Those Across the River

When Frank Nichols and his fiancé, Eudora, came to the sleepy town of Whitbrow, Georgia, during the summer of 1935, they were hoping for a fresh start. Scorned in Chicago (Eudora was a married woman when Frank struck up an intimate relationship with her), both felt that moving to a place where no one knew them was a splendid idea. Why, there was even a nice house just waiting for them there: Frank had inherited his aunt’s estate and he intended to make it their home despite her wish—warning, really—that he sell it immediately and leave Whitbrow. Once they were all settled in, Eudora would teach at Whitbrow’s only school, Frank would write a history of his great-grandfather Lucien Savoyard’s plantation that lay in the woods across the river, and all would be well. Sounds lovely, right? Wrong. Things go awry soon enough, and they get downright horrific before it’s all said and done. Here’s a clue: when the townsfolk, quaint as they may be, have a rather odd tradition called the Chase that involves running flower-adorned pigs off into the woods during the waxing of the moon each month, and said pigs are never seen again, it begs the question: who’s on the receiving end of the sacrifice? Yes, boys and girls, there’s something in the woods, and it’s hungry. Frank gets a glimpse of the evil that lurks there when he encounters an eerily silent, stone-throwing boy with teeth that are filed sharp. Add to this stew the town’s decision to end the Chase (after all, no one can really afford to keep sending pigs off into the woods) and the boogeymen voice their dissent in a very, well, bloody way. I can’t say much more without giving the story away, but once it gets going, it’s an all-out creepfest, one that kept me turning the pages well into the wee hours of the morning. Kudos to author Christopher Buehlman for cranking up the tension while keeping the baddies under wraps until the Big Reveal. So if you’re looking for a good Southern gothic that reads like a cross between William Faulkner and Stephen King, Those Across the River is the one. Enjoy.

And stay out of the woods.

Unholy Night

Seth Grahme-Smith creates another masterpiece while mixing history and fantasy into an interesting smash hit!   His first attempt at this genre combination was taking Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and creating Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It was a success,which led him to write his next hit Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.
In Unholy Night he uses his wit to remake one of the most famous stories of all time, the nativity into a swashbuckling, fast paced, dark thriller  and somehow also manages to make it a faithful adventure. Unholy night is not just a retelling of the famous nativity story but a merger of one of the oldest stories in history combined with a likeable hero, Balthazaar the thief, leader and nonbeliever. Take your traditional nativity story  add in a mix of what if and you are set for a thrill a minute.

Attachments

Over the past few years, I've found that I tend to read heavy, thought-provoking and deep books in the summertime. So far, this summer I've completely bucked that trend and have been delighting in the fun, light, and predictable happy endings.  Fortunately, I had just the book by my side when I was looking for something to read earlier this week. Attachments is a nice piece of lad-lit (chick lit from the male perspective) that perfectly met my interests.
Lincoln is a good guy. Sure, he lives with his mom and keeps racking up graduate degrees because he's not sure what else to do with his life and is still a little heartbroken over the breakup with his highschool girlfriend, but he's a good guy. He's underemployed as what was supposed to be an IT security position, but ended up being a job in which he's tasked with reading the emails caught in a newspaper's web filter. Typically, as he reads those messages that aren't work-related or otherwise unprofessional, he sends a note to the sender and moves on. Except, the messages that Beth and Jennifer send to each other are so interesting to him that he can't help but read them.

In the course of reading their messages, Lincoln realizes he's falling for Beth, which is understandable. We only meet Beth and Jennifer through the messages he's reading, and they come across as the fun friends whose conversations remind me of the Gilmore Girls. It's fun to watch the one-sided (in two directions, odd as it might sound) relationship unfold. The writing is light, fun, and clever and the characters are relatable.  All in all, a perfect summer read!

Today is Juneteenth!

Juneteenth is the oldest known celebration commemorating the ending of slavery in the U. S. and has been an African American tradition since the late 19th century.

Juneteenth commemorates June 19, 1865 and is the day 2,000 Union troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, to take possession of the state and free its slaves.

The new freedmen held large public celebrations and the word 'Juneteenth' resulted from the words 'June Nineteenth' being blended together.

After 1865, Juneteenth was mainly celebrated in Texas. However, it is now a state holiday or observance in more than half of the states and there is a campaign for it to become a national holiday or observance. 

As of June 2011, 42 states and the District of Columbia have recognized Juneteenth as either a state holiday or state holiday observance; these are Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, Wisconsin and Wyoming.

Try one of the following books about Juneteenth:

Juneteenth by Ralph Ellison

Jubilee Journey by Carolyn Meyer

And try these historical novels set around the Reconstruction after the Civil War:

Color of Lightning by Paulette Jiles

Gloryland by Shelton Johnson

Original Sins by Peg Kingman

Some Sing, Some Cry by Ntozake Shange

In which I admit that (yet again) I was wrong

I'd like to think it doesn't happen often but, when appropriate, I have no problem admitting that I was wrong. I'm growing convinced that if I write anything proclaiming a sweeping rule such as, "I don't like short stories" or "I have no interest in reading those acclaimed books" then I'm bound to find the exception to the rule within a matter of weeks. And so here goes: a few weeks ago, I shared my thought about the predictably and sameness of books that took place in prep schools and ivy leagues. And, of course, I have now found the exception that has forced me to admit, once again: I was wrong. 

The Year of the Gadfly by Jennifer Miller is difficult to categorize but it definitely takes place in a prestigious prep school and involves lessons learned about friendship and life, so I suppose you could call it a prep school coming of age novel. Unlike so many other books that might be considered its contemporaries, though, this book is not about ennui and disaffection. It is about a passion for getting to truth. It is about the resilience of humans (often illustrated by entomological comparisons). It is about the struggle to be true to yourself and the daunting odds that can be set against you in that struggle. And yet, it's also a page-turning tale of intrigue.

The book alternates between the viewpoints of three characters: Iris Dupont, a 14-year-old whose parents have recently located to Nye out of growing concern for Iris's metal health in the aftermath of her best friend's suicide and her subsequent friendship with an imaginary Edward R. Murrow; Jonah Kaplan, her science teacher who is himself an alumnus of the school and whose efforts to distance himself from the past have brought him squarely back to its epicenter; and Lily Morgan, the socially adrift daughter of the former headmaster, and whose narrative is kept in 1999. This book is cleverly constructed, well-written, and highly engaging. I enjoyed Iris's frequent, and vocal, disdain for cliches. On that ground alone, I think that Iris would approve of this book that breaks the stereotypes I had about prep school coming-of-age novels.  

Spring Fever = summer fun

Several years ago, a friend handed me a book by Mary Kay Andrews and said, "Try this, I think you'll like it." The book was Hissy Fit, a funny tale about a young woman who'd be done wrong by her fiancee. At their rehearsal dinner. With her maid of honor. Understandably, she pitched an epic, and title-worthy, hissy fit. I enjoyed it and have ever since counted on Mary Kay Andrews for fun reads in the summer. Her latest, Spring Fever, uses her well-established formula to bring exactly what I was looking for in a summer read.

Here's the thing: if you want a surprise, don't read Andrews' books. They follow a formula. Feisty heroine who doesn't always recognize her own worth? Check. Bad boy  who turns out to be better than he seems? Check. Funny foil of a best friend, often with some familial tie to the bad boy? Check. A rich Southern setting, often paired with a failing family business and/or interior design? Check. Misadventures, misunderstandings, and missed opportunities? Check, check, check. But I don't read Mary Kay Andrews for surprises. I read her because she writes fun, amusing books perfect for a sunny day and a tall, cold glass of lemonade.

If you've never read her, start with The Fixer Upper or Hissy Fit. Her Savannah series, starting with Savannah Blues is fun as well. I highly recommend her for fans of Katie Fforde, Marian Keyes, Lorna Landvik, Sarah Strohmeyer, and Janet Evanovich. Happy summer reading! 

Short stories strike again

It occasionally happens that a number of books I've been waiting for are all published at once, so I come to the library and am greeted by seven or eight books on the hold shelf, each crying desperately to be read. This is how I got to the situation I found myself in last night: 19 books waiting for me, each one sounding more appealing than the last (I know, I know: file it under First World Problems). My family laughed as I sat in the midst of a pile of books comparing blurbs, reviews, synopses, and due dates trying to figure out which one to tackle first. Finally, my husband (whose head wasn't quite as clouded by bibliophilia as mine at that moment) picked up the smallest book and asked, "Why don't you read this? You'll finish it sooner and be able to knock one off your list faster." (Ability to solve my reading dilemmas? Never doubt, dear readers, why I married him.)

And so I ended up with the very small, slim collection of short stories by Seth Fried called The Great Frustration. It was a big mistake only in that I had been hoping to read for a few minutes and go to bed. An hour later, I forced myself to close the book. I will warn you: it's weird. There are mythical stories and technical stories and there are stories of middle school plays. There is nothing that ties them together but a sharp writing style and an undercurrent of wit that evidences itself to varying levels. Some, like The Mystery of the Conquistador, are poignant and heart-rending. Others have a humor that feels wrong. Frost Mountain Picnic Massacre begins with "Last week the people in charge of the picnic blew us up. Every year it gets worse. That is, more people die." And yet, I found myself giggling throughout that story even as I admonished myself that I ought not to be laughing.

Every time I pick up a collection of short stories, I have to convince myself that I don't really hate them. And I am so often glad I did. Not only did I just get 11 wonderful stories to consider, but I can now quickly move on to the other 18 books waiting for me.