This morning I headed over to the local farmers’ market to get some strawberries. My dad bought rhubarb, so I thought I’d make a pie. (I’ll let know how it goes.) While I was there, I saw some great dogs, including a pair of my favorites, basset hounds named Mabel and Molly. I still smell like them, which is great.

Then, I stopped at some yard sales, looking for cheap dishes to compliment my collection and increase my dinner party capacity. No luck there, but I did get a copy of Ondaatje’s Anil’s Ghost in unabridged cassette, so I can listen to that in the car.

On the way home, I swung into a different branch of our local library, and I was blown away. The space is gorgeous, the collection large, and the staff amazing. I even signed up for the Adult Summer Reading program, which is aptly themed around food. Great stuff.

Finally, I got a message from someone I didn’t expect to hear from for a while, and I’m so excited to be in contact.

A great day so far, and I’m wishing you the same. Off to try this pie.

Filed by Andi at 10:17 am under Book Recommendations, Uncategorized
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As I slow down, finally, I’m starting to find my own thoughts again. It seems I’ve been pushing so hard for so long, trying to work out so many things in my head, that I have lost track of what I actually think or feel or enjoy. Can anyone relate to that?

But this week, I have tried to pull back from people, even dear friends, so that I can get a little focus. I’ve spent a lot of time alone, which at first always makes me very sad, but then always leads to perspective, insight, and a geniune self-like (that may sound proud, but the truth is I kind of like who God has made me to be – I hope you like yourselves as well). So I come to this Friday, content. It’s nice.

As I’ve moved through this week, I’ve read a lot, as I’m sure you’ve noted from the number of book reviews I’ve posted. I’ve really liked everything I’ve been reading, but for the past few months, one book has been a touchstone for me, The Sun Magazine’s publication The Mysterious Life of the Heart: Writing from The Sun about Passion, Longing, and Love. This anthology features some of the absolute best writing some one of the absolute best magazines around; each piece is gorgeous and wrenching in the way all powerful things are.

The collection takes shape as a relationship would beginning with dating, moving into marriage/partnership, exploring those relationships, looking at the way marriages/partnerships dissolve, and then moving back into how these relationships heal, shatter, and endure. Honestly, this is the best anthology I’ve ever read. There’s a consistency in the quality and tenor of the pieces and a beauty to it’s construction. I’ve been reading this book for months, not because it’s hard to read but because I really want to savor each piece, suck it into myself, let it become part of my circulatory system, live with these words, because these words are helping me find my way back to myself. Each time I read a piece, I think, “Wow, that must have been hard. I can’t even imagine.” Then, I think, “I know just what she means.” Or “That’s what I felt like when . . . ” I learn about others’ experiences while understanding my own. This book speaks of what words are supposed to do.

Yesterday, I read Michelle Cacho-Negrete’s essay “And Passion Most of All” about her visit to a friend who was dying of cancer. The piece speaks of all the complexities involved in friendship, in grief, in dying, in loving, in dating, in marriage – yet the story is so simple – it’s one woman trying to be the best friend she can be while she is also losing the best friend she has. The writing is gorgeous, and I’ve been thinking about it for hours. Powerful stuff, here.

So please order it from The Sun – support the magazine but more importantly, support yourself. Give yourself this gift. You deserve it, you know you do.

– The Mysterious Life of the Heart Edited by Sy Safransky with Tim McKee and Andrew Snee.

Filed by Andi at 8:27 am under Book Recommendations, Uncategorized
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In the past few weeks, I have been reading – partially by intention, partially by whim – a lot of books written specifically for women. Typically, I frown on such books for a couple of reasons that don’t seem to be entirely accurate given my recent reading.

First, I always thought that chic lit was light and fluffy with no real complexity in plot or character. I enjoyed reading Bridget Jones’ Diary in grad school (as part of a cultural studies class on contemporary Britain), and I certainly related to it, but I didn’t find it deeply engaging. Here, I would rather have seen the movie.

But in the recent books I have been reading – Garth Nix’s Abhorsen Trilogy, Jennifer Crusie’s Strange Bedpersons, and Staci and John Eldredge’s Captivating – I find women of depth, idiosyncracy, strength, and contradiction. That’s really nice.

Secondly, I thought most women’s literature, particularly romance novels (of which Crusie’s is one – published by Harlequin under the imprint HQN), portrayed women as weak and unable to move ahead in life without a man to rescue them, take care of them, and save them. While, as is true for many women, I do want that hero, that man who will make it all right, I have never felt that counting on men to do that for me was a wise idea. Sometimes, it has to be about God and me, just the two of us, no knight in shining armor included.

But the books I listed above seem to delve more into the complexities of how contemporary women reconcile their desire for partnership with their own inherent strength and identity. How do we find someone to walk the path of life with without losing ourselves on that person’s path? This question is central to my life – both in dating and in friendship – so it’s really nice to see it explored on the page.

So I must admit my own assumptions about chic lit were biased and shallow, and I am glad to see them broadened and challenged. I’m not sure lots of chic lit will be on my list – I still love those “literary” novels – but at least now I’m more open to it. Open is good.

Yet, I do wish a couple of things for these books. First, I wish there were more same sex relationships represented – either erotic relationships or simple friendships; this seems an area where our female authors are failing us a bit. The complexities of how women relate to one another are beautiful, and I’d love to see that explored more.

Secondly, I’d like to see “chic lit” that explores how a woman bolsters herself up after things with a partner don’t work out. We seem to have some nonfiction doing that (see my reviews of Drunk, Divorced, and Covered in Cat Hair and Blue Jelly), but I don’t know of (enlighten me if you will) of fiction that does the same. Unfortunately, the people we partner our lives with disappoint us and fail us sometimes (just as we disappoint and fail them), so I think some explorations of how to grieve the loss of those relationships without ignoring our anger or letting it turn into bitterness would be something well worth our time and writing energy.

My next book is Mosse’s Labyrinth a tale of strong women again. Maybe I’ll find some more of the things I’m looking for in it’s pages.

– Captivating by John and Staci Eldredge

– Abhorsen Trilogy by Garth Nix

– Strange Bedpersons by Jennifer Crusie

Filed by Andi at 5:55 am under Uncategorized
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Let me begin by saying how much I have loved having hours to read the last few days. I’ve hunkered down for a few hours each afternoon and coursed through pages of story, something I feel like I haven’t done in years. Something I need to do more.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of reading Fault Line by Barry Eisler. Apparently, Eisler is quite well-known for his previous books, but to be honest, when I got asked to review the book, I had never heard of him (such is the life of an English professor, I suppose — too many literary novels, not enough thrillers). And a thriller this is. Set in Northern California (particularly Silicon Valley and San Francisco), the story pursues the life of Alex, a lawyer who has come upon the “hottest” software out there; in fact, it’s so hot that people connected to it are dying. In comes Ben, Alex’s brother and black ops agent for the U.S. government. Angrily, resentfully, but dutifully, Ben comes back across the world to “save” his brother. Meanwhile, Alex’s colleague, Sarah, is also in danger, and so the three become embroiled in a plot to figure out why people are killed for this piece of code and to keep themselves alive.

Eisler mixes in technology, military/spy technique, family pain, and a little romance to pull together a fast-paced novel that keeps the reader interested without leaving her with the feeling of manipulation or hyperbole that many thrillers do. The characters seem real and honest, and from what I know (remember, English teacher here), the guns, the fighting, and the technology ring true as well (although I admit that my knowledge of most of these things comes from watching The Unit on DVD from Netflix.) All in all, the book is very enjoyable.

I wouldn’t recommend this book if you are looking for something that you want to parse apart for glorious language or if you’re going to be studying complex character development – these things are not the purpose of a thriller, and thus, they suffer a bit. Yet, if you want a quick, fun, engrossing read that pulls you out of your world (I hope this isn’t your world) and gives you a way to think about new places (or revisit old ones like I did during the San Francisco scenes) and new adventures, then Fault Line is definitely for you. Take it to the beach; cuddle under a blanket with a cup of coffee; read it at the library while your kids go to story time; teach it (as I might) as a model of narrative arc that works well. It’s versatile and fun – a good summer read.

– Fault Line by Barry Eisler

Filed by Andi at 5:51 am under Book Recommendations
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Sometimes books take a while to get revved up, but when we let them get warm in our hands and settle us into our seats, we find gems in the pages. Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford is one of those books.

The first few pages were a bit slow because they are so subtle. They tell the story of an old man, Henry, who finds himself stunned by a Japanese parasol that has been pulled out of an abandoned hotel in Seattle. Henry has lost his wife, and somehow this parasol triggers that spark of life that he needs to keep going. Ford’s writing embeds the importance of this event in the mundane, but if a reader keeps at it, she will find herself richly rewarded.

The book spans two timeframes in Seattle’s history – the 1980s and the 1940s – and describes the life of a Chinese-American (Henry) and a Japanese-American (Keiko) who become friends as children during World War II. The cultural complexities of that time when internment camps and Chinese nationalism ran high alongside the soft but biting racism against African-Americans give this novel a social dimension that fleshes out a great deal that I did not know (and was not taught) about the 1940s, particularly on the West Coast. I don’t remember ever reading about or hearing a teacher speak about Japanese Internment Camps here on the East Coast, and the mentions I had of that dark stain of American history came only when I lived in California and read Farewell to Manzanar. Maybe out of embarrassment we have tried to erase this element of our history. I’m glad Ford has brought it back to me, for it is only when we hide something that we cannot work to heal it.

But it’s not just the political and cultural elements of the novel that make it a valuable book; the writing and characterization are subtle and complex. None of the characters here are flat; none are simple; none are wholly right or wholly wrong – they are people. Additionally, the novel is well-paced and gripping for a mystery drives the book forward (a mystery I won’t reveal for those of you who will take my advice and pick up this book). Relationships quiver with life on these pages, and the setting – historically accurate Seattle – is rich and rewarding, reminding me a great deal of what I heard about San Francisco during the same time periods. The moments of tenderness and brutality in this book live fully, bringing me to tears and gasps even as I plowed ahead to hear what was next. And Henry, the protagonist, well, I love him – both as a child I want to help and protect and as an old man at whose feet I would like to sit.

Occasionally, Ford’s writing, particularly at the end of chapters, seems a bit forced, like he’s trying to be writerly, but these lines are overlooked in light of the clarity and richness of the story.

So please, pick up Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, carve out a leisurely afternoon, make a cup of green tea, and read the hours away while adding these characters and this history into your mind.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford

Filed by Andi at 6:02 am under Book Recommendations
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