The Cue Card

Our area usually doesn’t come into full bloom until May but something neat has happened this spring in our neck of the woods. A great horned owl family has taken up residence in a nest in a tall tree down by the river and people around town have gotten word and are stopping by to watch this now-very popular family of five. There’s two parents, the mama owl near the nest and a papa not too far off, and three baby owlets who seem to be getting too big for their roost. They’re jostling about vying for space and at times flapping their wings, but haven’t flown the coop just yet.

It’s neat to see these birds so close on a daily basis, usually they’re pretty elusive birds that are most active at night. I’ve lived here for over 10 years and have never had such a good view of owls before. Now my dog and I walk by them each day to see what is new. We hope the owlets will survive and find their way in the world. Their parents have been great caregivers so far. They’re tough and make no mistake these birds are fierce predators that can take large prey, but so far we haven’t seen them during feeding hours so don’t know their full story. Still they are fun to watch in the daylight. Meanwhile I’ll leave you with a couple reviews of books I finished lately. 

Tim Johnston’s crime mystery “The Current” starts off with two college girls on a long road trip home who suffer an attack at a gas station and whose car gets knocked from behind by an unidentified truck into the icy waters of a Minnesota river, drowning one and injuring the other. It’s an incident that rattles the nearby hometown of one of the girl’s, which endured a similar tragedy of a teenage girl dying in the river 10 years before. The recent survivor comes to realize there’s connections between the two cases and begins to poke around into the prior murder, which was pinned on a boy who was ultimately not charged. 

Uh-oh. These kinds of icy, winter Minnesota mysteries are often hard for me to resist. And indeed I thought “The Current” had a more involved and better plot than the author’s 2015 acclaimed debut “The Descent,” which was a missing person, kidnap kind of story set in the mountains of Colorado. This one starts fast with the crime then turns into a slow burn of a novel about the injured girl and how other residents in her small hometown have been affected by the previous murder as they weathered years of suspicion, guilt, and grief. The accused boy and his family’s lives were changed forever as well as the lives of the victim’s family’s and the sheriff’s who was never able to get a conviction. Eventually the survivor girl is able to unravel enough secrets about that case and the town to get an arrest.

It’s a story, though while a slow burn, propelled me along quickly as I grappled with who and what were behind these crimes. It had a strong atmosphere of the town and the river, and the various characters felt like they had been through these tragedies. At times I wasn’t sure if the author was shooting for the novel to be literary fiction or crime fiction — it wavered between the two — as it went on at some length and manifested the various repercussions to the town folk. I liked it but thought it could’ve been edited shorter. The ending resolved one, but not fully both of the crimes, which didn’t really bother me as I felt that that is often the case, but if that bugs you, be forewarned. I will continue to read whatever the author puts out next as I think his crime novels are compelling and seem to be getting better. 

Thanks to Algonquin books for the e-galley they provided me for this review.

Next up, I listened to the audiobook of Leila Slimani’s novel “The Perfect Nanny,” which was picked by the New York Times as one of the Top 10 Books of 2018. The author was also awarded France’s most prestigious literary prize, the Goncourt, for the novel — the first Moroccan-born woman to win it — so I was keen to investigate. Apparently the book was a blockbuster in France but hasn’t taken off as much in the U.S. Still I was curious — though I went into it blind, not knowing much, and I was spit out the other side in a frightened fog. Holy smokes it’s dark! Need I say it’s inspired by a real crime that happened on the Upper West Side of New York in 2012, in which a nanny bludgeoned the family’s two children. Gawd I wondered after the first chapter — what was I doing. 

From the novel’s outset you know that a horrific crime has happened and who the perpetrator is but then you go back in time to get a sense of the mind-set and background of the nanny and her relationship with the family, especially with the mother. It’s a story, set in Paris, of Louise, who at first appears to be the quintessential nanny to Myriam and Paul’s two children. She does everything wonderfully: engage the children, clean the apartment, mend the clothes, cook the meals for the family. But in time as the married couple — Myriam, a lawyer, and Paul, a music executive — and the nanny become more dependent on one another, feelings of resentment and jealousy mount. The lonely Louise, who’s insinuated herself into all aspects of their lives, expects to be apart of their family, but the parents look to her services basically to care for their kids so that they can pursue their careers. 

Uh-oh. You begin to feel uneasy: this is not go to go well. In an unstable person, madness is never very far away. But the parents in the story are no angels either. That’s what’s so interesting about the novel. In the hands of a different writer, it would likely come off as a crime thriller like in “The Girl on the Train” genre or in the vein of a gruesome murder in the Scandinavian crime genre, yet this author writes it in such a way that explores various other issues as it builds and becomes more unsettling: such as motherhood, class, domesticity, working parents and mental illness. It’s not as much graphic as it is just the doom that builds in your own mind, knowing about its impending arrival. 

I found the novel well done, enough to give it 4.5 stars on Goodreads despite its very dark subject matter. Midway through, I began to ask who is this author and why have I never heard of her before, which is usually a sign that I find the writing pretty effective. It’s translated from French, so you might notice some language variances. But now that I know all about the insufferable Louise and the crime, I need to get them clearly out of my head for good. I used to like the name Louise but I’m not sure I can stomach it much anymore.  

That’s all for now, what about you have you read these novels and if so, what did you think?

I’ve been in Southern California this past week visiting my parents. My hub was here for awhile and we rode bikes, which was fun and scenic. Thanks to rain this past winter, it’s much more green here than in years past. My folks still live in the same house from when I was in first grade, if you can believe it. It’s in part of the “Inland Empire” area between Los Angeles and Palm Springs and boasts lots of lovely citrus and avocado trees, and gorgeous views of the mountains. It’s a nice, peaceful place to visit, and warmer than our Canadian environs, so I can’t complain.

Despite being here, I did not attend the huge Los Angeles Times Festival of Books over the weekend, which is the largest annual literary festival in the country with more than 150,000 visitors. I’ve always wanted to go but never quite made the trek and I sort of wonder if I’d be swallowed up by it and not spit out. Still, Rebecca Makkai won the L.A.Times Book Prize for fiction there for her novel “The Great Believers,” which I plan to get to. Speaking of literary prizes, congrats to author Richard Powers for winning this year’s Pulitzer Prize for fiction for his epic environmental novel “The Overstory,” about the life of trees and the people who understand them. Judy over at the blog Keep the Wisdom loved it and I’m curious sometime to test it out. “The Overstory’s” win gives a big boost to eco-novels everywhere, so I’m excited about that.

Meanwhile I finished a couple books lately that have been bantered about this year. First, I listened to the audiobook of Taylor Jenkins Reid’s novel “Daisy Jones & the Six,” about the rise and fall of an iconic 1970s rock band. Did you think I’d miss it? I grew up on classic rock in the ’70s and ’80s and have consumed a steady dose of various rock star memoirs and their lives of sex, drugs, & rock ’n roll. My brother still gives me a new rock bio each Christmas — whether it’s of The Doors, or Eric Clapton, or Robbie Robertson, or Janis Joplin, or whomever I’ve likely been glued at one time to their stories. If you like such tales, then this one is worth checking out.

As you might have heard, “Daisy Jones & the Six” is a novel written in an interview format that unfolds like an oral history of the band with all its various members and managers giving input into what happened. I found its structure really conducive to experiencing the novel as an audiobook. It follows chronologically and all the various characters — of which there are quite a few — are played by different people so you become familiar with their voices and they seem to really take on their roles. Their dialogue too plays off each other in a cool way. By the end, I was pretty convinced the band was real and the individuals were all apart of it … but alas, no, this is a novel after all. So I had to wake up and snap back to reality.

The story revolves around a band that reminded me a lot of Fleetwood Mac. There’s the core group out of Pittsburgh that begins with two brothers, the Dunne brothers, Billy and Graham, along with four other musicians, who come to make up The Six. Then in an interesting way a free-spirited young woman, Daisy Jones, joins the band when they move out to L.A. Like Fleetwood Mac, the band includes two female members: singer-songwriter Daisy and the keyboardist, Karen; there’s also at times similar infighting and in-sleeping among the group’s members.

Lead singer Billy, who’s trying to hang onto his sobriety and marriage, and new member, Daisy, at first differ a lot on artistic directions of songs, their words, and styles, but over time come to thrive on writing songs together. They have a creative chemistry, perhaps in my head a bit like Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham, or Lennon & McCartney for that matter. But while, author Taylor J. Reid says her inspiration for the band was a group like Fleetwood Mac, she also says such bands like the Eagles gave her much fodder to work with for the details, especially in their pitfalls. And believe me, Daisy and the other members have their share of drugs and misadventures.

It’s no secret Billy and Daisy’s band in the end break up, it’s set up that way from the beginning, but you wonder along the way how or why it happens. They hit a huge pinnacle of success after the band’s album “Aurora” comes out (a bit like Fleetwood Mac’s blockbuster “Rumors”), but then little cracks begin to deepen. The story takes a couple turns that kept it fresh enough, though you’ll probably guess the particulars. For the most part, I found the novel an enjoyable romp through the ’70s music scene and the life of a band. I liked the various characters and voices who made the story come to life via the audiobook. While a few parts might have been a bit cheesy, on the whole I was sad by the band’s end and nostalgic for those ’70s days when such music and stars reigned supreme. I hear the author might someday bring these characters back. What do you think, will there be a sequel, or just a movie?

Next up, I read Susan Choi’s novel “Trust Exercise,” which is a more complex book than any “Daisy Jones.” It’s broken up into three parts … overall it’s about teens at an esteemed performing arts high school in the 1980s whose teacher, Mr. Kingsley, puts them through some intense exercises and long production days, which will affect them and they’ll remember in different ways for the rest of their lives. The first part is told pretty straightforwardly about their high school days, and two teens in particular, Sarah and David, who get involved in a sexual relationship that is on again, off again, when Mr. Kingsley tags them for some of his class exercises. Uh-oh. Shortly after, an English-exchange troupe arrives at their school, and Sarah and her friend Karen get involved with two of the older guys from it.

Then it cuts to Part 2: which shifts to a dozen years later and to Karen’s point of view of her past at the school and in the present of her contact with the other alums. This section confused me with its use of Karen in the first person, as well as third person narrative, and I was like whaaa? But I kept going. In Part 2, Karen returns back to her hometown where her former classmate David is putting on a play, and in which she, Sarah and Karen’s former English beau get involved with. Uh-oh it’s the four of them again, confronting their old high school ties and days … in a final act that turns into a doozy. The book ends with a short coda from another character, only indirectly related.

It’s a novel that doesn’t exactly make you want to go back to high school again — with all the angst, hormones, embarrassment, and power plays at hand. The adults don’t seem to be acting any better than the kids, and the power and abuse in it are disturbing. I was reminded of people’s #MeToo moments. It offers up various characters who seem to remember things and confront their memories about those times differently.

It’s an ambitious novel with a lot to think about and the author writes well, but I didn’t find it exactly enjoyable — because of the flawed characters and place for one thing — nor was it an easy read. There’s not much dialogue or paragraph breaks in it and the narrative changes threw me a bit. You have to work for this one! Still Susan Choi is a talented writer with plenty of insight and turns of phrases about high school life and these characters that gave me enough to make it worth it. I’m sure her novels in the future will continue to challenge readers like this and push the envelope so to speak.

*Thanks to Grazia at Henry Holt Books for sending me a copy of “Trust Exercise” to review. 

That’s all for now. What about you — have you read either of these books and if so, what did you think? Lastly, I just want to pass along my utmost sympathies to the people of France and everyone for the awful fire at the Notre Dame Cathedral. I just couldn’t believe it, so horrible to hear. We had passed the Cathedral last summer on our trip. Feels emotional to see such flames on such an iconic, historic and beloved place.

Wow what a difference a couple weeks make. Our temps seem to have soared from single digits to 60 degrees this month, and now we have ponds of snowmelt all over the place. Spring appears to have sprung for the moment, and Frosty the snow pile is headed out. Or is it? I’m sure winter will try to make a come back a few more times here, but it won’t last long now. We are in the homestretch. Say goodbye winter.

The start of spring can feel truly amazing … and yet there’s news of epic flooding in other parts of the world that look truly devastating — in the Midwest for one, and especially in Mozambique and Zimbabwe right now due to a cyclone. So my thoughts are scattered at the moment on everything from the basketball of March Madness to sheer catastrophe.

Which reminds me:  If you’re feeling stressed about something these days: work, bills, house, politics, the state of the world, then perhaps familiarize yourself with the Dammit Doll. Have you seen these? My sister gave me one years ago when I was following a losing football team. The Dolls are made to be whacked about against a sofa or wall so you can feel better and let your stress or anger go. The instructions say as you whack the stuffing out, it helps to yell: “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” I think the company that makes them is out of California, where someone apparently has a good sense of humor. I got a new one this past Christmas, pictured at left, of our current occupant in the White House. Let’s just say, it’s helped me out quite a bit these past months relieving stress … that is, when my dog isn’t trying to pull it apart. And now, I’ll leave you with a couple reviews of what I finished lately.     

I feel like I’m on the bandwagon with this one, liking Michelle Obama’s memoir “Becoming” very much. It came out in November and I’ve inundated myself with it the past couple of weeks, first listening to the audiobook of it read by the author, then reading the hardback copy, so I could note some of its passages. I know it quite well now. I liked both formats but would especially recommend the audio version as Michelle’s reading of it is pretty illuminating. Her varying inflections and slow thoughtful reading of it make her story come to life and give more resonance to what she wrote.

It’s not an overtly political book — nor merely PR fluff — about the Red and Blue states and whose policies are the best and what she accomplished under the administration, though there’s some of that at the end, instead it focuses more on her life story, her family, and how she was shaped by her upbringing and those close to her. There’s also some juicy parts about the presidential campaigns and her time in the White House that come to light. So what more do you want — the book is a behind-the-scenes look at history told in interesting detail from an accomplished African American woman, reflecting back on her experience. As she writes: “I’m an ordinary person who found herself on an extraordinary journey.” 

Indeed it was. From a working-class family on the South Side of Chicago (whose parents did not go to college) to attending Princeton and Harvard Law School, she was an overachiever, a box checker she says, who met her future husband while being a mentor to him as a summer associate at a Chicago law firm. Oh yeah. Barack comes off like a nerdy prodigy, not a happy hour kind of guy, but one from a far-off family with a different, mixed background. Her family, on the other hand, was Michelle’s home base, forever on the South Side’s Euclid Avenue, where she lived even during her working life after law school.  

Michelle and Barack were like yin to each other’s yang, so she writes. She liked order and routine, he gravitated toward mess and chaos. He felt a calling for politics, she felt the opposite. He was from Hawaii, she had never been West. Their lives were busy and loaded with work and projects. At one point, she says they sought marriage counseling. At another point she talks about them wanting children, but they had to go through IVF for the pregnancies of both daughters. You get a sense that their lives were quite a handful even before he became a state senator and eventually a U.S. senator, traveling to D.C. while Michelle stayed behind in Chicago. She was not a big fan of the political circus life, or of his life taking over her career. Yet ultimately she did not want to stand in his way. 

She writes about trying to balance being a wife and a mother, and working full time. And later, about getting onboard Barack’s run for the presidency and campaigning for him in Iowa and elsewhere. She elaborates on the perception she got of being an “angry black female” and a “radical” on the campaign, which is illuminating. She comes off being more of a pragmatist and a family person than any kind of radical. Both Michelle and Barack were also touched by tragedies: Michelle’s father, who suffered from multiple sclerosis, died when she was in her first job after law school, and her close college roommate, age 26, died around the same time. While Barack’s parents were both dead by the time he became a state senator. So they shared similar losses and adversities, yet were endeared to each other, their remaining families, and high-powered jobs.  

You’ll just have to read it, if you haven’t already: as Michelle’s view of Election Night in 2008 and her family’s subsequent years in the White House are definitely worth the price of admission. You’ll want to find out what living in the White House was like, with their daughters, and how things played out there. Michelle also talks about her health initiatives for kids, her work with Jill Biden to help military families, and the vegetable garden she started on the White House lawn. There’s not many swipes at political opponents, like the Bushes, or John McCain, though there are a few pointed ones at Trump: “I will always wonder,” she writes, “about what led so many women, in particular, to reject an exceptionally qualified candidate and instead choose a misogynist as their president.” Me too, Michelle, me too.

I guess in general the book made me like the Obamas a bit more. I had already been fans of them but now I felt I understood them and their humble backgrounds a bit better. Michelle’s grace, dignity, and intelligence shine through in this memoir, which seems a pretty candid look back. She’s not out to settle scores, but more in it to highlight her journey. Here’s one passage I found particularly on point:  

“The president-elect, I learned, is given access to $100,000 in federal funds to help with moving and redecorating, but Barack insisted that we pay for everything ourselves, using what we’d saved from his book royalties. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been this way: extra-vigilant when it comes to matters of money and ethics, holding himself to a higher standard than even what’s dictated by law. There’s an age-old maxim in the black community: You’ve got to be twice as good to get half as far. As the first African American family in the White House, we were being viewed as representatives of our race. Any error or lapse in judgment, we knew, would be magnified, read as something more than what it was.”  

— Michelle Obama in “Becoming,”  Page 295

Next up, I finished Maine author Susan Conley’s slim novel “Elsey Come Home” that came out in January. It’s a bit of a different, meditative kind of novel, told in the first person, about a woman who’s struggling in her life, to find a balance between being a wife, a parent to two young daughters, and a successful painter. She and her family are expats living in Beijing, China, when her Danish husband suggests she go on a one week group yoga retreat to the mountains to stop her alcoholic drinking. 

Elsey’s afraid she will lose her marriage and family, so she grudgingly goes on the retreat, where she meets a number of other people with similar problems. There she appears to be on the verge of a breakdown and is grasping to work through issues from her past (her sister’s death in childhood) and her present (her drinking and the balancing of being a parent with being an artist). You have to keep reading to see whether Elsey can reclaim her life and keep her family in tact. As it went on, the more I became involved in her plight to hold on and turn her downward spiral around. 

I guess I can best describe it as a meditative, expat novel that talks about far away places and the heart strings of family connections. It’s a sparsely told story that sort of sneaked up on me. Elsey’s two kids (and even her husband), who she so adores and await her return from the retreat, are so well done in the book, that you find yourself rooting hard, despite her seemingly unyielding slide, for a positive ending. I’m not sure I always thought Elsey was that likable or relatable, but I did sympathize with her to some extent. In the end, I found it an oddly moving tale about love of family and place.  

That’s all for now. What about you — have you read these books, and if so, what did you think? 

Hi all. We arrived back recently from NYC and had a good time, seeing many neat sights. The one at left is taken from Brooklyn after we disembarked the ferry and looked back to Manhattan. We had some sunny days and snow too, but the temps in the 30s were all pretty easy to us Canadians. We stayed in the Midtown area and got around everywhere by subway and walking, which worked out well. Apparently, our hotel, the Barclay, was where Ernest Hemingway worked on the final revisions of his novel “For Whom the Bell Tolls” after he returned from Spain with his fiancee and fellow war correspondent Martha Gellhorn. The book rests proudly on display in the lobby. I just thought you might like that literary tidbit. Poor Gellhorn and Papa, their love didn’t work out quite as well. 

Besides Brooklyn, we visited Central Park, and toured the Guggenheim Museum, and the 9/11 Memorial & Museum, which is quite gut-wrenching. We saw a Sam Shepard play on Broadway called “True West,” starring Paul Dano and Ethan Hawke, which we didn’t really love, but still it was a thrill to see close-up.

And of course we visited a couple of bookstores, including the Strand and a rare bookstore called Argosy. Little did I know that I would see that same bookstore featured in the movie “Can You Ever Forgive Me?” on the flight home, but there it was the same one we visited. Apparently the real Lee Israel, who the character is based on, stole some letters that she sold to Argosy bookstore so she could pay her cat’s vet bill. It’s a true story that became part of the movie. 

Anyways what also was terrific was making a trek to find “The Falconer” statue, which we knew was somewhere within Central Park. It was the name of Dana Czapnik’s debut, coming-of-age novel that I was reading and had brought with me on the trip — about a smart 17-year-old girl who lives for basketball and is in her final year of high school in New York City, circa 1993. More on the book in a minute, but I was on a quest to find the statue.

My husband had a map and after a bunch of walking we had “The Falconer” in our sights (see my photo at left). As the novel notes: it’s a statue of a young boy in tights with muscular legs, releasing a bird, the falcon’s wings in the midst of opening. The character in the book, Lucy Adler, says she’s always loved it for the skyward feeling it embodies like a perfect jump-shot, and she’s envious that there are statues like this made of boys but none of girls. “Why,” Lucy muses, “can’t girls with muscular legs in leggings stand on a hilltop and release a bird?” 

It’s a fitting symbol for this coming-of-age novel, told in the first person. Lucy is athletic and soon to graduate, she’s trying to figure out her plans — whether she will leave her beloved city and where she stands in her young life. She’s in love with her basketball buddy Percy, who seems oblivious to her feelings despite hanging out with her everyday. Lucy silently agonizes as Percy goes through a string of girlfriends. When she’s not with him, she reflects on her feelings and the city, while meandering around Manhattan with her basketball teammate Alexis and meeting up often with two female artist friends in SoHo, who advise her about life, love, and art. 

For the most part, I enjoyed this novel. I was particularly impressed by how well the author captures the few basketball playing scenes in the book. Lucy’s a great player and those were among my favorite parts of the book — of her playing pick-up games and with her high school team, along with the details about New York and the parts with Percy. I kept hoping she and Percy would get together, but you don’t find out till the end whether they do, or which direction Lucy and Percy will go in after graduation. I liked spending time with Lucy. She’s a smart girl, who learns a bit about herself, life, and feminism along the way.

My only hesitancy about the novel was at times it felt rather plotless as Lucy wanders around the city, meeting up with people, a couple of whom (like the two artists) didn’t really hold my interest. I kept wanting to get back to the main story about her and Percy and whether she could handle or grow from this stage in her life. Despite these reservations, I thought  much of the writing about Lucy was quite beautiful and well done. Some reviewers even speculated Lucy could be compared to such New York protagonists as Francie in “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” or Holden in “The Catcher in the Rye.” To me, that seems a bit of a stretch, but still it’s a novel in that kind of genre.  

Next up, I read a book I bought at the Strand bookstore called: “Dreyer’s English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style” by Benjamin Dreyer.  I know it sounds dry (especially since I was reading it on the flight back), but I’m one of those types that will read grammar and usage manuals every time a new notable one comes out. The last one I read was Mary Norris’s 2016 book “Between You & Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen,” which was great, about the author’s years on the copy desk at The New Yorker. Like that one, this new book is a little part memoir and also a reference manual on grammar and style usage by a veteran editor who happens to be the copy chief at Random House. I had heard about his new book when it was featured on the New York Times book podcast recently. 

As a former newspaper copy editor, I knew “Dreyer’s English” would be right up my alley and indeed it was. Even though the author describes many of the same rules about punctuation, grammar, and style that I’m already familiar with, I’m always keen to brush up on knowing them, or finding out if there’s anything new to learn (see all my sticky notes in the book photo). Apparently this author meandered into his profession nearly three decades ago, learning it on the job over the years as he observed copyediting, how it was done and how writers responded to it.

Dreyer takes a refreshing, often witty look at old rules and which ones can be broken and which can not. He has chapters on Tidying Up Your Prose and 67 Assorted Things to Do (and Not to Do) with Punctuation, and the treatment of numbers and foreign words. There’s lists on commonly misspelled proper nouns, and lists of words that are often confused, such as: imply vs. infer, discreet vs. discrete, and hanged vs. hung, etc. He has a chapter on his language pet peeves that includes commonly misused words and redundant words strung together that can be deleted. He has a few cool anecdotes about authors he’s edited and their language quirks, though I wish there would have been more of these throughout the book. 

I pretty much agreed with most of the style/grammar rules he writes about, including his firm belief in using the serial comma on items in a list, such as: apples, oranges, and bananas. Though I thought his style on numbers a bit too loosey-goosey compared to how they are done in newspapers, which are spelled out up to nine and written as numerals thereafter. In book publishing numbers are mostly spelled out but are also seen as numerals in various cases. Hmpf, there seems less of a system there.

The author also adds many tiny footnotes at the bottom of each page in the book, which was not my cup of tea. I’d rather he had added them into the text so I could have noted what he wanted to say much more easily. Despite these reservations, I thought the book was a helpful, witty, and solid guide that goes into many of the pesky particulars on everything from apostrophes to dashes to semicolons to dangling modifiers, and beyond. If you want to brush up on your writing, definitely check it out.

PS. This blog is meant to be casual when it comes to writing style and punctuation. I’m sure I’ve made various grammar mistakes over the years here, though I try not to. One thing you might wonder is why I put book and movie titles in quotation marks instead of in italics like the rest of the publishing world. It’s because in newspapers, where I worked, they were always placed in quotation marks, which was drummed into my skull. That’s just one of a number of differences you’ll see between the print in publishing vs. in journalism. Someday I figure I’ll be due for a change on this.

That’s all for now, what about you — have you read either of these, and if so, what did you think? Or what’s your favorite place in New York? Maybe it’s the Guggenheim Museum that’s pictured above.    

Greetings from the cold frontier. It appears February does not really want to cooperate with being friendly. Has your polar vortex disappeared yet?  Ours is still ongoing and we look to have our second weekend coming up with well below 0F temps. I’ve been donning my winter space suit to walk the dog, which appears to be working until I have to use my hands and take off my big mitts for brief moments. That can be ouch-worthy. Best bet is to have the husband do the dog-walking on the weekends. As for our yellow Labrador Stella — aka the book assistant — she never fully admits it’s cold outside and duly wants her walks as previously scheduled. She must have some insulation about her. After all, Labs like her are built to retrieve in cold water.

In book news this week, it appears that author A.J. Finn — aka Dan Mallory — sure took a beating after a New Yorker article revealed that the author of the bestselling thriller “The Woman in the Window” has lied about a whole lot of things in his own life …. including that he had cancer, that his mother had died of cancer, and that his brother had taken his own life. All of which are apparently untrue. Yikes. Why does one try to elicit sympathy in such a way? It seems a bit ill. I guess Mallory has admitted his lies and apologized now, but the uproar sure has lit up social media and the like. I wonder if it will put a damper on the movie adaptation of his book due out in October 2019, starring Amy Adams and Gary Oldman. Egads you can’t be too happy if you’re putting up the money for the film. And now I’ll leave you with a few reviews of what I finished lately.   

Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday (2018) 271 pages, paperback, from the library

Synopsis:  The novel has three separate parts to it: The first is about a young American editor (Alice) who’s an inspiring novelist — and her relationship with a famous, much older writer named Ezra Blazer (based loosely on Philip Roth who the author once had a relationship with). The very different second part is narrated by Amar, an Iraqi-American post-doc who, on his way to visit his brother in Kurdistan in 2008, is detained by immigration officers and spends the weekend in a holding room in Heathrow having flashbacks of his family’s past. And the last part is an interview of the same Ezra Blazer that along the way indirectly confirms how the parts of the story correlate.

My Thoughts:  This novel — hailed as one of the 10 Best Books of 2018 by the New York Times and various other publications — is quite a puzzle about how the three parts link together. I guess I didn’t really know that going in, so I wasn’t really on the lookout, hunting for subtle clues like I should have been in high school English class. So alas I blew it a bit … that indeed it’s a bit of an exercise or look at the creative process. 

Instead I was pulled in by the first section, about this young mid-20s girl — Alice (as in Wonderland) — who’s working in publishing and seeing this famous older author (Ezra) who must be like late 60s or 70. Gosh all I could think about was the author’s one-time relationship with Philip Roth and whether this all was true. Though apparently the author has cautioned against reading this section as total autobiography … so much was invented she says … but still (!) It’s a bit endearing and funny their banter — these two writers of mixed ages who seem to fit well with their preoccupation with fiction, old tunes, baseball watching, and sex. A bit icky or weird though too with their ages and his health issues, and he being a mentor.

The second part of the novel is totally different about this Iraqi-American post-doc (Amar) stuck at Heathrow Airport having flash backs to days with his family in Iraq and the war — I didn’t really see how this fit, but I really felt for him. And the third part about an interview with the author Ezra was interesting too but once again I was a bit clueless to its link… though there are clues, some of which I questioned along the way. 

Still it wasn’t till after reading about the novel that its main mystery was revealed to me and what the novel was seeking to do. In retrospect, in understanding it more, I liked it better and thought it was quite clever … about writing and how it can transport one across boundaries. That’s all I will say, if you like literary puzzles then go for it. As one reviewer  at the New York Times said: “Asymmetry is not complicated, but it cannot be read complacently. Like it or not, it will make you a better reader, a more active noticer. It hones your senses.” It’s enough to make me want to watch for her next book.

Descent by Tim Johnston (2015) 384 pages, hardback, from the library

Synopsis:  The story follows the fracturing of a family following the disappearance of the 18-year-old daughter during a Colorado vacation. Caitlin is about to enter college on a track scholarship when she fails to come back from an early morning run with her brother who is found injured. Over the course of the next two years, the parents and the brother each go through their own troubles as no sign of Caitlin is found. 

My Thoughts:  This is another missing person/abduction kind of story, whose genre I’m sort of tiring of. I think I picked this one up because of the hype and because the author has a new novel out called “The Current” to compare it with. I was also interested in its Rocky Mountain setting, where I once lived. I read the novel pretty quickly though it does jump around a bit among the characters and the italic parts (some of which it has throughout) are always a bit of a chore on the eyes. 

I thought it was a decent thriller though a couple things bugged me along the way: for one, the brother and father stay in Colorado to apparently keep searching for their sister/daughter yet they never seem to do any searching or none is described. I understand the story comes after the initial months of searching, still I was freaked about keeping up the search. I would’ve torn that mountain apart, from top to bottom. Meanwhile the characters sort of whine, meander, get in trouble, and fall apart. 

Another thing, there’s so much smoking in the book; everyone is smoking though the missing girl apparently was a great runner and was granted a college scholarship for track, yet all of her relatives are big smokers. Really? I guess it’s to show stress. But blah, one more mention of lighting a cigarette by so-so in the book and I would’ve tossed it across the room into the fire. There’s your cigarette.

Though I guess I liked the part about the town bully guy, Billy, doing some good toward the end of the story, which felt a bit redeeming. The novel has some things going for it that I liked — a suspense that builds around some definable family characters, but I also felt it had some things that hindered it. So for me it was half and half.  

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite (2018), 240 pages, audiobook

 Synopsis:  You guessed it, the novel is about two sisters in Nigeria — the pretty, younger sister Ayoola is the one who has a habit of killing her boyfriends (the last three) and the older sister Korede (a nurse at the hospital) is the one who cleans up the mess and keeps it under wraps. But when a doctor, Korede is in love with, falls for her sister, she must reckon with what her sister has become and how far she’s willing to go to protect her.  Uh-oh.

My Thoughts:  Yes this novel has made the round on blogs already and I’m on the bandwagon about it being favorable as well.  I thought it was clever and I liked its ending. The older sister narrator, Korede, has a sardonic world-weary voice that makes the telling of this “black widow” tale appealing. It’s hard to even explain — how something so awful and serious of a novel about a sister’s killings — can be construed as light and refreshing as well. Say what??? There’s various degrees and emotions in this story, from: deadpan humor to guilt and heartfelt truth-seeking and love. Korede is trying to save the day and come up with answers. She sure can clean a car transporting a body better than those guys did in “Pulp Fiction.” I know I’ll never look at bleach the same way again. 

All the while the novel is told in short snappy chapters that keep things moving. By the end, you find out why these sisters are so bound together …. from their childhood. They really have each other’s backs. I was impressed by the sibling aspect of this novel, as well as the story’s wit and its turns, and its Nigerian setting. 

What about you — have you read any of these novels — and if so, what did you think?