Book Review: "Orbital" by Samantha Harvey

The recently named winner of this year’s Booker Prize, Orbital takes place in space but it’s not science fiction. More than anything, it’s a meditation on life, solitude, companionship, the passage of time, and the beauty and fragility of our planet.

Set on an international space station, the book examines one (long) day in the lives of the six astronauts and cosmonauts aboard. Two women and four men, they come from the U.S., England, Italy, Japan, and Russia. They’re on board for nine months, and each is dealing with their own issues—internal and external ones. And each has important contributions to make.

“And in time we come to see that not only are we on the sidelines of the universe but that it’s of a universe of sidelines, that there is no centre, just a giddy mass of waltzing things, and that perhaps the entirety of our understanding consists of an elaborate and ever-evolving knowledge of our own extraneousness, a bashing away of mankind’s ego by the instruments of scientific enquiry until it is, that ego, a shattered edifice that lets light through.”

There isn’t a cohesive plot per se; the book is composed of snapshots of the different characters as the space station travels around the earth. Small personal details about each are shared, as are their activities. But predominantly, there is a great deal of reflection about the view of earth from the space station, what it feels like to be there and watch morning turn to evening and sunset to sunrise, again and again.

This is a gorgeously written book, full of dazzling descriptive imagery, although it does get a bit dry and repetitive after a bit, because there are only so many ways to describe the view and the feelings it provokes. I don’t know that I would have read this had it not won the Booker, but I’m glad I did.

Book Review: "So Thirsty" by Rachel Harrison

While I (mostly) tend to steer clear of scary books, I do love a vampire novel every once in a while. And Rachel Harrison’s new book is more than just a vampire novel—it’s a story of friendship, taking chances, bravery, and the occasional existential crisis.

“If there is a happy medium between being a resigned, mildly depressed thirty-six-year-old woman with a thankless job and cheating husband, and being an immortal vampire indulging her lust for blood and sex and her desire for love and excitement, it sure would be nice to find it.”

Sloane is going through the motions in her life. She has her routines, her job, her vaguely unsatisfying marriage, but she doesn’t love stepping out of her comfort zone. But when her husband Josh surprises her with a birthday vacation—for her and her best friend Naomi—she’s excited and dreading it simultaneously.

Naomi has always been the risk taker, the unapologetic flirt. She’s been traveling the world with her boyfriend and his band, and she’s starting to hate it. But what she hates even more is seeing Sloane settle for a boring life, avoiding conflict and any inkling of happiness.

Determined to show Sloane a great time on her birthday, she arranges for them to attend a party thrown by a man she met the night before. But this party is everything Sloane hates, and then things go so spectacularly off the rails that the friends are changed forever. Now, however, they have immortality—but their new thirst overrides logical thought.

This is definitely a bit graphic but it’s also thought-provoking and sexy. How far would you go for your best friend?

Book Review: "The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man's World, Second Edition" by Alan Downs, PhD

I don’t read much nonfiction beyond an occasional memoir, but this was our book club pick for August. We read the second edition, which was revised in 2011; the original was written in 2005.

The book is organized in three stages that the author believes describes the journey of most gay men. The stages are arranged by the primary manner in which gay men handle shame, from being “in the closet” and fearful of their own sexuality, to overcompensating by being more “successful, outrageous, fabulous, beautiful, or masculine,” to building a life based on their own values instead of feeling like they have to prove themselves.

“While we are different, we are at the same time very similar to all others. We want to be loved and to love. We want to find some joy in life. We hope to fall asleep at night fulfilled from our day’s endeavors. In these aspirations and appetites we are like all men and women. The problem is, our path to fulfilling these basic human needs has proven to be fundamentally different from the well-worn paths of straight humanity.”

While I recognized moments from my own coming out journey in the book, I also felt at many times the author was making generalizations that didn’t necessarily apply to me. I do understand that some may have a poor relationship with their fathers because of their sexuality, but that wasn’t the case for me.

What we found from our book club discussion is—unsurprisingly—every person’s experience is different, so the book resonated in different ways with each person. Some felt this was a powerful and valuable resource; others didn’t feel as connected to the book.

I probably wouldn’t have read this if it weren’t for the book club, but it definitely made me think. And sometimes that’s what reading does for us.

Book Review: "The Life Impossible" by Matt Haig

I’m a huge Matt Haig fan. The Midnight Library, The Comfort Book, and How to Stop Time are some of my favorite books. Given that fact, his newest book was one of my most eagerly anticipated this year. Unfortunately, this one didn’t live up to my expectations.

Grace has spent much of her life grieving: first, her son was killed before he became a teenager, and then her husband recently died. But then she gets a surprise out of the blue when she learns that a woman she knew briefly when she was teaching has left her a house on Ibiza.

Why would Christina leave her a house? They hadn’t been in touch for so long. Grace wants to make sense of it all, so she heads to Ibiza to see what answers she can find. She has no plan, she barely speaks Spanish, and she doesn’t know what to expect.

Ibiza awakens a lot of feelings for Grace, and forces her to come to terms with her own past, present, and future. And as she searches for answers about how Christina died and why she picked Grace to bequeath her house to, things get stranger and stranger. For a woman who has always turned to mathematics to help her cope with chaos, keeping an open mind is a challenge.

The book is told as a letter Grace is writing to a former student. While Haig paints an evocative picture, the narrative drags in a number of places and feels a bit schizophrenic in others. And although magical realism is one of my favorite plot devices, in this book it was all a bit too bizarre for me.

I’m definitely sad when a book I’ve been looking forward to is disappointing. But that won’t keep me from eagerly awaiting Haig’s next book.

Book Review: "Under the Whispering Door" by TJ Klune

In Under the Whispering Door, one of two books coming from TJ Klune in the next few months, we learn that it’s never too late to make your life the way you wanted it to be. Even after you’re dead.

How do I write a review of a book for which I have no words? To quote one of my favorite YA books, We Contain Multitudes, this one utterly undid me.

Wallace was a successful lawyer. He should be a success; he thought about nothing but working harder and doing better, even at the expense of those around him, including his employees. No one would ever say he was nice or friendly or compassionate or even considerate, and he didn’t care.

The next thing he knows, he’s watching his funeral. And then a reaper comes to collect him for his journey onward. Wallace is angry about being dead. He demands that things be fixed because his firm has work to do.

The reaper takes him to meet Hugo, the compassionate, handsome owner of a peculiar little tea shop. He’s also a ferryman, assigned to help Wallace get ready to cross over to his final destination. He’s seen anger like Wallace’s before and isn’t fazed, but he's determined to help Wallace reach his own understanding of the situation at hand.

But as Wallace starts accepting his death, he starts seeing his life for what it was, where he went wrong. More than that, he starts to realize the beauty of vulnerability, the power that comes from surrounding yourself with love and kindness and companionship. Is it too late?

Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea was my favorite book of last year and this very well may be my favorite of 2021. Moving, quirky, thought-provoking, and beautiful, it’s a book about living—even when you’re dead.

NetGalley and Tor Books provided me with a complimentary advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making it available!!

Under the Whispering Door publishes 9/21.

Book Review: "The Answer Is...: Reflections on My Life" by Alex Trebek

I'll admit I waited a while before reading Alex Trebek's The Answer Is..., reflections on life from the late game show host and television icon.

“...even if you are learning facts that you are not going to be able to use in your daily life, it enriches you—the fact itself just enriches you as a human being and broadens your outlook on life and makes you a more understanding and better person.”

I watch very little television, but watching Jeopardy every night has definitely been a ritual for many years, and I love playing along with (and sometimes doing better than) the contestants. I took the online quiz 10 times over the years and passed, and even went to take the in-person text nearly 30 years ago in Atlantic City, but never got the call to move to the next round. 😢

When Trebek announced he had pancreatic cancer, it felt like it happened to a family member, since I have been watching him all these years, and I was so sad when he died. I watched his last episode while sobbing and I still expect Johnny Gilbert to say his name when announcing the guest host.

The Answer Is... isn’t quite a memoir, but more reflections on his life—his childhood, family, ambitions, how he got into television, his career, his family, much about Jeopardy, and his thoughts on his impending mortality. He was wickedly funny and of course, as expected, there are moments of beauty and poignancy, as he speaks of his beloved wife and children.

As an avid game show watcher growing up, I remember him long before he started hosting Jeopardy, so this book was such an enjoyable read for me, but of course, one that left me teary-eyed at the end. (This is why I waited so long to read it.)

Even though I’ll never get to tell Alex I’d like to make it a true daily double, I’m grateful I was witness to a portion of his remarkable career and personality.

Book Review: "The Midnight Library" by Matt Haig

Wow, Matt Haig's newest novel, The Midnight Library, was absolutely beautiful.

“...sometimes the only way to learn is to live.”

Nora has decided she wants to die. She’s just so unhappy and doesn’t feel like she or her life matter to anyone. She's disappointed everyone in her life, and she doesn’t think her death will have an impact.

She finds herself in The Midnight Library, which is filled with books that each contains a life Nora could have lived had she made a different choice or picked a different path. Some books even contain lives she never imagined.

With the help of an old friend, Nora explores the options the library offers her. But sometimes the choices aren’t easy to make, and sometimes a decision has ramifications she could never fathom. Ultimately, she needs to understand what living a life really means, and whether it’s worth fighting for, before the choices she makes or doesn’t make doom the library—and her—forever.

I loved this book so much. Matt Haig is an amazing writer (I also loved his How to Stop Time) and this is such a moving, thought-provoking book. Many of us have felt the way Nora has, so this book had particular meaning for me.

This is definitely one of the best books I’ve read this year.

Book Review: "The Book of Dreams" by Nina George

Powerful, moving, and poetic, Nina George's newest novel, The Book of Dreams, is absolutely exquisite. It's so different from other books I've read recently, and it is one I won't soon forget.

"Maybe we're all stories that someone is reading, and maybe that will save us before we ultimately expire?"

Henri Skinner was once a renowned war reporter whose eyes have seen first-hand the horrors of our world. Shaped by tragedy at an early age, he is a passionate person, one prone to acting before he thinks. On his way to see his teenage son for the first time since he was an infant, he performs a heroic act, only to be struck by a car afterward. He now lies deep in a coma, hearing the voices of those he loves but also reliving his life's memories, as well as exploring the paths not taken.

Sam, Henri's son, is a highly intellectual synesthete (he sees sounds as colors and numbers as sounds) who has dreamed of having his father in his life for as long as he can remember, only to be told by his mother that his father wasn't the type to depend on. When he learns of his father's accident he begins a daily vigil at Henri's bedside. Even though the doctors say they see no sign of Henri's sensing what is going on around him, Sam believes his father hasn't given up yet, and implores him to return to consciousness.

While at the hospital, Sam meets Eddie Tomlin, a woman who was once deeply in love with Henri until he cruelly hurt her. She's moved on with her life but Henri had named her the executor of his living will, so she now must confront her feelings for this man to whom she once gave her entire heart. Eddie isn't sure if she wants Henri to awaken or if she is ready to say goodbye once and for all.

Another patient at the hospital is 12-year-old Madelyn, who has been in a coma since she was in a car accident that killed her entire family. Even though she cannot communicate, does not give any sign that she hears or feels or sees, the hospital continues to treat her, this poor young girl without anyone to look after her. Sam is taken with Maddie, and does everything he can to try and help her back to consciousness, as he tries to do the same for his father.

"There are places where time is thinner, where yesterday, today, and tomorrow converge and we can feel the presence of the dead and the echo of the future."

The Book of Dreams is about the thin line between life and death, of how keeping a person alive is often more for ourselves than the actual person. It's a book about love—both its presence and its absence—and how both can consume you. But more than that, this is a book about relationships, about finding the courage to act, to say the things you've always wanted, to never let regret occupy your mind.

This book is gorgeously written, brimming with vivid imagery and emotion. At times it gets a little confusing, as you're not sure what has happened and what is being dreamed, but the power of this book overcame any of its flaws where I was concerned. In a few days it will be five years since my father died suddenly, and this book, felt a bit like a gift for me, despite how difficult it was to read at times.

I haven't read any of George's other books, but she said in her afterword that her last three novels, The Little Paris Bookshop, The Little French Bistro, and this one form a cycle of novels about mortality and are colored by existential questions about death. I'm definitely going to have to pick her other books up, because this really touched me. It was both a beautifully written and a beautifully felt book.

Book Review: "Someday" by David Levithan

Every single day A becomes another person. The person's gender may change, their race may change, their age may fluctuate. Each day A has to navigate that person's life and try not to do any damage, simply stay the course so that no one around them notices anything different. It's a hard way to live, and A is lonely, longing to make a connection and feel the love that so many of the bodies they reside in get to feel.

One day, A met Rhiannon and felt that connection. But once you feel that, how can you give that away, even if that's the rule your life has always followed. After taking over the body of Nathan for one day, A had the chance to spend more time with Rhiannon, finally telling her the truth of why they can't be together. But that one day changes them irrevocably, and leaves them longing for more, for forever.

"What kind of rational person would ever believe the truth? Who wouldn't laugh when someone tells them it's possible to move from one body to another? That's how I reacted at first. The only reason I stopped being rational was because something irrational happened to me. And I knew it."

As A and Rhiannon try to find each other again, Rhiannon also has to decide whether disrupting her life and the lives of those around her is an adequate price to pursue a relationship which might never be able to fulfill. And as she explains to Nathan how the two of them are connected, she realizes there is so much more at stake. But how can she pass up that chance?

A always wondered whether they were the only one who has their kind of life, but it turns out they're not alone. Yet not all of those like A are resigned to living their lives the same way—at least one acts nefariously, causing wreck and ruin in the lives of those they inhabit.

"To love and be loved is to leave traces of permanence across an otherwise careless world."

In Someday, the third book in David Levithan's series of books featuring A, Levithan raises more existential and fundamental questions about life, love, connection, and the effects people have on our lives, sometimes without even realizing it. If you've read the other books in this series—Every Day (see my review) and Another Day (see my review)—you know you have to seriously suspend your disbelief to appreciate this story and feel the emotions the series piques.

Levithan is one of my favorite YA authors out there—he's written some of my all-time favorite books—and I love the way he tells a story. Yet while I absolutely loved the first two books in the series, this third book really left me wanting. Perhaps it was the multiple perspectives through which the story is narrated, perhaps it is the juxtaposition of what motivates A's character versus what motivates the character X, or perhaps it tries too hard to be more philosophical than the first two books. I guess this happens in many multi-book series, but I still was a bit disappointed.

If the concept of these books appeals to you, and you can suspend your disbelief, I'd highly recommend you read the first two books in the series. It's probably best you read them in order, because this book doesn't make as much sense without knowing what happened in the first two.

Even though I didn't like this book as much, I still love the concept, and I can't wait to see what Levithan comes up with next. It's definitely a refreshing spin on the angst-ridden issues we often see in YA novels.

Book Review: "The Invoice" by Jonas Karlsson

How much would you pay for happiness, for special memories, for a reasonably pleasant life? Is a placid existence worth more than a turbulent, more passionate one?

In Jonas Karlsson's new book, The Invoice, the unnamed main character lives a simple life. He's a film buff, working part-time in a video store in Sweden, where he likes to talk to people about movies, although he rarely gets the chance. He has a few friends whom he sees periodically, but since a relationship ended some time ago, he has no one special in his life. Mostly his nights include re-watching his favorite movies, and enjoying pizza and/or ice cream. It's not an exciting life, but even though he doesn't have much money or promising career prospects, he's not unhappy.

One day he receives an invoice from an unknown national company. The invoice is for an amount of money he cannot even fathom, and it doesn't explain why he suddenly owes this money. He soon finds that he's turned a blind eye to something that's happening in Sweden—people are literally being billed for the expense of their lives, differing amounts based on events that have occurred throughout their lives, how happy they have been, etc. But what he cannot understand is how can someone with not much to show for himself owe the largest amount of money in the country?

This is a charming little fable of sorts, which raises some interesting issues about happiness and how people perceive our lives differently than we do. Are happy moments better than those which cause us to feel strong emotions? Should we really be financially responsible for how our lives turn out emotionally?

I thought this was a sweet book, but it never really engendered a great deal of excitement for me. (Which, perhaps in light of this book isn't a bad thing?) I kept expecting something big to happen, and although there were some lovely small moments, it just didn't wow me as much as I thought. But the main character is appealing in a sweet, befuddled way, and I thought parts of the book really were charming. An interesting idea to think about.

NetGalley, Crown Publishing, and Blogging for Books provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Feelings of gratitude-ish...

The cornbread has just come out of the oven. The pies and cakes are done. That's all the prep work that needs to be completed before the big meal tomorrow.

As we get ready to spend Thanksgiving with those we care about, our thoughts turn not only to what time the turkey needs to be put in the oven, football, and food coma, but also counting our blessings and thinking about the things and people for which we're most thankful. (Of course, we should be thankful every day, but a holiday called Thanksgiving kinda accelerates the process, you know?)

This year, the joy of turkey, stuffing, and green bean casserole (the one thing I really do love most) is tempered by the hole in our hearts, as this will be the first Thanksgiving without my father. I've been told—and I've already experienced—that the "firsts" are always the most difficult, and there's no denying that, but a holiday that is marked by togetherness will be even harder.

The last six months have moved both exceedingly fast and far too slow, and while the realization that he won't just walk in the door has begun to sink in, I've still picked up the phone to call him countless times to share a thought or an anecdote with him.

Dealing with this loss, it would be easy to say there isn't anything I'm thankful for this year, because honestly, I'd give anything for even one more day. But truthfully, as I ponder the times I've felt grateful this year, especially the past six months, I realize that it's more important than ever to express my feelings.

To my friends and family from every phase of my life who have reached out countless times to see how my family and I are doing, I am more thankful than words can say.

Losing a member of your family makes you truly treasure those who are still with you, so I am grateful that despite the sadness, we will still celebrate Thanksgiving together, surrounded by special people.

I am, of course, grateful every day that I can spend my life with the one I love, and that the world is slowly but surely enabling everyone to have the rights to love whomever they choose, and do so with the same rights.

Most of all, I am grateful to my father. During the speech I gave at his funeral six months ago, I said that he was the greatest man I've ever known. I have endeavored every day (some more successfully than others) to live my life treating people the way he did, and I am beyond thankful to have had him as a role model and a friend.

No matter where you are, no matter whom you are with, I hope your Thanksgiving is a joyous one, and I hope you have things to be thankful for. Thank you for your generosity, your humor, your support, and everything that makes you the incredible person you are.

Book Review: "A Man Called Ove" by Fredrik Backman

This is one of those books you just want to give a hug.

Ove is, to put it mildly, a curmudgeon. He's not a very big fan of people. Or small talk. He believes in consistency, rules, simplicity. In Ove's mind, anything "newfangled" (cellphones, automatic cars, the internet) is unnecessary and just further evidence of how the world is growing lazier by the second. And don't get him started on people who don't obey signs, speed limits, regulations, or just common decency.

"People said he was bitter. Maybe they were right. He'd never reflected much on it. People also called him antisocial. Ove assumed this meant he wasn't overly keen on people. And in this instance he could totally agree with them. More often than not people were out of their minds."

But as we've seen in books and movies galore that feature the angry curmudgeon as its main character (everything from A Christmas Carol to Despicable Me), there's so much more to Ove than meets the eye. He is fiercely devoted to his wife, the one person for whom he'd do anything, even if it was accompanied by some grumbling and complaining. He is firmly rooted in his idea of right and wrong, and will fight the powers that be every way he can if he feels the situation isn't fair or just. But Ove's life is shaped by sadness and tragedy, and his behavior is a reaction to what has occurred around him.

When a new family moves in next door, complete with overly pregnant wife, clumsy husband, and two inquisitive young daughters, their first meeting is somewhat inauspicious—the husband flattens Ove's mailbox and drives into his flowerbed. (Another thing on Ove's list of dislikes: people who can't properly back up trailers.) But as much as Ove glowers and tries to push them away, they keep reaching out to him, they keep asking him for help, and involving themselves in his life—which leads him to (unwillingly) get involved in others' lives as well. And then the principled, fight-for-your-rights Ove comes out yet again.

From the first page, you pretty much know what is going to happen with Ove's character. We've seen it before. But it is a testament to Fredrik Backman's excellent storytelling that you absolutely don't care. This is a sweet, heartwarming book, and although Ove is a familiar character, Backman has made him so complex—and fleshed out his backstory and his reasons for his apparent anger and unwavering adherence to rules and principles so well—that your heart just aches for this man.

I've said numerous times before when writing reviews that I'm a total sap, and that when a book resonates with me emotionally I tend to really enjoy it. A Man Called Ove is definitely one of those books. At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to read a book in which I essentially knew what would happen at the start, but the journey that Backman takes you on is well worth it, even if there are familiar guideposts along the way. I found myself chuckling, and smiling, and even tearing up from time to time, so if a book makes you react in that way, how can you miss?

Book Review: "Station Eleven" by Emily St. John Mandel

"Hell is the absence of people you long for."

Emily St. John Mandel's Station Eleven is a big, ambitious, emotional, gorgeously written book that I absolutely fell in love with.

Arthur Leander is a famous actor nearing the twilight of his career. His life is full of unsuccessful emotional attachments, yet he is longing for simplicity, and a better relationship with his young son from a previous marriage. One night, during a stage production of King Lear in Canada, Arthur suffers a heart attack on stage and collapses. Kirsten Raymonde, an eight-year-old actress in the play, watches as Jeevan Chaudhary, a former paparazzi photographer and entertainment reporter-turned-aspiring paramedic, rushes up onstage to give Arthur CPR.

Strangely, hours after this incident, as Jeevan walks home, the entire world is overtaken by a massive flu pandemic, which spreads quickly. Those who do not become sick immediately react in panic—hospitals are flooded, roads are clogged with people trying to escape to a safer place, airlines stop flying. Jeevan holes himself up in his brother's apartment, and the two watch television stations cease broadcasting, the internet cease operating, and electricity die, and the subsequent rioting and looting that ensues.

Fifteen years after the pandemic, Kirsten is an actress with The Traveling Symphony, a group of musicians and actors who travel a path between different settlements, performing music and Shakespearean plays. Kirsten's life has been shaped by the violence and loss she has encountered along their travels, as well as the memories she has of life before the world changed. She is unprepared for how a random encounter in a small town with someone who calls himself "The Prophet" will affect her—and alter the course of her journey.

Station Eleven shifts perspectives and moves back and forth through time. We follow Arthur as his star rises and he blunders his way through relationship after relationship; Arthur's first wife, Miranda, who reinvents her life after her marriage collapses, and whose artistic talent has a reach far beyond her imagination; Jeevan, as he moves from career to career, continually tracking and encountering Arthur and Miranda; Clark, Arthur's childhood friend, who serves as a back-seat observer to the events and people who have moved through Arthur's life; and Kirsten, as she remembers glimpses of life before, and moves through a life different than anything she could have fathomed. Some have said the shifting narration and time makes the book seemed disjointed, but I loved how each person's story contributed to the rich tapestry of this book.

This is a book about love, loss, friendship, connection, and the power of memory. It's bleak and beautiful, heartfelt and heartbreaking, and it seriously made me think about whether I would be able to survive in a world like this, and the things I'd miss most. Yes, this is a book about the end of the world as people knew it, but there are no zombies or rebellions or shadow governments or anything like that. I told someone recently that I often read from a place of emotion, and that if a book makes me feel, I like it more than books that don't. While Station Eleven definitely provoked emotions and feelings, the writing is so utterly captivating as well. Easily one of the best books I've read this year.

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.

Measure your life in jellybeans...

In the musical Rent, the late Jonathan Larson talked about how life was made up of 525,600 minutes, and that you should measure your life in love. I certainly can't argue with those sentiments.

I was, however, intrigued when writing my newsletter at work, I came upon a post from Ze Frank, online performance artist, composer, humorist, and Buzzfeed's executive vice president of video, in which he examined the average human lifespan, measured out in jellybeans.

It's a humorous and surprisingly moving look at life. And you might want to have some jellybeans handy...