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’.

The Plot by Jean Hanff Korelitz

After my recent bout with unsatisfying and abandoned books, I turned to a summer reading favorite – mystery novels. I picked this one because the plot of The Plot involves a best-selling writer, a stolen plot, literary treachery, and an examination of what defines plagiarism.

Jake is a novelist who experienced early modest acclaim, but he hasn’t been able to replicate that success in his subsequent books. He is now a writing instructor at small, second-rate writing program in Vermont.

Jake meets with his new student, Evan Parker, who has an incredible confidence in himself and his work, although he won’t share much other than a cursory few pages of work. After reading these few pages, Jake assumes Evan is without writing skill and in a one-on-one meeting shares his concerns about a lack of produced pages. Evan reluctantly shares his novel’s plot line with Jake, who realizes it is indeed a blockbuster plot – in fact — The Plot.

Over the years, Jake morosely works on his writing only to have rejections. Meanwhile he awaits the publication of Evan’s novel which he expects to be a best seller. Then Jake learns that Evan died before completing the book — so Jake sits down and writes his own version based on the infamous plot.

The resulting novel has phenomenal success, New York Times best seller list, Oprah, book tours, media interviews and even movie rights. Jake should be riding high on this success. Yet he lives with the constant dread that someone, somewhere knows this plot, his book, wasn’t his original idea.

But his worst fears come true, someone does know and starts sending him messages about the fraud and threatening to expose him. Jake sets out to try and find out who could possibly know, as most of the deceased Evan’s family is dead.

Now, usually when I read mysteries I try and figure out who dun it – half the fun in reading mysteries. Usually I’m wrong – or way off — case in point The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

About three quarters of the way through The Plot I did figure out who was the culprit behind the messages and threats – I was certain this time and I was correct. However, no gold stars for me — I’m pretty certain Ms. Korelitz did this will full intention — she wanted the reader to know, and Jake to be in the dark.

Even so, I kept reading, kept turning the pages — greatly appreciating the author’s plot twists and the devious suspense building.

What I also found interesting, was the insights into what is, and, is not plagiarism. Jake based his novel on an idea someone else had. The Plot discusses other such novels based on someone else’s works, such as Jane Smiley’s, A Thousand Acres, based on King Lear.

The ending, well it wasn’t what I wanted – but then again, I’m not an author. And after reading The Plot, I’m very glad I’m not…who knows where any writing ideas might come from?

Without giving any more away, I will close with this enticement. You see, Jake thought the threats were all about plagiarism, but he was totally wrong. The anonymous email writer had much more to settle with him.

And that, my Book Barmy friends, is the real plot.

I recommend The Plot as a page-turning, suspenseful mystery/thriller, perhaps your summer vacation read.

A digital review copy was provided by Celadon Books via Netgalley.

Abandoned Reading

Humble apologies to my Book Barmy followers for the lack of content here. Sadly, I’m in a reading slump, a reading desert if you will, with several recent books cast aside in disappointment.

I know this is natural and happens to every reader, but oh how I miss being lost in a good — nay, a great book. Without such diversion, my evenings are not spent in my lovely reading nook, with said good/great book — but instead re-watching episodes of West Wing.

I had such high hopes for this novel, inspired by Andrew Wyeth’s painting Christina’s World and told from the point of view of the woman herself. Christina seemed destined for a small life. Instead, for more than twenty years, she was host and inspiration for the artist Andrew Wyeth, and became the subject of one of the best known American paintings of the twentieth century.

I actually got well into A Piece of the World and was quite enjoying it, so much so, I sent a friend a copy to read during her up-teenth snowstorm.

But, alas, after a great start, the novel became belabored with the focus on Christina’s disability and struggles quite dreary. So, I put it down. Perhaps another day, I’ll try it again.

The Book Hater’s Book Club was sent to me by the publisher for review. A blog aptly named Book Barmy tends to attract such books, for which I am grateful. The book’s blurb “All it takes is the right book to turn a Book Hater into a Book Lover” had me intrigued.

I usually enjoy books about book stores and the very interesting people that run them. So knowing this would be a lighter read, I tried it.

Elliott, co-owner of Minneapolis’ Over the Rainbow bookshop, has recently passed away, leaving the other co-owner, Irma, in trouble. Business is failing and the bills are piling up. Irma is also grieving the death of her longtime boyfriend.
Irma calls a meeting with her two daughters, Bree and Laney, and Elliott’s partner, Thom, at the lawyer’s office. She has decided to sell to a developer who plans to raze it and replace it with high-rise condominiums. Hmm I thought, okay, just give it another few chapters…

I tried folks, I really tried, but the characters were a bit too simplistic and plot very predictable from the outset. Another book tossed aside. Sorry ‎Park Row publishing.

I picked this up at my local library from the new arrivals shelf. (I have a special weakness for library new arrivals or librarian recommendation shelves.)

It sounded fun, a memoir about how Ms. Orenstein got through the pandemic by shearing a sheep, carding the wool from said sheep, spinning it into yarn and then making a sweater. I’ve never really been interested in spinning, but am a knitter, so I thought this will cure my reading slump – something completely different…and, as it turns out, completely BORING.

My eyes crossed at the detail; every little step of finding someplace that would teach her to shear a sheep, the minutiae of that practice, the endless discussion of choosing dyes for her wool, and the struggle to learn to knit. I know everyone needed something to do during the lock down time, and I’m happy Ms. Orenstein found her own coping mechanism. I just wish she had made it more fun and entertaining. But as Unraveled is written – it just felt like a forced march.

One thing is for certain – as the book cover proclaims — she did produce a very ugly sweater.

So here I am, aimlessly searching my bookshelves and Kindle for something to read – I need something to read. Perhaps I’ll just let it go and not put pressure on myself.

As a distraction, our record setting rainfall this winter has resulted in some of my best rose blooms ever.

So, I’m off to the garden – there are always aphids to spray with soapy water and dead-heading. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

And “West Wing”, in case you’ve forgotten, was a great show, and I’m really enjoying re-watching the series one episode an evening – from the beginning.