Devon Trevarrow Flaherty's Blog, page 46

Book Review: The Five People You Meet in Heaven

[image error]Well, The Five People You Meet in Heaven is a quick read. And if you like morals with your stories–if you want to walk away introspective in a Halmark-movie sort of way–then this could be the book for you.

What did I think about it? It’s certainly easy to read. It’s interesting and moving. You’re always wondering something, since Mitch Albom sets you up at the beginning with an overt cliff hanger. Did he save the girl or didn’t he? And you know darn well he’s not going to tell you until the end. I don’t really enjoy writing negative book reviews, but I enjoy less being dishonest. Reviewing a book like The Five People You Meet in Heaven is a trap: you’re going to step on some toes no matter which way you go. Like Lyn from Goodreads said, “most people will either like it a lot and find inspiration and meaning, or loathe it entirely and dismiss it as drivel.” And some of those who like it a lot have really adopted it into their lives, it has meant something to them, maybe even affected the way they are living. (I also appreciated another GoodReads reviewer who said “Atheists shouldn’t read books about heaven” and expect to like them.)

Also, there’s some sort of things in the life of Albom himself that have different people’s knickers in a twist. He writes a newspaper column that makes people upset sometimes. He crosses picket lines? He spent a lot of time bashing J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter. And for this, sometimes his books don’t get a fair read. Well, I don’t really know much about Albom and, perhaps in this case, it’s better to leave it that way. After all, I am a Potterhead, and a devoted Slytherin.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven is about an older man who has lived a pretty disappointing life. He dies trying to save a little girl and instead of a tunnel with a bright light leading to pearly gates (at least so far), he is faced with a series of encounters with people whose lives touched his. From each one, he must learn a lesson. Some of the people he knew, some he did not. We see a lot of reveals, and some of it seems very, well, arbitrary, a slave to the story itself.

Let’s just assume here that this book is full of advice and scenarios that have meant something to many people. Literarily, the book is so-so. Like I already said, it’s easy to read, so  we’ll give Albom clear and concise. Occasionally you might call the writing nice or pretty, but there is not much challenge to it, in either the reading or the writing. It lacks depth, a little, and complexity in the story-telling. You get it, then you keep reading because you want to see the ending and who all the five people are going to be. I do think that the word “trite” can be applied here, though not all of us are looking for an artistic experience or are trying so hard to be hip.

One of the things I did enjoy about the book was the setting. I liked the idea of having an old carny fix-it guy as an antagonist, and I liked to see the seaside amusement park through the years of history.

I read it. It was okay. It would be easy to pull down off the shelf at a beach rental and read it before you leave. And if it speaks to you, more power to you. I’ll be reading something else next.

Series Review: The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

[image error]I have this feeling that my review of J.R.R. Tolkein’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy has to be super long, like in accordance with the length of the books. But are the books really that long? Let’s do a little comparison.

Each of the books (The Hobbit and then the trilogy proper: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King) runs normally between 300 and 500 pages, making the grand total around 1300-1800 (depending on the edition). Some of the longest books around (that you’ve heard of, anyway) are Dream of the Red Chamber at 2339 pages (which I just bought, incidentally), Les Miserables at 1462 (which I’ve read), Atlas Shrugged at 1088 (which I’ve also read), and Infinite Jest at 1104 (which I have not read). Don Quixote is around 1605, Bleak House 960, The Stand 1152, The Pillars of the Earth 816, The Three Muskateers 700, and The Hunchback of Notre Dame 940.  (Of course, reading time and word count can vary widely based on the type of writing, the typeset, font size, margins etc. These numbers will just give you an idea.) You always hear about those super long Russian novels, and some of those weigh in at 1296 (War and Peace), 864 (Anna Karenina), and 718 (Crime and Punishment). If you can believe it, there are some single novels that run up to 13,000 pages, but those are of such extreme length you probably haven’t heard of them. A long fantasy series might set your back 5000 pages. As for popular series, Harry Potter weighs in at 4400, A Song of Ice and Fire around 7500 (if it were complete), Twilight 2200, Inheritance Cycle 3000, and The Chronicles of Narnia 1300.

So, while The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (plus The Hobbit) is pretty long at maybe 1500 pages, Don Quixote is longer in a single book, and The Stand and War and Peace are similar sizes. The Chronicles of Narnia is also of similar length. Other fantasy series generally run much longer, actually, with Harry Potter (which I re-read constantly) nearly tripling the length and the popular A Song of Ice and Fire (unfinished series) approaching a whopping 7000 pages.

(For a list of long books worth reading, click HERE.)

[image error]Why did I just break that all down? Because I wanted to. And also because the length of the books is at the heart of why I hadn’t read them before. It is a little absurd that I hadn’t read The Lord of the Rings. They have been on our bookshelves (in three editions) since I got married. I have watched all the movies, at least a few times, including during Lord of the Rings marathons with the kids. We own them all, of course. Although I came very late to the fantasy game, I have been reading and enjoying (and even writing) fantasy for a good ten years, now. Why had I overlooked the classic of fantasy writing?

The truth is, I picked it up a long, long time ago. I started reading it. I got bogged down in description and underwhelmed with plot. I thought, “This series is so long to be plodding along in,” and I put it down. I almost wondered if I had put it down forever.

Now, before you get all mad at me, let me explain something: I don’t know what book it was that I picked up to begin on so long ago: it could have been The Hobbit or The Fellowship of the Ring, or even The Simarillion. After having read the entire Hobbit and trilogy, I am wondering if perhaps, not know that I was doing, it was The Simarillion that I picked up, thinking it was The Hobbit (the prequel, as it were). The Simarillion is bogged down in details and lacks a plot, best I can tell. It seems to me an amalgam of world-building extras that Tolkein’s son just couldn’t do without publishing, posthumously. It might be a real treat for people who are SO into Tolkein, but I’m not going to read it. If anything, I’ll just re-read The Hobbit and the trilogy.

Because, yes, it was good. I have now read it and am qualified to say that it wasn’t grueling to read. It was not steeped in detail or in description, at all. It is a slightly older style of writing, but there was plenty of action and a fair amount of character development. People grew. War. Death. Alliances. Enemies. Even a little romance. (I did notice, as I read, that these books are certainly masculine, in more ways than the obvious. I actually liked this about them, and filed that away in my recommendation-brain-file.)

One thing that surprised me was the awesome breadth of Tolkein’s creation that would become standard in the fantasy genre. I felt a little ripped off from all my Harry Potter reading, because, let’s face it, J.K. Rowling owes a heck of a lot to Tolkein (and perhaps George McDonald in turn), from plot points to finicky details. I suppose most everyone in fantasy does, which is super interesting to me. I can’t think of another genre that so religiously sticks to an unspoken contract to deal in tradition.

I’m not adding The Lord of the Rings to my favorite book list, just because it’s not my favorite. But I will be adding it to my runners up list, because it is an excellent series. The stories themselves: that’s where the gems truly are. But the writing aint half-bad, either. It is the series with my favorite character of all time, after all, which is—altogether now—Sam Gamgee. Has there ever been a braver, humbler, more loyal, and more resilient character than Frodo’s unlikely sidekick? As for Gollum: while you don’t exactly love him, I appreciate him as one of the more complex characters I have read. (Amazingly, while many would construct their tales in reaction to Tolkein, he somehow has this undercurrent that is anything but typical.) And the moral of the story, you drink down without even noticing you’re doing so. You’ll learn deep down that great things come in small packages and that hope, relationship, and the small things have a power over darkness that it cannot, in the end, overcome. (But darkness does happen and some battles are lost.)

If you enjoy fantasy, you’ve probably already read this series. If not, get on it. It is a timeless classic, even great reading for those who have seen all the movies multiple times. It’s a stupendous book to put in a teen’s hands, especially if that teen in male, but either way. If you want to try out fantasy or you don’t discriminate in your genres, this is also the book for you. It’s a timeless classic and I highly recommend it.

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[image error]As for the movies, I did a very short review of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug some time ago. It said about what I would say about all the series: watch it. It’s long, but it’s full of great CG and captures the real spirit of the books, characters, and story. The movies, like the books, are sure to be classics. And I prefer to watch the movies NOT in the order they were made. In other words, watch all three Hobbits first, and then the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Be forewarned: the trilogy is better than the somewhat drawn-out Hobbit series (one book into three movies). And don’t do the extended versions unless you later discover you’re a geek and would like to go back and watch them.[image error]

Book Review: The Prophet

[image error]This is one of those books that has sat in the back of my head and at the bottom of my list of books-to-read for many years. It felt like if I took literature seriously and was a truly modern, truly literate person, then I would have to read this one some time. In fact, I should have read it already.

I saw how slim it was. I slid it in my “carry-on” bag for a bus trip down to Orlando and back, along with a couple other books, including the behemoth Little, Big and another shorty, The Five People You Meet in Heaven. The shorter books called to me first (don’t they always?) and I read both of them on the way down. Neither were at all what I expected.

The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran, is not a novel, nor is it a novella. Perhaps you already knew that. It was published in 1923. It has never been out of print, and is one of the most widely translated books in the world (though it was written in English by the Lebanese-American Gibran). It might help to know, before reading, that the book consists of prose-poetry vignettes, sometimes labeled “fables.” It also might help to know that it feels more like quotes and advice: like someone famous’s compiled sayings. Which is sort of what it is, though in a lightly drawn structure of story: a man leaving town for exile and townspeople asking him advice before it’s too late.

Because it is a sort of Muslim-Baha’i amalgam, I don’t relate to it as well as it appears others have. This is a treasured book, after all, filled with what many have labeled wisdom. For me, it had its moments, but it also didn’t feel especially new or special. Shock and awe. I truly apologize to those who reverence this book, but I just don’t need it: I have other wisdom literature to turn to.

As a piece of literature, it is mildly entertaining, but like I said, it reads more like a book of quotes than it does a story. Don’t look here for twist and turns or well-drawn characters. Turn here if you have to read it for a college course. Or you are short on good advice, in your life.

The Prophet will remain famous, likely well after this blog has come and gone, by being quotable and dealing with life’s big moments. Want something to read at your wedding but don’t want to pick the religious standard? The Prophet will do for you. (There were inspirations of Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, and Baha’i in Khalil Gibran’s life. Look up his life story if that interests you.) Or at your vow renewal service? The Prophet is readable and short, but it’s not for everyone.

(There was an animated movie, Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, that came out in 2014, that I wouldn’t mind trying out. To make it a mainstream movie, they had to add a lot more story to it, and the animation looks beautiful.)

Book Review: Lincoln in the Bardo

[image error]I was in Syracuse, New York. I had packed the last two books in the Lord of the Rings series and then had devoured what was left of them. I was headed to a pedicure with my mother-in-law, sister-in-law and daughter and had about 20 minutes before my appointment to spare. There were two used book stores on the same street and, although unfamiliar with the area, I was compelled down the street to get myself a book (and just be around all those books!) before doing the drive back home. I had maybe ten minutes in the shop, no internet access to speak of (in order to look at my list of books-to-read-next/TBR), and so found myself in front of one of the fiction shelves, zoning out while staring at the books displayed on top. Something caught my eye: a pristine paperback copy of George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo. I’d heard of this book. More than one person in my writing group had recommended it, and I was pretty sure I had slid it into my TBR. Somewhere. Two minutes to go? Alright then, in my hand, on the counter, and out the door.

Little did I know.

Books are funny that way. You can buy a book with stars in your eyes and plaudits ringing in your ears and be sorely disappointed. Or you can snag a book in about 30 seconds that you have a vague inkling of and it rises to your favorite-books-of-all-time list before you’re even done with it. Can you tell where I’m headed? This is one of my favorite books. Of all time. And when I told one of my writer friends that I was reading it and almost done, we had this totally nerdy interaction where we basically just shouted out positive attributes of this book. In public.

Not that it’s all unicorns and fairies. (Actually, there are no unicorns or fairies.) But it’s a tremendous book, for sure. It not only tells a great story and keeps the reader on the edge of their seat, but it’s written so dang beautifully. Other awesome things about it: it’s unique and fresh; it’s chock-full of twists and turns and surprises; the characters are well-developed and interesting; the language is, at times, breath-takingly beautiful; it’s funny; it’s thought-provoking and full of deep contemplation; its based on history and gives it a fascinating turn… That might be about it, in a nut shell.

“So what’s this book about?!” you’re screaming, or else you’re screaming “Where have you been, under a rock?! I already know all about it.” Even the premise is interesting. It’s a ghost story. Not like a horror ghost story, but a ghost story nonetheless. A ghost story of the ilk of the Haunted House ride at Disney World. It reminded me very much of the room where the ghosts are partying in the graveyard. Anyhoo, we’re back in history and Abraham Lincoln is President, right in the middle of the Civil War. Lincoln’s child son, Willie has just died and finds himself in a graveyard with the other ghosts, unwilling to make the transition to the other side, what lays beyond the bardo. Ah, did you have to look that one up? It’s a Buddhist concept similar to, but not identical to, limbo. So Willie is the Lincoln in the bardo. Or is he? It has been reported that Abraham Lincoln returned to his son’s unburied casket multiple times to see the body, perhaps hold it. So now we have two Lincolns in the graveyard, one in the bardo, and somehow with that thought and in only one night of action and a dozen or so other strong characters (ghosts, all), we have a very compelling story.

There is something I should warn you about. Saunders wrote this book a little weird. There are whole chapters that are just quotes. And then the rest of the chapters are meant to appear like a series of quotes, with the character who said them’s name appearing afterward. So sort of like a play, but with the names at the END of the lines. And there is no narrator, so oftentimes a character narrates what is happening. Um. How to put this nicely? There was no need for this tomfoolery and it only distracts from a great piece of literature. The quotes? Sure. Even the narrating characters are okay, but the constant breaks and sometimes being unclear as to who’s speaking? Just not pleasant. I suppose I should be “taking something away” from this choice, but what I take away is that some people—people who would otherwise love this book—just won’t touch it with a ten foot pole the way it is. (It does make you wonder when they’ll turn it into a play or a movie or a TV show.)

Also, I can’t recommend this book across the board because it is a little gritty. Innocent on some levels, and gritty as well. I don’t know how he does that, but there really is this demure-depraved thing going on which captures some of the tension of the time period. While it never sinks to the level of Game of Thrones, there are some, ahem, moments and details that would keep me from reading it aloud in a room full of high schoolers. Yet it all makes sense, and in the end it also celebrates the world, nature, life in such a way as to be more hopeful than revolting.

One last thing. Some of the quotes are real. Some are not. Some of the history is accurate. Most of it is, obviously, not. This can be frustrating if you like to keep your facts straight. But let me just suggest that you take a deep breath and plunge in anyways, because while Lincoln may be rolling over in his grave while you read, this ride will be worth it.

Book Reviews: 1984 and Brave New World

I’m going to review these books together, because they had been all mixed up in my memory. (Not anymore.) They are also both classics of dystopian fiction and are both books you might be required to read in high school or college. I was in high school when I was assigned 1984 and a college freshman when I read Brave New World for a perspectives class. In actuality, they are very different books, but we’ll get into that in a second.

[image error]This time around, I read Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World first. And the first intelligent thing that is done in that book is to set it in a time after the present age, so that it could remain possible in time for a long, long while yet. (Think of things like Prince’s “Party Like It’s 1999.” These dates pass. Doomsday doesn’t happen. It gets awkward.) The book also has less historical or political roots, so it remains more immediate than some other dystopian literature because of that, too.

Here’s the gist: There has been an event in human history, after which everything changed and the dating system started afresh. The goal of the society, which during the book has been going on for a long time, is a happy populace. To achieve happiness, everyone’s every move is prescribed, partly by fetal modification and then psychological manipulation in childhood (and even a sophisticated type of osmosis). Castes are rigid. Relationships are banished (included the familial ones). Certain vices are required (like promiscuous sex which begins in childhood). Calming drugs are used daily. Only positive emotions are allowed. Disease has been eliminated. Death is normalized. And most of the population is okay with being along for the ride.

But not quite one of the main characters. (The story shifts between three of them.) When Bernard takes Lenina along for a trip to a savage reservation, they uncover a blast from their boss’s past. The two worlds collide and tragedy ensues. Nobody’s saving the day in this novel, where we are left instead with a sense of foreboding and our own thoughts about the future. It’s meant to make a difference in the actual world, instead, where we can still hang on to our freedoms as opposed to eliminating pain and suffering. That’s the dilemma here: freedom versus happiness.

It’s easy reading, thanks in part to it being more genre/science fiction than literary fiction. I didn’t really want to put it down. I wanted to find out more what this world was like and also what was going to happen to these characters. I never liked the characters (boo hoo), and I was uncomfortable with all the casual sex, especially the children’s “games.” Not sure either of these things took away from the book’s intention, and I would recommend it for young people to read and discuss. Like in school. Which is pretty typical already.

[image error]It was difficult to switch gears from Brave New World to George Orwell’s 1984. While Brave New World is an easy read, 1984 is slower going. The writing style is very different. It’s denser and includes much explanation, especially during excerpts from the supposed Banned Book. It feels like older writing, which it is. Written in the 1950s, the dystopia that Aldous Huxley writes of talks place in approximately 1984. Clearly it didn’t happen in reality, but there are still things that a reader can learn from his or her reading. (Note to parents: there is sex in this book, as well.)

Also bleak and meant to make you think more than smile, 1984 takes place in a world where the twentieth-century world wars led to a regime which formed three unified governments that work in sync to submit the world population to such thorough oversight and surveillance that there is no rebellion, even in thought. 1984 does introduce several interesting concepts, including doublethink, but the story can be a little slow.

Ever hear references to Big Brother? That the government is watching us? This is where Big Brother comes from. Submitting the upper castes to constant surveillance so skilled that it can basically read your thoughts, this book is about a struggle of one man against his inclinations. When he begins his small rebellions, he understands that it will end in disaster. Occasionally we stumble upon hope (first in the form of a relationship and then in the form of an allegiance), only for it to be squashed again. If there is hope for the world, it has to be in the lower classes (possibly, theoretically) and Winston gets no part of it.

The world of 1984 feels old timey (like it would be made into a black and white movie with cockney accents and a haze of smoke). Everyone wears a uniform and, again, are rigidly classified. Violence and obliteration are the threats that hang over everyone’s head (even in the form of their own children), leading to a paranoid, rigid obedience. Even facial expressions are regulated, though these people haven’t been modified in any space-age way. This book is more about a government that is so absolute that it becomes a creature unto itself: a self-sustained, opposition-obliterating creature. It is no accident that Winston’s job is in the news department, where (like in many other places) irony is used to mock a populace that can no longer appreciate it. One of the most important aspects of this novel is the lesson that history belongs to those who hold the present: the past can be modified so that truth no longer exists and becomes, well, irrelevant.

Again, an important fiction read for encouraging thinking about our present and future. An appropriate book to assign to young adults for discussion, or just for doing some thinking yourself. Neither one of these books was a favorite for me, but I wouldn’t un-read either of them.

Series Review: Little House

[image error]I’m sure I must have read Little House on the Prairie when I was a kid. And maybe Little House in the Big Woods. I don’t recall, though I do see the old copy on my bookshelf. What I do recall is being part of a generation during whose childhood the popular television series (with Michael Landon) aired. It remains part of the shared consciousness of Gen X and when you search “Little House on the Prairie,” it is what immediately comes up. This is a mistake. For one, the television series has not really stood the test of time. For two, the books, as often is that case, are better. And the books have stood the test of time.

[image error]The Little House series is an autobiographical collection, by Laura Ingalls Wilder, of eight books that tell the story of a girl growing up during the western expansion of the pioneers. There is a larger series written by other authors, broken up into books about different members of the Ingalls family, which means that they also break down into different periods of American history. (There are also books written by other authors which cover the years of Wilder’s life which she does not write about.) I can not speak to any of these other authors’ books. I will write here about the original eight.

They are, in order:

Little House in the Big Woods
Little House on the Prairie
Farmer Boy
On the Banks of Plum Creek
By the Shores of Silver Lake
The Long Winter
Little Town on the Prairie
Those Happy Golden Years
The First Four Years

[image error]Seriously, they are great books. They are perhaps not the best writing in the world (literarily speaking, there are no word-acrobatics), but they are full of adventure and history, including so many informational bits that you finish up thinking you might do okay if someone dropped you in the middle of the prairie with nothing but a horse, gun, and ax. Of course, you also leave feeling like those pioneer people were tough as nails and crazy as bat poop. They really had adventure running in their blood, to be compelled to wander into already inhabited territory (though the government was slowly seeing to that) with no safety net. They had to deal with everything on their own. Robbery. Fire. Bad crops. Disease. Construction. Putting meals on the table. Keeping themselves warm. You see the tension in the characters of Pa and Laura (the main character) most. There’s a pull of the wild, almost irresistible, but also the acknowledgement that a good neighbor is priceless.

About the adventures: their life just isn’t dull (despite what you might think about being alone with your nuclear family for year after year). There’s just too much to deal with. And with each book covering around a year or so, there’s plenty of nail-biting excitement for a prairie dweller. Plagues of insects. Railroad worker riots. Prairie fire. Flooding. The list never ends. And if your parents told you they walked miles uphill, barefoot, in the snow to get to school, they were probably referencing Little House. About the historical details: I imagine that some readers would find it a bit much, but I have also found other people along the way who rave about that exact thing. Kids, especially, seem interested in the minutiae of building a log cabin, milking a cow, creating a latch string, making maple candy, etc. And definitely when I write that cookbook one day full of literary recipes, I’ll turn right here to the description of pioneer food.

Of course, as with almost any older books I read, you have the issue of political correctness. Modern American readers have a very specific (and up-to-the-minute) idea of political correctness that they tend to impose on other people of other cultures and times. Native peoples got the shaft in early America. This is history. In the Little House series, the interaction with the native peoples is a matter of fact. Each character deals with it in their own way, but the overall attitude is one of acceptance. We (and I) find this appalling, that the pioneers were complicit with the extraction and near-genocide of an indigenous people. Most of them didn’t see it this way. Even the simple idea of “us” and “them” can rub someone from a global culture the wrong way. Some of the characters seem more empathetic to the Indians. Ma, in particular, “doesn’t like them.” At heart, she fears them, and not for no reason. While this is disappointing to me as a reader, the book wouldn’t be honest without it. Personally, I take most differences in literary opinion as an opportunity to think about and discuss things, and when I read to my children, all the more so. There is no anti-Native propaganda here, and you can almost hear the gears in Laura’s head turning as she encounters dealings with the Native Americans. (This is a great boon of our main character in fact: those gears are always turning.)

I do love these books. They don’t diminish in quality. They simply represent different experiences with the West through a time. They’re not the poster child for fancy writing, traditional plot, or even for character development, but they are interesting, engaging, and real. Laura is spunky, thoughtful, and energetic. I wouldn’t want my kids to miss out on this rite of passage/cross-discipline series (nor would I want to miss the opportunity to say over and over again, “You think I’m strict?”

Note: There is a pretty inexplicable jump (for one book) to a boy in upstate New York, near the beginning of the series. You can skip this book if you want, though it is an interesting look at someone in different circumstances during the same time period. The explanation is this: this boy would become Laura’s husband, and the placement is meant to be chronological.

Suddenly Writing

[image error]One day last month, a writing friend contacted me by email to inform me that there was an affordable writing conference taking place in a couple weeks’ time in the next town over. For only something like $20, I could spend most of my Saturday learning and workshopping in a group that would consist of either fiction writers, screenwriters, poets, or playwrights. Sign me up! Within a week I was confirmed and slotted into the fiction writers group and within a few weeks there I sat, nervous and excited and across the table from aforementioned friend.

The workshop was sponsored by the North Carolina Arts Council as a part of a series (across the state) meant to facilitate art community and cooperation beyond the working artists (by making it open to the public). I thoroughly enjoyed myself and was impressed by the talent in the room. I met some people. (They call that networking.) And I wrote until my hand cramped. That’s right: I was given blocks of time (after teaching and inspiration) to write to a prompt. I used an actual journal and pen (!) and found that all this prompting and journaling really got the juices flowing. Loved it!

When I got home, I found myself inspired to keep writing short format and took some notes. I also decided that I would post some of my short format writing on the website (see MY SHORTS tab) and use some of it to apply for residencies and fellowships. At heart, I am still more of a novelist, but I do sometimes create in shorter pieces. At any rate, I’m all-around inspired, even for the current novels. (Plural, yes.)

So this is how I am taking steps forward amid a life cluttered with to-dos and responsibilities (including being a full-time homeschool educator and homemaker). I am also attending a two-hour write-in on Wednesday nights (which is occasionally just me. That’s okay, because we generally try not to talk and distract each other anyways). It feels good to write a scene every week, but I know that it can’t compare to how much work I can knock out at a residency. (And I keep meeting with my writing group, once a month.) There is a proliferation of write-ins in my urban area which I could be taking advantage of, but I have discovered that choosing my own place and time has made the whole process much more palatable and therefore feasible. Plus, I get to choose my company.

Perhaps my journey will give you a couple ideas. Attend a conference. Go to a write-in (or start one). Join a writing group. Apply for residencies and fellowships. For the first time in years, my countdown-to-fulltime-writing-career has shortened. In three years (which until recently was seven)  I will be only months away from being home alone and grappling for footing in a competitive field. I want to be that much closer to success when I get there.

Book Review: The Phantom Tollbooth

It may seem like there are a whole lotta books that I have been enthusiastically looking forward to reading. It would seem that way because it is that way. I have always been an avid reader and a curious individual, and there are so many books that I haven’t quite got around to yet, including the growing list of new publications. I have now gotten around to The Phantom Tollbooth.

[image error]There are timeless stories. The Phantom Tollbooth doesn’t seem to me to be one of them. I believe that it is more popular in England than in the States, where it’s more a part of their cultural vernacular. However, there was nothing about this book that didn’t feel dated to me. Now, I sometimes give great reviews to books that fall into a more historical category (like Jane Eyre or Shakespeare), or even to those (like Beverly Cleary or Little House on the Prairie) that feel nostalgic or quaint. Those books still felt relevant to me. Tollbooth felt more like a moderately interesting cultural oddity.

You could put it in some category somewhere, I suppose, and enjoy reading it. Maybe in the same category as Half Magic. But Tollbooth is more psychedelic and allegorical than even Alice in Wonderland. It’s definitely got a lesson to teach. And I can’t see modern children relating very well to all the wordplay. Certainly, my fifth grader did not love it. (He didn’t hate it, either. The best word for it might be tolerance.) There have been other complaints: it lacks plot. The characters are not very interesting or fleshed out. Etc.

It’s also not what you expect when you pick up a book from the local bookstore, anymore. I guess I was expecting more of a traditional sci-fi/fantasy, but this is something much more primitive and, in some ways, more sophisticated. It’s early, yes, but it’s also high-brow. For kids. From a different time and place.

I dunno’. If you have been dying to read it, then do. It won’t take you long and you can see what all the fuss is about. It would make a fine beach read. Expect a quirky, old-fashioned story with lots of allegory and word play and an unconventional plot and papery characters. On the other hand, if you like literature like The Little Prince, this might be the perfect book for you. But unless they are obsessed with vintage speculative lit (like A Wrinkle in Time), I wouldn’t hand this one to a modern kid and expect them to fall in love with it.

Book Review: The Thing About Jellyfish

[image error]This book will forever be a little mixed up in my consciousness with the place and circumstances under which I read it. Sometimes that happens to a book—like if you read it while on bedrest or on a bus on the way to Florida. This one has a stronger association for me than some. To assuage your curiosity, I will tell you: I had jury duty a few weeks ago. I showed up in the morning and an actual friend plopped down into the seat next to me, “Fancy meeting you here!” We spent the next six-plus hours reading side-by-side (and having lunch nearby), making occasional comments about the book that I was reading. Why mine? Because I really only gave my friend the ridiculous moments, but the character and outcome became a thing to laugh at and talk about. I finished the book off mere minutes before I was sent home with my certificate and pay check.

Perhaps I went on that tangent because I don’t like to give bad reviews. Especially when no one else seems to agree with me. But then I remind myself that this hard-working author has already gotten so much from this book. My unkindness won’t make a significant difference, right? I’m just bound to be honest to my own reading. Sigh.

The Thing About Jellyfish, by Ali Benjamin, was never going to be my favorite book, whether or not I read it on a long day serving as a jury prospect. It did keep me turning the pages, because the plot is pretty interesting. The characters are okay, too, and the writing is pretty solid. Jellyfish is about a girl whose best friend has drowned and the year during which Suzy tries to work out her secret guilt about having done something mean to this “friend” right before her death. There’s an interesting quirk to the book and to the main character.

Full disclosure: this review is in disagreement with most readers. The book has won awards and gets plaudits from many readers and critics. But I can’t—just can’t—get past the so-very-millennial-ness (in the worst way) of this book. To be honest, there are things that I celebrate about millennials as a group, just as I can get together with old people and curmudgeon about them. But what the heck?!? The main character in this book is certifiable. She needs to be disciplined and institutionalized, not patted on the head and given a ribbon. I don’t want to ruin the book for you, but I’m dying to, because some of the things that Suzy does are appalling (which makes for good reading), but none of her actions have the appropriate consequences. And it’s not like that’s what the author was musing upon. No. There are just no consequences for being unstable or for committing crimes, apparently. Apparently we become better people and heal when love is tender and never difficult. Apparently, parents and adults are only any good for hugging. Otherwise, they’re scoffed at and dismissed (which, yes, is what Suzy does with the adults in her life).

Ug.

There’s not much more for me to say. I would have given the book an “okay,” and I was dying to recommend it to my son because all the bits about jellyfish and other science topics are really interesting.  But the non-consequences thing made me want to stand against it. I can’t, in conscience, place this book into the hands of any young person, because I can’t abide by the outcome (most apparent in the unfulfilling ending. Turns out that a lack of consequences makes for bad reading).

PS. My daughter was also really looking forward to reading this book and she didn’t like it, either. I’m sure she would give different reasons.

Book Review: Wonder

[image error]Wonder by R.J. Palacio is my daughter’s favorite book (and she is not alone). I’ve been meaning to read it for at least a year, and I have even already watched the movie (because my daughter wasn’t going to wait around for me).

Having barely set the book down over the past two days, I zipped through it. It’s a page-turner, for sure. And it is really good. I cried at least four times, though my daughter looked at me with raised eyebrows and I admitted that I cry more the older I get. I was also crying my way through Anne of Green Gables for like the twentieth time, last week.

If you aren’t already aware, Wonder is the story of Auggie Pullman, a kid-tween who is making the transition from homeschool to private middle school. His situation, however, is far more complicated than the usual new-kid-in-school’s, since Auggie was born with a clash of genetic disorders that leaves him looking anything but like all the other kids in school. He’s also spent a lifetime in and out of hospitals. No surprise, then, that the book (and movie) supply great talking points for kids and middle schoolers about bullying, appearances, kindness, judging, etc., and the set-up is great fodder for an exploration on family, relationships, and friendship.

What can be said about the book itself: the writing in the book is interesting and engaging, with some literary surprises. The characters couldn’t be more endearing, even while they are rather fleshed out and relatable. The plot is interesting enough, too, and there are moments of nail-biting where you just can’t put the book down and go to sleep. Being middle-grades and pretty new, the story does have a very modern voice, so if you are older you might be annoyed by the softness of it and the interdependence of the characters, stuff like that. But the characters are more than just modern. The family especially—but also the friendships—have a real breath of old-fashioned to them. These people struggle, love, fight, respect, work, laugh, and their friendships are deep, meaningful, and loyal, their family ties affectionate, traditional, and overall positive and strong. (It’s difficult to find books, movies, and shows these days with the family portrayed positively and even “normal.”)

My only critique about this book is the ending (okay, and maybe using a different typing style for only one character, having such short chapters, and giving physical descrptions sometimes long after we’ve been with a character). And I wouldn’t say I don’t like the ending, just that it is a little trite. It ends realistically enough, I just think perhaps it should have ended a little earlier in the story. Before the been-done bow was sitting on top of the package. I don’t want to give too much away, but we end up at a scene that is just too neat and too recognizable, for my taste anyway. I will admit that there are plenty of readers who ask for this type of ending. And endings really are the most difficult part of writing. (And you can’t please everyone.) There are, in effect, a series of endings, which I think could have been abbreviated.

I would enthusiastically recommend this book to everyone. Especially middle graders, but really just anyone. Even the adult characters are sketched out enough that no one (except mean people) would find themselves lost here, or unable to relate to someone or something.

MOVIE

[image error]The movie is nice. My daughter lamented that some of her favorite characters and scenes were cut out, but I actually saw the movie first, so I can’t say if I would have felt the same. It’s a pretty solid family film, as long as everyone’s ready to deal with the material (like bullying and living with a deformity, etc.). I very much appreciate seeing a movie where not only are the parents fully functional and together, but they are also influential—even powerful—in the child’s life. I would recommend it, easily, though I’m not sure I would freak out about it. (I also kept Julia Roberts as the mom in my mind when I read the book, despite the (late) description being different. She just feels to calming to me.)

BONUS REVIEW: AUGGIE & ME

[image error]I would recommend giving it a little time before moving from book one to book two. I mean, this is a story, and Julian is the villain. We are in a culture that enjoys exploring the villain and humanizing him, and there is some legitimacy to that, but we are also human and we identify with light and dark, good and bad, hero and villain. So it’s a leap.

In the end, I liked Wonder better than Auggie & Me, and I thought Auggie got less engaging as you went. (FYI: the book is really three short stories or novellas bound together. They all tie to the original story from Wonder, but are also their own stories.) I really think Palacio should have made these stories about someone outside of the Wonder universe. I felt it would have been stronger to say what she wanted to say about new characters, instead of beating the old plot into the ground. For one, the stories change our experience with Wonder, but we don’t need that. Also, I don’t find the expansion helpful or pleasant. Meanwhile, the stories have some interest in and of themselves. (Note: Written as they are, though, one might have a hard time understanding them without reading Wonder first.)

This is one of those I wouldn’t discourage you from reading. Julian’s story, in particular, might be engaging to kids and teens and the other stories have some real interesting twists. But it’s not a straight-up recommendation. I think Wonder works better standing alone.