Jeannette Hynes' Book Club, etc.

This novel is a true story.  Really!

From the author who gave our book club the favorite read of all time (“The Glass Castle” – memoir),  Jeannette Walls takes us back in time and tells the story of her maternal grandmother in the voice of grandmother.

Walls gives the book the categorization of “true-life novel.”  She explains since she’s telling the story in first person, and she is not that person, the only thing to call it was fiction.  Walls also explains most of the anecdotes are true, retold to her mainly by her mother and many of grandmother’s friends.  The exact conversations and thoughts of her grandmother are only as good as memory and in many cases can only be guessed – again, that fiction designation.

Lily Casey Smith is a firecracker, nothing less.  She lived a hard life in Texas, then in the desert of Arizona.  She always looked out for herself and she did what she could to be a good horse breaker, a good wife, a good person, and a good teacher, never worrying about what was PC at the time.  She had a strong business sense about her, even when the entire country was in the middle of the Great Depression.

I like Lily and her fire.  Reading this book also gave me a better understanding of Jeannette’s mom, Rose Mary, who appears as an aloof mom/artist in “The Glass Castle.”

Walls gives her grandmother a spunky voice and I can hear her loud and clear.

This book has everything: murder, mystery, and unexpected secrets all with a Mississippi drawl.

The neighborhood book club’s choice of “Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter” by Tom Franklin came as a leap of faith, a few internet searches, and a newspaper clipping of top book club books (most of which we have already read).

Once you begin the book, you also have to take a leap of faith that it will get better.  Franklin starts slowly and moves back and forth through time with every chapter.  He makes the quantum leaps easy to figure out, but I think I got whiplash from so much of it.

What kept me reading was:

#1 – I was the next book club host.

#2 – The characters.  I really wanted to know more about them, even if they moved as slowly as a mosquito in Mississippi in the summer.

At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know them.  Not sure I cared about what happened to them.  Then, the pieces fall into place.

This story is about two men who grew up near each other in a very very small Mississippi town, went their separate ways, and came back together later in life.  How their relationship changes is what I found intriguing.  Plus the author does a great job of developing a Southern drawl in a written form.

The characters and their relationships define this book.  I think the author could have written a different story about these people and still had a good book on his hands.

If you pick up this book, get some sweet tea, put the rocking chair on the porch, and enjoy a slow start to a crazy ride.

Talk about your ultimate girl power book.  This story is it and the story happens to be true.  That’s a one-two punch of empowerment.

“Seeds of Change: Planting a Path to Peace” picture book by Jen Cullerton Johnson is the life story of Wangari Maathai, a woman born and raised in Kenya who, in spite of the cultural norms of her country and village, went to school and eventually became a scientist and environmental activist.

Her life was a constant battle of pushing the norms, fighting for equality, and preserving the environment, all while her country was fighting for independence.  She even spent time in prison for her outspoken beliefs and actions.  But she continued her movement, even from prison.

Wangari won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004, the first African woman and the first environmentalist to do so.

I didn’t know who Wangari was until my daughter needed to do a school project about a country.  Part of that project was to find three notable leaders and explain why they were notable.  I suggested Kenya for her country to study.  Her godmother, Annette Hynes, lived there for three years serving in the Peace Corps, so we knew she’d have great pictures and insight that would work better than any Google or library key word search.   Annette turned us to Wangari.  Thank you!

We did find “Seeds of Change” through a library key word search and I am glad I had the chance to read this book to my daughter.

It is a wonderful book about a young girl, her love for nature, and her passion for sticking to her beliefs.   I think elementary-aged and middle-school aged students would benefit from reading this book.  The story is told in a lively way but doesn’t leave out Wangari’s struggles.

As a follow up to this book, my daughter and I also enjoyed “Mamma Miti” by Donna Jo Napoli.  Just be prepared to read plenty of words in Swahili.  I suggest a few practice runs before an out-loud reading.

For the first time in several years, I didn’t not turn in my $5 to participate in the office pool for the NCAA basketball tournament.  I should take that five bucks and put it toward my retirement, because I’ll likely get more money from that investment.  Although, the excitement of this year’s tourney could have been worth the price of admission.

I did fill out a bracket, for fun, to follow the games on my own.  I picked Pitt to win it all and I threw away my bracket by early Saturday afternoon.

Even with that said, I’m still watching.  Why?  VCU, Butler, even Richmond.  How boring would this tournament be without them?  It would be as if Cinderella never made it to the ball, lost her shoe, and ultimately lived happily ever after with her prince (who was also bored with the ball and was waiting for Cinderella/VCU to show up in time to save him from misery).

What would the NCAA be without its Cinderella?  I remember watching, in person, when Gonzaga made its big leap dance after dance all the way to the Elite Eight in 1999.  It was college basketball at its best.  This year is no exception.

I would have liked to have seen Jimmer and his team advance, because it is just fun to say his name.  But, I’m sure I’ll find a new name, a new team, and a program that will benefit for years to come because of their Final Four appearance.

Maybe I’ll start saving pennies now and participate in the office pool next year.  For now, I’m just going to watch and enjoy!

I have been given a rare gift.  The author of a book personally hands me a copy of his latest novel and asks me to read it.  What a gift!  It also helps that he lives here in Colorado.

Sadly, the book sat on my bedside table for months before I had the chance to crack it open (those book club ladies keep me reading).

“The Last Operative” by Jerry Jenkins is a spy-thriller worthy of a movie.  The main character, Jordan Kirkwood, is an All-American-type man with super-secret super-intense training that might make some military operations seem boring and tame in comparison.

I like Kirkwood.  He’s dedicated to his job and tries as best as his job will let him to be dedicated to his family.  He’s a devout Christian, even though his job would make you think he couldn’t be.  While his spiritual life is a part of Kirkwood, Jenkins makes it one layer of his personality.   Religion defines the character but it doesn’t dominate the book.  It’s a subtle underlying presence.

Kirkwood has been a government agent his entire life, hand-picked by the operation when he was in high school.  He has served his country well, but just as he’s about to hang it all up for good, his life turns upside down instantly and he’s brought right back into the game.  The problem is he doesn’t know if he can trust anyone.  Plus, he has a few secrets himself.

This book kept me guessing.  Just when I thought I knew where the book was going, it wouldn’t go that way.  A few times, I felt too many people were dying, but you can’t believe everything you’re told in this book.

The book is an adrenaline rush.  Jenkins delivers a nice red “bow” at the end, but it works.

Another interesting fact: this book is a rewrite of Jenkins novel “The Operative.”  In the foreword, Jenkins talks about how he rewrote his first love with 20 more years of experience of novel writing under his belt.  He asks the reader to pay attention to how he does the dialogue with his characters.  He doesn’t use the traditional “he said” or “she said.”  The setup sentence before or after tells you who is speaking.  It worked for me.  I only got lost a handful of times on who was doing the talking but I quickly figured out the voice.

I asked Jenkins if I could read the first version, “The Operative.”  Jenkins promises that if he has a copy to spare, he’ll let me read the old version.  I think it will be a fun exercise.  Thanks for allowing me to read the book, Mr. Jenkins.

My heart was racing.  My eyes and brain were working feverishly together to read as fast as possible.  I felt anxious, nervous, trapped -  maybe to the point of claustrophobia.  You don’t think “Room” by Emma Donoghue will illicit those kinds of emotions.  Then, she grabs you with a few more emotions you didn’t think you’d notice, let alone feel.

I read a review for this book in “Newsweek” a long time ago.  I put it in my “I think I”d like to read this book” category, but about as quickly as I read the review, I forgot about the book.  I’m glad our neighbor read the book and suggested it for book club.  The book does not disappoint.

At first, I wasn’t sure I could read a story from the point of view of a 5-year-old boy.  I initially found him to be quite annoying.  He seemed to have a good vocabulary and could speak beyond his years, but you’re reading his thoughts, so his thought patterns were very broken and at first, hard to follow.  I got used to it, and I credit the author for getting inside the mind of a 5-year-old boy and making you feel like he’s really the one explaining everything.  The boy uses proper nouns for everyday things, because in his world, they are important and personal enough to capitalize. Table, Blanket, and Sink are the only friends he knows.

The story is about a boy born from captivity.  Going back farther, his mom was kidnapped and kept in a 12 x 12 shed with no windows, just a skylight.  Her kidnapper continuously abused her (physically, emotionally and sexually) and got her pregnant.  She gave birth to Jack in that room all alone and raised him cut off from the outside world, other than a TV set and semi-regular nightly visits from their captor.

The mom in this book is faced with a harsh reality that she and her son will never leave that room.  How do you raise a child in an atmosphere like that?  She has to decide whether or not to tell the boy about the outside world or to explain that what he sees on TV or reads about in books is all make-believe.  I don’t know how you could make that decision knowing you’ve sealed your fate in a small room or given you and your son false hope of leaving.

She also makes another calculated decision: her captor, the boy’s father, is never to look at, talk to or touch the boy.  She makes Jack hide in the wardrobe when the captor comes for his visits.

I don’t want to be a spoiler.  I want you to experience everything I did when I read the book.  Let me just say this:  The social and personal dynamics of this book are complex.  I didn’t expect it but looking back, those dynamics and all the reasons why make sense.  This mother and son have to survive first, but they also have to try to find a way to live and grow emotionally, spiritually, and physically.  You’d be amazed at how that happens in such a small space with so few resources.

The book ends abruptly, but appropriately.

“Room” is a great book for book clubs.  I can’t wait for our Friday night meeting to see where the conversation goes.

Last week, after standing outside for my nightly report with layer upon layer and with nearly every part of my skin covered (twice), I found a solution to combat the cold:  buy a swimsuit.

It’s been seven years since I’ve purchased a suit, and my last swimsuit purchase was a Target special.  It was a wonderful suit that worked when my body had recently changed into a  (how do I say this delicately) motherly shape, post-baby.  I must say, that suit has treated me well.  The elastic only recently started to give and the bottoms are now a bluish-gray instead of the original navy blue. I really love the suit, but it is time to say good-bye.

While shopping online (yes – online), the first thing that popped in my mind was:  why does a tiny piece of Lycra have to cost so much money?  Really?  I barely spend that kind of money on a nice pair of jeans that I’ll wear every day, let alone something I’ll only wear to a pool for an hour or two at a time (a whole day if I get lucky and win a beach vacation).  I went online to find a bargain and all I found was headache after headache after headache.  Plenty of choices out there, if you’re willing to pay for it.  I must have expensive tastes, because every time I’d see something that would combine function with fashion, it would cost more than my winter coat.

I also noticed, the tinier the suit, the more expensive it is.  Again, why would I pay more money for less fabric?

(Ooh, I have purchased another suit in the past seven years.   It was hot pink and I ordered it online, again, in spite of my intuition telling me not to buy before you try.  The hot pink two-piece creation was only a temporary friend of summer, because the suit was for me when I was pregnant with my second child.  It covered everything splendidly and I enjoyed the fact the suit gave me room to grow.  No belly-revealing two-piece here.)

Continuing the hunt, I found I am not quite ready to resign to a matronly-looking suit.  I like wearing two-piece suits, alright bikinis.  However, I’m not 21 anymore, so I do have to pick my battles with skin and stretchy material carefully.  Agonizing over the endless top and bottom choices almost drove me insane.  Also, as I mentioned, I didn’t want to spend a fortune, so I kept my searches to “clearance” and “sale.”  I think I have found a happy medium that covers what it should but doesn’t look like a tent.  Basic black.

So, bring on the next round of arctic air.  I will soon have a new swimsuit delivered to my door.

I purchased “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”  by Stieg Larsson a year-and-a-half year ago, after my wonderful co-worker-turned-law-school student Jessica Michaels suggested the book to me.  I finally read it.  Shame on me for waiting for so long.  Sorry to disappoint you, Jessica.

This book reminds of me of a John Grisham novel:  corruption, intrigue, deception, mystery.  But Larsson takes his tale to the depths of human ugliness.  The book is filled with sick and twisted people, not just corrupt money-hungry mafia-types.

The plot was amazing but the characters were my favorite part.  Each person had a back story worth telling and they had depth.  Every layer they revealed fit with their character and their adaptations to situations were genuine.

I do wonder how much Apple paid Stieg for all the product mentions throughout the book.

I know I’m a couple of years behind the hype, but I am looking forward to reading Stieg’s other novels.  It is unfortunate he died before penning the fourth book.  I certainly hope people will leave it alone and not try to write it for him.  Now, if a beloved family member wants to try, then I am all for that path.  I feel very few people have the qualifications to craft another person’s masterpiece.  I fear any attempt would only be a poor imitation.

My daughter is a Daisy Girl Scout this year.  For those of you who have been out of the scouting loop for awhile, Daisies are for Kindergartners and first graders.   Daisies are not required to sell cookies, but are encouraged to try their hand at selling to friends and family.

Not my daughter.

She was ready to go Saturday morning at 7:30 to start knocking on doors around the neighborhood (friend or foe).  I told her we at least had to wait until 10 a.m.  We began with the people we know and they generously put in their cookie orders.

Not good enough.

My daughter slapped on her pink helmet (with daisies), grabbed her scooter, and glided her way around the neighborhood to earn a few more sales.  She would decide strategically which doorbell to ring and which doorbell to pass.  Again, our neighbors generously obliged, filling out the order form.  I had to explain “no soliciting” to her, but she got the drift.

I admired her spirit, tenacity, politeness, and courage.  She set a goal that I thought was way too high, but she has surpassed that goal and almost doubled it.

Our cookie-selling experience reminded me of how Girl Scouts gave me a foundation for what I do every day.  I knock on the doors of strangers and ask them to invite me inside their homes (safety note: Girl Scouts are not advised to go inside anyone’s home).  While I don’t ask people to part with their money (or their waistline), I do ask them to let me into their hearts and minds and have them tell me their story of triumph or sorrow.  Many times that’s a tough sell, and I don’t have a cute vest with patches.

Our cookie outing inspired me to look back to see what a difference Girl Scouts made in my life.

What I’ve learned from Girl Scouts:

1.  How to start a fire.

2.  How to use and clean a knife.

3.  How to use lipstick against ticks.

4.  How to pitch a tent.

5.  How to set and achieve goals.

6.  How to have courage when you just don’t think you have any courage left.

7.  How to keep a pen pal for nearly 15 years.

“When Harry Met Sally” is my all-time favorite chick flick/romantic comedy.  “Sleepless in Seattle” was also very cute, but had a little too much cheese in it for me (I still cry during all the appropriate scenes).  “You’ve Got Mail” – wonderful!  Maybe I just like Meg Ryan movies.

The writer of those movies (and director of “Sleepless” & “Mail”) now comes to me in book form: “I Feel Bad about My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman” by Nora Ephron.

Dare I say – I’m too young to read this book.

I don’t want to know my neck will look like a withered tree trunk sooner rather than later.  I already know my future teenage children will hate me, and I’ve been highlighting my hair since my 20s, so why stop now and why feel guilty about it?

I did laugh about her “getting old” message, and it took me no time to read the book.  I do think that if you read this book, you have to be in an accepting frame of mind.  I found a lot of her essays on life a little depressing.  I think if she were to tell me her ideas over the phone or in person, I would have received the message differently.  Again, “When Harry Met Sally” – brilliant!  In a book, in black and white, in print, I felt put off and depressed.  But again, I laughed in agreement during certain chapters.

Ephron talks about everything from falling in love with her New York apartment, to being a JFK intern, to boycotting purses.

I don’t know what I wanted from this book, but when I was done, I didn’t get was I was looking for.  I don’t blame the author.  I think time was on her side and not mine.  Maybe I’ll read it again in a couple of decades and see what I think then.

Even though I think I’m too young to read this book, I wonder what it would have been like to read a book like this in my 20s.  She does give a glimpse of the future, even if it is with a sarcastic realist tone.  In fact, I’d love for a 20-something to read this book and give me her thoughts.