Once Upon a Time Challenge Review: Fairy Godmothers, Inc.

Not a lot of reading or writing going on here. Instead: 3 rehearsals last week for our choir program, working with my kids to finish up their school year within the next few weeks, trying to get Ben on track to start community college in the fall, celebrating my husband's birthday . . . it's been a busy May.

I still haven't decided which level of the Once Upon a Time challenge I'm actually doing (which makes it not so much a challenge, I guess, as an inspiration to read outside my comfort zone). I read a mythology-based book last month for book club (Lavinia, which I haven't reviewed). This week I read a fairy tale-based book, Fairy Godmothers, Inc.

I'd accepted a copy of this book from Jolly Fish Press prior to starting the challenge--it wasn't my usual genre, but a new spin on the fairy godmother concept sounded quirky and fun. The concept, and the protagonist, Kate, definitely lived up to that expectation. Still, I was mostly confused as I tried to jump into the fairy tale world. Was it too big of a leap for this realistic fiction reader? No--the beginning of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone confused me, too, but once I was into HP, I was in for the long haul. With Fairy Godmothers, Inc. I was impatient with the book much of the time, all the way through till the end.

On reflection, I think it comes down to the side characters. Cinderella (Rellie) and Prince Rupert, for instance--they're more like caricatures from a kids' movie than fully developed characters. This was funny at times (which is the point, I think) but it was funny in the way that a DreamWorks movie is funny. The end result was some major characters that I didn't connect with, and a story that was cute, but lacked depth. There was so much promise, but I think in the end, "quirky and fun" aren't enough for me. I want something more out of a book.

I think this book will be popular as a light summer read, though, especially for people who love fairy tales turned sideways.

Chief Complaint: Brain Tumor -- John Kerastas

Who knew a brain tumor could be funny?

Fortunately, John Kerastas's tumor isn't malignant, but it still sucks, of course. Chief Complaint: Brian tumor begins when 57-year-old Kerastas begins to suspect something is wrong with his vision, and continues through the first year after his diagnosis. Many worrisome things happen, but this is not a depressing book. His chronicle of this eventful year is full of self-deprecating humor. Okay, occasionally it gets a little too punch-liney for my tastes. Kerastas is that kind uncle who makes too many jokes to put people at ease and ends up making them more uncomfortable because now they have to feel awkward and laugh at his jokes. He knows this about himself. In fact, he's self-deprecating about the fact that he's self-depracating, and so you're reading along thinking, "Geez, John's trying too hard to make me laugh, here," and he's like, "I know, right?! Jane, stop this crazy thing!"

In my opinion the book would have benefited from letting the story ripen for another year, rather than cutting it off at the one-year mark. One year works great for the flurry of memoirs along the lines of  "I ate nothing but sea life for a year," or "I carpooled to work on horseback for a year," but when it comes to health issues, the timeline may need to be longer in order for the full story to unfold. This book ends with Kerastas still in treatment. In fact he's still in treatment now, while publicizing the book, so he's not yet at the end of his brain tumor story. Readers who want to see how it ends will have to follow the author's blog to find out. I certainly hope it ends well.

The Soundtrack: "Everything Gives You Cancer," from Joe Jackson's 80s album, Night and Day. I haven't listened to Joe Jackson in years, but I loved this album when I had it on cassette tape in 1982.

This book was sent to Worducopia by author John Kerastas. The opinions expressed in this post are solely my own and have not been approved or influenced by the author or a publicist.

When a Blog Becomes a Book

Some bloggers are funny, and some are downright hilarious. The funniest bloggers tend to also consider themselves a little crazy (except Raych at Books I Done Read, who is only crazy when it comes to making up her own grammar. Which cracks me up.)

I'd never read The Bloggess before being offered a copy of her book (now out in paperback) from the publicist. After checking out her blog, I decided she was funny enough and crazy enough to warrant reading the book. Was I right?

Well, Let's Pretend This Never Happened definitely made me laugh, so in that sense, yes.

Reading it really made me think about the differences in writing styles for different genres, though. Specifically, blog writing vs. memoir writing vs. novel writing.

Let me be clear that I'm not talking about writing ability. There are certainly plenty of bloggers out there whose unedited writing is nothing special, but those particular bloggers aren't getting book deals.

Incidentally, there are also plenty of published authors who would be incapable of amassing a large blog audience, much less entertaining them on a regular basis. Blogging effectively takes a certain style of writing--an in-your-face style that grabs readers' attention on the screen before they can click away to the next thing. Most people who read books will give them at least 2-3 pages before deciding it's not for them. Blog readers will give you a paragraph. Unless it's a long paragraph, in which case....C-ya.

Lawson's writing style is perfect for blogging. She has an irreverent and self-deprecating sense of humor, and a no-holds-barred honesty that probably embarrasses friends and family while making her regular readers alternately nod in agreement and snort coffee at their computer screens. Her book chapters have the same tone, making the pace of some of the longer chapters relentless, almost to the point of being manic. Yes, the book is intensely funny at times. Emphasis on the "intense." I sometimes needed to put it down just to give my brain a break.

Other chapters that would have been mildly amusing as blog posts (a series of increasingly ridiculous notes to her husband about a pizza box left out, for example), fell flat for me as a book chapter.  No problem--I just skipped over them, same as I would with a blog post that didn't strike me. Most of us expect to do this with blogs (and newspapers, magazines, pretty much any website), but with a book, skipping a chapter feels like cheating.

Friend: "Did you read Let's Pretend This Never Happened?"
Ali: "Yes! Well, all but that one chapter with the pizza box notes. And, actually...I kind of misplaced it toward the end, so I'm not sure I actually finished it. But, I did read most of it. Pretty much.

Now, imagine a conversation that goes:

Friend: "Do you read Confessions of a Pioneer Woman?"
Ali: "Yes! Well, to be honest, I only skimmed her last photo contest, and I don't exactly read the recipes, step by step. Oh, and there was one post last week about bottle feeding cows that I got distracted in the middle of and forgot to finish. But I do read most of it. Pretty much."

No, the conversation is more likely to go like this:

Friend: "Do you read Confessions of a Pioneer Woman?"
Ali: Yes! I love her.
Friend: Did you read the article about bottle feeding calves?
Ali: Um...maybe. I don't remember. When's it from?
Friend: Last week, I think.
Ali: Oh, I might have skipped it. I've been really busy.
Friend: You should read it, it's adorable.

(And by the way, I have these exact same conversations with people who read my blog, and it doesn't hurt my feelings in the least. This is how we manage online reading. No apologies necessary.)

I would prefer that a book didn't read like a blog, but this one does. And it's selling incredibly well--Lawson's fans adore her and so word of mouth is working its magic. As a blog-in-a-book, it's a good read. I just wonder if permeating the world of books with blog writing is a good thing.

Dwarf--Tiffanie DiDonato (Book Review)

***Note: Worducopia is migrating to a new comment system. Old comments have disappeared, temporarily I hope. If you have any problems placing a new comment, please email me at worducopia-at-gmail and let me know. Thank you! ***

I wasn't expecting to have a hard time with Dwarf. I like memoirs. I had a friend with dwarfism in high school, and so I thought it'd be an interesting read.

I wonder what my friend--a spunky, strong, independent young woman who probably measured 3'6"--would think of this book about a girl whose idea of coping with her condition was to defy medical advice to make herself as close to average height as possible.

The problem with this memoir was not the fact that DiDonato chose to have this unprecedented surgery (though I agreed with her father, her doctor, and her best friend, that it was a bad idea). The problem is that she then describes in agonizing detail all the pain and suffering that she went through after the voluntary surgery--and seems to expect readers to feel sorry for her empathize. I couldn't. I felt heaps more empathy when I read about the boy who purposefully set himself on fire (now, that was a tough read, but well worth it). Yes, Tiffanie, it hurts to break your bones in several places and then pull them apart! You didn't think of that??

So what led a 16 year old girl to make this decision? Maybe it was the eerie lullaby repeated throughout the book, that her mom apparently made up when she was a baby, to remind Tiffanie every day that she loved her even though she was small? Or maybe, being told that her father's reaction to her diagnosis at birth was to divorce her mom? (He rejoined the family when Tiffanie was a young girl, though he and Tiffanie's mom never officially remarried.)

Gratuitous Divorce 101 tip: Children need to be reassured that the divorce is not their fault, that, even though the marriage is ending, both parents still love their children as much as ever. (Or, you know--go the "your dad couldn't handle that you weren't perfect, so he left me when you were born" route. Your choice, I guess.)

Bizarre parenting choices like these--and like letting a 16 year old make a medical decision that her trusted doctor refuses to comply with--could make for an interesting memoir. But the author doesn't seem to have gained any more insight than she had as a teen. In fact, I assumed that she was in her early 20s, publishing an account that she had written as a teen (Nope--she's 32. Plenty of time for revisions). Her mother and herself are written as the brave heroes, and those who tried to talk her into accepting herself as she was (or at least going with a milder version of the surgery) as dolts who wanted her to remain dependent for the rest of her life. The fact that there might have been a gray area in between those two extremes doesn't seem to occur to the author, even now.

The story ends with the clear message that, if she hadn't lengthened her bones, her happily-ever-after ending would have been impossible (Really? She thinks her husband wouldn't have loved her if she were a foot shorter?) A fairy tale ending, a la The Little Mermaid movie. The fact that Ariel stops being a mermaid at the end instead of learning to accept herself with a tail has always irritated me. I guess that's just not the type of happy ending I can embrace.

Here's an interesting short video about Tiffanie, her family, and her controversial surgery: 'Dwarf': Woman Endures Painful, Controversial Surgeries to Grow Taller | Video - ABC News

The soundtrack:  Here's some classic Billy Joel: I Love You Just the Way You Are. Though it doesn't reflect the book, I think it's a good response to it.


I received Dwarf from the publicist, through the LibraryThing.com early reviewer program. 

Why I'm Sleep Deprived: Every Day (David Levithan)

Poor David Levithan. I can't see his name without thinking of the Leviathan series by Scott Westerfeld. It's a mental block. I am forever calling him David Leviathan, and thinking that he writes Scott Westerfeld's books.

[For what it's worth, Mr. Levithan, people are forever pronouncing my last name Jackal instead of Jakel (it sounds like the name Jake, with an L on the end) and then saying, "like in Day of the Jackal, hahaha!" So, I know how it is.]

But this angst over the author's name is not why I'm sleep deprived. The lack of sleep is because, three weeks ago, Chris brought home a copy of Every Day from the "Lucky Day" shelf of the library. (Does every library have a Lucky Day shelf?) After he finished it, Chris suggested that I could, and should, get it read before the 2/7 due date. I started it while waiting for Ben to see the doctor on Tuesday, but between doctor--> pharmacy--> flu grocery shopping --> writing group--> bed, I didn't get much read that day. Which is why I found myself falling asleep over the book at 11:30 last night, and then turning the light back on at 6:15 to squint my way through the last hundred pages.

Every morning, A wakes in a different person’s body, a different person’s life. There’s never any warning about where it will be or who it will be. A has made peace with that, even established guidelines by which to live: Never get too attached. Avoid being noticed. Do not interfere.

It’s all fine until the morning that A wakes up in the body of Justin and meets Justin’s girlfriend, Rhiannon. From that moment, the rules by which A has been living no longer apply. Because finally A has found someone he wants to be with—day in, day out, day after day.

As A passes from body to body and from life to life, Every Day is all the fun of Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveler's Wife without the confusion of the varying timelines. What I love is that it calls into question what makes you "You"--and what better theme for a YA book? In addition to identity, Levithan manages to touch on mental illness, gender issues, health, difficult family dynamics, and the meaning and cause of love, all without making the reader dizzy or pessimistic. I think this book would especially speak to teens who are in the middle of figuring out who they are, but it's a page-turner for adults as well.

The Soundtrack: I happened upon a list of books, movies, and songs at Just Add Books, and was tickled to find Every Day listed as one of Maree's favorite books. For the soundtrack, I'm choosing one of Maree's favorite songs, by Keb Mo. I think the chorus is quite fitting to the theme of the book: 

There's more than one way home

Ain't no right way, ain't no wrong

And whatever road you might be on

You find your own way 'cause there's more than one way home.

The Boy who Harnessed the Wind--Give away

It must be about a year ago now, that I saw a link to this book trailer on Twitter:



I can't believe it's been a year since then, people, where has the time gone?

William Kamkwamba's story touched me so deeply, I knew I needed to read his story. I got a copy of the book, and then lent it to a friend, who read it and returned it to me. I have read pieces of it since then. Only pieces.

So, why did I agree to participate in a TLC tour for the book? Well, because I think it's an important book and so I was going to finish it, of course. In fact, I was so going to finish it that I now have two copies of the book. Now they can make babies.

I am making this book part of our homeschool curriculum for this year, so I'll be finishing it with my kids this fall--

Wait a sec. Babies??? Good Lord! If my two books can make babies I'm in serious trouble, I don't have any extra bookshelf space! I obviously need to split up this happy couple before a population explosion occurs, so who wants a copy? How could you not want a copy, after watching that trailer?

If you'd like my gently-used advance reader copy, leave me a comment with your contact info and why you'd like to read it and I'll send it out to somebody. If they get it read and reviewed before I finish it, I'll eat the other copy.

Want to read an actual review of the book? Try Books By Their Cover, Chick With Books, Book Club Classics!, Find Your Next Book Here, The Zen Leaf, Eclectic/Eccentric or Reviews from the Heart

Look Great, Live Green (Deborah Burnes)--book review

I'm a little leery of the term "all-natural." What does it really mean? I mean, Botox is made from nature's own botulinum poison; chocolate chip cookies are man-made. I wouldn't take a bath in either of those, but I know which one I'd take to a potluck.

But I checked out Look Great, Live Green from the library because I figured if I'm going to be selling skin-care products, I should be prepared to answer questions from the die-hard natural skin care contingent (which includes quite a few of my friends). No single product is right for everyone, and if people have specific concerns about ingredients, I want to be able to address them, accurately and honestly.

There's a lot of useful information in here. Did you know many natural care companies have been bought out in the past decade? Burt's Bees (Clorox), Tom's of Maine (Colgate-Palmolive), Aveda (Estee Lauder), and The Body Shop (L'Oreal) are all now lines of larger companies. Also, Burnes gives clear information about the benefits of different types of products--the different types of masks, for example, or why toner is important--and how those benefits can be achieved most naturally. The "skin care makeover" section in the back of the book was also interesting, even though the author mostly replaced a variety of brands with one brand: hers.

That's right, Look Great, Live Green was written by a woman with her own line of all-natural skin care products. Hardly the objective source I was looking for. (This is not to say that it's three hundred pages of advertising--in fact quite a few other companies are included in her lists of recommended products.)

The author's bias is clear, though. She advises steering clear of certain ingredients even though the research is inconclusive or not specifically relevant to skin care; in fact, some of them are specifically recommended by dermatologists. For every type of cosmetic, she lists the ingredients of a particular product that illustrates things to avoid--but doesn't indicate the reasons. As you might expect, many ingredients appear in both the Ingredients to Avoid and Ingredients to Look For products. In fact, a person skimming the lists could come to the conclusion that water is to be avoided at all costs--after all, it's listed in nearly every product Burnes avoids!

In short, I finished the book feeling somewhat more conflicted, but no less confused than I'd started out.

Venetia Kelly's Traveling Show--Frank Delaney (book review)

Venetia Kelly is a young ventriloquist with charm that draws everyone in. When Ben MacCarthy's father, a stalwart Irish farmer, leaves his home and family to follow her traveling show across Ireland, Ben's mother sends him to find his father and bring him home. Each time he falters or fails, the stakes get higher, and he presses on.

Delaney tells two coming-of-age stories: that of young Ben MacCarthy, and that of Ireland in the 1930s. The text interweaves the threads through a series of fascinating "digressions," as the narrator calls them.

There's so much to like about this book. But, I found myself holding back, disconnected from both the characters and the plot. I blame foreshadowing.

When done well, foreshadowing gives just enough of a taste of what's to come to pull the reader further into the story. Judging from other reviews, Delaney's style had this exact effect on many readers. But it seems I'm a strange bird. I won't read thrillers because of their deliberate disaster-just-around-the-corner.... wait for it! Wait for it! taunting. I would much rather traipse through the protagonist's world alongside him, and later be devastated by a betrayal, than to stay emotionally distant from certain characters or situations because I've been told it will all go wrong soon. Kind of like the author inserting his own little spoilers right into the text.

I did appreciate many things about the book though: Ben's storyteller friend's periodic reinterpretations of the narrative to make it into the stuff of which legends are made; the colorful characters Ben meets on his quest through Ireland; the use of a ventriloquist's dummy as both a character and a political commentator; the narrator's self-deprecating sense of humor. It all adds up to an enjoyable tale with a bit of Irish history thrown in for good measure.

By Alison Jakel

This book was provided for review by TLC Book Tours. The opinions expressed in this post are solely my own and have not been approved or influenced by TLC book tours, the publisher, or the author.

The Lunatic, the Lover, and the Poet--Myrlin Hermes (book review)

Behind every work of fiction lies some form of truth. So, what might be the truth behind Shakespeare's tragic play, Hamlet? That's the question that drives The Lunatic, the Lover, and the Poet.

Imagine that Horatio is a regular old sixteenth century bisexual guy who meets a Danish prince and falls in love. Eventually he writes a play inspired by bits and pieces of Hamlet's life, but first, there must be love triangles, misunderstandings, and people disguised as other people--because Shakespeare is all about the love triangles and disguises, after all, and Horatio is Shakespeare. That is, he is the playwright who, at the end of the novel, writes the famous tragic play.

It gets complicated. Myrlin Hermes' novel has been described as a prequel to Hamlet, but it's not quite that simple, because the plot of Hamlet (the play) is not the truth of what happens to Hamlet (the character in the novel). Behind the scenes of Hamlet's story, though, the themes remain the same. The Lunatic, the Lover, and the Poet offers a new twist on those themes, without all that messy blood and poison at the end, and offers readers a chance to reread the play with a new perspective on both the characters, and the author behind them.

By Alison Jakel

This book was provided for review by TLC Book Tours. The opinions expressed in this post are solely my own and have not been approved or influenced by TLC book tours, the publisher, or the author.

Four books I wish I'd loved (mini-reviews)

I was looking forward to reading Where the God of Love Hangs Out because Amy Bloom writes beautifully, but her Away didn't appeal to me. Unfortunately, she's now 0 for 2 with me. Again, the writing is lovely. And again, the storyline (or lines, in this case, as this is a sort of half collection of short stories, half novella) pushed me away when characters took off in directions I just didn't get. Several connected stories trace the path of an ongoing affair between two married friends; another group of stories follow the relationship with a woman and her stepson that inexplicably veers into inappropriate territory and never finds its way back. I think I know where she was going with these, but she left me behind. (LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program sent me this)

Start off with a self-centered character with a chip on her shoulder. Have the character announce her big plan to her family over Christmas--a plan that is about as mature and well-thought out as a 6-year-old's plan to run away from home, and that involves disrupting the life of her 16-year-old niece/daughter. The family is shocked and angry, the issue is discussed between every possible pairing of family members with the exception of the neice/daughter. Though she's supposed to be the key to the plot, the teen floats through the book cheerfully saying hi to everyone and pointing out cute jeans in magazines. She doesn't seem to have much of a relationship with anyone in the book, least of all her aunt/mother who wants to take her home with her. Toss in a quick semi-romance for the heck of it, and there you have it. (Another book from LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program)

The Ice Chorus follows Liselle as she retreats from her marriage (destroyed while she cheated on her husband with a painter named Charlie) and her son (equally destroyed, and refusing to speak to her) to a cottage in an Irish fishing village. I enjoyed the village and the stories of the people she met and interviewed there. I only wish the aspects of the story that moved beyond the romance-from-afar --and there were many-- had developed into the main focus of the story, because the flashbacks to the romance with Charlie did nothing to convince me that the man was worth waiting for. I didn't like him, and I didn't like Liselle when she was with him. I had a hard time empathizing with her pain over her son not talking to her, given how she'd handled the end of her marriage. As she waited in the cute fishing village for Charlie to show up, my greatest hope for her was that he wouldn't show, and that she would grow enough through her experiences there to decide she didn't need him after all. (Author Sarah Stonich sent me this book).

This is a classic case of a book coming too highly recommended. The blogger-types, they adore Beth Kephart. And after so much gushing, I expected Nothing But Ghosts to blow me away. And, it was . . . fine.

Fine was not the reaction I was hoping for.

I put off reviewing it for a couple of months, in hopes that its brilliance would reach me through osmosis if it sat next to my bedside table long enough. The result was that I forgot what it was about and had to read all the reviews I could handle (oh, the gushing!) to remind myself. I now remember the plot, but I can't remember why Katie didn't especially grab me, why her grief over her dead mom didn't tear me up even a little, why Kephart's words didn't leap off the page straight into my heart. Just that they didn't, and I wish they had (I bought this book at A Children's Place bookstore).

Sunday Salon: a review in the post-holiday lull

Christmas is over, the goose is getting fat!

(Wait, that's not quite right...)

We had a lovely holiday chez Worducopia, though not quite complete as I didn't make my mom's stuffing recipe (we had wild rice and mashed potatoes so I decided to cut back on the carbs). Therefore, tonight's dinner will be stuffing, stuffing, and more stuffing! Some may choose to have leftovers with their stuffing; others may just eat stuffing, and my sister's fudge.

The morning cough I'd had for a week finally worked up enough steam to blossom into a full-blown cold on the day after Christmas, so I spent much of the day in bed. I finished Thanksgiving at the Inn, which is less Thanksgiving-ish than it sounds and was the perfect post-Christmas read. I'd been saving it to read with my kids, but our read-aloud time isn't keeping up with our stack of books, so I decided to read it myself for now.

The grandfather Heath never knew has left Heath's father an inheritance with strings attached: Heath and his father must live in and care for the grandfather's inn and its longterm residents. Heath finds himself getting to know his grandfather post mortem, through the memories of this new makeshift family, while his relationship with his recovering-alcoholic father goes from rocky to rockier.

I'd call this a family read. The narrative voice and storyline seems aimed at the 9-12 year old range, but there are more issues (Dad's alcoholism, an autistic neighbor, adults with checkered pasts) than I'd want to hand over to middle grade readers to read alone.

Green Books Campaign: Ecoholic

This review is part of the Green Books campaign. Today 100 bloggers are reviewing 100 great books printed in an environmentally friendly way. Our goal is to encourage publishers to get greener and readers to take the environment into consideration when purchasing books. This campaign is organized by Eco-Libris, a company working to green up the book industry by promoting the adoption of green practices, balancing out books by planting trees, and supporting green books. A full list of participating blogs and links to their reviews is available on Eco-Libris website. The above logo was created by Susan Newman.

Be careful what you wish for.

In recent years I've yearned for one place that would inform me about which products were good, bad or indifferent for the environment and my body. Not just a list of toxic ingredients to scan for on every bottle of sunscreen or shampoo--a list of safe products to make or buy. I know that certain cleansers are extremely toxic, but if a product says Clorox and "green" on the same label, is it truly green? And what about water bottles? The disposable ones are out, for so many reasons, but what to use instead?

Adria Vasil's Ecoholic has all this and more, in 370 readable pages. So readable that I started out reading it cover to cover, until I realized this method would kill me.

It's so comprehensive that unless you're a die-hard environmentalist of the no-deodorant-or-packaged-toothpaste variety, you run the risk of realizing that you're doing more things wrong than right. Between your polyurethane-filled mattress, the formaldehyde in your sheets and pillow, and the toxins you've slathered onto your body in the interest of being clean, you should maybe avoid breathing at night, just in case. And yet, last I checked, breathing is still necessary for survival.

This is where baby steps come in. Because, there are solutions to most of these issues, but a person can't tackle them all at once. I can't run out and buy a new mattress right now, but when I do, I'll be glad to have Ecoholic at hand to help me through the process. And in the meantime, I can start looking through my medicine cabinet and under my kitchen sink, and at least switch to an aluminum-free deodorant, right? Ecoholic also provides the motivation for paying that little bit more for biodegradable detergents and so on.

I highly recommend buying Ecoholic as a first step towards better health for yourself and the earth. It's one purchase you won't feel guilty about! It was printed using eco-friendly ink using a low-emissions process, on 100% recycled paper; this saved 212 trees in its first printing as well as over 13 thousand pounds of solid waste, 127 thousand gallons of water, and thirty thousand cubic feet of natural gas.

Faloorie Man--Eugene McEldowney (book review)

Eugene McEldowney's Faloorie Man has been out for ten years, but Gemma Media brought it to the U.S. in 2009. This charming semi-autobiographical novel is the coming-of-age story of a Catholic boy growing up in Belfast in the post-World War 2 era. Here's one of my favorite moments, when young Martin McBride decides, for the first time in his life, to go and have a look at the Protestant Taylor boys, who are rumored to live nearby. Martin's never seen a Protestant before, and he's in for a shock.

I didn't know what to expect, but I wouldn't have been surprised if they had horns on their heads. I remembered what Sarah had told me about the Titanic and the way the Orangemen had cursed the Pope and how God had let the sea drown them. It seemed to me that these Taylors would be bad pills altogether.

We finally tracked them to the waste ground at Butler Street. There were two of them and they were kicking a football around. They looked exactly the same as us. They had the same scuffed shoes and snotty noses and torn cardigans. There were no obvious signs that they were Protestants. I was disappointed. We took a good look at them and then got on our bikes and went home.

Such a simple scene, and yet, it says so much. This is McEldowney's strength. Scenes such as this leave a stronger impact than the more dramatic plot developments later in the novel.

The Soundtrack: Oh, how I wanted to find the song the book's title is taken from! I couldn't find it online. But the narrative is full of music, including the lyrics to Boolavogue. The narrator recalls his teacher, Brother Delargey, teaching the class rebel songs, "which he said the English had tried to suppress, but they lived on in the hearts of the people because the Irish were indomitable and would never be put down."

House and Home--Kathleen McCleary (book review)

House and Home is the story of a woman obsessed with her home and the meaning it holds for herself and her family. Ellen's husband has lost their life's savings in an inventor's investment gone wrong and her marriage is over. She can live with that, but not with the fact that she and her two young daughters will have to move across town to a perfectly nice home that doesn't hold the same appeal. Not only that, but one of the new owners irritates her, and for this reason she decides to burn the house down.

In order to enjoy this book, you have to get over the fact that the main character is throwing a mid-life tantrum because she doesn't get to live in her perfect house.

Underneath that, though, is an apt commentary on the emphasis that American culture puts on the perfect home creating the backdrop for the way we want to see ourselves and to be seen. We know that the joy of life is made up of far more important things than hardwood floors and big windows, and yet how much do we covet lazy Sunday mornings with Fiestaware cups of coffee and patches of sun on a beautiful hardwood floor? Ellen's story puts it all into perspective in a big way.

The Soundtrack: An old favorite of mine, Our House by Crosby Stills Nash and Young, which probably better reflects my own attitude towards home than Ellen's.

Our house is a very very very fine house
With two cats in the yard
Life used to be so hard
Now everything is easy 'cause of you.

This review is part of a promotional book tour, which I am participating in as a volunteer. The opinions are my own, and have not been endorsed or approved by TLC Book Tours, the author, or the publisher. Other stops on the tour can be found at the TLC Book Tours site.

Reading Down Memory Lane

I decided to go back to my old LibraryThing records and pull up my favorite reads that fit in with the Gay Pride Month theme. Now that I've done it, it was so fun that I may make this a regular thing--pulling old reviews that somehow tie together with a theme.

A Home At The End Of The World, by Michael Cunningham

This is still one of my all-time favorite books, and after overcoming my fear that his other books would dash my expectations and leave me despondent, I went on to read, and love-love-love, every book Cunningham has written (that link is to my gushy post about him). Rumor has it he's contemplating writing the screenplay for a slasher movie after his next novel. If so, it'll be the first slasher movie I ever go see. He'll probably manage to make the slasher lovable. Here's what I wrote in May, 2007:

I don't reread books very often, but this is one of those books where you read a passage and it so succinctly captures a moment, scene, or character, that you have to read it again just to take the whole thing in. Then you want to look up from the book for a minute to absorb it, read it again, and then dive back into the story to find out what happens next. This is the first book I've read by Michael Cunningham and I'm afraid to read any more. But, I'm going to anyway.

It's the story of two childhood friends, Jonathon and Bobby, who drift apart and together again throughout their lives because they can't quite admit to being in love with each other. They find various ways to be together, along with Clare, who becomes the mother to a baby that is biologically Bobby's but emotionally just as much Jonathon's child. They build a life together. But the brilliance in this book is the way it presents the characters in all their imperfections, the way they don't do what you want them to do and you understand why. No, the briliance is how it's written, actually. The plot is secondary. I need to go read it again.

My Heartbeat, by Garret Freymann-Weyr

I read this long before starting my LibraryThing account, so it's not in my library. The fact that I still remember it speaks volumes about how much I loved it, because I started on LibraryThing to keep authors and titles from flying out of my head so quickly. The gist: Ellen is 14 and fascinated by the close relationship between her big brother Link and his best friend James. When she developes a crush on James, she comes to realize that his relationship with her brother is more complicated than she had thought. This is so well done. I can't believe I haven't read any of Freymann-Weyr's other books--just got her latest from the library and it's calling to me over the top of my book pile.

At Swim, Two Boys by Jamie O'Neill

I picked this up because of my penchant for Irish fiction. Though my 2007 review was mixed, I find that I remember it fondly in hindsight:

I enjoyed parts of this book very much. O'Neill does a brilliant job of unfolding the relationships between people and letting them grow and contract in a very natural way. I read several of the scenes (no, not just the racy ones) two or three times because they were so beautifully laid out.

It was a little hard to understand at times, not because of the dialect ('tis very Irish, so it is--if you like the lilt of Frank McCourt's 'Tis you'll love this) but because of the author's style. Incomplete sentences. Thoughts unfinished. Many words on the page, one after the other, the way words normally occur, and yet—. Sometimes describing thoughts and at other times, the scene. Confusing.

The book takes place in 1915-1916, just before the Easter Rising that resulted in the independence of the Republic of Ireland, and it puts the reader into the middle of that conflict. This is good if you like history, which I do. If you didn't I think it might pull you away from the story, trying to figure out which side is which and how it all connects. I never did quite figure out which side a couple of the characters were on--or maybe that was the point. And, well, I didn't love the ending, but that's personal preference--it was very well done, it just wasn't the exact ending I would have chosen.

The Lost Language of Cranes, by David Leavitt

Okay, my review of this looks pretty critical, but I had friends who adored this book so I was coming at it from that vantage point. In fact, one person told me that if I'd liked A Home At the End of The World (still on my all-time favorites, list, remember) I would love this. So, I wanted to be blown away. Here's what I wrote after I finished it:

I wasn't impressed with this one. Leavitt has a tendency to tell us what's happening, then take three steps backward to tell us what led up to that happening, filling in the even earlier backstory along the way. The result is that you read 10 pages to find out: Owen is walking somewhere. His wife is home working (and they have to either buy their apartment or move, and they have a grown son, here's what his apartment is like, and here's what they talked about when she had lunch with him one time and then she took a cab ride but that was another day because now we're back in the apartment hearing about how her husband was gone when she woke up and now it's page 14 and she's working, like she was on page 4, and she's going to go for a walk.) Then we meet the son and his lover, but now we're going back 3 weeks to read the story of how they met.

Novels don't have to be completely linear, but I began to feel like I was floundering around inside this one, trying to find the story, trying to figure out if anything was actually going to happen that related to the situation the author chose to begin his novel with. (It does, but by the time it did I cared less than I had at the beginning.)

Some of the dialogue seems contrived. Phillip sounds like a bad parody of a mental health counselor: "I miss her. I feel very sad about it." And some of the conversations between father and son toward the end of the book, I just found impossible to swallow, which in turn made the relationship seem false. Since that relationship was a pivotal part of the novel, it was disappointing to say the least.

Do you have a favorite book or author to highlight for Gay Pride month? Why not participate in this month's Diversity Roll Call here on Worducopia?

Into the Beautiful North--Luis Urrea (Book Review)

Luis Alberto Urrea's Into The Beautiful North is a road trip story with a twist. Three nineteen-year-old girls and Tacho, their gay male friend, are on a mission to save their village, which they've suddenly realized has lost all its men to the North. In an effort to recreate the heroics of the movie The Magnificent Seven, they aim to cross the U.S. border and bring seven Mexicans back to Tres Camarones with them to defeat the drug dealers who they fear will take over the town.

The naivety of Nayeli and her friends is part of the charm as they set off on their trek to the United States. Urrea is an artist when it comes to setting the scene, using just the right number of brush strokes to paint a clear picture without letting the action drag. Here's Nayeli, exploring the mini-village that's been haphazardly erected out of old garage doors and box springs, in the Tijuana city dump:

Nayeli backed away from the dog and wandered down the alley to the edge of the cemetery. She was startled to see smoke rising from one of the graves. The crosses and painted furniture were stark in the morning light. Etched like charcoal drawings. Somewhere, a radio was playing--she recognized the song. Dave Matthews. She always liked that rola, the one where he asked the woman to crash into him, though now it seemed like the loneliest thing she'd ever heard.

As the tale unfolds, their adventure becomes the backdrop for a subtle commentary on the politics of immigration. This should come as no surprise, given Urrea's history as the author of The Devil's Highway, a work of nonfiction centered around Mexican-American immigration, but Into The Beautiful North is entirely fiction. That is, except for Tacho. . . . And Aunt Irma. Those characters are based on real people. But, I digress. Where was I? Ah, yes--subtle commentary on the politics of immigration:

Nayeli was stunned to see mothers with children--the kids weeping and snot faced. She heard indiginous tongues in the pen--shamanic-sounding utterances that felt a million years old to her, sounds of jungle and temple and human sacrifice.

Nayeli looked at the migra agents through the iron mesh. Big men. Happy, bright-faced men. Shiny and crisp. Green uniforms. Short hair. Mustaches.

What made them different from her?

She could not tell.

The writing is beautiful, the story and characters are engaging. The only thing missing from the story is a sense of urgency. The bandidos in Tres Camarones don't actually do anything except sit around in their cars, looking ominous. The reader is able to enjoy the adventure of Nayeli and friends as if it were a topsy-turvy college Spring Break. A scene or two of these fellows wreaking havoc back in Tres Camarones would have turned a pleasurable read into a gripping, can't-put-it-down book.

The Soundtrack: Urrea is a big music lover, and has created an entire playlist for the book, soon to be published on Largehearted Boy. He says, "I think of Shake Away by Lila Downs as the theme song." And since I quoted the reference to it, here's the Dave Matthew's Band song as a bonus.

Publication Info: Little, Brown & Company, May 2009

First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria--Eve Brown-Waite (book review)

I'll never forget the day my friend Andy came over soon after he'd returned from two years spent in Ghana with the Peace Corps. He sheepishly told us that after grappling with an insatiable hunger all morning, he'd grabbed his mother's box of tapioca and cooked up a big pot of it for breakfast--the closest thing to the starchy fufu (made from cassava root, like tapioca is) he'd been eating three times daily for two years.

I think I said something like, "Foofoo? They actually call it that with a straight face? Foofoo?"

"Yeah, I'll make you some. Takes some getting used to, but it's good with stew."

He did make us fufu one night for dinner, along with a peanut stew. We scooped it out of a communal bowl with our hands (okay, I eventually bailed on the communal bowl and dished myself a plateful) and he told us stories about the Ghanaians and Peace Corps volunteers who had been his neighbors and friends. Afterwards he thanked us heartily for letting him share a little bit of Ghana, but it's been nearly twenty years since that night and I've never forgotten it. Thank you, Andy.

Reading First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria is a similar gift--like having a friend return from abroad and give you the real scoop on the wider world. Brown-Waite manages the tricky business of communicating homesickness and culture shock while respecting different approaches to life, without coming across as a whiner. The contrast between her reactions to things and her "Peace Corps poster boy" husband's reactions adds humor and perspective.

The Soundtrack: This was a tough one. I couldn't find anything on Playlist. Found a video of Philly Lutaaya, a Ugandan singer who did a lot towards publicizing the AIDS situation in Africa. Almost perfect (Brown-Waite worked on AIDS education while in Uganda), but long, and I'm not crazy about the quality of the video. So I went with the upbeat song instead. This is Ragga Dee, with Ndigida.

Secret Son

In Secret Son, Laila Lalami takes readers on a trip to Morocco, complete with sights, sounds, and smells. Nineteen-year old Youssef El Mekki enrolls in college in an attempt to rise above life in the slum he was raised in, when he learns that there may be another way out. His father, who he'd been told was dead, is actually a very successful businessman, who just might be interested in building a relationship with his illegitimate son he's never known.

Apart from the Moroccan setting--which I loved--this book didn't stand out for me one way or the other. I think someone with a head for politics would have a better appreciation for the underlying tension between different factions, which I have to admit went in one eye and out the other some of the time. And, apparently I was never fully on board with Youssef, because at times his actions and reactions had me stymied, especially near the end.

In the spirit of some of my favorite posts from Presenting Lenore, I'd like to share 8 memories of my own trip to Morocco, in college.

1. Arriving with big plans to lounge around on the beach all week, only to be told by our tour leader that all of the beaches within walking distance of our hotel were both unsafe for women and grossly polluted.

2. Finding a local bakery and deli that sold delicious round loaves of bread and several kinds of Moroccan cheese. We'd never heard of Moroccan cheese before! Lunch for the week: done.

3. Meeting Abdul, who offered to take us around to meet his "friends," all of whom just happened to sell overpriced rugs and leather to make their living.

"The government really needs to help our sector," Nabil was saying. "One problem, for example, is false guides. It's impossible for a foreign tourist to have a good time if he's going to be hounded by guides at every corner."

Impossible? Nah. Difficult, maybe.

4. Wandering among heaping piles of spices and olives at the market. The aromas!

5. Taking a bus from one town to the next, and watching them load the goats and chickens onto the top of the bus. Even more fun: watching them unload. Mehhhhh! Bawk! Bawk!

6. Making friends with a fellow tourist, a Welsh ex-con (or so he said) who was interesting to talk to, though upon further aquaintance turned out to be somewhat insane.

7. Splurging on a horseback riding and lunch tour package with a friend on the last day. Riding horses on the sands of the (safe and unpolluted) beach, then making our way back to the guide's home, where his wife made us a glorious tajine--the best (and only authentic Morrocan) food we'd had all week, unless you count the bread and cheese.

8. Coming back to the hotel from the horseback ride, telling the Welsh ex-con that our fannies were sore from riding, watching his jaw drop. Lesson learned: "fanny" refers to a completely different part of the anatomy in England than it does in the U.S.

The Soundtrack: "He played H-Kayne on the stereo every morning, as if the music could somehow conjure up his mother, his friends, his old neighborhood." H-Kayne is defined as "Hip hop made in Morocco." It has a very different sound from American hip hop, though, so even if you think you don't like hip hop you should give it a listen, in my sidebar.

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

Loved the flyleaf blurb on this John Boyne book:

The story of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is very difficult to describe. Usually we give some clues about the book on the jacket, but in this case we think that would spoil the reading of the book. We think it is important that you start to read without knowing what it is about.If you do start to read this book, you will go on a journey with a nine-year-old boy called Bruno. (Though this isn’t a book for nine-year-olds.) And sooner or later you will arrive with Bruno at a fence. Fences like this exist all over the world. We hope you never have to encounter such a fence.

That said, starting a book with literally no idea of anything about it turns out not to be the best strategy for me. I like an inkling of time and place. Spending the first dozen pages of the book going, "Okay, I got it, it's Germany! But wait: is it war-time Germany? Which war?" impedes my entrenchment in the Land of Make Believe. Add to this the fact that young Bruno gets the names of people and places wrong--which was a cute device, until he saw it written down and still wouldn't share the proper name with the reader. Then I was annoyed.

Bruno annoyed me quite a bit, come to think of it. In fact, I was livid with him a couple of times. This isn't necessarily a bad thing--his naivety is one theme of the story, and while it protects him, in a sense, from the anti-Semitism that surrounds him, it can also make him unintentionally cruel and callous. In an era where many Americans prefer not to look past their front yards, there's an important message in this story where a child is blind to the prison camp that's literally in his own front yard.

The Soundtrack: I chose 1921, from The Who's Tommy because these lyrics kept running through my mind when I was writing this review: "You didn't hear it, you didn't see it! You won't say nothing to no one never in your life. You never heard it. Oh, how silly it all seems
Without any proof.and because of the haunting last words, "What about the boy?" Listen to it in the sidebar.

Flygirl--Sherri Smith (Book Review)

Ida Mae Jones learned to fly from her father before he died; now her dream is to get her pilot's license. That dream must be shelved when the U.S. enters World War Two following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. But when her older brother goes off to war and Ida Mae learns of an opportunity to help by flying planes with the Women Airforce Service Pilots, she knows she can't pass up the opportunity.

Even if it means forging her pilot's license. Even if it means not mentioning the fact that she's not exactly white. "Passing" isn't unheard of in Ida Mae's world, but, as Ida Mae learns, it leads down a road that's not as easy to follow or to backtrack from. Can she really be herself with new friends if they can never meet her darker-skinned family? And who is she really flying for--her brother, her country, or herself?

This book is fabulous in its depth and character development. In many ways it reminded me of Christine Fletcher's Ten Cents a Dance, another YA historical novel set on the homefront during World War Two. They're very different books, but both feature strong female young women who are so drawn to something that they go against their mothers' wishes to do it. Both protagonists walk a fine line between two worlds and end up in over their heads. Both risk losing their sense of identity in a world that's foreign to them. Both books offer a historical perspective with contemporary appeal, and neither one shies away from the racism that underlies so much of what happened during that era.

Sherrie Smith is the author of three additional YA books. More information about Smith and her books (including discussion guides) can be found on her website, SherriLSmith.com. There's also a Myspace page for Ida Mae!

The soundtrack: When Ida walks into the Avengerette with her friends (past the sign that says Whites Only), the song Dream a Little Dream of Me is playing. I decided to use this rendition, by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.