I recently signed up to take an online Readers’ Advisory course, and one of the requirements was that we read at least one of four selected books. The designated books were Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card (science fiction), The Viscount Who Loved Me by Julia Quinn (historical romance), Ice Station by Matthew Reilly (military action/adventure), and Bootlegger’s Daughter by Margaret Maron (mystery). Since I’ve never read any of these books – and up to this point, had only heard of the first one – and was not overly partial to any particular genre, I chose the mystery.

Bootlegger’s Daughter was the first in what is currently a 14-book series featuring Deborah Knott. Deborah is an attorney in a small town in North Carolina, who decides to run for a local district judge position after one too many dealings with the ‘good ol’ boy’ system. At the same time, 18-year-old Gayle asks Deborah to investigate the decades-old murder of Gayle’s mother, Janie, since, in addition to her legal prowess, Deborah used to be the family babysitter and knows them and the townspeople well.  Her investigation leads her to uncover some of the town’s most well-kept secrets, which rankles with certain people who feel those stones should be better left unturned. Meanwhile, running for judgeship provides its own share of small-town hassles, requiring some quick maneuvering from Deborah and help from her family.

As the initial book for this series, Maron does a superb job of setting up the character of Deborah as well as her friends and family for future installments. While the mystery is central to the story, Deborah’s relationships and history are equally important. Contemporary (well, 1990s) small-town Southern life is presented in a manner that recognizes both the faults and what makes them so great. For this mainly non-mystery reader, Bootlegger’s Daughter was a highly readable and pleasant surprise.

Applicable Reading Challenges: 100+ Reading Challenge, Support Your Local Library, TwentyTen Challenge, Book Awards Reading Challenge

Book Rating: 4: Good, solid book that I would recommend to others.

FTC Disclosure: I borrowed this book from the library.

I have been performing dismally in the current Canadian Book Challenge, so I knew I needed to amp it up quite a bit if I am to have any hope of completing the challenge by the end of June. Up until January, I’m ashamed to say I’d only read one book from my home country. That’s pretty pathetic! And it’s not like I don’t have a bunch on my shelf, waiting to be read. There are plenty, but I guess because they’re there, I feel like they’ll always be there and so I keep bumping them for newer and more popular fare. Ooooh, shiny!

So Mrs. Mike, a historical novel by Benedict and Mary Freedman, was one of those books languishing on one of my bookshelves. Mrs. Mike was written in 1947 and became a best seller in the United States, even being made into a film by the same name. Set in the northern wilderness of Alberta at the turn of the 20th century and based on the life of Katherine Mary Flannigan, I’d never heard of this book growing up on the east coast of Canada. It was only a couple of years ago that I stumbled upon its existence and I don’t even remember how I came to know about it. But its setting, combined with the title (my husband’s name is Michael, so I am a Mrs. Mike, too) convinced me to buy it when I came across a remaindered copy at a bookstore several months back. In drawing up my proposed reading list for January (yes, in 2010 I’ve done something I’ve never attempted before, and have created planned reading lists for each month, and if January is any indication, with mixed results), I included Mrs. Mike and after making my way through Beach Music, decided to opt for something less demanding and complicated. Mrs. Mike it was.

A sort of grown-up, Canadian version of Little House on the Prairie, in Mrs. Mike we meet Katherine Mary as a young girl of sixteen, on a train in the snowy, frozen northern wilderness. She is on her way from Boston to stay with a bachelor uncle in Alberta, with the hope that the cold, clean air will cure her pleurisy. Soon after her arrival, she meets Sergeant Mike Flannigan, a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, or Mountie, as they are popularly known. Love quickly blossoms and the two get married, whereupon Kathy accompanies Mike to his post on the fringes of Canadian territory, to live amongst the traders, trappers and Aboriginals in an outpost near Lesser Slave Lake. Kathy’s account is both an outsider and insider’s view of this strange land, written in the honest, non-politically correct language of the time (for instance, those who are part Aboriginal and part Caucasian are called ‘breeds – a shortened slang for half-breeds). She is an outsider when she arrives, unaccustomed to life in such an unforgiving landscape, but it eventually becomes a part of her, as she recognizes its beauty, accepts and adopts the love her husband has for the area, and finds comfort in the bonds made among those who call it home.

As I related in a recent post, I almost didn’t get to finish reading Mrs. Mike, since I found out about halfway through why my copy was remaindered: it was missing about 50 pages. Luckily, one of the branches in our library system had a large print version, so I was able to get that within a few days of coming to a sudden halt with my own book. Sadly, my copy is headed for the recycle bin, since it’s not much good to any other reader.

Applicable Reading Challenges: 100+ Reading Challenge, Original TBR Challenge, TwentyTen Challenge, Historical Fiction Challenge, Canadian Book Challenge 3,

Book Rating: 4: Good, solid book that I would recommend to others.

FTC Disclosure: I bought a remaindered (and defective!) copy from a bookstore.

I saw Hope Larson’s graphic novel Gray Horses pop up on a few blogs over the past month or so, all praising the story and artwork, so of course, I had to get my hands on a copy and anxiously awaited the arrival of a copy through inter-library loan.

Gray Horses is a quiet, understated account of a French exchange student’s experiences living in the United States. By day, Noemie is an art student, finding her way in a strange town, alone and without the comforts of home. By night, she dreams of a young girl and the horse that helps her along a journey.

The tone of Gray Horses is soft and dreamlike, with subdued colors and simple drawings adding to the book’s otherworldly feel. The smattering of dialogue contained within is a mixture of English and French (with translations), a neat touch that felt true to how the character of Noemie would think.

Although I can see what appealed to other readers, it was a little too quiet and whimsical for me to connect to the characters or really be drawn into the story. That said, her new book, Mercury, looks quite interesting and perhaps would better fit my reading mood, so I’m definitely up for reading more from this obviously talented artist.

Applicable Reading Challenges: Support Your Local Library, 100+ Reading Challenge, Graphic Novels Challenge

Book Rating: 3: Decent, but didn’t grab me in a big way.

FTC Disclosure: I borrowed this book from the library.

A disproportionate amount of my reading time in January was taken up with Pat Conroy’s best selling novel, Beach Music. It wasn’t because the book was so long – coming in at more than 600 pages – as I’ve read longer books in much less time than it took me to read Beach Music. But the first 200 pages were so excruciatingly slow for me to get through, taking about two weeks before I finally made it over that hurdle. From there, the reading got easier and I actually began to enjoy myself. But those first 200 pages … whew! If I didn’t have to read it for book club, I would have put it aside long before I reached that point. And I would have missed out on a good story, which would have been a shame. For those first 200 pages, I didn’t like ANY of the characters, I didn’t care about their life stories, and Conroy had a maddening habit of alluding to tragic and mysterious pasts without actually TELLING us anything for far too many chapters. And boy, does the man love his metaphors! But once he finally got around to it, he told a whopper of a tale. There is so much going on in this book, a lot of it tangential to the the plot(s) and everything is extreme; absolutely nothing is understated or even ordinary. So while I was enjoying myself, another part of me was just wishing he would get on with it and cut out a lot of the book’s flotsam and jetsam, as beautifully told as it was, and perhaps while he was at it, tone it down a notch or two.

The story itself focuses on Jack McCall, a South Carolinian and father of a young daughter, Leah, who flees to Rome, Italy after his wife’s suicide, attempting to escape both the painful memories and the clutches of his parents-in-law, who had tried to obtain custody of Leah after their daughter’s death. Cutting off all ties to his family, he tries to forge a new life for himself and his daughter. But the past comes calling, and it isn’t long before Jack is back in Charleston, opening up all the closets and finding the family skeletons, while he spars with his brothers and watches his mother battle leukemia. Mix in the Holocaust and the Vietnam War, along with a whole host of other issues, including schizophrenia, murder, alcoholism, all kinds of abuse and even the plight of Loggerhead turtles, and you have yourself a heady, overwhelming extravaganza of a novel, one that sadly culminates in a contrived, anti-climactic denouement that felt rushed and not in keeping with the rest of the sprawling story. There are moments, passages, even whole chapters of brilliance and captivating storytelling, but on the whole, I wanted both less and more from this book.

Even though my reaction to this book is mixed, I did like it enough to want to read more by Pat Conroy. And many people love his books and loved Beach Music - judging from the majority of Amazon reviews and the many people I’ve encountered who sing his praises. I’m not won over by Pat Conroy, though – at least not yet.

Applicable Reading Challenges: Support Your Local Library, 100+ Reading Challenge

Book Rating: 3: Decent, but didn’t grab me in a big way.

FTC Disclosure: I borrowed this book from the library.

I mentioned in a previous post how I was not looking forward to my church book club’s first selection of 2010, Same Kind of Different as Me, a memoir co-written by Ron Hall and Denver Moore. The touchy-feely inspirational genre is just not one that appeals to me. But, I sucked it up and in the few days prior to the book club meeting, read the book.

And you know, it wasn’t that bad. Pretty good, in fact.

The story is told from the point of view of the two men, in alternating chapters. Ron Hall is a wealthy (and Caucasian) art dealer living a luxurious lifestyle, while Denver Moore is a poor (and African-American) former sharecropper living on the streets.

In the first third of the book, each man tells about his origins and family history. For me, this was the most compelling part of the book and what drew me in. Denver’s experience as a sharecropper in a rural Louisiana parish, a ‘modern day slave’ as he is described in the book’s subtitle, is riveting. As someone who knew only vaguely what a sharecropper was, it was particularly interesting. His is an eloquent and heartbreaking story. Ron Hall’s experience, while devoid of the tragedies that befell Denver, are also interesting and shed valuable light on how he became the successful businessman.

What brings these two unlikely friends together is Ron’s wife, Deborah, who feels called by God to help a local shelter, and (almost literally) drags her reluctant husband with her to serve supper to the area’s homeless. Rather than just offering money, they give of their time and selves, going far beyond what the homeless people frequenting the shelter expect from the ‘do-gooders’ that drop in. Deborah also feels that God wants her and Ron to befriend Denver, and so Ron must overcome his own fears and prejudices to learn about Denver as a person, not just one of the many homeless people he encounters. Bound by their mutual love and respect for Deborah, the two forge a deep and trusting friendship, which becomes a saving grace for both men when tragedy strikes once again.

As you would expect, there are many issues and themes present in this book: racism, homelessness, the power of prayer, forgiveness – just to name a few. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it and felt that they shared their story without coming across as preachy or sanctimonious. I genuinely liked both men and think that this book is a fitting tribute not only to Deborah, but a testament to what can happen when we reach out and have faith.

Applicable Reading Challenges: 100+ Reading Challenge

Book Rating: Initially, I was going to give this book a 3 but since it well exceeded my expectations, I’m going to bump it up a notch: 4: Good, solid book that I would recommend to others.

FTC Disclosure: I purchased a used copy of this book which has been sitting on my bookshelf for several months.

It’s another rainy weekend here in the southeast, which normally I would not mind except the days in between (when I’m working) have been sunny and nice for the most part and it’s only the when the weekend rolls around that the grey clouds come out. Watch, next weekend, which is my Saturday to work, will be all sunshine.

It was only a light misty rain early this afternoon, so after church and lunch I headed out for what has now become my regular Sunday run. Last year was the year I finally decided to lose weight and get in shape. Inspired by my friend Susan, I joined Weight Watchers and started back at the gym. I thought participating in a 5K would be a good thing to aspire to, so back in October, I ran my first 5K along with my husband and my friend, Jeanie. Two more 5Ks followed and then I got the bright idea to participate in a half-marathon. I got another friend of mine who recently did the breast cancer 3-day to agree to do it with me, and we are training to do a combination of running and walking the half-marathon, which takes place at the end of March. So anyway, I got 2 miles into what was supposed to be a 6 mile run today, but almost as soon as I set out, the light mist turned to a steady rain, which has since turned into monsoon-like conditions and a tornado watch. I figured I was not that dedicated and could finish up my 4 miles at the gym tomorrow morning. So instead I came home and settled back in the comfy chair with a blanket and a good book while my Sunday pot roast cooks in the crockpot. Life is good, indeed.

And what book am I curled up with, you may ask? Well, it should have been Mrs. Mike, the classic tale of love in the Canadian wilderness, but yesterday as I was in the midst of the book and coming up on a scene where something mysterious was going to be unveiled, I come to the bottom of the left page, which says:

“We came over on a small boat, my father, my mother and five sisters and brothers. It was strange how it happened. The

and the next words at the top of the right page were:

“Well, you know now.”

Wait. What? I know? No, I don’t! You were just about to tell me! What’s going on here?!? I read a little more and it’s different characters talking around a dinner table, a completely different setting than the previous page. I look at the page numbers and see that the left page was number 154 but the right page is 187. Dang it! Foiled by a publishing misprint! And of course, it was a remaindered copy I bought months ago who knows where, so it’s not like I can take the book back to where I bought it and exchange it out. And thanks to my self-imposed book-buying ban, I can’t just run down to the nearest bookstore and buy myself a new copy. The only copy in our library system is a large-print version at another branch so I have to wait for it to be sent to our library, which means I won’t be able to return to the story for at least a few days.

So instead, I’m returning to The Woman in White, which I started out reading earlier this month as part of Leila’s read-a-long, but got put aside so that I could focus on Beach Music, which took me two weeks to get through the first 200 pages, 3 days to get through the middle two hundred pages, and 5 hours to get through the last two hundred pages, finishing up at 3:24 a.m. the morning before my book club this past Thursday. I’ll leave the rest of my comments for the extravaganza that was Beach Music for its own post, but suffice it to say that it took all attention away from The Woman in White for much of January.

Speaking of January being almost outta here, have you signed up for the Bibliophilic Books Challenge yet? There’s only one more week before the signup period expires, and I will be drawing for an appropriate prize from all the initial registrants. So head on over there and sign up!

OK, that’s it for me for this Sunday. I’m off to Limmeridge House!

Shaun Tan’s wonderfully whimsical children’s book cum graphic novel, Tales From Outer Suburbia, appeared on a lot of book bloggers’ ‘best of 2009′ lists, but up to that point, it wasn’t even on my radar. Then a coworker and friend who works in the children’s department here at the library recommended it to me.

Now, this particular person used to work in the Adult Services area, where I work. But early on, she moved over to the Children’s area (or as I like to call it, the dark side) and ever since has continually tried to foist various picture books on me, exclaiming over some treasure she’d found among the children’s stacks. And I’m sure they’re very good books, but I just do not generally read children’s books, particularly picture books. A few weeks ago, when I saw The Onion’s hilarious spoof of the popularity of children’s books among adults, I immediately thought of this friend (and sent her the link to the video, which got me called a not-very-kid-friendly name, all in good fun, of course). Here’s the clip, in case you haven’t seen it:

Adults Go Wild Over Latest In Children’s Picture Book Series

So anyway, if I hadn’t first heard about Tales From Outer Suburbia from my fellow book bloggers, I probably would have pooh-poohed my friend’s recommendation, and thus missed out on a delightful book that both charmed and touched me. As I finished each story, I would think, “OK, that’s my favorite,” only to go on to read the next one and say, “OK, no, THAT’s my favorite.” In the end, I don’t think I could choose just one story, as they are all wonderful in their exploration of the things that make suburban life both surreal and ordinary. The drawings are both sweet and evocative, with more than a touch of melancholy that give the stories emotional depth and draw the reader into this bizarre yet familiar landscape.

From sage-like water buffalo to a mysterious exchange student, to decorated backyard missiles and finding out for oneself what lies beyond the map, each story in this collection is a little bit of magic in a seemingly mundane world. Perhaps I’ll venture into the dark side a bit more often.

Applicable Reading Challenges: Support Your Local Library, 100+ Reading Challenge, Graphic Novels Challenge,

Book Rating: 4: Good, solid book that I would recommend to others.

FTC Disclosure: I borrowed this book from the library.

I mentioned last week that my friend Susan was visiting this weekend, and we have been enjoying ourselves immensely so far.

We started by going to afternoon tea at the Holly Cottage Tearoom. We were seated in the Brontë room, with a print of the famous portrait of the Brontës overlooking our table:

That is me on the left and Susan on the right, both of us proudly wearing our fancy hats and enjoying our tea. We had three courses, starting with tomato and basil soup (me) or salad (Susan) and then were served this three tiered tray full of sweet and savory goodies. Here’s a closeup of the second tier:

And this is a shot of the final pot of tea we shared:

We started with Monks Blend tea (which turned out to be my favorite), segued to a pot of Bella Coola tea (I would like this iced in the summer but it was a bit too strong as a hot tea for my tastes) and set a tearoom record by requesting a THIRD pot of tea, their signature blend, Yorkshire Harrogate, to which I added a spot of cream. It was also very good but by the time we finished I was ready to float out of there, I was so full of tea!

The next evening, we ventured into Atlanta so that I could get all giddy and verklempt  by spending an hour or so listening to Jasper Fforde as he talked about his books and read from his newest novel, Shades of Grey. He was funny and clever and his accent was like buttah! I could have listened to him talk all night.

And here I am waiting patiently (on the outside) as I squeal with delight (on the inside) while Jasper signs two of the books I brought with me:

The event was held at a Barnes and Noble, and this was the first real test to my 2010 book-buying ban, since it was the first time that I’ve stepped into a bookstore since January 1st. I’m happy to say that I passed the test! I did a cursory glance of the bargain shelves, but didn’t roam around too much, just took a seat in the second row and waited for Jasper. The B&N folks very nicely made all the people who’d come in late and stood around the front (near the autograph table) move to the back and let those of us who’d gotten there hours ahead of time get in line to get our books signed first. I appreciated that even though I had my husband stationed near the front of the line as a placeholder.

In the last photo, on the side is a postcard that he inserted into Shades of Grey and a green button (he had a big bag of buttons of all colors out for people to choose one).  It was a great evening and I thoroughly enjoyed myself – and am an even bigger fan of Jasper Fforde than I was before.

As for my reading this weekend, well, I am still making my way through Beach Music and telling myself I can’t look at any more books (including the two graphic novels that came in at the library, Grey Horses and Laika, both of which I’m dying to read) until I finish it, since my book club meets this Thursday and I still have a few hundred pages to get through. I’m not loving it but I have moments where I’m enjoying the book – but I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for book club, I probably would have set it aside already. Hopefully I’ll finish in time!

It’s time for Saturday Shout-Outs!

Here are some of the books I’ve discovered this week through my fellow book bloggers:

SFP at pages turned listed her last books of 2009 and among them was a book that caught my eye: The English Stories by Cynthia Flood. At first I thought that I could count the book towards the Typically British Challenge, but further investigation revealed that the author is actually Canadian. So that means it can go towards the Canadian Book Challenge instead!

Once again Jenny is adding to my TBR pile by writing about yet another British-themed book, Watching the English by Kate Fox. I already have requested a copy from a local library.

There appears to be a bit of theme going on with this week’s shout-outs. This book shows up compliments of Molly at My Cozy Book Nook, who reviewed Ian Sansom’s The Case of the Missing Books, and thus reminded me that I actually own a (as yet unread) copy of this book already. Since she enjoyed it so much, I’m thinking about moving it up in the TBR queue (that was a nod to Jenny right there!). And even better, it will count towards a couple challenges, including my own Bibliophilic Books Challenge. (You have joined already, right?)

OK, this one breaks with the theme, but when I saw the cover of The Far Traveler on Eva’s Library Loot post earlier this week, my eyes and ears pricked up, particularly since my home province is the site of an early Viking settlement, L’Anse aux Meadows. Luckily, a local library has a copy, so I’ve got this one on the list to read at some point.

And that’s it for this week!

David Small, the award-winning illustrator, had a childhood more bizarre and surreal than any Grimm fairy tale . In his graphic novel memoir, Stitches, he shares with us the experience of growing up in a household led by a taciturn mother whose primary form of communciation included slamming doors and dishes, and a radiologist father whose authoritarian demeanor exuded no emotion for young David, either. Even visits to his maternal grandmother offered little respite; it was clear that the pattern of emotional child abuse and dysfunctional parenting did not begin with David’s mother.

From an early age, David was subjected to his father’s x-ray treatments for respiratory ailments. After several years of treatment followed by an appalling negligence on the part of his parents, it was after what was supposed to be a routine surgery that David awoke to discover one of his vocal cords had been removed. Forced into silence, David delved even further into his beloved art, and did as he always had, finding escape in his imagination. Eventually, he finds a sympathetic and understanding psychiatrist and moves out of the family home.

In the years that follow, David seems to find a way to both forgive and to move on from his past, and it’s obvious that the creation of this memoir was a form of emotional release. Would that all forms of catharsis could be this brilliant and poignant. The illustrations are just as evocative, if not more so, than the words of David’s story, and resonate with distilled emotion. I believe it to be one of the finest examples of the memoir in graphic novel format, a perfect coalescence of two forms of communication, to share one very painful and powerful story with us, the fortunate audience.

Last January, French Milk, another graphic novel, ended up being one of my favorite books of the year. I have a feeling the same may happen in 2010 with Stitches.

Applicable Reading Challenges: Support Your Local Library, 100+ Reading Challenge, Graphic Novels Challenge

Book Rating: 5: Excellent. This book has impacted me deeply, or has simply been a pure delight to read.

FTC Disclosure: I borrowed this book from the library.