevitability, the sun rose.") to that last breathtaking scene.

Calamity Jack picks up the adventures of Rapunzel and Jack where Rapunzel's Revenge left off, but this time the story is told from Jack's point of view. Jack had bungled his last job in his hometown, Shyport, with disastrous results for his mother. He returns with Rapunzel with the intention of setting things right, but finds Shyport under the control of an evil giant and much more at stake than he realized. Calamity Jack takes place in a town and has none of the Wild West charm of Rapunzel's Revenge. While it's an amusing story, especially if reading it as a sequel to Rapunzel's Revenge, it's sadly lacking anything particularly special. I found it disconcerting that while Rapunzel's Revenge had only a Wild West tall tale type of fantasy, all the sudden in Calamity Jack there are pixies and giants and talking animals. . . If the two books didn't contain the same principle characters, it would be hard to see how they belonged together. The art, as with Rapunzel's Revenge, is serviceable but there are no "Wow!" moments revealed through it. The art illustrates the story, rather than advancing and enhancing the storyline. On the whole, if I hadn't enjoyed Rapunzel's Revenge and been interested in those characters, I probably wouldn't have found Calamity Jack to be worth three stars. As a furtherance of characters looked on with fondness, I enjoyed it; as a graphic novel, it was merely okay.

Rapunzel's Revenge is a very enjoyable retelling of the Rapunzel fairy tale which moves the setting to the Old Wild West. Rapunzel has been raised to believe that Mother Gothel is her natural mother, but an act of rebellion on her twelfth birthday leads to the truth and Mother Gothel's retribution. Rapunzel is imprisoned in a bewitched tree tower for four years, during which time her hair grows extremely long, she exercises and finds new uses for her hair out of boredom, and she continues to displease Mother Gothel on her yearly visit. She finally escapes, meets up with Jack, and the adventure really begins as they plot Mother Gothel's downfall. This was a delightful story, both whimsical and warm, and the Wild West setting gave it a completely unique flavor. A strong female character, a good friendship and humor all the way through round it off to a very nicely done tale. The art is pleasing, while not exceptional. It rarely does anything to advance the storyline, but does illustrate it nicely and fully brings out the "tall tale" feel to the story. I'm surprised at the recommended age range, 9-12, and feel that a somewhat older age would appreciate it and understand it better. Overall, this is an unusual and delightful retelling of a classic story that should please young adult readers, graphic novel fans and lovers of fairy tale retellings.

Animal Farm picks up right where Volume 1 left off. Snow goes to upstate New York to visit The Farm (where the Fables that can't blend in with humans live) and takes Red with her to work off community service hours. They arrive at The Farm earlier than is normal for Snow's biannual visit, and find the Farm Fables in the midst of revolutionary unrest. Rose joins with the revolutionists and Snow is left scrambling to find allies. This storyline wasn't nearly as interesting to me as the first Fables volume, despite there being more serious elements. I think this is due, in part, to much of the action being told after the fact. All the real action was over in the first four issues (chapters) and the fifth felt contrived and filled out to make a full issue. Again, I was disappointed in the art. There was nothing original or unusual, or even particularly memorable, to the illustrations. It merely illustrates the story and doesn't seem to give any extra dimension to the story at all. The art is certainly not used as a vehicle to further the story, as it is in other, finer graphic novels. Despite my interest in the characters, despite the huge following this series has, despite reading that it gets better as it goes on, I'm not sure I'm willing to a third volume.

(review based on reading ARC) In the 1950's, Marylou Ahearn was the unwitting guinea pig in a radiation experiment that had a fatal outcome for her family. The project came to light during the Clinton Administration and now, at age 77, Marylou has decided to exact her revenge on the doctor in charge of the horrible project. She is, in fact, going to murder Dr. Wilson Spriggs. It took her several years to finally track down Dr. Spriggs, but thanks to the miracle of the internet, she has found him living with his daughter and her family in Tallahassee, FL. So, to Tallahassee she goes, with murder on her mind, and cons her way into the very fabric of his family, with sometimes disastrous consequences and never with quite the results she imagined. On the surface, The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady is a darkly humorous tale, but it goes much deeper than that. The author uses Marylou and her desire for revenge as a vehicle to explore the family of Dr. Spriggs--one which on the outside seems so perfectly typical, but on the inside, where none but the family can see. . . Well, it's really typical there too--full of miss-communication, heartbreak, love, adversity, disorder, and triumph, both small and earth-shatteringly large. In a word, they are EVERY family. The novel itself is quite well written, with each chapter continuing on the story from the viewpoint of another character, either Marylou or a member of Dr. Spriggs' family. The characters are fresh, real and engaging. In Marylou, for example, Ms. Stuckey-French has created an appealing character, torn between her better nature and her desire for revenge. With Ava and Otis, as another example, she shows two different, yet similar, sides of Asperger's Syndrome with painful and amusing truthfulness. (As one intimately familiar with Asperger's Syndrome, I found her treatment refreshing: not sappy, not overly optimistic, just quite realistic.) Overall, though it is touted as a "dark comedy" (and rightfully so), it is so much more than that. The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady is the tale of family triumph, and of how things never quite work out how we have them planned, and of how life is good--despite it all, life is good.

I had previously read Ms. Gerritsen's most recent novel, Ice Cold, and liking it very much was looking forward to starting the series from the beginning. As a lucky happenstance, a friend gave me The Surgeon as my first-ever gifted Kindle book! In The Surgeon, the reader first meets Jane Rizzoli, who becomes one of the main characters for Ms. Gerittsen's series. As the only female in the detective unit of the Boston PD, she feels she has much to prove, has to stay tough, and work harder than anyone else. When a gruesome set of murders begin appearing around Boston, Jane stakes claim on the case. As the case develops, she and fellow Detective Moore find connections to this serial killer and one killed two years ago. Before it is all resolved, Jane finds herself fighting for more than just an equal place on the team, as she faces down the killer. This is certainly more thriller than mystery, as the mystery conclusion is rather secondary to the thrills (as is standard in most thrillers); I was rather disappointed with the anonymity of the killer until I realized that fact. The action is fast paced, but not unrealistically so, and the mind of "unsub" is revealing in small, chilling doses. Ms. Gerritsen's uses her medical knowledge to describe hospital scenes in detail, adding another edge to the thrill. I have read complaints about her description of police detective work, but having no knowledge myself on which to base it, I did not see it an unbelievable. Despite not being completely satisfied with the mystery aspect (as I noted, it was a learning moment for me, to realize the most definite difference between mystery and mystery/thriller), I enjoyed the thrills and chills of the novel. I read it in one sitting, listening for strange sounds the whole time. I look forward to reading more my Ms. Gerritsen.

After having to stay up all night to read The Surgeon, it was with great excitement that I opened The Apprentice, and at first I was not disappointed. A grisly serial killer was beginning to imitate "the Surgeon", who Detective Jane Rissoli had put away a year ago. Given the similarities, she's called in to check out a case outside of Boston, and then becomes lead detective when "the Dominator" strikes again inside Boston. This had all the elements to be a excellent page turner, but it just fell flat somehow. Where the previous novel left me looking over my shoulder, this one just didn't give me the same thrills. The mystery solution was just not as believable, and the danger and fright elements were just not as jarring. Even the serial killer action just didn't have the same edge to it. Oh, it was a good enough read; I still read it all in one sitting, because I was curious as to how it ended. But, it simply was not as good as the other two novels I have read by Ms. Gerritsen, simply didn't live up to it's potential. If this had been the first novel I had read by her, it would probably be the last. As it is, I'll just say it is not a good example of her fine writing talent.

Something Wicked This Way Comes is chilling, intense tale of two teenaged friends, Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway, and a mysterious carnival. They are the only two people in the town, initially, that can see that something is not right with Mr. Dark and the sideshow freaks. Bradbury gives such life to his main characters, Jim and Will and Will's Dad. It is with horror and total understanding that the reader watches as Jim is nearly seduced by the carnival's promises. As an older reader, it was easy to feel the sadness and sense of loss being experienced by Mr. Halloway. Will, so likable, so naive, is the least believable only because he is so true in his goodness; and yet, I truly couldn't find fault with Will's character as such because his emotions were portrayed so well. Emotions were captured with wonderful clarity in this book, and are it's strongest feature. The language used by Bradbury in this book borders on poetry. I was continually struck by the beauty of a phrase, by an unusually accurate description or by a passage that simply begged to be read aloud. I was amazed at how beautifully he used the words, and how the words themselves added to the surreal feel of the story. As a story, this was a tense, spine-chilling fairy tale, or urban fantasy (if I can use that term to describe a country story). I found I needed breaks after a few chapters, so suspenseful was the experience for me. It's not necessarily horrifying or frightening, but the level of anxiety that the characters were undergoing expressed itself to me as reader. The evil was sometimes over the top evil, again in a fairy tale way, and the actions and reactions didn't necessarily make sense, but one doesn't look for normal everyday reactions in such a surreal dark fantasy. The message of good triumphing over evil, while not particularly heavy handed, is rather painfully obvious, which was off-putting at times. I wasn't fully satisfied with the ending, with the particular way that good triumphed evil. It just didn't fit the build up and felt a bit forced, as if Mr. Bradbury didn't have the ended planned out and had to come up with one in a hurry. While still surreal, and still requiring serious decisions by the characters, it fell too neatly into place and at the same time left several unresolved issues. Despite any complaints I have, it is certainly a good read, and I can see it's influence on many other authors I read, but it's not as strong of a book as is, say Fahrenheit 451

H. Rider Haggard lived in (what is now) South Africa from 1875 until he returned to London in 1882. He published his first novel, King Solomon's Mines in 1885, a fantastic adventure beginning in Durbin, South Africa and reaching to unexplored territories. It became an immediate best seller, and rightfully so. The story is told in first person by Allan Quatermain, written as a manuscript for his son, though occasionally (a first novel mistake, it would seem), Quatermainaddresses "Reader", instead of his son as he does throughout most of the novel. In the manuscript, Quatermain tells of meeting with Sir Henry Curtis and Sir Henry's friend Good, who had come to Africa in search of Sir Henry's missing brother. The last heard of him had been that he was going to Durbin in search of treasure. Quatermain was able to tell Sir Henry of a man that fit the description, a man Quatermain had given directions that might have helped him find King Solomon's mines. Sir Henry persuades Quatermain to join them as guide, and what follows is an adventure tale of fast friendship, narrow escapes, devoted love, true evil and, of course, treasure. While it is dated in some ways, King Solomon's Mines remains an magnificent yarn, drawing in the reader with an exciting plot and lovely descriptions and interesting characters. It remains a fun read, even some 125 years later. Haggard shows a surprising sympathy for the African native, in relation to his era, and explains some tribal practices with a very tolerant touch. While it is still obvious to a modern reader that Haggard considers the white European to be superior, the African characters are not stereotyped or portrayed as ignorant or evil, though superstition is a characteristic. Haggard makes no denial of the beauty of the African women, but does make his point "can the sun mate with the darkness or the white with the black?" on a few occasions. While the three main characters are white Europeans, there are three less major heroes who are African: Ignosi, Infadoos and the lovely Foulata, and these characters have equally important parts to play as Quatermain, Sir Henry and Good. Overall, Haggard kept his African characters in the area between the prejudiced portrayal and the equally insulting "noble savage", seemingly ahead of his time. While King Solomon's Mines is not a quick fluff read, it is still a somewhat light swashbuckling tale, full of humor and excitement and solid writing.

The Hunger Games takes place in a future dystopic North America, where (as penalty for a previous rebellion) each of the twelve districts is required to give up two randomly selected teenagers to the participate in a televised fight to the death. The story is told, in a first person point of view, by Katniss, the female competitor from the poor District 12. She and her fellow competitor, Peeta, are wined and dined in the Capitol, primped and preened for the audience, and then finally dropped into the arena to kill and hopefully survive. Various alliances are formed, competitors are brutally murdered, and in the end a rebellious statement is made to the ruling Capitol. The plot is generally compelling, and I found myself reading on even as I was unconvinced by it. (For example, District 12 has around 8000 people, the size of a small town, and yet it digs enough coal to fuel all 12 Districts and the Capitol?) There is enough drama, brutality and anxiety to make even a slightly interested reader curious as to the outcome, but our heroes kept getting off easy, not having to make the compelling life and death decisions that the other contestants were making; things just worked out around them. Then comes the end and it's a cliffhanger of sorts, a "buy my next book" ending, if you will, instead of just wrapping it up. I didn't appreciate that obvious ploy. I have never been a fan of stories told in the "simple present" verb tense, and the author shifts subtly here and there, unable to keep it up herself, creating a distracting method of storytelling that takes away from the actual story. Granted, this is a YA book, and the intended audience might not be so grammatically picky, but it was a problem for this reader. Katniss herself was not, to me, a sympathetic character. Her moods and personalities were too extreme; she felt like a larger than life character, rather than a believable hero. Peeta was easier for me to sympathize with, even though he is only seen through the eyes of Katniss. He came across less of a stock character and more real. Many other characters (just for instance: Prim, beloved by everyone; Gale, the boy that is good at everything; Rue, the ethereal fairy child) seemed very much like stock characters, seen in most fantasies, fairy tales and moral stories. Overall, the story Ms. Collins is telling is certainly an interesting one, but there were just enough snags in it to keep me from finding it a good read.

Wilkie Collins is best known as a writer of sensationalist fiction: supernatural suspense, terrifying drama, complex mysteries, and all often used as a vehicle for his complaints against social injustices. The Evil Genius doesn't fall into that category by today's standards, but for Victorians, it's very subject matter was sensational and taboo. The Evil Genius is novel of marital infidelity, Divorce (yes, with a capital "D"!) and the scandal and injustice that often (in Collins' times) surrounds these issues. Sydney, a young governess raised without parents to guide her in correct ways, finds her gratitude for her employer gradually slide into infatuation. Mr. Linley (the employer), finds his enchantment of Sydney returned by her infatuation, and an indiscretion is made and immediately regretted. Sydney loves Mrs. Catherine Linley, and considers her a dear friend, and she loves her pupil, Kitty with deep affection. They agree that Sydney must leave and Linley will confess all to Catherine. Catherine forgives, Sydney leaves for another position, and all would have returned to normal except that Kitty became grievously ill and wouldn't rest until she could see her dear Syd again. Accidentally alone, Sydney and Linley renew their forbidden love and are witnessed by Catherine. This time she can not forgive, and she banishes them both. What follows in the meat of the novel is a, not always under the surface, discussion of the unfairness of the law and society toward women in this situation. For example, as long as they are married, Linley only is the guardian of the child, by law. Only if a Divorce occurs does legal parental guardianship go to the mother. One character, Catherine's lawyer, expresses hope that the future may see a change in this law. When it is discovered by the residents of a small seaside resort that Catherine is Divorced, despite the fact it was her husband's infidelity, she and her daughter are shunned. Dear friends that are (as Collins puts it) "deeply religious", see any potential remarriage as a sin, in spite of the fact that (again, as Collins notes) the very verse they are quoting follows a verse that presumes the Divorced woman to have been the unfaithful one. Collins is really stepping out of the Victorian mores and making some controversial statements with this novel, and yet it doesn't read like a morality tale. The prose is excellent and the point of view shifts gently, sometimes so subtly as to be nearly undetectable, between main characters and causes the reader to change views of the characters as the point of view shifts. While melodramatic by today's standards, the story is still tense and interesting. Granted, Collins found a bit of an easy way out with the ending, and one that I (as a non-Victorian reader) was not quite comfortable with as a resolution. This isn't a fault of either novel or novelist, though, it's just a symptom of the times, and shows that Collins, while revolutionary in some ways, was still a Victorian gentleman. Collins has been one of my favorite novelist for many years, and The Evil Genius only increased my admiration for his talents.

Unlike King's usual novels, The Eyes of the Dragon is not full of horror or gore or even profanity. It is an almost gentle story; a fairy tale told with restraint by an unknown narrator who often speaks to the reader personally, as though the tale were being told by a storyteller to a breath-baited audience. The story is that of a weak king, his evil magician adviser and his two sons. I really don't wish to tell any of the plot; I'd rather you read it yourself. Suffice it to say that bad things happen, worse things are thwarted, heroes show themselves stalwart and dangerous situations make even the weakest strong when it counts. The Eyes of the Dragon is not a quick read, the language is too rich and reminiscent of vintage fairy tales to allow for that. Instead, it's a book to read slowly, savor and enjoy the experience of being in a fairy tale world. My complaints were minor, if any, because now that the book is finished I can't remember them. Instead, I remember only that I loved the hero with great devotion, hated the villain with pure hatred, and was sorry when my visit to the land of Delain was over. (I must add that I thoroughly enjoyed King's quiet nod to the master of the horror story, H. P. Lovecraft. Very amusing for Lovecraft fans, non-intrusive for those not in the know. Well played!)

Anna Katharine Green (November 11, 1846 – April 11, 1935) was one of the first Americans to write mysteries that featured a detective, and is also credited with shaping the genre into more legally accurate fiction, as well as inventing both the (new stereotypcial) meddling busybody sleuth and girl detective. The Leavenworth Case (her first novel), is a complex mystery with a well penned and well planned plot. It takes many twists and turns, but none unbelievable or contrived, and arrives at a solution at once surprising, satisfying, and obvious from the beginning if the read had been looking in the right direction. Loosely, the plot of The Leavenworth Case is that Horace Leavenworth is found murdered in his locked library. Naturally, his household is suspected, and evidence points to one of his nieces, Eleanor. The narrator is a young lawyer, Mr. Raymond, who has no experience is mysteries or murders. The police detective, Mr. Gryce, enlists Raymond's help because he is a gentleman, and as such will be welcome in places that Gryce would not be. While Raymond hates the thoughts of playing spy, he has become extremely interested in protecting Eleanor's reputation, so agrees. All the clues and information the reader sees are what Raymond sees, so at times, the reader is deducing (like Raymond) without all the facts. As new information comes to light, Raymond has to fit that into his hypotheses, or scrap it all together and form a new one--and so does the reader. The Leavenworth Case was a most satisfying mystery, and kept me guessing til the end. I was certain I knew who the guilty party was time and time again. Time and time again I had to reform my ideas around new information. The clues and misinformation did not feel contrived at all, rather it came about very naturally, as one would expect during the course of a police investigation. Not only does The Leavenworth provide a meaty mystery; in it, one sees a very clear picture of life among certain classes in the U.S. in the late nineteenth century. Given both the quality of the mystery, and the slice of history it gave, I look forward to reading many more of Green's mysteries.

Wow! This graphic novel is a simply stunningly rendered telling of the Battle of Thermopylae. Is it "historical"? Not entirely, no, but then it never makes that claim. The Battle of Thermopylae has become as much legend as history and that is the treatment given in 300: legendary. 300 follows the Spartan King Leonidas as he takes his 300 warriors to stop the Persians. Leonidas is shown as a true Spartan hero and his wit and arrogance toward Xerxes along with his unflinching bravery make the reader (this one anyway) want to take up shield and spear and stand along side of him. The art is so fitting for the story. Heavy lines, silhouettes, and much red spattering create the atmosphere needed for each frame. The eye is drawn forward--no pulled forward--and eagerly follows. The art tells as much of the story as does the words. For those like me that had the misfortune to see the movie version first, never fear: the crappy wife subplot is NOT in this book! Huzzah! Nor is the blatantly off-putting, totally not Spartan image of the child Leonidas crying as he was being taken away from his mother for his trials. Breathtaking and rousing from beginning to end, 300 is a nearly hero-worshipful retelling of a legend, not a historical thesis--and there is nothing wrong with that! Read it, enjoy it and find it haunting the memory for days to come.

In We Need to Talk About Kevin, Ms. Shriver attempts to tell the story of events, reasons, undercurrents leading up to a school massacre. The story is told from the point of view of Eva, the mother of the murderer, in the form of letters Eva is writing to her husband. This is a very large undertaking and the premise is great. Ms. Shriver has an excellent story to tell, and at times it is well told and even gripping. Unfortunately, the very style of the story (letters describing events to a person who was there) was a draw back. It made for very awkward language as Eva told Franklin what he already knew (with such phrases as "You told me. . . ", "You gave me. . . ") and gave a very egocentric feel to the novel from the first page, as Eva describes her her life to one who knows it intimately. I suppose this was to set up for surprises later in the book, but it simply didn't work. The story of Eva's relationship with her husband and son would have made for interesting reading, but it was so hard to get past the fact that I was reading a novel, due to the self-important (and unrealistic) style and language. This is "a novel", and the reader is not going to forget it. There were times, though, that the story was interesting enough for me to over look this (hence the 2 stars instead of 1), but those instances were few. In addition, We Need to Talk About Kevin is simply too long. Ms. Shriver spends too much time on details and issues that don't add to the story and that could easily have been pared. Other school shooting incidents discussed in detail, the 2000 election fiasco in Florida referred to again and again, feelings examined in minutiae. . . This book weighs in at 400 pages in oversized paperback, and would probably have been a good novel if 1/4 of that had been left out. Another difficulty I had with We Need to Talk About Kevin was the discussions (generally arguments) between Eva and Franklin (recounted in detail by Eva to Franklin despite the fact he was there) about their son. These conversations were not realistic, read like how a young person might imagine adults talk, and certainly did not read like adults talking about their own children. Perhaps Ms. Shriver intended this, used it show the difficulty between Eva and Franklin. Perhaps, but to this reader it did have any purposeful use, and made reading even more difficult. Due to the over-scrutiny, the self-importance and the length, by the time the book ended, the "surprise" was no surprise and the ending was simply a relief. If Ms. Shriver had kept with just the basic story, and had Eva give it in a different format, this could have been a stellar read. As it is, I advise you give it a miss.

An excellent example of Pratchett's genius, I Shall Wear Midnight is funny and touching and so well written. It is a fantastic ending to a wonderful series, and shows that Pratchett has lost none of his ability to make a story both fantasy and real.

This is one of Woolf's best, if not THE best. It follows a family through decades, showing the changes in them and the changes in the world around them. That stream-of-consciousness style that she is so famous for runs smoothly in The Years, and just flows over the reader. It was hard for me to tear myself away from this book. . . I had to simply shut the book, often in mid-sentence, to make myself stop reading. This comes highly recommended.

This is a beautiful and haunting book tracing the lives of the heir to a Dukedom and his sister during the Edwardian age. Sackville-West deals gently yet firmly with the social aspects of the age, the double standards, the society, and the arising reforms. Sebastian becomes very real, very human and his struggles are believable. Though not her finest work, The Edwardians is an excellent book and well worth reading.

Ella Minnow Pea was written as a series of letters and notes and therefore was a quick, easy read--only took me a day and a half. I highly recommend it to fellow logophiles, as it had interesting, witty and subtly humorous word usage. It's about a small nation that (for reasons better explained by the book) loses the use of certain letters of the alphabet, one at a time. As the letters become unavailable in the story, they disappear in the writing as well. It did get a little tough to read for the last few pages, when the letters were very scarce and the words spelled phonetically, but it was well worth finishing.

Ella Minnow Pea was written as a series of letters and notes and therefore was a quick, easy read--only took me a day and a half. I highly recommend it to fellow logophiles, as it had interesting, witty and subtly humorous word usage. It's about a small nation that (for reasons better explained by the book) loses the use of certain letters of the alphabet, one at a time. As the letters become unavailable in the story, they disappear in the writing as well. It did get a little tough to read for the last few pages, when the letters were very scarce and the words spelled phonetically, but it was well worth finishing.

Ella Minnow Pea was written as a series of letters and notes and therefore was a quick, easy read--only took me a day and a half. I highly recommend it to fellow logophiles, as it had interesting, witty and subtly humorous word usage. It's about a small nation that (for reasons better explained by the book) loses the use of certain letters of the alphabet, one at a time. As the letters become unavailable in the story, they disappear in the writing as well. It did get a little tough to read for the last few pages, when the letters were very scarce and the words spelled phonetically, but it was well worth finishing.

I'm so glad I picked this book up. It is delightfully funny in a rather understated way. The characters become real enough to care about during the course of the story. The more improbable the situations, the more believable they are. This is a book you'll want to read again!

I'm so glad I picked this book up. It is delightfully funny in a rather understated way. The characters become real enough to care about during the course of the story. The more improbable the situations, the more believable they are. This is a book you'll want to read again!

This is certainly one of Sayers' best novels. The plot is detailed and realistic and the characters equally so. Lord Peter is at his most charming and observant. The book centers around a church and it's bell ringers. The chapters begin with quotes about bell ringing, which give it a wonderful flavor. If you only read one Lord Peter novel, make it this one!

The Basic Eight takes a morbid theme--high school student bruatally murdered by heart broken peer--and turns it into one of the funniest black comedies I've ever read. Flannery speaks to us through her journals and the little inserts she adds as she's editing them, and tells us "how it really happened". Things that have no business being funny had me rolling on the floor. The dark humor that Handler uses in his children's books was out in full force in this, his first novel. If black comedy offends you, well, you'll be offended so stay away, otherwise, read it and find yourself laughing even though at times you might not be really sure why!

After reading the introduction, I was hooked. I knew I'd have to read the whole thing, no matter how tedious and technical it might be. Lucky for me, it was neither. With the exception of a sometimes dull first chapter, it was a lively and entertaining book. Foster's "literary detection" began with his doctoral thesis. He found a poem he thought likely to have been written by Shakespeare. He comparing writing styles, specific words, references and other "internal evidence" to known Shakespearian works. With this, Foster was able to determine that yes, "A Funeral Elegy" was written by the Bard himself. Due to the press he received by this announcement, he was contacted for his opinion on the anonymous author Primary Colors. Using the same methodology, he successfully pinpointed the author as Joe Klein--who denied it vehemently for some time before admitting his authorship. In addition to these highly publicized cases, Foster writes about his un-used work on both Unabomber case and the Talking Points, his angering of some Thomas Poyner fans and the truth behind "Twas the Night Before Christmas." This was an entertaining and enlightening book that I highly recommend. It's certainly the only non-fiction book I've ever stayed up late to read!

What to say about the City of Light? Simply saying it was one of the best books I've read just doesn't seem emphatic enough! I had read favorable reviews of it, but it never sparked my interest. Turn of the century Buffalo, the PanAmerican Exposition, a headmistress and the Niagara Falls electric company just didn't sound like my kind of book. But then, a good friend recommended it--she has read it twice--and I thought I'd give it a try 'cause we have similar reading tastes. I read the first page, and my opinion began to change. I eagerly turned to the next page, and the next, and. . . I became obsessed with Lousia, and the world around her, with the events that began with her or ended with her or just involved her. All weekend I read until I couldn't focus, needing to read, to know, to be a part of her world. Toward the end of the book I was torn between hurrying through to see how it would end, and dallying, to make it last. I don't know how to describe this book, how to sort it neatly into a genre. There is mystery and history, inspiration and romance, fact and fiction--it's all there. But more importantly, there is life, in the plot, the characters, the conflicts and the conclusions.

Nafisi has written not an autobiography, but a story of her love affair with certain books and authors. She divides her life into four important phases, and the four books or authors that influenced her during that time in her life. It is a mix of personal memories, important moments in Iranian history, what she was reading at the time and how it colored her impressions. She begins with what would be the next-to-the-last sequentially, the start of her home class and the reading of Lolita. That Nafisi is an excellent literature professor shines through from the beginning. She doesn't merely mention the books, she discusses them, as though with a class, discussing plot, characters, details, meaning. I, who had never been interested in Lolita or Nabokov, became convinced of his worth solely due to her enthusiasm and passion for his works. She follows with the Iranian revolution and the subsequent "trial" of Gatsby in her classroom. Henry James accompanies the times following the revolution, the war with Iraq, her feelings of uselessness and her return to teaching. She ends with Jane Austen, more about her home class, how she ended up in America and where all her "girls" are now. Though this could have easily been a depressing book, about life in Iran, it is not. Instead, Nafisi has written about the beauty and hope of the novel, how it affected her and how she wanted it to affect her students. Nafisi is a kindred spirit to all us ardent bibliophiles. She expresses in words the passion, exhilaration and transfiguration I often feel during and after reading a novel and has lit a fire in me to re-read several classics she mentioned. This is definitely a five star book!

Welty's first published novel is a retelling of Psyche and Cupid, with a decidedly American twist. Instead of turning the Greek myth into a fairy tale, she's created a delightfully unbelievable, far-fetched and bizarre "tall tale". Many of the elements of a fairy tale are there--the wicked stepmother, the beautiful heroine, the naive and loving father, the handsome hero--but these are overshadowed by tall tale traits such as the superb stretching-of-the-truth skills by nearly everyone encountered from the mail rider who was swallowed by a crocodile to our heroine, Rosamond, who can't tell a truth to save her life. The story takes place along the Natchez Trace in Mississippi with "Red Indians", robbers and a few famous American tall tale characters filling up the bad guy roster--with the hero, Jamie, switching sides regularly. Rosamond's father Clement Musgrove is a wealthy planter who meets Jamie at an inn and unwittingly brings his disruptive presence into Musgrove family. Many deaths, lies, misunderstandings and berry stains later, Rosamond and Jamie do live happily ever after. . . and Rosamond even starts telling the truth. . . well mostly the truth, "it was all true but the blue canopy". This fanciful tale is a well-executed, superbly written, pleasant read and it's only afterward that one realizes that Welty added a bit of acid to this pleasurable brew.

Beetle is an orphan of indefinite age, wandering from village to village and working for food. At one stop, the midwife takes her on as apprentice and Beetle's life changes dramatically. The midwife is by no means a gentle mother figure, but she feeds Beetle regularly and the life is not hard. The reader follows Beetle (or Alyce as she later calls herself) as she matures, sheds her insecurities, becomes self-confident and self-loving, and finally learns to face up to and conquer her fears. It's a very positive tale, excellent for young girls who need to see positive female role-models face problems and succeed by sheer determination--and not fairy godmothers or money or good looks. While unconsciously absorbing these lessons, young readers will also find themselves learning about Medieval Europe. Cushman manages to slide historical facts in so casually that the reader will come away knowing about Medieval customs and practices, the art of early midwifery and life in a village. This is an excellent tale, well-written, witty and touching. I enjoyed it on many levels and would recommend it (along with Cushman's other excellent novel, Catherine Called Birdy) for pre-teens and teens--and adults like me who enjoy a light story with a positive girl character.

Framboise returns to the village of her youth as an old woman, unrecognizable because of her age and using a different first name along with her married name. None of the villagers connect her, a 65 year old widow, respectable though peculiar, with the skinny kid that was run out of the village with her mother and two siblings some fifty years prior. She's Mirabelle Dartigen's daughter. . . if they only knew. In her return "home" Boise must face the past and sort out what happened to her enigmatic mother. The album, with it's clippings and cryptic writing, leads her to discoveries about her mother that shock her and change her whole view of who her mother was. At the same time, Boise relives her own life, especially that pivotal summer. This, side by side with her discoveries from the album, form a full picture of what did happen, answer some of her questions and give the reader a story told in patchwork that, when fit together, makes a lovely quilt of story. The story is told in the first person, going back and forth from Boise's childhood to her current struggle with first the village and then her relatives. It transitions smoothly, the story is firm and real--and like the oranges that play such a crucial role, the scent of the story lingers for some time after the reading. The main plot was a well-used one, and as such disappointed me a bit. Harris managed to make up for that, though, with her style which kept me intrigued even during the most obvious bits. Over all the novel was a good one and I look forward to reading more by Harris.

Framboise returns to the village of her youth as an old woman, unrecognizable because of her age and using a different first name along with her married name. None of the villagers connect her, a 65 year old widow, respectable though peculiar, with the skinny kid that was run out of the village with her mother and two siblings some fifty years prior. She's Mirabelle Dartigen's daughter. . . if they only knew. In her return "home" Boise must face the past and sort out what happened to her enigmatic mother. The album, with it's clippings and cryptic writing, leads her to discoveries about her mother that shock her and change her whole view of who her mother was. At the same time, Boise relives her own life, especially that pivotal summer. This, side by side with her discoveries from the album, form a full picture of what did happen, answer some of her questions and give the reader a story told in patchwork that, when fit together, makes a lovely quilt of story. The story is told in the first person, going back and forth from Boise's childhood to her current struggle with first the village and then her relatives. It transitions smoothly, the story is firm and real--and like the oranges that play such a crucial role, the scent of the story lingers for some time after the reading. The main plot was a well-used one, and as such disappointed me a bit. Harris managed to make up for that, though, with her style which kept me intrigued even during the most obvious bits. Over all the novel was a good one and I look forward to reading more by Harris.

Dennis Barlow is a young Brit, brought over to Hollywood for his poetic skills. When his contract is not renewed, far from being horror-stricken like his fellow ex-patriots, he simply takes another job, with the intention of returning to poetry on the side. What happens afterward is a morbidly humorous tale on which I can not expound for fear of ruining it for you. I can say that it includes a cosmetician, a mortician, Whispering Glades Memorial Park, a parrot and a few famous poems. Oh, and lots of typical Waugh black humor that will have you laughing out loud, re-reading, and thoroughly enjoying yourself at the expense of the characters, dead and alive.

From the title of this book, I naturally expected it to be a biography of Galileo's daughter, which it is not exactly. I was a bit disappointed to begin with, as the first hundred pages or so are Galileo's early biography. Once his daughter, Virginia (later Suor Marie Celeste) came into the picture, the story became much more interesting. Virginia was one of Galileo's three illegitimate children by the mistress of his early years, Marina Gamba. She eventually married, with Galileo's blessings, and he never lost interest in his children. Due to their illegitimacy which he felt would eliminate any chance of a decent marriage, Galileo had his two daughters entered into a convent at a very early age. The both became nuns at the convent of San Matteo on turning sixteen, Virginia taking the name Suor Marie Celeste and Livia that of Suor Arcangela. The son, Vincenzio, lived with Galileo in his late teens and eventually (after an unpromising start) became a good son to him. This book recounts Galileo's personal and private life, using letters from Marie Celeste to give color to what would otherwise be a black and white, straight forward biography. Their shared love is beautiful to see in her letters--his to her having been lost--and the bits and pieces of every day life that she treats the reader to are thoroughly enjoyable. This is a very detailed and readable history of Galileo, and gave me a much greater understanding of the man, his work and his difficulty with the Church. The conflict he felt between himself and his discoveries comes through very clearly and poignantly in his own words through his other letters. Her faith in him, and in the fact that he was not being heretical, is very apparent. It was interesting to me to see how differently Sobel portrays Galileo's fight was the Church--if her sources are to be believed (and I see no reason to disbelieve) it was not at all what history textbooks would have us believe. As a history major and fanatic, I truly enjoyed reading this book. The alternate perspective of Galileo was refreshing and real--and made sense of a lot that had previously seemed murky to me about him and the Church. The addition of Marie Celeste's letters gave this book personality and took Galileo from a science god to a human being. My only regret is how few letters are in this book, and that the title is a bit misleading. Despite that, if you have any interest in Galileo, this is a must-read!

From the title of this book, I naturally expected it to be a biography of Galileo's daughter, which it is not exactly. I was a bit disappointed to begin with, as the first hundred pages or so are Galileo's early biography. Once his daughter, Virginia (later Suor Marie Celeste) came into the picture, the story became much more interesting. Virginia was one of Galileo's three illegitimate children by the mistress of his early years, Marina Gamba. She eventually married, with Galileo's blessings, and he never lost interest in his children. Due to their illegitimacy which he felt would eliminate any chance of a decent marriage, Galileo had his two daughters entered into a convent at a very early age. The both became nuns at the convent of San Matteo on turning sixteen, Virginia taking the name Suor Marie Celeste and Livia that of Suor Arcangela. The son, Vincenzio, lived with Galileo in his late teens and eventually (after an unpromising start) became a good son to him. This book recounts Galileo's personal and private life, using letters from Marie Celeste to give color to what would otherwise be a black and white, straight forward biography. Their shared love is beautiful to see in her letters--his to her having been lost--and the bits and pieces of every day life that she treats the reader to are thoroughly enjoyable. This is a very detailed and readable history of Galileo, and gave me a much greater understanding of the man, his work and his difficulty with the Church. The conflict he felt between himself and his discoveries comes through very clearly and poignantly in his own words through his other letters. Her faith in him, and in the fact that he was not being heretical, is very apparent. It was interesting to me to see how differently Sobel portrays Galileo's fight was the Church--if her sources are to be believed (and I see no reason to disbelieve) it was not at all what history textbooks would have us believe. As a history major and fanatic, I truly enjoyed reading this book. The alternate perspective of Galileo was refreshing and real--and made sense of a lot that had previously seemed murky to me about him and the Church. The addition of Marie Celeste's letters gave this book personality and took Galileo from a science god to a human being. My only regret is how few letters are in this book, and that the title is a bit misleading. Despite that, if you have any interest in Galileo, this is a must-read!

Jill, who talks about as hard as she drinks, is a part-time bookstore clerk who buys a signed first-edition of The Cruise of the Snark from a dwarf who seems to be in a mighty big hurry to take the proffered $25 and run. That afternoon, the dwarf shows up again, with the Joke Man who very persuasively convinces Jill that she needs to give the book back. Only, she's already sold it for considerable profit. What happens next is a fast-paced, non-stop hilariously horrible race to get the book and return it, hopefully staying alive throughout the whole adventure. And adventure it is--improbable, violent, and extremely funny. Jill reminds me of a wise-cracking Film Noir detective. . . except for the fact that she says and does things that even Spade wouldn't! The writing is witty and hip but sometimes painfully fast. If you can make it through the first couple of pages without going into shock from the speed of it all, you'll love it too.

Courtesans is both biography and social history. It follows the lives of five prominent English courtesans (Sophia Baddeley, Elizabeth Armistead, Harriette Wilson, Cora Pearl and Catherine Walters), giving an individual biography of each woman. The biography then forms the center of the social history, as Hickman shows British society of that time in relation to the particular courtesan--with the exception of Cora Pearl, who spent most of her time in Paris and therefore it is Parisian society that is explored. Cora Pearl Though there are many other courtesans equally as well-known, Hickman focused only one from each epoch of British society. She then gave briefer biographies of that courtesans friends and rivals as part of the social history. Though short, each biography is excellently done and with them Hickman gives a surprisingly detailed account of London social life--the demi-monde as well as "real" society--over a period of nearly 150 years. Birth control, women's rights, and prostitution also receive in depth treatment by Hickman, as she constructs social history around these famous ladies. Hickman shows the world that is excluded from most histories and thereby the reader is able to construct a fuller picture of the world of high society in London from the time of George III throughout the early 1900's. I can not recommend this book highly enough to anyone interested in the social history of Britain during these times.

Trying Neaira is just what one would NOT expect an historical nonfiction book to be: witty and easy to read, with little bizarre bits that one just MUST read out loud! Furthermore, her writing style is light and makes a normal dry subject (the ancient Athenian judicial system) interesting and comprehensible. Neaira was a prostitute in the 4th century, who grew up in Corinth and eventually found herself in a stable relationship as the long-time mistress of an influential Athenian, Stephanos. Unfortunately, Stephanos had an equally influential enemy (or at least rival) Apollodoros. They battled back and forth in the courts, and eventually Apollodoros hit on a different way to attack Stephanos--through Neaira. Athenian laws were quite strict about foreigners and allowed no intermarriage. Apollodoros set out to prove that Neaira was living with Stephanos as his wife, instead of as his mistress, and that their children were being given the rights of Athenian citizens--which, as Neaira's children, they never could be. Using Apollodoros speech to the jury, Hamel recreates Neaira's life, while using other sources to fill out the story with interesting details about prostitution, jury duty, social customs and Athenian law.* Hamel approaches Neaira's life (via the speech) as a detective would, piecing together bits, shifting out obvious falsehoods, and in the end presenting a surprising full picture of one woman's life. This is an excellent book for anyone who is, or who is NOT, interested in ancient Athenian law. I, myself, had not the least curiosity in said subject and yet found myself fascinated, all the while being constantly entertained by her sly wit and bizarre trivia. I learned enough from this book to become quite interested in Athenian history and I feel it will have the same effect on any other casual historian. *to quote from the Preface: Apollodoros'speech, inevitably hostile to Neaira, must be the principal source for her biography, though we will need very often to question and reject the information he provides. Where what he tells us is not inherently unlikely, however, or contradicted by other sources, and when lying about the issue under discussion would not have furthered the prosecution's case, we can feel reasonably confident about accepting Apollodoros' testimony. Fleshing out Neaira's story, too, will require frequent dips into other source material.

Trying Neaira is just what one would NOT expect an historical nonfiction book to be: witty and easy to read, with little bizarre bits that one just MUST read out loud! Furthermore, her writing style is light and makes a normal dry subject (the ancient Athenian judicial system) interesting and comprehensible. Neaira was a prostitute in the 4th century, who grew up in Corinth and eventually found herself in a stable relationship as the long-time mistress of an influential Athenian, Stephanos. Unfortunately, Stephanos had an equally influential enemy (or at least rival) Apollodoros. They battled back and forth in the courts, and eventually Apollodoros hit on a different way to attack Stephanos--through Neaira. Athenian laws were quite strict about foreigners and allowed no intermarriage. Apollodoros set out to prove that Neaira was living with Stephanos as his wife, instead of as his mistress, and that their children were being given the rights of Athenian citizens--which, as Neaira's children, they never could be. Using Apollodoros speech to the jury, Hamel recreates Neaira's life, while using other sources to fill out the story with interesting details about prostitution, jury duty, social customs and Athenian law.* Hamel approaches Neaira's life (via the speech) as a detective would, piecing together bits, shifting out obvious falsehoods, and in the end presenting a surprising full picture of one woman's life. This is an excellent book for anyone who is, or who is NOT, interested in ancient Athenian law. I, myself, had not the least curiosity in said subject and yet found myself fascinated, all the while being constantly entertained by her sly wit and bizarre trivia. I learned enough from this book to become quite interested in Athenian history and I feel it will have the same effect on any other casual historian. *to quote from the Preface: Apollodoros'speech, inevitably hostile to Neaira, must be the principal source for her biography, though we will need very often to question and reject the information he provides. Where what he tells us is not inherently unlikely, however, or contradicted by other sources, and when lying about the issue under discussion would not have furthered the prosecution's case, we can feel reasonably confident about accepting Apollodoros' testimony. Fleshing out Neaira's story, too, will require frequent dips into other source material.

Kenny, as we discover immediately, is a serial killer. He kills more for pleasure than for attention, and to fill a void left from a bad childhood. Molly is an emergency room nurse, and has been for years. She's seen abused kids come in and out of the ER, helpless to help them. Sure, she tried when she was young and idealistic, but these days, she knows that most are beyond helping. Kenny was one of the ones that she tried to help in her younger days. He remembers and he wants to thank her. Thank her for noticing him, for being the only one who did. He begins sending her gifts, special gifts, human gifts. If there is one thing Molly has learned through her life, it's that nothing is certain, nothing is how it seems. Following that logic, she can't be sure that she's not his next intended victim. Thus begins her frantic search to find him, while still maintaining two jobs, being in the middle of an odd courtship and becoming the unwilling guardian to a troublesome, and quite charming, nephew. Molly has too much on her plate, and more keeps getting added. At times, it seemed that Molly was getting more than even a fictional character could handle, and I felt overwhelmed with it myself. But, it was the type of "overwhelmed" that required further reading. And fast. This is a book that starts off fast and ends breathless, with the reader whirling in a happy state of fear, shock and pure book-loving pleasure. Dreyer, herself a former St. Louis ER nurse, writes convincingly of nursing, the city and murder. The clues are all there. There is not one discovery that left me feeling cheated. Everything was spelled out for me. But it was so cleverly done that every revelation was still a surprise. I'd slap my hand to my forehead and say "HOW did I miss that?", and then bury my nose right back into the book. I only came up for air a few times while reading Head Games. It was so good, I read it straight through one night. And, after I finished at 2 pm, I woke my husband up and made him stand in the door of the bathroom while I showered. I was seeing killers in every shadow. It was that good of a book! The book-induced fear wore off with morning, but not the book itself. It was a stunning book, with some shocks that I never anticipated and an ending that while satisfying, was still unsettling--and caused me to question some unconscious prejudices. I give Head Games the highest recommendation.

With Buzzwords, May Berenbaum presents a collection of essays, many previously published, that show the lighter-and usually humorous side-of entomology. Berenbaum divides her book into four sections: how entomologists see insects, how the world sees insects, how entomologists see themselves and how an entomologist sees science. Topics include insect flatulence, the misrepresentation of insects in comic books, the stereotypical role of entomologists in movies, aged ants, the smoking of insects, naming insects and, as the name suggest, insect sex life. None of this, of course, would ever have been considered a humorous topic to me prior to this book. A few pages into it, however, and I was reading aloud the amazing, bizarre and comical facts about insects and entomologists. I must add, though, that the final section was not nearly as interesting and it took me a lot longer to read it than I did the others; the first two sections were especially droll and I flew through those hundred pages with amazing speed. Of course, this being a collection of humorous essays, each one had to end with a punch line, a pun or a joke. At times they seemed forced and this tended to lessen my enjoyment of the essay somewhat. Another detraction was the occasional incorrect punctuation. There was a tendency for quotation marks and parenthesis to start and never close, causing me to skim frantically down the page to see just when the thought would end. Despite these objections, Buzzwords was an pleasant-and eye-opening-read, fully deserving of four out of five stars.

Susan Harriott has just been convicted of the murder of Andrew Gow and of his new wife, Donna McGovern. She was Andrew's court appointed psychologist, and it is suspected (though not proven) that they were having an affair. Gow, a convicted serial killer and rapist, was released on appeal and murdered shortly thereafter, apparently by Susie in a jealous rage Susie's husband Lachlan is certain that she would not and did not do such a thing. He is searching through her study for anything that might could be used during an appeal. The novel is the journal he kept of his findings, his interpretation of what he finds, and his emotions, fears, doubts as he uncovers layer upon layer of Susie's deception. All that is given is Lachie's view; we see the world only through his eyes. We are surprised, shocked, and deceived along with him-and possibly, just possibly, surprised, shocked, and deceived by him. When the conclusion arrives, it is not a package of neatly tied-up ends. It is another question, leaving the reader wondering what really IS the truth? Deception is masterfully written. Any flaws that I might have noticed reading were so minor that I'd forgotten them by the end of the book. There is no question that it a full five star book, and it comes highly recommended to those looking for an atypical suspense/mystery.

Journalist Asra Nomani is a woman of much complexity-she is a single mom, a career woman and an American Muslim. The birth of her son Shibli, and her desertion by Shibli's father, marks a turning point in her life and leads her to give more serious thought to her spiritual life, the result of which is her desire to participate in the hajj, the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca. Standing Alone is the very personal memoir of Nomani's experiences during the hajj, of her struggles as a woman in what has become a male dominant religion, of her search for a God of love among all the dogma, and finally of how the journey helped her redefine her spiritual life. She examines her life prior to the hajj, tries to work out the knotty problems of issues like pre-marital sex and divine forgiveness and the horror that some have done in the name of her faith. Nomani bares her heart and her soul to the reader as she seeks her truth. This books is more than just a spiritual journal, though. It also gives outsiders a closer, clearer few of Islam, it's practices and it's history. I found it to be not only enlightening, but very timely for our age. Ms. Nomani has opened a new world for me by helping me be rid of many stereotypes and prejudices that I had unwittingly harbored. I hope that others will read it and find the same release from ignorance and a renewal of love and respect for others.

Evening in the Palace of Reason is a joint biography of J. S. Bach and Frederick the Great-two prominent, and very different, historical figures. Gaines begins his tale with their first and only meeting. Frederick, the Enlightenment's poster child, scorns Bach and his music as old fashioned, unsightly and-worst of all- religious. He presents Bach with two musical challenges, which Bach responds to in his typical fashion. After this initial introduction, Gaines begins the biographies of these two great men, recording their extreme dissimilarities and showing how these would culminate into Fredrick's difficult test, and Bach's equally difficult rejoinder. Into their stories, Gaines weaves many different threads-musical history, musical theory, theology, religious history, philosophy and the basic history of their time and place-to create a complex background on which to place the two, making for a detailed and fascinating story. There were few "dull" places, though I did find some of the music theory hard-going, due to my lack of pre-knowledge. However, I came away from reading Evening in the Palace of Reason with a firmer grasp of not only Bach and Frederick, but counterpoint, Lutheranism, the 18th century, Prussian history and many more things I knew nothing about before I picked up the book!Though this is a scholarly work, Gaines did not target a purely scholarly audience, and as a result it can be enjoyed by layperson or historian alike. I did find a few faults with this work, the most aggrieving being the lack of dates. Though I am a history enthusiast myself, I still need solid, concrete dates to place an incident within the framework of what was occurring in other parts of the world. Despite knowing when the Enlightenment "occurred", I would have preferred dates on the essential issues, such as the year of their births, the year in which they met, the year in which anything occurred. I found this lack of dates to be a continual frustration. Otherwise, except for a few passages that were simply not well written, Gaines has done an admirable job with Evening in the Palace of Reason. This is a great read for amateur social or music historians, or biography aficionados. I thoroughly enjoyed it and rate it a solid four out of five.

The Friendly Jane Austen: A Well-Mannered Introduction to a Lady of Sense & Sensibility is a wonderful resource for the die-hard Austen fan as well as Austen newbies. Ms. Tyler takes each book in turn, gives a synopsis of the plot and places it in historical context and in the context of Austen's life. She then explains those details that might be abstract to those not familiar with Regency culture, such as entailed property, the importance of walking and the attitude toward marriage, making the reader comfortable with the novel. She includes illustrations, interviews, quizzes and delightful bits on the side such as "10 Surefire Ways to be Vulgar", a table of average income and "Sense and Sensibility: A Checklist". In addition, she finishes the book lists of movie versions, book spin-offs and sequels and shows Austen's role (her "legacy") in our century. An Austen fan from way back, I found this a truly delightful book. Ms. Tyler is humorous as well as informative and her enthusiasm for Austen is apparent. This is a must-have for Austen fans, no question about it; the resources provided in The Friendly Jane Austen further the enjoyment of reading Austen's novels. It is also an excellent book for those that have just started reading Austen. With this book by your side, you can't fail to see just how wonderful Jane Austen was, and still is.

Charlie Asher is a nice, likable and (except for his exceptionally over-worked imagination, common in a "Beta Male") normal guy. At least he was normal, until the day he accidentally walked in on Death--well actually, one of his minions, the dapper and cool Minty Fresh--and finds himself as one of Death's Little Helpers as well, collecting the souls from the newly departed and saving these souls from unscrupulous use by a set of female demons and their wicked lord. Once Charlie gets the hang of it, he finds out that it's not such a bad job, makes him a decent living and gives him plenty of time with his daughter Sophie. There's just one flaw. . . it seems that the Sewer Harpies (as Charlie comes to call the female demons) are growing stronger. So strong in fact, that there will be no other course of action than a ferocious battle for the world, between the forces of good and evil. Charlie is alternatively helped and hindered on his path by the sort of wonderful characters only Moore could create. There's Lily, the wise-cracking teenaged Goth and "creepiness child prodigy" (who quickly became my favorite), and Ray, an ex-police officer searching for love on Asian dating sites. Charlie's sister Jane -the Alpha Male that Charlie isn't- gives Charlie strength and love--all the while looking better in his suits than he does. Even Charlie's daughter Sophie, who grows up before our eyes, has some odd tendencies--bad luck with pets, one very dangerous word, her own personal hounds from hell and the typical child's memory for things that one was not supposed to hear in the first place. Of course, one couldn't expect her to be completely normal, given her father (who was convinced he saw a tail on her six-month sonogram) and the influence of her unintentional hilarious babysitters, Mrs. Korjev (and her bears) and Mrs. Ling (and her wok). Even Charlie's enemies are wonderful; I adored the Sewer Harpies with their bickering, evil ways, puppet shows and continually amusing antics. In addition, Moore throws in a few return characters from other books which was a thrill for the Moore fan. I was especially glad to see the Emperor again. Charlie's experiences as a soul collector are both funny and touching. As is so often the case with Mr. Moore, a surprising tenderness turned up on some scenes. There is one scene in particular (the cheese scene--read it and you'll agree with me), that made me step back and say, "Wow! I need to be sure I appreciate life to the fullest!". Terminal illness, hospice care, nurses, and death all received a reverential treatment at his hands--while still being funny in that twisted Moore way. Read it!!

Charlie Asher is a nice, likable and (except for his exceptionally over-worked imagination, common in a "Beta Male") normal guy. At least he was normal, until the day he accidentally walked in on Death--well actually, one of his minions, the dapper and cool Minty Fresh--and finds himself as one of Death's Little Helpers as well, collecting the souls from the newly departed and saving these souls from unscrupulous use by a set of female demons and their wicked lord. Once Charlie gets the hang of it, he finds out that it's not such a bad job, makes him a decent living and gives him plenty of time with his daughter Sophie. There's just one flaw. . . it seems that the Sewer Harpies (as Charlie comes to call the female demons) are growing stronger. So strong in fact, that there will be no other course of action than a ferocious battle for the world, between the forces of good and evil. Charlie is alternatively helped and hindered on his path by the sort of wonderful characters only Moore could create. There's Lily, the wise-cracking teenaged Goth and "creepiness child prodigy" (who quickly became my favorite), and Ray, an ex-police officer searching for love on Asian dating sites. Charlie's sister Jane -the Alpha Male that Charlie isn't- gives Charlie strength and love--all the while looking better in his suits than he does. Even Charlie's daughter Sophie, who grows up before our eyes, has some odd tendencies--bad luck with pets, one very dangerous word, her own personal hounds from hell and the typical child's memory for things that one was not supposed to hear in the first place. Of course, one couldn't expect her to be completely normal, given her father (who was convinced he saw a tail on her six-month sonogram) and the influence of her unintentional hilarious babysitters, Mrs. Korjev (and her bears) and Mrs. Ling (and her wok). Even Charlie's enemies are wonderful; I adored the Sewer Harpies with their bickering, evil ways, puppet shows and continually amusing antics. In addition, Moore throws in a few return characters from other books which was a thrill for the Moore fan. I was especially glad to see the Emperor again. Charlie's experiences as a soul collector are both funny and touching. As is so often the case with Mr. Moore, a surprising tenderness turned up on some scenes. There is one scene in particular (the cheese scene--read it and you'll agree with me), that made me step back and say, "Wow! I need to be sure I appreciate life to the fullest!". Terminal illness, hospice care, nurses, and death all received a reverential treatment at his hands--while still being funny in that twisted Moore way. Read it!!

This fun, witty and well-written fantasy tells of Claire, who lives near a magical stretch of the Mississippi River between Minnesota and Wisconsin and of the adventure, or should I say trouble, she gets into because of her bully of a cousin, Duke. The book opens with Duke hanging her by the ankles off a bridge over the Mississippi: "The river I was hanging over was the Mississippi, which was flooding, all muddy and solid-looking as a freight train, about twenty feet below my ponytail. It was early May. None of the trees had turned green yet, but you could smell it coming fast." Duke's bullying--and the magic of the river--lands him with a rhino-nose, with troll friends and no desire to go back home. That means that Claire, with the help of a magical old lady, other trolls, some lying crickets and some good luck, has to rescue him from a horrible fate. The result is a ripping good yarn combined with colorful, sometimes beautiful, prose. Horns and Wrinkles is now in my top 20 favorite children's fantasies. It was pure chance that I came across it, but now I'm going to give it a blanket recommendation to my friends (adults and children)--read it!

Yosimoto's first book is part romance, part coming of age story, written in an easy style that draws in the reader. It felt real, believable, and had characters that I cared about, that I could be friends with, that I could expect to meet going about my daily life. The story follows Mikage after the death of her grandmother, coming to grips with the death of her only family and her emptiness. She is helped through this tough time by an unexpected offer of friendship and by a discovery of a love of cooking. Another death and more love follow Mikage in the ensuing months and she struggles to handle it as any twenty-something would. While the story was sometimes silly with romance (for me), it was still about real life and for that I liked it. The companion novella is Yosimoto's first published work and also deals with the themes of love and loss through death. This is a much more sentimental story, too much so for my taste, but the elements of the preternatural kept me interested. It ends in a very satisfying, and again real life, ending that just "felt right". I was very enchanted with Yosimoto's easy style and realism and plan to read her more recent novels at some point as well.

What a book, what a masterpiece! A comedy, the likes of which I've never read, with characters so unbelievable real I had to occasional take breaks from reading it. The prose surprised me again and again with such beauty, wit and genius. From the first page, I was held in thrall to Toole's talent: "Full, pursed lips protruded beneath the bushy black mustache and, at their corners, sank into little folds filled with disapproval and potato chip crumbs." The everyday mundane, sometimes disgusting, bits of the lives of these people combined with Toole's writing is just incredible. It makes for such an unforgettable experience. Toole has his some of characters talk his local dialect, which in many books, is so confusing, so difficult to read or to decipher. He makes it work. No, not work, he makes it seamless, perfect, brilliant. I'm not reading their words--I can hear them talking. It's beautiful. The story centers around Ignatius J. Reilly, as does everything if he can make it, an overweight, over-educated, overly demanding man living with his Mamma, holed up in his bedroom, drinking Dr. Nut and scribbling about Medieval history and the problems of today. This has gone on for many years, and would continue for many more except for a family emergency which pushes his Mamma to take the unusual step of standing up to Ignatius and telling him he must get a job. His world is shaken, he is spiraling out of control, Fortuna has spun against him. And thus, with much GI troubles and vitriolic ranting and railing against peoples in general and particular, Ignatius goes out into the world for the second time since college. The omnipotent reader is privy to both the actual facts and often, Ignatius's more flattering description of events as he writes about it later, with the view of future publication, in a Big Chief tablet in his room. There were times I didn't laugh, though, but that was when I saw myself in this gargantuan idealistic slob, this over-educated moron trying to impose his world views on all around him. That's when, instead of laughing, I gave an inwardly embarrassed chuckle and moved on quickly. There's an underlying element of sadness to the novel, to me anyway. Is it knowing this is Toole's only novel and there'll be nothing else to read? Is it knowing that he committed suicide, and feeling that sadness seep into the pages? Or is it simply knowing that Ignatius is destined to bumble every attempt at every thing merely because Fortuna has it out for his overwhelming conceit? I think it's a mix of all three, and this melancholy tempers the outright hilarity, balancing it, making it even more thought-provoking. Other residents of New Orleans find their paths crossed with Ignatius, usually to their dismay, and always find their lives changed in some way as a result. The vagrant, the man afraid of the "comuniss", the girl wanting to be an exotic dancer, and many more. . . One reads about them again and again and wonders, how will they all come together? Trust Toole, he's a genius--the plot themes and characters come together like orchestral themes resulting in a crescendoing finale of stunning proportions, and then stream off again, a solo here, a duet there, until the final page. I was genuinely worried at some points, as to how the book would end, how Toole would leave Ignatius. Never fear, dear reader, as Ignatius himself might have said. It's a masterpiece through and through.

Sky Burial is based on a true story as it was told to the author, Xinran, by the principal character, Shu Wen. Wen's young idealist husband is an Army doctor in 1950's China, sent to Tibet during the time of China's "liberation" of Tibet. They had only been married three weeks when he left, and around 100 days after his departure she received a letter stating he was dead. The lack of explanation of death gave her a hope that perhaps he really wasn't dead, just lost, and she joined the Army as well, in her husband's unit. Herself a dermatologist, they were only too glad to of her request to be sent to Tibet--doctors were much needed on the front. Shortly after reaching Tibet, however, Wen is separated from her unit and spends the next thirty years wandering with a family of nomadic Tibetans, never giving up hope that she will find the answer to her husband's disappearance. The writing is sparse and without a lot of descriptions, and whether it is intentional or because Xinran is in fact a journalist and not a novelist, it works wonderfully for both the untamed Tibetan landscape and the slowly unfolding, sometimes bleak but always beautiful, story. The reader follows Wen, amazed at her tenacity as the years go by, at her unwillingness to give up against such odds. As she becomes more and more comfortable in her Tibetan ways, the reader sees Wen falling in love, unknowingly, with Tibet--and does the same, openly embracing this wild country. Like Wen, the reader can not give up hope, knowing there will be an answer to Wen's search, because such determination and love does not go unrewarded. Subtitled "an epic love story of Tibet", Sky Burial is just that--a love story of a woman for a country as well as her husband; a love story of the reader for Tibet, for Wen, and for Xinran for giving such a gift.

Sky Burial is based on a true story as it was told to the author, Xinran, by the principal character, Shu Wen. Wen's young idealist husband is an Army doctor in 1950's China, sent to Tibet during the time of China's "liberation" of Tibet. They had only been married three weeks when he left, and around 100 days after his departure she received a letter stating he was dead. The lack of explanation of death gave her a hope that perhaps he really wasn't dead, just lost, and she joined the Army as well, in her husband's unit. Herself a dermatologist, they were only too glad to of her request to be sent to Tibet--doctors were much needed on the front. Shortly after reaching Tibet, however, Wen is separated from her unit and spends the next thirty years wandering with a family of nomadic Tibetans, never giving up hope that she will find the answer to her husband's disappearance. The writing is sparse and without a lot of descriptions, and whether it is intentional or because Xinran is in fact a journalist and not a novelist, it works wonderfully for both the untamed Tibetan landscape and the slowly unfolding, sometimes bleak but always beautiful, story. The reader follows Wen, amazed at her tenacity as the years go by, at her unwillingness to give up against such odds. As she becomes more and more comfortable in her Tibetan ways, the reader sees Wen falling in love, unknowingly, with Tibet--and does the same, openly embracing this wild country. Like Wen, the reader can not give up hope, knowing there will be an answer to Wen's search, because such determination and love does not go unrewarded. Subtitled "an epic love story of Tibet", Sky Burial is just that--a love story of a woman for a country as well as her husband; a love story of the reader for Tibet, for Wen, and for Xinran for giving such a gift.

Sky Burial is based on a true story as it was told to the author, Xinran, by the principal character, Shu Wen. Wen's young idealist husband is an Army doctor in 1950's China, sent to Tibet during the time of China's "liberation" of Tibet. They had only been married three weeks when he left, and around 100 days after his departure she received a letter stating he was dead. The lack of explanation of death gave her a hope that perhaps he really wasn't dead, just lost, and she joined the Army as well, in her husband's unit. Herself a dermatologist, they were only too glad to of her request to be sent to Tibet--doctors were much needed on the front. Shortly after reaching Tibet, however, Wen is separated from her unit and spends the next thirty years wandering with a family of nomadic Tibetans, never giving up hope that she will find the answer to her husband's disappearance. The writing is sparse and without a lot of descriptions, and whether it is intentional or because Xinran is in fact a journalist and not a novelist, it works wonderfully for both the untamed Tibetan landscape and the slowly unfolding, sometimes bleak but always beautiful, story. The reader follows Wen, amazed at her tenacity as the years go by, at her unwillingness to give up against such odds. As she becomes more and more comfortable in her Tibetan ways, the reader sees Wen falling in love, unknowingly, with Tibet--and does the same, openly embracing this wild country. Like Wen, the reader can not give up hope, knowing there will be an answer to Wen's search, because such determination and love does not go unrewarded. Subtitled "an epic love story of Tibet", Sky Burial is just that--a love story of a woman for a country as well as her husband; a love story of the reader for Tibet, for Wen, and for Xinran for giving such a gift.

This was an excellent scholarly work, while yet imminently readable. Betcherman follows the vastly different lives of two sisters during 17th century England, with one being immersed in Court life while the other centers her life around home matters. It is a fascinating read and very enlightening for those interested in social history, women's history, 17th century British history, or any combination. I highly recommend it to the casual historian as well as to the more serious scholar.

n this delightful book, Minerva McFearless discovers that her family has been monsterminators for generations--fearlessly fighting evil so that children can sleep safely in their beds. Naturally, she and her younger brother Max want a piece of the action, but their dad think they are too young for such dangers. So, behind his back they secretly study the Monstranomicon and learn all they can about the horrible monsters and how to battle them. And thank goodness they do, because the more than vile Zarmaglorg has his minions kidnap their dad and only Minerva and Max can save him! Well, with some help from Ms. Monstranomicon and the mysterious Mr. Devilstone. While there are spots in this book that might be more trite than others, the author's enthusiasm fills it so full that one can't help but enjoy it. His subtle (and not always so subtle) puns, plays on words and borrowing from other authors (I'm sure Lovecraft would have to have loved the Monstranomicon) make it a treat for adults reading it, while the descriptions of the monsters and the monster repellents in the Monstranomicon have to be enjoyable for everyone. The real gem of the book, though, it's crowing glory is the illustrations. Every page is illustrated lushly, well amusingly anyway, with childlike drawings of monsters, sepia photographs of the action, and various detritus from like moths, rocks, monster blood and gumballs. I couldn't wait to turn the page to see just what would be on the next two pages, and would it have anything to do with the plot, and if so, what? Again, I have to say that Zappa's love for his project is so obvious and his love , and the incredible amount of work that went into the illustrations, glosses over any small faults that The Monstrous Memoirs of a Mighty McFearless does have and rounds it out to a 5/5 reading experience.

It's the 1947, in a small town in Alabama and Sonny's dad has just walked out on them. "You don't know my daddy," the book begins, and Sonny tells the reader of the day his life changed. He knows there has to be something more to the split up than he has been told, and it puzzles him. A few years go by, and the reader sees small town Southern life through Sonny's eyes as he tries to handle his own life without a father, as well as every day living with his sometimes funny, sometimes difficult family. Sonny deals with heartbreak, pain, and love, familial and otherwise, and at last finds peace within himself regarding his father. Sadly, this brief synopsis does nothing for the book. Telling a skeleton outline of the plot with no spoilers and none of Lyon's amazing writing is so unjust! This is an amazing book, with prose that sometimes verges on poetry. Lyon had me laughing out loud with Sonny's predicaments on one page, near tears on another, and spellbound from the sheer beauty of her language so often. She captures the feel of the South so well and so subtly that there are bound to be references that will pass by those uninitiated to Southern culture. I couldn't NOT share a few lines that caught me especially: "It was a sleepy kind of morning, the air like bathwater." "Like some reversible cloth, Mama's laughter flipped over into sobs." "We just stood by the shiny gray coffin with its handles like fancy toilet-paper holders and said "Yes" and "No" and "Thank you" and breathed whatever breaths came by: mint, onion, tobacco, whiskey, and bad." "All the windows had been propped open, but it was one of those afternoons when the air lay on top of you like a big cat, and no waving of cardboard Jesus-at-the-door fans could make it get up and move." My main regret is that I fear the intended audience will not be interested in the subject and that some of the emotional dilemmas may really be too mature for grades 5-8. It would be more appropriate, I think, for older YA readers. I would suggest that a parent of younger readers read it first (I give it a full recommendation for all adult readers) and then decide when/if it's appropriate for their child at that age. Another quibble is that the dust jacket blurb is not very appealing; I only chose to read it because it took place in the South. I really can't see a child picking this up and saying, "oh, this sounds just what I've been wanting to read". It will most likely take an adult pushing it on them to get a child to read it. A new, more interesting cover would be advised. But, as far as the book goes. . . It's a five star read for older YAs and adults. Masterful writing all the way through; I will be looking up her other novels right away.

Ernest is young man growing up in a not-so-typical Pleistocene family. His father, Edward, has invented portable fire and is pushing, pushing, pushing for mankind to evolve at at faster rate. Uncle Vanya thinks they are flirting with disaster, what with all this eating of animal flesh and using fire, and what were they thinking coming down from the trees in the first place, but Father continues on his scientific (and otherwise) experiments. These experiments put Ernest and his brothers in all kinds of interesting predicaments (which, frankly, beats beating flints all day long) as they hurry to advance their horde out of the Pleistocene era into a new and glorious future. This is not a slap-stick funny book, it is an intellectually funny book that also has hilarious moments. I had to go for the dictionary a few times, which was funny in and of itself--getting the dictionary to look up a big word that some caveman is using. It's also an allegory of sorts, a stop and think kind of book. Even while I was laughing my head off about Uncle Vanya warning Father about the dangers of progress and telling him to go back to the trees, I could. . . well, I could see both sides--hear myself in both sides actually. I've never read a book like it, quite frankly. I picked it up because Terry Pratchett mentioned it as his all time favorite book and I can see the attraction. It's one I will have to read again, digest, laugh and think over some more. Lewis' writing is wonderful; droll, dry wit and amazingly detailed description sandwiched in with just darn good writing. His pictures of family life are so real that I dare say he's warped any historical notions I may have had of the Pleistocene era. Overall, this is just a masterful book, but I recognize that I may not be for everyone because it's a book whose humor is not just laid out for you--you have to think a little too.

The Toss of a Lemon is the beautifully written, gently told lifetime story of Sivakami, a Brahmin woman, and her household. The reader follows Sivakami from her marriage ceremony in 1896 at ten, through her widowhood at eighteen, her establishment of her own household (against custom) and then watches the paths taken by Sivakami and her children and grandchildren until death in 1962. The focus easily changes between Sivakami and other family members, presenting a full and fascinating picture of a Brahmin household and of life in India at that time. This was a book I read slowly, not because it was tedious or difficult to read, but because I wanted to savor it, and not miss any, even minor, detail. Unlike many historical novels, The Toss of a Lemon is very realistic in that, though there are many major historical events happening, they are not generally immediately effecting Sivakami and her family. This was quite refreshing and gave this novel the feel of real life. In a way, I was reminded of the novels of Jane Austen, in which not a whole lot happens that might be considered earth shaking and yet, one must keep reading. Sivakami and her family were so well fleshed out, their lives so fully drawn, that I grew to know them, and their domestic concerns were of great importance to me, as well. And while it is a family epic, so to speak, I was not overwhelmed by length of the story or by many changes in characters. The one discordant note in this lovely work is that Ms. Viswanathan tended to switch back and forth between present tense and past tense verbs. I found that to be distracting and as a result, could not give The Toss of a Lemon a full five stars. Despite that, The Toss of a Lemon is truly a wonderful book that brought alive a time and place and culture of which I had no previous knowledge. I most certainly recommend this!

The Toss of a Lemon is the beautifully written, gently told lifetime story of Sivakami, a Brahmin woman, and her household. The reader follows Sivakami from her marriage ceremony in 1896 at ten, through her widowhood at eighteen, her establishment of her own household (against custom) and then watches the paths taken by Sivakami and her children and grandchildren until death in 1962. The focus easily changes between Sivakami and other family members, presenting a full and fascinating picture of a Brahmin household and of life in India at that time. This was a book I read slowly, not because it was tedious or difficult to read, but because I wanted to savor it, and not miss any, even minor, detail. Unlike many historical novels, The Toss of a Lemon is very realistic in that, though there are many major historical events happening, they are not generally immediately effecting Sivakami and her family. This was quite refreshing and gave this novel the feel of real life. In a way, I was reminded of the novels of Jane Austen, in which not a whole lot happens that might be considered earth shaking and yet, one must keep reading. Sivakami and her family were so well fleshed out, their lives so fully drawn, that I grew to know them, and their domestic concerns were of great importance to me, as well. And while it is a family epic, so to speak, I was not overwhelmed by length of the story or by many changes in characters. The one discordant note in this lovely work is that Ms. Viswanathan tended to switch back and forth between present tense and past tense verbs. I found that to be distracting and as a result, could not give The Toss of a Lemon a full five stars. Despite that, The Toss of a Lemon is truly a wonderful book that brought alive a time and place and culture of which I had no previous knowledge. I most certainly recommend this!

Seven knights are sleeping tightly when they are awakened, in ones or twos, by odd music and sounds. As they go to investigate, they each discover the rockin' Monster Ball. A side story, told only in pictures, shows the little prince also trying to see what is going on and meeting a ghost princess in the bargain. The tale is told mostly in rhyme, with some cute lines and some groan-worthy puns. There are times when it seems like the actions just aren't explained well enough, and times when the story-rhymes just don't seem to flow. The fun repetition sounds and bouncy word play make up for a lot, though, and will make it very enjoyable for children in the 4-6 age range, especially those still learning to read or that love the sound of words. The illustrations, on the other hand, are wonderful--a solid 5 stars. Expressive and beautifully colored, these illustrations could probably tell the story on their own, as they do in the parallel story of the prince and princess. An enjoyable book overall, I would expect the words and pictures to make it a favorite for many of the pre-school crowd.

Manning's writing style is very personal, sometimes it feels too personal--as though he were a very intimate friend talking straight to me. This fabulous book is not centered around any one denomination, only around the love of God, for us little ragamuffins. It is a profound book, a moving book, a much needed book for those of us buffeted by doubt and in need of trust. This is not be Manning's most polished book, and at times it seemed a little bit choppy. However, he still brought all of it together so that the ending pointed back to his beginning so beautifully. I highly recommend this, or almost any Manning book, to Christians not bound by religion and looking for a true relationship with a loving God.

In it, we meet Clover Twig, an unusually neat and responsible pre-teen who is applying for a job with the town witch, Mrs. Eckles. It is obvious at once that Mrs. Eckles needs Clover's housekeeping skills and Clover's large family would certainly benefit from the wages. Clover and Mrs. Eckles take a liking to each other, she is hired and the adventure begins. Mrs. Eckles has an evil sister, who covets Mrs. Eckles' ramshackle old cottage, simply because it is not her own, and has been trying for years to steal it. Clover, the cat Neville, and the extremely clumsy delivery boy Wilf find themselves in a battle to keep the cottage for Mrs. Eckles, while she is away at a Fair. When spelled out like that, the plot doesn't sound like much, and some of it is fairly standard children's fantasy--as well as bearing a likeness in some parts to at least one of my favorite authors. On the other hand, there are some good laugh-out-loud bits, the children are likable and when Ms. Umanksy writes about cats, well, it is obvious she knows cats! Also, just when I thought I knew exactly what was going to happen, I received a plot surprise here and there which rounded out to a pleasant story, with an amusing and gratifying ending. On the whole, as an adult who sates herself in fantasy as often as possible, this wasn't an exceptional book. However, I would think that a child, still fresh to the genre, would be enchanted and thoroughly amused. I would certainly recommend it to the young pre-teen, especially female, reader.

With The Marriage Bureau for Rich People, Mr. Zama brings the reader into the colorful world of present-day India, where some marriages are still arranged and caste and/or religion can still be a factor in deciding a good match. Our protagonist, Mr. Ali is retired and his retirement has begun to weigh on both him and his wife. To fill out his free time, he opens a marriage bureau. This will function as a time saver and be more discreet for those who would like to advertise for a match for themselves or their children. Mr. Ali will do the advertising, screen the replies, and start a sort of "club" with a large base of eligible matches. It seems like a good idea, and it is. After a few months, his Marriage Bureau for Rich People is boomimg and his free time is free no more--from one extreme to another! With Mrs. Ali's help, he hires a very pleasant, respectable young woman, Aruna, to help him as secretary and her story is added to the threads of the plot. Along with Aruna's very interesting story is that Mr. and Mrs. Ali with their son and several side stories of clients that lightly touch the main stories. To begin with, The Marriage Bureau for Rich People is a bit slow, and feels as if the author is trying too hard. It is easy to see, in the first pages, that this is his first novel. But as it progresses, it becomes a charming, lovely little story with the feel of a Jane Austen novel. It is refreshing and a delight to the senses; it is also a pleasure to learn so much, in a positive manner, about caste and religion in present-day India. Reading about the marriage ceremonies was a pure delight. I will be honest, I do not like romance novels, but the romance that was gradually slid into this novel was similar to that of my favorite author, Jane Austen, so I was pleased with it, and not annoyed. Over all, despite it's slow start, I found this a delicious little book and give it a high recommendation. I had to give it only four stars, instead of the five stars that it emotionally elicited, due to the slow start and sometimes not perfect writing. I do hope to see more from Mr. Zama, as he has a wonderful way of bringing the reader into his world.

Autism and Me: Sibling Stories is a short, but lovely book, directed at the young siblings of children who have been diagnosed with Autism. These one page essays are written by the typical siblings about their relationship with their brother or sister with Autism. In the essays, the children are generally quite honest--one admits to being embarrassed by his brother--but yet they all show that despite the differences these pairs still have a loving relationship. The amazing photos show the pairs doing activities that can be done by both, and show the maximum affection that can be shown in each case. I work with children with Autism and Asperger's Syndrome, and I know from personal experience that the typical sibling/atypical sibling relationship is a top concern for most parents--as well as the typical siblings. This beautiful little book would be a good one for the typical sibling of this age group to read (perhaps with the parent) so that he/she will know that his/her case is not unique and that others out there have succeeded in this same situation. Granted, siblings older than this age group may not find it appealing, may feel that it sugar coats and may want a book that talks more about how to actually deal with a sibling with Autism. That is not this book, nor should the reader wish it to be. This book is directed at a younger audience, meant to give encouragement to that particular demographic who is wondering if brother or sister will ever really play with, or love, or even notice them. I will be recommending this to the families of my preschoolers to read with older sibling in the recommended age group and I am appreciative to the author, and her niece and nephew, for the creation of this fine little book.

In The Hair of Zoe Fleefenbacher Goes to School , we meet Zoe and her lovely, wild, untamed red locks. Her hair is so voluminous that, as a baby, she needed two strollers; one for herself and one for her hair. Not only is her hair plentiful and beautiful, it is also talented. Her hair can turn on the tv, pet the cat, pour juice AND play on the computer--all at the same time. . . while Zoe sleeps! When Zoe started school, her Kindergarten teacher loved Zoe and her tresses, giving chores to the hair while the students napped. Unfortunately, one Zoe's first day of First Grade, her new teacher lets her differing views be known immediately. "School has rules," says Ms. Trisk, "no wild hair in my class." Naturally, this stirs up the rebel in Zoe's hair, and to Zoe's embarrassment, her hair does all sorts of naughty things to annoy Ms. Trisk. Will Zoe, her hair and Ms. Trisk find a happy medium? I'll go ahead and tell you: Yes! This book is about compromise and individuality, how both parties can give and take with a satisfying outcome. Though Ms. Trisk is in the wrong, there is never a question about Zoe, or her parents, following Ms. Trisk's instructions. I liked this, in that it isn't showing a rebellion against a teacher, rather a willingness to compromise. The illustrations are lovely. Zoe's amazing hair is not a vivid, overpowering red, but rather a true to form orangey red that one sees on people daily. His illustrations are also light and engaging, adding more depth to the story. I think this is a delightful book and could certainly give across a message of cooperation, especially if discussed afterward. For younger children, who might not understand such a message, the amusing story and lively illustrations will make a pleasure to read.

The Dud Avocado tells the story of Sally Jay Groce, fresh out of college and ready to live life to it's fullest in Paris. Once in Paris, she goes "more native than the natives" trying to cram as much "living" as she can in two short years. Sally Jay's attempts to live it up lead her into many roles, from mistress to actress to homebody, and she embraces every role with gusto--usually with disastrous results. Dundy's fifty-year-old classic is fresh and witty, and sometimes a bit racy, and her prose is as close to perfection as one can find. Add this to Sally Jay, a protagonist so alive and real, and it is easy to see why this book gained such a following upon publication. Here is an excerpt from chapter 3, one of my favorite bits, to give an example of the delicious flavor of the Dud Avocado: "At eleven o'clock that night, in one of my dangerous moods--midnight-black, excited and deeply dreading (as opposed to one of my beautiful midnight-blue ones, calm but deeply excited), my nerves strung taut to singing, I arrived at the Ritz, only to discover all over again what a difficult thing this was to do. I tended to loose my balance at the exact moment that the doorman opened the cab door and stood by in his respectful attitude o f"waiting." I have even been known to fall out of the cab by reaching and pushing against the handle at the same time that he did. But this time, however, I had disciplined myself to remain quite, quite still, sitting on my hands until the door was opened for me. Then, burrowing into my handbag, which suddenly looked like the Black Hole of Cacutgta, to find the fare, I discovered that I needed a light. A light was switched on. I needed more than a light, I needed a match or a flashlight or special glasses, for I simply couldn't find my change purse, and when I did (lipstick rolling on the floor, compact open and everything spilled--passport,m mirror, the works) I couldn't find the right change. We were now all three of us, driver, doorman and I, waiting to see what I was going to do next. I took out some bills, counted them three times in the dark until I was absolutely certain that I had double the amount necessary, and then pressed it on the driver, eagerly apologizing for overtipping. Overcome with shyness I nodded briefly in the direction of the doorman and raced him to the entrance. I just won. Panting and by now in an absolute ecstasy of panic I flung myself at the revolving doors and let them spin me through. Thus I gained access to the Ritz." I guffawed out loud so often throughout the Dud Avocado; I read parts aloud to my husband; I laughed at and cried with Sally Jay. . . in short, I lived this book. It was pure joy to read, and one that I will certainly read a second time.

Angel Tungaraza moved to Kigali, Rwanda from her native Tanzania when her husband took a job at the local university. An accomplished cake maker, Angel adds extra income to her large family and gives herself much joy by making custom-ordered cakes for friends, neighbors, and strangers who have heard the good word about her fabulous creations. In addition to being a "professional someone" (as she would call herself), Angel is Mama to her five orphaned grandchildren, confidant of friends and strangers, and a true example of a good woman. Each chapter centers around one of Angel's cakes, giving the reader shorter stories inside the larger story. It is a story of family, of community, of all manners of love and reconciliation, and of course, of beautiful cakes. I wish I could explain the plot better, to show how desirable a read this is, but I simply can't. Suffice it to say that it is a surprisingly complex plot, despite this books benign face, with Angel facing several interesting ethical issues as well as the range of various good, bad and amusing situations. Ms. Parkin uses the fact that Angel is an outsider to Rwanda to easily explain the current situation and the bloody past of this country. It never feels contrived; the explanations happen very naturally--as does most everything in this book. . . It all feels very natural. Customs are clarified, situations set up, the reader gently led here and there and yet, it just feels "real" and lifelike, always smooth and believable. Even the conversations, held in a manner so different from Western conversations, become so real that when a Westerner does appear, using typical Western speech, it seems brash and out of context. This is truly a masterpiece, a first novel of the highest quality. It is a lovely, heartwarming book that sparkles with gentle wit, at times tugs the heartstrings, but is above all, a joyful experience. I can not recommend this novel highly enough. What a pleasure, what a delight.

Don't let the title fool you! A College of Magics is far more than a school story. It is a very deep, satisfying plot with many surprises. I was enthralled from beginning to end. Stevermer's writing is deliberate and stately and suits the subject matter perfectly. Her alternate universe, an imaginary European nation in the 1910's in a world where magic is not uncommon, is real and believable. Her characters, Faris and Jane especially, are well fleshed and engaging. On the whole, this is one of the best novels I've read this year and I am delighted I stumbled across it!

Prepare to go blind with the horrible photos and become ill from laughing so hard! James Lileks, snarky, sarcastic and amazingly funny, has put together a book of heinous homes and caustic comments that will leave you gasping for breath. This is a must read for anyone who ever wore strips with checks.

This book will make you sick--with laughter. James Lileks is s snarky, sarcastic and adorable with a sense of humor that will leave you rolling in the floor. This book is no different. You may regret looking at the food, but you'll never regret reading the book!

I love James Lileks. He is snarky, sarcastic and adorable and Mommy Knows Worst is no exception. It is filled with vintage clips of parenting advice coupled with his quips about it. Side-splittingly funny, sometimes painfully so. My husband and I both love this man, and read his blog regularly. He's like Garrison Keiler, just more sardonic. Mommy Knows Worst is a gem, an absolute gem!