All the Light We Cannot See

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by Anthony Doerr
First sentence: “At dusk they pour from the sky.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: There is some graphic (read: Nazi) violence and about a half-dozen f-bombs. It’s not a difficult read, even for it’s length, and if there’s a teen interested in WWII, it would be a good one to give. It’s in the adult fiction section of the bookstore.

I’ve kind of been avoiding this one. It was a slow build, but eventually EVERYONE was reading this. And we all know how much I love reading books that everyone is reading. (Not.) At least when it comes to adult books, anyway. I just don’t trust Everyone. (No interest in Gone Girl. Or The Girl on the Train. At. All.)

But this was picked for my in-person book group, and so I was kind of obligated to read it. I didn’t go in expecting much of anything, so I was pleasantly surprised when the chapters were short. And the story was engaging. And that the 500+ page book wasn’t one that was going to bog me down.

In fact, if I dare say this: I enjoyed it. Immensely.

This is, at its simplest, the story of two kids, a blind French girl and an orphan German boy, during World War II. Werner, the boy, is an orphan resigned to growing up in this mining town, working the mines, even though he’s a technical genius. Then, he gets drafted into the German Army, which in 1939 isn’t the happiest place. Marie-Laure is a French girl, living in Paris, with her father who works at the Museum of Natural History. When the Germans invade, they end up in Saint-Malo with Marie-Laure’s great-uncle Etienne. Then her father gets called back to Paris and goes “missing”. Their stories meet, finally, in August 1944, when the town of Saint-Malo is set on fire.

The story, however, is immaterial in this book. No, what’s important, I think are the characters. They way they interconnect with each other, with themselves. And the little acts of goodness — of light — that thread throughout the book. It’s a very dark time, World War II, but this is an incredibly hopeful book. Its short chapters are lyrical and evocative, and the suspense building up to August 1944 — every section or so, Doerr gives us a glimpse of what is happening — is palpable.

My only real complaint is that I could have done without the two epilogues, one in 1974 and the other in 2014. I felt no need to know what the characters were up to after the story ended, and it felt forced and not nearly as emotional as the rest of the book. But that’s a small complaint in the wake of the story.

Trigger Warning

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by Neil Gaiman
First sentence: “There are things that upset us.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy snagged from the ARC shelves at my place of employment.
Content: This collection is fairly tame, ranging from simpler stories to more complex ones. I’d give it to anyone who has the attention span long enough to get through the stories and who likes short works of speculative fiction. It’s in the science fiction/fantasy section of the bookstore.

I like Neil Gaiman’s writing. I do. I even actually think I like his short stories better than his longer works of fiction. But I think what I like best is listening to the audio of him reading his work. It’s only then that I feel I “get” what he’s trying to say.

Which means, that while I enjoyed this work of short fiction — and I did love some of the stories immensely. Namely, “The Thing about Cassandra” and “The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains” and “A Calendar of Tales” (September fits me quite nicely) and “The Sleeper and the Spindle”. All were elegant and lovely and charming and thoroughly enjoyable.

But there was something missing. And, thinking back on it, that something was Gaiman reading his own stories, enrapturing me with his interpretation of the written word.

Perhaps, then my enjoyment would have crossed over into love.

Eddie Red Undercover: Mystery in Mayan Mexico

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by Marcia Wells
First sentence: “I’m back.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Content: There’s some mild violence and some mild romance (it’s not a kissing book), but the language/chapter length level works for the younger readers as well as the older ones in the age range. It’s in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

I had a woman in the store the other day, looking for a Harriet the Spy-type mystery for a 10-year-old boy, who wanted something with intrigue and adventure. (They’d already read Harriet the Spy, or I would have given them that.)  Thankfully, I had just finished this one, so I had a great, middle grade mystery with intrigue and adventure to hand to the customer. (Bonus: this is the second, but you don’t need to read the first at all!)

Edmund (call him Eddie, please!) and his family are in need of a vacation. He’d just gotten done being grounded (for events in the previous book), and his mother was given a vacation/opportunity to go to a conference. In Mexico. Sounds delightful, no? Especially since Eddie’s best friend, Jonah, was along for the ride. But once there, an ancient mask that’s on display at the hotel is stolen and Eddie’s father is blamed for the theft. So, it’s up to Eddie, Jonah and their new friend, Julia, to solve the crime and find the real thief.

I really did thoroughly enjoy this one. It’s well-paced, with intrigue, suspense, and action, as Eddie and Jonah follow the twists and turns through this mystery. I liked that they were reasonable kids, doing reasonable things, and that aside from Eddie’s photographic memory and artistic skillz, they’re pretty normal kids.

But what I really liked is that Eddie is an African American kid, and its not an issue. At all. In fact, it’s not something I even realized (shame on me?) until I was about a third of the way through. It’s a diverse cast, being set in Mexico, and it’s not something that’s pointed out. It just is. Which is always nice.

A good, refreshingly solid, middle grade book.

Willy Maykit in Space

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by Greg Trine
First sentence: “When Willy Maykit was three years old, his father went on an African safari and came home with amazing stories of lions, tigers, and bears.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Content: It’s on the simpler end of things, language-wise. Short chapter, easier words. Good for reluctant and younger readers. It’s in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

Willy Maykit has exploring in his blood: his father was a fantastically adventuresome explorer. The problem is that he went missing in the Amazon a year ago. And so, Willy’s problem is getting his mother to let him go on the field trip to Planet Ed. Of course, she lets him  (or there wouldn’t be a book), and of course he, and another friend, get left on this strange planet (that looks a lot like Colorado), Of course they have adventures and fight monsters. Of course they get rescued (sort of). And, of course, the book is filled with knock knock jokes and silly puns.

(My favorite? The book Yellow River, by I. P. Freely.)

It’s a silly premise for a silly book. And you know what? It totally works. Especially if you’re 8 years old at heart. (And even if you’re not, it’s a good punny book.) No, it’s not Deep with well-drawn characters or a good plot, but it is Fun, and sometimes, that’s what counts.

I Will Always Write Back

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by Caitlin Alifirenka, Martin Ganda, and Liz Welch
First sentence: “I’d never heard of Zimbawe.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: It’s a non-fiction book that deals with teens, and so there’s some mention of teen drinking and pot smoking, but for the most part it’s pretty harmless. It’ll be in the middle readers biography section, though I’d hesitate giving it to the younger end of the readers. I think it’ll be best for grades 5 and up.

In the fall of 1997, Caitlin Stoicsitz made an impromptu decision that changed multiple lives. She raised her hand to get a pen pal, and her letter was sent to Martin Ganda in Zimbabwe. You wouldn’t think something as simple as that would be life-changing, but it was. Caitlin’s letter got sent to a small, rural school in Mutare, and by chance Martin, who was one of the best students in class, was on the receiving end. He wrote back, and that was the beginning of what became a deep friendship for them. And because of that friendship, Caitlin was able to change Martin’s life, to give him the opportunities — especially educational — that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. For what seems like mere pittance, Caitlin (and eventually her whole family) was able to pay Martin’s fees for school (especially since his father was out of work) and help him get into a U. S. College. That doesn’t sound like a whole lot, but as you get to know both Caitlin and Martin over the course of the book, you realize that it IS.

In return, Martin gave Caitlin something that many Americans desperately need: a view of how everyone else lives. Compassion for the downtrodden, and a knowledge that we really, truly are privileged in America.

Like many memoirs, this one is uneven. It’s chatty, and sometimes Caitlin’s narrative borders on whiny, neither of which might bother the intended audience, but kind of grated on me. I also felt like there was a bit of the “American savior swoops in to save the day” which also kind of grated.

But I do honestly believe that Caitlin and Martin have a bond, and I do believe that writing and responding to the letters, when one truly cares and when one is open to other ideas, can change lives.

And this book is a good reminder of that.

State of the TBR Pile: April 2015

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It’s truly out of control this month, but there is a good reason. Well, one good reason: I’ve added books that I need to have read before the ABA Children’s institute next week in Pasadena. To which I’m going. (And very excited about. I’m also planning on making time to get to the beach. Which I am also very excited about.) And so, those take precedence. But I’ve also grabbed a few at the library which I need/want to read and that’s pushing the backlist ones further down. Thankfully, I’ve got plane flights coming up (I love reading on plane flights; I get so much of it done), and I’m hoping I can knock out a bunch of these.

Circus Mirandus, by Cassie Beasley
Bayou Magic, by Jewell Parker Rhodes
Not if I See You First, by Eric Lindstrom
The Thing About Jellyfish, by Ali Benjamin
The Wrath & the Dawn, by Renee Ahdieh
Skyscraping, by Cordelia Jensen
Black Dove White Raven, by Elizabeth Wein
Roller Girl, by Victoria Jamieson
Bone Gap, by Laura Ruby
The Darkest Part of the Forest, by Holly Black
I’ll Meet You There, by Heather Demetrios
The Golden Specific, by S. E. Grove
Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares, by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan (I’m starting to doubt that I’m going to read this one)
Jinx’s Fire, by Sage Blackwood
Moonpenny Island, by Tricia Springstubb
The Kidney Hypothetical, by Lisa Yee
The Door in the Moon, by Catherine Fisher (I really need to read this one!)

What’s on your TBR pile this month?

The Trap

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by Steven Arntson
First sentence: “The last day of summer break before the start of my seventh grade year was the first time I ever got punched in the face.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Content: It’s some pretty dark subject matter — kidnapping and out-of-body experiences. Plus there’s romance, but nothing too mature. It’s in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore, though it’ll probably be of interest to the older end (and maybe into the 6th grade).

It’s the summer of 1963, right before seventh grade, and Henry Nilsson is pretty sure nothing exciting is going to happen. His dad is being laid off at the railroad and they’re having to tighten their belts at home (they even sold the TV!). Henry like-likes his twin sister’s best friend, Nikki, but has no idea what to tell him. And his best friend, Alan’s, brother bullying has increased.

Then, two things happen to change the trajectory of Henry’s summer: Alan’s brother goes missing. And they discover a book to teach them how to have an out-of-body experience, called “subtle” travel. Once they figure out how, they enter the subtle world, where things aren’t as nice as they seem. And where there’s some pretty scary things going on in them thar woods.

On the one hand, I enjoyed this one. I liked the historical detail, which was never the point of the book, but rather just background to give it some weight. I liked the friendship between Henry and the rest, including his sister. I liked that both Nikki and Alan were people of color — Nikki is Asian; Alan, Latino — but that it was never really an issue. (Well, it is, once.) I liked the mystery, the discovery of what was going on with Alan’s brother, and the realization that even though he’s often mean, he has some good in him.

What I didn’t like was the whole speculative fiction part of it. The subtle travel was weird (Seriously.) and I was never really able to suspend my disbelief enough to make it work for me. There was just too much left underdeveloped, that was just plain weird.

But, perhaps, those are adult concerns creeping into a middle grade book. It is a dark book, one that’s kind of creepy, and for those who like a slight creep factor to their book, it’s a good one. And perhaps, the positives outweigh the negatives.

Life from Scratch

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by Sasha Martin
First sentence: “This is not the book I meant to write.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy picked up from the Random House rep.
Content: She didn’t have an easy upbringing and she doesn’t hold back on that. But, other than that, it’s suitable for anyone who’s interested in a culinary memoir. It’s in the biography section (for lack of a better place; it also fits in our creative non-fiction, which is kind of a catch-all) of the bookstore.

I know I’ve told y’all how much I love foody books How much they feed my soul, and how, when they’re wonderful, they just make me happy. Last time our Random House rep came to the store, he held this one out and said it’s a food memoir, I snatched it. I took too long getting to it, though: it wasn’t until it actually came in (the actual cover is so much more appealing than the ARC cover, trust me) and I actually read the first sentence, that I knew I would love this book.

Sasha had a hard life. Seriously. The daughter of a single mom struggling to get by in Boston, she and her older brother, Michael, didn’t know how hard their life was. They had Mom, they had each other and as far as they were concerned, things were good. Then the state decided that what they had wasn’t enough, and sent them into the foster system. Which, in the late-80s, was a terrible place to be. Sasha’s mom, however, was — is — an incredibly concerned and passionate person, and she fought to get them back. However, the state (I can see people’s objections to the state here) deemed their mother unfit, and decided that the kids needed to be raised elsewhere. Sasha recounts her mom sending out tons of letters, looking for a home for her children. And it was an old friend and her husband who took on the burden of raising the children.

You might be wondering what all this has to do with food? Well, the one thing that kept Sasha going throughout her life was a love of food and cooking. Her mother is Italian and Hungarian and she believed in the power of community coming together to eat, so very early on, Sasha helped out in the kitchen.

Her years with the friends weren’t happy. She missed her mother. Her brother committed suicide. Which propelled Sasha into a life of drinking and drugs and avoidance. The upside was that the family moved to Europe, so Sasha was exposed to culture there. So, when she finally landed on her feet, after years, in Oklahoma (I’m condensing here; there’s a lot going on), she decides that what she needs to do is cook her way around the world.

Sasha’s a compelling writer, telling her story with love and understanding, when no one would have faulted her for being bitter. She was angry at her mother for years, but somehow forged a new relationship with her. And I loved how this city girl found solace in a smaller community, finding the interesting and unique things about Tulsa. (She actually made Tulsa sound like a pretty cool place.) But the best thing, hands down, about this was the food. Sasha has a way of making the food leap off the page, of capturing not only the flavor of every day dishes, but also of the exotic ones she made from around the world.

It’s a delightful book, one that I’m sure will stay with me for a long, long time.

Genuine Sweet

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by Faith Harkey
First sentence: “Genuine Sweet.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy sent by the publisher.
Content: There’s a bit too much lovey-dovey stuff than I like for books this age (they kiss a bit and hold hands). Even so, it’s really a middle grade novel, so it’ll be in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

I’m a sucker for small town Southern books. (Unlike Ms. Yingling, who loathes them.) I love the small community feel, the quirkyness, and you throw in a bit of magical realism and I’m sold.

Genuine Sweet has all of that. She lives in a small town in Alabama where everyone knows everyone’s business, so that means everyone knows that her daddy is a drunk. Genuine’s (pronounced gen-u-wine) grandma takes care of her, since her mother’s dead, and it turns out that a gift runs in the female side of the family: wish fetching. They don’t grant them, per se, they sing to the stars and fetch the star juice (for lack of a better word) and give it to people who need things. The one cardinal rule: they can’t grant any for themselves.

So, burdened with this knowledge, Genuine sets out to make life a little better for those in the town. But, even as she does so, things get worse at home. No money, no food, no electricity. And as word gets out about her wish fetching Genuine has more and more pressure to fill them ALL. Which takes a toll.

On the one hand, quirky Southern charm. It was very sweet and very Southern, and I liked the way the magic worked: nothing major, nothing huge, just small little helps that fit in with the mood of the book.

But, even with all the quirkyness and the Southerness and the magic, I didn’t absolutely love this book. Partially, because I thought the romance between Genuine and Travis was a bit, well, out of place in a book aimed toward the younger set. And the drunk dad was pretty unnecessary. As was the angry, bitter woman who opposed Geunine’s wish fetching. And all of that added up to make me like, but not thoroughly enjoy this one.

It was a good book, but I think it could have been so much better.

First Sunday Daughter Reviews: April 2015

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Happy Easter! (Happy Spring! Happy — belated — Passover! Happy whatever you celebrate!) We had a storm blow through a couple days ago, and lost power, but we’re back on and at our house (after spending a night at our friends’ house). It’s not as sunny and warm as I’d like it, but as it is not snowing (here), I’m calling it a win.

I found this at the library and gave it to K.

She says “it was very bad and very good. Bad because all her friends ditched her because she went to roller camp. Good because I found it interesting and the story was really good.”  She doesn’t recommend it wholeheartedly, but it did make her think. (Even if it is a “comic book” — yes, her teacher still has banned them. Ugh.)

A read this:

It caught her eye at the store (because Ridley is coming…) and I bought it for her. I figured that someone in the house should read a book of his before he comes. She liked it, thought the idea was clever and fun and even though she’s not a huge fan, it was enjoyable.

C’s not reading much because there’s a play coming up, but she is looking forward to reading this in her English class:

In fact, it’s one of those times where she wants to do ALL the projects the teacher assigned (she only has to do one), from memorizing a soliloquy to writing a scene as a blog post. I’m glad she’s willing to tackle Shakespeare without complaint.

What are you looking forward to reading this month?