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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Strange perspectives

Two of-an-evening books, thanks to stormy evenings that kept us inside. The Heroines, by Eileen Favorite, has a fantastic premise: a young mother and her daughter run a bed and breakfast that is visited by heroines from classic literature -- Ophelia, Catherine Earnshaw, Hester Prynne, and more. That aspect of the book was very fun, but the plot itself drifted too much from that premise, with the daughter ending up in a mental ward for a large chunk of the book, a section I did not enjoy at all. That section felt forced, as if the author wanted too much reality infused into a novel that was so well grounded in fantasy. The rest of the book, while it had its moments, wasn't quite enough to make up for that.


Vendela Vida's first novel, And Now You Can Go, also has an intriguing premise. A man holds a young woman at gunpoint in New York's Riverside Park, only to disappear and leave her to deal with the shock. I really enjoy Vida's writing style, with short, quick-changing scenes that somehow flow seamlessly together. The story, however, lost me a bit -- I just wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to mean, or if it simply was what it was. Her second novel, Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name, was a much better story and used her writing style to better effect.

The quick and the mysterious

It's a mystery in which sheep are the detectives. It's got to be good. Indeed, Three Bags Full lives up to its whimsical promise, without every being silly. Leonie Swann's novel is plenty amusing (I even laughed out loud twice), but she's also quite serious and respectful toward her sheepy characters. And characters they are -- each with a distinct personalities that I can actually imagine sheep having. I highly recommend this one, especially if you've ever enjoyed an Agatha Christie mystery.


Alison Larkin's The English American is quite a bit sillier, but without any sheep. It's a very quick read and probably fits the chick lit category. This is an enjoyable book, but it doesn't have a lot of depth to it -- quite predictable, with rather stereotypical characters. Certainly not an unpleasant way to pass an afternoon, but nothing exceptional.

Of dreams and things

The Invention of Everything Else is one of those books that I ought to have enjoyed more than I did. Samantha Hunt's dreamlike writing is beautiful, her characters well drawn, and her plot intriguing, but it just lost me somewhere toward the end. I loved Louisa and her part of the story, but Tesla's memories were touched just a bit too much with that essential fogginess of memory. The way Hunt captured memory and its flaws is one of the things most enjoyable and most frustrating about the book -- I wanted more understanding, yet clearly it was meant to be vague. Really, I would certainly recommend this book, even though it didn't work for me. Maybe more of a wintertime read?

In short

I've finished two books I really enjoyed, and yet I have very little to say about either. I think it's the heat -- I'd rather sit still and read than sit at the computer and type. But here goes...


The Girl With No Shadow was published originally as The Lollipop Shoes, and I don't actually think either title works all that well. But Joanne Harris' continuation of the story from Chocolat does work very well. In this novel, she gives voices to three characters who alternate telling the story. It's a classic battle of good and evil, but with magical and fairy tale elements added in -- and, of course, plenty of chocolate.


In The Lady Elizabeth, Alison Weir takes her impressive historical knowledge and research to breathe life into Elizabeth I's coming of age. The story takes Elizabeth from the death of her mother to her becoming queen. It relies on the facts, as Weir did in Innocent Traitor, but it also adds plenty of fictional elements and intrigue. Weir's historical fiction feels so much more intelligent than many of the others out there, thanks to her background as a historian.

Month of neglect

At least I didn't entirely quit reading; I just ignored my poor little blog for a few weeks. Two books to catch up on since last I stumbled over here: First was Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. While I definitely enjoyed the book, I think I would have liked it better if I had read it at a more relaxing time. As they say (Doris Lessing said it, in fact), each book has its time for each person. It's hard to go wrong with Neil Gaiman, though, and I think I'll check out more of Pratchett's work as well.

Meg Wolitzer's newest book, The Ten-Year Nap, was a very interesting read. It looks at the lives of four women who left their careers to raise their children. Ten years later, their children don't need them quite as much, and they're left to question the meaning of their lives. All four were very different, and I liked the way Wolitzer examined their day-to-day experiences and feelings without being judgmental (though the women certainly judged themselves).

Ghosts and monsters

In Lauren Groff's The Monsters of Templeton, the main character, Willie Upton, sets herself on a quest through her family's history, which is also her small town's history. The book mingles Willie's story of coming home to her small town with different pieces of (fictionalized) historical evidence -- letters, first-person narratives, old books. At the same time, the town is dealing with the surprising sense of loss after its lake's monster dies.

Sounds complicated? It all works amazingly well, thanks to Groff's writing. I loved Willie Upton, despite finding her entirely unsympathetic at points, and I'm a sucker for quirky small town folks (Gilmore Girls or Haven Kimmel, anyone?). But Groff's story is never predictable or expected -- the characters and their histories are much too real and developed for that. For various reasons, it took me a while to read this book, but I found myself thinking of the characters often when I wasn't reading it. I almost wish there was a sequel -- I'd love to see where their lives go next.

Matters of the heart

Change of Heart is typical Jodi Picoult -- the book equivalent of comfort food. She uses her usual shifts between characters, tackles timely moral issues, and throws in a courtroom and a twist toward the end. The plot itself is complicated enough -- a death-row inmate wants to donate his heart to the girl whose father and sister he killed. But then Picoult brings in an even more complicated religious element that, in my opinion, was a little too much. Shay didn't need to be a Jesus figure for me to consider his rights -- his humanity was enough, especially the way the case was presented. It just seemed like overkill, which made the book not as strong as some of Picoult's others. I also wanted more from the mother, June -- her character was rarely present and seemed not as well drawn as others. At some points in the book, her absence worked well, but at others I needed to hear more from her. And the title is just a little too punny, but that's typical Picoult too, so I'll let it slide. Let's call Change of Heart meatloaf that's a tiny bit too dry -- still comforting, still awfully tasty, but not quite perfect.

What's love got to do with it?

In The Senator's Wife, Sue Miller intertwines the story of recently married and newly pregnant Meri with that of her next-door neighbor (and the title character) Delia. The novel moves between the two women, with a heavier focus on Delia, whose complicated relationship with her womanizing husband fascinates both Meri and the reader. In fact, despite disbelief from so many of the characters, Delia's love and forgiveness of Tom was much more believable and understandable than Meri and Nathan's relationship. They seemed quite mismatched, and I found myself disliking Meri in many places, especially in contrast to Delia -- the younger woman was just a little too selfish and too whiny, though I understand that worked beautifully against Delia's elegant generosity and contained emotions. The book was compelling and well-paced, but not anything to rave about.

The girl who kept reading

Both of Joshilyn Jackson's books that I've read have had the same effect on me: I thoroughly enjoy them while I'm reading them, but they don't stick with me at all once I'm done. (As proof, I always have trouble remembering the first of her books I read, even when I have the titles in front of me. It was Gods in Alabama.) The Girl Who Stopped Swimming is a fast-paced, engrossing novel, and I think it does have more depth than some plot-oriented books. There's a mystery element to it that really digs at the idea of who we all are on the inside, and the unraveling of that mystery was unexpected and thought-provoking. While I didn't particularly like the characters, I found them generally believable and entirely human -- flawed, interesting, occasionally really strange. My only real complaints are Thalia's name (too obvious -- the parents just happened to choose that name for the daughter who happened to be drawn to the theater?) and the bit of jacket copy that refers to a "literal" family skeleton. Let's look up words before tossing them around, shall we?

Stolen sense of comprehension

I finished The Soul Thief on an airplane, and after I read the last page, I closed the book, handed it to my husband, and said, "Here, read this and explain it to me." That's not to say I didn't enjoy reading the book, but Charles Baxter's novel left me more than a little bewildered. The first half of the book introduces a small contingency of grad students, including Jerome Coolberg, who enters as a strange cross between friend and nemesis to the main character, Nathaniel. I never quite grasped their relationship, though I think perhaps that was the point. The second half of the book takes place much later, with Coolberg re-entering Nathaniel's life. I appreciated Baxter's writing style -- observational and lyrical -- but the plot? To put it simply, I just didn't get it.