Punny Halloween costumes...

With Halloween coming tomorrow, my greatest challenge is avoiding the bags of candy I've hidden so I don't open them prior to the trick-or-treaters' arrival. And while I don't need a costume, I saw these on the web and couldn't resist sharing, in case someone is in need of inspiration...

Here go some of the "punnier" costumes you'll see:

Dust Bunny

Freudian Slip

Chicken Cordon Blue (It's okay to groan.)

Spice Girl (Hopefully you won't start singing "Wannabe" after this...)

And here's my favorite:

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Book Review: "Any Resemblance to Actual Persons" by Kevin Allardice

Failed child sitcom actor-turned-unpublished author-turned-frustrated college instructor Paul McWeeney has a bit of a problem. His older sister, Edie, aided by memories she has suddenly "recaptured" (or imagined, as far as Paul is concerned), has decided that their Hollywood writer father was the perpetrator in the famed Black Dahlia case. And worse than that, Edie has put her memories down on paper—and this tell-all exposé is about to hit the presses, released by the one publisher Paul has so desperately wanted to work with for years.

While the fact that Edie is about to expose their late father as a violent murderer is certainly upsetting, what is truly sending Paul off the rails is that his sister, who has never succeeded at anything, is about to get her book published, while Paul, whose agent has allegedly been shopping his two novels around for years, can't catch a break. So he does the only sensible thing—he writes a letter to the publisher to tell them Edie is utterly wrong and they should cease and desist from publishing her book or face legal consequences.

"I will disprove all of this. Our father did no such thing. My sister is not of sound mind, and this should disqualify her from having a book published."

Any Resemblance to Actual Persons is Paul's ever-growing missive to the publisher. But in his effort to refute Edie's claims, Paul takes us on a meandering account of his unsatisfying teaching career, his frustration about not being published, his brief stint as a sitcom actor in the mid-1960s, his relationships with members of family, his lack of romantic luck, and pretty much everything else that crosses his mind as it crosses his mind. In short, Paul is about as unreliable as a narrator as he claims Edie is.

As Paul becomes more frantic to debunk his sister's accusations, he becomes even more mired in his own issues—and a growing dependency on Ritalin and other substances isn't helping his increasingly manic nature. Then he realizes that the best offense against Edie's claims is to find the real Black Dahlia killer (despite the fact that the case has baffled Los Angeles detectives for more than 60 years). And he comes up with one doozy of a theory.

"It's just that the more I write, the more I realize there's more to write, since I know what I need to offer here is not simply a dry wrangling of facts: I am also a character witness, after all, someone who can attest to the honorable character of George McWeeney and the mendacious, attention-seeking character of Edie McWeeney."

Paul is a pseudo-intellectual who believes he's far more erudite and knowledgeable than anyone else around him. His letter (all 250+ pages of it) grows more and more rambling, panicky, paranoid, and difficult to follow, as he finds himself unsure whether the memories he's citing are his own, Edie's, or something he's written in his own fictionalized accounts of his life. Some of this is tremendously amusing, but after a while, you begin to realize that Paul is, well, a bit of a bore. As Paul's grip on reality becomes more and more tenuous and his narrative grows more and more feverish, I started to lose interest and focused more on my wondering just how Kevin Allardice was going to tie up the plot rather than what Paul was saying.

Despite its challenges, this is a tremendously unique concept, and Allardice is an excellent writer, as Paul uses five words where one would do. His use of language is impressively creative, and I look forward to seeing where his career takes him.

Movie Review: "All is Lost"

In my favorite movie of all time, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, after a particularly disturbing trip on the "Wonkatania," spoiled Veruca Salt turns to her father and says, "Daddy, I do not want a boat like this."

After watching Robert Redford as a sailor battling the elements all alone in All is Lost, I can unequivocally say, I do not want a boat like this. Or any boat for that matter...

All is Lost opens with Redford's character (listed in the credits only as "Our Man") dictating a note of farewell to someone, remarking that "all is lost," and apologizing. It's a bit of a downer. The movie then flashes back eight days earlier, as he wakes up on his boat somewhere in the Indian Ocean to find it has run aground of a wayward shipping container and sustained some fairly major damage. Water rushes in at a brisk pace, and although clothing, supplies, and equipment are ruined, through some ingenuity (as well as some burlap and glue), he is able to repair the hole and move away from the container.

But that's just the start of his harrowing journey. Although quite an experienced sailor, he faces furies of nature which leave him shaking his head, gasping for breath, fighting for his life, and honestly, wondering what next. Suffice it to say, after battling some colossal storms and sustaining irreparable damage to his boat, he winds up having to abandon ship and seek refuge in a life raft. (And no, he isn't accompanied by a tiger named Richard Parker.)

This is a movie about one man's fight against nature, a fight for his own survival. Redford is the only character in the movie, and he barely speaks—in fact, probably some of the most powerful scenes in the movie are conveyed through facial expressions, gestures, and grimaces. At 77, Redford's face bears all of the crags of age and the wind-beaten ruddiness of an outdoor life. He even does many of his own stunts. And he is powerfully magnetic throughout, whether battling storms or as his courage begins to give way to despair.

The movie reminded me a bit of Gravity in that both films mainly rely on one actor's interactions with the world around them. And much like that film, All is Lost suffers a bit from "what else can go wrong" syndrome from time to time, as just when it appears that Redford's character has found a solution to a problem, his legs are kicked out from under him again. But I felt the former film had a little more heart, because you had the opportunity to get to know Sandra Bullock's character a bit, while Redford's character is kept at an emotional distance from the audience.

I'll admit I wasn't quite looking forward to this movie because I didn't know how nearly two hours of one man lost at sea could hold my interest. It did, although I struggled a bit. It's a tremendously bleak story, and if you aren't familiar with sailing (which I am not), you won't quite understand Redford's actions at the start of the movie. But ultimately, his performance is so powerful, you want to see how he'll handle the next challenge thrown at him. (And if you see this movie, please let me know so we can discuss your interpretation of the ending.)

Needless to say, I'm in no hurry to get on a boat anytime soon...

Book Review: "Son of a Gun: A Memoir" by Justin St. Germain

In Tombstone, Arizona, near the site of the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral is a plaque commemorating Frank and Tom McLaury, brothers who died in the gun battle. It says, "One owes respect to the living. But to the dead, one owes nothing but the truth."

In September 2001, Justin St. Germain's mother, Debbie, was shot to death in a trailer in Tombstone, apparently by her fifth husband. Debbie, her many relationships, and her murder were fodder for gossip among Tombstone's residents, and her death was also sensationalized by the media ("A real-life Old West murder mystery," one news network commented). But for Justin and his older brother, Josh, Debbie's murder leaves them with painful memories, unresolved emotions, and lots of questions.

Justin tries to understand why his mother, an intelligent, independent, feisty, former Army paratrooper, would enter into so many relationships with unstable men who abused her physically and emotionally, and some who even abused her sons. Why would she continue to repeat the same patterns over and over again, knowing she could never change these men, and probably inherently realizing she was on a self-destructive path? Why would a woman so fiercely loyal to her sons, willing to sacrifice everything for them, resign herself to her own unhappiness and potential harm?

For a number of years after his mother's death, Justin tries to build a new life for himself in San Francisco, away from the town where he spent most of his childhood watching and experiencing her dangerous relationships. But even after finding a woman he wants to settle down with, he can't get his mother's murder off his mind. He can't sleep without a gun or other weapon under his bed for comfort. And he still can't seem to get the closure he so desperately needs.

With no other recourse available, Justin returns to Tombstone to try and make some sense of the woman his mother was and the men she married. He meets with his former stepfathers to try and understand their relationships with Debbie, and tries to determine whether everyone missed the warning signs that could have prevented her death. And at the same time, Justin tries to resolve his own feelings for his mother, a woman he simultaneously loved and resented for putting him into so many volatile situations with so many men.

Son of a Gun is a very moving account of a young man's search for answers he probably knows he'll never find. Interspersed with some historical facts about Tombstone and Wyatt Earp, the book accurately describes the range of emotions felt after a loved one is murdered. This is quite compelling—you want everything to be resolved, to know what happened, even as you know it's impossible. Justin St. Germain is a very talented writer, and I hope that he'll continue writing in the future.

Cool cover song of the week...

What would 80s music have been without Hall & Oates? I can't even imagine. So many of their songs remind me of a specific place or time, and I honestly just loved Daryl Hall's vocal range. One of their hits was even on my first K-TEL compilation album (please don't tell me if you don't remember what those were).

I Can't Go for That (No Can Do) was the duo's second hit single off Private Eyes, and the fourth number-one song of their career. It held the #1 spot on the Billboard Hot 100 for 10 weeks in late 1981/early 1982. VH1 ranked the song #6 on its list of the top 100 songs of the 80s, and according to BMI, this is one of 14 Hall & Oates songs that have been played on the radio over one million times.

Indie pop duo The Bird and The Bee released Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: A Tribute to Daryl Hall and John Oates in 2010. While there are a number of great Hall & Oates covers on the album, this one combines a little of the song's soul with a different, slightly twee twist that is the hallmark of The Bird and The Bee's vocals.

Here's their version:

Here's a version by Brian McKnight:

And here's the original. There's no touching this.

Check out my previous Cool Cover Songs of the Week:

Borderline by The Counting Crows

How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee

Life in a Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town, and Jake Owen

I Don't Want to Talk About It by The Indigo Girls

Only You by Joshua Radin

Pure Imagination by Maroon 5

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Blake Stratton

What a Fool Believes by Neri Per Caso

Poker Face by Daughtry

Back to Black by Ronnie Spector

I Will Survive by Cake

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by The Stereophonics

Rolling in the Deep by John Legend

Go Your Own Way by Lissie

Winner Takes it All by McFly

What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Careless Whisper by Seether

I Walk the Line by Live

Dear Prudence by Siouxsie and The Banshees

Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm

Who Wants to Live Forever by Breaking Benjamin

Redemption Song by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

Love Me Tender by Chris Isaak and Brandi Carlile

All You Need is Love by The Flaming Lips

Lovesong by Adele

I Love It by Robin Thicke

Billie Jean by The Civil Wars

Across the Universe by The Scorpions

Can't Hold Us by Pentatonix

Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by The Postal Service

Jolene by The White Stripes

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by Justin Timberlake

More Than This by Norah Jones

Royals by Mayer Hawthorne

Book Review: "The Banks of Certain Rivers" by Jon Harrison

Is it possible for your life to be simultaneously simple and complicated? Just ask affable high school teacher Neil Kazenzakis. After struggling for a number of years following the freak accident that left his wife in a vegetative state and made him sole caregiver of his son, Christopher, the two have a strong bond, and Neil is excited about the possibilities that lie ahead for Christopher's future as he prepares to graduate from high school.

Neil is well-liked by his students and fellow teachers, and for the last two years he has been secretly dating Lauren Downey, a home healthcare nurse who takes care of Neil's mother-in-law. But Lauren wants their relationship to progress to the next level, and wants Neil to reveal the truth to Christopher. But when these pressures, along with an expected incident that leaves Neil's career in jeopardy (not to mention his freedom), the life he has carefully built for himself and his son starts to come down, and reveals there are far more fissures than he is willing to acknowledge.

"It's hard to love things, though. It's especially hard to admit it. In my experience, the minute you admit that you really love something? That's just about the time it decides to go away."

The Banks of Certain Rivers is a story about a man whose life was once rocked to its core, and when circumstances again force him to confront challenges he wasn't prepared for, he isn't sure how to react, or how to help those around him. It's a story about love, about being alive, and about the courage to admit when you're wrong, when you're scared, or when you're just not sure what your next step should be. And more than that, this is a beautifully moving story about relationships, and how moving on doesn't negate your memories.

Jon Harrison did a really great job with this novel. I enjoyed so much of this story, particularly the relationships between Neil and Christopher, and Neil and his best friend, Alan, and I also found Neil's strategies to cope with his wife's condition tremendously moving. I wish, however, that this had been the whole of the plot—I found the issue with Neil's job a distracting afterthought and its connection to the rest of the story was tangential at best. There was more than enough drama without it, and I felt that the more time the story focused on the case, the more it veered away from the elements that made the book so enjoyable.

Despite that issue, however, I thought this was a wonderful book and I read it in its entirety on a plane ride. It was moving, funny, and heartfelt, and definitely worth reading. I look forward to seeing how Jon Harrison's career progresses.

Book Review: "The Double" by George Pelecanos

George Pelecanos may be one of the finest crime writers around, but for reasons I can't quite figure out, he's not nearly as well-known as a number of less talented writers in the genre. While his work on the acclaimed television series The Wire has increased his name recognition a bit, it's a shame that more people aren't aware of the talent this man has to draw magnetic yet flawed characters, compellingly twisted plots, and crackling action.

His latest novel, The Double, is another example of Pelecanos at the top of his game. Young, dogged private investigator Spero Lucas, first introduced in Pelecanos' The Cut, returns. Iraq War veteran Spero works as an investigator for Washington, D.C. attorney Tom Petersen, but with a strong sense of duty to right wrongs, he also does some freelance work on the side. Petersen asks him to find evidence that might exonerate his client, Calvin Bates, who is accused of murdering his girlfriend. All the evidence points toward Bates, but Spero has his suspicions, and will do all he can to track down the truth, or at least give Petersen enough information to raise reasonable doubt among jury members.

Meanwhile, Spero is asked by a friend to help Grace Kinkaid, a woman emotionally and sexually manipulated by her magnetically powerful ex-boyfriend. But the man also took something valuable from Grace—a prized painting—and she wants Spero to get it back. Spero finds that this man is the center of a much larger scam—and he and his partners are just aching for someone to come looking for them. Spero will have his hands full—which is just the way he likes it.

As his work is heating up, his emotions are working overtime. When he meets an older, married woman, he falls hard, even though he knows their relationship has no future. And although he has always been tremendously active in working with and helping other Iraq War veterans struggling with PTSD and life after the war, Spero has never really experienced the side effects of his time in the military, but he is starting to find his mind drifting into places it shouldn't go.

The Double is the story of a man who knows the difference between right and wrong, but isn't above crossing over to the dark side in order to protect someone or avenge a crime. It is also the story of a man who has always been able to hold his life together, until he finally starts to realize he might not be as together as he thinks he is.

Like so many of Pelecanos' books, this is an excellent mix of character development, action, and suspense, and it hooks you from the beginning. Spero Lucas is definitely one of Pelecanos' finest characters—a protector who can't always reconcile his violent and sensitive sides. I hope we'll be seeing Spero again soon, and I also hope that Pelecanos will go back on his one-book-a-year schedule, because I don't want to have to wait too long for the next one!

Book Review: "Rules of Civility" by Amor Towles

This was a tremendously enjoyable book, not quite a skewering of 1930s New York social elite, but not quite a full embrace of the idea that the rich are different either.

On New Year's Eve in 1937, Katey Kontent, a secretary at a law firm struggling to make ends meet, and her boardinghouse roommate, the more flamboyant and daring Eve Ross, head to a jazz club in Greenwich Village to try and make their few dollars last past midnight. By chance, they meet up with dashing Tinker Grey, a banker with a wild side. The three form an amusing, competitive, and unusual friendship, as both women compete—both consciously and unconsciously—for Tinker's affections.

When an event occurs that inextricably links the three of them in ways they hadn't planned, Katey finds herself being drawn into New York society. Smart and ambitious, yet romantic and just as desiring of a life that others have, she knows she doesn't quite fit in but she enjoys the ride. And over the course of a year, Katey makes some interesting allies and enemies, deals with unresolved romantic feelings, is simultaneously attracted and repulsed by the society life around her, and realizes she must rely on her brains and her sense of humor as much as her looks.

"But for me, dinner at a fine restaurant was the ultimate luxury. It was the very height of civilization. For what was civilization but the intellect's ascendancy out of the doldrums of necessity (shelter, sustenance and survival) into the ether of the finely superfluous (poetry, handbags and haute cuisine)?"

Rules of Civility is part social satire and part comedy of manners, as well as a profile of a unique woman who finds herself in circumstances she hadn't really wished for but didn't necessarily want to part with once she had found them. What I liked about this book was Amor Towles' way of examining these individuals, foibles and all, but not making them look like buffoons, but rather the sensitive, flawed people they were. His characters are complex and tremendously interesting—you may not have wondered what life was like in the late 1930s in New York society, but these characters and Towles' plot make it worth the exploration.

While nothing immensely earth-shattering happens in this book, it's quite interesting and quite engrossing. You may have seen similar stories, but in the hands of Amor Towles, it feels a bit unique and very enjoyable.

Book Review: "Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe" by Benjamin Alire Saenz

Let's talk about how tremendously much I loved this book.

Aristotle ("Ari") is a sensitive yet somewhat angry 15-year-old growing up in Texas in the 1980s. The baby of the family, he feels disconnected from his older sisters, and his older brother went to prison when Ari was very young, and his family never speaks of him. He also feels as if his father, a Vietnam vet suffering from PTSD, is a mystery to him, and he wishes that weren't the case. He spends most of his days alone, distant from others.

"In order to be wildly popular you had to make people believe that you were fun and interesting. I just wasn't that much of a con artist."

One day at the local swimming pool, Ari meets Dante, a boy his age from another high school. Dante offers to teach Ari how to swim, and the two begin an intense friendship. Their conversations touch on poetry, art, their shared Mexican-American heritage (of which Dante is less enamored), and the way they don't quite "get" their parents, although Dante's relationship with his parents is much more open and emotionally honest. which Ari envies.

"I was mostly invisible. I think I liked it that way. And then Dante came along."

As their relationship intensifies, Ari finds himself simultaneously needing Dante's friendship and being scared by that need. He's still not willing to confront his parents with the questions he has about his father and his brother, which makes him angrier and sadder. And when a split-second decision leaves their friendship on unequal footing, Dante reveals that his feelings for Ari are stronger than friendship. Ari doesn't want to lose Dante's friendship but he's not willing to deal with Dante's feelings.

What will it take for us to lay down the armor we have around our hearts, to put aside our anger and sadness and realize that we are worthy of love and being loved? How can a person determined never to need anyone let themselves actually need someone? How can you tell the difference between friendship and love? Benjamin Alire Saenz's novel is so beautifully poetic, so emotional—it's funny, heartbreaking, frustrating, and rewarding. Just like life is.

I thought the characters in this book were so beautifully drawn. While at times Ari's anger, depression, and withdrawal was a little frustrating, watching his character transition in a realistic way was worth it. I found myself re-reading paragraphs that I marveled at, both because of Saenz's use of language and because I was so moved.

Some have expressed frustration that the resolution of the book felt incomplete. While I might agree, it didn't take away from my enjoyment of this book at all. I do hope, however, given the response to this book, that Saenz might consider writing a follow-up, because I'd love to know what happens next.

I read a lot, and this year alone, have read some phenomenal books. Without a doubt, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is one of those.

Book Review: "The Salinger Contract" by Adam Langer

Wow, this was fun. Part mystery, part riff on the literary world, all completely compelling.

Adam Langer is a stay-at-home dad living in Bloomington, Indiana, caring for his two daughters, Beatrice and Ramona (sound familiar, Beverly Cleary fans?), while his wife Sabine, is a college professor. Adam fondly remembers his days as books editor for the now-defunct Lit magazine, which allowed him to meet authors whose careers he had admired.

His time with the magazine also fostered his own short-lived writing career, as he wrote one novel, Nine Fathers, a fictionalized account of his quest to find out who his biological father was. When the book was first published, and he was searching for authors to write blurbs for the book jacket, only one of the authors he met—crime writer Conner Joyce—agreed to write something. However, the book didn't sell well, and life (and lack of interest in the literary world) got in the way of Adam's writing a follow-up.

Fast forward a few years, and Adam has a chance encounter with Conner at a book signing of his latest book. Yet things have slowed down for Conner, as his last few books in his crime series haven't sold as well as his first, and readers and his publisher are starting to lose interest. And one night, while doing a reading in Chicago, Conner is approached by the bodyguard of a wealthy, eccentric man who makes him an offer that seems far too good to be true, and one he can't seem to refuse. The mysterious Dex wants Conner to write a new crime novel—and only Dex and his bodyguard will ever read it. Conner can tell no one about this deal, ever, and he can't ever publish the novel he writes. And in exchange, he'll receive far more money than he'd get otherwise.

"Well, we all have our own fantasy about our favorite authors, don't we?" "Which is what, exactly?" asked Conner. "That the author is speaking only to us, that he is writing only for us, that no one on Earth has the same relationship to that author as we do...That the author has written his book only for me."

While this deal seems both irresistible and impossible to fathom, this isn't the first time Dex has worked with an author on this type of arrangement. And he has the unpublished manuscripts from all of them—Salinger, Mailer, Harper Lee, Truman Capote. How can Conner refuse? But after Conner writes his crime novel—an exercise he finds far more freeing than writing his novels had ever felt—events start occurring that convince him that he's blundered into territory he couldn't imagine, and the only place he can turn is to Adam.

I'm a huge fan of Adam Langer's books. I really enjoyed all of his previous novels, Crossing California, The Washington Story, Ellington Avenue, and Thieves of Manhattan. (The latter was on my list of my favorite books of 2010.) I wasn't sure what to expect from this book, but it drew me in pretty much immediately and kept me hooked. I had suspicions as to where the plot would go—some were right and some were wrong—but I was impressed by the creativity of Langer's premise and the way he unraveled his story. I also really enjoyed his skewering of the literary world.

This is a fun and tremendously interesting book, with enough suspense and action to keep you hooked. Of course, now that I've devoured this book, I'll have to wait a while for Langer's next, but I guess that's the price you have to pay...

Book Review: "The Weight of a Human Heart" by Ryan O'Neill

Since rediscovering short stories about 15 years ago (for the longest time I didn't like them because I didn't like getting invested in stories that end so quickly), I've read the work of many different authors and seen all types of short stories, from the straightforward to the gimmicky. Ryan O'Neill's collection, The Weight of a Human Heart, combines both characteristics, and the end result is as you might expect from the meshing of the two styles, at times powerful and moving, and at times distracting.

With 21 stories at about 240 pages long, this collection feels surprisingly dense. Most of my favorite stories were the more straightforward ones—"Collected Stories," in which a woman recounts the difficult life being the daughter of an author whose popularity declines—and so does her motherly nature; "The Cockroach," one of many stories which takes place in Rwanda, this is about a young Tutsi girl forced to flee her home on the cusp of the Rwandan genocide; "Four Letter Words," which recounted a man's relationship with his father through the years, as explained by different four-letter words; "Last Words," about an aging doctor obsessed with people's last words; and "A Speeding Bullet," the story of a boy obsessed with superheroes, whose home life is less than super.

While I struggled with some of O'Neill's more gimmicky stories, which took the form of infographics, an exam, an overly footnoted story called "The Footnote," and a story that looked at different events that happened on July 1 throughout history and tried to link them to the character's life, I did enjoy a few, including "English as a Foreign Language," which meshed the story of a man who teaches English as a second language struggling with marital problems together with language exercises; and "Seventeen Rules for Writing a Short Story," which defies explanation but really made me laugh.

O'Neill is a tremendously creative writer and he definitely put a great deal of heart into his stories, particularly those which were emotionally evocative. I wish more of the stories were like that, because I didn't find all the stories as satisfying. However, I truly think he's a writer with enormous talent, and I'd definitely like to see what comes next for him.

Cool cover song of the week...

Almost every time I turn on the radio lately I hear Lorde's hit song, Royals. I don't honestly know most of the words short of the chorus (although I can make out "Grey Goose" and "driving Cadillacs in our dreams"), and I didn't know what the song was about until I read an interview with her, where she said the song was about the luxury and lifestyle of pop artists. (Interestingly enough, Lorde was inspired by seeing an image in National Geographic, of all places, which showed a baseball player signing baseballs, with his shirt displaying "Royals.")

The song peaked at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and in August 2013, Lorde became the first female solo act to top the Billboard Alternative Songs chart since Tracy Bonham in 1996. Not bad for a 16-year-old, huh?

I've been a big fan of Mayer Hawthorne for several years now. I love the way so much of his music has a great old-soul vibe, and he has a terrific voice. He added some funk to Royals as part of VEVO's "Unexpected Covers" series, and I was completely taken by his rendition. It's a great counterpoint to Lorde's version.

Here's Hawthorne's take:

Here's a live version from Selena Gomez, which is a little closer to Lorde's rendition:

And here's the original, in case you can't get enough of it, or if you have no idea what I'm talking about:

Check out my previous Cool Cover Songs of the Week:

Borderline by The Counting Crows

How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee

Life in a Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town, and Jake Owen

I Don't Want to Talk About It by The Indigo Girls

Only You by Joshua Radin

Pure Imagination by Maroon 5

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Blake Stratton

What a Fool Believes by Neri Per Caso

Poker Face by Daughtry

Back to Black by Ronnie Spector

I Will Survive by Cake

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by The Stereophonics

Rolling in the Deep by John Legend

Go Your Own Way by Lissie

Winner Takes it All by McFly

What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Careless Whisper by Seether

I Walk the Line by Live

Dear Prudence by Siouxsie and The Banshees

Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm

Who Wants to Live Forever by Breaking Benjamin

Redemption Song by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

Love Me Tender by Chris Isaak and Brandi Carlile

All You Need is Love by The Flaming Lips

Lovesong by Adele

I Love It by Robin Thicke

Billie Jean by The Civil Wars

Across the Universe by The Scorpions

Can't Hold Us by Pentatonix

Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by The Postal Service

Jolene by The White Stripes

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by Justin Timberlake

More Than This by Norah Jones

Book Review: "Stay Up With Me" by Tom Barbash

I'm not honestly sure where I heard about this book, but wherever it was, I'd like to say thanks. Stay Up With Me was a pretty terrific short story collection, sometimes moving, sometimes humorous, tremendously well-written, and incredibly compelling. Each of the 13 stories in this collection hit me in a different place; they made me think and made me feel, and I think I would love to read a full-length novel about the characters in most of the stories.

My favorite in the collection, Howling at the Moon, told the story of a teenage boy wracked with guilt over the death of his older brother, who finds himself living in the home of his mother's boyfriend, and not really understanding his relationship with his mother anymore. In The Break, a middle-aged woman struggles when her college-aged son starts a relationship with an older woman while he's home on break, and she feels compelled to interfere for reasons she can't quite name. The main character in Somebody's Son is a guy trying to con an elderly couple into selling their lifelong home in the Adirondacks, but he finds himself drawn to them. In Balloon Night, a man holds the annual party to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons get inflated that he and his wife throw, but tries not to reveal his wife has left him.

Other moving stories included The Women, in which a young man deals with the feelings provoked by his widowed father dating again, as well as his unresolved feelings about his mother's death, and Birthday Girl, which follows a woman faced with the fact that she accidentally hit a young girl with her car. The quirkiest story in this collection was Letters from the Academy, a compilation of one-sided correspondence from an instructor at a tennis academy to the uncommunicative father of one the Academy's most promising students.

A few stories I thought were a bit weaker, but by and large this is a consistently strong collection. I was blown away by Tom Barbash's writing style and his use of language and emotion.

I love reading short stories that make you feel sad when you're finished, stories that keep you thinking about the characters after they've ended. This is a really strong collection of stories, and I hope that people take notice, because he's definitely an author worth reading, and enjoying.

Movie Review: "Gravity"

At one point in Gravity, mission specialist Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) says, "I hate space." And given what she has to endure in this movie, you certainly can't blame her for that statement!

When the movie opens, Stone, a medical engineer on a special mission for NASA, and seasoned astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney, in full Buzz Lightyear mode), who is on his last trip to space, are doing some routine repairs on their spacecraft. You hear the constant chatter of communication with Houston (the familiar voice of Ed Harris at Mission Control) and those on the spacecraft, and Kowalski shares anecdotes that everyone has heard hundreds of times, yet there is a comforting familiarity to all of it.

And suddenly things change: Mission Control reports that a Russian satellite has exploded, causing of chain of debris to fly through space at high speeds. Kowalski and his crew are warned to abort their mission and return to their spacecraft immediately, but because of some glitches, it's too late—they are hit by the debris and the ship is lost. At first, Stone becomes untethered and finds herself hurtling through space, panicking, because she thinks (rightfully so) she might be lost forever. (This is the scene most people have seen in the movie's trailer.)

But thanks to Kowalski's calm guidance (and some pretty cool space acrobatics), the two are able to reconnect with each other and need to head toward a nearby Russian Soyuz spacecraft to get home. And then pretty much everything else goes wrong.

I wasn't sure what to expect from Gravity. I loved director Alfonso Cuarón's Children of Men, so I know he has an amazing way of transfixing you both with action and emotion, but how could you sustain interest in a movie that's about someone lost in space? But obviously, this movie is about so much more—it's about courage, letting go, not giving up, and the amazing beauty of outer space.

So many movies these days are shown in 3D, and it makes little difference to the movie experience. (Ahem, Great Gatsby, ahem.) But with Gravity, the 3D effects are so brilliant, they truly enhance the movie. You honestly feel as if the space debris is flying at you. (Yeah, I ducked once or twice. Or maybe four times.) And the way things float in zero gravity—from pens and files to human tears—is visually brilliant but relevant to the story as it unfolds as well.

I love Sandra Bullock and while I may have am still grumbled a bit when she won the Oscar for Blind Side a few years ago, she gives what might be her strongest performance to date in this film. It's panic and emotion and bravery and reckless abandon, and it's absolutely mesmerizing. George Clooney is, as always, a presence—I remarked after the movie that it's still hard to reconcile the Clooney of today with the Clooney of Facts of Life or Roseanne—although I always sensed his star quality.

Is this a perfect film? No, not quite. I did roll my eyes a tiny bit at the continued chain of bad luck that Bullock's character was handed, and kept waiting for another shoe to drop every time. But it is a tremendously moving and visually brilliant film, definitely among the best I've seen so far this year. And this would be a much-deserved Oscar nomination for Bullock, that much I can say.

Movie Review: "Don Jon"

Can a guy who watches porn on a fairly regular basis (read: multiple times a day) be capable of having a "real" relationship? That question is at the center of Joseph Gordon-Levitt's tremendously entertaining and surprisingly sensitive directorial debut, Don Jon. (He also wrote the screenplay.)

As Jon Martello (Gordon-Levitt) says, "There's only a few things I really care about in life—my body, my pad, my ride, my family, my church, my boys, my girls, and my porn."

Jon is a cocky, good looking bartender in New Jersey completely satisfied with his life, which includes tough workouts at the gym, church on Sunday followed by dinner with his bickering family, and evenings at the local club with his best friends, where they rate the women on a 1-10 scale, brag about who they'll hit on, and then, inevitably, Jon leaves with a different beautiful specimen every night, never to call them again afterwards. (His friends don't call him "Don Jon" for nothing.) But the thing is, even though Jon almost always has sex with the women he meets, he still is drawn to the siren call of his laptop and the internet porn he watches. His porn habit satisfies him more than the actual sex he's having does.

One night he meets Barbara Sugarman (Scarlett Johansson, at her hottest) and he knows he wants her. But Barbara isn't fooled by Jon's game, and won't let herself just be another notch in his belt. She forces him to actually date her, to introduce her to his friends and family and meet hers. And little by little Barbara starts to change Jon, convincing him to go back to school, and to watch the romantic movies she so loves. Needless to say, Barbara is less than enamored of Jon's internet entertainment exploits (which, of course, he passes off as a one-time thing for fear of ruining their relationship), so he promises her he'll never do that again.

But as Jon does everything that Barbara wants him to, and starts integrating her into his Sundays with the family (the different reactions from his parents, played by Tony Danza and Glenne Headly, are priceless), he starts wondering if he likes being the "new" Jon. When he has the opportunity to see a different side of things, as he starts interacting with a fellow student, the troubled Esther (Julianne Moore), Jon begins to wonder whether he is capable of a real relationship given his, umm, attachment to porn.

Gordon-Levitt does a great job mining the central question of the movie, both for laughs and deeper thought. How could Jon pass up an opportunity for a relationship with Barbara? Don't relationships require people to compromise a bit? And with Johansson as the object of Gordon-Levitt's affection, you could certainly understand the dilemma. Both actors do a terrific job with their roles, making them more than just the stereotypical Jerseyites. And while Julianne Moore brings her usual sensitivity and intelligence to her small role, it felt a little tacked on, almost as the answer key to a difficult exam.

This is a fun, funny, raunchy, sweet, and good-hearted movie. While I'm more than comfortable admitting I have a bit of a Joseph Gordon-Levitt obsession, with Don Jon he proves that his talents go far beyond acting, and I look forward to seeing what's next for him in the writing and directing arenas.

Book Review: "Let Him Go" by Larry Watson

Winter is approaching in rural Dalton, North Dakota in the early 1950s. One day retired sheriff George Blackledge returns home from work to find his wife, the headstrong, stubborn Margaret, packing up the contents of their house and loading their car. She is determined to track down Lorna, their former daughter-in-law, who remarried following George and Margaret's son's death in a freak accident, and moved away with her ne'er-do-well husband, Donnie Weboy, and Margaret and George's young grandson, Jimmy.

Margaret is convinced that Lorna and Donnie aren't treating Jimmy well, and that he'd be better off if she could convince Lorna to give custody of the boy to George and Margaret. She tells George she's going looking for them with or without him. While George isn't sure that Margaret's idea is a sound one, especially given their advancing age, and he worries that she'll go off half-cocked, his duty is to follow his wife, so they set off into the badlands and head to Montana to find Donnie and Lorna, who have apparently returned to Donnie's boyhood home.

When Margaret and George arrive, they find that the Weboys are a family not to be trifled with. While Donnie isn't particularly intelligent or ambitious, his mother, Blanche, has held her family together every way she knows how, and she and her three sons, as well as her brother-in-law, Bill, turn to bullying, intimidation, and downright violence to get whatever they want. And what they want is for Margaret and George to return home to North Dakota, and consider their mission to retrieve their grandson finished. But of course, Margaret has different ideas, which sets the Blackledges and Weboys on a collision course that grows increasingly bleaker and more dangerous.

Larry Watson is a fantastic writer, and I've been a fan of his work since reading his first novel-in-stories, Montana 1948, in the early 1990s. His imagery and language are poetic, and his storytelling is compelling yet surprisingly simple. In Let Him Go he transports you to the early 1950s, to the strong connection between a couple married for years who have struggled with different issues, yet their bond is unshakeable. I wondered how Watson would resolve the clash between the two families, and what would ultimately happen.

Watson is one of those writers who can evoke feelings of nostalgia both with setting and imagery as well as his storytelling. But although the novel seems faithful to place and time, the story still feels tremendously current and was incredibly compelling. This really was a great book, a fast read, and another example of Larry Watson's strength as a storyteller.

Book Review: "The Rosie Project" by Graeme Simsion

This was such a sweet book. And I don't mean that in a derogatory way—this book kept me smiling and, clichéd as it may sound, warmed my heart.

Don Tillman is a genetics professor in Australia with social and behavioral tendencies that fans of The Big Bang Theory would find immensely familiar to those of Sheldon Cooper. Bullied as a child, he made the decision to live life as the class clown, so his (often unconscious) way of acting and reacting makes people laugh rather than question why he acts the way he acts. And while he enjoys his perfectly regimented life, with its Standardized Meal System (he eats the same thing on the same days each week) and its down-to-the-minute scheduling of exercise, sleep, shopping, and work, there is one problem. Despite having close friends Gene and Claudia nearby, Don is lonely.

"I am thirty-nine years old, tall, fit, and intelligent, with a relatively high status and above-average income as an associate professor. Logically, I should be attractive to a wide range of women. In the animal kingdom, I would succeed in reproducing. However, there is something about me that women find unappealing. I have never found it easy to make friends, and it seems that the deficiencies that caused this problem have also affected my attempts at romantic relationships."

Don has tried dating women, and many of those attempts have been, well, less than successful, leading to anecdotes he refers to as "The Apricot Ice Cream Disaster," for one. So he does what any other genetics professor would do—launches The Wife Project, complete with a 16-page, scientifically valid survey to filter out the drinkers, the smokers, the late arrivers, and those who might cause a reprise of The Apricot Ice Cream Disaster.

When Don meets Rosie Jarman, a beautiful bartender who smokes and arrives late, he knows immediately that she's not suitable for The Wife Project. But he's keen on helping her identify who her biological father is, since he has access to his university's lab to run DNA tests, and he has no shortage of plausible (and not so plausible) ways to retrieve DNA from potential candidates. And suddenly, Don realizes how much he enjoys spending time with Rosie, despite the fact he has no interest in her as a partner, and that she keeps causing him to veer away from his perfectly scheduled routine.

Even though The Rosie Project is fairly predictable, Don and Rosie's characters are so charming, so enjoyable, you want to keep reading their story. And while some of Don's behaviors may seem outlandish, again, if you've ever watched Sheldon Cooper on The Big Bang Theory, you'll realize they're not quite as outlandish as you think. This book made me chuckle, laugh at times, and just kept me smiling throughout. Apparently the book has already been adapted into a movie in Australia, and it definitely seems screen-worthy.

Love cannot be controlled, and it is rarely, if ever, predictable. And neither are people. The Rosie Project is a tremendously enjoyable book that makes those facts immensely compelling.

Cool cover song of the week...

True confession time: as much as I consider my musical tastes to be eclectic now, growing up—especially in middle school and high school—I was almost strictly a top-40/pop type of guy. (It was the 80s, after all, so there's nothing wrong with that.)

It wasn't until I got to college that I started listening to so-called "alternative" music—The Smiths (and Morrissey), Roxy Music, Joy Division, etc. (I joked for a while that the moodier the music, the more I played it to irritate my classic rock- and heavy metal-loving roommates.) One of the songs that I remember being utterly mesmerized by was Roxy Music's More Than This.

Still am, actually.

I was amazed to find out that the song was actually recorded in 1982, and while it hit #6 on the UK charts, it didn't get any higher than #102 here in the U.S. Yet it's still a song that endures, and is probably more popular now than it was then.

I heard this version of the song by Norah Jones and jazz guitarist Charlie Hunter (from Hunter's 2001 album Songs from the Analog Playground) just the other day, and I was captivated by its dreaminess, its, well, Norah Jonesiness. Like many covers, I don't think it's as good as the original (nothing beats Bryan Ferry), but I like this version for what it is.

I'm reminded of the great scene in Lost in Translation (fantastic movie, BTW) where Bill Murray tackles this song:

Then, of course, there is the original.

Check out my previous Cool Cover Songs of the Week:

Borderline by The Counting Crows

How Deep Is Your Love by The Bird and The Bee

Life in a Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town, and Jake Owen

I Don't Want to Talk About It by The Indigo Girls

Only You by Joshua Radin

Pure Imagination by Maroon 5

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Blake Stratton

What a Fool Believes by Neri Per Caso

Poker Face by Daughtry

Back to Black by Ronnie Spector

I Will Survive by Cake

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by The Stereophonics

Rolling in the Deep by John Legend

Go Your Own Way by Lissie

Winner Takes it All by McFly

What a Wonderful World by Joey Ramone

Careless Whisper by Seether

I Walk the Line by Live

Dear Prudence by Siouxsie and The Banshees

Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm

Who Wants to Live Forever by Breaking Benjamin

Redemption Song by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

Love Me Tender by Chris Isaak and Brandi Carlile

All You Need is Love by The Flaming Lips

Lovesong by Adele

I Love It by Robin Thicke

Billie Jean by The Civil Wars

Across the Universe by The Scorpions

Can't Hold Us by Pentatonix

Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) by The Postal Service

Jolene by The White Stripes

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) by Justin Timberlake

Book Review: "The Lowland" by Jhumpa Lahiri

"Subhash was thirteen, older by fifteen months. But he had no sense of himself without Udayan. From his earliest memories, at every point, his brother was there."

Subhash and Udayan are nearly inseparable growing up. They share the same room, enjoy the same things, study many of the same subjects. But what has always set them apart is that while Subhash is the dutiful, quiet one, never anxious to make waves or cause trouble, Udayan is a bit of a firebrand, always interested in pushing the envelope, and getting caught up in a sense of adventure.

As they grow up in the mid- to late 1960s, they attend separate colleges in India but both return home each day. However, while Subhash is devoted to his scientific studies, Udayan becomes more interested in the Naxalite movement, a rebellion which follows Maoist ideals, and pits rich against poor in an effort to eliminate poverty and inequality. When Udayan leaves home to follow the movement, Subhash decides to go to America to pursue his research studies in Rhode Island.

Through infrequent letters from his brother, Subhash learns how the Naxalite movement is growing increasingly violent and causing crackdowns across India. He also learns that, in defiance of the custom of arranged marriage, Udayan has married Gauri, a fiercely independent student, and moved back in with their parents. Then Subhash learns that tragedy has befallen his brother, so he returns to India to be with his parents. And it is there, as he tries to make sense of what happened to his brother, and what will happen to Gauri, that Subhash makes the most uncharacteristic decision of his life, one which has ramifications for years to come.

This is a book about the bonds of family and the connections (and lack thereof) fueled by different relationships. It's also a powerful meditation on all types of loss. Jhumpa Lahiri, who won a Pulitzer Prize and has written some absolutely memorable books, is a beautiful writer, with a tremendous lyricism to her words and a quiet power that emanates through her stories.

I'm sad to say that this book, however, just didn't grab me as all of her earlier books (Interpreter of Maladies, The Namesake, and Unaccustomed Earth) did. I don't know if the distance that each of the characters really kept from each other made me feel that same distance from them and their stories, or if I just never quite warmed up to the story, but for the most part, I never found the book entirely compelling. I read it hoping that something would grab me, but it never happened.

Jhumpa Lahiri is definitely a writer worth reading. If you've never read her books before, I'd encourage you to pick up any one of them—perhaps start with The Namesake—and prepare to marvel at her writing. But read those before trying her latest, so you really see how much she can shine.