Don't Say A Word

A while back, I banned myself from going to library book sales, at least until I finish reading the piles of books I've got around the house.  Many of those books were acquired at library sales...especially since you can often get a bag for a dollar or two on the last day of the sale.

But, I picked up Don't Say A Word by Barbara Freethy at a library sale.  I was intrigued by the cover photo at first.  (I often do, in fact, judge books by their covers.)  I think at first I may have confused it with the movie of the same name.  You know, the one that has Brittany Murphy saying "I'll never tell," in that creepy sing-song voice.  But I digress.

In Don't Say A Word, Julia DeMarco is in the midst of planning her wedding, albeit a tad reluctantly, when she spots a photo of a child that looks like her.  A child staring through the gates of a Russian orphanage.  And the child is wearing a necklace exactly like one Julia's mother gave her.

As far as she knows, Julia is neither Russian nor an orphan.  Raised by her mother and step-father, she is part of a big family, and has been since she was four years old.  And yet, there are no pictures of her before that time, and she has no memories before her mother's wedding.

So Julia abandons her wedding plans and goes off in search of her past.  She finds Alex Manning, the son of the photographer who took the famous orphan photo.  Julia and Alex begin a quest that takes them back through a past that they didn't know they shared.

Plenty of intrigue and plot twists kept me reading Don't Say A Word far later than I should have at night, and nearly made me late to work a morning or two.  

The Casual Vacancy

Let me start by saying that I am a big fan of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter series.  I read the first five books straight through shortly after the fifth book came out.  I finished the series much later, and loved every bit of it.  I am currently mid-way through The Sorcerer's Stone with my nephew. (Who, by the way, is loving it just as much...despite his insistence on adding an "f" to the end of Dumbledore)

So, it was with great anticipation that I picked up The Casual Vacancy - a J.K. Rowling book for grown-ups.  I tend not to read reviews before I start a book.  I prefer to go into a new book with an open mind and no prior expectations.  I very rarely even read the foreword of a book.  (Unless of course, it is Stephen King addressing his Constant Readers.)

The Casual Vacancy begins with the unexpected death of Barry Fairbrother in the small English town of Pagford.  Barry's death leaves an open seat, or casual vacancy, on the parish council.  Soon several members of the community are vying for the seat and the expected political bickering ensues.

Multiple terrible relationships are examined.  Not one of the couples appear to have a "good" marriage.  Husbands cheat, wives fantasize about other men, and teenagers venture into unprotected sex.

The teenagers in town are a sorry lot.  Fighting with their parents, and occasionally amongst themselves, not one of these kids is likeable.  Not even Krystal Weedon, who we are led to empathize with because of her terrible home life.

To be quite honest, it took me longer to read The Casual Vacancy than I expected.  It was not a book that made me want to drop everything and read.  I didn't look forward to finding out what happened next.  And in the end, I was disgusted with just about every character.  I was truly, just glad to finish and return it to the library.

The Lost Art of Mixing

The Lost Art of Mixing, by Erica Bauermeister, centers around a restaurant owner and the people who surround her. 

Lillian, the owner herself, is in a new relationship with widower Tom, and encounters an unexpected wrinkle in her otherwise steady life.  Al, her accountant, is struggling with his marriage to Louise, who (unbeknownst to Al) harbors anger and suspicion.  Chloe, Lillian's sous chef, lives with Isabelle, who is struggling with Alzheimer's.  Chloe finds herself drawn to Finnegan, the tall dishwasher at the restaurant.

I read the first book in this series, The School of Essential Ingredients, with my book club in 2013, and we all enjoyed it.  According to Goodreads, we all gave it three or four stars.  So I was looking forward to the continuation of many of the stories introduced in The School of Essential Ingredients.

It would be too harsh to say I was disappointed in The Lost Art of Mixing.  I did enjoy the book, just not as much as the first.  The interaction of the characters and their individual stories was interesting, and I am always attracted to the next book in a series.  I'd still give it three stars and recommend it to anyone who read The School of Essential Ingredients.

Books about cooking or restaurants always make me think about taking a cooking class.  This book, as well as it's predecessor, did the same.  And then I always think again and realize that a cooking class is not for me.  I have no patience in the kitchen.  Sometimes just the thought of making a sandwich exhausts me.  I'm better than I used to be.  I can, in the right mood, throw together a decent meal (provided I have a recipe, of course).  It's just that the right mood doesn't strike me very often. Maybe one of these days I actually will take a cooking class.  But tonight it will be pasta and a jar of Trader Joe's marinara.

Bookus Interruptus

As I may have mentioned, I read pretty much anywhere.  Sitting on the couch, lying in bed, in the backseat of the car on long trips.  The beach, the pool, standing up in the kitchen waiting for the timer to go off for whatever's for dinner.  Occasionally, I must admit, even in the bathroom.

I have a bad habit of leaving a book open, face-down on a handy surface.  I know, some of you are gasping in shock right now.  It's a terrible way to treat a book.  And I am trying...

As a prolific reader, I have bookmarks everywhere.  I get them as gifts, or they come free with magazine subscriptions.  Some even come in the mail with requests for charitable donations.  I don't lack for bookmarks.  But I never seem to have one handy when I need it.

So, for your enjoyment, and in no particular order, a list of things I have used as bookmarks:
Coupons - generally expired ones
The twist tie from a loaf of bread
Drawings by one of my nieces
Kleenex  (not used!)
Requests for charitable donations (the kind that don't include bookmarks)
The business reply cards that fall out of magazines
The wrapper from whatever yarn I happen to be knitting with that day
My thumb
A paperclip
A napkin
The tear off edges of an old paycheck stub
A library receipt...handy if you don't want to forget when the book is due.
An old photo
A grocery receipt
The jacket of hardcover books - mainly the flap tucked into the page, but I have on occasion taken the jacket off and used the whole thing.

Basically, if it is handy, and won't cause damage, I will stick it in my book to hold my place.  The only thing I can say for sure that I've never used as a bookmark is cash.  My husband, when we were first dating, stuck $200 into a copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.  It stayed there, forgotten for years, until the book was being packed for one of our many moves.

There is a book called Forgotten Bookmarks, by Michael Popek, which provides a collection of things that have been left behind in books.  Photos, letters, an interesting array of items.  I am always intrigued when I discover a library receipt in a book I've taken out.  I want to know what else the other person is reading.  Why that particular combination of books?  If I haven't already read it, I will sometimes add their book to my "to read" list.

How do you mark your place when you don't have a bookmark handy?

Bag of Bones

Every year around this time, I find myself rereading a Stephen King novel.  My go to books are usually The Stand or It, old favorites.  This year, however, I picked up Bag of Bones, one I've read five or six times before.  I am generally drawn to the books of his that feature writers as main characters.

Bag of Bones is set mostly on Dark Score Lake in Maine, and tells the story of Mike Noonan, who is still mourning his wife after four years and suffering from a wicked case of writer's block.  He begins to dream of Sara Laughs, their lake house on Dark Score.  Eventually, he takes himself north for the summer with plans to possibly stay longer.

Almost immediately, he meets Mattie and Kyra Devore and becomes embroiled in Mattie's custody battle against her father-in-law.  Add to that an angry spirit, a crying ghost boy, and occasionally his dead wife's ghost, and you have one of my favorite's of Stephen King's books.

The thing about rereading a book like this is that it is familiar.  The characters are like old friends.  And as events unfold, I can say to myself, "Oh, yeah, that's right," or occasionally, "Oh my God, I forgot about that."  Every time I read a book I notice something new.  For some reason, on this read, one line jumped out at me, part of a description of the court-appointed guardian ad litem in the custody case: "Durgin chuckled fatly."  I don't know why it struck me funny, but it did.  I had a little giggle in the waiting area of Ally's dance class where I was reading.

I've been staying up far too late reading all week, as I always do when a Stephen King novel is involved.  Once I get sucked in, it's all I want to do to the exclusion of all else.  I am anxiously awaiting my copy of Finders Keepers, which came out earlier this week.

The House at the End of Hope Street

Menna Van Praag's The House at the End of Hope Street first crossed my radar when my book club was trying to choose a book set on another continent.  After a hilarious discussion about how Canada is not, in fact, on another continent, we eventually settled on The Secret History of the Pink Carnation, which was set in France, and a fairly interesting historical novel about a female spy.

I was interested in The House at the End of Hope Street, however, and when I recently stumbled on it in a bargain book bin at Stop and Shop, I grabbed it.  The premise intrigued me.  Main character Alba finds herself at a loss when she suffers "the Worst Event of Her Life" and stumbles upon a house she had never noticed before.  The proprietress of the house, Peggy, tells her she can stay for ninety-nine nights, rent-free, and use the time to turn her life around.

Thousands of women have stayed there over the years, many of them famous.  Currently sharing the house with Alba and Peggy are Carmen, a singer running from a secret, and Greer, an actress desperate to get her career on track.  Stella, a ghost that only Alba seems to see, inhabits the kitchen sink.

Alba goes to bed the first night and wakes up in the morning to find her bedroom lined with shelves full of every book she's ever read.  To a confirmed bibliophile like myself, this would be paradise.  As Alba undergoes her personal transformation, the books change to fit her needs.  The house is magical, and not above sending advice in the form of mysteriously appearing notes.  Who wouldn't want to live in a house like that?

Overall, I enjoyed following the lives of the four women in the house, seeing how their interactions, as well as the house's influence, got them on to their future paths.  The characters were well developed and the little tidbits of historical facts about the photograph women, who by the way can speak to the house's residents, were interesting as well.