The BookFetish Blog

Today, I’m happy to be a part of a blog tour for Linda Lael Miller’s Big Sky Mountain.

Back in June, I shared with you an excerpt from Linda Lael Miller’s Big Sky Country. Today, you get an excerpt from her other summer release, Big Sky Mountain.  Keep reading to see a snippet, find out how you can win a copy of the book, and check out the rest of the tour.

From Big Sky Mountain

It was almost enough to make a person believe in love again, Kendra thought glumly, watching these two.

“Not a chance, cowboy,” Joslyn replied, almost purring the words. “We made this baby together and we’re having it together.”

Kendra was really starting to feel like some kind of voyeuristic intruder when Opal came out of the pantry, looked Slade over from behind the thick lenses of her glasses, and demanded, “Just where do you think you’re going, Slade Barlow? Didn’t I just say I’m starting supper?”

Slade straightened, smiled at Opal. “Now don’t get all riled up,” he cajoled. “I’m just going out to check on the horses, not driving a herd to Texas.”

“Do I look like I was born yesterday?” Opal challenged, with gruff good humor. “You mean to saddle up and ride. I can tell by looking at you.”

Now, all you have to do to win a copy of the book is 1) have a US or Canadian mailing address, and 2) leave a comment. A winner will be chosen at random.

Please take to to check out other parts of  the tour here.

Thanks for stopping by!

I’ve worked very hard this election season to stay relatively apolitical- sharing things with only a few people in private messages, rather than posting on my own feed.

But the comments revealed over the last few days scare me, and I feel compelled to say this:

It TERRIFIES me that people in leadership in this country are trying to redefine rape. Atticus Finch said it well: “Carnal knowledge by force and without consent” and dictionary.com seems to have it well defined, too: unlawful compelling of a person through physical force or duress to have sexual intercourse; any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person.

Rape is Rape.  Well, rape was  rape until last year when Paul Ryan and Todd Akin and 170 others co-sponsored House Resolution 3– it passed by the way, but stood no chance in the Senate. The point of the resolution was to further restrict a woman’s right to choose, but fundamental to the resolution was language that would have changed  rape language in the Hyde Amendment for  “no federal funds for abortion” exceptions from “rape, incest, or mother’s life in jeopardy” to “forcible rape”.  Thankfully, after pressure that “forcible”rape was removed from the language, but the damage has been done.  While I have much to say on the issue of choice, I’m talking about rape and pregnancy here.  So, had these congress people had their way, Rape would have been forcible or non-forcible- I’d love to  see how on earth they planned to ever differentiate between the two.

Then this week, along comes Akin, with his comments about “legitimate” rape, and how women who are “legitimately” raped won’t get pregnant. Sigh. Although Akin now says he “misspoke” I think we all know that he believes some rape just isn’t rape. That in some cases, the victim is asking for it. And this man sits on the House Science Committee.  Which, given his gullibility in believing a rape can’t result in pregnancy, is completely absurd.

Enter Representative Steve King, who in his support of Akin, commented that he’s never known of a case of a young girl becoming impregnated through rape or incest, but that he’d be open to the discussion if someone brought it to his attention.  Representative King says his comments are “out of context”.

I’m appalled, angered, and insulted  by the comments of Representatives Akin and  King. Their comments are ignorant and undermine victims of rape and incest. And by attaching labels like “legitimate” and “forcible” to rape, they- intentionally or not- engage in victim blaming and the belief that some victims are asking for it.

 
I spent summers in college working at an OB-GYN office. I will never forget the pair of teenaged sisters who came in. They were in their young to middle teens, and both were victims of rape by a family member. I recall that one of them, perhaps both, was pregnant by her stepbrother.

So, Mr. Akin, and Mr. King and any other congressperson or Senator who doubts it or wants to redefine it, rape happens. And rape is rape regardless of how it occurs or who the victim is and no matter the victim’s history.  And sometimes, women and girls get pregnant from it. Don’t insult us with your pathetic renderings of “legitimate rape” and forcible rape and your deplorable lack of understanding of basic human biology- perhaps if  sex education were more robust, you would have understood how pregnancy occurs from your health and biology classes.

This comes down to a veiled- or maybe not so veiled – attempt to control women (I know that women are not the only victims of rape, but they are the larger proportion of victims). This kind of language makes it even harder to talk about rape because suddenly we’re having to talk about what Rape is again, or if a woman can “deserve it”, and  what, exactly, constitutes forcible? Was she really raped? Akin and King don’t represent me. I don’t want anyone who thinks like they do- regardless of gender or political party- attempting to be my leader. I don’t want them as friends, I don’t want them in my life at all.  These men should be ashamed. And while there’s been a general backlash against Akin, I’m more concerned that it’s politically motivated rather than an honest angry reaction.

Well, I’m angry. And women and men I know are angry. And we’re going to do our best to make sure that no one with these archaic and hateful and hurtful views ever serves in public office. If you’re angry, too, please do your part as well.

The bracelet pictured here is my own, and I got it here, if you’re interested. Alex and Ani + Energy are in no way associated with this post and the picture of this bracelet imply their endorsement (or even knowledge) of this piece.

Jessica Valenti’s The Purity Myth is a book that, were it read by a broader audience, would be best described as polarizing. Given the number of positive reviews on Amazon, I’m going to wager that few in the Purity movement have read the book- or else are very restrained in their desire to review.  I myself have struggled with how much of my own viewpoints to put in this review, mainly because I agree with the case Valenti is making, and that is an emotional reaction.  I’ll be honest, this one fired me up,  and angered my inner activist.

At the heart of The Purity Myth is an examination of what is called the Purity movement and it’s impact on women and society’s views on women.

The Purity Myth examines the impact of the growing societal obsession (by some) with chastity and virginity on young women. In fact, the book examines how our hyper-sexualized culture in general places a woman’s (or girl’s) worth on her sexuality- she’s either chaste and “good” or a girl gone wild and “bad”.

Valenti examines the impact of morality based on sexual behavior and proffers this analysis in a social, cultural, and historical context.

For those unfamiliar with the Purity movement, it is a program popular in mostly evangelical christian circles. The premise in a nutshell is that a girl’s most prized possession, her most character defining trait, is her virginity.  At Purity Balls, girls dress up in ball gowns and, accompanied by their fathers, attend a prom-like dinner dance. At this point, the fathers promise to be guardians of their daughter’s chastity until they give her in marriage to a worthy man. Yeah.

In theory, the Purity movement seems to be a nice idea. But what Valenti points out is that it is an outward sign of an overarching ideology that somehow women and girls are not competent enough to make decisions on their own about their sexuality, and that a status of virgin is a better determinant of morality than say, our intelligence, empathy, kindness and any other number of characteristics by which we generally define morality.  Valenti goes on to explore how the Purity movement is really a mechanism for keeping women second class citizens, with impacts more far-reaching than they initially appear.

I’m glad I read The Purity Myth. While I thought at times Valenti might be a bit far-reaching in some of her conclusions, and I would like more time to examine the context of some of the sources she cites (as I like to do with anything controversial I read) I believe that she is on to a fundamental truth. Tying up a woman’s worth with whether or not she is a virgin-  of which Valenti points out there is no standard accepted definition- is detrimental to women and girls. We are so much more than this, and should be judged on our character, not whether or not we meet some arbitrary definition of a virgin.

Although published in 2009, I believe The Purity Myth is particularly relevant to our current political climate and the women’s issues that are,  appallingly in 2012,  up for debate in this election.  If you have any interest in or concerns about the future of women’s rights in this country, I encourage you to read The Purity Myth.

Dare Me is “Heathers” if Heather #1 hadn’t succumbed to a Drano cocktail.  Megan Abbot’s Queen Bee, Beth, is one of the most intense and scariest characters I’ve read in a while, right up there with Amy Dunne from Gone Girl.  It’s terrifying that she’s only in high school.

From the publisher’s summary:

“Addy Hanlon has always been Beth Cassidy’s best friend and trusted lieutenant. Beth calls the shots and Addy carries them out, a long-established order of things that has brought them to the pinnacle of their high-school careers. Now they’re seniors who rule the intensely competitive cheer squad, feared and followed by the other girls — until the young new coach arrives.

Cool and commanding, an emissary from the adult world just beyond their reach, Coach Colette French draws Addy and the other cheerleaders into her life. Only Beth, unsettled by the new regime, remains outside Coach’s golden circle, waging a subtle but vicious campaign to regain her position as “top girl” — both with the team and with Addy herself.

Then a suicide focuses a police investigation on Coach and her squad. After the first wave of shock and grief, Addy tries to uncover the truth behind the death — and learns that the boundary between loyalty and love can be dangerous terrain. ”

I turned the pages of Dare Me with a delicious sense of dread. You know there will be no happy, neatly tied up ending here.  But still, you must turn the page, must know how Beth, Addy, and Coach French betray themselves and each other.  The word I kept using to describe this book as I read it was “intense” and I still think that is an accurate description. But so is “taut.”  This sense of impending doom, of nearly unbearable pressure, of walking a tightrope permeated the plot.

Megan Abbot gives us deeply flawed characters. Addy, always second in command, but who has tasted freedom from Beth’s clutches before, now sees a chance to exist outside of Beth, to be special on her own.  Beth, the queen bee, evil in her manipulation of those around her, but also capable of drawing sympathy  from the reader as we learn more of her story.  And Coach French.  Smothered by her seemingly perfect life, her recklessness in her relationships crosses all kinds of boundaries. She treats her squad more as friends than students, and draws these young women into starkly adult situations.

Dare Me made me glad I’m no longer in high school.  I don’t recall this level of viciousness, this type of intensity. Perhaps we weren’t as bored or as troubled. The cheerleading aspect is merely a means to an end- this could have been a particular theater clique or other group in the school, but the athleticism, the pressure to conform make cheerleading a compelling plot point here. Most all of us know these girls, or were them, or wanted to be them at some point.  Similarly, reading this as an adult, I found myself questioning so many of Coach French’s decisions. We hear so much now of blurred lines between adults and adolescents, and the ones that make the news never seem to have a happy ending.

I recommend Dare Me.  As I’ve said, it’s intense and taut and disturbing, but also a compelling story and one I found I was unable to easily put down.

I read Emily Giffin’s latest release, Where We Belong on a recent Vegas vacation.

“Marian Caldwell is a thirty-six year old television producer, living her dream in New York City. With a fulfilling career and satisfying relationship, she has convinced everyone, including herself, that her life is just as she wants it to be. But one night, Marian answers a knock on the door . . . only to find Kirby Rose, an eighteen-year-old girl with a key to a past that Marian thought she had sealed off forever. From the moment Kirby appears on her doorstep, Marian’s perfectly constructed world—and her very identity—will be shaken to its core, resurrecting ghosts and memories of a passionate young love affair that threaten everything that has come to define her.

For the precocious and determined Kirby, the encounter will spur a process of discovery that ushers her across the threshold of adulthood, forcing her to re-evaluate her family and future in a wise and bittersweet light. As the two women embark on a journey to find the one thing missing in their lives, each will come to recognize that where we belong is often where we least expect to find ourselves—a place that we may have willed ourselves to forget, but that the heart remembers forever.”

As with her previous books, Giffin tells a complex story, where right and wrong are not black and white. Her characters are very human, flawed and relatable. The plot here is interesting, exploring how a knock at the door can change everything about your life. I think about that aspect, because Kirby’s arrival truly does begin to show the cracks in Marian’s supposedly happy life.

Giffin leaves some loose ends with this story, wrapping it up well, but not in a fairy-tale perfect package. Like with her other books, Giffin gives us a glimpse of a previous character. We see Claudia from Baby Proof as a friend of Marian. And, in an especially cool move, Giffin names a character after a real life person, a former clerk at Barnes and Noble who met Giffin when Something Borrowed was first published.

Unlike Giffin’s other books, though, I didn’t feel a strong emotional connection to this one. I enjoyed the story, but there was just something missing in this one for me, like when you meet a guy and he’s perfectly nice and you have a nice time, but there’s no spark. Still, I think fans of Giffin will enjoy the book, and I know I’m already looking forward to her next one.

As a special bonus, Macmillan publishing has provided this excerpt from the Where We Belong audiobook- You can listen to the first 25 minutes of the book: Where We Belong Audio Excerpt