Book Review: "Every Vow You Break" by Peter Swanson

One of the core messages of Peter Swanson's newest thriller, Every Vow You Break, is pretty simple: lying gets you every time.

I have loved a number of Swanson’s thrillers, so I was eagerly anticipating his newest one. But wow, this one just didn’t work for me in the slightest.

Abigail is set to marry Bruce, a wealthy man a few years older than she is. She never thought she’d marry someone with that much money, but that’s not what attracted her to him—it’s his stability.

While in California for her bachelorette party, she meets a man and winds up spending the night with him. They gave each other fake names and she chalked it up as one last fling, nothing to mention to Bruce. And then the guy shows up in New York, claiming he felt something for Abigail and believes she felt the same.

How can she get rid of this guy without confessing her infidelity to Bruce, who prizes fidelity above almost everything? And how did this guy find her in the first place? His reappearance in her life sets off a chain of events that has her questioning whom she can trust, and what is real and what is her imagination.

I don’t want to give anything away so I’ll stop the plot summary at this point. I felt like the setup of the book took a lot longer than it needed to—I was more than 100 pages in and I was wondering when everything would get going—and while the pace definitely picked up, so did the crazy factor. I’m not really good with suspending my disbelief in thrillers and I felt parts of this were preposterous.

A few people whose opinions I often agree with really loved this book, so don’t let my review dissuade you. I will still read Swanson’s next book and hope it’s more like the previous ones of his I’ve loved.

William Morrow Books provided me with a complimentary copy of Every Vow You Break in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making it available!

Book Review: "The Favorite Daughter" by Kaira Rouda

Just when I thought I had seen the craziest, most out-there, insane protagonist, along comes Jane Harris in Kaira Rouda's upcoming book, The Favorite Daughter.

Lord. Have. Mercy.

Jane thought she had it all: a handsome husband, two daughters, a beautiful home in an exclusive oceanfront community in California's Ocean County. But the last year has been terrible. She's been consumed with grief since the unexpected death of her oldest daughter, Mary, in a freak accident. All of the anti-depressants she has been taking have left her in a haze, and she's barely been functional, let alone capable of being a good wife or mother.

But that's all about to change. As they get ready to celebrate the one-year anniversary of Mary's death, Jane is ready to take control of her life again. She hasn't been entirely unaware of what's been going on behind her back. She knew that her husband and both of her daughters were trying to keep things hidden from her, but she knows a lot more than they think—and it's high time she let everyone know they can't fool her.

Jane is surprised, however, how much has changed in the year that she was immersed in her grief. Her husband can barely stand to be in the same room, let alone the same house, with her, and her younger daughter is uncomfortable around her, and keeps talking about how ready she is to leave after she graduates high school in just a few days. But as Jane discovers that her husband and daughter have even more secrets, this time Jane will not stand idly by.

When someone starts leaving notes for Jane saying that there was more to Mary's death than a simple accident, and that someone close to her should be looked at more closely, Jane insists the investigation be reopened, no matter the amount of chaos it might cause her family. Could someone have killed Mary in an effort to control a particular situation? How far would they go to keep that a secret?

The Favorite Daughter takes you on a wild ride. I honestly had no idea what to expect from this book because Jane was such a bizarre character. Part of me kept expecting that this would resemble Sandie Jones' The First Mistake in that you'd see the story from Jane's side and then see a wholly different version through someone else's eyes, but apart from occasional barbs from her husband or daughter, that didn't happen. Regardless, she is so unhinged that I found it difficult to determine what she actually was seeing and what was imagined.

This book definitely kept me guessing as it hurtled toward its conclusion. I read the entire book in just a few hours because I needed to see how Rouda would tie everything up.

I really like the way Rouda writes (check out Best Day Ever, too), and in her "Dear Reader" letter that appeared in my advance copy, she explained what brought her to create Jane's character (if it's in your book, I'd recommend not reading this until after you've read the book), and that's fascinating. But these characters all seemed so unlikable, and it almost felt like I was seeing them through Jane's drug-induced haze, so I never understood them thoroughly enough.

If you're looking for a book with one crazy character, pick up The Favorite Daughter. It's quite a read!

NetGalley and HARLEQUIN — Graydon House Books provided me an advance copy of this book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making it available!

This book will be published May 21, 2019.

Book Review: "Lock Every Door" by Riley Sager

You know the old saying if it seems too good to be true, it probably is? Well, that's something that Jules Larsen should have thought of when she accepted an assignment as an apartment sitter at one of the oldest and most exclusive NYC apartment buildings, the Bartholomew.

Jules is between jobs and, because her relationship with her boyfriend just ended, between apartments. The Bartholomew was the setting of her favorite book from childhood, so the thought of living in those glamorous, hallowed halls almost seems like a dream. When she sees the enormous, duplex apartment at the top of the building, and learns that she'll receive a salary of $4,000 for each month of her three-month assignment, how could she resist?

Sure, there are a lot of rules. She must sleep in her apartment every night. She can't have anyone over to visit because the residents of the Bartholomew cherish their privacy. No pictures of anything related to the building on social media. She's also not allowed to bother any of the residents.

But even those and other slightly strange rules are enough to dissuade her, given how desperately she needs the money. Even as she starts to learn about the Bartholomew's somewhat-scandalous and creepy past, she feels lucky. When she meets fellow apartment sitter Ingrid, she feels she has found a kindred spirit. As Ingrid shares her feelings about how things about the building frighten her a bit, Jules tries to help assuage her fears (and perhaps calm some of her own).

The next morning, Ingrid is gone. She apparently left the Bartholomew without a word to anyone, and she won't return Jules' texts or phone calls. Little by little, Jules starts to become more worried about Ingrid's safety, and wonders if perhaps there is more to the things Ingrid was afraid of. As Jules tries to dig into Ingrid's disappearance with the help of her handsome neighbor, she starts to discover that things in the Bartholomew aren't as idyllic as they seem—and Ingrid isn't the first one to disappear.

Riley Sager knows how to ratchet up the suspense, and he definitely did so here in Lock Every Door. There is such a pervasive sense of danger permeating through the book from the minute Jules first arrives at the Bartholomew. You know it's too good to be true, you know she shouldn't trust people, but as the reader, you're powerless to shake some sense into her.

The narration shifts between the present and Jules' arrival at the building a few days earlier, so you get glimpses of what will happen but nothing too concrete to fully give it away. Sager's storytelling is taut and reads like a movie, so I could picture what was happening in my mind's eye.

You'll really need to suspend your disbelief here as the book hurtles toward its conclusion. I'll admit I thought things went completely off the rails and I rolled my eyes toward the end. But I know many others loved this book, so perhaps I just thought things got a little too kooky for my own good.

I'm a fan of Sager's writing—his debut novel, Final Girls, was another book that read like a movie I'd totally see. If you like your thrillers on the crazy, slightly gothic side, Lock Every Door is one for you. And don't accept an apartment-sitting gig that seems too good to be true!

NetGalley and PENGUIN GROUP Dutton provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

This book will be published July 2, 2019.

Book Review: "Noir" by Christopher Moore

Well, it's been a while since I've read a book that should have been accompanied by a drum set, in order to generate rimshots after every joke, but this definitely felt like one of those!!

"There are times in a guy's life when he finds himself floating facedown in a sea of troubles, and as hope bubbles away, he thinks, How the hell did I get here?"

It's 1947 in San Francisco. The country has just started putting all of its pieces back together following World War II. Sammy "Two Toes" Tiffin is the evening bartender at Sal's Saloon, and he spends his evenings helping the city's denizens bury their troubles with the help of cheap liquor. Sam always has his hand in some other scheme, either because he needs to make more money or he has connections that range throughout the city. (Most often both.)

Then one night, of all of the gin joints in the world, in she walks—a flirtatious blonde, "a size-eight dame in a size-six dress and every mug in the joint was rooting for the two sizes to make a break for it as they watched her wiggle in the door and shimmy onto a barstool with her back to the door." The dame, it turns out, is named Stilton (like the cheese), and she takes a shine to Sammy. And the shine is more than mutual.

As much as Sammy would like to do nothing more than romance "the Cheese" (as everyone refers to Stilton), he's got his hands full. His boss wants him to recruit a group of women to "entertain" a bunch of VIPs. He may have been inadvertently involved in the assault and kidnapping of a somewhat racist policeman. Oh, and he might have also brought a deadly black mamba snake into San Francisco—and the snake didn't waste time before inflicting some damage.

But is that why two dark-suited, sunglasses-wearing investigators are on his trail? Or is there something else?

When the Cheese goes missing, Sammy needs to take action. He recruits a motley group of friends and associates to help him follow her trail, and it leads them into the middle of one hell of a mess, with cross-dressing members of a secret club, government investigators bent on "taking care" of anyone that gets in their way, and, well, there may be a space alien in the mix as well.

Sammy doesn't know what to make of any of it, but he knows he wants the Cheese back, so he'll take on any enemy that comes his way—even if it may be carrying a space blaster.

Noir is a wacky, corny, somewhat disjointed novel that is simultaneously funny, odd, confusing, and downright bizarre. But all of these adjectives perfectly describe the storytelling of Christopher Moore, author of books like The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove and Island of the Sequined Love-Nun, among others. As I saw in the description of this book, "Think Raymond Chandler meets Damon Runyon with more than a dash of Bugs Bunny and the Looney Tunes All Stars," but I'd throw in a little Men in Black as well.

I was a big fan of Moore's in the late 1990s and early 2000s, but after a while I found myself rolling my eyes more than laughing when I read his books. For some reason I expected something slightly different from Noir, and while it started out that way, by the end there were so many competing storylines, not to mention occasional narration from Petey the black mamba snake, that I just wasn't sure what I was reading.

This is a book that takes on its story with great gusto. I marveled at Moore's creativity, but all in all, Noir didn't quite work for me. However, if zany, no-holds-barred books pique your interest, definitely give this one a try.

Book Review: "The Driver" by Hart Hanson

When I saw that Hart Hanson, creator of the television show Bones, had written a thriller, I jumped on it pretty quickly. And while there are certainly similarities between the show and the book, particularly the smart-ass banter between the characters, The Driver is a rip-roaring, complex, humorous, and satisfying thrill ride, with some fantastically memorable characters.

Michael Skellig is a limo driver, the owner of his own limousine company. A former Army Special Forces officer who has seen and done things he doesn't like to talk or think about, he hears voices on the wind of those he has killed in the past. But strangely, these voices don't mean him harm, they warn him of impending danger, and sometimes force him to wise up before something goes totally awry. Skellig's employees are all fellow veterans, each with their own set of issues to deal with, whether physical, emotional, or cultural.

"I don't know for absolute sure whether the voices I hear in the wind are supernatural or if they're just in my head. Do they tell me things I don't know or things I just don't know consciously? Are those voices my own guilty subconscious trying to tell me something and the only way to get my attention is to speak to me in the voices of those whose lives I've taken? Or do ghosts actually exist?"

Skellig has spent more than a day driving Bismarck Avila, a skateboard star-turned-business mogul, from place to place. While waiting for Avila to come out of a hotel, he is waiting with his car in an alley when the voice of one of his victims warns him that trouble is on the way. He rushes into the hotel and is able to thwart an attack on Avila's life, although in the process one of Avila's bodyguards is killed. And when Skellig wakes up in the hospital a few hours later, he finds himself the only suspect in the bodyguard's murder.

Being at the right and wrong place at the right and wrong time throws Skellig into the midst of Avila's problems, which further intensify around the time he blackmails Skellig into becoming his personal driver. People around Avila keep winding up dead, and Skellig is too curious and too noble just to let things unfold around him. And as the danger mounts for Skellig and his colleagues, it also causes friction in his relationships with his sometime-girlfriend (and attorney), Connie, and his friend and periodic nemesis, Detective Delilah Groopman, Connie's best friend, with whom Skellig has always been a bit infatuated.

The Driver is a wild ride which will make one hell of a movie. Hanson has created some complex characters whom I hope to see more of, and as you might imagine, he has a knack for memorable dialogue and some pretty fantastic action scenes. He throws in some gimmicks as well which irritated me a little—in trying to describe how one character speaks, he writes many of the words this character says In Capital Letters, and another tends to talk in fragments, so. He writes. That way. (See what I mean?)

But those quirks aside, I really enjoyed this book and hope it's just the start of a long relationship with Skellig and his ragtag band of compatriots. This is a fun, cool read, and hopefully it marks the start of a fantastic writing career for Hanson.

NetGalley and PENGUIN GROUP Dutton provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Book Review: "I'm Thinking of Ending Things" by Iain Reid

Seriously, what the hell was this?

"I think what I want is for someone to know me. Really know me. Know me better than anyone else and maybe even me. Isn't that why we commit to another?"

In Iain Reid's I'm Thinking of Ending Things (I'll admit I thought of ending my reading of this book more than a few times), an unnamed woman is on a road trip with her boyfriend, Jake. They've been dating six weeks, and she enjoys his intelligence, his sense of humor, his intensity, and the way he surprises her with simple gestures that show how much he cares, yet she's thinking of ending things with him. But since they're traveling to see his parents, she figures she'll wait and see how the trip goes before making any decisions.

As the drive progresses, the pair have a number of conversations, about the imperfection of memory, the importance of relationships, the value of faith, science, free will, and fear. Periodically the peace of the trip is interrupted by a persistent caller on the narrator's cell phone, but she refuses to answer those calls or discuss them with Jake, although he can clearly see she is agitated by them.

When they arrive at the farm where Jake was raised, the tenor of the visit starts to disturb her. She is left feeling ill-at-ease by Jake's parents, although they're doing their best to be pleasant; she is troubled by Jake's swift mood change as he interacts with his parents; and she sees and experiences a number of things that unsettle, even frighten her. She doesn't know what is going on or what she's supposed to do, but she does know she absolutely must end things with Jake when they return home. Then things utterly disintegrate on the trip home, beginning with an ill-advised stop at a Dairy Queen (in the midst of a snowstorm), and ending with an unexpected detour.

The story of the road trip is interspersed with flashbacks of the past six weeks since she met Jake, as well as snippets of a conversation between two people about a tragic incident.

I had no idea what to expect when reading this. Much of the hype I've seen talked about how terrifying and unsettling the book was, and I guess I agree with the latter part of that statement. To be honest, I am not sure I understand some of what happened in this book, and I guess I don't think any book should purposely be this obtuse. The story just kept getting weirder and weirder, and I couldn't discern what was actually happening and what was the work of an unreliable narrator.

There's no denying that Reid is a talented writer. He kept me wanting to find out what was going to happen even as I kept shaking my head and getting squeamish from time to time, and his use of language was extraordinary. The issues raised in the conversations during the trip were also fascinating and thought-provoking. But in the end, I found this unsettling and ultimately unsatisfying, partially because I think the book took a very strange turn, and partially because I just wasn't sure what I just read.

If you've read this and enjoyed it, we should talk!! I'd love to get someone else's take on this book, especially if you're among those who enjoyed it.

Book Review: "Golden State" by Michelle Richmond

"What I believe is this: there is no divine flow chart, no elegant spiritual mathematics through which our lives are processed. Events occur, we respond to them, we make choices, and our lives are shaped accordingly."

Julie Walker's life has been shaped by many different events. Her father died when she was young; her mother raised Julie and her younger sister, Heather, in a small, stifling Mississippi town which Julie couldn't wait to leave. When Julie left for medical school in San Francisco, she felt bad about leaving her needy sister, but she needed to reinvent herself and start her future. Heather drifted from boyfriend to boyfriend, place to place, problem to problem, and came in and out of Julie's life.

Julie met Tom, a radio disc jockey, and the two fell deeply in love. And when an unexpected incident surprises them and transforms their lives, they are truly happy. Until Heather re-enters their lives, and everything falls apart in her wake, including, little by little, Julie and Tom's marriage. Heather leaves to join the Army, and the two sisters stop speaking completely for several years.

"I understand now how families become estranged, not by design but by embarrassment. You come to a point when so much time has passed that it seems impossible to make the first move."

Heather's return throws Julie into upheaval once again, and wreaks havoc with what is left of her relationship with Tom, especially once Heather reveals her pregnancy. Yet Julie agrees to deliver Heather's baby, and the day she goes into labor turns out to be one fraught with chaos—for Julie, for the possibility of a future with Tom, for the entire state of California. Julie faces a shocking crisis which forces her to re-evaluate everything in her life, including her relationships.

Golden State is tremendously compelling, thought-provoking, emotional, and very engaging. Michelle Richmond hooks you quite quickly into Julie's life and the crises she faces, as the book follows the course of one day, with occasional reminiscences of other times in Julie's life. It's a fascinating exploration about the ties and the loyalties of our relationships, those we're born into and those we choose.

"Between a marriage one chooses and a blood relation one doesn't, shouldn't marriage be the more powerful bond?"

I enjoyed Golden State a great deal. I really liked the complexity of both Julie and Tom's characters, compelled both by what has happened and what remains unsaid. I'll admit, however, while the major incident that drives much of the plot and forces Julie to reminisce certainly is a driver of the story, I felt as if it was almost superfluous; I thought Julie's story and her relationships with her sister and her husband could have stood on their own. But it didn't detract from the power of the story.

If you see any of the reviews or publicity around this book, it's recommended for fans of Jodi Picoult or Jacquelyn Mitchard. I worried a little bit that this book would be one of the ripped-from-the-headlines-type stories Picoult is well known for, but fortunately (in my opinion), this wasn't that way at all. It's just a well-written and well-told story that definitely makes you think how you'd react in similar situations.

Why not just say, "No, thank you"?

I realize, that much as we were told back in the day, that it takes different strokes to move the world. But try as I might, sometimes I just don't understand why people find the need to act like total jerks.

A woman in Baldwin, New York, decided she didn't want her seven-year-old son to attend his classmate Sophia's birthday party.

Does she not approve of tie-dye parties because the 70s are over? Does she think that at this age, boys shouldn't go to little girls' birthday parties?

No, none of those things. She didn't want her son to attend the party because Sophia is raised by her gay fathers.

But instead of showing her son how to handle things with class, this mother wrote on the invitation, "Tommy will NOT attend. I do not believe in what you do and will not subject my innocent son to your 'lifestyle.' I'm sorry Sophia has to grow up this way. If you have an issue or need to speak to me: [number erased]."

Seriously. As misguided as I clearly think it is to penalize a little girl for who her parents are (much as I'd like to penalize this woman's son), why was this behavior necessary? This wasn't a party where the kids were going to a same-sex marriage ceremony, a food bank helping people with AIDS, or a Human Rights Campaign Fund event. This was a little girl's birthday party. I'd wager a guess that the so-called "lifestyle" of this girl's fathers would have closely resembled everyone else's.

If there's a bright spot, when this story was originally posted on Huffington Post, the woman's phone number was still listed on her response. I'd be willing to bet she got more than a few phone calls from people telling her what they thought of her behavior.

Raising your child in the midst of ignorance and prejudice will do more harm than going to the birthday party of a girl with two dads.

Movie Review: "August: Osage County"

Well, if you've ever thought your family was crazy, watch August: Osage County and you'll feel better instantly. Because short of, say, Oedipus' family or perhaps Medea's, there's no one out there crazier than the Westons.

Violet Weston (Meryl Streep) is a chain-smoking, pill-popping shrew, living in a drug- and emotionally induced haze the majority of the time. (The fact that she's suffering from mouth cancer doesn't stop her smoking.) Her husband, famed poet Beverly Weston (Sam Shepard) numbs the anguish of living with his wife through alcohol, and the two spend their days sniping at each other. They live in a house in Oklahoma where the air conditioning is never turned on and the shades are taped shut, so there's no concept of whether it's day or night.

Beverly's sudden disappearance summons the Westons' three daughters. Ivy (Julianne Nicholson) is the only daughter who stayed in Oklahoma, and she has sacrificed a good deal of her life caring for her parents, despite the fact that she's clearly not her mother's favorite. Flighty Karen (Juliette Lewis) comes from Florida with her sleazy fiancée (Dermot Mulroney) in tow. And the prodigal daughter, Barbara (Julia Roberts) comes home as well, in the midst of a marital crisis of her own with her husband (Ewan McGregor) and the issues of raising a teenage daughter (Abigail Breslin). Vi's sister, Mattie Fae (Margo Martindale) and her husband, Charlie (Chris Cooper) come to the rescue as well, and when Beverly's disappearance turns out to be a suicide, the pair's son, Little Charles (Benedict Cumberbatch) comes as well, to face prolonged haranguing from his mother.

Crisis brings out the worst in people, and as the family gathers to mourn Beverly's loss, the claws, old grudges and hurts, and occasional good memories come to the surface. Vi strikes out at whomever she can—she's angry at Barbara for taking away her pills (not to mention for leaving Oklahoma in the first place), at her husband for abandoning her, at her daughters for trying to control her life. She spends a lot of time doing what she calls "truth telling"—in essence, prying into people's lives and insulting them wherever she can. But clearly all of this venom serves as armor from a lifetime of dissatisfaction and hurt.

But unlike most families that come together to mourn, this gathering is marked by the disclosure of many painful and surprising secrets that threaten to tear the family further apart. Barbara is torn between wanting to rebuild her marriage and wallow in her anger about having to be back home in Oklahoma, confronted by the dysfunction she desperately wanted to escape. Ivy wants to finally stop sacrificing her own life and build a future with the man she loves, and Karen keeps looking for love in the wrong places.

Based on Tracy Letts' Pulitzer- and Tony Award-winning play, this is a tremendously melodramatic film, one which at times feels a little more like a television movie than a feature film. I felt as if the movie layered on so many different issues, crises, and secrets that I just kept waiting for the next thing to happen. (I was glad that the bombshells stopped at one point.) But the movie's humor (and lots of profanity) keeps it from turning utterly maudlin.

What elevates this movie is the fantastic acting. Streep tears into her part with incredibly emotional gusto, and this performance is definitely among some of her strongest in recent years, clearly deserving of her 18th Oscar nomination, which she received earlier this week.

But as good as Streep is, I was dazzled even more by Julia Roberts. Stripped bare of her glamor without it feeling gimmicky, her performance is emotionally charged and complex, and has a maturity that I thought was tremendous. In my opinion, it's one of her two best performances, and I hope she gets more opportunities to portray characters like this. (In almost any other year, this performance could net Roberts her second Oscar, but I think the competition in the Best Supporting Actress category is just too good this year.)

While this movie is mostly dominated by Streep and Roberts, many of the other actors have moments as well. Julianne Nicholson, following up her strong performance on Showtime's Masters of Sex is beautifully vulnerable as the daughter who has put her own life on hold for far too long, only to discover her dreams may go awry because of her family. Chris Cooper and Margo Martindale have some terrific scenes as well, and while one of my favorites, Benedict Cumberbatch, doesn't have a big role, he still manages to touch your heart.

I didn't love the movie but I thought the performances were pretty stellar. If you're a fan of melodrama, this is a movie for you; if not, you'll still be rewarded by some fantastic acting if you're willing to endure the soap opera for about two hours.

Bet that wasn't the advice they were looking for!

Don't know if you've heard about this, but in the syndicated "Ask Amy" advice column that appears in newspapers across the country, a parent recently wrote the following to columnist Amy Dickinson:

DEAR AMY: I recently discovered that my son, who is 17, is a homosexual. We are part of a church group and I fear that if people in that group find out they will make fun of me for having a gay child.

He won’t listen to reason, and he will not stop being gay. I feel as if he is doing this just to get back at me for forgetting his birthday for the past three years — I have a busy work schedule.

Please help him make the right choice in life by not being gay. He won’t listen to me, so maybe he will listen to you.
—Feeling Betrayed

(You've got to wonder if this person really is serious.)

Amy's reply was fairly straightforward, but probably not what this parent was looking for.

DEAR BETRAYED: You could teach your son an important lesson by changing your own sexuality to show him how easy it is. Try it for the next year or so: Stop being a heterosexual to demonstrate to your son that a person’s sexuality is a matter of choice — to be dictated by one’s parents, the parents’ church and social pressure.

I assume that my suggestion will evoke a reaction that your sexuality is at the core of who you are. The same is true for your son. He has a right to be accepted by his parents for being exactly who he is.

When you "forget" a child’s birthday, you are basically negating him as a person. It is as if you are saying that you have forgotten his presence in the world. How very sad for him. Pressuring your son to change his sexuality is wrong. If you cannot learn to accept him as he is, it might be safest for him to live elsewhere.

A group that could help you and your family figure out how to navigate this is Pflag.org. This organization is founded for parents, families, friends and allies of LGBT people, and has helped countless families through this challenge. Please research and connect with a local chapter.

It makes me sad that there are parents and other adults (some of whom are lawmakers, scarily enough) who believe that your sexual orientation can be changed as a result of pressure or, God forbid, therapy. I doubt that Amy's advice will change this parent's mind, but I hope that their child has the confidence to resist whatever it is his parents try to do.

I've no doubt that one day these things will be sad little anecdotes we'll look back on with horror and disbelief, but until then, it's kind of scary. And depressing. Kudos to Amy Dickinson for an incredible response.

Seriously?

If you've ever waited tables before, you know what it's like to have horribly rude customers from time to time. But the other night, Dayna Morales, a waitress at Gallo Asian Restaurant in Bridgewater, NJ, had customers who redefined the word.

Morales, a former Marine, should have known something was up when she seated the family and they commented on her short haircut. "Oh," one of the customers said. "I thought you were going to say your name was Dan. You sure surprised us!"

But the final straw came when the family left Morales no tip on a $93.55 bill, but instead wrote this comment on the check: "I'm sorry but I cannot tip because I don't agree with your lifestyle & how you live your life."

Honestly, as a friend said in response to an incident earlier this week, the crazy is starting to run loose in this world.

Now sure, this is a fairly isolated incident, but it comes on the heels of similar circumstances a few weeks ago, when a gay waiter at a Carrabba's Italian Grill in Overland Park, Kansas, received this note on his check instead of a tip: "We hope you will see the tip your fag choices made you lose out on, and plan accordingly."

Every time a legislator says that human rights should be decided by vote or that not every person is entitled to equality, and when the Speaker of the House of Representatives says that there is no need for legislation protecting employment discrimination against LGBT people when they can be fired for being gay in 29 states, we foster this type of attitude.

I don't know who these people think they are, but I hope they are forced to answer for their behavior someday, but whatever God they think entitles them to treat people in this way.

Fred Flintstone, they're coming for you again next...

It's November 1, which means the holiday season will soon be upon us. And with that, comes society's need for increasing politically correctedness, which inevitably winds up upsetting more people than it soothes.

By now, you've probably seen or heard about Hallmark's decision to change the text on its "Deck the Halls" ornament from "Don we now our gay apparel" (the lyrics of the Christmas carol) to "Don we now our fun apparel." Because, you know, the word "gay" has multiple meanings, and Hallmark didn't want the ornament to get misconstrued.

Look, I know there are still lots of people out there who have a problem with the existence of gay people. Heck, the Tennessee state legislature has tried numerous times to pass a law that prohibits schools from even mentioning the word "gay." But honestly, where this Christmas carol is concerned, who out there other than Beavis and Butthead and perhaps others of that same maturity level really think "homosexual" when they're singing Deck the Halls?

Hallmark's original rationale for the name change was as follows: "When the lyrics to 'Deck the Halls' were translated from Gaelic and published in English back in the 1800s, the word 'gay' meant festive or merry," Kristi Ernsting told The Huffington Post in an email. "Today it has multiple meanings ... the trend of wearing festively decorated Christmas sweaters to parties is all about fun, and this ornament is intended to play into that, so the planning team decided to say what we meant: 'fun.'" She added: "That’s the spirit we intended and the spirit in which we hope ornament buyers will take it."

Thankfully, public reaction to this decision has been mostly negative against Hallmark, much to their surprise. The company updated its statement Thursday, saying it was surprised by the public's response and that it now realized it shouldn't have changed the lyrics.

"We've been surprised at the wide range of reactions expressed about the change of lyrics on this ornament, and we're sorry to have caused so much concern," the statement read. "We never intend to offend or make political statements with our products and in hindsight, we realize we shouldn't have changed the lyrics on the ornament."

That being said, they're still selling the ornament.

It reminds me of the time when the lyrics to The Flintstones was changed from "We'll have a gay old time" to "We'll have a great old time," when the cartoon was updated a bit to include the Shmoo. Come on, people.

But then again, it's the holidays. Everyone is always aggravated about something.

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.

It's almost like Stephen King's "It"...

Warning: Do not read this blog post if you suffer from coulrophobia, the debilitating fear of clowns.

The town of Northampton, England, about 60 miles outside of London, is a fairly idyllic town which has a rich history dating back to the Bronze Age and is home to two rugby teams.

Oh, and since Friday, September 13, it's been terrorized by a clown.

Yes, you read that right. A red-haired, masked stranger in full clown regalia who wanders the streets at night carrying a bouquet of balloons, has appeared every night at various places around Northampton. But although he has frightened Northampton's citizens, who liken him to Pennywise, the evil clown in Stephen King's novel, It, the clown says, "I don't terrorise people. I just want to be spotted."

"He doesn't juggle. He doesn't twist balloons into animal shapes. He just stares," Northampton Herald & Post explained.

Is this a publicity stunt? A cry for help? Not at all, says the Northampton Clown. He has said—on his Facebook page and in a few interviews with media—that while people may be scared when he pops up, that's all part of the fun. That's his goal: "I just want to amuse people."

"Most people enjoy being a bit freaked out and then they can laugh about it afterwards," he said. "It's like watching a horror movie, when people get scared they usually start laughing."

And apparently that's not all. Because the clown has apparently given birth (so to speak) to a legion of friends and enemies, including Boris, the self-proclaimed "Clown Catcher." Dressed in a purple superhero suit, he also wanders the streets after dark and, on his Facebook page explains, "I am the official clown catcher. I am not here to scare anyone. I am not here to hurt anyone. I come in peace!" In fact, he only seems to want to meet the clown and take a picture with him.

Not quite sure what to make of this, but it reminds me of my freshman year in college when I read King's It. I had never been afraid of clowns before but, as those of you who've read the book can attest, Pennywise the clown scared the crap out of me. One of my college roommates used to pick up the book and read it when I was busy. One afternoon we were playing basketball in our room, and the ball rolled under my bed. Apparently my roommate had hidden a clown mask under there as a prank.

I didn't sleep in my bed for a week. Needless to say, I'm not visiting Northampton anytime soon...

Book Review: "The Last Whisper in the Dark" by Tom Piccirilli

Every time I read one of Tom Piccirilli's books, I think two things. First, he is a fantastic writer. And second, why isn't this man a household name? So many of Piccirilli's books deftly mesh terrifically complex characters, whip-smart dialogue, movie-worthy action, and great suspense. If you've not read one of his books and you're a fan of crime novels (or just damned good writing), pick one of them up and you'll be hooked.

The Last Whisper in the Dark is a follow-up to the equally fantastic The Last Kind Words. Terrier "Terry" Rand (yes, his family are all named after dog breeds, which feels less idiosyncratic in this book) is a thief, descended from a long line of thieves among members of the Rand family. He desperately wants a "normal" life but the obligations of family and the urge that is in his blood. He knows the path down which his genetics will lead him, but he isn't sure whether fighting it is the right thing to do.

When he fled his Long Island home and his family years before, he broke a promise to Kimmy, the woman he loved. And even though she married his former best friend, Chub, and had a daughter, Terry can't stop thinking about how this should be his life. He can't stop him from watching over Chub, although he's not sure whether he wants Chub to run the straight and narrow, or screw up so he might have another chance with Kimmy. But when he discovers that Chub has gotten in over his head, he promises Kimmy he'll bring her husband home, no matter what it does to him.

Meanwhile, the pull of family becomes even stronger for Terry, as he tries to save his younger sister, Dale, an aspiring actress, from destroying her life through her involvement in a dangerous Web series; as he tries to figure out where his brooding father goes at night; and when he is recruited by estranged family members he never knew he had—once-famous film executives turned horror movie producers—to right some wrongs in their business. But while Terry laments his past and fears his future, he is compelled to focus on the here and now, no matter how dangerous it may prove to him.

I am just so taken with the characters in this book as well as its predecessor. Terry Rand is so complicated, so compelling, one of those people you shouldn't like because of what they do but you can't help but be drawn to them. He is unapologetic about the way he lives his life, even as it's tearing him up inside (and sometimes outside), even though this life has taken such a toll on his family through the years, and this book is as much about that gravitational pull toward wrong than anything else. But at the same time, this is a book about family loyalty, family secrets, and how family can both draw you in and send you running (and reeling).

Piccirilli's writing is simply electrifying at times. There's enough action to get your blood pumping, and enough soul-searching to challenge you. I can't wait to see what he comes up with next, although I wouldn't mind a return to the Rand family.

Movie Review: "The World's End"

It's been said you can never go home again. Whether or not that's true, trying to relive your past isn't always advisable, because it's rare that you can capture the magic of your glory days.

Gary King (Simon Pegg) has learned that lesson the hard way. When he and his four best friends were seniors in high school in 1990, they were at the top of their game—Gary more so than anyone else. Cocky, confident, popular with the ladies, the quintet had some spectacular memories. One night around their high school graduation, they planned to accomplish a worthy goal—conquering the epic pub crawl in their town, with one pint of beer at all 12 pubs, ending at The World's End. While they weren't successful in this feat, for Gary, that night was the highlight of his life—one that he hasn't been able to replicate more than 20 years later.

Determined to relive those memories, Gary reunites his friends—his estranged wingman, Andy (Nick Frost, Pegg's compatriot from Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz); his rival, Steven (The Bourne Ultimatum's Paddy Considine); perpetually henpecked Peter (Ray Donovan's Eddie Marsan); and type-A real estate agent Oliver, aka "O-Man" (Bilbo Baggins himself, Martin Freeman). No one, particularly Andy, seems interested in drinking themselves into oblivion for one last hurrah, but Gary's charm convinces them to make the return trip to their hometown.

The pub crawl clearly emphasizes that Gary has never grown up or moved past high school, and it reopens some old wounds from those days. Yet a jealous rivalry between Gary and Steven for Oliver's sister, Sam (Jack Reacher's Rosamund Pike) appears to be the least of their problems, when the group discovers their hometown has been taken over by robots (although not quite robots). Suddenly the very fate of the world lies in the hands of these old friends, who must put aside their own issues to help protect life as we know it.

As you might imagine from the description, this is about where the movie goes from wry and funny to outlandishly silly and a little off the rails. It's certainly what you'd expect from the team behind Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, but truth be told, I would have been satisfied if the film had stuck to the story of the friends attempting the epic pub crawl without the ink-spouting replicants. It's almost as if Pegg and his co-writer, Edgar Wright, just wanted to cram everything they could into this movie, which left it a little weighted down rather than the stupidly funny movie I was expecting.

When the film allows Pegg and company to relive days of yore, pick up old fights and start new ones, it really shines, because the actors play really well against each other. Pegg and Frost are a terrific film pair, and Considine in particular has a wry, smirking bravado that works for his character. Everyone seems to be having a good time (you almost expect them to burst into laughter a few times), and that adds to the amusement factor.

In the end, this is definitely an amusing movie for a matinee or a rental (when available), as long as you keep its limitations in mind.

People are cretins...

Don't know if you saw this story in the news earlier in the week, but I've been to busy to post this before.

Apparently the grandmother of Max, a 13-year-old boy with autism, received an anonymous letter at her home in Newcastle, Ontario, Canada. The letter, signed by "One pissed off mother," refers to Max as a neighborhood "nuisance," "retarded," and a "dreadful" noise polluter.

But worse than that, the letter says, "Personally, they should take whatever non retarded [sic] body parts he possesses and donate it to science. What the hell else good is he to anyone!!! Do the right thing and move or euthanize him!! Either way we are ALL better off!!!"

See for yourself:

There are no words for someone like this. If the author of this letter is actually a parent, I fear for this person's children. Canadian police are investigating.

Sometimes people just baffle me.

Movie Review: "Blue Jasmine"

No matter whether his movies gravitate toward the fantastical (Midnight in Paris, The Purple Rose of Cairo, Alice) or the more ordinary (Hannah and Her Sisters, Radio Days), Woody Allen always has a discerning eye for human foibles, especially of those with a slightly less tenuous grip on reality.

Allen's latest film, Blue Jasmine, definitely leans more toward the latter category, although the title character periodically lives in a fantasy world all her own. Jasmine, née Jeanette (a haggard yet haughty Cate Blanchett), is having a tough time of things. Her marriage to wealthy businessman Hal (Alec Baldwin), in which she was showered with gifts and a life of privilege, has come to a jarring end, and she has lost all of her money and the trappings she had become used to. These losses, as she was forced to come to the realization that her husband was not all he seemed to be, has greatly affected her mental stability as well.

At the end of her rope, financially and emotionally, she flees to San Francisco to move in with her sister, Ginger (a marvelous if underused Sally Hawkins). Ginger and Jasmine have lived in two separate worlds for far too long, and it's no surprise to either of them—or those around them, including Ginger's brash mechanic boyfriend, Chili (Bobby Cannavale, gruff and vulnerable)—that Jasmine has reached out to Ginger only out of desperation. Yet despite her troubles, Jasmine isn't above putting on airs. She talks of becoming an interior decorator ("I have an eye for soft furnishings") and finding someone "substantial," but she must take a "menial" job to support herself.

Jasmine also pops Xanax as if they were Tic-Tacs and loves her Stoli martinis, and from time to time engages in conversations with the air (although she thinks she's speaking to Hal). Half of the film is told in flashbacks as you see Jasmine's life with Hal unfold, and get a taste of the life to which she has become accustomed. And you also see her character transition from the wide-eyed, naive spouse, happy to be pampered, to one growing increasingly suspicious of her husband, and you realize she isn't as innocent as she claims to be.

The other half of the movie chronicles Jasmine's attempts to reconcile her current situation with what she thinks she deserves. She's determined to help Ginger better herself as well, and keeps insisting she find a "more suitable" man than Chili, much to his chagrin. And Jasmine isn't quite through with her fantasies, as she makes one last run toward happiness and comfort with a new man (Peter Sarsgard).

Blanchett is an absolute marvel in this movie. She almost never stops talking—often rambling, in fact—but at times you're not sure if you should laugh with her or feel sorry for her. Her portrayal of a woman constantly on the verge of utter breakdown is poignant, humorous, and pathetic, but she is far from a sympathetic character. She definitely deserves an Oscar nomination for this performance.

This is Blanchett's movie, which doesn't leave many of her costars with much to do. Cannavale makes the most of his role as a blowhard who resents Jasmine's interfering in her sister's life, and his role in it. Hawkins brings her usual merry charm, and although you can see in her performance the seeds of a woman torn between helping the sister who has never shown her any attention and showing her the door, Allen never really gives her the chance to shine or explore exactly why she continues to be Jasmine's doormat. Surprisingly, Andrew Dice Clay makes the most of his small but pivotal role, while Louis C.K.'s part seems tacked on and unnecessary.

It's somewhat difficult to watch a movie that chronicles a woman's struggles and near dissociative breakdown, but Blanchett is so fantastic you can't take your eyes off her, even if the movie isn't quite as good as she is.

Pointing out someone else's wrong doesn't make you less wrong...

Oh, Alec Baldwin.

You know, I thought it was a little troubling when you called your daughter a "thoughtless little pig" a few years ago. When you went crazy because flight attendants asked you to stop playing Words with Friends on an airplane readying for takeoff, I understood, because how many of us haven't wondered why we can't use our Kindle, iPad, or iPod during an entire flight?

When you called a barista at Starbucks an "uppity queen," I thought, well, poor choice of words. But hey, Alec, you've been an outspoken advocate for equality and gay rights, so clearly you didn't mean anything homophobic. Right?

And then recently you were at it again, calling Daily Mail reporter George Stark a "toxic little queen" on Twitter for claiming your wife was Tweeting during James Gandolfini's memorial service. (Your exact Tweets, actually, were "If put my foot up your f--king ass, George Stark, but I'm sure you'd dig it too much," and "I'm gonna find you George Stark, you toxic little queen, and I'm gonna f--k you...up.")

You kind of lost me there, Alec. I don't care if you apologized to GLAAD, and I'm not interested in the fact that most are willing to give you a pass because of your vocal support of the gay community. You probably aren't homophobic, although you clearly have anger issues that manifest themselves in calling gay people (or people you find feminine) "queen."

Words hurt. It's not acceptable to call people names because they don't do what you like, especially when those names have hurtful connotation. We've sadly not moved far enough as a society that these words still don't have ramifications.

But just when I thought we'd reached the end of this debacle, you decided to open your mouth again. After your "toxic little queen" tirade, Anderson Cooper tweeted, "Why does #AlecBaldwin get a pass when he uses gay slurs? If a conservative talked of beating up a "queen" they would be vilified."

On Howard Stern's radio program, you decided you'd get even with Anderson Cooper. So you said, "Anderson Cooper has a job to do. And that job is to try to reinforce his credibility in the gay community after the fact that you couldn't get him out of the closet for 10 years with a canister of tear gas. Now he's the sheriff. Now he's running around writing everybody a ticket!"

I see. So instead of continuing to take responsibility for your own behavior, it's better to say, "Hey, look at this guy! He's worse than I am! I can't be wrong if this guy is wrong!"

That's not how it should work. It's nobody's business to dictate when a person should come out of the closet. And while, sure, Anderson could have made his disclosure much earlier in his career, he's not less of a person because he didn't.

Again, a lot of people in the gay community are willing to give you a pass, and actually take your side over Anderson Cooper's because of his so-called "hypocrisy" in waiting to come out of the closet. But Alec, I'm not one of those people.

It's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done in the past. But at some point, the words "I'm sorry" aren't a get-out-of-jail-free card every time you do something inappropriate. Apologize and then don't do it again. And don't think you're in a position to criticize others for what you think they should do.

Maybe then I won't switch the channel when a Capital One commercial comes on.

Quick! Is your car X'X" tall?

Good to see that signs at the Washington, D.C. Convention Center were proofread before they were hung.

The good news is, I'm sure this sign keeps all of the X-feet-tall cars from trying to park!