The BookFetish Blog

The whole time I was reading Lauren Myracle’s Shine, I kept thinking this could be the next IMPORTANT book. Important in exposing an ugly underbelly in the same way To Kill A Mockingbird was important in exposing racism.

In the small mountain town of Black Creek, North Carolina, local youth Patrick Truman has been the victim of a horrible hate crime. No one in law enforcement is looking too hard to find his attacker,  so Patrick’s childhood friend, Cat, takes it upon herself to find out who has nearly killed her friend.

The deeper Cat looks, the more she discovers about her town. She always knew they were poor, but she didn’t realize the hold meth and other drugs had taken on Black Creek. As Cat reaches out to her former friends and struggles with her own demons from years gone by, she sees more and more what the cycle of poverty and hopelessness can breed.

This is one of those books that I started reading and just couldn’t stop. I saw Cat’s world. My heart hurt for her, for Patrick, for the others trapped in this town with no real hope for a better life. I even felt sorry for Patrick’s attacker, but for reasons I won’t go into here because that would be a spoiler. But that’s what a great storyteller can do- make you detest a character for their actions, but at the same time understand part of their psyche.

I say this is potentially one of those Important books because of the subject matter it covers. I remember when we read To Kill A Mockingbird in school, my English teacher commented on how the deepest lessons of the book were revealed in  Scout’s innocent childhood perspective.  In many ways, Shine is the same.  The church ladies say what a shame it is that Patrick was attacked, but at the same time, if he just hadn’t acted so “swishy” maybe it wouldn’t have happened. The Sheriff isn’t looking too hard for a suspect. The adults are content to think it was out of town kids passing through, looking for a cheap thrill.  Instead, it is sixteen year old Cat who is challenging her friends,  her community, her family, and herself to find justice for Patrick.

Important, too, because Cat’s community is all too common in reality. Small towns all over are being destroyed by never-ending cycles of illiteracy, poverty, and drugs.  Too many people-regardless of where they live- still harbor prejudices against people who are different in any way.  Books like Shine expose these issues and start a dialog in ways that engage people, force us to look at ourselves and make decisions about the kind of people we are going to be.

I came across Shine after reading about this controversy on Twitter this week. It’s my first Lauren Myracle book, but I’ll definitely be reading more.

Don’t let the fact that Shine is Young Adult Literature stop you. Go. Get Shine now, and happy reading.

Jennifer Weiner’s Fly Away Home is my selection for the September Chick Lit Plus Reading Challenge.

I listened to, rather than read, this book.  Fly Away Home tells the story of Sylvie Woodruff and her daughters, Diana and Lizzie. Married for more than thirty years, Sylvie learns that her husband, Senator Richard Woodruff has had an affair.  Sylvie retreats to her family’s beach home in Connecticut to figure out what she wants to do with her marriage, and is ultimately joined by her daughters.

Affairs by politicians and celebrities are nothing new. But Jennifer Weiner explores what happens to the spouses. The betrayed women who stand, at least for a time, beside their contrite husbands.  It is certainly chick-lit, but that doesn’t mean it is dumb. Sylvie, Diana, and Lizzie are all complex characters.  They all are dealing with their own baggage, struggling to just get it right every day.

I typically listen to audiobooks only during my commute, but with this one, I found myself looking for chances to listen.  I was pulled into the story because Sylvie wasn’t weak.  Sure, she was blindsided, but she didn’t just wither up. She also didn’t hatch some crazy revenge plan. She just coped.  Diana and Lizzie weren’t cliched characters, either.  They each bring some depth to their story, and just enough realism to be identifiable.

The thing I liked best is that Weiner could have gone with a typical melodramatic climax. Instead, it was much more subtle, and to me, all the more real. Often times, we don’t recognize the significance  of events while we are in them.

If you’re a “smart” chick lit fan, then check out this one!

Years ago, when I first read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, I remember not liking it very much.  But when I heard about it being made into a film, I got interested in it again, and decided to make it this year’s selection for Banned Books Week.

I finished it just a while ago, and I am so glad I chose to re-read it.  It’s a wonderful story, and reading it again has forced me to acknowledge some failings of my own youth.

Warning: The rest of this post contains spoilers for the book. If you don’t want to know, stop reading and go buy the book right now, then come back and finish reading my thoughts.

The book banners must have salivated over this one. It has nearly everything they complain about: underage drinking, drugs, mentions of suicide and rape, homosexuality and abuse.  Because we all know that if we don’t read about these things, they don’t happen.

But this is a beautifully written book, often bittersweet. It’s honest and hopeful and so much like adolescence that the crime here is not the content, it is encouraging someone to NOT read it.  I realized as I was reading that the reason I didn’t like the book the first time had nothing to do with the book itself. It was me.  I wasn’t ready for the book yet. I was too uptight. I saw the world in black and white and no shades in between. I believed people were good or bad, and that if you were “good” there were things you did and things you didn’t do.

I naively assumed that I didn’t know anyone who was gay, or who smoked a little pot once in a while, or who would commit suicide. I was a swot, I know.  I’m reformed now and a much better person for it.  Because the thing was, I did have gay friends- they just hadn’t come out yet.  And apparently everybody but me knew what 4:20 was.  And sadly, we were only a few short months away from a classmate taking his life.  If I had just been less close-minded and more open to what this book was saying, I could have learned a few valuable life lessons (and been happier) much earlier.

So going back, now, as an adult reading this book, I see its beauty and relevance to youth- and to adulthood. And I wish I’d understood the impact of it at the time. Everyone is lonely and out of place sometimes. Even the people who appear to have everything together have a moment of self-doubt. We all have secrets, some deeper and more impacting than others. The “dark” subjects that are in this book? They’re all around us. And they’re a part of the people we care about. And not acknowledging these things only keeps us from being truly honest with each other.

There are so many wonderful things about this story- the friendships Charlie develops with Sam and Patrick and others; Charlie’s relationship with his family; Charlie’s self doubt and realization that he will be OK.  Charlie learning the truth, learning to be honest, learning to heal, learning to feel.

The Perks of Being a Wildflower is one of those books that might be under-appreciated by its target audience. But maybe not. I think young adults today are aware of a lot more than I was at that same age.   It’s message is timeless, and anyone who suffered an awkward adolescence will certainly share an affinity for the kids in this story. Go, read it now.

This weekend, I read the first in a new trilogy by Debora Geary, Witches on Parole. I like Geary’s other “Witch” books, so I eagerly jumped into this one… and recognized myself in a scary way.

If you want to read Geary’s book without spoilers, stop reading now. While this post isn’t a book review, I will be talking a lot about one character’s storyline.

One of the witches on “parole” is Elsie. She’s a repressed therapist, looking for a way to refresh her approach to ethics. Except, that’s a surface answer. In reality, Elsie’s looking for a way to set her inner fire witch free.

So how on earth am I Elsie?  Because I’m certainly not a fire witch.  But let’s take the witching out of it for a minute. Elsie had been repressing a portion of herself.  She was challenged at one point in the story to do something for herself that would bring her pleasure and joy.  At first she didn’t know what that was.

Sounds odd, doesn’t it?  I’ve been there.  There was a time, not long ago, when I couldn’t tell you what made me feel really, viscerally happy. Or sad. Or angry. Scary stuff, when you don’t know, anymore, what makes you tick.  When you never really feel anything deeply, happy or sad.  Just there. Simply existing.

I remember realizing how disconnected I had become. And I remember resolving to do something about it. A line from Leonard Cohen stuck with me, and even now is something of  a mantra I use whenever I need it: I couldn’t feel, so I learned to touch.  I may not be using it the way Cohen intended, but for me it’s this:

I couldn’t feel anything deeply, so I resolved to touch more. To  make an effort to be fully present in the moment. To rediscover the things I cared about, or could even be (dare I think it?) passionate about. To figure out, better late than never, who I really am and embrace that.

It’s not been easy, and I’m not done. I’ll make great progress for a while and then I’ll be dragged back into the mundane, and I’ll forget to touch, forget to be authentic. I’ll get back into the mold of what other people expect me to be, and I’ll put walls up to protect myself. That’s when I make myself break out the funky jewelry or paint my fingernails green and read books about creativity and misfits and being true to oneself. Usually I make myself try something new, too. Preferably something that makes me get out of the house and interact with people.

And it’s why, when I read about Elsie today, I saw so much of myself.  There’s fear in learning to feel again. In opening up oneself to new experiences. To being vulnerable and open with other people and not being so damned independent all the time. I think (I hope) I was never as rigid and unyielding and predictable as “old Elsie” but I was close. It was safe and it got the job done. But had that been my life, I would have regretted not doing so much.

I had such an identification with Elsie that it is obvious to me that I’ve been on the repressed side again lately.  A good reminder that it is so important to live authentically, and passionately. To at least feel. To spend time on the things that matter and do let go of the things that don’t.  And that is my task now.

Sarah Matthews has what some people- maybe most- consider to be the perfect life. She’s married to a wonderful guy, is mom to two adorable kids, and runs a business part time with her sister-in-law. From the outside everything looks perfect. Everything should BE perfect. So why is Sarah having recurring nightmares?

An opportunity from her former boss gives Sarah a chance to find herself again while on assignment in Paris.

What I liked about Until the End of Forever is Sarah’s thought process. I don’t know a woman who can’t identify with Sarah’s struggles about who SHE is, once she’s also defined as “HIS wife” and “THEIR mom”   or any of the other labels we wear- friend, lover, employee, sister, daughter, boss… It’s easy to understand how getting caught up in those roles can make you lose your own identity.  I’ve talked about this very thing with friends, and I think that is the inherent value of the story: it is so relatable.

Equally authentic are the reactions of Sarah’s friends and family when they learn of her discontent. When things look perfect from the outside, our friends and family often do not want to hear that the perfection is an illusion. They think we are selfish for not being content or happy with what they perceive as more than adequate,  or even enviable. Shannon Hart shows that perfection is often a veneer, and that having all the right things doesn’t bring happiness. Through Sarah, she reminds us that happiness and contentment come from being our authentic selves.  It’s a lesson the bears repeating.

When I started reading the book, I was distracted by some awkward phrasing.  I feel it is only fair to warn you about that, but I also think the merits of the story far outweigh any of these errors.  I look forward to reading more from Shannon Hart.  I think any woman who has ever struggled with wondering where SHE is in the midst of all the other roles she plays will really enjoy Until the End of Forever.

If you’re interested in learning more about Shannon Hart’s blog tour, head over to her tour page. Everyone who leaves a comment there will be entered to win a $10 Amazon gift card.