"The Boston Girl": A Sentimental Interview with a Grandma

When my grandmother was 85 years old, my husband and I interviewed her at Thanksgiving.  We did it because we wanted her to be able to tell her stories and we wanted to have her voice recorded for when she was no longer with us.  We asked questions about her family, her courtship with our grandfather, what it was like living through war time, what her holiday celebrations used to be like, what it was like living in inner-city Baltimore in a row home with 12 brothers and sisters, and what her thoughts were on life today.

My grandmother had nothing bad to say about anything.  She never complained about sharing her home's one bathroom with 15 other people or about sharing her home's two bedroom's with all of her siblings.  She kept coming back to the statement, "We were always together, and we always had something to do. We were happy." Her memories were sentimental and rosy, even the ones about the Great Depression and how little they had.

Maybe because I interviewed my grandmother all those years ago, I was particularly touched by Anita Diamant's most recent novel "The Boston Girl." I haven't read an Anita Diamant novel since I read "The Red Tent" (and loved it), so I was excited to read this book even after I read a snarky book review in the Washington Post which basically said that it had all the vibrancy of plastic flowers.  I disagree with that review.

The book is set up as an 85 year old grandmother (Addie Baum) telling her granddaughter (Ava) about her life.  Because of that premise, it is a rather G rated retelling of a life full of tragedy and triumph, and because of my similar experience with my grandmother, I was drawn in from the first page.  Rather than getting too close to the tragedy or even the romance, Addie tells her granddaughter the facts and the fun stories about how her life unfolded in Boston.  Growing up as the youngest daughter of Jewish immigrants, Addie lived in a dingy tenement building.  Her mother was anything but kind choosing instead to criticize and bicker, complain and torment over being loving and comforting.  Addie's father was a little bit better, but as Addie tells her granddaughter, this was the time before men were really expected to be engaged fathers especially with their daughters.

Addie's recalls her time in her Saturday Club where she forged life long friendships and connections that propelled her into her journalism career.  She rebels (safely) from her parents' wishes for her to work in a sweatshop to help provide for the family, and instead pursues a more academic focused life of poetry recitations, meeting famous artists, finding work in journalism and becoming a writer.

There is friendship, romance, death, suffering, family turbulence and signs of the times discussed like child welfare laws and the treatment of women in the workplace.  Because it is a grandmother talking to her granddaughter, there are plenty of aphorisms about life thrown about like "You should always be kind to people, Ava. You never know what sorrows they're carrying around."

What I liked best about this book is the nostalgic look back at a life well lived just like when I listened to my grandmother talk about how beautiful her life was.  Overly sunny? Maybe.  Not tragic or gruesome enough? Absolutely. Worth the read? I think so.

This will be my first Thanksgiving since my grandmother died, and I am looking forward to listening to her recorded voice with all of her memories of a life well lived.

"Lottery": Heartwarming and Likable

The lottery reminds me of Gram. 
When we would buy tickets she would say, "You know, Perry, life's all just one big goddamned lottery. Some of us have brains, some of us don't.  Some people draw cancer.  Others win car accidents and plane crashes.  It's just a lottery.  A goddamned lottery." 

Hasn't everyone at some point in their lives dreamed of winning the lottery? We buy the winning lottery ticket and all the sudden our lives change unexpectedly for the better.  We pay off our debts, give money to charity, go on fancy vacations, spruce up our home, or even buy another house altogether.  We never need to worry about money again. Our kids can attend the college of their choice.  We can stop working and stressing.  Life would be easy.

What would it be like to win the lottery?

Most of us will never know, but for the few that win the lottery, their journeys with money aren't always smooth and easy.

In Patricia Wood's novel "Lottery" (2007), she presents the story of Perry L. Crandall.  He's a 32 year old with an IQ of 76 which as he tells us over and over again doesn't mean that he is "retarded" but "slow." He and his Gram took care of each other after his mother abandoned him.  Gram is a feisty old woman with many lessons for Perry.  "Gram always told me the L in my name stood for lucky.  And that I might be slow, but I'd get to where I was going in my own time." She encourages Perry to be his own person and to embrace all that he has rather than think he is less than anyone else.

Perry (called Per by his best friend Keith) feels lucky even before he wins a $12,000,000 lottery jackpot.  He loves his Gram and his best friend Keith.  He is a loyal employee at Holstead's, a boat supplier company, and he loves his boss, Gary.  He and his Gram have their routines and rituals - buying lottery tickets, reading Reader's Digest, studying words every day out of the dictionary, grocery shopping together, watching t.v. and living simply and happily.  When Gram dies, things go downhill for Perry as his evil family members peck away at the little bit that Gram left for him and leave him with virtually nothing.  No one from his family offers to help him, but his friend Keith and his boss Gary step in and set him up with what he needs to survive.  It's not until Perry wins the lottery that his life changes dramatically.

The vultures in his family want to swoop in and trick Perry into giving them his winnings in order to pay off their bad business dealings.  Their biggest problem is that they underestimate Perry L. Crandall who listened hard to Gram's life lessons about who to trust.  She warned Perry about his family and instructed Perry carefully about choosing who to trust wisely.  Not only did Gram give him the wisdom he needs to help him through the tricky business dealings after winning the lottery, he also has Keith, his best friend who selflessly protects him.

What I loved about this story is how lovable Perry is.  It reminded me a little bit of reading "Flowers for Algernon" and how a below average intelligent person experiences a huge life turn around with unexpected results.  In Charley's case, he won the brains lottery before it was taken away from him.  In Perry's case, he won the monetary lottery and what he wants with the money and how he handles winning are very different than what readers would expect.

Perry is endearing.  So is Gram.  So is Keith.  So is Cherry.  So is Gary.

Perry's blood sucking family members are almost too evil to be true, but when money is involved the worst in people can emerge.

The biggest surprise in this book is that it is way more a story about what it means to be fortunate than what it means to win the lottery.  During this month of gratitude, I am often reminded of how very fortunate I am to have what I have in my life.  I adore my husband.  I love my two healthy daughters who fill my life with so much joy.  I live on a beautiful street in a great neighborhood with amazing neighbors.  I have great friends and family members.  I am healthy.  I do what I love every day of my life.

Just like Perry discovers in Wood's novel, winning the lottery is way more than winning money.  It's about recognizing what good fortune means.  It's about finding what you are good at doing and doing it.  It's about finding the people who make you happy in your life and spending time with them.  It's about getting the people who are draining you of energy off of your back and focusing instead on what is the right thing to do.  It's about being honest and being exactly who you are regardless of what others think of you.

"Lottery" by Patricia Wood made me smile and even more than that it made me realize that although I haven't won the lottery, I sure am lucky.

Ordinary riches can be stolen: real riches cannot - Oscar Wilde

* A huge thank you goes out to Patricia Wood for donating 2 signed copies of her book for our November 2015 Winning the Lottery writing contest

"In the Unlikely Event:" Fasten Your Seatbelts

I grew up on Judy Blume books.

I'm sure most women in their early 40s would make the same claim.  Judy Blume opened my eyes to the trials of adolescence from bullying, to menstruating, to having a bratty younger sibling, to masturbation, to wanting bigger breasts, to the turbulent world of first sexual relationships.  Underlying all of her books for me was honesty and realness.

She tells life like it is which is why her books have been the subject of countless bannings and calls for censorship from school libraries.  Seeing an elementary school girl with the book "Forever" tucked under her arm branded her a harlot, one to be watched by her teachers.

In her first adult book since 1998's "Summer Sisters" Blume draws from her childhood growing up in Elizabeth, New Jersey which was branded "Plane Crash City" in the winter of 1952 when three planes inexplicably crashed there in an 8 week span.  Blume was an 8th grader at Hamilton when these tragedies unfolded.  She returned to those tragedies to craft the fictional lives of a chorus of characters who all suffer in different ways due to the crashes.

At the center of this novel is Miri Ammerman, a 9th grade Jewish girl, whose single mom, Rusty, her Uncle Henry and her grandmother live together harmoniously until the planes begin to crash.  As she deals with her best friend's mental illness, her first heartbreaking love with orphan Mason, and her mother's first real boyfriend, as well as her father appearing in her life again, she also must deal with the betrayal of safety she feels when planes fall from the sky - not once, not twice, but three times in one winter.

She writes a poem about the crashes that she reads at a reunion years later: "Life goes on, as our parents promised that winter / Life goes on if you're one of the lucky ones / But we're still part of a secret club / One we'd never willingly join / With members who have nothing in common / except  time and a place / We'll always be connected by that winter / Anyone who tells you different is lying."

Miri's Uncle Henry writes about the crashes for the local paper and becomes a kind of local hero as does her boyfriend, Mason, who fearlessly pulls people from the 3rd crash and saved lives.

The power in this novel full of so many characters that at times I felt dizzy from the quick chapters and multitudes of perspectives, comes from Miri's and the other young characters who come of age in the early 1950s.  Even without planes falling out of the sky, adolescence can be hard, but with the added tragedies that many speculated were the work of communists or aliens, the looming pressures of adulthood seem insurmountable.

Blume's history as a life changing YA author shows when she delicately crafts the love story between Mason and Miri.  Their first dance together that didn't need conversation, their first gentle kiss, their heartbreaking conclusion and even their rediscovery of each other were written with sensitivity and love.  In the same way, Blume shows how the crashes unraveled Miri's best friend and her best friend's seemingly perfect family.  Everyone in this novel suffers the crashes in different ways - either as immediate victim or post traumatic casualties.  They are all connected.

For me "The Umbrella of Death" as the winter of 1952 in Elizabeth, New Jersey was referred to, took on larger significance.  It's the tragedies of life that often define us - how we heal from heartbreak, how we recover from illnesses both mental and physical, how we move on from the dissolution of our families or the loss of best friends or potential lovers.  It's that turbulence that Blume shows with heart and humility and what has made her such a phenomenon and such a defining part of the young adults' lives.  She knows how to give us a flight worth remembering - that we need to fasten our seat belts for, and that we need to wonder if there will be a safe landing or a horrible, tragic crash.  Regardless, we know that life will go on, even in the face of tragedy that no one should need to suffer through.

"Go Set a Watchman": The Darker Side of Maycomb, Alabama

I often wondered what happened to all my beloved characters in Maycomb, Alabama.  Who doesn't wonder about the lives of their favorite characters of all time? Because Harper Lee once said, "I wrote one good book and that was enough" I never believed I needed to know more about Scout's life, Jem's life, what happened to Boo, Atticus, Uncle Jack, Aunt Alex, Calpurnia and the rest of the characters of Maycomb.  "To Kill A Mockingbird" with all it's amazingness would do it for me.  I didn't need a trilogy, a movie sequel, nor did I need anything wrapped up in a tidy little bow.  I liked the unresolved ending and didn't need more.  

When Harper Collins announced that they were releasing "Go Set a Watchman" by Harper Lee, my jaw dropped.  I shook my head and emphatically told my husband, "There must be some mistake. Harper Lee didn't want to write another book" as if I knew her and could attest to her feelings on the matter.  Controversy surrounded the release of this book.  Did Lee really sign off on this deal or was it a money grab by the publishers? Was it released only because Lee's sister Alice died and her lawyer Tonja B. Carter took over her estate and just "happened upon" the manuscript that was actually written before "To Kill A Mockingbird"? If she wanted to publish this book, why did Harper Lee wait so long to do so? Did Carter take advantage of an elderly woman and resurrect an unfinished novel just to make money? 

I may never know the answers to all these questions surrounding the release of Harper Lee's second novel "Go Set a Watchman" but I decided to read it anyway even though I read early reviews that said Atticus was a racist in it.  Just the thought of that made me want to cover my ears and say "La la la, I am not listening to you" until everyone came to their senses and explained that he only appears to be racist in one part of the book, but shows his true nature as the book progresses.  I mean how could Atticus, my favorite literary hero of all time change so drastically as a 70 year old man? Surely he must have the same moral code and conduct that he had as a 50 year old champion of equal rights? 

The novel tells the story of Scout's (who now goes by Jean Louise) return to Maycomb 20 years after the close of "To Kill A Mockingbird." She's a 26 year old liberal New Yorker who still loves her hometown even if some of the people there are narrow minded.  She's in love with her father's right hand man, Hank, who is one of her oldest and dearest friends, and she still sees her father as the most amazing human being in the world.  The Maycomb in this novel is similar and different from the 1930s depression era Maycomb, but darker in a way because it is no longer told from the perspective of an idealistic, intelligent child whose father is infallible in his life lessons.  In the 1950s civil unrest, Maycomb fights a different battle than the ghosts that lurk in dark, mysterious houses, it fights the ever present NAACP and traveling racists who spout hate against a potential black uprising or the (gasp) mixing of the races.  In this Maycomb, even Atticus wants the races kept separate.  He, unlike Scout, is not colorblind. 

In many ways Jean Louise still retains the tomboyishness and the idealism of her days as Scout.  She doesn't shy away from confrontation with Aunt Alex (Alex is even more blustery in this novel), nor does she escape the expected traditions of having to do a Coffee session with the local ladies who can't seem to understand why on earth anyone would ever want to live in New York City with all the "Negroes" everywhere.  

Amid the rambling chapters in this novel, the real story is Jean Louise's separation from Atticus.  She becomes her own person by seeing Atticus as a flawed human being after witnessing him at a town council meeting about the preservation of the white way of life.  Uncle Jack takes on a bigger role in this novel and in almost preacher like fashion, he dominates the end of the book telling Scout "you confused your father with God.  You never saw him as a man with a man's heart, and a man's failings . . . You were an emotional cripple, leaning on him, getting the answers from him, assuming that your answers would always be his answers." 

There are big flaws in the writing.  Yes, this is Harper Lee, so there are more than a few moments of brilliance, but the narration lacks the vibrancy of "To Kill A Mockingbird" because it is told in 3rd person (and sometimes trails into an awkward 1st person).  The dialogue in some chapters is more like sermons and speeches, and there seems to be unfinished holes all over the place.  

I couldn't love this novel like I love "To Kill A Mockingbird" but it's still a noteworthy novel.  The chapters that flashback to Scout's early dates with Hank were my favorite (especially the part about her falsies), and The Coffee conversations were entertaining as well.  This novel, to me, still felt unfinished.  It contains the seeds of the more innocent "To Kill A Mockingbird" and because this was written first, this might be the draft that Lee never really wanted anyone to read or see - the dark side of all the characters, or maybe what the characters were like before she shaped them into what they became.  To me, this is an unfinished sculpture which has it's own merits, but can't really be compared to what "To Kill A Mockingbird" is.

Regardless of the shortcomings, I'm glad I read it.  I'm glad I got to see a different side of Maycomb, a different side of the South in the 1950s.  It shed light on other issues for me that I need to research and I will most likely read this book again when I am ready to venture back into Maycomb.  I just have a feeling I will reread "To Kill a Mockingbird" first. 

"The Art of Racing in the Rain": Human Philosophy From a Dog's Perspective

If you have ever looked at your dog and thought, I know he totally understands exactly what we are talking about, but you've never been able to prove it, Garth Stein's warm and moving book "The Art of Racing in the Rain" will confirm your suspicions.  It will also make you love your dog a little bit more, possibly want to watch race car driving even if you've never enjoyed it, make you ponder how to live life, and it will probably make you cry.

I had my doubts about this book.  Really? A novel narrated by a wise dog named Enzo who has the heart of a racer and the mind of a philosopher just didn't seem like the sort of the thing that I wanted to read. BUT I am so glad that I did.  I will most likely recommend this book to every friend of mine who isn't mourning the death of a pet or the loss of a loved one because it is a truly beautiful book.

Enzo isn't just lovable, but he's also believable as a narrator.  At the beginning of the book, Enzo is at the end of his life and he contemplates this in a philosophical way.  Having watched educational shows on t.v. while Denny and his family were at work and school, he learned that in Mongolia they believe that dogs who are ready come back as humans when they die.  Enzo is ready.  The rest of the book is his reflection on his life with Denny Swift, his "flawed hero" master who is an aspiring race car driver, Eve, the "interloper" who becomes Denny's wife and who falls very ill (which Enzo is aware of even before she is), and their daughter Zoe who becomes a pawn in an ugly custody battle between Denny and Eve's parents (Enzo calls them the evil twins).

The sometimes melodramatic plot of the pitfalls and hardships in life that Denny faces, and Enzo's inability to articulate completely his feelings to his owner, Eve and Zoe is tempered by the extended metaphors of racing and life.  Enzo is a keen narrator because he listens and pays attention in only a way that a dog can.  He understands the subtleties of communication because he is limited by not being able to speak. While reflecting on watching racing tapes with Denny, Enzo really internalizes the idea that in racing and life "that which we manifest is before us; we are the creators of our own destiny.  Be it through intention or ignorance, our successes and our failures have been brought on by none other than ourselves." We can't blame the other drivers in the race of life, or the road conditions. We are the ones who create where we go and how we get there by each decision we make.  "The car goes where our eyes go."

I finished this book very quickly, and I looked at my dog, Loki differently after I was done.  How much does he know and understand? People will never know, but just in case, I talk to him even more now to keep him in the loop of our lives.  He's an old guy now, and maybe he's ready to come back as a human in his next life.

And yes, you most likely will cry at the end.  It's hard not to when you fall in love with a dog who has lived a good life and it's their time to go.  I don't know many people that don't get sad when an animal dies in a movie even if people are dying left and right. During the scene that shows the good old dog die, the tears start to really flow.  It's something about the innocence of a dog, the loyalty, the blind faith and companionship that they offer that chokes you up when they die.

Regardless of the tears, you will be happy that you read the story that will soon be made into a movie starring Patrick Dempsey as Denny.  I don't know how the movie makers will do justice to Enzo, but maybe they'll pay attention to him as much as he paid attention in his life to assist his family through some of their toughest challenges.  The road of life is never without its accidents and set backs, but when you have a good, loyal companion to help navigate the rocky emotional terrain, it certainly helps.

"Reconstructing Amelia": Mean girls on steroids

It's not often after I read a book that I look at my daughters ages 10 and 5 and fear for their future.  I hugged them tightly after I read "Reconstructing Amelia" by Kimberly McCreight, and told them very seriously, "I'm here for you no matter what happens in your lives.  Know that you can always count on me to listen and be here for you." Who knows what they will encounter by the time they are each 15 years old like the main character Amelia in McCreight's suspenseful debut novel.

Like so many of the other books I have posted about lately, this book also was compared to "Gone Girl" which is a silly comparison since the subject material is so much different.  "Reconstructing Amelia" focuses on the dark world of secret clubs at Grace Hall, a prestigious private school in Brooklyn and "Gone Girl" isn't really about that at all.   Maybe the comparisons come from the suspense, the unraveling of the mystery, and the dual narrations, but that is really where the comparisons should end.

The suspense forces the reader to turn page after page as each secret unfolds.  After Kate receives a phone call from Grace Hall's dean of students , informing her that her daughter had been suspended for plagiarizing a paper and that she had to pick her up NOW,  Kate freaks a bit and is puzzled. How could her over-achieving, introverted daughter ever be in trouble? Once Kate rearranges her high powered attorney schedule for the day, she arrives to get her daughter over an hour late only to discover emergency vehicles at the school.  She finds out, to her horror, that her beloved only child Amelia is dead from a supposed suicide. Kate doesn't believe that Amelia would ever jump off of the roof of Grace Hall, but her grief keeps her from questioning.  It's not until she receives an anonymous text that reads "Amelia didn't jump" that Kate decides to delve deeper into what really happened to her daughter.  What she discovers shatters her image of Amelia's social life, and makes her question herself as a mother. The suspense of the narration as Kate probes deeper into her daughter's recent history and the secret club she joined is startling.  Can girls really be this mean? Do clubs like this exist? Would a school really be this negligent in helping the girls who are bullied?

Yes, just like in "Gone Girl" there are multiple narrators in this book.  There are also parts of the book which are told through emails, blog posts, and text messages.  Although that seems a bit cliche given the fact that many YA authors have worn out the multi-genre format for a book, it works here.  What gave me a little bit of pause was Kate's character.  Amelia's narration reveals her to be mostly an innocent who was left alone often and made choices based on the moment because her support system (her mostly absent but loving mother and her completely self-centered, and acidic best friend, Sylvia) were non-existent.  Kate, on the other hand, comes off a bit clumsy especially for a high powered attorney.

Yes, there is a mystery surrounding the death of a main character which reveals horrible secrets.  I loved the suspense of the book until close to the end when the truths start tumbling out all over the place.  At that point it was hard for me to believe and maybe I just didn't like what really happened or the too tidy wrap up of all the events.  The girls were just sooooooooo mean and unfeeling, and their parents were just as callous.  On top of that, the improbability that a bereft mom would be able to have such a huge part in the investigation of her daughter's death AND never really run into huge road blocks during the unveiling of the truth was far fetched.

Regardless of the few flaws of the book, I devoured it and know that anyone who is looking for a quick, stimulating summer (or anytime) read will love the edginess of "Reconstructing Amelia." If anything, it will make you ask your kids what they are REALLY up to in school and in their private lives, maybe even check their text messages and Facebook pages.  If your kids are too young for all the stuff that clutters our lives and seemingly takes over the lives of our teenagers, just give your kids a good big hug and tell them that you love them, and maybe ask them to stay kids for as long as possible.

"The Art of Hearing Heartbeats": A Magical Love Story

Two very distinct parts of me loved Jan-Philipp Sendker's International Best Seller "The Art of Hearing Heartbeats." The first part is my hopeless romantic side - the side of me that persuaded me to marry my high school sweetheart.  The other part is the part that seeks to understand myself and my place in this world based on my heritage and the lives of those who came before me.  These two parts - the heart and the head, collide in Sendker's magical book that takes the reader on a journey into a small mountain village of Kalaw as Julia seeks to understand why her father mysteriously disappeared.

When Julia's mother finds an unsent love letter from her husband to a woman named Mi Mi from Burma four years after his strange disappearance, she gives Julia that letter and tells her if she wants to find out what happened to her father she doesn't want to know what she finds.  She says, "When you get back I won't ask you a thing, and I don't want you to tell me anything, either.  Whatever you find there, it's no longer of any interest to me." Her mother reasons that long before her husband disappeared he had already left if he was even really with her ever.

Despite her mother's own indifference, and her own anxiety over what she might find out about her father, Julia boards a plane and takes the long trip to Burma to the small impoverished mountain village of Kalaw. In her first hours there, she encounters a man named U Ba in a tea house who not only seems to be expecting her, but wants to tell her the story of her father's childhood.  He tells her "I will explain everything in due course, but let me first ask you my question: Do you believe in love?"

Julia at first is incredulous to this overzealous storyteller who weaves a tale of a man who she cannot recognize as the man she called father, but she returns daily to hear more.  Late at night in her hotel bed,  Julia starts to question "What do we know about our parents, and what do they know about us? And if we don't even know the individuals who have accompanied us since birth - we not them and they not us - then what do we know about anyone at all?" It's a powerful line of questioning, and one that many people struggle with as they start to see their parents as people with pasts that are separate from their time raising children.

The true power of this story, though, comes from the touching love story between Tin Win and Mi Mi - the young blind boy who finds strength and companionship from a beautiful little girl who was born with deformed ankles and is unable to walk without assistance.  Together Tin Win and Mi Mi gain almost supernatural powers - Mi Mi's voice is so beautiful and magical that she can cure people of ailments and Tin Win can hear the heartbeats of people and animals.  Their love transcends any type of disability or hardship and has the power to overcome the trials of life and time.

Although this book is a translation (translated by Kevin Wiliarty) and at times feels like it's lacking in the poetic language that it deserves, the story is beautiful enough to carry the reader on the journey to understand how the past influences the present (just like Tin Win carried Mi Mi without any type of struggle).

I didn't openly sob with this book like I do when I read Khaled Hosseini's books, but I felt like Sendker, just like Hosseini transported me to another country and showed me another side to life and culture that I never knew with a touch of melancholy and emotional nostalgia.  The ability to tell a beautiful love story that doesn't feel trite or cliche is a gift and Tin Win and Mi Mi's story will stay with me for a very long time, as will Julia's brave journey to seek the truth about her father. This book speaks to both of the head and the heart, and to me that's what all good stories should do.

"The Silent Wife": A terrifying and realistic portrait of a relationship gone awry

I was beginning to think that maybe I am adverse to thrillers - especially dark ones about domestic issues that end in very unsettling ways.  Although everyone I know LOVED "Gone Girl" and "The Girl on the Train," I found both of them okay at first, but stopped enjoying them about half way through the book.  What was missing for me in both of those books was a likable character.  They were page turners, though, and many people seem to judge books by how quickly they want to finish them.  I, on the other hand, judge books by how I would like them to never end (like "All the Light You Cannot See" . . . I would have been happy if Anthony Doerr tacked on another 200 pages to that book).

So, what was it about "The Silent Wife" by A.S.A. Harrison that intrigued me enough to say that I enjoyed it way better than either "Gone Girl" or "The Girl on the Train" when it hasn't received as much attention from the press or from readers?  For me the methodical, terse narrative about Jodi Brett and Todd Gilbert, a very antiseptic couple who are more quiet roommates who tolerate the others' faults to stick to a routine, felt way more plausible than the over the top follies of the characters in other thrillers that I have read.  On the first page, the narrative tells us that her marriage to Todd "is approaching the final stage of disintegration, that [Jodi's] notions about who she is and how she ought to conduct herself are far less stable than she supposes, given that a few short months are all it will take to make a killer out of her." This sets up the insidious tale of how Jodi becomes a killer.

In the every other chapter set up (one chapter is titled "Her" and the next is titled "Him", and it flip flops like that throughout the novel), we find out that Jodi never wanted to get married, but after 20 years together, she and Todd, at least in her mind, are married.  She allows him his infidelities knowing that he always finds his way back to her.  She spends her days counseling a few select clients, walking her dog, making gourmet meals and taking the occasional floral arranging class.  Her life seems cold, calculated and very controlled just like their beautiful streamlined, clutter free lake view apartment in Chicago.

Todd, on the other hand, is a self made successful real estate flipper.  He takes the edge off of his stressful job by having a daily joint, and one woman or another on the side. Although his little flings never seem to amount to much, he strays too far from Jodi after his young girlfriend (the daughter of his best friend) tells him that she's pregnant.  She's young and makes Todd feel alive after a crippling bout of depression.  Although he loves Jodi, she doesn't make him feel vibrant in his mid-40s the way his girlfriend, Natasha does.  The only problem, though, is that he doesn't know how to break it to Jodi that when he leaves her she quite literally will lose everything that they built together in the past 20 years since they are not legally married.  He also isn't prepared for the backlash from his best friend.

Maybe what I liked so much about this book was the psychological aspect.  Although I didn't love the flashbacks (written like a movie script) with Jodi's therapist Gerard, I did love the deep psychological exploration of what made Jodi tick. The other aspect of the book was the probability of it.  Relationships sometimes reach a tipping point even as both people involved are aware of the issues because no one wants to disturb the routine.  Sometimes it's the silence in a marriage that ends it, or the lack of passion, or dishonesty. Both characters in Harrison's book are smart, too smart really for what happens to them.  The writing is smart as well, and it's a pity that this debut novel from A.S.A. Harrison was her last novel since she died shortly before the release of "The Silent Wife."

If you liked "Gone Girl" or "The Girl on the Train" most likely you will like "The Silent Wife" as well.  If you are like me, though, maybe you'll like it even if you didn't enjoy the other two more popular, sinister books about dysfunctional marriages that end in tragic and unexpected ways.

"The Martian": A wild ride with an American hero through the red planet

"So that's the situation. I'm stranded on Mars.  I have no way to communicate with Hermes or Earth.  Everyone thinks I'm dead.  I'm in a Hab designed to last thirty-one days. If the oxygenator breaks down, I'll suffocate. If the water reclaimer breaks down, I'll die of thirst.  If the Hab breaches, I'll just kind of explode.  If none of those things happen, I'll eventually run out of food and starve to death.  So yeah, I'm f'd."

Six days prior to Mark Watney's break down of his predicament on Mars, he was one of the first people ever to walk on the surface of the red planet, but now it looks like he'll be the first person to ever die there unless he figures out a way to survive . . . for 4 years when the return mission to Mars can rescue him.

It's not the best situation, but somehow Mark Watney who was left behind by his fellow crew mates after a freak wind storm threatened to kill all of them, finds a way to not let his Martian dilemma deter him from using his engineering skills, botany expertise and his witty sense of humor to help him survive even the most dire of circumstances that arise in his fight for survival.

In the same strain as movies like "Castaway" or "Gravity," the readers of Andy Weir's NYTimes Best Seller "The Martian"roots for Mark's survival.  He's alone.  He's in a place with no other human beings.  His likelihood of getting out alive is REALLY LOW.  Unlike either of these movies, though, the weakness (maybe the strength for some readers) is the tendency for Weir, a self proclaimed "space nerd," to veer too much in the technicalities and science behind each of the emergency situations that arise.  When Mark decides to harvest potatoes to keep himself alive, the reader gets a lesson in farming, soil production, fertilizer needs (Mark uses his own human waste), how to create water, and how to even split the potatoes.  For some readers, they might love the pages and pages of mathematical equations, the space / science technical problem solving, and the hypothesizing about potential hazards that will arise.  For me, I wanted more of the life and death dilemmas that Mark was facing to surface in a more philosophic and psychological ways, and I never really got that.  Mark simply seemed to crack more jokes as NASA and his own unflappable ingenuity helped him to survive day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year.

My husband read this book on our vacation and urged me to read it.  I am not a Sci-Fi / Fantasy lover, and usually tend to steer away from books that my husband loves, but hearing him laugh out loud and basically eat this book like a bowl full of dark chocolate almonds made me reconsider.  I need to get out of my reading comfort zone of murky memoirs, epic historical fictions and my favorite, books about dysfunctional families.  This space thriller did make me turn the pages quickly (except the overly technical parts which thankfully dissipated as Mark's journey lasted longer and longer), and I did actually laugh out loud in two different parts of the book.  I found myself criticizing the writing style (the word "nerd" is used quite a bit and let's face it, Weir is more of a space nerd than a writer), and I thought that a few of the characters were heavy handed stereotypes with really badly written dialogue.

Overall, though, I loved that Mark survived by watching "Three's Company" reruns.  I learned about space travel - especially about travel to and on Mars, and I had a renewed sense of the spirit of the American "survival at all costs" and innovation that Watney represents.  What he does to survive is truly amazing, and it will have you questioning your own problem solving capabilities.  It may even make you consider the question, "If you were left behind in space and no one could rescue you for four years, what comfort items would you want with you to help pass the time and help you with morale?"

This book will surely become a blockbuster movie.  It will surely sell millions of copies.  It will surely make Andy Weir a well known author, and people will surely enjoy it.  I'm glad that my husband from time to time can pull me out of my reading ruts and introduce me to new stories that teach me something new. "The Martian" taught me that staying calm and laughing in the face of even the most improbable dilemmas is better than panicking, and it provided me with a hero worth cheering for.

"I'll Be Seeing You": Letters, Love, and Loss

My friend Rose told me that her experience reading "I'll Be Seeing You" by Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan (who never actually met each other while writing this book) was like finding a box of letters in her grandmother's attic and reading them with a cup of tea in hand - learning about the past and being privy to secrets and the stories shared from a friendship forged by longing. 

"I'll be Seeing You" follows the 1943-1945 correspondence between Rita Vincenzo, a sensible woman from Iowa whose husband and son are both away serving in WWII, and Glory Whitehall, a wealthy young mother from  Massachusetts whose husband is also in the war. Their letter writing begins after a 4-H meeting urged  women who were waiting for their loved ones to return from the war to find comfort in other women who could understand their circumstances.  The women develop a strong friendship as they share their respective stories of their families, and how they try to pass the days as they wait for life to return to a new sense of normal.  Their worry over their loved ones, their fear of receiving the dreaded death telegram, their daily joys and sorrows bond them together and help each of them overcome bouts of despair and depression as the war continues.  

Glory writes about the birth of a baby girl, parenting a rambunctious toddler (who contracts an illness that leaves him a shell of his former self), and mostly with the intensity of her relationship with her husband's (and her) best friend, Levi who was asked to "look after" Glory in her husband's absence.  Rita writes about her loneliness, her wicked neighbor, her son's secret girlfriend, and her best friend's relationship with a handsome stranger with a shady past.  Each of their stories bring them closer together and gives them a sense of comfort that there is someone sharing their pain and joy.  Along with the more personal stories they share, Rita also gives Glory gardening advice for her victory garden to grow in her seaside climate and they each share war time recipes like Tomato Soup Cake and Mock Veal Cutlets.  

What this book did for me was show me a very personal side of WWII that is often forgotten - what the women did while they waited.  1943 differed greatly from our modern day society where many women work outside of the home and enjoy choices that women in the 1940s could never dream of.  The women then relied on their men, but in their men's absence what many of the women learned is that they are strong beyond measure - especially when they could help each other.  In one letter Glory adds, "P.S. I love being a woman.  A woman among amazing women.  Women who understand just how much we need one another." 

It's true.  

The power of women's friendships and connections through tragedy and triumph is a beautiful thing.  Women connect in different ways then men connect - ask any woman who has a life long friend about their soul connection with that woman.  Ask any woman about the special women in her life and how important those bonds are for her - the talks, the sharing, the nights out spilling their hearts to each other over bottles of wine or meeting for coffee just to connect face to face and share in each others' company.  

This book made me want to connect with all my best friends.  It made me want to sit down and write good old fashioned letters (not Facebook messages or text messages, but real in depth letter writing).  Our best friends are the ones who make us feel connected to something larger than ourselves, who tell us the truth even when we don't want to hear it, who bring us back from the brink of destroying ourselves, and who help us make sense out of the world even when nothing makes sense. They are our truest allies in wartime and in peacetime. 

'The Girl You Left Behind': Jojo Moyes Knows How to Play Me Like a Fiddle

After a hefty book like "All the Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr, I thought I would reward myself with a light Jojo Moyes book, so when I saw "The Girl You Left Behind" actually on the library shelf (Jojo Moyes books are perpetually checked out), I did a happy dance right in the M aisle.     What I didn't realize was that the story line in "The Girl You Left Behind" revolves around WWI and art reparations due to German soldiers' fine arts confiscations during WWI and WWII.  Another war time book wasn't really what I wanted, but Moyes knows totally how to play with my heart and make me plow through her fiction.  Although her writing isn't anything like Doerr's lyrical writing that feels more like poetry than prose, Moyes gives a straightforward narrative of two strong female characters, Sophie Lefevre (from the WWI storyline), and Liv Halston (from the current day storyline).

I was instantly captivated by the 1916, small town, France storyline centered around Sophie Lefevre and her passionate artist husband. Eduoard intoxicates her with his bear-like, rowdy presence and asks to paint her.  After a failed attempt to truly capture her on the canvas, she returns to his studio determined to sit for him.  The result is a stunning painting which shows the inner light of Sophie - erotic, honest, and absolutely beautiful.  They also end up falling deeply in love and getting married.

When Eduoard is sent to the front line of WWI, Sophie and her sister are forced to entertain German soldiers after their small French time is occupied, and the German Kommandant becomes obsessed with both the painting and with Sophie.  Sophie uses his affections to her advantage to help others in her town, and even further to try and reunite with her husband.

In the midst of Sophie's treacherous wartime story, Moyes introduces the modern day storyline of Liv Halston, a recent young widow whose husband acquired Sophie's painting while helping a woman on their honeymoon.  Her brilliant architect husband's death has left Liv devastated, lonely and lifeless and her only happiness seems to come from her painting of Sophie.  When she meets the handsome and overly helpful, ex-police officer, Paul McCafferty, it seems as if she can love again until she finds out that Paul is an art recovery officer who is actually seeking to return Sophie's painting with members of the Lefevre family who know it's worth a fortune.

Even though I loved the piecing together of the entire history of the painting (much like the storyline in the book "The Girl in Hyacinth Blue"), I must admit that I wasn't as captivated with the Liv Halston storyline as I was with Sophie's.  There were times where I actually rolled my eyes at Liv and her tirades about her beloved painting.  When she started to push Paul away, I am pretty sure my eye rolling increased, BUT . . . JoJo Moyes brought me back into her emotional tug of war by the end of the book where I most definitely cried as both story lines wrapped up - both with trials (Sophie's didn't take place in the courtroom like Liv's) for their female protagonists.  I cheered, openly wept and read with rigorous speed to see how everything turned out.

Moyes knows how to play with her readers, and just like her books "One Plus One" and "Me Before You", the emotional upheaval will leave you a bit breathless and wanting another helping of her writing after you read the last page.  Be forewarned.  You will get addicted to JoJo Moyes; her books are too good not to, though, so just enjoy being played like a fiddle.

"The Children Act": Why have I never read Ian McEwan until now?

It's been awhile since I've read a book that led me to openly debate with my husband in the evenings. I'm embarrassed to admit as an avid book enthusiast that I've never read a book by Ian McEwan before this one which I am pretty sure was on every single "Best Books of 2014" list.  I saw the movie "Atonement," but seeing a movie and reading an author's style do not correlate.  At first I was a bit put off by the stuffy, pretentious quality of the writing (it read more like a movie script to me than a novel), but that quickly dissipated as I worked my way into the daily dilemmas that high court Judge Fiona Maye faced and in particular the case of Andrew, a 17 year old Jehovah's Witness suffering from leukemia whose family refused to give him a blood transfusion based on religious reasons.

In the lead up to this court case, the reader learns that Fiona, age 59, is a judge of impeccable reasoning skills.  She is highly respected in her field and the court cases that she faces - from conjoined twins who must be separated in order to save the life of one even if the devoutly Catholic parents don't want to go against God's will, and divorce settlements involving Jewish parents, often relate in some way to religion.  With each case she hears, she uses sound reason and logic to decide what is best for each child involved using The Children Act (1989) as her guide: "When a court determines any question with respect to . . . the upbringing of a child . . . the child’s welfare shall be the court’s paramount consideration.” - SECTION I (A).  

The backdrop of her reason and logic filled days in court is her emotional and personal distress at home as her husband, Jack, seeks her approval to have an affair with a much younger woman.  Fiona is both disgusted and horrified with Jack's request even if he chooses to blame her for his need to stray citing her emotional and physical distance as the main reasons he wants to have a heated love affair with someone else. Their icy relationship drips with tension and betrayal.  Both sides are hurting; in the case of love, logic and reason often don't count.

But the law will not wait for personal problems at home. Andrew's case must be decided almost immediately due to the severity of his cancer and the necessity for a blood transfusion.  In order to get a clearer understanding of his physical condition and his personal wishes, Fiona visits him in the hospital to understand why he and his family are refusing treatment. After this visit, Fiona comes to the conclusion that Andrew's welfare is not the paramount consideration of his family and his church and overrules their denial of the transfusion, forcing Andrew to receive a life saving treatment.

What happens from here both startled and confused me, but the delicacy of the situations presented in the book made me think long after I closed the cover in the evenings, and stayed with me after I finished the book.  I brought up the dilemmas to my husband over dinner and was surprised by his answers. So many questions are presented in this book: Whose fault is the loss of love? Who gets to ultimately make the decision about the welfare of a child? An adult? A relationship? What happens when we are unable to act in the best welfare of a child or ourselves? What role does religion play in our lives? What ultimately gives our lives meaning?

These are big questions and even if the critics agree that this book doesn't fit in the realm of most of McEwan's books, much exists in it's short length that can pose huge life questions without easy answers which make it an excellent selection for a book club (at least a book club that talks about the books they choose).  As a McEwan virgin, I was impressed with his ability to humanize, criticize and stay neutral all at once.  Even with the seeming pretentiousness of the language at first, this book is worth the read, worth the debate, and worth the title of one of the best books of 2014.

"One Plus One" and "Me Before You": Entertaining, Romantic, and Endearing

Once again the Crystal Lake Public Library's "Hot Picks" section came through for me.  I discovered a new author, Jojo Moyes, and spent the last 4 days binge reading two of her latest books, "One Plus One" and "Me Before You." I had never heard of her before, but she shot up the U.K. bestseller charts with "Me Before You." Her most recent book, "One Plus One" came in at a respectable #11 on the bestseller charts with its release in July of this year.

What makes Jojo Moyes' books so irresistible stems from their "pretty woman-esque" vibe.  No, the main female characters in these two books are not prostitutes.  They are women of substance who are somewhat down on their luck. In both books the main female character meets a wealthy older man who is having a difficult time of it.  Romance ensues, problems with the romance arise, and some things are solved while others remain unsolvable.  I am oversimplifying the plot of both books, but in "Me Before You" when Will Traynor took Lou to the classical concert and she wore a fetching red dress and got tears in her eyes as soon as the music started, I was reminded of Julia Roberts and her tearful visit to the opera with Richard Gere at her side watching for her reaction.

Most of the similarities stop there, but just like "Pretty Woman" these books are genuinely likable with memorable characters and smart writing.

In "One Plus One" the main character, Jess struggles to make enough money for her and her two kids, Tanzie (who is a 10 year old math whiz who has terrible eyesight and loves sparkly clothing) and Nicky (her bullied, goth step-son) and their flatulent old dog, Norman.  When Tanzie gets a 90% scholarship to a private school because of her impressive math prowess, Jess finds a math competition that will help to cover the 10% tuition that she owes.  The only problem is the competition is in Scotland and with no way to really get there, it looks like the competition and the probable winnings are a lost cause.  But an unlikely hero, Ed Nicholls, who unbeknownst to Jess (who is his housekeeper) is also fighting a lost cause because of unintentional insider trading, helps the family to take the road trip to the math competition.

So much happens on this road trip and even after the road trip that to give any of it away would be too much of a spoiler.  Just know that if you haven't found a good chick lit book with substance lately, read this one.  You'll love it.

I read "Me Before You" after quickly devouring "One Plus One" and although the tale is a bit more murky (and will most likely be made into a movie since I could picture every scene on the big screen), I laughed, cried, and cheered my way through this book just as quickly as "One Plus One." The storyline of "Me Before You" follows the plight of Louisa (Lou) Clark who lacks ambition and scrambles to find employment after her beloved cafe job ends abruptly.  Although she lacks qualifications of any kind, she lands a temporary contract helping wealthy ex-businessman, Will Traynor, who suffered a severe accident leaving him a very angry quadriplegic. Will's mother hires Jess due to Jess's fire and spirit and her ability to be chatty in uncomfortable situations.  The situation with Will is depressing and Jess almost quits until she and her sister concoct a terrific "anti-bucket list" idea.  To give any more away would ruin this book as well, so just read it.

If you need two good books to dive into for the fall, I highly recommend becoming addicted to author Jojo Moyes and her entertaining, romantic and endearing stories. 

You won't regret it. 

"The Rosie Project": Rom Com At Its Finest

I needed a fun book.  When my daughter's 4th grade teacher mentioned that her favorite book of the summer was "The Rosie Project" by Graeme Simsion because it was "great fun," I made a mental note. I can't read every book that people suggest, but I am always looking to expand my reading horizons.  In the case of Australian author Graeme Simsion's highly publicized debut novel, I am so glad I listened to my daughter's teacher.  It was, as she touted, great fun.

The novel revolves around Don Tillman,  a socially inept genetics professor who decides after living alone for too long, that it is time to find a wife. He launches a full scale "Wife Project" which includes a detailed 16 page survey to locate a potential mate.  Don designs the survey questions to weed out smokers, drinkers and pretty much anyone who has any type of human characteristic that is unsuitable to him.  In the midst of his Wife Project, Don meets Rosie, a smoking, vegetarian with bright red hair who is anything but conventional.  She cusses openly, is free with her emotions and makes no excuses for her actions.  Although Don immediately deems her an unsuitable wife, he becomes intrigued with her search for her biological father, and begins an unethical genetics project ("The Father Project") to help Rosie find her father.  While searching for Rosie's father, Don begins to break out of his daily routines and begins to feel rather than think his way through life.  Inevitably (as the title points out) his focus becomes "The Rosie Project" or how to get this woman to fall in love with him.  He doubts the logic of falling in love with Rosie "I want to spend my life with you even though it’s totally irrational. And you have short earlobes. Socially and genetically there’s no reason for me to be attracted to you. The only logical conclusion is that I must be in love with you." As Don realizes (and everyone else who has ever been in love has realized), logic and love do not coincide.  

Throughout the book, I could picture the movie that this will soon become (since Sony Pictures bought the movie rights) and could see myself on a Saturday evening watching it - laughing and crying, enjoying the romantic comedy that holds up a mirror to the follies of love and the inconsistencies of life.  That's what Simsion does brilliantly in this novel.  By choosing a male love interest who has Asperger's Syndrome (but somehow doesn't know it) and can't connect to people emotionally, he is able to show how incredibly illogical dating and love are, but we are also privy to seeing the downsides of a life full of only logical thinking.  Life and happiness meet somewhere in the middle.  

This book, though, is not one that anyone will need to dwell on or think about too much.  It is pure fun even with Don's smarmy best friend, Gene's ethical fidelity issues thrown into the mix. The lightheartedness outweighs any of the gloom in Don's lonely life or Rosie's messed up childhood, or Gene and Claudia's marriage arrangement that makes sense to no one except Gene.  If you haven't read a fun book lately, pick up "The Rosie Project" and prepare to be charmed. 

"The Signature of All Things:" Ambitious, Expansive, and Intelligent

I'm a book gusher.  I always have been.  When I love a book, I want to gush about it to whoever will listen (which is why I enjoy book blogging so much).  One of my favorite parts of being an English teacher was when I gushed about books I loved.  My classroom bookshelf took up an entire wall, so anytime I could recommend books to my students, I would need to stop myself from rambling too much and gushing at an uncontrollable rate.

When I meet another book gusher, I love to hear about their book passions.  The books they can't put down.  The books that make them want to shut out the rest of the world until they finish every last page.

My friend, Kris, is a book gusher.  Maybe she doesn't gush about every book, but when I recently visited  Pennsylvania, she told me that she was in the midst of a relationship with Elizabeth Gilbert's "The Signature of All Things," so her time was limited.  She didn't want it to end, and she said, "Alma is so strong, so very strong."  I asked her if I could borrow it after she finished, and she happily agreed to let me borrow her book.

The last week of my life I've been consumed with the lives of the Whittaker family and their torrid and fascinating history.  The book begins with Henry Whittaker, a poor but very clever boy, who ends up making a fortune by stealing plants and selling them.  When the owner of the plants, Sir Joseph Banks, discovers the thefts, he sends Henry (basically to banish him) around the world on voyages with the formidable Captain Cook to study botany.   Henry becomes an astute botanist, and learns to survive, listen, and practice abstinence while all the other sailors fall prey to indulgences.

Upon his return from voyage after voyage, Henry forges his own fortune and moves to Philadelphia with his equally strong willed wife, Beatrice.  After many miscarriages, they finally have a girl, Alma, who not only survives, but thrives and can hold her own in arguments and discussions with world travelers and astute philosophers at her father's always entertaining dinner table.

Although the beginning of the book revolves around Henry, Alma becomes the center of the rambling plot as she consumes books about botany and revels in all pursuits of the mind.  She learns to live with her adopted (and much more beautiful) sister, Prudence, and even finds friendship with a flighty and ridiculous girl named Retta Snow.  Alma's academic pursuits always take precedence over her pursuits of the heart as she navigates her love for George Hawkes, a fellow scholar who loves Alma for her ideas but does not see her as a romantic interest.  When Ambrose Pike, an angelic traveler who has spent his life drawing the intricacies of orchids arrives at Alma's home, White Acre, the story line diverts in odd and illuminating directions and the truth of the title, "The Signature of All Things" is revealed "namely that God had hidden clues for humanity's betterment inside the design of every flower, leaf, fruit, and tree on earth.  All the natural world was a divine code."

The remaining half of the book follows Alma through her middle ages and her own renaissance of spirit and understanding of herself and her world.  Her studies of mosses and her unique strength and wisdom make her a heroine to be loved and cherished, a warrior to be feared, and a humble innocent who the readers can sympathize with in her darkest moments.  We feel her grief.  We see her strength.  We celebrate her triumphs.  When Alma realizes that she wants to live rather than drown and sees clearly "that the world was plainly divided into those who fought an unrelenting battle to live, and those who surrendered and died" I wanted to stand on my chair and shout to celebrate her existence and her strength to live and fight.

The scope of the book revolves around evolutionary theory and the survival of the fittest - not the most beautiful or the most desirable or the most sensitive.  As Alma discovers in her feverish exploration of mosses and the interconnectedness of the world (which she calls "A theory of competitive alteration"), "the trick at every turn was to endure the test of living for as long as possible.  The odds of survival were punishingly slim, for the world was naught but a school of calamity and an endless burning furnace of tribulation.  But those who survived the world shaped it - even as the world, simultaneously, shaped them."

Each page in Gilbert's sweeping epic novel sings with intelligence and original freshness.  I loved watching Alma's self and world discovery from her baffled thoughts on her beautiful, China doll-esque sister, Prudence, to her befuddlement over relationships.  I loved her interactions with her fiery, titan father, and his doting admiration of her.  I loved the travels to Tahiti and back again.  Although there were holes in the narrative and incredible leaps at times (as well as some underdeveloped secondary characters), I would definitely gush about this book to someone else who wants the challenge of the 500 page epic.

This book restored my faith in Gilbert (much as her Ted Talk did) after her lucrative success with "Eat, Pray, Love" which I found mildly entertaining albeit a bit whiny.  This book is a ferocious journey through love, loss, and mostly the survival of the fittest.

'Life After Life': The Author's Power to Create Time, Meaning, and the Perpetual Do Over

"No point in thinking," she said briskly, "you just have to get on with life . . . We only have one after all, we should try and do our best.  We can never get it right, but we must try."

"What if we had a chance to do it again and again," Teddy said, "until we finally did get it right? Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

It would be wonderful if we were able to redo our life's mishaps, tribulations and tragedies - still births, Spanish Flu, falling accidents, drowning, suicide, the death of brothers and sisters, and even reverse the fate of millions by assassinating Hitler.  In Kate Atkinson's critically acclaimed novel, "Life After Life" she toys with the notion that life exists in perpetuity - a constant state of flux and do-overs. Outcomes can change with the twist of an ankle down the stairs, or a slight timing of events.  Even if personalities don't necessarily change, the events of life can.

I wasn't sure when I first picked up this hefty novel if I'd be able to make it past the first 20 pages.  It opens with a scene of Hitler's assassination, but the next very short chapter opens the novel again with the still birth of baby girl, and then the next chapter begins the birth chapter again with slight changes.  I restarted this book three times (thinking I was just to dumb to grasp the concept), and as the saying goes, three times is a charm because on that third try, my brain fixated on the characters enough to move me through the choppy first chapters and into the winding paths of "Life After Life."

Chronology does not exist in this book, but the continuity of the storyline flows.  I latched on to the familiar scenes - this is the part where she drowns, this is the part where she deals with WWII, this is the part that she deals with the fate of her family and the Spanish Flu, this is the part where she can possibly stop the death of her brother, the death of Nancy, the death of herself.  It becomes a dizzying effect of time, space, jumping from storyline to storyline, but following the same family of characters.  Ursula, described as a very intense child with green eyes and an old soul, has the power of reincarnation and she has an awareness of this gift enough that her mother, Sylvie decides that she should see Dr. Kellet who does not flinch at Ursula's knowledge of the future. Ursula both knows and doesn't know that life feels familiar.

What Atkinson created in the pages of "Life After Life" becomes a homage to the power of the author. How does an author decide on the fates of her characters?  How does she decide who lives and who dies?  How does the story connect and teach and create meaning for the readers?  Where does a story begin and end? These questions are also the questions of life, right? We are all a bit like Ursula - maybe not being reincarnated to stop Hitler or to befriend Eva Braun or to save our lovable brother, Teddy's life, or to pick up a stray dog after a bombing and name him Lucky, but we are all wading through the constant ebb and flow of life - making meaning of the past, looking toward the future and finding meaning in our present day.  There are those odd occasions where it all feels like we have been somewhere before or we'll catch ourselves saying "this is meant to be" or "I knew this would be the way things turned out."

For me, the magic in Atkinson's work stemmed from her playfulness even in the face of tragedy.  Her unending literary references (which I loved) made me smile even in the most tragic spaces of Ursula's life. Although Ursula was not the most engaging character I have ever read, I wanted to see her succeed.  I wanted her to live through the tragedies.  I wanted her to "bear witness" to the destruction of England during WWII and be strong enough to carry on.  I never stopped rooting for her to beat fate or to create fate or to be happy.

Atkinson's novel restored my faith in the power of the contemporary writer.  We are all products of our past and all working with what we have in the present state, and hoping that we can make a mark on the future.  "Life After Life" paves a very meandering path for future writers to aspire to.