Poor neglected blog!

My reading over the past three months, the highlight reel:

Loved The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. I knew pretty much nothing about it going it, except that the family raised dogs and the boy was mute. It was so beautifully written. As with any popular book (yes, Oprah liked it), you're going to hear mixed reviews, but I'm putting it up there as one that will stand the test of time.

Was pleasantly surprised by Confessions of a Contractor by Richard Murphy, Time of My Life by Allison Winn Scotch, and The Book of Joe by Jonathan Tropper. The first caught my eye at the library; the latter two were spotted in passing somewhere online.

And fun mysteries: Julie Hyzy's White House Chef series, of which there are only two. I wish there were more. I'd love recommendations for other well-written, old-style, whodunnit mysteries (like Agatha Christie, but contemporary writers).

Worth noting

I've been reading quite a bit and haven't made time to post. But a couple of highlights:


In The Writing Class, Jincy Willett combines a whodunnit mystery with insights on writing and those who attempt it (some doing it well, others not so well). Her characters are so well drawn and fascinating, especially the protagonist who teaches the title class.

I've also been enjoying Jennifer Weiner's books. As I previously posted, chick lit seems to be the best thing for me right now, since I'm reading in short bursts with many distractions. Weiner's books feel like a step up from most chick lit, with interesting, unpredictable plots and well-developed characters. So far I've read Little Earthquakes, In Her Shoes, and Goodnight Nobody.

Learning new tricks

I'm figuring out how to read while nursing the baby -- impressive, no? However, my sleep-deprived brain can't focus on much more than chick lit, and older library books with beat-up spines do a much better job of lying flat so I don't need two hands. But despite those limitations, I've finished three books:


Something Blue by Emily Giffin -- more memorable than I expected, this was a fun read. Darcy starts out as an unabashedly selfish human, but manages to become quite likable. The story is certainly predictable, but still worth the time.


The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein -- I thought I'd like this more than I did, and while I did enjoy it, I skimmed more than I normally do. The sections with Enzo's ponderings on racing didn't hold my attention, though I think they were supposed to offer philosophical thoughts on what was happening in the book. I liked the story, but I just thought I'd love and adore it.


The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs -- I like Jacobs' writing, how she weaves different characters and stories together. This one had a great range of personalities, all very well developed. Still not highbrow literature, but again, a fun read.

New beginnings (oh, and a book too)

First, a beautiful explanation for why posts will be even fewer and farther between than they have been here lately: She was born on Wednesday, and she couldn't be more perfect. We are slowly figuring out this parenting thing, and I've been in too much of a fog to manage much reading. But I'm sure eventually we'll all get into sync!


I did manage to finish Eclipse. And I officially give up on Stephenie Meyer. I really dislike Bella's whining and weakness, Edward is still overly protective and stifling, and Jacob is just annoying. So that's enough of that for me.

Cats and houses

I'm a sucker for a good animal story, and Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World certainly gives that. I found it sometimes got too bogged down with the town's history and with Vicki Myron's own story. It feels rather heartless to say I didn't care as much about her trials and tribulations, but I wanted more of the cat! (I'm very curious about the authorship, though. It's credited to "Vicki Myron with Bret Witter" -- what does that mean, exactly?) I loved Dewey's story and his antics and talents, and my goodness, was he ever an adorable cat. Not cute enough to trump my Atticus, of course: (Click here for a larger version.)




I love a good English manor house story. Usually these are mysteries, in the style of Agatha Christie, and some modern movies have stepped into the genre (can it be called a genre?), like Gosford Park. The House at Riverton, by Kate Morton, tells the story from the servant side while also letting us glimpse the lives of the privileged, and she manages to render both sides sympathetic. Morton's plot is beautifully crafted; she plants details perfectly, so that the events are both surprising and inevitable. I liked the flashback technique -- it was never overdone and worked well to explain how Grace knew so much about her employers' lives. I don't think it gives anything away to say I found the ending tremendously appropriate and yet still heartwrenching.

Catching up

More Carol Goodman, and I'd say this is my favorite of hers so far. The Ghost Orchid is considerably more tinged with the supernatural than anything else I've read by her, and apparently that was just what I needed right now. As always with Goodman's books, it's a great balance of solid writing and not-so-heavy reading.


I can't remember how I happened to find How Far is the Ocean from Here. One day, the library notified me that the copy I requested was in, and even though the subject matter isn't something I'd have normally picked up, I figured I must have had a reason for requesting it. And I'm very glad I gave Amy Shearn's novel a chance. It's a cast of quirky characters brought together in a motel in the middle of nowhere by a young surrogate mother on the run. The premise is perhaps movie-of-the-week with an alt-indie twist, and somehow Shearn makes it work -- it's often just too much, and at the same time, it's just right. Without giving anything away, I found the ending too neat, especially compared to the messiness of life throughout the book. But discounting that, it's very good writing and a satisfying read.

Disappearing acts

My second venture on the Stephenie Meyer bandwagon: I finished New Moon last night. This one left me more perplexed as to why so many adult women are obsessed with these books. For teenagers, I get it completely, but for me, the teen angst is just a bit too much to take. I spent most of the book being annoyed with Bella's logic (lack thereof?), and quite a large chunk of plot toward the end seemed incredibly forced. I didn't dislike it, but I'm not becoming a devotee by any means. (Of course, I'll have to read the next two...) And the Edward love? He's just not my type. Assuming I got over the vampire problem, he's way too protective with a few too many moments of irrational behavior. I'll take old-school Angel and Buffy any day over whiny Bella and crazy Edward.


Maggie O'Farrell's The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox was an enjoyable read, but not terribly memorable. The ending stayed with me but the characters have pretty much already escaped my (admittedly over-extended) mind. The story was intriguing and kept me reading, and I have no real complaints about the writing. It was pretty good. How's that for an underwhelming review?

Arty mystery

I was working on a punny post title like "Mr. Chick-lit" -- combining chick lit plus mystery. But it didn't work.


I like Carol Goodman because her books are interesting enough to hold my attention, well-written enough to keep me from being annoyed, but light enough to read when I don't have a lot of brain left for concentration. The Drowning Tree fits that beautifully, combining (fake) art history with human drama plus a whodunnit. Nice, simple, satisfying. And readable even when my eyes close after about two pages a night.

Rich kids? Not that interesting

Gossip of the Starlings sounds like it should be a good story -- boarding school, weird teenagers, pretty New England setting in the mid-80s. But it turns out privileged kids and their problems don't produce too many feelings of sympathy from me. So you did way too much cocaine and bad things happened? There's a shock. Nina de Gramont's writing didn't help much either, especially with the strange narrative shifts away from her first-person protagonist. I never felt like any of the characters had quite enough to them: Skye's character needed more development to explain why she did the things she did, and Catherine simply wasn't particularly engaging either.

Crowd follower

That's me -- I succumbed to the hype and read Twilight. And I did enjoy the first in Stephenie Meyer's series and probably will read the rest, though I don't have a problem waiting for my number to come up on the library reserve list (I believe I'm 332 at the moment). I liked that it combines somewhat realistic teen angst with supernatural elements, and her take on vampires and how they live is interesting and quite original, as far as I can tell. I didn't love Bella's character -- she seemed a bit too unbelievable at times. Yes, she's meant to be an atypical teenager, but she's still a teenager. Still worth having read it, and I'm glad to know what all the fuss is about.


Also rereading my way through the Harry Potter series: I will probably do more of that as things get busier in the next couple of weeks. Those are good for holding my attention when nothing else will.

Post-vacation roundup

How's that for an uninspired post title? I finished both of these last week and hadn't bothered to note anything about them until now.


Amy Bloom's Away is a book I had vaguely heard of but never looked into further until someone recommended it. I don't think I've ever disliked a book she gave me, and Away was no exception. Lillian's story draws the reader in and holds tight. I also loved the way Bloom finished the stories of the peripheral characters, even after they had drifted from Lillian's main story.


Girls in Trucks, on the other hand, was one of those books I finished only because it was a very quick read and I didn't have anything better immediately at hand. Katie Crouch's novel really ought to have been presented as connected short stories (in which case I would have avoided it, but at least I wouldn't have been expecting an actual novel). The episodes were just too disjointed, jumping back and forth in time and changing narrative techniques as well. It was readable, but not great.

Vacation roundup

A much busier vacation than usual, which meant less time for sitting and reading. Still a respectable book count, though:


1. Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. I expected to like this much more than I did. It wasn't bad, but after all the fabulous critical reviews, I thought there would be more to it. It was quite plot driven, without a lot of depth to the characters, and it often felt like she wasn't sure whether she was writing a novel or nonfiction -- it really would have been more effective had she been able to choose one or the other.


2. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby. Yet another where my expectations were a bit too high. I really like most of Hornby's fiction, but this one felt a little slow to me. I might have liked it better if I had read it closer to when it was originally published.


3. Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates. Best of the bunch. Yates examines the lives of a young, suburban married couple who realize their lives aren't as extraordinary as they had planned. All of the characters here, even minor ones, were so clearly developed and heartbreakingly real There's a movie version coming out in December, I've learned (which explains why this was on display at the library), with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio as the main characters. I think Kate Winslet is just right for the part, but I'm not as sure about DiCaprio. The stills on imdb.com look good so far, though.


4. The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie. It's not vacation without an Agatha Christie in the mix. This wasn't one of the best, but still satisfying. (As usual, I can't find an cover image of the actual copy I read -- her books have had way too many covers! Perhaps I'll start taking my own pictures eventually.)


5. What I Was by Meg Rosoff. The best part about this book? It only took me an afternoon to read it. Dull, anticlimactic, just bleh.


6. The Summer of Naked Swim Parties by Jessica Anya Blau. A 1970s coming-of-age story, but it lacked any real insight into the main character. Cute, but not much more to it than that.

Racing pace

I had to rush to finish this one, as it was due yesterday with no option to renew. We leave for vacation today, and I didn't really want 10+ days worth of fines. But I managed it without too much trouble -- I Capture the Castle is a relatively quick read. Cassandra, the likable and realistic narrator of Dodie Smith's novel, tells of her quirky family's troubles and successes in the 1930s English countryside. The descriptions of their home and its surroundings are gorgeous, and the plot moves swiftly but unhurriedly. I had seen the recent movie first, and though I didn't remember it clearly, I think it stayed fairly close to the book. (And as always, the book is most definitely better.) An excellent pre-vacation summer read.

(I confess this picture isn't actually the cover image from the version I read, but it's so much prettier. Movie tie-in covers aren't any fun.)

Literary meatloaf

I enjoy meatloaf -- flavorful, infinitely variable yet predictable, good as leftovers, filling, warming... What's not to like? I wouldn't want it every day, but it still makes for a good meal. The appropriately titled Comfort Food is much like meatloaf. Kate Jacobs' novel is a light and funny look at Gus, the middle-aged host of a well-known tv cooking show, and her flock of family, friends, and competitors. The book is rather predictable, but the characters are endearing (save Carmen, who I never quite cared about, and Sabrina, whose motivations never really made sense) and draw the reader into their stories. It's a tasty, quick, unchallenging read -- chick-lit with the twist of a slightly older than usual heroine, but otherwise your average take on the genre.

ETA: Blogger seems to be having difficulty with pictures. Will get that fixed soon, I hope. Pictures are working -- yay!

Happy to be ... where?

It's a sociological journey of sorts in Eric Weiner's The Geography of Bliss. On a quest to figure out what makes some places happy and others not so, he travels to some of the countries with the statistically happiest people (with one stopover in one of the most miserable places as well). I enjoyed Weiner's style -- I've seen him compared to Bill Bryson, which I don't think is quite right, though there are some similarities. I really liked all of the information on the science of happiness, which is quite a fascinating field. At points, the book felt a bit slow and redundant; certainly all the places were different, but some dragged a bit. Still quite a fun and interesting read -- Weiner nicely blends his own observations with research and facts about each place, making it both informative and introspective.

Challenge wrap-up

Officially, I've completed The Pub (2008) Challenge, since I've read 12 18 toward the minimum of 8 books published this year. There's still time to sign up, if you're interested -- it's been good to push myself to find and finish more newer books. I'll keep adding to the list as the year until the challenge ends, but so far I've read:

1. The Soul Thief by Charles Baxter
2. The Girl Who Stopped Swimming by Joshilyn Jackson
3. The Senator's Wife by Sue Miller
4. Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult
5. The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff
6. The Ten-Year Nap by Meg Wolitzer
7. The Lady Elizabeth by Alison Weir
8. The Invention of Everything Else by Samantha Hunt
9. The English American by Alison Larkin
10. The Heroines by Eileen Favorite
11. Belong to Me by Marisa de los Santos
12. The Story of Forgetting by Stefan Merrill Block
13. The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner
14. Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs
15. The Summer of Naked Swim Parties by Jessica Anya Blau
16. Girls in Trucks by Katie Crouch
17. Gossip of the Starlings by Nina de Gramont
18. How Far is the Ocean from Here by Amy Shearn

So far, The Story of Forgetting and The Monsters of Templeton have been the two I absolutely loved -- I'd highly recommend both of them. How Far is the Ocean from Here is another I'd recommend -- not as highly as the other two, but still very good.

Greater than the sum

Weirdly, I didn't like this book all that much, but it made me want to read more of Kate Christensen's writing. In The Great Man, she looks at the women who surrounded and supported a famous New York artist, who (five years after his death) has two biographers trying to analyze his life and find his secrets. The meetings with the writers allow the women (the artist's wife, mistress, and sister) to explore their own feelings about the man. The characters and story were interesting, but it wasn't the sort of book that made me want to keep reading it. Christensen's writing style is rather nice, though, and the characters were certainly vivid and well-developed, if a bit stereotypical at times.

Roses in December

It's hard to find words for why I loved this book so much and for a way to describe it without ruining it. The Story of Forgetting, by Stefan Merrill Block, alternates between two narrators: one an old man looking back on his life, the other a teenage boy trying to figure out his. Block's writing exquisitely weaves the two stories together, as well as a third tale of an imaginary world called Isidora. There are moments where you simply have to pause and notice how beautiful the words are, not to mention the story itself. This book deserves every bit of praise that has been heaped upon it.

The bonds that tie

Belong to Me felt very chick-lit at the beginning, but that perception faded as quickly as it came. While I suppose it qualifies as "women's fiction" (what with having female protagonists, the horror), it's not fluff. Marisa de los Santos explores suburbia and its dwellers without reducing them to stereotypes. At first, I thought there was no way the character of Piper could ever be redeemed and become even remotely human -- she's so unpleasant that you think she can't possibly exist, until you realize you know someone just like her. But the author rather skillfully allows her to grow, without changing what makes her interesting. I wasn't sure I liked where the ending was going when I got to the last third, but I realize in retrospect it couldn't have possibly gone anywhere else -- I don't think it's giving anything away to say that it fit perfectly, without being remotely predictable. Belong to Me examines the way our lives come together in unexpected ways, and how deeply one tiny moment can force us to be intertwined.

California dreaming

I learned after I finished The Ruins of California that it actually started out as a memoir, and then Martha Sherrill discovered some secret she could neither print nor leave out. I'm not sure whether I would have read it differently if I had known there was some autobiography to the novel -- I suspected as much anyway, when I read that both the author and her protagonist were raised in Los Angeles. Inez, the narrator and main character, tells us about her life split between her mother, a former flamenco dancer, and her bachelor father, with his revolving door of girlfriends and man-on-the-town lifestyle. I found it a little slow going at the very beginning but soon became completely absorbed in Inez's coming of age. For most of the book's 10-year span, she straddles a fascinating border of exposure to the free-living California of the '70s and her own innocence, which I suppose is common to any teenager in any time or place. Sherrill's novel is fast-paced enough to hold the reader's interest while being entirely character driven; the story really is simply Inez's development from child to young adult, though the culture of California at the time is captured here as well.