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Folks, this is it. This is the book that has convinced me that the world of self-published books is worth exploring. I came across this book by finding the author's blog. I was intrigued enough from what I read there to give her book a try, and I'm glad that I did. I loved Bravo's writing-it is at least as good as anything that comes out of a major publishing house (and, in many cases, better!). She has a fun readable style that is very reminiscent of Rainbow Rowell. Yet, Bravo's real strength is in building characters. Wendy is a well-rounded and complex character, which shouldn't be surprising as she is the main character of the novel. However, Bravo takes the same care with all of the characters of this book, which really brought Wendy's world to life with me. It was surprising because in most books, even books that I consider exceptional, the secondary characters just aren't as full as the main characters. So, bravo for Bravo. This book is told between two time periods--the present day, when Wendy and Simon are both going to be a part of their friends' wedding, and "the past" starting when the two met 10 years earlier. It does alternate chapter by chapter, but Bravo does a good job of bridging the two narratives. At times, though, I wished that she had combined some of the "then" sections so that she could have 2-3 "now" chapters for each "then" chapter. I do want to talk a bit about the genre of this book. I did note early on that I wasn't quite sure what genre Bravo was going for, young adult or new adult. In truth, the book reads well through both lenses--which really is not a detriment as young adult and new adult are pretty much Irish twins in the literary world. But there is something much more interesting when it comes to genres here. Wendy is a devout Catholic. In fact, she meets Simon--and most of the secondary characters--at a youth retreat. Wendy's faith is important, not just in terms of character development, but also in terms of plot. While this book is not "preachy" in the least, the presence of this character's faith would cause any major publisher to slap a "Christian" title on it. But, there is also a lot of drinking, some illusions to drug use, implied sex, and a whole army of f-bombs here--none of which any publisher would allow in a work of "Christian" fiction (and pretty much all of it was important to the story). So, if Bravo had gone the "traditional" publishing route, she would either have had to take out Wendy's spirituality, which would have flattened the main character, or taken out all the other stuff, which would have flattened all the other characters and sucked the life out of the world she created. By self-publishing, she wasn't forced to conform to one genre or another and her story benefited from it. There was one aspect of this book that didn't work for me. I really felt that this story should have been told in the first person voice. As it is, Bravo uses a close third person point of view, much like you would find in a book where the narrative shifts between two characters--which is what I thought this story would be when I started (it isn't--and that's a good thing!). My guess is that Bravo probably would have been more successful using Wendy as a narrator. As it was, there were several points in the book where I was suddenly reminded that the book was in third person and I thought that Bravo had switched viewpoints on me--which resulted in my re-reading sections and interrupting the flow of the book. However, that really is a small point against all the other strengths of the novel (and, I'm a critical reader, so many readers may not even pick up on it). I was wonderfully surprised by this book and now consider myself a Jenny Bravo fan and I urge readers to brave the world of self-published novels to read this gem.

The first time I heard of this book, it was prefaced with "the best book of 2015!" I decided that, for a change, I'd try to beat the hype on this one. I can't say that I was entirely successful with that as I continued to hear and read the merits of this book as I began to read. And, honestly, I was perplexed. You see, this book was just painful to read. I'm not talking about the subject matter--while I quickly tired of Lotto and Mathilde's rather narcissistic life, I didn't find anything they did that objectionable (or, frankly, interesting). The language of the book, at least in the first section, is overly stylized in a way that makes it overly laborious to slog through. I found the constant asides that Groff includes--they litter the first section and are used occasionally in the second--disruptive to the flow of the narrative. The second part of the book is better than the first. The first, "Fates" is told from Lotto's point of view and the second, "Furies" from Mathilde's. Both sections tell roughly the same story, but from the two different viewpoints. Mathilde's story is far more interesting than Lotto's and the language in her section is more organized and easier to read. I'm perplexed as to why Groff spent so much time on Lotto's narrative and not as much on Mathilde's as more actually happens in the latter (the book is 60% Lott and 40% Mathilde). As I was reading this, I had posted in a couple of different places that I was having trouble with this book and the response I would receive would be to hang in there, the 2nd half makes it all worth it. I'm not arguing that the second half (or last 40%) is much better than what comes before it, but does it make up for the "Fates"? A number of readers believe so, but I am not one of them. Groff lost me with this book and, by the time Mathilde got to tell her story, I was too far gone. I applaud Groff for what she was trying to do here--I do appreciate when writers "color outside the lines." However, in this case, it just did not work at all for me and I don't think I would recommend this book to anyone, despite all the buzz it is getting.

I had to think about this book for a few days after I finished it to decide how much the hype around it affected my experience reading it. I do realize that I'm one of the last people on the planet to read this....which means I went into reading this knowing that it was supposed to be spectacular. Did I find it spectacular? Not at all. There was much I liked about it. Hawkins has a great writing style and sh mastered the pace of the book so that not only did she control the rate at which information became to available to the reader, but also so that she could build up the necessary dramatic tension. The story is told through the eyes of 3 women, which sounds like a disaster. Hawkins, however, successfully develops three distinct voices so that the reader is never confused about who is who. Rachel, the main character, is expertly drawn. She is at rock bottom at the start of the book and manages to go lower and lower. My reaction to her was not that she was unlikable, but that she was pitiful and I believe that was what Hawkins was going for with her. The story itself is interesting, although I will admit to figuring out the mystery well before I think the author wanted me to. For most of my life, that would be a major strike against the book. However, I've become such a critical reader in the past few years that I've learned to just accept that as par for the course in my reading now. Because of that, I don't think I'm a good source for someone wanting to know if they'll be surprised by twists and turns in this book. My biggest problems with the book was that I couldn't find a single character to really root for. As I said, Rachel was pathetic to the point that she felt like a lost cause. All the other major characters, whoever, were just downright unlikable. I couldn't stand any of them. I think Hawkins tried to make two of the minor characters--Megan's therapist and Rachel's roommate--somewhat "nice" but she essentially failed on both counts. Megan's therapist, well, makes some bad choices. Rachel's roommate, Cathy, on the other hand, is just downright unbelievable. Most of the time, she's little Miss Sunshine and, when she's not, she doesn't really have any teeth in her bite. I'm not saying that Hawkins needed a nice hero in this book somewhere but, as a reader, I needed someone--even a minor character--that I felt had some humanity and who I could root for. Without that, I never felt completely pulled into the book. In line with that, I really felt that there was some serious male-bashing in this book. The men, like everyone else, are not "nice," but they are not nice in very stereotypical and predictable ways. I wish Hawkins had found a more unique way to create the male characters and had stayed away from tired cliches. In the end, The Girl on the Train didn't live up to the hype for me, nor did I feel that it was unique enough to deserve all the hype. However, I can recognize why others would enjoy this book. While I would recommend this book, I would be selective on who I would recommend it to. This book is really for people who are looking for something dark and twisty and are able to get sucked into a book without needing a character for them to root for.

Jennifer Weiner is one of my go-to authors. I find her incredibly entertaining, but not fluffy. She is amusing without being comic and touching without being maudlin. Mostly, I enjoy her take on modern women's lives. This particular book has a special bit of notoriety in my reading life: it is the title that drew me out of the worst reading slump I've ever encountered. On the whole, I enjoyed this book However, I can't say that I enjoyed all of it. The love story is pretty straightforward, but I never felt that in lacked in complexity. While I didn't find it to be one of those love stories that just knocked the breath out of me, it was an entertaining one to read I enjoyed how Andy's character developed. He's quite different from other characters that Weiner has created and I found his growth both natural and surprising. I understood his emotions as portrayed in the book and his actions made sense (even if they sometimes made me furious). Rachel was a different story for me. Frankly, she's a mess. I don't mean she's an emotional mess (or a slob), but she is messily constructed. She is initially presented as being defined by her heart condition and I found that interesting. However, that is dropped completely as she grows older. I understand that her condition is under control, but it was such a formative influence on her early life and then it was just sort of erased from her character. I also found the trajectory of her character frustrating. She starts as a young girl with a heart condition, then she is a teenager looking for love. Once she goes to college, she becomes a shallow sorority sister who doesn't seem to be at all connected to her childhood. Then, the next time she appears, she's the complete opposite of what she was as she becomes a social worker working with families in need. Finally, she becomes, well, a character I know I've read in other books by Jennifer Weiner--the unsatisfied Jewish woman who, in her mind, is just not good enough. That on its own is fine, except that Weiner has used that trope a bit too frequently in her books. At the end of it all, I was never able to form any kind of connection with Rachel and I wished that the book had been Andy's story, with Rachel as a supporting character. The book is told from Andy's and Rachel's viewpoints in alternating chapters. This in itself is fine--and probably necessary for the way Weiner had constructed the book. But I found it disconcerting that Andy's chapters were in 3rd person and Rachel's were in 1st person. I can't say I have a preference of one viewpoint over the other, but constantly switching between the two created what I considered an unnecessary challenge for the reader. Weiner includes a lot of cultural detail in this book. At first, I loved it--these characters are about my age and, when I was reading their stories in their younger years, I became very nostalgic. As the story--and time in the story--progressed, however, it began to just be gimmicky to me. Andy and Rachel found themselves in the midst of several "generation defining" events, the two most notable being 9/11 and the athletic doping scandals. The latter was necessary for the story, but the former seemed a little too, well, Forrest Gump-ish to me. But, as I said, I did enjoy this book--enough that it pulled me out of my slump (and, trust me, that is quite an accomplishment). Do I think it was Weiner's best work? No. (I'd still go to In Her Shoes for that....), but it certainly wasn't her worst. If you are looking for a not-so-fluffy love story and are willing to overlook a few flaws, Who Do You Love might be for you.

hink everyone just needs to agree with this fact: you can never have too much WWII Historical Fiction. I'm sure that there are readers, somewhere, who reading nothing but WWII Historical Fiction and they are never lacking for material. Even if you aren't one of those readers, this is definitely a book to consider. This is a fast paced book--although one could probably guess that just from the title. The plot is constantly moving as the action moves through Europe. Yet, among all this, Clayton is still able to successfully develop the three main characters. The story is told in first person, from Jane's point of view, which I found interesting choice given the circumstance. While she tells the story, she more of an observer than an active participant. Liv is clearly the center of this book. She is the one who wants to make it to Paris and she is the one who has the most to prove by doing so. Jane and Fletcher tend to orbit Jane. I really enjoyed how Clayton explored the relationship between Liv, Fletcher, and Jane. It's a difficult dynamic and she doesn't shy away from it. I loved all the historical detail in this book and it is rare that I feel that I learned anything new when reading historical fiction (I read quite a bit of it and I have a degree in History, so I go into these books with my feet already wet). I had yet to read an account of this period of World War II from a journalistic point of view, so that was a nice change for me. I do feel that I have to put this out there, though. This book is what I would consider "heavy" on the history--there are a lot of details and, even though Clayton expertly weaves them into the narrative, some readers might find this book to be bogged down by them all. I would not necessarily call this a strike against the book, but I would take it into consideration when recommending it to someone. I think you really need to be into the history to truly enjoy this book. I had one gripe about this book--it wasn't especially major, but it was big enough that it did impact my enjoyment of the overall book. As I said, the book is told in first person from Jane's point of view. I have no problems with the first person point of view, but there are some pitfalls with it--and Clayton falls into one. There are passages scattered throughout the book where Jane relates scenes she is not a part of and is able to tell what is going on inside someone else's head. There are boundaries with any point of view, and probably more with the first person than any other, and Clayton sometimes steps over those boundaries. This was an exciting and action-packed, yet not flawless, read. I enjoyed my experience reading it and I would recommend it to other fans of serious Historical Fiction.

I really don't know if there is a book out there that is more suited to my tastes than this one. I love food and cooking (well, I don't always love cooking--but I love the idea of cooking), I love short story collections (this is a short story collection in novel form, if that makes any sense), and I love the Midwest. So, you know, sign me up. This book lived up to all of my expectations and then some. The mechanics of this book are unique, which is something I don't come across too often. As I said, it is a short story collection in novel form. By that, I mean that each chapter is a distinct chapter, but they are all tied together through the character of Eva Thorvald. So, is Eva the main character? Well, yes and no. She is definitely the axis around which this book turns, but she appears less and less in the book as it progresses. In turn, other characters take center stage as their lives are touched in surprising ways by Eva. Honestly, if someone told me this was how it went, I never would have thought it would work But it does--marvelously. At its heart, this is a story of parents and children, specifically mothers and daughters--but you don't see that until you've read the last word. Stradal is not overbearing with his theme and lets it develop organically over all the stories he includes. I appreciated that I wasn't hit over the head with THIS IS WHAT THIS BOOK IS ABOUT and that Stradal let me discover it on my own. And the food! Yes, there are recipes and I have a mostly love, but a little hate relationship with recipes in novels. I appreciate them but, unless they are collected at the end of the book, I find that they sometimes break up the flow of the narrative. Stradal not only doesn't save the recipes for the end, he puts them right smack dab in the middle of the narrative. Again, this should irritate the heck out of me, but he does it in a way that actually works. This is partly because there aren't that many recipes and also because, when he does include them, it is part of the action of the plot. Oh, and you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll be making Pat Prager's Peanut Butter Bars in the very near future! Let me close with this, several people that I know will most likely receive copies of this book for Christmas. It is that good!

When I said that I was reading this book, a number of people told me how much they loved Pam Jenoff's books. I was a little ashamed to admit that this is the first of her novels that I've read. But, I can say now, that it definitely won't be the last. This book had a lot going for it with me from the get go. I love immigrant stories and World War II historical fiction. Addie is a strong female character who is working to make it on her own but is enamored by the big Irish family next door (at least during the summer). Jenoff delivers on all these points and then some. I really enjoyed Jenoff's voice. The story is told from Addie's point of view and she sounds like, well, like a young woman in the early 40's--not like an author from the early 21st century. I also really appreciated that Addie faced not only the obvious challenges like, oh, World War II but also some more subtle ones, such as gender equality in relationships. This book is all over the place, but I mean that in a good way. Addie travels from Italy to the United States and then to England and back, but the action of the only spans 4 years. I found it fascinating how much Addie's world changed in such a short time, but I did question how easily she was able to travel across the Atlantic at pretty much the spur of the moment during wartime. It shouldn't be a surprise that Addie is the most developed character, but Jenoff keeps the supporting cast from becoming to static. Each of the Connally brothers has a distinct personality, which helps to keep them straight at times. I also liked how Jenoff drew Addie's Aunt Bess. The impression the reader has of her is clearer (and fairer) than the one that Addie gives us. This was a perfect read at the perfect time for me. It was an intriguing read that kept my attention with a fast plot and tight writing, but it wasn't so heavy that it became a chore. I would definitely recommend this book and I know I'll be reading more by Pam Jenoff in the future.

It is no secret that I, like so many others, loved Christina Baker Kline's Orphan Train, which was her most recent novel. Sweet Water was her first novel, and it shows how much she's grown as a writer. That's a polite way of saying this book is downright painful. First off, a warning...I will probably tiptoe into spoiler territory. I try to avoid that when I write reviews, but I'm kind of in the "why bother" mode in this one. So, if you still want to read this book at this point, you may want to tune out now. I will say that Kline's writing talent is evident here. Her prose is readable and mature, but not heavy-handed. The problem with this book is not in the writing, it is in the construction. The plot is barely there and ill-defined. Is it about Cassie trying to "find what she's looking for" with her mother's family? Is it about Cassie's Grandmother's secret? Is it about Cassie's quest to find out what happened to her mother? The answer to all those is this: um, kinda, sorta? I don't think Kline ever had a clear idea of what this book was about and the reader certainly doesn't as they make their way through the story. Then there are the stereotypes of southerners. Let's see...we have the catty frenemies, the holier than thou preacher's wife, the wild child (there are a couple of those), the old drunk, and the town gossip. All of these characters have shown up in any number of superficial Southern novels, movies, or TV shows. And, if that wasn't enough, there is probably one of the most offensive (and, really, inaccurate) Southern stereotypes out there. I'll give you a second....yep. We have a fair dose of explicit cousin on cousin action. Now, Kline does try to diffuse the situation by stating that they aren't "real cousins" because one of them is adopted. But, then she includes a few post-coital observations about how much the two look alike--very pointed observations (which are both yucky and annoying because she never closes that loop...). Yes, I know...you need a shower now. As I said, the one positive aspect was Kline's language. It was the one thing--well, that and the fact that I knew what she could do in Orphan Train that kept me going. However, I'm not going to let this book turn me off Kline's writing. As I said, this was her first novel and, when you compare it to her latest, you can see how much she has grown. If anything, it makes me more likely to read her next book. But, save yourself from the experience of this book and just take my word on it, okay?

This was one of those books that was....exactly what you would think it would be. That isn't a bad thing...it just is what it is. I think the first issue that I should address is the similarity between this book and A.J. Jacob's The Year of Living Biblically. Yes, they are similar--and Evans even mentions that in one point. However, I really feel that Evans has the upper hand in this face off. For one thing, this book has a better focus than A.J. Jacobs' work. While Jacobs seems to come from the viewpoint of, "Hey, let's try to be religious," Evans goes into her project to explore an issue--Biblical Womanhood--that she encounters in her own life. I will admit I had a little trouble categorizing this book in my mind. On one hand, there is a definitely "Christian Living" element to that. However, while Evans does talk about her own faith, the book itself is more of a cross between a memoir and historical research. This isn't a book I would say is JUST for Christians. It doesn't come across as preachy at all and non-Christian readers, provided they are tolerant of others' beliefs, would probably enjoy it as well, In fact, if there was a group who would be more likely to be offended by this book, it would be Conservative Evangelical Christians. I really enjoyed Evans's writing. It was casual and conversational, but not at all glib. She is very respectful of beliefs that don't match her own--and my favorite parts were when she referred to Orthodox Judaism and her virtual friend who was serving as her expert. She also includes some of her husband's diary entries, which adds a nice dimension to her narrative. She did visit some communities and people who were on the more extreme ends of the spectrum--the Amish, a polygamist, a quiverfull follower. I will say that, while these episodes were interesting, they didn't stick with me as much as other parts of the books. Mostly, I remember reading Evans' mishaps as she tried to adopt some extreme behaviors. All in all, it was a readable, if not exactly surprising, book. I would recommend it to most anyone, and would definitely recommend it over other similar books.

Here we have a book featuring a baker and, honestly, I felt like it was baked in a microwave. Some parts were perfect, some parts were overdone and tough, and some parts were raw and undeveloped. I'm left feeling deflated because, what I liked about this book, I really, really liked. Ramona is a fantastic character. She has a history--she was an unwed teen mother who recently broke with her family and started her own business. She's guarded, as one might expect, but still yearning for companionship. I appreciated that she was human, not perfect. While I rooted for her without, I could still she that she had her own flaws. O'Neal presents four major plots here (and four, for a book like this, is just too many). Ramona is struggling in her business and wondering what her next steps are. Her very pregnant daughter's husband was critically wounded and must go to him, which understandably causes Ramona worry and stress. Ramona is also needed to become the guardian to her tween step-granddaughter. And, to top all this off, there is a romantic element when "a man from her past" comes back on the scene. I know that it is the romance that is the selling point of this book, but I felt that this was the least necessary (and least interesting) aspect of the book. Honestly, O'Neal could have lifted that entire plot and its character out of the book and still have enough for a good novel. Or, if this book really was meant to be a "romance," one or two of the other plots should have been left out. I did think that O'Neal's writing was tight and readable, but I did have one complaint. I'm not a prude, but detailed sex scenes (or, as my mother calls them, "biology lessons") are rather annoying, especially if they don't fit in with the fabric of the book. The more intimate scenes just didn't fit with the narrative style of the rest of the book (but, as I said before, that whole plot didn't really fit). At times, I felt almost as if she had outsourced those pages while she wrote the rest of the book. Another thing that bugged me...there is a supernatural element in this book. I have nothing against supernatural elements, but I feel that they have to be handled with care. I wouldn't say that O'Neal isn't committed to this element--she follows it throughout the book--but I really felt that she should have handled it differently. How, exactly, I'm not sure. Perhaps she should have made it a larger part of the whole story...I don't know. What I do know is that it just didn't quite jive here. I don't want to give the impression that I hated this book. As I said, I really enjoyed the main character. The plot(s) also kept me going until the end, even if they sometimes left me scratching my head. This is a lighter read and problems in books like that are easier to forgive. In the end, it was still an entertaining read and is great when you just need something lighter to read when you have a few minutes here and there.

As anyone who has had any contact with me while I was reading this, they already know that I did not enjoy this book. In fact, I've said--and I stand by he sentiment--that if I, myself, had not been the one to recommend this to my book club, I would have DNF'd it. I know, what a way to start out a review...but stick with me here There were two things that really bothered me about this book. First of all, I'm just tired of books about the intelligentsia of New York. I don't mean the actors, writers, etc of New York, but the rich folk whose talent seems to be more due to their birth and trust funds than any skills they develop. Secondly, the sort of turning point plot line hit a bit too close to home for me as it was very reminiscent of some things going on with people close to me, But, you see, while those are valid reasons for me not to like this book, I will admit that they are very subjective reasons. Because of that, I can't base on whether or not I would recommend this book on how I felt about it. So, let me try to take my feelings out of this and look at the mechanics of the book. There were things that I did like this book, and things that I found problematic. I enjoyed Woltizer's writing--it kept me engaged, which is saying a lot since I didn't actually like the book. She does an impressive job of placing the narrative in time. This story spans from the early 70's to the current day and the reader always feels like they are in the same time as the characters. One of my favorite scenes was near the end (not a spoiler!) where the two elderly owners of the camp are reminiscing about the camp's glory days--I was immediately transported to the scene in Dirty Dancing where Max Kellerman and Tito Suarez are talking about how things are not like they used to be in the Catskills (and it is always a good thing when a book evokes Dirty Dancing!). I felt the characters well-rounded, but I can't say that I liked any of them. In fact, the only character I did like was the tertiary Rory, who is fun and wild and doesn't fit at all with the her family and the other characters in the book. Then there is the issue of Jonah. There is nothing wrong with the character of Jonah--except the fact that he is completely superfluous to this book. He could be completely lifted out of the narrative and it would have no impact on the story whatsoever. In fact, there were times when I completely forgot about him--only to have him turn up and have 100 pages devoted to him. Ultimately, if I take my own personal feelings out of this book, I will admit that there were some great things about it and some things that just did not work. Would I recommend it? Well, I probably wouldn't offer up this title as a recommendation, but if someone asked if they should read it, I'd tell them to go ahead. They might like it. Or they might not.

Some books are just more "bookish" than others. I know that sounds crazy--how can books be more or less bookish?--but it is true. This is a book for people who love books, and who understand the power of literature. A.J. Fikry is a prickly fellow when we first meet him, still reeling from the death of his wife several years earlier, and determined to drink himself to death. Then, things change and, due to circumstance, he begins to let a few more people into his life. I liked that A.J. was rather prickly when we first met him and, even though his life circumstances change dramatically, he still maintains a bit of that prickliness. Too often, characters make an unrealistic transformations where they go from angry, bitter, what have you to bundles of joy and rainbows. A.J. is not like that....he is who he is. I loved the fictional island of Alice. Zevin created a quaint town and brought it to life without going all Lake Wobegon on it (Lake Wobegon is great, but a town as "full" of that would not have worked there). There were a few "townsfolk" who were brought into the main narrative, which was just enough for a novel of this scope. I was immediately sucked into the narrative in a way where I was happy to just go along with what has happening,so I didn't think too much about what was coming next in the plot. Because of that, I personally didn't find the plot predictable, but I can't speak for others. There were a couple minor things that bugged me. Some of the time jumps were just a bit too long for my tastes. I would have preferred more time jumps of less time that less time jumps of greater time. There was also a character, who was set up to be a major player, that was cut out of the plot rather abruptly and, in my opinion, in a clumsy manner. Still, these complaints are minor and they don't change the fact that this is one of the most enjoyable books I've read all year. I would recommend it to any reader.

This is one of those cases where, even though I have some real concrete complaints about this book--and complaints that would lead me to DNF another book--I just could not stop reading this and, as much as I hate to admit this, I enjoyed the experience, even if I can't say that I enjoyed the book. I had heard quite a bit about this book in the months since it had been published, but much of what I heard was mixed, so the bar was--well, there was no bar for my expectations going into the reading. This is not a Cozy Mystery, but it definitely has some of the hallmarks of that sub-genre: The somewhat of a buttinsky main character who becomes an amateur detective, a close-knit society (in this case, the LDS ward), and the relatively clean storytelling. However, it is much darker than a cozy mystery and lacks any of the (intentional) quirkiness that one would find in those books. The fact that this book was somewhere between a Cozy Mystery and a Thriller might have been what sucked me in. I am not a Mormon, although I grew up in an area with a large LDS population, so I know maybe just a tad more than the basics about the religion, but I can't say I have any first-hand experience. I did notice from other reviews that people are split as to whether this book is an accurate description of the Mormons or not. I don't know, but I will say that the details were at least interesting, but my views of the LDS remain unchanged. I can't say that I found the characters to be especially dynamic--Linda, as the main character, was the most developed, but I didn't really feel that she grew as a person as the book progressed. The other characters all seemed pretty one-dimensional, which I can mostly overlook. I did wish that she had given Linda's husband, Kurt, more personality. I also felt that she left a couple character points unfinished--specifically with two of her sons. It felt like she was going to explore something with them, but it never happened. There are actually two mysteries in this book that are related thematically, although they are separate in the plot. Strangely, it works here and Harrison handles juggling these two plots well. Harrison's writing style isn't particularly memorable, but I didn't feel like I was tripping over her prose. I did wish, however, that she infused more emotion into her words. Plot-wise, this book moved at a good clip. There were plenty of twists and turns so that I stayed interested, but things did get melodramatic at the end, which was a letdown for me. But, my biggest problem with this book was something else: victim shaming. There was a character in this book who does a fair amount of victim shaming--I'm not saying that victim shaming is ever acceptable, but it was done as part of his character so it isn't anything I can hold against Harrison or this book. Yet, as the story progressed--probably the last 3rd of the book or so--I would say that Harrison herself does a fair amount of victim shaming with the choices she makes about a character and their actions. It didn't really fit with what was going on and, frankly, had it come up earlier in the book, it may have led me to DNF the whole thing. Frankly, I'm not really sure what to say about this book. It has problems--some I can overlook and some I can't. The experience of reading this book was an enjoyable one, even if I can't say that I enjoyed the book once I was finished with it. I may still recommend it, though, depending on the reader and what they are looking for.

This is one of those books that has been near the top of my TBR list for over a year, but it kept getting pushed aside for other books. Then, I received a copy through one of my postal book clubs and had to read it...and I'm so thankful that I did. I have to admit that I was familiar with Jess Walter as a person, but not as an author before reading this. I listen to the podcast he does with Sherman Alexie and the two make a great pair. However, I couldn't quite picture the person from the podcast writing a story as chronicled in the summary. Luckily, it turns out that the man and the story merge perfectly. Reading this book felt like an extravagant vacation--the reader goes to Rome, to a small village on the Italian coastline, to Hollywood, to Idaho, to London and Edinburgh, and to Beaverton (although that last one probably doesn't fall into the "vacation" category!). Obviously, this book is all over the place--not just geographically, but also chronologically. I was worried about that, but it did work for me in this case. I was able to follow all the story lines without any problem. The characters are what really make this book work. I won't go into the specifics about each one (like story lines, characters abound here), but I will say that I found myself relating to all of them, including the one really unlikable (yet entertaining) character. Because there are so many people and story lines, Walter explores facets of the characters instead of developing the entire character. In another book, I would find this annoying. However, there is more than enough here so that Walter's approach is successful. All in all, this was a lovely and satisfying book, with something for every reader. I would recommend it to anyone without hesitation.

Let me start by saying that this was the most unique reading experience that I've ever had. It wasn't that there was anything especially unusual about the story, but the circumstances around the book are one-of-a-kind. It is important to know the context of this novel--this was the first book that Harper Lee wrote. It was rejected by the publishers with a note that she should explore the childhood of the main character, Jean Louise "Scout" Finch. Lee took that note and wrote another book, To Kill a Mockingbird. This manuscript was filed....until something happened. Things get murky from that point and it isn't really clear when this manuscript was "discovered"and if Harper Lee actually consented to the publication. So, it is set after To Kill a Mockingbird, but it isn't truly a sequel. It is more of a story about an alternate universe Maycomb, Alabama and its famous literary inhabitants. The first question that came to my mind was why was this book rejected in the first place? After reading it, I can think of a couple reasons. For one thing, it might have pushed the boundaries of what was considered "acceptable" in mainstream fiction in the 50s. There are reference to child molestation, someone is compared to Hitler, a lot of discussion about racial issues, and a scene involving an unfortunate pair of falsies (and that last one is excellent!). I have a feeling that some of the things this book touched on may have been a bit too "hot" for a publisher to take on. There is also the problem that, plot-wise, this book is a bit light. The plot isn't "bad," but it isn't really novel-sized. This plot could have been expressed in a short story or a novella, although most of the very entertaining, but non-essential, scenes would have had to be cut. I would love to know what someone who has never read To Kill a Mockingbird would think of this because, for me, this is really dependent on To Kill a Mockingbird. There were also some stylistic things that don't show up in To Kill a Mockingbird that may not have gone over well--mostly things where the narration switches from third-person to first-person stream-of-consciousness. I don't recall this happening in To Kill a Mockingbird and I'll admit that I was a little confused by it at times. The original suggestion that Lee should write about Scout's childhood does make sense. We all know about the wonderfully precocious Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird, but I must tell you that the Jean Louise of this book is freaking awesome. I can't think of another character of that age in literature who I have enjoyed as much as I did Jean Louise (who I will call Scout from here on out--because she will always be Scout in my mind). She's opinionated and brash and knows how to make a situation deliciously uncomfortable. Also, this Scout is a natural evolution of the Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird. There are a lot of flashback scenes to her childhood and they read as if they could have come out TKAM. And, now, the elephant in the living room--Atticus. Unless you have no access to the internet (in which case, you wouldn't be reading this review) you know that Atticus is not what we expect in this book. I would like to take a moment to call every outlet (The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, Mashable, The Guardian, and others!) who felt that they should spoil this jerks. You are all jerks. There, I said it. But it is an important part of this book. Is Atticus a racist? By, 2015 standards, yes. By Scout's standards, yes. By mid-1950's standards? Maybe not. I mean, this was a contemporary novel when it was written, I mean, by 2015 standards, some of the things that Scout says are racist as well. (And to be fair, neither is as racist as Ma Ingalls....) I'm not excusing any of this, but I think that it is important to place it in history. I think that modern readers should be upset about the racism here--not in a "how dare you" sort of way, but in a "we were wrong" sort of way. I think that a reader needs to be able to separate the myth of Atticus Finch from the literary Atticus Finch. I have to say that because what I'm about to say next may not sit well with some people: In my mind, I can see that the Atticus of To Kill a Mockingbird can become the Atticus of Go Set a Watchman. I'm not saying that Atticus was racist in TKAM--but what I'm saying is that he could have been. Remember, TKAM was told through the eyes of a child who idolized her father. In Go Set a Watchman, that child has grown up and lived on her own in another part of the country. Should you read this book as a sequel or as an unrelated book? I don't think you can read it as a completely unrelated book--there is just too much overlap between the two. But I don't know that you can read it as a strict sequel either as there are things that just don't add up. For example, the trial of Tom Robinson is alluded to in passing in this book, but the details-and outcome--were different, I guess you have to find where you are comfortable between the two options and read it from that point. I will say, though, that this book does seem dependent on To Kill a Mockingbird. However, I am a person who has read TKAM several times, so I already had that at the forefront of my mind going into Go Set a Watchman. I'm going to close with what I thought was so profound about this book--and that is that it was published when it was. The issues this book deals with are still with us. The same arguments that are used against Civil Right in this book are used to support flying the Confederate flag today. Things that are said about African Americans are still said about minorities. It is amazing how little has changed in 50+ years. I am immensely glad to have read this book (and I truly hope that Harper Lee DID give consent to its publication). The experience in reading it is something I will never experience again and it takes the issues that are raised in To Kill a Mockingbird and brings it home.

Here is what I knew about this book going into it: It was set in the 1920's and deals with the rich in Providence, RI. That's it. I'm not sure why I didn't know more--after all, I had the book with the synopsis on the back in my hand--but I didn't. I honestly can't say if that impacted my enjoyment of this book or not, but I think it is something I should disclose because one thing that I enjoyed about this book is that I never really felt like I knew what was going on. Okay, I know that sounds like a negative, but it really works here. Of all the characters in this book, there are 2 that the instinctively know they can trust, and one of them is a very peripheral character. I don't know if I would say that the characters are unreliable, but more than Morrow is very careful about what information she gives out and when. I never knew if I was dealing with the supernatural or an elaborate hoax. Not only does this add a new dimension to the characters, but it keeps the reader pulled in from beginning to end. I was describing this book to my mother and her response was that it sounded very stressful. While I can see how she'd get that from my description, the truth is that this book is not stressful at all. I'm not sure if I can adequately describe my experience with this book, but here's my best attempt: Sometimes, I read a book and think that it would make a great movie. With this book, I felt like it would make a great stage play. It is a very contained story in that the cast of characters is limited and, with the exception of a series of flashbacks, the action takes place in one location. For me, this was a great summer read--the plot was fast and evenly paced. The characters, while sometimes a bit cliche, were entertaining. And, when it was done, I felt like my time had been well-spent while not personally feeling spent. This is the first novel by Jill Morrow that I've read and I'll be watching for more from her in the future!

This was somewhat of a weird read for me. I think the premise of this collection is genius and I was quite excited about it. Yet, I really felt that I would have enjoyed these stories--any of them--more if they were not in a collection. I think my biggest problem was that there really isn't a different narrative voice between most of the stories (there are two that are exceptions). Because it sounded like the same voice telling all of the stories with a similar theme, things started to just meld together for me. Successful collections need to either have stories with varying themes or (or, possibly and) differing voices for each story. Instead, this collection began to be a bit monotone for me. That being said, I do like Bergman's writing style. I think in a novel or in individual stories, she is or could be quite effective. She was not overly verbose and she was able to capture the emotions of her characters in a way that the reader could understand them, but still keep them in the context of their setting. As I mentioned above, there were two stories that sort of broke the mold in this collection. One was "The Internees," which is a "short" short story told in the plural first person about the survivors from the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. I was particularly taken with this story and consider it one of the best in the collection. The other was "The Lottery, Redux," which is a "cover story" (Bergman's description) of "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson. As a story it was interesting and a good read--but it just didn't fit in this collection and left me wondering why it was even included. But, in the end, I might still recommend it. I think, if one were to read this book, my suggestion would be to read it slowly--perhaps one story every couple of days or so. The stories are good, even if the collection as a whole is a bit flat.

I will come clean...I cry at everything. Sad movies, happy movies, books, commercials featuring pets, and--worst of all--preschool graduations. Seriously. It is not a feat to make me cry. This book did not make me cry. I'd say I have stone-cold heart, but since I cry at everything else, I don't see how that can be true. I know I was supposed to cry...everyone I know who has read this book said I would cry and, believe me, Forman tried her best to squeeze tears out of me, but it just didn't happen. I get that the premise--a girl whose entire family is killed in a car accident and her out-of-body self has to decide if she wants to lie or die--is tough. I'm not heartless, after all. But I just was never able to get emotionally invested in this book. After I finished I tried to figure out why this book left me so cold, and I think three things come into play. First of all, only 2 things happen in this book. Mia is in a car accident and then she decides whether she'll live or die. Yes, there are some other minor incidents of activity (the biggest being her boyfriend and musician friends try to break into the ICU), but as far as plot goes, it is just those 2 things and a lot of introspection. I was definitely left wanting more plot and, strangely, more introspection. And introspection is my second issue--in that it isn't. Introspection and flashbacks are not the same thing. I would say a good 3/4 of this book is told through flashbacks, but the flashbacks are really just recounting of things past--there is never really a tie to what happened back then to the decision Mia needs to make now. I found this very frustrating because I felt that all these flashbacks were the literary equivalent of treading water and I wanted this book to go somewhere. Finally, I didn't think that there was a single original character in this book. Every character--the gifted but shy Mia, her musician boyfriend, her ex-rocker parents, her outspoken best friend--were just the usual stock characters that are commonly found in young adult literature. I don't mean to bash YA fiction by saying this--I've read some fantastic books where writers have taken the "usual" characters and transformed them--but I just didn't feel that it worked here. I had seen all these characters before, several times, and nothing they did or said really interested me at this point. In fact, the only character that had any real stock in was Mia's friend, Kim--not because she was unique, but because she was at least the most interesting of the cliches. Look, I know people LOVE this book and I'm not saying they are wrong. I read a lot and I critique what I read and maybe I'm cynical and the heart on my sleeve may be covered by several layers of literary gortex at this point. But I can say that, ultimately, this one just didn't have the teeth to cut through to my emotions.

I'll come out and say it: whether or not you enjoy this book is dependent completely on your expectations going into it. This is a modern re-telling of Anne of Green Gables. Anne-with-an-e, the spunky turn of the century orphan, has been replaced by Ana-rhymes-with-fauna, a Mexican-American foster child who was orphaned when her parents were killed in gang violence. There, I said it. I love Anne of Green Gables, but I also recognized going into this that I could not, and should not, expect the whimsy of Anne Shirley and her life in Avonlea to be transferred to Ana's life. If you do expect that to happen, this book probably won't work for you. Now, after that dire warning, I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I actually loved that Teran took the framework of such a beloved classic and brought it forth into the reality of the current day. There are some very clear parallels--Ana goes to live with a brother and sister on a farm, (although the brother is more like Marilla and the sister is more like Matthew), "the boy" insults her hair, there is a hair incident, and there is a "bosom friend". And then there are other elements that are turned a bit--and I won't go into those because I think you should read the book to find them! There are some really dark elements in this book, which is not surprising given Ana's backstory, that have no equal in the source material. Also, while Anne of Green Gables is sort of an age-less classic, in that it appeals to everyone from children to adults, Ana of California is very firmly in the Young Adult Genre. Ana is a high school student and Teran brings up issues that kids today face in high school. Ana is a dreamy and spunky girl, but not in the same way that Anne is. Ana is a fighter--she's scrappy and scared. While Anne has wonder for the world, Ana is just trying to get through the world. But, again, Ana with Anne's wonder just would not work and would not believable for the reader. The cast of supporting characters were interesting. There were a few that were pretty direct translations--such as the Rachel Lynde and Josie Pye characters. Others, however, are more of a jump. As I've mentioned, there seemed to be a bit of a gender swap with the Matthew and Marilla characters (which probably works better here). Rye, who is the "Diana" character, still fills the role of the BFF, but her relationship with Ana is a bit more problematic. On a final note, I also would not go into this thinking that, since you've read Anne of Green Gables, you will know how this book goes. Trust me, it is a bit more complicated than that. But, that is really what makes it interesting. Teran doesn't re-tell Anne of Green Gables, she recreates it.

First off, I now need to take a vacation cruising the canals of France. There are a few different ways you can take this book and one is a travel novel--and it is quite successful in that. Trust me, you'll feel like you are cruising along with Monsieur Perdu and his friends. Tben, of course, there is the food. One of the characters is a chef and the dishes he whips up will make your mouth water (and recipes are included if you want to try them yourself!). I appreciated that the recipes were in an appendix to the book instead of sprinkled throughout, which seems to the be the style in so many books these days. Of course, the heart of this book is not travel or food, but literature. Like The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry (a book I was reading when I started this one), this is a truly bookish book. While I think anyone would enjoy this book, book lovers would truly "get it." We bookish folk understand that books can be a salve for what ails us, that can treat conditions that medicine can't touch. In short, we get Monsieur Perdu. I loved the writing style--I'm assuming a translator was involved, but I couldn't find who that might be with my electronic copy. However, it could be that the author translated her own work--I really don't know and haven't been able to figure out. In any case, I will say that this book does not read like a translation. The prose is poetic and flows nicely. There is also (and unsurprisingly) what I would consider a "European flair" about it. By that, I mean that it is a little more dramatic and emotional than I recall ever reading in a North American author, but I have read similar prose from European authors. This is not a bad thing by any means--it simply adds to flavor of this novel. The plot moves fairly steadily, although there are a few times when George seems to get stuck on one point or another. I'm more forgiving about this in translations because, unless you read the work in its original language, you can't really be sure if this is due to the author or the translator. Still, the book kept me interested from the first page to the last. Another minor--and I do mean minor--gripe I have is that the title of the book doesn't represent the actual story. Monsieur Perdu's "bookshop" is never called as such--it is referred to as a barge or as the Literary Apothecary--and it spends very little of the book in Paris and doesn't really have any ties to the city. I can't knock George for this as the publisher frequently assigns the title (especially in translations), but the title just isn't the best. While I would recommend this book to anyone, I would especially recommend it to my book loving friends. And my France-loving friends. And my travel-loving friends. And my food-loving friends.

When I heard that Laura Andersen was coming out with a new trilogy, I jumped at it. I loved her Boleyn Trilogy (The Boleyn King, The Boleyn Deceit, and The Boleyn Reckoning) and couldn't wait to see what she had in store next. The answer: more of the same. Now, this is not necessarily a bad thing--after all, I truly enjoyed her first trilogy. However, this book is like the 4th book in a trilogy. The 3 books of the Boleyn Trilogy read like a trilogy--they worked together as a whole and came to a satisfying ending. Now, we have a continuation of the story with Dominic and Minuette's children and Elizabeth's daughter (in Andersen's alternate universe, Elizabeth was married to Philip of Spain). Is this a problem? Not really, except that you really need to read the original trilogy before starting this book. Seriously. I can't see how anyone who had not read the first 3 books would have any clue what is going on here. On a petty side note, I feel like I have to mention the cover art. The first three books had very nicely designed covers and I wish the designers had carried that through to this book. Frankly, I find the cover of this book a bit tawdry. Okay, back to the bones. So, this book is called The Virgin's Daughter but, it isn't about Elizabeth's daughter. Princess Anne Isabel (called Anabel), who is the daughter of Elizabeth and Philip of Spain, is a character in the book, but she is secondary at best. Instead, this book is about the oldest daughter of Dominic and Minuette, Lucette, who was born in the last book of the previous trilogy. Lucette was a fun, if not realistic, character. Elizabeth basically uses her as a spy, which would never have happened in the "real" Elizabethan England, but in this one--sure, why not? Lucette is, of course, smart and beautiful--but not too smart, and I think that is what I liked most about her. She made mistakes and she misread things. Basically, she wasn't perfect. She is sent to visit (er, spy) the home of her family's friend, Renaud LeClerc (a character in the first trilogy) to sniff out a possible conspiracy to assassinate Queen Elizabeth. There she meets up with the two LeClerc brothers, who themselves are estranged. There are a cast of supporting characters, both historical and fictional. In this book, Andersen uses more fictional than historical characters, which is change from her first trilogy. Among the "real" people, we have Elizabeth I, Philip of Spain, Sir Francis Walsingham, Dr. John Dee, and Mary, Queen of Scots. The rest of the characters are of Andersen's creation, which makes this one more step removed from fact. I say this only because some people (okay, I am one of them) are sort of sticklers for historical accuracy, so they need to keep in the forefront of their mind that this is "alternate" history. I hope that the next two books more deeply explore the younger set in these books. This is Lucette's book, but will the next be Anabel's or Pippa's (Lucette's younger sister, who I found very interesting)? We can only wait and see, but Andersen has set up some interesting possibilities for the coming books. I found the plot of this book to be fast moving and fun, but Andersen's writing didn't seem quite as tight as it did in her first trilogy. I'm willing to forgive that because I do think she has an interesting story here. While I'm still trying to figure out if I'm reading a new trilogy or an installment of a series, I would recommend Andersen's books. I would strongly, strongly urge any reader to start with The Boleyn King and go from there but, if you've already read her Boleyn "trilogy" and enjoyed it, this would be a "must read" for you.

Oh my, where to start. Anyone can tell from reading the summary of this book that it is going to be heart-wrenching. I am lucky in that I can't personally relate to Cistaro's story, yet I was still deeply affected by this book. I can only imagine how someone who can relate to Cistaro's story would experience this. I enjoyed Cistaro's writing quite a bit and she wasn't afraid to go all in. I suspect it can be hard to articulate the feelings that Cistaro had to go through in her life and I applaud her for that. In fact, this book reminds me of another well-known memoir of a woman coming to terms with her mother's death and I think readers of that novel (you know what book I'm talking about!) may be interested in this book. I will admit, though, that I did have some problems with the pacing of this book I felt that Cistaro did a fabulous job of digging deep and explaining her feelings, but I also felt that most of this book was stuck in neutral. I never felt that Cistaro was getting closer to making peace with her feelings about her mother until, well, she had made peace. I wish that there had been more of a forward-motion in the narrative throughout the book. Would I recommend this book to others? Yes, although not universally. I don't think this is a book for just anyone and a reader needs to be in a certain "head space" for it. But, for some, this is an excellent memoir.

Folks, I'm scratching my head over this one. There are definitely some wonderful things about this book, and I enjoyed the experience of reading it, but there were issues that I just can't overlook. I'll start with the positive. This is my second book by Pamela Schoenewaldt (Swimming in the Moon was the first) and, once again, I was drawn in by the language in this book. It is not overly verbose, but the prose is still lovely and completely readable. I was immediately attracted to Hazel as a character. She is a young woman very much at a crossroads in her life. As is typical among young people of that age, she is restless and then she discovers a family secret that leads her to question her life as she knows it. I liked that while Hazel was a proactive character, Shoenewaldt still gave her time to process these things that go on in her life. The real draw for me with this book is how well Schoenewaldt draws America during World War I. I've read a fair amount of WWI fiction, but I think it was all from a European viewpoint. The United States had a unique experience with the war--while we didn't join in until late in the game, the war was fought by citizens on the streets of America. Schoenewaldt captures this expertly and, for that alone, I would recommend this book. But, as I said, there were things that just didn't work. My biggest problem is that it seemed like Schoenewaldt took 3 passes at this before settling on a plot, but the first 2 possible plots are still included, but never finished. The first of these is Hazel's family secret, which is introduced, ignored for a bit, and then brought up briefly before being dropped for the rest of the book. The second story line involves some magic realism. It is not that I don't like magic realism--I actually quite like it when done well--but I do believe that it is something that an author needs to commit to and carry through the entire work. Schoenewaldt does not do this. It happens in only one part of the book and then is dropped again. Throughout the rest of this book, I kept hoping I'd see a return, or at least an explanation, of the magic realism, but it never happened. Because of this, I felt like I was reading 3 distinct stories (or 2 beginnings of stories and one complete story) instead of one cohesive novel. I really think that a but more editing and the removal of "story stumps" would have greatly improved this novel. But, I cannot discount the beautiful language and Schoenewaldt's description of WWI-era America. Even with its flaws, I would still recommend this book.

Once again, I'm probably the last person around to read this. However, this time at least, there is a good reason for it. It was the selection for my book club this month and I try to read the selections within a month of the meeting. So, I've owned a copy of this book for months but had to wait (well, made myself wait) until just recently to read it. The big question is: does it live up to the hype? Yes, yes it does. I was actually a little wary of this book going in. From what I had heard about it, I was afraid it would be a Castaway scenario where it would be one character talking to himself (or to an inanimate object). Thankfully, that is not the case. Yes, the bulk of the book is Mark Watney trying to survive on Mars, but there are also scenes with NASA and with Watney's crew as they travel away from him. And Mark never talks to a soccer ball, or personifies any other non-living thing, so that is a plus. There is a a staggering amount of science in this book, but don't let that scare you off. I do not have a scientific mind at all and I was able to get through it. I will say I did better when Mark was going through the science than when the people from NASA or the Hermes crew were relaying it. Weir created a great voice with Mark, which is necessary since the bulk of the book is in his voice. He has a great sense of humor and even the driest science monologue was entertaining when it was coming from him. However, I am kind of amazed at how much chemical engineering, electrical engineering, and mechanical engineering he knows as a botanist (yes, I know everyone had multiple roles but...wow....) The movie version will be out later this year and I am in now way making a dig at the book when I say I think it will make a great movie. It does have a very linear plot which translates well to film but doesn't always work on the page. Here, however, is an exception. The fact that Weir has directed everything in this book to one point is truly effective and I think that, if he had deviated at all from that, the whole narrative may have fallen apart. I read this book in one day, which I am rarely able to do these days. Once I picked it up, I just couldn't put it down and I'm pretty sure that most people would have the same experience.

Let's start with the good--and there is a lot of good here. I guess the proper review format would be to save my "bottom line" for the end of this, but I'm going to be a rebel and start with it. I really enjoyed this book and it was exactly what I needed when I read it. Friedland's writing style is exceptionally good for this type of book in that there seems to be a fair amount depth to her writing and she fleshes out the main character of Evie quite nicely.The secondary characters are more one-dimensional, but since the novel is so focused on Evie, it isn't really an issue. The premise of this book is both unique and timely. If you are reading this review, you are plugged in. Evie goes completely off the grid. Like, she won't even look at a computer screen (at least not when it is turned on). I know I couldn't do it and I doubt many others could either. I kept thinking there was no way she would be able to function in life without the internet, but she makes it and it is pretty awe-inspiring. Honestly, I would recommend this book on the premise alone. Now, the critical part. Before I go on, let me reiterate that I did enjoy this book. It is on the lighter side, and I knew that going into it, so even though I have these criticisms, they were not big issues for me. First off, I knew exactly what was going to happen in this book. There was nothing that caught me by surprise and I knew pretty much from the start how the book would end. However, this book could fall under the "chick lit" umbrella and such books usually follow the same formula, so the fact that this book was not surprising is not surprising. I also wish Friedland had spent more time on what Evie went through the first few days and weeks of going off-line. Did she go through the typical withdrawal symptoms? Did she eat all the chocolate in the world? I don't know, because Friedland never really went into that. It seemed like giving up the internet was just as easy as deciding to do so and I really, really, really doubt that. My final little criticism is that the epilogue of this book just doesn't fit with the rest of the book. You could just skip it and not miss anything but, if you choose to read it, you might be scratching your head, trying to figure out how it relates to anything. Epilogue should tie up loose strings, this one just tangles up a whole other ball of yarn. Still, this was an enjoyable read for me and one I'd recommend to anyone looking for a beach read where they don't get WiFi.

Short story collections are things that I love, but somewhat hard for me to review. Obviously, reviewing something with several distinct stories can be tricky but the bigger problem for me is that I usually read short story collections over a long period of time. For example, it took me 53 days to read this 263-page book. The fact that it took me so long to read this book is not a commentary on the quality. I just like to go slowly through short story collections, reading no more than one story a day. I like to have a little "space" between each story so that I can enjoy each one on their individual merits. Unfortunately, the fact that it takes so long for me to read books like this means it can be harder for me to keep the earlier stories fresh in my mind. So, I'm going to address this book with an overall eye. For this book, this works well because Henry's style is fairly uniform throughout the book. This isn't to say that this book is monotone. In fact, it is quite the opposite. Henry does an admirable job of including stories of women from all walks and stages in life. You can, however, tell that every story was written by the same author, which isn't a bad thing at all. I actually loved Henry's voice and it even sounded Southern in my head as I read it. Henry is an expert at creating the world of the Lowcountry here. I've never been there (the closest I've been was when I went to college in the Tidewater region of Virginia) but I could clearly see it in my mind's eye and, yes, I would really love to visit now. The fact that she was able to pull this off is what really holds this collection together. This is a very readable collection and I would recommend it to readers new to short story collections, as well as to fans of Southern fiction from a female viewpoint.

I was supposed to read this book about a year ago--it was one of the selections in my book club, but I wasn't going to be able to attend that meeting so I ended up not reading this book. Then, I needed something to read on my phone during National Library week (or whatever) and this book had come up as being the most challenged book in libraries. Well, I love a good controversy, so I finally got around to reading this. And, here is my question...what is supposed to be so controversial about this book. According to the ALA, it is: Reasons: anti-family, cultural insensitivity, drugs/alcohol/smoking, gambling, offensive language, sex education, sexually explicit, unsuited for age group, violence. Additional reasons: “depictions of bullying” Anti-family? Really? If anything, this book is incredibly pro-family! Junior's parents are not perfect, but they are the best they can be and they love Junior and Junior loves him,. I'm not sure how that qualifies as being anti-family. Cultural insensitivity? This is one of the most culturally sensitive books I have ever read. And, yes there are some scenes of drugs/alcohol/smoking, a few f-bombs here and there, and a description of what Junior does in his alone time (I'll give you a hint--it's the same thing almost every single 14 year old boy on the planet does). However, none of that is presented in a gratuitous way. It's Junior's life and this book would not be true with a white-washed version of his life. Look, I'm not going to go any further arguing the so-called "reasons" for challenging this book--it just makes me too upset. I'll get off my soap box now.... Obviously, I loved this book. Junior was a fantastic character and I fell a little bit in love with him (and then went head over heels for him in the scene where he's interviewed by local media). The depictions of life on the reservation are hard to read, but I believe that they are realistic. I know life is hard on the reservations, and Alexie does not shy away from that. Yet, at the same time, he does not fall into self-pity. What I found unexpected was how Alexie contrasts Juniors reservation world and his "white" world. In short, neither world is perfect, but neither world is doomed. People are people and everyone has their own value and their own struggles. I don't know if I was expected for own group to come out ahead of the other in some way, but I am very glad that didn't happen. I truly feel that this is an important book for young people to read. Yes, it examines the struggles of modern Native Americans but, more importantly, it is about finding your own place in the world. And to all those people who try and challenge this book....don't worry, when my children are older, they won't be checking this book out of the library. I'm going to buy them their own copies.

Horror is not a genre I normally read. I have read it and I have enjoyed it, but it just isn't the section of the bookstore I tend to go to. The truth is, I have a sort of strange relationship with it. I am one of those people who is scared very, very easily. I can't watch horror movies or listen to ghost stories. Heck, I can't even go into haunted houses. Yet, I'm very rarely scared when I read. In fact, I've only been frightened by 2 books (The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova and Salem's Lot, the first AND LAST horror novel by Stephen King I've read). I think that is why I've stayed away from horror--I felt like it wasn't working for me as it didn't scare me. In time, I realized that getting a creepy or eerie feeling was probably okay and, let's face it, I shouldn't bemoan the absence of nightmares. So, when I come out and say that I didn't find this book frightening, it should not be taken as a commentary on the work. I did find it eerie, and definitely a little creepy, so that is a win in my book. However, I can't say if reader who are--and want to be--scared by such books would be. I think those of you who fall into that category will have to rely on other reviews to see if this book is spine-tingling. All that being said, I did find this a solid novel. I don't know if you can much creepier than a creepy kid and, in that department, this book delivers. Jack Peter has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, although it is clear very quickly to the reader that there is more to the boy than that diagnosis. One of his more major issues is his agoraphobia--a fear of the outdoors. He has not left the house in 3 years, except for necessary trips to the doctor. Instead, he surveys the Maine Coast from the windows in his parents' "dream house." Jack Peter seems to have 2 outlets--drawing and his friend, Nick. His parents encourage both, but Nick is not so sure about Nick. The two boys have a complex relationship and one that Donohue fleshes out well. The truth is that both boys need each other on one level and resent each other on another. And Nick is not so sure about all the drawings Jack Peter makes with an almost fevered urgency. That is the canvas on which this story is painted. From here we have ghosts and monsters, family secrets and a mysterious woman. I really don't want to get too far into the plot because I'm not sure how to do so without employing spoilers. I will say this, though...this was a good horror novel for a reader like me, who doesn't read horror very often.

I'm not proud to admit this, but I went into this book thinking I would know exactly how things would go. I'm not saying that I thought it would be trite or predictable, but rather that it fell firmly into a trope of a life that is and a life that could have been. And, to be sure, that is what The Bookseller is, but not in the way I thought it would be. I'm going to be especially careful writing the rest of this review as I think this is an unusually easy book to spoil and I really, really don't want to do that--I want you all to read it! Let me start with Kitty/Katharyn, who I call K from here on out. I felt she was a strongly constructed character and robust enough to really carry this book. She has to switch between two settings, sometimes with only a partial knowledge of her current world, but she is written such that she stays just one character. The other characters in the novel are more one-dimensional, which normally is a drawback for me, but is actually necessary in this case (no, I'm no going to tell you why....read the book!). Setting in this book is paramount. Both lives that K experiences is set in Denver, but in different worlds in the same city. If my memory is correct, I've only been to Denver twice and both times I was stuck in the airport. So, I have no way of knowing if the portraits of Denver Swanson draws are accurate--but they are definitely evocative (for the record, it seemed like a hybrid between Portland and Tucson, which probably isn't too far off). I felt like I was right there in Denver of the early-60s. And, speaking of the time period, Swanson also uses current (to the time) events to set things up, something which I appreciated as a reader. In a book where reality is questioned, it was nice to have an"anchor." If I had a complaint about this book it would be that the moment when the situation becomes clear is a little muted. I don't mean that I felt that there should have been more "action," bu I do wish it had been a bit more of an "a-ha moment." In the end, though, this was a dazzling debut and one that I'd recommend to pretty much anyone...but I will give this warning; you'll probably start paying more attention to your dreams after reading this!

It is no secret that John Green has a bit of a cult following--and it is easy to see why. He's a talented writer and he is tuned in to what young adults feel. He's not afraid to tackle tougher topics, but he also doesn't dumb things down for his audience. For that, I have great respect for him. My first encounter with John Green came when I read The Fault In Our Stars, a book I greatly enjoyed. Since the movie version of Paper Towns is soon to be released, I decided that I would make this my 2nd Green read--so I can only compare it to The Fault In Our Stars. I say this because, based on these two books, I get the feeling that John Green is a formulaic writer. Both books feature characters at a crossroads, which admittedly is not uncommon in Young Adult Fiction. They also feature scenes of property damage sprees and unbelievably understanding parents. Okay, that last part isn't necessarily a bad thing. The fact that there is a framework may not bother many people. Let's face it, if it were a universal sin to be a formulaic writer, Dan Brown wouldn't have a prayer. Unfortunately, it does bother me. John Green is a very talented writer, but I really wish that he would get out of the box of his own making--at least I hope he does. I will most likely read more of his books in the future so, you know, it could happen. Heck, it may have already happened for all I know. But the fact that this book was so similar to the other one of his books that I read did negatively impact what I felt about this book. However, let me address what I did like. I liked Quentin as a main character. I found him to be a believable narrator. He's an essentially good kid--a young man who is trusted by his parents, gets good grades, and has a good social circle. I enjoyed reading his interactions with his friends, who were the sort of people I knew in high school. Yet, putting him next to Margo highlights what a troubled young woman she is. As I said, I am a fan of Green's writing--he is eloquent without being dramatically poetic. I think this is what makes him so appealing to young adults. Let's just say there is no shortage of quotable passages in this book. Yet, he is still able to capture the vernacular of high school students and weave it seamlessly into his prose. Now, to my main problem with this book--and I have to admit that my own experiences greatly affected my feelings here--which is Margo Roth Spiegelman. You see, I knew a Margo when I was in high school--granted my Margo wasn't as clever as Green's Margo and she never led us on a cross country hunt (probably because it never occurred to her), but I know first hand how damaging someone like this can be. In many ways, Green romanticizes Margo and that just left a bad taste in my mouth. Margo is a very, very troubled person and that is never truly addressed. Quentin actually sacrifices quite a bit for her, yet he never really sees the cost of what he's done for her. In this respect, I found the book unsatisfying. So, I'm torn on this. Was this a successful book for me? No. Would I recommend it to others? I don't know. I do think that the younger the reader, the more likely they are to enjoy this book. Yet, the farther the reader is from their own youth, the more likely they are to see the consequences of the characters' actions and behaviors and, as a result, the more likely they are to be dissatisfied with this story.

Phew! You know all those jokes about having to get drunk or behave in some other such activity after spending too much time with your family? Well, that is how I felt after spending time with the Blair family. This is not to say that this is a bad book--there is actually much to recommend it--but I, personally, did not enjoy it. Admittedly, I'm not a reader who needs to enjoy a book in order to appreciate a book and, for the most part, I did appreciate this one. The best way I can think of to describe this book to someone is to think of an unfunny and dramatic version of Parenthood--the movie, not the TV show. Four adult children come together to deal with their childhoods under the shadow of their ever-present (but deceased) father and their absent mother. As is common with families, each child had a role--the oldest, the responsible and only girl, the treasured one, and the"bad" one and, as adults, they are all dealing with these roles. The drama in this book is very realistic and, because of that, very painful. I am sure that readers who enjoy family dramas will have more success with this title than I did. Each of the children are explored, both as kids and as adults, and that results in 4 thorough character studies. I found the oldest two children, Robert and Rebecca, the easiest to relate to. The youngest, James, was at least understandable by the end of the book. Ryan, however, never really gelled as a real character for me. My guess is that Packer was trying to play with the idea of gender with him--he is heterosexual, but very feminine. While I don't think there is anything wrong with that, I don't feel it was done in a way that was effective and I'm not sure why that is. It wasn't that he was or wasn't likable, he just seemed like a lot was put on him, but he didn't have the depth as a character to pull it off. The two people who were very problematic for me were the parents, Bill and Penny. We never really get to know Penny--there are a few passages that were told from her point of view, but mostly she was removed from the rest of the family. On the whole, I understand why Packer did this--the fact that Penny was not involved in her children's lives is an important element of the development of the children's characters. However, I wish Packer had committed to either telling more of the story from Penny's eyes or opted not to tell anything from her eyes. Then we have Bill. Honestly, Bill makes Cliff Huxtable look like Al Bundy on a bad day. Really, this guy is just too good to be true. And the fact that he didn't seem true to me was a big issue for me as it seemed to undermine the entire book. I kept wishing that there would be some kind of character flaw in this guy to make him human. I am the first to admit that family dramas can be hard for me as I find them intrinsically stressful. I know that there are many, many readers who are more interested in this than I am and I think that, if family drama is in your wheelhouse, this may be a good book for you. I also think that this would be an excellent book club selection as families always provide much fodder for conversation. However, if you prefer your family drama to be a bit--I don't know--lighter, you may want to approach this book with caution.

This book has been sitting in my Kindle account for quite some time. I think it fell victim to my aversion to hyped books, or at least that is what I'm telling myself. I recently won a copy of The Rosie Effect in a giveaway and I thought I should probably read this one first. I went in expecting something light and quick. Don't get me wrong--this was light and quick. Light in that it wasn't a book that I felt like I had to work to read and quick because I could not put it down. To assume, however, that it being "light and quick" means it is fluffy is just wrong. While this book is definitely smooth going down, shall we say, it definitely packs a punch. It took me a little time to settle into this book, to no fault of the books. You see, I am a devoted fan of The Big Bang Theory and this book is very similar. The main character is a man with Asperger's and a scientist. Yet, it quickly becomes clear that Don Tillman is not a Sheldon Cooper clone...he wants to have a relationship and take pro-active, and questionable, steps to achieve that goal. The other characters in this book are well-drawn as well. Rosie is an interesting woman and she turns out to not be what I initially thought she would be. I can't say that I "liked" Gene, but he was an effective foil for Don and one that I wouldn't expect. But, there was quite a bit about this book I didn' expect--I thought I had figured the Father Project out and was a bit flummoxed to realize that I had guessed wrong. There is great comedy in this book (including some unorthodox uses for skeleton) but there is great emotion as well. Don's feelings are crystal clear to the reader long before he ever has the slightest inkling of going on. Yet, when he does figure it out, it hits you like Billy Crystal's speech in When Harry Met Sally (but it is not when Don actually recites that particular speech...yes, that happens!). I think the greatest strength of this book is how Simsion develops Don without Don actually knowing it. And, yes, this is a love story--a quirky and sweet romantic tale, but it isn't what I would consider a "romance." Don's relationship with Rosie is the tool that leads to his self-realization, not the other way around. It has been a while since a book so quickly worked its way into my heart as this one did. Ignore the hype (even though it is all well-deserved) and pick up this book!

I will admit that I knew very little about Coco Chanel before reading this book. I knew that she was French and worked during the first part of the 20th century. I had a general idea of the "Chanel Style" and was very familiar with the iconic Chanel No. 5, as that is the perfume my mother wears. And that was the extent of my Coco Chanel knowledge. It is somewhat unusual for me to go into a historical novel being somewhat ignorant about the subject matter and, frankly, it is a treat. Usually with historical fiction, I know the parameters in which the story has to operate but, in this case, I really only knew that there were some major (like World Wars I and II) events that would be happening. I hesitate to say that Coco's story is a rags to riches story...it's more of a "raise yourself up by using every single tool at your disposal" story. While there are some "happy coincidences" in Coco's young adulthood, her success is still her own and, at times, comes at her expense. There is not mistake: Coco is a tough, tough woman. Yet, I admired her, even if I felt that some (okay, many) of her choices were questionable. She reminded me of one of those quintessential and glamorous 20th century anti-heroines, usually played on the silver screen by the likes of Bette Davis or Joan Crawford. Gortner creates the France, and especially the Paris, of this time period exquisitely. Sometimes I get the feeling that authors just expect us to know what Paris is like and they get a little lazy in building it for us, but Gortner does not do that. He illustrates every detail beautifully and lets the city evolve as it did through this tumultuous time period. Here is the difficult part of the review for me. What I'm about to say did not actually bother me about this book, but I can see how some readers may have a problem with it. As I said, I knew little about Coco Chanel going into this book. Once I finished, however, I did some admittedly light research (by "light" I mean wikipedia and a few other sites). Gortner was very accurate about his facts. However, judging by what I found online (and, again, it was "light" research), I think he gave Coco's character a very generous dose of the benefit of the doubt when it came to her actions during World War II. I won't go into the details as I don't want to spoil the book, but it sounded to me that the "real" Coco was a little more, how should I say this?, opportunistic during the Nazi occupation of Paris than Gortner's characterization of her. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with this--this is, after all, a novel and, frankly, no one really knows what Coco Chanel was thinking and feeling during that time. Who knows? It could be that Gortner was spot on with Chanel's motivations and just looking at the hard facts might give someone the wrong impression. Still, readers who are more knowledgeable about the subject matter and more concerned with accuracy may have problems with this. Overall, though, this was an exceptionally good read. Even though it is a work of historical fiction, it is definitely more of a "character" novel and that Coco--well, she was quite a character!

This is a difficult review to write for a few reasons. It is the sequel to another novel, which means that there is substantial back story and, in this case, I would recommend that people read Into the Free before reading this book. Also, because it is a sequel, several elements of the plot actually began in the first book. So, this is sort of a review of both books. I also want to put out that, while this is labeled as a "Christian Fiction" work, that is due more to the fact that it was put out by a Christian publishing house than with subject matter. Yes, faith is mentioned, but not any more than one would find in a mainstream novel. Readers who go in expecting a Christian novel probably won't be disappointed, but neither will readers wanting something mainstream. I would hate for someone to pass by this book simply because it is labeled as religious. As for the book itself, I did enjoy Into the Free, but felt the ending was abrupt and unsatisfying (THEN I found out there was a sequel!) so I almost think that these two books should be read together. Because Cantrell does a complete job of developing characters in the first book, the main characters are pretty much brought on in this book "as is." There are a few secondary characters, the neighbor, Kat, and the ranch hand, Fortner, that Cantrell explores. Kat is developed in a more natural fashion, while Fortner is an enigma until the end of the book. Other than that, the secondary characters who were not previously introduce in Into the Free are kept in the background. The plot of this book is quieter than its predecessors. Quite a bit went on in Into the Free, whereas this book is more streamlined and deals with fewer topics. I believe it was because of that more than anything else that led me to enjoy this book even more than the first. In retrospect, Into the Free more than anything served as a set up for this book, which brings everything to a close. There were parts that I found predictable, but that didn't irritate me too much. By the time these scenes came up, I was already invested in the story. I did feel that the ending was a bit too condensed. By that, I mean that Cantrell wrapped up a lot of threads at once and that was somewhat frustrating to me as a reader. While I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone who hasn't read Into the Free, I would heartily recommend both books together to anyone who enjoys historical fiction, no matter what their religious beliefs may be.

I was initially a bit hesitant to read this. I had read her most recent novel, Big Little Lies, a few months before and, while I enjoyed it, I felt that it was a bit on the satirical side. That is fine now and then, but I had the feeling--unfairly--that this tone would show up again in Moriarty's other novels. But, then came the day I needed something light to read on my phone (I'm hiding my face in shame as a I type that....) and, scrolling through the many, many kindle titles I own, I settled on Three Wishes. I did not realize that this was Moriarty's first novel until after I had finished it--there is nothing less mature about this book compared to her latest novel. In fact, I found this book to be superior to Big Little Lies, The strongest aspect about the book is how well Moriarty crafts here characters. At the center of the story, of course, are the triplets. Each woman has a very distinct personality, and Moriarty doesn't base their characters solely on the fact that they are triplets (I've read a number of books with twins as characters where this was the case). Yes, there is some element of their birth in their personalities, especially in Gemma's character. Lyn and Cat are identical and Gemma is not, which would, of course, have some impact on her. For the most part, however, the women are shaped by what they experienced in their back story and will experience as the plot of this book. Even the secondary characters--the women's parents, their assorted parents, and their grandmother-come to life and, with the exception of the Grandmother, are able to buck any cliches (and, even though she is a bit stereotypical, Nana Kettle is still a treat). Moriarty deftly structures this novel so that you are sucked in at the opening scene and you spend the next 3/4 of the novel getting back to that point. It doesn't read as a flashback--instead, it is almost like looking at scene through a window and then walking through a door into the scene itself. I was afraid that the last 1/4 of the would be a letdown. Once the reader swoops back to the original scene, where can they go? While Moriarty does use this part of the book to wrap up the rest of the story, it doesn't fell like a throw-away. She takes the time to draw each character's arc to a satisfying conclusion. There is only one point that keeps me from giving this a 5 star review. Two of the sisters are or were involved in adulterous situations, but on different ends. Moriarty makes a few comments about this, enough to make the reader think that this should be a point of contention between the two characters, but then she drops it without offering any closure. I think Moriarty missed a great opportunity to delve even deeper with these two sisters. In the end, though, this was a delightful read and one that convinced me that Liane Moriarty is more than Big Little Lies. This is a book that I would recommend to just about anyone looking for sometime fun and light--but not fluffy--to read.

Let's face it...all readers have that guilty pleasure that they don't want to admit that they read. It might be romance or cheap sci-fi or YA or erotica. For me, it's these Grimm tie-in novels. Well, to be fair, it is this Grimm tie-in novel. This is the third one to be released and all three novels are standalone (from each other, not fom the show) and have different authors. I will admit that I chose not to read the first, The Icy Touch, because every single review I read all said that it seemed like the author had never seen the show. I did read the second, The Chopping Block, and it was fine. It could be an episode of the show except the subject matter was over the line for network television. But, it left me with a low bar for the third book. Well, folks, I was surprised with The Killing Time. This is actually a pretty darn good book! Like The Chopping Block, it is set up like an episode of the show, which is a nice little treat when the show is on hiatus. Waggoner stays true to the characters of the book and uses them all (except Adalind, who is--thankfully--absent from the story) very well--better than the show's own writers frequently use the characters. Every one of the major characters--Nick, Hank, Juliette, Renard, Monroe, and Rosalee--have an important part in the plot and come together in a seamless way. Waggoner also created an interesting new Wesen, a shapeshifter suffering from dementia, that I would love to see in an actual episode. I did have some tiny nitpicks and one major irritation. There were a number of little details that just seemed, well, silly. We're talking a Wesen phone chain and a hug-fest. Really. But, whatever. As I said, I didn't expect art with this. But, here is my irritation--every time a character was introduced, we had to get their entire backstory. This novel is set between the 3rd and 4th episodes of the 3rd season, so there is one heck of a backstory for every. single. character. I felt that it interrupted the narrative and, well, I already knew all of that. I mean, I get it...if someone who has never watched the show read this book, they'd be lost without that. Yet, how many people who have not seen Grimm are reading this book? (In other words, you should be watching Grimm, it's a heck of a show!) I wish all of the backstory recitations had been cut so hat we could just get on with the story. So, even with those things that rubbed me the wrong way, I found this book a fun, quick read. No, it wasn't literature, but sometimes you just need fun. If you've enjoyed the show, I highly recommend checking out The Killing Time. If you don't watch the show, you should!

When I agreed to review this book, I realized that I should probably read the first book, The Midwife of Hope River, first. I'm normally one of those readers who just can't jump into a series mid-stream and starting with The Reluctant Midwife just didn't sit well with me. So, before I go any further with this review, I do feel I should address the "sequel" aspect of this book. Yes, The Reluctant Midwife is the second book in the series and, in many ways, it feels like a second book. However, the two books are very different. The first installment addresses several issues of the time and delves deeply into midwifery. This book, however, addresses far fewer issues--it mostly focuses on the Great Depression--and deals more with general nursing than with midwifery. Speaking for myself, I'm glad I read The Midwife of Hope River first. However, I don't think that is absolutely necessary. If someone were to read only The Reluctant Midwife, they would recognize that there was a previous book that fleshed out some of the supporting characters, but not reading The Midwife of Hope River would not affect the actual story of The Reluctant Midwife. While I wouldn't go so far as to call this book a standalone, I would say that its plot does not depend on the preceding book. Okay, now that I have that out of the way.... This was a comfortable read for me. Harman again does an admirable job of recreating Depression-era Appalachia. I think it is probably easy for modern readers to think of the Great Depression as something a little bit worse than the recent recession, but Harman makes it perfectly clear how hard that part of our history truly was. At the same time, because she doesn't focus on too many aspects of the Depression, this is one of the historical fiction novels that readers who don't normally read historical fiction might like. In this installment of the Hope River series (I'm not sure if Harman is planning any other novels, but we'll just call it a series for right now), Harman has created a tight story--the plot is centered entirely on Becky Myers, a once professionally and financially comfortable nurse who now finds herself penniless and in charge of her former employer, who has suffered some sort of mental break and is in an almost unresponsive state. I didn't always like Becky, but I always admired her. Yes, she had her periods of self-pity and what some may consider ugliness, but who wouldn't in her position? I found the plot to move at a nice clip, which should appeal to many readers. I will admit that I found the end to be a bit predictable, but that didn't make it any less satisfying for me. Instead, it seemed more natural than predictable. While I would still recommend The Midwife of Hope River, I do think that this book--due to the fact that it is more streamlined than its predecessor--might be more appealing for some readers. Whether you read this book on its own or as part of the Hope River series, I think it would be well worth your time.

This book has been out for less than 6 months and I already feel like I'm the last person in the world to read it. That alone should tell you something about this book. The post-apocalyptic theme is big now--I don't want to write it off as a trend (such as the vampires of a few years ago) because I think there is more to it than that. I think our interest in these storylines says something about where we are in our current world. While I find the dystopian flavor of this idea to be little too common, I do appreciate books such as Station Eleven (and Karen Thompson Walker's The Age of Miracles) that take a more present look at a post-apocalyptic world. There are three major time settings in this book. We start as the pandemic--the Georgia Flu--hits the world and kills the vast majority of the population. Mandel doesn't focus too much on the actual deaths, but rather on the survivors, which is something I appreciated (especially as I started reading this shortly after my own bout wit an obviously less deadly, but still icky, flu).. We then jump ahead almost 2 decades where the world is a lawless place populated by small settlements in the ruins of our current world. In the midst of this, we also have flashbacks to well before the pandemic and the life of the actor Arthur Leander, his friend Clark, and his 3 ex-wives. I should warn potential readers here that this is a book based at least equally on flashbacks as on the current narrative. Mandel handles this with ease and I think she uses these different pieces well to bring the story together However, I know that there are people who don't like excessive use of flashbacks in use. While I don't think that Mandel's use is excessive, I can see how it might not work for some readers. Mandel's language is just lovely and I found her way of taking the mundane and making it art interesting. For example, there is a fair amount of Shakespeare in this story--Arthur dies during a performance of King Lear, the actors from the Traveling Symphony perform A Midsummer Night's Dream, and the entire plot is, well, Shakespearean. However, in the same way and given almost the same weight, are lines from Star Trek: Voyager. And,no, it does not come across as pop culture pandering. Instead, it shows that there is art and beauty in every age (I'll take Mandel's word on the importance of Star Trek: Voyager, though...) It is hard to pinpoint one main character in this novel. There is Arthur, who dies as the novel begins, but whose life ties everything together. Circling around Arthur are 2 of his 3 ex-wives, his best friend, the man who tried to save his life, and the child actress who witnessed his death. Other than ex-wife #2 who was more a plot device than anything, these character worked their way into my heart and I think I fell a little bit in love with all of them. This book is a quiet one, quieter than one might expect after reading the synopsis. It is not as if nothing happens in this book, but it is much more concerned with the characters, their lives, and their experiences that create the beauty of this book. I would recommend this book to anyone (who doesn't have a flashback aversion).

I've recently become a fan of short story collections--I can read a story a day or every two days and feel like I've been able to savor it. On the flip side, I sometimes find them hard to review--do we review it in parts or as a whole? It depends on the books, but in this case I think it is best to look at the stories as a whole. These are not "feel good" romances, which is what one might expect from the title. Instead, they are more like what happens after "happily ever after" or when real life invades our romantic dreams. I think that the short story format works very well with such themes. Slomski is able to tell her story with just enough plot and detail to convey her point, but she never runs into the danger of become too maudlin over the frustrated lovers. There is a very "experimental" feel about this collection. Some stories are a page long, others a few pages, and a couple border on novellas. Scene and narration style change between each story, yet Slomski uses theme to tie everything together. It would be hard for me to pick a favorite story. I would really love to read "Neighbors" developed as a novel and the first story, "The Lovers Set Down Their Spoons" was very visual and read almost like a scene from a movie. I found the final story, "Before the Story Ends" especially heartbreaking because, sadly, I could relate to it. As much as I enjoyed this collection, I hesitate to say that it is something I would universally recommend. As I said, the stories feel experimental, which is something I think people who are just "looking for a book to read" might not appreciate. While I appreciate authors pushing the boundaries a bit, I know that some readers may have problems with that. However, I would readily give this title to anyone looking for a fresh new voice in short fiction.

First, I have a confession. This book has been sitting on my bedside table, waiting to be read, for over 2 years. Obviously, the premise of this novel intrigued me enough to buy the book, but I just never had that push to actually read it until recently when I as contacted to review The Reluctant Midwife, the sequel to this novel. That was what I needed to finally get this book out of the TBR pile. I was a little wary of this book. While I love Historical Fiction, it is a genre that tends to breed one of my biggest bookish pet peeves--stories with just too much going on it. To be sure, there are many, many issues addressed in this book--the Great Depression, race relations and the Ku Klux Klan, domestic abuse, women's rights, union and--of course--midwifery. Honestly, if I had known that Harman was going to go into all of these topics, I may not have even started the book. So, it is probably a good thing that I was in the dark about the plethora of subjects. You see, Harman is probably the first author I've come across who successfully handled so many topics in one novel. This is due in most part to the structure of the novel. Patience Murphy is a woman with a past, and Harman metes out that past slowly over the course of the book. While I never felt that Harman was keeping information from me, I was always aware that there was more to Patience than I knew. Another factor is, of course, the setting in time and place. This book is set in Depression era West Virginia. In fact, the book begins the day after the stock market crash of 1929. I don't know how Harman could have told many aspects of Patience's story without touching on these areas. This is a very character-driven book and Harman has created a memorable character in Patience Murphy. Because we (eventually) get her life story, she comes across as a well-rounded, three-dimensional character. She is not perfect, but that makes her human. She is surrounded by a strong supporting cast. There is Bitsy, who she took on almost in charity when she was about to be fired from her domestic position and who became Patience's roommate, assistant, and friend. Mrs. Potts is the aging midwife who hands her "business" over to Patience. And there is Dr. Hester, the vet with whom Patience begins a professional relationship that soon turns into one of trust and friendship. There are some graphic childbirth scenes which may be hard for squeamish readers. Yet,I found some of those scenes to be the most fascinating in the book. Patience is the first to admit that she is barely qualified to be a midwife and her journal about her work become almost a textbook-in-progress for her. As she meets families in their homes, readers are brought into the hardship of depression era Appalachia. As I said, this is a very character-driven book, which I enjoy. As a result, the plot is subdued--this is not to say that there is not a plot in this book, but it definitely plays second fiddle to the characters and setting. Because I am a reader who values characters over plot, this did not bother me. However, I can see how other readers may feel that this book lacks the backbone of a strong plot. Even though it took over 2 years for me to finally read this book, it was worth it and I am now eagerly looking forward to starting The Reluctant Midwife. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in fiction dealing with women's history or 20th century US History.

After reading Divergent, I had decided I wouldn't read the rest of the trilogy, but instead would wait for the movie. Then, my husband and I watched Divergent (which I thought was mediocre, but my husband enjoyed) and my non-reader husband wanted to know what happens next. That, of course, meant I had to read Insurgent (not him, of course). So, I did--because I'm a good wife. In retrospect, I probably just should have waited to see the movie. This is one of those books that drives me crazy--it's not so much a novel as an outline for a motion picture. It has everything one could want in a movie--action, romantic tension ("I love you, but I can I trust you?" "Is he going to break up with me over this?" etc.), and a self-conflicted heroine. Well, maybe not that last part. I think Roth tries very hard to make Tris into Katniss 2.0, but she fails. Katniss doubts about herself arise from her backstory and what has happens to her as the story develops and seems very organic and believable. Tris's are, well, they just sort of appear for no reason that I can find out. Roth's writing is clear, but basic. I hesitate to say this, but when people criticize young adult fiction, this is the kind of book they are talking about (and, to be clear, there is a plethora of wonderful YA literature out there). I really wanted more depth here, I wanted more back story--things like more of an insight into Caleb's and Tris's earlier relationship or more details of Tobias's pre-Dauntless life would have amplified the story. There were also some weird inconsistencies. For example, at one point Tris is put into a "time out" room in one of the factions. About 50 pages later, Tris mentions that the factions have these time out rooms, but she's never been in one. Uh.....weren't you in one a few chapters earlier? I found the characters really flat and, at times, ridiculous. Tris, who was somewhat interesting in Divergent, seems to have been demoted to a horror film heroine. She opens a door, thinks that it is a bad sign that the door is unlocked, and continues to walk right through it. The only difference is that she'd have been killed in a horror movie fifteen minutes in. Here, however, was my biggest problem with the book was the fact that much of it was just unnecessary. There is an episode of The Big Bang Theory where Amy destroys Sheldon's world by pointing out that the character of Indiana Jones is completely superfluous to the Indiana Jones movies. Everything that happens in those movies would have happened if he weren't part of that. That is sort of how I felt about the action in this book. There are several confrontation and action scenes, but nothing ever comes out of any of them. The next confrontation would have happened anyway if the previous one hadn't. Instead of a plot, it seems like this is just a string of rather unrelated incidents. Honestly, to get from the beginning to the end of this book, you only need about 1 confrontation and even that one is pretty straightforward. Okay, after all this complaining, I will say that there are 2 positives about his book. It did keep me reading it, even if it was sometimes out of disgust. Secondly, I am interested to see how the trilogy ends now. I could wait for the movies (because we all know that there are 4 movies in a trilogy now....), but it would probably be faster to just bite the bullet and read Allegiant. Maybe I will, after I get the taste of this one out of my mouth.

Ah, good old Benjamin Franklin--the guy we all love even though we know he was a bit, well, smarmy. He was, of course, our Bacchanalian Founding Father and we all can identify that balding old man with the Mona Lisa smile who seems just so charming and eccentric. Let's start with the fact upon which this novel is based. Benjamin Franklin had a long relationship with a woman named Deborah Read. They were never legally married, but she became his common-law wife after they had lived together for 7 years. Into this relationship, he brought his illegitimate son, William (my guess is that Franklin had more than one illegitimate child, but William is the only one he acknowledged). Benjamin and Deborah also had two children together, Francis and Sally. The identity of William's biological mother is not known. This is where Cabot starts her novel. She begins with Deborah meeting Benjamin, who soon leaves for England and, in doing so, leaves Deborah in the lurch. Cabot then introduces Anne, a woman born into the lower classes and, while working in a tavern, meets Benjamin Franklin and the two begin a relationship which results in William. I don't want to go too much into the plot because I think in doing so I would be ruining part of the experience of reading this book. I do want to talk about how Cabot handles her characters. None of the major characters are heroes or heroines are ever completely likable (there is one secondary character, Grissom, who I did find very sweet). But they also are not unlikable. It is easy to see how Deborah develops into the woman she ultimately becomes because, well, almost anyone in her position would do the same. It is also easy to understand the motivation behind many of Anne's decisions. This novel is written in 3rd person, but Cabot goes into the minds of Deborah, Anne, and, later, William. She does not, however, go into the mind of Benjamin and I think that was a very wise choice on her part. Most readers will go into this book with an idea about Benjamin Franklin and, while she doesn't destroy this view, she definitely adds dimension to it and makes you think about him in a bit of a different way. She does knock Benjamin Franklin off his pedestal and puts him down among the rest of the humans--something Franklin himself probably would have hated, but, hey...not even Benjamin Franklin can escape humanity. There was another thing about this book I really appreciated and I'm going to be a bit vague about it as I don't want to reveal any plot points for readers not familiar with the Franklin family, but stay with me. Both Patriot and Loyalist views are expressed in this book and Cabot very skillfully illustrates that both of these views have value and that one side is not right and the other is not wrong. In my reading experience, the American Revolution and the European theater of World War II are really the only two conflicts where writers are able to get away with clearly labeling "good guys" and "bad guys." I'll leave the Nazis out of this, but I find this really frustrating when it comes to the American Revolution. I find it really frustrating that characters who have Loyalist sentiments are always painted as villains (with the exception of one book I read a year or so ago, where the Patriots were the bad guys...it was still annoying on the other side of the table). Cabot, however, doesn't do that and I believe that is a very important take away from this book. All in all, Cabot's writing is readable and enjoyable. I did feel, in the second half of the book, she tended to drop and pick up Anne a bit and wish she had a bit more continuity with that character, but other than that, I have no complaints--but plenty of admiration--for this novel. I really would recommend this book to anyone to read. Yes, it is a historical novel set during the Colonial and Revolutionary period, but I do believe it transcends its setting and genre and makes for an excellent read.

It has only been in the last year or so that I discovered Liza Palmer and I've enjoyed how she is willing to dig into deeper issues than many contemporary writers. When I read the synopsis of this novel, I will admit that it did sound a little light, but I figured that Palmer would be able to go deeper than first appearances. I do believe that Palmer tried to flesh this plot out as much as possible. Unfortunately, the pieces of this book just didn't fit together as well as I would have liked. There were definitely positives to this book. I thought Anna was a well drawn character and I did relate to her and all her issues. Palmer was successful in creating a realistic character in Anna and she is worthy of her own book. Palmer's writing style does shine--she can deal with tough issues and still throw out a biting line of dry humor. If someone was looking for a book to bridge from "chick lit" to something a little heavier, I would recommend one of Palmer's books and, in that area, this book fits the bill. But here's where the trouble started for me. There are a lot of pieces to the plot of this book, which in itself if not necessarily a bad thing. However, I never felt like the pieces all came together as we should. For example, a big chunk of this book revolves around Anna and Sasha trying to set up a marketing campaign for a body wash and, to do this, they are somehow enlisting some male romance cover models. The theme of the campaign is "Just Be." Folks, I have absolutely no idea how this works. I think the gist is that women are all great the way they are and they should "just be." Okay, then, what is with the male models and how does that fit in? I tried over and over again while reading this book and I could never come up with any idea of what this campaign is. Anna's relationship with Lincoln could work, but it really just feels shoe-horned into this book. I think that Lincoln could have fit well with Anna and her "issues," but there was something--and it may have been the fact that the relationship starts as a one- (or three-) night stand while Anna is staying at a hotel for a Romance Novelists convention--that was just too cliche and I couldn't completely buy it. Then, in the midst of all this, we have Anna's addict brother--an issue that just sort of pops up on you-- and her toxic friends. All these floating pieces really kept me from enjoying this book the way I wish I had. I'm the first to admit that I'm a critical reader and my experience with this book may have been negatively impacted by that. Other readers may not have the issues that I did with this book. I still consider my self a fan of Liza Palmer, but this one just didn't work for me.

This was one of those book that I've been meaning to read for over a year. People have raved about it and recommended it. I've had it out of the library at least 3 times, every time it returned unread due to my "reading load." And then, finally, it ended up on the 2015 schedule for my book club! Now, I had to read it! And, boy, was the wait worth it. I worried a bit about it not living up to the hype, but this book fared that storm admirably. I am chalking that up to the fact that this is, at its core, a humble and personal story from someone who strives only to live his best life. There is a lot in here. I'll admit that I know very little about Tourette's and I know enough about strength training to know that it is not my favorite form of exercise. I do, however, know quite a bit about libraries--of all the jobs I've held in my life, my favorite is that first one right out of college--at the public library! Hanagarne is an incredibly likable guy--I sincerely want to be this guy's friend. And get access to his reading list (beyond Stephen King). I related to his childhood in that I was also that kid who never quite fit in and had to find my own world (mine through writing and his through reading). He was a normal teenage guy with normal teenage guy feelings who just happened to have a syndrome that makes life much more of a challenge. I appreciated that Hanagarne was honest--with and about himself. Something that I find common, and annoying, in memoirs is that people tend to hold themselves in a better light than they should. When I find a writer who does not do this, I want to shout, "Look! THIS is how to write a memoir!" I don't want to read about perfect beings, I want to read about real people and Hanagarne is one of those people. This book is very readable--each chapter begins with a scene from the library and then goes back into an episode in his life. I found this structure very unifying for the book--it tied Hanagarne's current place in life to where he was, which I think is important in a memoir. I will admit that there were sections--okay, they dealt with the nuts and bolts of his strength training--where things got a little slow for me. However, I think this is a preference issue more than any defect of the book. I'm sure that there are readers who found the library sections tedious, but I loved them. This is one of those books that has something for everyone and it is one that I feel that I could recommend to anyone--however, I feel it is an especially good book to recommend to those who do not normally read memoirs, as I feel that this is a good "gateway" book to the genre. But, even if memoirs are your genre of choice, this should be a fulfilling read for you.

Lately, I've been drawn to mysteries and I've labeled this book as mystery, but I'm not sure that is an accurate description. There is, of course, a murder mystery...but that isn't what this book is about. Instead, this is a book about relationships. There is precocious Picasso's relationship ith her father and her relationship with her mother. Then we have Kyle's relationships with Picasso and Picasso's mother. And, finally, we have the wives' relationships--with each other and with their shared husband. Murphy chooses to tell this story in an interesting way. The narration is shared between Picasso, Kyle, and the corporate voice of the wives. It sounds weird, I know. And, frankly, I thought I would hate it, but it was actually very effective. I also found the individual narratives fascinating. Kyle's voice is fairly straight-forward. The reader has no reason to question him, although it is clear he doesn't know everything that is going on. Picasso is an unreliable narrator, which I like. You are always wondering if she is telling you the truth--after all, she states early on that she is an accomplished liar. Then, we have the wives. This was the most fascinating narration of the three. Three women talking as one is tricky, and it is even trickier to tell their individual stories through this, but Murphy succeeds completely on this point. I was captured most by Picasso. Murphy expertly draws Picasso out just enough at a time to keep the reader guessing. She is a girl at an age when children begin to really try to figure out their world, and her world is turned upside down. As I said, she's unreliable as a narrator, but it makes sense that she would be so. I did have a few quibbles about the book. For one thing, I suspected the resolution of Oliver's death early on in the novel, even though I still found the ending satisfying. I also had a hard time believing that Picasso was only 11 or 12 years old. She came across as a girl in her mid-teens, instead. But, those were minor faults in my experience with this book. Ultimately, I enjoyed this a great deal and would readily recommend it to others.

Warning: We are about to entire "unpopular opinion territory." Nearly everyone I know--either in real life or in the book blogosphere--loved this book. I....did not hate it. Really, I liked it...I just didn't love it enough to jump on the bandwagon. This is, in many respects, an interesting book. Moyes has taken a hot-button social topic and has centered a love story around it. I try to stay away from spoilers, but I can't really review this book without talking about that topic.... (I'm not really sure this is a spoiler as it is strongly hinted at in the summary, but I'm giving you space to back out now....) Death with Dignity or Physician-Assisted Suicide is not a comfortable topic but Moyes tackles it head on. While I believe she did the best she could within the confines of the genre of this book, I really felt that she needed to go deeper . It is not that I'm personally offended by the topic--although I can see how some readers might be--but I do think that it is a serious enough topic that it needs it due. Moyes scratches the surface of things--Will's mother doesn't want him to do it, but she loves him; Lou doesn't want him to do it and thinks life can be better than he thinks; a random dude in a chat room totally gets why Will wants to do it. But, other than Will stating, when his mind is made up, why he wants to do it, we really don't get any of his struggle in the decision. I really felt that this aspect of the story needed, well, more. I also felt that Lou was not a fully developed character. The Lou at the end of the novel was not much different from the Lou at the beginning of the novel and what few changes did happen were made to or for her and not by her. I really felt that there should have been more growth in her character after everything that happened in this book. I also had some problems with the structure of this book. There are a few chapters that are told through the eyes of some secondary characters (Will's medical caregiver, his mother, his father, and Lou's sisters). I thought this was a nice touch, but I found it odd that these didn't appear until about two-thirds of the way through the book. At that point, it became jarring to suddenly switch viewpoints. If Moyes had scattered these more evenly through the book, I think they would have been more effective. Also, I will admit that I cried at the end of the book--which isn't really that notable since I cry at pretty much everything. However, the ending was not the emotional climax for me. Instead, that came a few chapters earlier in a section from Lou's sister's point of view. That chapter was incredibly well written and may have had the truest emotion in the book--which is both great and not so great. You see, the ending of the book should have surpassed that and it just didn't, which left me feeling a little disappointed, which is what I carry from the book, It wasn't horrible--I like Moyes writing and am looking forward to reading more by her. I applaud her for taking on such a subject, even if I felt she wasn't completely successful in doing so. And she made me cry which, while not a difficult feat, is still something I appreciate in a book.

Ah, a book about diets (that isn't actually a diet book)...something I know a bit about! This book came to me at a time when I was needing something lighter and, on that point, it did not disappoint. That is not to say that this a fluff read--Hawley does explore some deeper issues, but it is an easy to read book. It is written in diary form and reminded me of Bridget Jones' Diary, which I'm sure will appeal to many readers. Unfortunately, I am not a fan of the Bridget Jones books and that similarity, while purely a preference issue and no fault of Hawley, made it hard for me to get into this book. That being said, I did feel that Hawley used the diary format to her advantage. She was able to show the evolution of Abigail's character without hitting the reader over the head with it, and for that I commend her. The actual "diet" part of this book is actually a rather minor plot convention, which is a good thing. Instead, Hawley focuses on Abigail's transformation to an essentially dependent wife to an independent woman. There were things that did frustrate me about this book. Abigail's husband is a little more than a cliche and I found it hard to understand what Abigail ever found attractive about him. He was very clearly a donkey's rear from the moment he shows up in the narrative and Hawley never really gives us a reason for Abigail falling in love with him--other than we was good looking. If I don't understand why she is in the marriage, I am not emotionally invested in her getting out of the marriage. I also felt unmoored with this book. It feels almost (but not quite) like a British novel, but it is set in Ohio. I read that Hawley is American, but has lived in the UK for quite some time, so I can kind of see why that is, but I don't think it excuses it. I wish Hawley had honed the local color here, either for the US or the UK, so that the reader would feel that this Abigail's story was grounded in some sort of reality instead of somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I did begin to enjoy the book as it went along and, but the time I hit the final third of it, I was hooked. Once Hawley stopped doing a day-by-day form of the book and went to a higher view of the story, I found it more readable. While I do wish the hook had come sooner in the book, I was glad that it finished strong. It also has recipes at the end, and recipes are always a good thing! Would I recommend this book? Probably--to someone who enjoys books along the lines of Bridget Jones' Diary and who wants something that is pretty easy to put down and pick up--and, of course, someone who appreciates recipes. While it served my need for something light in the moment, it wasn't a book that touched me in any way.

Oh my goodness, a traveling magic show with some real magic thrown in! How can I resist that? I was immediately drawn in to this book by the initial setting--a murder and a magician on the run. Officer Virgil Holt is drawn as down-on-his luck young man and the one least likely to capture a fugitive (he made me think of Colin Hanks' character in TV's Fargo). I think that the officer would have to be a character such as that, or else Arden's revelations would feel contrived. Arden is a fantastic character We get her entire life story and it is clear from early on that she is a survivor. I found myself admiring her and rooting for her throughout this book. I enjoyed Macallister's writing style and found her voice to be clear and lyrical. One thing I did like about her writing is that things never seemed to unfold how you would think they would. You could be reading along and feeling pretty sure you knew what was coming next, and then something else entirely would happen. As for the resolution of the story, I will say that I did figure out what happened, but only very shortly before it actually did. I was just as sucked into Arden's tale as Virgil was. I did have one complaint--and this is probably something only picky people who write too many book reviews might notice. The chapters alternate between Arden telling her story in the first person to Virgil and conversations on the night of the rest between Arden and Virgil, told in third person. For me, there wasn't enough difference in voice between these two. The style of Arden telling the story is the same style of Arden and Virgil's conversations. Also, the chapters or Arden telling her own story didn't sound to me like someone telling someone a story--it just felt like a novel written in first person. It didn't read like an oral recitation of someone's life, but rather as, well, just as a novel. Again, though, that is really down to the nitty gritty and, honestly, it didn't bother me too much. All in all, this was a fascinating and interesting book that I would happily recommend to others.

I feel I should start this review with a tip. If you are like me and know little about the Bloomsbury Group, I would recommend reading this book in hardcover rather than on an e-reader or listening to an audiobook. Parmar includes a list of the major characters at the beginning of the book, which is quite useful as that she doesn't provide detailed explanations of the characters as they enter the narrative. However, if you are reading this on an e-reader or listening to an audiobook, it is difficult to flip back and refer to this list. I say this not as a criticism as a book, but as a heads up for a prospective reader. Now, with that out of the way, onto the book. As you can probably tell from my first paragraph, I was not overly familiar with the Bloomsbury Groop. I knew who Virginia Woolf was, of course, and I had read most of E.M. Forster's books. I had a recollection of the names of many of the other characters, but that was about it. I didn't even knew that Virginia Woolf had a notable sister. The character list at the beginning of the book is very useful as there are so many characters showing up here, and to compound things, many go by nicknames. So, that was my starting point with this book. It is told mostly through Vanessa's (fictional) diary entries, with correspondence between several characters included. I will say that diary-centered novels are a bit problematic for me--I frequently finding myself questioning such detailed entries (does anyone have that kind of memory and ability to write so much without developing a debilitating cramp?). While these thoughts did pop into my head a couple of times while reading this book, on the whole the diary format irritated me far less in this book than it did in others. I will say that there were a series of letter from Roger Fry to others, such as his mother, peppered through the book, which I found a little disconcerting because Roger doesn't really come on the scene as a character until much later in the book. The center of this book is the relationship between Vanessa and Virginia. Vanessa does have a bit of a complex--her family has let her know that her artistic pursuits are less impressive than her sisters literary pursuits. It is also mentioned that her parents had told her that Virginia was "remarkable" and that Vanessa must take care of her. The truth is that Virginia is mentally ill. And she is manipulative. Parmar is skilled in showing that these two things--her mental illness and her manipulativeness--are two separate things and one is not a byproduct of the other, which is something I appreciate. While Virginia is not a likable character, it is easy to see how the other characters of the book are charmed by her. All this shows what a difficult position Vanessa finds herself trapped in. Vanessa is, not surprisingly, far more likable. For one thing, she is sane. For another, she sees Virginia for what she is. Vanessa is also not a shrinking violet--she is not a character who is willing to just accept her lot and deal with it, even though she does make an attempt to do so. It is when she realizes that she, alone, is in charge of her life that she truly blossoms. At the core, this book is about a woman coming into her own and learning to live her life on her terms, despite the expectations of family and friends. On that count, Parmar succeeds and brings to the forefront a remarkable woman.

The only other book by Anita Diamant I've read is The Red Tent, which is one of my favorite novels. Because of that, I was a little surprised at this one as it is so completely different. The Red Tent is lush and evocative. The Boston Girl is a Jewish Grandmother recounting her life. And it is absolutely delightful! I think this book hit me on two emotional levels. For one thing, Addie Baum reminds me of my grandmother. Sort of. On the surface, there probably isn't that much in common between Addie, a Jewish girl growing up in the North End of Boston, and my grandmother, a Norwegian girl growing up in small town North Dakota, other than they are about the same age. But, Addie reminded me of what I always pictured my grandmother to be as a young woman--spunky and ahead of her time. The other tie for me was that this book takes place in Boston and I lived there for 3 years. While I don't miss the city, it is fun to read about place with which I'm familiar. Diamant vividly creates early 20th century Boston and it was great fun for me to take a trip back in time with her. This book reads exactly like what it is: a grandmother telling her granddaughter about her life and what shaped her into the woman she became. There are several times in the book where Addie makes asides, telling her granddaughter not to tell her mother something or, well, hinting about things that happened in her life that probably wouldn't be proper to talk about (her granddaughter, as you discover at the end of the book, gave up the hinting and just lays at all out--I almost snorted tea through my nose when that little bit came up!). This was one of those books that I just could not put down--I plowed through it in a little over a day, which is pretty fast for this mother of young kids. Yet, I still kept scratching my head about how this was so different from Diamant's The Red Tent. I guess it is the measure of a skilled author to be able to write in such different voices. I highly recommend this book to, well, just about anyone. Just be warned...if you think you'll be reading something along the lines of The Red Tent, you'll need to adjust your expectations (trust me, it will be worth it!)

I love me some Rainbow Rowell--both Eleanor and Park and Fangirl are on my "highly recommended list. When I found out about her newest book, I knew that I would be reading it. Unfortunately, this may have been a case of unrealistic expectations on my part. I can't be sure, but I think I would have enjoyed this book more if it had not been written by Rainbow Rowell. It's not badly written, but it just didn't feel like a Rowell book for me. At first, it reminded me of Jennifer Weiner (whom I enjoy) and then, when the magic realism kicked in, it reminded me of an American Cecelia Ahern (whom I enjoy). It did not, however, seem like it was written by the same person who wrote Eleanor and Park and Fangirl. I never felt that Rowell reached the emotional heights (or depths?) that she had in her other books. I kind of felt that Georgie always knew what the problem was with her marriage, so she never really had any big revelation. And, this may just be my prejudices, but I didn't really like Georgie. I will say that the book did keep my attention, even if I found parts of it lacking. While I felt that Rowell never dove deep enough into the plot, I was at least interested enough to turn the page. And, honestly, I think someone who has never read anything by Rainbow Rowell would probably enjoy this book more than I did.

This is one of those books that has been on my radar for a while but I just now had the chance to sit down and read it. It was definitely a promising prospect--the plot convention of two stories separated by time is something that appeals to me, as is the time period of Olive's story. And, indeed, there were things I found enjoyable. I really loved how Lehmann took the time to juxtapose the New York City of 1907 upon the New York City on 2007. She does an admirable job of really going over the geography of the city and how things have changed. I also appreciated the period photographs she included in the book. I also found Olive's story line intriguing. A young woman who, through no fault of her own, falls from her place in society but still has the gumption to pull herself up and achieve her dreams. Lehmann spends quite a bit of time highlighting Olive's naivete in the ways of passion, which actually fits quite well into her character and serves to draw a clear distinction between the life she lost and the life she had to live. On the other hand, I found Amanda's story line almost unbearable. A woman who has been a 6 year relationship with a married man and then wonders why she's stuck? That is just a tired story that's been told too many times. I never felt any empathy for Amanda and, therefore, had no patience for her. I can see how Lehmann was trying to tie the characters of Olive and Amanda together, but it either just didn't connect, or it connected too easily to be believable. There were some other issues with this book. I respect Lehmann's attempt to illustrate the issues women had to face in the early 20th century in Olive's narrative, but she just tried to cram too much in. She talked about religion, women in the workplace, childbirth, birth control, sexual fidelity, and immigration. Phew! I also didn't find Lehmann's style as readable as I thought I would. She isn't a difficult author to read, but there is just something a bit uncomfortable in her voice that I found a bit irritating. It was almost as if she were not completely natural in her writing. I think if this book had been just about Olive, I would have loved it. As it is, it was just a lukewarm read for me.

Cozy Mysteries are what I read when I want to just relax and give my mind a break. I will admit that I'm not the sort of mystery reader who consciously goes through the book looking for clues and challenges myself to solve the mystery before the reveal; instead, I read these more as a straight novel and just enjoy the story as I go along. It had been quite some time since I last read a Cozy Mystery when I picked up this book. I really didn't know much about it other than it had cats (which I love) and that was the first in the series (which is a must for me). Other than that, I went into this book with an open mind. This was an enjoyable read for me. I immediately liked Kathleen and found I could relate to her. As is common in such books, Mayville Heights is full of quirky characters, although I will admit that a number of them sort of blurred together for me. I have a feeling that they will become more distinct as the series progresses, so I hesitate to hold that against this book. Another thing that I'm hoping will become clearer in later books (as you can tell, I've already decided to go further into this series) is how these two cats, Owen and Hercules, are magical. In this book, their "magic" seemed to be limited to stealing and then getting stoned on catnip and walking through closed doors. Still, I found these cats charming, even if their powers were a bit vague. I thought I had figured this mystery out until the very end, which is a good sign. I also didn't feel that there was an unbelievable jump needed for Kathleen to solve the mystery. I also appreciated that Kathleen didn't act like a detective throughout this book Frequently in Cozy Mysteries, you get a baker or librarian or what not basically doing police work and that was not the case in this book. If you are looking for a new series, I would definitely recommend this book and series. I'm hoping the following books are as good as this one!

I really, really thought I would love this book. The summary sounded fascinating and I was quickly pulled in by Bloom's writing. She has a poetic voice that I found hypnotic. Unfortunately, that was not enough to save this book for me. I tried to put my finger on what went wrong for me and I came up with two big problem areas. The first was the story itself. From the summary, it sounds like this is one of those vast novels, but then you look and the book is less than 300 pages. There are basically 3 sections of this book--New York, Seattle, and Canada/Alaska and Bloom just sort of drops the reader in each one--and I had a lot of trouble buying how Lillian got to Seattle and then to Alaska. Bloom also dives a bit in to the world of the soap opera dramatics, which did not appeal to me. I felt that a lot of what happens to Lillian just wasn't necessary and I would have rather that Bloom had used those pages for something else. The other problem was Lillian herself. I just never felt any connection with or sympathy for her--which is strange because I can understand the desire to find your child, but it just didn't ring true for me with Lillian. I never felt that I was able to get into her enough to feel her compulsion to go on her trek to find her daughter. Instead, she seemed like such a survivor (and I don't mean that in an entirely positive sense) that I couldn't see her give up her comforts to return for a daughter she was told was dead. It's a shame as I think that Bloom is a fantastic writer and this book sounded great, but it just didn't work for me.

I have to be honest, I almost put this book aside. It was not due to any fault of the book, it was just that the subject matter was incredibly distressing to me. I guess it is a credit to Hatvany that she could write about the situation so well that it left me physically shaken. So, yes, let's just say this is not a "fun" read. Trust me, it's far more intense than the summary would lead you to believe. It's pretty raw and heartbreaking--but I soon went from wanting to stop to not being able to put it down. Hatvany does well with highly emotional material and this is no exception. I felt for Nicole--she had it coming from both sides. Not only did she have to take over the care of her sister, but she also had a bevy of unresolved issues with her mother. Her childhood friend comes back into the picture, who becomes a lifesaver to Nova (and she's kind of a kick--right when the reader needs something a little ligh