I Got Nothing …

Sorry dear readers, I have nothing to share at present.

No book recommendations, no reviews, nothing.

I can’t seem to land on a book, nothing is grabbing my interest beyond the first few pages…

I know it’s my mood and definitely not my books. I have hundreds many great possible reads awaiting me. Most of which I know I’m going to devour, but nothing is clicking…

Here’s what I’ve tried and discarded so far…

I was very keen to read The Covenant of Water as the author’s previous book was one of my all time favorites. But, one-third of the way through, I suddenly got bogged down…again not the book’s fault. Ann Patchett is always a favorite, but even her beautiful writing couldn’t seduce me further than a few pages.

So I turned to my trusty mystery collection, thinking a good mystery will be perfect – but no, nothing grabbed my attention. Moonflower Murders is a sequel to The Magpie Murders ,which I really enjoyed. Rumors are that there will be a PBS mystery sequel as well (yes, please PBS). And just look at the cover from the very classic British Library Crime series. But again, no – nothing clicked.

And then there’s these enticing advanced reading copies for books coming out next year. Yup, tried these too…

Please know, it’s not these books’ fault – it’s my scatterbrained mood.

Restless and despondent (hey, it’s my blog I can be as dramatic as I want) I rearranged some books, did some more dipping in and out of other books and came across this last evening. An old work friend (who sadly passed away during COVID) gave me this book. I found her note in the book, saying she thought I would enjoy these stories. Well, that’s depressing I thought, but, oh well – I’ll give it a try…

From the back blurb:

_{For many years Pulitzer Prize-winning author Robert Olen Butler has collected picture postcards from the early twentieth century, not so much for the pictures on the fronts, but for the messages written on the backs, little bits of the captured souls of people long since passed away. Using these brief messages of real people from another age, Butler creates fully imagined stories that speak to the universal human condition.}

I am not a big short story reader, I often find they leave me wanting more. But, given my mood, I thought maybe, just maybe this will be the one – finally the book to grab me, and it did.

I read two last night and one this morning with my tea. It’s too early to give you my full take on this book and admittedly, Mr. Butler uses a gimmick here – but so far, it’s a wonderful one. Using actual picture postcards he’s collected over the years, he creates a story from the messate on the postcard. He crafts characters, situations, and emotions — all from a few lines of personal communication between two unknown people.

Here’s a photo of the first story postcard, the message says:

This is where the people who have more money than brains put up. The pay about $100 per month for two rooms furnished when they could afford to have a nice home of their own. I had a job in this hotel last year. Worked there for a week. Saw lots of style, but don’t see as the people were any happier.

Mr. Butler gives us a story of a new bus boy working at a fancy hotel who meets a rich guest about his own age and they form a prickly relationship that ends in a most surprising way.

Stay tuned folks, I will try and read some more of these little stories and give you a full report.

Promise, I will have something for you next time.

The House Guest by Hank Phillippi Ryan

I came to this novel through one of my favorite mystery authors, Deborah Crombie – who writes a blog along with six other female mystery writers. When re-visiting Jungle Red Writers, I realized the publisher had sent me an advance copy of The House Guest by Hank Phillippi Ryan one of the other members of Jungle Red writing team (and yes her name is Hank – isn’t that great?). I quickly put it at the top of my Kindle list for a long plane ride.

Full disclosure, I don’t read many thrillers, and when I do, I save them for – well, long plane trips. As I need page-turners that keep me entertained for the entire flight. (I remember barely looking up from ‘Gone Girl’ during a long trip back from Europe.)

Back to this novel – The House Guest — and even though no one’s asked, I really don’t like the cover —

After over eight years of marriage, Alyssa Macallan’s husband Bill has walked out of her life and their up-scale Massachusetts home. Bill is a powerful fund raiser and together they lived a rich lifestyle Now, her supposed friends at the country club are snubbing her, her housekeeper is her only contact, and the future seems bleak.

Avoiding going home to an empty house, Alyssa stops by a bar one night. There she meets a woman she would never have befriended in the past. But Alyssa needs an ally and a friend and they instantly hit is off. Bree is running away from her own dangerous relationship, hiding out in the somewhat downtrodden hotel attached to the bar. Offering up the safety of her guest house, Alyssa is soon escorting Bree back to her home, confident that she’s helping out someone who needs a place to hideout.

Over the following days, the two become close and swap stories of the relationships they’ve recently walked away from. Suddenly, Bree has a brilliant scheme. What if they could solve each other’s problems? But does Alyssa know her new friend as well as she thinks she does? Or is Bree merely pretending to be her close confidante?

By now, I’m shaking my head at the recklessness of inviting someone you met in a bar to live in your guest house, and then the very outlandish idea of helping each other with their ex-partner problems. (Strangers on a Train anyone?). Also, Bree has become close to the male FBI agent investigating Bill – or is he? More than just a little suspicious and obvious.

Wow, I’ve got this figured out already, I said to myself…I’ll give it a few more chapters just to see if I’m right.

Well, folks I’m here to tell you I was wrong, The House Guest took several unexpected twists and turns and by now I was in it for the long haul. Who can be trusted? What is really behind the FBI investigation?

Ms. Ryan gives the reader a thriller, with interesting characters and page-turning plot. The House Guest questions the bonds of loyalty and friendship — who can be trusted and ultimately betrayal, This is a fast-paced, intriguing read ~~ I kept turning the pages for the entire flight and it had me guessing right up to the end.

So if you have a long plane trip, I suggest you pack The House Guest for your in-flight entertainment.

‎ A digital review copy was kindly provided by Forge Books via Netgalley.

The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin

I am focusing on happy things right now – walks with Husband, long talks with good friends, fresh peach ice cream, a pedicure, Netflix comedy specials, and finishing a page turner/thriller I started on the plane (more on that later).

The other day, I heard about new book from and co-written by Oprah (yes she’s baaaack) and it’s getting lots of press. More about that book HERE.

I may order this book from the library eventually, but in the meantime I remembered I had this one my shelves and dug it out the other day.

The Happiness Project: Or Why I spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean my Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle and Generally Have Way More Fun

I know I at least browsed through this book years ago, after picking it up at the library book sale, but I really didn’t remember it. I’m not a big fan of self-help books, but I decided to give it try again ~~

Gretchen Rubin had an epiphany one rainy afternoon in the unlikeliest of places: a city bus. “The days are long, but the years are short,” she realized. “Time is passing, and I’m not focusing enough on the things that really matter.” In that moment, she decided to dedicate a year to her happiness project. She decided to spend a year devoting each month to a “theme” designed to make herself happier and then write about it.

The introduction explains that while she was content – she wasn’t really happy, and because she’s a mom and wife she couldn’t escape to an island and stroll beaches — so she had to do her ‘happiness project’ from home.

I enjoyed the introduction and found some laughs as I picked through chapters, and I even related to some of her insights.

It was time to expect more of myself. Yet as I thought about happiness, I kept running up against paradoxes. I wanted to change myself but accept myself. I wanted to take myself less seriously — and also more seriously. I wanted to use my time well, but I also wanted to wander, to play, to read at whim. I wanted to think about myself so I could forget myself. I was always on the edge of agitation; I wanted to let go of envy and anxiety about the future, yet keep my energy and ambition.

She cleaned closets and de-cluttered, while another month she focuses on friendships encouraging us to make time for friends and to be there. Even all those events you don’t like? Tupperware sales party- just do it! In the same vein, Ms. Rubin goes on to suggest that we should reach out and make three new friends. That’s a tough one for me, I can’t keep up with the beloved friends I have now. Plus, as I get older (and with lingering post COVID social anxiety), the ‘make new friends thing’ takes much more effort.

Another chapter is about treating her husband better as she is a nag, and while I am not a nag, I sometimes don’t appreciate or cherish my Husband as I should every day and the following quote really hit home….I need to be better at this.

He is my fate. He’s my soul mate. He pervades my whole existence. So, of course, I often ignore him.

October’s chapter was pay attention – be in the moment.

November: Keep a contented heart. Here she mentions laughing, using good manners and giving positive reviews. (Whoops I’m not taking her advice on that last one right now.)

I tried Book Barmy friends, I really tried, to make this book work for me and help me – but found I was growing bored and somewhat weary of her simplistic view of happiness.

Is happy being in a constant state of bliss or exuberance? Or is it finding contentment? Or is happiness simply not wanting to kill someone today?

I think – no I know happiness is different and unique for everyone. One friend swims in the frigid waters of the bay, another loves sewing, and yet another volunteers as a school aid.

So I’ll go back to my own list of things that make me happy – they are tried and true; I have a 700-page best seller on my Kindle (great happiness), there’s a new Netflix series to try (hopeful happiness) I haven’t made Husband’s favorite dinner in a long time (favorite thing to do), there’s a new city park to explore (oh yay) and as they say, if you have a garden and library you have everything you need.

When I think of happiness, I am always reminded of the last scene of Love Actually – where Hugh Grant narrates that the best place to see love (and I’ll add happiness) in action is at the arrivals gate at Heathrow (or any airport for that matter).

Mom’s Favorite Reads

First and foremost, I knew I had some loyal and friendly followers here at Book Barmy, but I have been overwhelmed with all the lovely thoughts and tributes — such heartfelt emails and comments after my last posting. You are my tribe. Thank you.

This post has taken some time, as my mind kept wandering. When I tried to list some of my mother’s favorite books, the memories came flooding back.

We always had books, lots of books, when I was growing up. My grandfather had an extensive collection and my mom’s library was quite large for a young struggling couple with three kids. We had bookshelves in every room and one of us, if not all of us, could be found secreted in a corner reading. There were exceptions, we weren’t allowed to read at the table and, if it was a nice day, I was sent outside to play.

I remember some afternoons, Mom would sneak some time for herself, reading on the couch in the sunlight.

Mom and I had our difficulties, but we loved each other greatly — and our absolute best times were talking about books, trading books, shopping for books, and yes, quietly reading together.

So here I go with her favorite books – many of which I have never read myself.

My mom is one of the only people I’ve known who has actually read The Federalist Papers – yes read it cover to cover. I have her well-worn copy but have never attempted it myself.

Mom was fascinated by American history and that spurred her to read almost all of David McCullogh’s books. These were her two favorites if I remember… again still haven’t read.

We grew up just outside of Washington DC, so politics we also of interest but here she turned to fiction and feasted upon all of Allen Drury’s political novels.

Allen Drury was a reporter in the Senate, covering both Presidents Franklin D. Roosevelt and Harry S. Truman, among others. Mr. Drury is largely unknown and unread these days, but I may seek out this one – as she said it was her favorite – never read him either.

We we both enthralled by mysteries, but we agreed they had to be well-written and compelling.

I admit, I turned her into a Louise Penny addict which was great for both of us, because I would buy her newest installments in the Gamache mystery series on the day they were published – read them as fast as I could and then ship them out to my Mom. Enablers – you bet! If you haven’t read this well-written and very addictive series start with Still Life. You’ll get hooked too.

Rex Stout’s Nero Wolf series was another pleasure, and it’s been years since I’ve read one…but I remember they were very clever and the characters were sharp with great dialogue.

We shared a fondness for books about bookstores and The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap was one of our favorites.

Mom introduced me to Little Women when I was 8 or 9 (I think) and she let me keep her copy in my bedroom so I could read and re-read it late at night. We recently laughed and bemoaned all the film versions that have been made and questioned how could they possibly make another.

Then we also wryly admitted that we had both watched each one when they came on television.

We moved from DC up to New Hampshire when I was in my teens. During one snow day, attracted by the jacket cover inviting me down a snowy path to a snug home in the pines, I picked up my mother’s copy of We Took to The Woods and happily wiled away the afternoon. She told me she picked up this copy in a used bookstore right after we moved, so she could ‘get a feel’ for life in New England. It turned out to be one of her favorite books. More about this book HERE.

Side note — when I first posted about this book, and told how I found my own copy but it lacked this great cover, a Book Barmy follower and friend tracked down a copy for me — with that exact cover! Book lovers are the best.

Mom delighted in the Anne of Green Gables series of books and I found her this spin off for her birthday one year. A re-imagining of Anne’s adoptive mother Marilla. Mom called me a week later having read it almost non-stop, and said it was wonderful, and she laughed and cried. I scored with that one.

Mom was a keen Dickens fan and has read them all. Her favorite by far was The Pickwick Papers. I made the mistake of making my first venture into Dickens with David Copperfield which gave me great trouble. Mom urged me to read Pickwick to restore my interest in Dickens – she was right a much better book.

This a mere fraction of the books she read in her lifetime, but I’ll stop here, as I have got to get back into reading myself.

My brain hasn’t been in that space, but writing this post about our shared ‘reading thing’ has reminded me how much I miss getting lost in a book.

I’m currently attempting this ~~ but have gotten bogged down – I know this is going to be a great read, but at I wonder if I have the persistence?

Life maybe too short for 700+ page tomes. So many other books to read.

I’ll let you know.

I found this snapshot going through some old photos.

I am the baby…my mom is the real ‘babe’.

Mary Jeanne Fischer 1934 – 2023

My biggest fan has died – my book barmy mother passed away on July 24 — a day shy of her 89th birthday. Her last days were spent in a lovely hospice, peacefully, without pain and with my Dad and her children at her side – and for that we are grateful.

My mom was my biggest fan in all aspects of my life, whether it was my efforts to learn to ride a bike, struggles with high school algebra, cramming for my MBA finals, career woes, or just dealing with life – my Mom was always there for me.

She was the first to love me completely, to protect me, and to boast about me.

We agreed that we often had a difficult relationship. She and my dad had me when they were only 20. I often joked I was born 9 months and 15 minutes after they were married – pretty much true!.

So, not quite enough years between us to have a fully grown-up, mother-daughter relationship – as she, herself was still coming into her own. But we always had unbroken love and vast appreciation for each other.

My mom was a major influence in my love of books; she took me to get my first library card, and we went to the neighborhood library every week when I was growing up. She bought me Nancy Drew’s out of the grocery money, and let me read, and re-read, her copy of Little Women. We spent happy hours talking and arguing about books, and when together, we would seek out a bookshop or two (preferably used).

She loved this blog, and was my biggest fan, and enlisted followers among her book group and friends.

Not just an avid reader, my mother was an accomplished flutist, weaver, and knitter. She went back to school and got her college degree in her forties and then had a career as an accountant.

Next to my desk is the pile of books chosen and saved for her – I sent her books every month.

We laughed that she was the sole member of the Book Barmy of the Month Club.

There’s also a wrapped vintage collection of Anne of Green Gables found in a used bookshop on one of our travels and saved for her birthday – she would have loved them.

When I was back East, I picked up a book from Mom’s shelves which I had sent her, and she had saved the note I wrote for her in the book. Came home last week and picked up a book she sent me a few months ago and a similar such note from her was tucked inside – sigh.

Oh how I will miss my Book Barmy Mom ~~ this was one of our favorite quotes.

We had matching fridge magnets – and it still makes me smile.

In time, I will talk about her favorite books – she would have liked that.