The BookFetish Blog

I first read Emily Giffin’s Something Borrowed several years ago.  In celebration of the movie coming out this weekend, I decided to re-read it before I go see the film.

Rachel and Darcy have been best friends since childhood.   Rachel’s always been the good girl, overshadowed by Darcy’s confidence and stunning looks. Darcy throws Rachel a thirtieth birthday party and at then end of the night, Rachel sleeps with Darcy’s finace, Dexter. While Rachel feels terrible for betraying her best friend, she also realizes that she truly cares for Dex and the story unfolds from there.

Something Borrowed was Giffin’s debut novel, but right away, she brings an intricacy to the plot that many other books that are also classified as chick lit often lack. Rachel could be any of us. Some of us could be Darcy.  Most of us have said, relative to some circumstance, “I could never….”  In this case, it is “I would never be the other woman/cheat with my friend’s boyfriend/have an affair.”  Yet Giffin shows us that in reality, there are no moral absolutes.

After all, Rachel is a nice person. Sure, she’s a bit jealous of Darcy, and has her own insecurities, but who doesn’t? She’s always been a loyal friend, often stepping to the sidelines as Darcy choreographed their friendship. Rachel doesn’t consciously seek out Dex to fall in love with him.  But things happen, and Rachel finds herself in love with the last person she expected, in the worst possible circumstance.  How many of us would be so quick to turn down true love even if it comes at the expense of a social taboo and the destruction of a friendship?  Life is messy.

What Giffin does so well is show the conflicting emotions of her characters. Rachel is both elated and miserable to find herself in love with Dex. Like any of us, she starts out trying to justify her situation.  It forces her to take a good, long look at her friendship with Darcy. Rachel must decide exactly what she’s willing to hold onto in her life, and what is worth risking for true happiness.

I’ve been a fan of Emily Giffin’s since Something Borrowed because of the foundation she sets in this book: Relatable characters in untenable situations who react humanly and realistically to their circumstances.

My Uncle Travis died tonight.  As someone who has a plethora of aunts and uncles, it’s a bit shocking to me how hard this news has hit me.

I think it’s because my own father died nearly 13 years ago, and my Uncle Travis has been one who I’ve looked to as a bit of a father figure since my own dad isn’t here any more.

My heart is breaking a bit right now. For his wife, who I am sure is devastated. For his daughters, who have suddenly lost their dad. For his granddaughters and grandson, who suddenly, inexplicably, no longer have a grandfather. For my mother and her ever-shrinking number of siblings who are burying yet another brother.

Some might call my Uncle Travis a bit henpecked. But he and my Aunt Betty signed notes and cards to each other MTYLTT- that was their shorthand for (I Love You) More Than Yesterday, Less Than Tomorrow.  He was the one I would escape with on Christmas Eve. We’d be sent on errands that would suddenly take us hours more than we planned to finish, and just visit with each other.

And the man made the best pots of coffee I’ve ever tasted.  When my own dad died, I was devastated. He had cancer, all over, and it was bad. His passing came much too soon, but I was a little bit prepared for it.  I wasn’t prepared for this. I’d been to a concert tonight, and on the way home saw that I had multiple voice mails from my mother. A sure sign something is wrong.

Rest in Peace, Uncle Travis,  you’ll be missed far more than you know.

Earlier this year, I tried to start my own Happiness Project.  I confess, I didn’t think about it like I should have and it has largely fallen off my plans for this year.   Maybe next year I’ll pick it back up.

But I’ve decided to start on The Artist’s Way.  This book by Julia Cameron teaches you how to unlock your creativity.  I have been missing something like this since I finished the creative writing classes I took. In my job, somewhat unpredictable travel is common, so signing up for a class I have to attend in person isn’t a good plan for me right now.  I’ve been looking for things I can do on my own but that still use my brain in a different way.

I settled on The Artist’s Way because it seemed to call to me right now. I’ve had the book for ages, but never really committed to the twelve weeks. The time feels right, now.

So I started off on Sunday, deciding to go on a Sunday-Sunday basis.  The book recommends doing something called “Morning Pages”, writing three pages in a notebook every morning.  In a way, it’s a form of meditation, designed to get all the garbage out of you head.  I did my first three pages Sunday night and wow- three pages seems like a LOT.  And Monday morning, three pages felt like a LOT.  But you’re not supposed to go back and re-read these pages, at least for several weeks.  And if you can’t think of what to write for three pages, you can write “I don’t know what to write” so you sort of have an out if three pages seems like a LOT.  You’re allowed to write stuff that is seemingly meaningless.

The thing I noticed Monday morning is that it was easy for me to brain dump at first, listing a litany of things on my mind. But then I started thinking about a work to-do list and it stressed me out to the point that I had to stop the Morning pages and turn on the computer.  I think that is not an example of how this is supposed to work but I simply couldn’t relax until I had turned on the computer and made a few notes.  Once I did that, I was back to filling out my three pages.

I guess that is my first big lesson on this.   While the projects I have at work are important, we’re not, in my case, saving lives with what I do. So why couldn’t I relax enough for 15-30 minutes before work to meditate?

I managed to get in three pages on Tuesday and today as well, although it still seemed like  a LOT.  But both Tuesday and Wednesday, I woke up before my alarm and was ready to write. I’m proud to say very little of what I wrote has been “I don’t know what to write.”  Now I just need to figure out what I am going to do for my Artist’s date this week.  I’m going to a concert on Friday night. That doesn’t technically count, because it is something I am supposed to do on my own.

Maybe I’ll watch a classic movie or something like that. Either way, I’m excited to be embarking on the Artist’s Way.

If you remember, last year I raved over Chevy Stevens’ debut novel Still Missing . I was lucky enough to get an Advance Reader Copy of her new book, Never Knowing, which comes out this summer.

Chevy Stevens is back with another page-turning thriller. This one focuses on Sara’s search to find her biological mother, only to learn she was conceived in an act of terror, and her birth father is still on the loose. And now, he knows Sara exists.

Like Still Missing, Never Knowing is told to us from our heroine’s point of view, revealed in bits and pieces in sessions with her therapist.  It’s a delicious unfolding of the story to be told this way. We see the mundane, the every day frustrations of Sara’s life. But then, we  get the full on terror Sara experiences as she recounts the ever more disturbing encounters with her birth father.

Once again, Stevens explores the intricacies of an imperfect family through Sara’s interactions with her adoptive parents and sisters.  Sara’s long felt out of place in her family, never quite good enough for her father, and her desire to be a good daughter and sister at the same time as she’s finding out who she really is adds another dimension to the story.

One of the most interesting plotlines in Never Knowing, though,  is Sara’s relationship with her birth father. This is a Very Bad Man, beyond the shadow of any doubt, yet Stevens still shows us his humanness. There were times I found myself uncomfortably sympathetic to this despicable character because of the bits of humanity revealed about him.

Just as I did with Still Missing, I found myself glued to Never Knowing. In fact, I read it in one afternoon because I just couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. It freaked me out in a good way, making me notice every little bump in the night after I finished it. You can pre-order Never Knowing now, and the book will be out on 5 July 2011.

There’s no other way to say it, I loved Debora Geary’s A Modern Witch.

I picked it up because one snippet I saw about it compared it to Harry Potter for adults.  That’s true in the fact that our heroine, Lauren, doesn’t know she’s a witch.  To me, that’s really where the similarity ends.  If you’re truly looking a Harry Potter for adults, with an epic battle between good and evil, then this probably isn’t the read for you.  But if you’re open to something that embraces the softer, more nuanced side of magic, with an emphasis on relationships, then keep reading.

Now, fair warning.  I’m going to get a little sentimental in this review. Some might even say “gushy”. Apologies in advance, this just resonated with me, and I have to talk about it.

Lauren, a Chicago realtor, is great at her job because of the uncanny ability she has to match her clients with their perfect home. Ordering her groceries online one evening, Lauren is summoned to a witch’s chat by a fetching spell. Lauren denies she’s a witch, but the fetching spell can’t be wrong, and so begins our story.

Geary unravels the tale at just the right pace, bringing in a great cast of characters. There are the witches who train Lauren how to harness her newfound powers; The Irish Matriarch of the witches; Lauren’s best friend; and a four year old boy who just happens to be the most powerful witch born in generations.  Each has his or her strength, and each contributes uniquely to the story.

I said I loved this book. And I did. I loved it because there was just enough magic to the tale.  If you have any appreciation for the elements, for crystals and herbs, for the power of intuition, then I think you’ll understand the appeal of the magic Geary uses.  I liked the way Geary has Lauren begin to understand and (minor spoiler) eventually embrace her powers.  But what sealed the deal for me?  I loved how much love there was in this book.  Yes, some romantic love. But really, it’s the love of a community. How supportive the witches are of each other; the deep bond that exists between Lauren and her best friend Nat.  It’s ultimately a very happy story.

I’ll admit it, I teared up a bit at the end. Sappy, yes. But there was just so much love within the story that it made me feel hopeful.  Maybe, also, a bit wistful.  Because who wouldn’t embrace a little bit more love, a little bit more magic, coming into their lives?

It looks like A Modern Witch is just the first in a series, and I cannot wait to read more.