Category: What I’m Reading

My Amazon and Goodreads review of The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird by Martha Engber (Rating 5) – Suspenseful and Spellbinding. The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird by Martha Engber is a breathless adventure about two courageous Native American women warriors on opposite sides of a life-or-death conflict. Readers meet strong-willed Pino, determined to redeem herself and save her threatened tribe, and wily Meesha, eager to avenge her own murdered tribe and escape her subsequent enslavement. With mounting suspense and spellbinding writing, Engber steers the narrative through the young heroines’ journeys as they face hard choices and nearly insurmountable odds. Pino is plagued by guilt over her sister’s death. Meesha is entrapped in a love-hate relationship with her tormentor. When the women form an unlikely alliance, readers wonder whether defeating their common enemy will likewise allow them to vanquish their own inner demons. The novel is enriched by meticulously researched details of daily life among pre-colonial New England Native Americans. As writer of historical fiction myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Engber’s ability to include factual details, yet maintain the fast-moving plot. While set hundreds of years ago, this tale of sisterhood nevertheless speaks to today’s struggle for self-determination and survival among all beleaguered peoples. The Falcon, the Wolf, and the Hummingbird is entertaining, enlightening, and enormously inspiring.

Conflict, connection, revenge, redemption

Why writers read: “Books let you travel without moving your feet.” – Jhumpa Lahiri

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Take What You Need by Idra Novey (Rating 5) – It’s Complicated. I was hooked at the book’s first line: “This morning, I read that repeating the name of the deceased can quiet the mind when grieving for a complicated person.” Take What You Need by Idra Novey is the story of a difficult relationship, told from the alternating perspectives of Leah, a young woman, and her recently deceased stepmother Jean, who left when Leah was ten and from whom she is estranged. Jean is a magnetic character who inspires both admiration and distaste, an artist obsessed with sculpting massive towers (“manglements”) which she welds from scrap metal, old photos, and other salvaged materials. Jean literally dies for her art, falling from a ladder while reaching for the top of one of her towers. Leah travels to the tiny, decaying house and town in northern Appalachia where Jean was born and died, trying to come to terms with the disruption between that first decade of love followed by sudden abandonment. In Jean’s back story, readers hear her aching need to restore their connection and the multiple ways in which Jean, an artistic visionary with emotional blind spots, repeatedly screws up every attempt. We also discover, along with Leah, that in mourning those with whom we had an uneasy relationship, we can come to acknowledge the good without invalidating the bad. Jean had an open heart that invited everyone, even society’s castoffs, to take what they needed, while being insensitive to the person who needed her most. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I applaud Novey’s ability to draw characters who are at once unlikable and sympathetic. As one among many who have struggled with ambivalent feelings about those we’ve have lost, I appreciate how Take What You Need gives grieving readers permission to let conflicting emotions dwell alongside each other.

A journey to resolve conflicting feelings for the deceased

Why writers read: “A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.” – George R. R. Martin

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Chicken Dinner News by Jeff Billington (Rating 5) – To Flee or Not To Flee? Chicken Dinner News by Jeff Billington is a small tale that poses questions as big and existential as Hamlet’s “To be or not to be?” What makes a life meaningful? How do we contribute to progress while honoring the past? What does it mean to love not just one person but an entire place? After the death of a grandfather he barely knew, Californian Ryan Shipley finds himself the owner of a newspaper in a dying Missouri town, farmland just outside the town, and half the stately old buildings — all decaying — in the town itself. Taking a leave from his job as a copy editor, Ryan heads to White Oak City to sell it all, leave the family history behind, and return to his “real” life in Los Angeles. Instead he finds himself torn between escaping and staying, enamored by the town’s charms (albeit irritated by its prejudices), awed by images of its erstwhile grandeur, and boosted by his own abilities to write, edit, and raise the level of the paper, heretofore a vehicle for reporting news about community events, such as chicken dinners (hence the title). Throw in a romance, a legacy to live up to, and people hoping Ryan will be their savior, and you have the struggle at the heart of this heartfelt novel. Billington persuades readers to slow down and linger in an evocative setting with characters who defy stereotypes. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Billington’s talent for crafting mini-dramas that illuminate meta-issues. Chicken Dinner News invites readers to assess the value of their own communities, regardless of size, and establish their place in it.

Taking big steps to help a small town survive

Why writers read: “There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate’s loot on Treasure Island.” – Walt Disney

My Amazon and Goodreads review of Old Babes in the Wood: Stories by Margaret Atwood (Rating 5) – She (We) Ain’t Dead Yet. Margaret Atwood’s story collection Old Babes in the Wood is rich with the insights this author has bestowed on readers for decades. My favorites comprise the sections that bracket the book, in which the recently widowed Nell recalls her long marriage to Tig. The writing is poignant. Yet, in characteristic Atwood fashion, grief’s bellyaches are tempered with memory’s belly laughs: oddball friends, quirky routines, off-kilter misunderstandings. The pair are as predictable as any old married couple, yet they surprise us and one another with their secrets. Even those discovered posthumously. Tig is dead, (or as Nell says, unable to complete the thought, “Now that Tig.”), yet he is still very much present. And, Atwood reminds us, so is that old babe, Nell. She muses on widowhood: how to remain relevant, not relegated to the dust bin; to see meandering minds as sane reflections of a nonlinear world, not signs of a brain gone bonkers. The Handmaid’s Tale aside, I prefer Atwood’s reality stories to her speculative fiction, but for readers who gravitate to the latter, there is plenty in the book’s middle section to satisfy them, notably an amusing but cautionary tale of a communication impasse with the aliens who rescue us after we’ve destroyed our own planet. And for those who relish the wit with which Atwood punctures (especially male) authority, she offers a gut-busting pseudo-feminist treatise on witches and other flying female villains. Atwood’s stories are often deceptively simple but they reverberate with deeper meaning. As a writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I know the effort expended to make hard-earned prose appear easy on the page. Atwood works hard, and while we play with her words, we willing work hard to wrest the most out of them. Old Babes in the Wood immerses readers in the thoughts, feelings, and sensations of aging. The woods are perilous, the past’s undergrowth lurks to trip us up. Yet a lush canopy ahead lures us forward. Atwood prods us on. Like the author, we ain’t dead yet!

Atwood at her poignant and witty best

Why writers read: “The more you read, the less apt you are to make a fool of yourself with your pen or word processor.” – Stephen King

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Bliss Road by Martha Engber (Rating 5) – Shedding the Sins of Our Fathers. My curiosity when I read Martha Engber’s Bliss Road: A Memoir About Living a Lie and Coming to Terms with the Truth was threefold. First, having inferred autobiographical elements in Engber’s fiction, I sought to confirm my hunches in her memoir. Second, as a developmental psychologist who got my Ph.D. when the study of autism was still in its infancy (Bruno Bettelheim was then blaming the condition on “refrigerator moms” and it would be decades before the role of heredity was acknowledged), I wondered how Engber would integrate her personal experience with emerging knowledge in the field. Third, recognizing in hindsight that my own late father would today be identified as “on the spectrum,” I sought to further my understanding of its impact on me. Engber satisfied my curiosity on all three issues. First, her father’s ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) clearly influenced Engber’s writing. Where he was socially clueless, she is an astute observer and recorder of emotions. Her fiction centers on human interactions, often raw and open. She brings that same unrelenting honesty to her memoir. The probing poems that introduce each section ask the questions — What? Why? — she sensed but couldn’t articulate as a child. As a writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I can spot Engber’s authenticity on every page. Second, Engber seamlessly integrates her own experiences with the history of autism research and the latest knowledge in the field. To her surprise, and chagrin, she discovered there was no research on the effect that ASD parents, especially undiagnosed ones, have on the development of their children. Although it is not inevitable, a troubled parent can shape a troubled child. The longer the potential damage goes undetected, the harder it is to treat. Engber offers practical suggestions to prevent or limit the inter-generational damage, such as offering parenting classes to those diagnosed with ASD where they can the learn skills to connect with their children. Third, seeing my own experiences reflected in Engber’s narrative was validating. I am sure that many readers will have that same jolt of recognition. Engber details her path to recovery and literally delivers a pep talk to readers to embark on their own journey. She admits the road is arduous but promises that it leads to a fuller life. From the book’s blissful conclusion, we have to acknowledge she’s right.

An honest confrontation with familial autism

Why writers read: “To find words for what we already know.” – Alberto Manguel

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Kantika by Elizabeth Graver (Rating 4) – A Serenade to Sephardic Immigrants. The story of Rebecca in Kantika (“sing” in Ladino) by Elizabeth Graver, is an usual take on the American Jewish experience, that of a Sephardic Jew from Turkey (via Spain) rather than an Ashkenazi Jew from Eastern Europe. The book honors the author’s own immigrant ancestors. In the Torah (Old Testament), Rebecca is a beautiful young woman who has the courage to leave her homeland and venture into unknown territory to marry the equally unknown, but troubled, Isaac. She becomes the “decider,” the leaders of her generation, guaranteeing her people’s future. So too does this early twentieth century Rebecca, a young widow with two boys, David and Alberto, cross an ocean to marry Sam, a widower with a daughter, Luna, whose disabilities — the result of cerebral palsy — are more severe than Rebecca has been led to believe. Arriving in a chaotic household, and determined to succeed, Rebecca takes charge. Her painstaking (painful) yet undeterred efforts to teach her severely physically handicapped, but mentally sharp, stepdaughter Luna are moving. Strong-willed but well matched combatants, both emerge victorious. Luna achieves independence and personhood while Rebecca achieves grudging respect and acceptance as her mother. The early part of the book is occasionally bogged down by the author’s exposition on Sephardic Jewish culture. Later in the book, as Graver introduces other narrative voices and points of view, important information is missing. For example, after much is made of how and when her two boys can join her, the narrative advances three years without readers learning how they got to America and what their reunion with their mother was like. As a writer of historical fiction myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I know the importance of including that information selectively and organically in the narrative. At times, Graver includes either too much or too little. The passages from Luna’s point of view are absorbing, those from David less so. I missed hearing Rebecca’s voice which, when it finally returns, sounds diminished. Graver’s choice to pass the narrative to the next generation mirrors the immigrant experience, but the book loses its force. Those reservations aside, Kantika is a rich and engaging story of multiple and often conflicting identities. The biblical Rebecca and Kantika’s Rebecca each arrive in a new land and earn the mantle of matriarch. Graver persuades us that we are indebted to their creative vision and their no-nonsense strength.

An homage to Graver’s immigrant ancestors

Why writers read: “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” – Malorie Blackman

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Heart and Salt by Elaina Battista-Parsons (Rating 5) – Grains and Gifts. Heart and Salt by Elaina Battista-Parsons is a collection of stories about young women growing up and into themselves. They test themselves, and others. They tend toward skepticism, and take life with a grain of salt. Yet they have rare moments of pure heart that deliver epiphanies to them and offer gifts to readers. The tales explore the relationships that those on the cusp of adulthood grapple with: finding the “right” romantic partner, making friends who let you be yourself, navigating parental expectations, marking your “place” in the world, be it the Jersey shore or a small New England town. The recurring and well-named character Feather, literally a self-described lightweight, epitomizes this transitional stage. She’s in the middle, unable to commit, never quite belonging wherever she lands. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I appreciate Battita-Parsons’s ability to make readers believe in the characters more than they believe in themselves. Heart and Salt authentically captures the trying years between late girlhood and early womanhood, planting the hope that these seekers will eventually ground themselves and allow their individual talents to shine.

Growing from girlhood to womanhood

Why writers read: “Books are people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.” – E. B. White

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Ella’s War by Rusty Allen (Rating 5) – A Battle of the Heart. Rusty Allen’s unique perspective in Ella’s War sets it apart from other World War Two novels. The story unfolds on the home front, not the battlefield, and a German soldier is a gentle helpmeet, not a feared enemy. In Allen’s sensitive narrative, passion wrestles with patriotism while love confronts loyalty. Like the best historical fiction, harsh facts are softened with tender moments. The tale alternates among four memorable characters. Ella, mother of a young son, struggles to manage the Delaware farm she inherited following her parents’ sudden death. Lee, her common-law husband and the boy’s father, chafes at being tied down but steps up to tend the farm. Reese, their resourceful child, vows to prove his manhood when his father impetuously overrides his Army deferment to enlist. And Dieter, the industrious first mate of a captured U-boat, strives to make amends for his countrymen’s inhumanity. With evocative metaphor, cinematic detail, and absorbing drama, Allen builds toward the book’s moral dilemma. Dieter, a prisoner of war, is assigned to work on the farm. Ella, initially wary, falls in love with him. Then Lee, changed by the wounds of war, comes home, ready to “do right” by Ella, their son, and the farm. Ella is wrenched by the choice she must make. Readers will be torn too. In addition to the main story line, Allen takes readers down lesser known channels of that era, such as the in-fighting between POWs who are hard-line Nazis versus those who don’t share their rabid antisemitism. He also illuminates the wartime challenges of running a farm, racial prejudice, belittling of women, and coming-of-age battles between boys trying to prove who is tougher. As a historical novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I can affirm Allen’s deftness at balancing fact and fiction to simultaneously inform and maintain the narrative’s momentum. The book will engage your mind, rouse your spirit, and shake your emotions. In a conflict without good guys and bad guys, Ella’s War is ultimately a battle of the heart.

A unique perspective on WWII from the home front

Why writers read: “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” – Malorie Blackman

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano (Rating 5) – A Winning Four-Point Shot. Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano begins and ends with William Waters, an emotionally blocked basketball player, but the book revolves around the four Padavano sisters, whose family he joins through marriage. The women compare themselves to the March girls in Little Women; they vie for the plum roles and sidestep that of the doomed Beth. One of the many skills in Napolitano’s writing is making readers wonder if, when, and who a Beth equivalent will emerge. The narrative is told from multiple points of view, primarily those of William and the two older sisters (Julia and Sylvia), with later chapters also featuring William and Julia’s daughter Alice. The characters are intricately and distinctively drawn, as is the family solidarity that is greater than the sum of their parts. As a writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Napolitano’s talent for allowing readers to see events and the choices they make from multiple perspectives, without passing judgment. She renders a panoply of emotions: joy and grief, emptiness and fulfillment, courage and fear, desire and deadness. The novel shines with love. This capacious book houses a large family with room for more members, readers included.

A book that affirms the life-giving power of love

Why writers read: “A key part of writing is to read good writing, to see how others have done it.” – Carl Phillips

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Hope for the Worst by Kate Brandt (Rating 5) – A Courageous Search for the Meaning of Being. Ellie Adkins, the young protagonist of Hope for the Worst by Kate Brandt, is a seeker whose life has fallen apart. She grieves over a parental divorce for which she feels responsible, is abandoned by a noncommittal boyfriend, is fired for being “insufficiently committed,” laments her inadequacy as a friend, and most injurious, is cast aside by her much older Buddhist teacher and lover, Calvin. In short, Ellie is a mess. Is her suffering an opportunity, as her guru propounds, or justification for hopelessness? Unable to move forward, Ellie further endangers herself by trekking to Tibet to retrieve an artifact the guru covets to prove her worthiness. Yet the more she tries to liberate herself from her demons, she more she succumbs to their debilitating power. In notebooks and letters, Ellie vents her tangled emotions, enmeshing readers in the escalating turmoil. Will she find the love she seeks? Will she even survive? As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Brandt’s uncanny ability to channel her character’s obsessive rage and despair. On the surface, Ellie’s life is empty. But her inner life is a huge bundle of astute observations and inventive actions. Brandt’s vivid writing allows readers to accompany Ellie on her courageous search for the meaning of being.

Should we succumb to or surpass our suffering?

Why writers read: “Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.” – Annie Proulx