Book Review: "How to Sleep at Night" by Elizabeth Harris

At a time where the tiniest thought of politics is enough to make me cringe, I chose to read a book that had a political campaign at its core. And I really enjoyed it, so, yay me!

Ethan and Gabe have been together for years, since Gabe was a senior in college and Ethan was a few years older. They’re happily married, raising a young daughter named Chloe. Politically, Ethan has becoming more conservative, while Gabe has remained progressive all these years.

One night, Ethan tells Gabe he’d like to run for Congress—as a Republican. He believes that being gay, married, a former Democrat, makes him an even more appealing candidate. But he’ll only run if Gabe agrees, so of course, Gabe supports his husband’s ambitions.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s sister Kate—a political reporter for a newspaper—longs to regain the passion for, and fulfillment with, her job. But two things—her brother’s nascent political campaign and the return of Nicole, a woman she loved in college—threaten to upend her. And Nicole, bored with her suburban life and her passionless marriage, tempts Kate with a second chance at romance.

As Ethan’s campaign gains momentum, Gabe starts feeling more and more out of sync with his husband’s ideas. He hates the fact that everyone seems to assume he feels the same way as Ethan about the issues of the day. This cognitive dissonance causes more tension in their marriage and the campaign.

This was tremendously compelling from the very start. I’ll admit I didn’t find any of the characters all that sympathetic, but I was completely invested in their lives, and wondered just how Elizabeth Harris would tie everything up. What a great debut novel!!

Book Review: "Heavy Hitter" by Katie Cotugno

It’s a measure of pop culture that Heavy Hitter is the second book I’ve read that is (very) loosely based on Taylor Swift. (The first was The Breakup Tour by Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka.) This book parallels Taylor’s relationship with Travis Kelce. I definitely enjoyed this one a bit more.

Lacey Logan is an international megastar of the music world. Every move she makes is followed by paparazzi and her fans, who overanalyze everything she does. She was dating a comedian for two years, only to discover he was a cocaine addict and had a secret girlfriend who was pregnant. So now, when she isn’t performing, she’s pretty lonely.

One night while at a club with a friend, she meets Jimmy Hodges, a baseball player in his last season before retirement. He’s a mountain of a man, totally unlike anyone Lacey has been interested in before, and a few years older than her. But they click right away, and their banter lights a fire in both of them.

After a brief encounter leaves them both breathless, neither expects anything to happen again. But their nightly phone conversations blossom into something more, and they’re both interested in and afraid of seeing what would happen if they got together again.

Even though Jimmy has dealt with the press throughout his career, he’s totally unprepared for what comes with even being near Lacey. And as they try to navigate their lives separately and together, questions arise about each other’s intentions and if they ultimately want to move forward anyway.

I’ve become a real fan of Katie Cotugno’s, having read all three of her adult novels. I thought this was fun and steamy, and it even had some raw emotion, so while at times I wanted to scream at Lacey and Jimmy, I was rooting for them all the same.

Book Review: "The Unquiet Bones" by Loreth Anne White

Human bones are found one day beneath a chapel on the grounds of a ski resort. It appears they’ve been there for nearly 50 years. The evidence links the strangely well-preserved remains to 16-year-old Annalise Jansen, who went missing in the mid-1970s.

Detective Jane Munro, assigned to handle cold cases as a punishment for acting out, knows what it’s like to have a loved one go missing. Her fiancé disappeared while on a hiking trip, and shortly thereafter she found she was pregnant. Jane is determined that Annalise’s family will get the closure it needs once she and her colleagues figure out what happened.

Quite a lot went on the night Annalise went missing in 1976. Six of her closest friends made a pledge to stand by each other’s alibis, and even were dubbed “The Shoreview Six” by the press back then. But when news about Annalise’s remains being recovered goes public, it threatens to fracture the promises and expose the fears and assumptions that have lingered in the back of their minds all these years.

I love police procedural-type books, and while this is a mystery as well, I found the partnership between the police and a forensic anthropologist to be fascinating. There were definitely some things I never knew were possible to detect from bones.

I really enjoyed Jane’s character and how she balanced her own issues with her determination to solve the case. I felt like there definitely were hints that this could be the first book in a series, perhaps teaming her up with Dr. Quinn, the forensic anthropologist, and I’d love that.

The pacing of the book was a bit uneven; it was very slow at first and then so many secrets were revealed it was hard to determine what were facts and what were distractions. There also were so many characters to keep track of, and in some cases they had different names and/or nicknames back in the 1970s, so I had to write stuff down.

Book Review: "The Royal We" by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan

The Royal We by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan is full of soapy royal intrigue, as the heir to the throne sets his sights on a young American woman.

When Rebecca “Bex” Porter first meets Nicholas, Prince of Wales, he lets her in to their dorm at Oxford, where she’ll be studying for a year. He even helps carry her luggage. But she hasn’t the first clue who he is.

While their second meeting isn’t much more impressive (she’s in a towel, so perhaps it was for Nick, but she also drops her tampons all over the place), over time the two develop a close friendship, bonding over their love of bad American television and junk food, and the fact that she treats him like a regular person, unlike the women he's been dating and other women he encounters.

Given the fact that one day he’ll be the King of England and she’s an American whose father invented a couch with a refrigerator under its seats, there are a million reasons they shouldn’t fall in love. But that’s what happens, despite a number of more suitable women being pushed at him.

At first they keep things quiet so as not to rile up his family or the press, but after a while Bex gets tired of hiding. She is unprepared for the frenzy that follows her wherever she goes and all the ways she’s declared an inappropriate choice. She doesn't understand why Nick expects her to rise above all of the criticism she faces from every direction, why he won't defend her.

Can true love survive the machinations of the royal machine, not to mention those of so-called friends, family, and the scandal-hungry press? Is Bex willing to transform herself into the woman she must be in order to be an appropriate bride for Nick? Is Nick willing to fight for Bex?

I’ll admit I’m a tiny bit obsessed with the royals so I really enjoyed this fun, soapy romance which was apparently inspired by William and Kate. It’s a little long, and the will-they-or-won’t-they drama drags a bit, but I was still hooked, and I’m looking forward to the second book in the series due out this summer.

Book Review: "The Gravity of Us" by Phil Stamper

This was so beautiful and thought-provoking!!

Cal is a successful social media journalist with over half a million followers. But he doesn’t just make wry or cynical observations, or talk about the latest trends or restaurants in his Brooklyn neighborhood or in NYC. He really uses social media to make a difference, and played a huge part in getting younger people interested in the last presidential election. And people noticed—he landed an internship with BuzzFeed he can’t wait for.

But his whole life is about to be turned upside down. Call’s father has just been selected as an astronaut for a possible NASA mission to Mars, so the agency is relocating all of the astronauts and their families to Houston, to try and recapture the camaraderie of the early days of the space program.

Cal isn’t prepared for the media frenzy surrounding the space program, and although he’s technically not supposed to do any more social media broadcasting from Houston, he can’t resist putting his own spin on things, which puts him in the middle of a battle between NASA and a trashy media program that somehow has gotten an exclusive to cover the astronauts.

Life isn’t all bad, though, as Cal meets Leon, the son of another astronaut, and they fall for each other quickly and intensely. But Leon has his own struggles to deal with, and when Cal realizes he needs to use his online fame to right some wrongs, he doesn’t realize how that might put other things at risk, including his relationship with Leon.

Can we save those we care about or do we have to let them do that themselves? What are our obligations to those we love?

Phil Stamper’s book is so good, full of the flush of first love, the emotional struggles many have to deal with, and the excitement of getting to explore unknown territory. I have been trying to get an ARC of this for a while so I was so excited to finally get it. His writing is fantastic, and this story is compelling from start to finish. It's always nice to find a story where the characters' sexuality isn't cause for scandal or emotional crisis, it's just another aspect of their lives.

NetGalleyand Bloomsbury USA provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making it available!

This book publishes February 4, 2020.

Book Review: "Talk to Me" by John Kenney

"But deep down in places he rarely allowed himself to go, Ted knew he was a lie. A handsome, large-headed, reasonably intelligent lie. They had made him this thing, this...character, this cartoon, really, where once, long ago, Ted had been a reporter. A writer."

Ted Grayson is a well-respected television news anchor. At 59, he's one of the last bastions of the "old guard" of news media, as television networks battle with cable and internet for ratings and advertising dollars. The definition of what is "news" has also changed since he got his start, and at times he doesn't even recognize the industry he's working in.

But while he is well-regarded by the viewers, his family doesn't have the same opinions about Ted. He and his wife, Claire, have been estranged for some time (following a long period of time where they were estranged even while living in the same house). She is weary after years of neglect, infidelity, and Ted's need to chase a story instead of actively participate in his marriage. Ted's daughter, Franny, hates him. Nothing he does is not deserving of scorn, even if Franny has more than her own share of issues.

"Life changes. This was the essence of news. Why did it come as such a shock to an anchorman?"

One night, in the middle of a newscast, things go spectacularly awry. Ted loses his temper and goes on a profanity-laced and misogynistic rant. It's a momentary lapse, but it doesn't wind up on camera, so everyone is hoping it will blow over. But then it hits the internet, and then it's a matter of minutes before Ted, and everything he represents, wind up in big trouble. Everyone has an opinion, and none of them are anything less than career-ending.

Franny, who works for a popular "news" website, watches her father's downfall with bemusement. But when it is suggested that she interview Ted for an article to help bolster her somewhat-flagging prospects at the site, she isn't sure whether she really hates her father enough to make career hay at his expense. Ted, on the other hand, wonders if it matters at all what Franny writes. Maybe he does deserve everything that's coming to him. Or maybe it's an opportunity to gain some control of himself before it really is too late.

John Kenney's Talk to Me is the story of a man whose career—and his life—are in freefall. It's a look at what it's like to finally have to come to terms with the choices you've made and whether you would make them again, and at whose expense you've made them. Ted's problems aren't unique—we've seen this type of story play out many times in real life, both involving celebrities and "real" people.

At the same time, this is a book about our scandal-hungry society, how the media loves to put people up on a pedestal only to gleefully knock them down when they make a mistake. It's a commentary about how quickly bad news, errors, or misdeeds travel, and the ripples they cause. It's also a look at the balance between news and entertainment, and how easy it has become to confuse the latter for the former.

When the book focused on Ted and his downfall, and how clueless he really was about the ramifications of what he did, I really enjoyed Talk to Me. But the more it focused on the outrage caused by Ted's rant, the reactions of those in society and the media, and the machinations of Franny's boss, I didn't find the book as interesting. I guess I feel like we're living in that society right now, and I didn't need much more of an analysis of how angry and unforgiving we can be to those who do things we perceive to be egregious.

Kenney is a great writer, and he has achieved a tough feat of making you care about unlikable characters. Ted and Franny in particular were complex, flawed yet sympathetic characters whose trajectories I understood. I didn't feel as if Kenney gave Claire as much depth, and I found a tangential storyline with an old roommate of Franny's to be mostly unnecessary.

So while I wasn't head over heels for Talk to Me, there are enough redeeming qualities to recommend it. There's some real emotion here amidst the melee, and it is those moments that make this book worthwhile.

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

Book Review: "The Spectators" by Jennifer duBois

Both a commentary on the dysfunction incited by the sensational talk show culture of the late 1990s and a meditation on the gay community before and during the AIDS crisis, Jennifer duBois' upcoming book The Spectators is at times beautiful and lamenting, at others meandering and confusing.

Matthew Miller is a talk show host whose show, "The Mattie M Show," is a spectacle. With programs that focus on taboo relationships (including a man and a goat) and routinely feature fighting (a la Jerry Springer), the show becomes a cultural lightning rod, one of those programs that commentators like to point to as a sign that our society is in decline.

When a shooting occurs in an Ohio high school, and it turns out the students responsible were huge fans of the show, Mattie becomes an object of intense scrutiny, as does the show bearing his name. The more his critics debate the show's sensationalism, whether it is staged or authentic, and what its role was in the tragedy, the more people—even those who work on the show—realize how little they know about Mattie.

As Cel, the somewhat disconnected, disenfranchised publicist for the show, tries to figure out who her boss really is and how they might right this sinking ship (if she even cares to), she starts to hear rumors of Mattie's past, as an ambitious politician whose career was met with scandal. Does this explain Mattie's attitude toward the show's problems, or hint at what his next step might be should the show get canceled?

Meanwhile, Mattie's former lover, Semi, a playwright, tells a different story, a story of Mattie in the carefree yet politically tense 1970s in New York City, when he went from lawyer to idealistic politician. Through Semi's eyes, we see how the gay community transformed from one of merriment and freedom to one wracked by the horrors of AIDS, how it affected the culture, politics, relationships, everything.

While there was a link between Semi's relationship with Mattie in the past and the Mattie of current times, quite often it felt like The Spectators was two separate books. The chapters narrated by Semi—some of which felt like they were being told by a Greek chorus of those whose lives were touched by AIDS—were beautifully written, poignant, even emotionally searing at times, but when the narration shifted to Cel and the issues with the show, I started to lose interest.

The discussion about media sensationalism and its role in society's crises is certainly a relevant one, yet I didn't feel like the book was willing to stake out a position whether those who foment antagonism or appear to embrace spectacle and falsehood have any responsibility for prejudice, violence, or other actions taken by their viewers or listeners. But even more frustrating for me was the fact that Cel had very little charisma as a character let alone a narrator. Much of her interactions with other characters seemed stilted or stammering, and it seemed crazy that a popular show would employ such an inarticulate person as its publicist.

duBois' talent for imagery and emotion was particularly evident in those chapters narrated by Semi and others. There were many passages which I read more than once and thought were almost poetic. Sadly, the book as a whole didn't work for me. I almost wish the whole book could have followed Mattie, Semi, and his friends through the 1970s and beyond rather than get distracted by the whole issue with the television program. Oh well.

NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Book Review: "Ragdoll" by Daniel Cole

Despite the fact that I had a medley of Aerosmith's Rag Doll and Rag Doll by The Four Seasons running through my head while reading this book (not because of any plot points, just because my head is full of musical earworms), Daniel Cole's Ragdoll was a pretty fantastic, page-turning crime novel. It's a rarity when a book like this can surprise me, when my habit of suspecting nearly every single character introduced doesn't irritate me when the crime is solved, but Cole did a great job with this book.

Dogged police detective William Oliver Layton-Fawkes, nicknamed Wolf, has received more than his share of notoriety, most of it more negative than anything else. After catching the suspected "Cremation Killer," London's most prolific serial killer in its history, his reputation went from hero to villain as the trial highlighted manipulation of evidence, police brutality, and suspicions of abuse in his own marriage. When the suspect was acquitted, Wolf's actions wind up getting him suspended and hospitalized in a mental institution, his life a shambles.

When the killer acts again, and Wolf is proven to have been correct all along, he returns to the police force under psychological evaluation and more supervision than he has had in the past. But it's not long after he's handed his most grisly murder case, which the press has labeled "The Ragdoll Murder"—the body is made of the dismembered parts of six victims, sewn together like a puppet. As Wolf and his colleagues set out to identify the victims and find the killer, but their work is foiled by the press, particularly Wolf's ex-wife, Andrea, a ruthlessly ambitious reporter. Andrea anonymously receives photographs of the crime scene as well as a purported list of the killer's next six targets, with the dates he plans to kill them. Last on the list: Wolf.

The police force finds themselves in a race to protect the people on the killer's list, but realize they are dealing with a more ingenious and dangerous nemesis than they originally believed, not to mention one willing to use the media to help pressure the police into making mistakes. At the same time, the intensity with which Wolf throws himself into this case threatens to reopen the emotional wounds he suffered during the Cremation Killer case, and has the potential to pit colleagues against colleagues in solving the crime.

Cole balances the crime-solving in this book with a great deal of character development as well as suspense, action, and emotion. Wolf is a fascinating, flawed character I hope to see again, and the relationships with his colleagues which Cole explored were complex and compelling. This is a book which works on all levels, which is often a rarity with crime novels.

It's amazing to think that this is Cole's debut novel, because his storytelling is tremendously focused and on-point. While there was one plot point I didn't love, I enjoyed this book immensely, and if I were anywhere other than my association's annual conference I would have devoured it in a second. Don't be swayed by the unusual musical earworms it spawned in my head—pick up Ragdoll if you're a fan of crime novels, because this is one not to be missed.

Book Review: "Before the Fall" by Noah Hawley

Full disclosure: I received an advance copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an unbiased review. Many thanks to NetGalley and Grand Central Publishing for making it available!

It's an evening in late August, a little foggy but otherwise uneventful. On Martha's Vineyard, the private plane belonging to David Bateman, the power behind one of the country's major cable news networks, is scheduled to take off and head back to New York. David and his wife Maggie, and their two young children, nine-year-old Rachel and four-year-old JJ, are ready to head home, and their friends Sarah and Ben Kipling are joining them on the flight. Maggie has also invited Scott Burroughs, a painter that she has befriended on their many visits to the Vineyard.

Scott arrives late, just as the plane was preparing to take off, so he tries to relax. There's music playing, and David and Ben are watching the Boston Red Sox game. Small talk is exchanged, and the flight attendant offers everyone a beverage. And then, inexplicably, 16 minutes after takeoff, the plane plunges into the ocean.

Scott regains consciousness in the ocean and begins to realize what has happened. As he tries to find other survivors of the crash, he hears the cries of JJ, apparently the only other person left alive. Despite a shoulder injury, Scott, once a championship swimmer inspired by the legendary Jack LaLanne's swim from Alcatraz when Scott was a boy, swims with JJ nearly 10 miles to shore.

As the authorities try to figure out what caused the crash, details are uncovered and theories begin to emerge. Was the plane brought down by someone determined to may David pay for his network's manipulating of popular opinion via the news it broadcasts? Were there other reasons for sabotage, perhaps related to one of the other passengers on board? Were the flight crew trustworthy?

Of course, the person in the most blinding spotlight is Scott. While his heroism is heralded, it's also questioned, suspected. How did he wind up on the plane that night? What was his relationship with Maggie? How is he the only adult survivor from a plane full of important people? The media circles, leaving no stone unturned, questioning everything in his past, even the pictures he has painted. And as Scott reaches out to JJ given the bond they shared, there are some suspecting nefarious elements there, too.

Before the Fall is a book that doesn't know what it wants to be. Is it a meditation on the fragility of life, the simplicity of luck, and the unconscious act of a hero? Is it a look at how quickly one's life can change, and the beauty of a simple bond between a man and a young child? Is it a portrait of our media-obsessed society, where in an effort to be first to break a story, the media broadcasts what it knows and then makes up what it doesn't, crafting facts to fit the theories they want to espouse? Or is it a thriller, as the authorities (of course, not without the usual pissing match between branches of the government) try to figure out what really did happen on the plane that night?

Noah Hawley tries to make this book all of those things, which means it doesn't quite succeed on any of those fronts. It is beautifully written, and Scott is a fascinating character. If the book had concentrated on him and his life following the crash, and how JJ and those around him dealt with the aftermath, I think this would have been stronger and more appealing, at least for me. But the book gets bogged down in looking at the lives of each of the other passengers and crew on board that night, and what brought them to that moment, and then the zealous media coverage of the crash and the suspicions being levied against Scott (particularly by a corrupt anchor on David's network), and it really frustrated me.

Since Hawley is the executive producer, writer, and showrunner for the television series Fargo, this book is getting a lot of attention, and is even being hyped as "the thriller of the year." I'd nominate several other books I've read so far this year for that honor (particularly Gregg Hurwitz's Orphan X), but despite the fact I think Before the Fall suffered from a bit of an identity crisis, it's definitely a worthwhile, compelling read.

Book Review: "Beauty Queens" by Libba Bray

Beauty pageants are often frequent targets of satire, even if most of the aspects that are lampooned are pretty exaggerated. We love to pull out the "world peace" trope, and revisit the idea that beauty pageant contestants are dumb, even if in reality they're quite often tremendously accomplished. (And I say this as both a fan and a nearly 12-year volunteer with the Miss America Organization.)

The young women in Libba Bray's satire, Beauty Queens, a cross between Miss Congeniality and Drop Dead Gorgeous, with a little bit of the media-related commentary of Max Headroom are in a class by themselves. They're flying to the beach to compete in the Miss Teenage Dream pageant, and their every move is being captured by film crews, with the culminating event being the televised pageant itself. And then the unthinkable happens—their plane crash-lands on a deserted island, killing the majority of the contestants and all of the adults involved, and leaving a select few to fend for themselves.

From the get-go, Miss Texas, Taylor Rene Krystal Hawkins, wants the survivors to keep practicing their musical numbers, keeping up their beauty rituals (despite losing most of their cosmetics, not to mention food and water and hygiene products), because Miss Teenage Dream is always prepared. But Miss New Hampshire, Adina Greenberg, who never really cared much about competing anyway, thinks it's crazy the girls don't concentrate on surviving the elements and try to get rescued. They can't have a pageant if all the contestants have starved to death or get eaten by wild animals, can they?

But what the contestants don't realize is that the island isn't deserted—it's actually the site of a top secret compound run by "The Corporation," the conglomerate that produces the pageant as well as nearly every popular television show (like Patriot Daughters," featuring a sexy Betsy Ross, and Captains Bodacious, which features a group of telegenic young men masquerading as pirates), movie, book, and record, not to mention pharmaceuticals, fashions, and beauty products. And The Corporation is about to take part in a very shady business deal with a very shady foreign dictator.

Beauty Queens lampoons so many elements of pageants, from the pushy mothers who strong-arm their daughters into competing, to the vapid contestants who know a lot about makeup and smiling but little about the world around them. And then there's the most famous Miss Teenage Dream ever, Ladybird Hope, now an aspiring presidential candidate. Her take on why the pageant is important:

"Our country needs something to believe in, Barry. They need us to be that shining beacon on the hill, and that shining beacon will not have all these complications and tough questions about who we are, 'cause that's hard, and nobody wants to think about that when you already have to decide whether you want Original Recipe or Extra Crispy and that little box is squawkin' at ya. And let me tell you something, Barry, that shining beacon will have a talent portion and pretty girls, because if we don't come out and twirl those batons and model our evening gowns and answer questions about geography, then the terrorists have won."

Parts of this book were quite funny, and the contestants' adventures were interspersed with "commercials" from The Corporation. But after a while, as the plot got more and more outlandish, it started to lose steam, and it just wasn't as funny anymore. There were only so many times the contestants could joke about the slutty one, the lesbian, and the token minorities, or the plot entailed the contestants defending themselves with everyday beauty tools and products before the book just lost its appeal. I think if this book were shorter, it definitely would have been funnier, but instead it appears Bray tried to cram as much as she could into the plot.

If you enjoy satire and social commentary about just how silly the media is and how much control it has over us, you may enjoy Beauty Queens. It's definitely amusing, even laugh-out-loud, stupid funny in places. I just wish it didn't lose steam before it ended.

Book Review: "All This Life" by Joshua Mohr

Tremendously thought-provoking, compelling, and slightly disturbing, Joshua Mohr's All This Life is an intriguing commentary on the chaos wrecked by society's constant obsession with social media, and how it simultaneously connects and disconnects us. (And yet, here I sit, posting this review on my blog and multiple social media sites...)

It seemed like just an ordinary morning on the Golden Gate Bridge. Countless commuters are stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic, including Paul and his teenage son Jake. Then suddenly the morning doldrums are broken by a seemingly unbelievable group of people who appear from out of nowhere—and then absolutely astound onlookers with their actions. Jake, riveted in disbelief, captures the entire incident on his phone and quickly posts the video, achieving viral success and garnering online fame—and criticism.

At the same time, in a small town, 18-year-old Sara is distracted by the coverage of the cataclysmic event in San Francisco by her own media event: her boyfriend has posted their sex tape online, and she becomes both a pariah and an online obsession. Needing to get out of town, to escape the criticism and pointing fingers, she enlists the help of Rodney, her old boyfriend whose injury in a freak accident three years earlier derailed his life and their relationship, but not his feelings for Sara.

As the lives of Paul, Jake, Sara, Rodney, and others are affected and transformed by tweets, social media posts, text messages, and online videos, they also must confront problems they never expected. They struggle with being judged, cajoled, criticized, and occasionally praised by people they've never, and will never, meet, and they'll also deal with feeling more alone than ever before despite being connected to people all over the world.

"This is how the world works. This is why we're smarter now: We share everything with everyone, have access to each sight and sound. We are informed and connected!"

As someone who is pretty active on many different forms of social media, but sometimes falls prey to obsessing over the number of friends, followers, likes, or retweets I get, I found this book really fascinating and powerful. Mohr weaved a number of seemingly disparate storylines together, and all but one seemed like a story you'd hear about from a friend, or perhaps see through a post on your friend's Facebook wall or Twitter feed, or perhaps see on a YouTube video. He is an excellent storyteller, and this book really made me think.

If I have any criticism of All This Life, it's the appearance of one random character whose presence threatened to derail the entire book, but luckily Mohr didn't let his characters fall prey. So many issues, emotions, and tough questions are pondered here, but the book never really seems heavy; it seems very current and relevant. Well done, Joshua Mohr!

Movie Review: "Gone Girl"

I'll admit I was one of the few people who wasn't entirely enamored with Gillian Flynn's novel Gone Girl.

When I read it two years ago, I remember enjoying some of the plot twists, but ultimately I had trouble because I found the main characters so immensely unlikeable. But since it didn't make that positive of an impression on me, I didn't remember much about the book save the major gist of the plot, so I had no worry about whether or not the film adaptation would be faithful to the book. After seeing David Fincher's movie (filmed from a screenplay Flynn wrote), I can unequivocally say that, unlike what occurs in most cases, this is a film adaptation that far surpasses the book on which it's based.

It's the fifth wedding anniversary for Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) and his wife, Amy (Rosamund Pike). The couple met cute at a party in New York City and had a few good years of marriage, but after they both lost their jobs and they moved back to Nick's Missouri hometown, their relationship has been strained, to put it mildly. But when he returns home after spending some time at the bar he and his twin sister (Carrie Coon) own, he finds his front door open, Amy missing, and evidence of some kind of struggle in his house.

Nick has no idea what happened to his wife, but as his actions as the concerned, grieving husband are met with increasing skepticism by Amy's parents, his fellow townspeople, and the media, a dogged police detective (Kim Dickens) is determine to figure out exactly what happened to Amy, and what role Nick played. And as more secrets about Nick come to light, there becomes increasing sentiment that Nick must have killed Amy, even among those closest to him.

If you've read Gone Girl you know this is where Gillian Flynn totally flips the script. And on the off chance you haven't read the book and don't know the twist, I'm going to just say it changes everything—some say for the better, some for the worse. (Count me among the former.)

Fincher brings his trademark style to this movie, which is part mystery, part social commentary on how quick the media is to make judgments which influence so many people in our society. The music, by frequent Fincher collaborators Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, brings a chilly feel to the film which suits it perfectly.

The film runs just over two and a half hours, but other than wondering exactly how the movie would tie itself up, I never looked at my watch. (I did continuously glare at the man on one side of us who kept texting, and a couple who spent the entire movie talking—loudly—but that's another rant for another day.)

The performances in this film are wonderful, led by the exquisite Rosamund Pike. You can't take your eyes off of her, because she's stunningly beautiful, of course, but more because her performance is full of fleeting glances and expressions that give her character so much depth. Pike's Amy is everything you'd think a man would want in a woman—sexy, smart, romantic, naughty, supportive—until you realize just how crazy f--king psychotic she truly is. This is a woman you do not want to mess with, but Pike is utterly mesmerizing, and completely worthy of an Oscar nomination.

Ben Affleck turns in another strong performance, once again proving that early jabs about the longevity of his acting career were unfounded. You don't quite know what to make of his Nick—is he grieving, relieved, guilty, or just a lying psychopath? Affleck's performance is slippery enough to keep you interested, and you don't know whether he's presenting Nick as genuine or as the person he thinks people want to see. He more than holds his own against the charismatic Pike.

The supporting performances in the movie are terrific as well—notably Carrie Coon as Nick's sister, who is simultaneously devastated for what is happening for her brother and wondering exactly what he isn't telling her; Neil Patrick Harris as a creepy ex-boyfriend of Amy's; and Kim Dickens, as the police detective who doesn't want to get taken in by the public cry for Nick's arrest, but doesn't know whether to trust her instincts or trust the facts that she is finding. Missi Pyle has some fun moments as a Nancy Grace-like zealot voicing outrage at the case.

I enjoyed this movie far more than I expected, and while it's obviously a depressing commentary on marriage, I found it truly compelling. The one thing I remembered about the book is that when you're presented with the story of two flawed, not-entirely-honest people, you don't know exactly what to believe is true. And you may very well walk away from this movie with questions, but that's part of its charm. I wouldn't be surprised—and I'd be pleased, actually—to see this nominated for Best Picture as well this year.

Book Review: "The Means" by Douglas Brunt

Full disclosure: I received an advance readers copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an unbiased review.

Having lived in the Washington, DC area for more than 25 years, I'm still simultaneously fascinated and reviled by politics. While I've had more than my share of politicians and their rhetoric and mudslinging, I have always been a sucker for the drama of presidential campaigns, watching a herd of candidates enter and only the luckiest one survives. That certainly explains part of the appeal of Douglas Brunt's tremendously compelling new novel, The Means.

The Means follows three characters over a four-year period. Mitchell Mason, former governor of New York, was raised as the scion of a political dynasty, and has been training to be president since he was young. He has finally ascended to the highest office in the land, and although his know-it-all, sometimes-condescending style is difficult for some of his staff to handle, his ideas for governing the country often demonstrate that he is worthy of the job.

Tom Pauley is a defense attorney in North Carolina, whose pro bono work on a controversial trial thrusts him into the spotlight. His folksy, congenial style, coupled with his good looks, catches the attention of state GOP leaders, who quickly tap him to run for governor, and then set their sights even higher.

Samantha Davis is a beautiful, intelligent, driven child actress-turned-lawyer, who leaves the law to pursue a journalism career. Her beauty and smarts, as well as her on-camera skills, quickly set her star on the rise. She gets her hands on an old, unreported story that has the potential to be a gigantic bombshell in the political world, and does everything she can to pursue it, regardless of the consequences.

I found this book utterly fascinating. While those quite familiar with the political process and life on the campaign trail may find that some of the plot isn't 100 percent accurate, for someone who watches these things from a far, I felt as if I had a behind-the-scenes look at campaigning, governing, the life of an incumbent president fighting to be re-elected, the art of damage control, and the toll campaigning takes on a candidate's family. It's also a commentary on just how pervasive the media can be, and its power to shake up the political landscape.

Brunt is an excellent storyteller, and I was hooked on this book from start to finish. His three main characters were tremendously complex—your impressions of them change throughout the book, and I thought it was interesting that he demonstrated that no one person is completely good or bad. There are even a few twists that surprised me, and that doesn't happen.

If you're as fascinated by the political process, the media, and political campaigns as much as I am, definitely read The Means. And even if you're utterly disinterested in the political system, you may still find this tremendously interesting. It's a great book and I think it could make an even better movie—perhaps a less somber Ides of March.

Book Review: "You're Not Much Use to Anyone" by David Shapiro

Full disclosure: I received an advance readers copy of this book from NetGalleys in exchange for an unbiased review.

The last year of college is often fun, but the level of tension and uncertainty ratchets up for many students. There is often uncertainty—even fear—about what you're going to do with the rest of your life, where the money to support you will come from (if you aren't working while going to school), even what will become of the relationships you have. And unless you have a job lined up after college, you're often suffering from some general insecurity as well.

David Shapiro, in his autobiographical novel You're Not Much Use to Anyone, is suffering from all of those feelings. After graduating early from NYU, he doesn't know what he wants to do with his life (although his parents, who are supporting him financially, expect him to go to law school). He's a little insecure about himself physically, and his self-esteem only seems to blossom when he's in a relationship. But he's not quite willing to give himself entirely to relationships, and whenever one of his girlfriends leaves for a job opportunity or something else, he's ready to end the relationship instead of dealing with worries about her cheating on him with someone better.

David gets a job working in the file room of a large company, although it's clear to everyone he's tremendously overqualified for what he does. But it's a good way to make money of his own, and allegedly study for the LSATs. Plus, he can pacify his demanding mother and his conspiracy theory-prone father.

The one thing David is passionate about is the music review site Pitchfork. So many of the reviews he reads on the site infuriate him, and he resents the power this website has to destroy the career of up and coming bands with negative reviews, and build up a less deserving band (in David's mind) with hype and praise. So after ranting about Pitchfork to anyone who will listen, he decides to set up his own Tumblr blog in which he reviews Pitchfork reviews, called Pitchfork Reviews Reviews. Of course, he doesn't have a computer, so he types up the entries surreptitiously on his Blackberry and sends them to his roommate, who posts them on David's behalf. (But no one can no that.)

Before long, David's Tumblr blog has become quite popular, and even the media has taken interest. However, his insecurity hasn't changed, as he takes any negative comments personally. The success of his site doesn't lessen his anxiety that he might lose his job or that his parents might make him stop writing and demand he apply to law school. And it doesn't solve his romantic problems either. What's a guy to do?

You're Not Much Use to Anyone accurately captured the anxieties and insecurities of a recent college graduate, and did so with a lot of humor and emotion. Shapiro doesn't paint himself as a wholly sympathetic character—at times his inability to identify with his girlfriends' moods made it difficult to feel sorry for him when the relationships went awry. But he's definitely an amusing character, and his adventures (such as they were) made for a fun read. And now that I've finished the book, I wonder just how autobiographical this "novel" really is—were only the names changed to protect the innocent, or were some of the situations fictionalized as well? (It doesn't matter, I'm just curious.)

Celebrating all moms...

As Mother's Day approaches it's an opportunity to celebrate all those amazing women who are mothers, as well as those who play that role. Thank you for the sacrifices you make on a daily basis and the love you give us.

The May 13 cover of The New Yorker salutes the growing number of gay parents in its Mother's Day tribute, and while some may say—and have said—it's just another example of a liberal magazine upholding a liberal agenda, I think it's beautiful to recognize it takes all types of people to be mothers, whether biologically or simply through love and nurturing.

As I salute my mother, grandmothers, sister, mother-in-law, sisters-in law, and all of those among my family and friends who deserve to be recognized every day, and send strength to those who have lost their mothers, I thought I'd take this trip down memory lane, courtesy of a 1970s-era television commercial from Bell System (the telephone company back in the day). And I called, "Just because I love you, mom."

It's tough when they all look alike...

From kenneth in the (212):

As we've seen far too often, our 24-hour news cycle leads to unfortunate errors. Check out the photo that accompanies the story below.

I guess it's hard to tell Joan Collins and NBA player Jason Collins apart, huh?

It's almost as egregious as the closed captioning service used by local Fox affiliate KDFW a few weeks ago. During the manhunt for Boston bombing suspect Dzhokar Tsarnaev, the service captioned the suspect as "19-year-old Zooey Deschanel."

"Whoa! Epic closed captioning FAIL!" Deschanel tweeted when she saw the screenshot. The blunder was the fault of Caption Solution, a Kansas-based company that provides real-time closed captioning services to local TV stations. The company's president, Kala Patterson, issued an apology, as the Associated Press reported on Wednesday. Gawker says it was the work of a "rogue employee."

Anyone who thinks proofreading and fact-checking are dying skills, I believe a change is gonna come.

You think YOU'RE having a bad day at work??

The first day at a new job is always stressful. You don't know what you should be doing, you feel a little out of sorts, and no matter how excited you are about your new opportunity, it takes a while for you to get completely acclimated.

Well, let's hope you never have a first day on the job like A.J. Clemente did. He was all set to make his debut as one of the weekend anchors of the NBC affiliate in North Dakota, when something caused him to utter a few newsworthy, but inappropriate words. (Listen carefully to the start of the broadcast.) Clearly, his co-anchor heard it, as did everyone else.

Initially, the network suspended Clemente for the incident, but sadly, he's since been fired. It just goes to show you how important it is to keep your cool at all times. (And hopefully A.J. will land on his feet, and remember to treat every microphone like a live microphone!)

Using their power for such good...

I haven't watched The Amazing Race in a number of seasons, although when I heard that the team of Josh Kilmer-Purcell (who wrote one of my favorite books, I Am Not Myself These Days) and his partner, Brent Ridge, also known as The Beekman Boys (for their upstate New York farm, Beekman 1802), would be competing, I considered tuning in. Although the desire to read and decompress on Sunday evenings won out over watching television, I was so excited to learn that the duo won the race this past Sunday.

According to their blog, Beekman 1802, the team received over 8000 wishes of congratulations after their win was broadcast. But none touched them as much as a letter they received from the mother of a 12-year-old son named Colin:

"I’m sure you guys are way too busy to read this, but I want you to know how inspirational you two are to my 12 year old son. He is gay and is dealing with bullying and harassment in middle school. It’s so hard to see him going through this, and sometimes the 'It Gets Better" message is lost on a 12 year old who feels that middle school will never end...We cheered you on every Sunday night and agonized every time you had difficulties. My son was so incredibly thrilled when you two won last night (as was I!). Thank you for helping him see that not only DOES it get better, it gets AMAZING."

To help encourage Colin to understand it does get better, and he is an amazing person, the boys shared Colin's mother's note with the rest of the teams from this season of the show. Each team, or at least a representative of each, took a photo of themselves holding an encouraging message for Colin. (Below are Josh and Brent's pictures.)

Reality shows are notorious for people just looking to launch their careers or simply get famous for doing nothing, like many of those our culture seems to prize as celebrities. To me, it's so awesome to see people use whatever notoriety they've gained to make a difference, even a small one, in the life of a boy struggling with loving the person he is when others tell him not to.

You can see pictures of the rest of this season's teams here.

Thank you, Josh and Brent, for being awesome role models and remembering what it's like to struggle with who you are.

Proof that proofreading is a lost art...

Yesterday on Facebook, I shared that when watching the local news in the morning, the anchor was leading into a story about someone who has been groping women in the Fairfax, VA area. Sadly, the caption teasing the story read, "Fairfax Grouper." I certainly wasn't making light of the situation, as I know women feel unsafe, but the caption was fairly funny.

Not as funny, however, as the following headline that ran in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, which was celebrating the dedication of a memorial in that city to President John F. Kennedy, as this was where he spent the last night of his life before his November 1963 assassination.

JKF, JFK, whatever...

Where is the line?

The above cartoon was published in the October 16 issue of the Arizona Daily Wildcat, the University of Arizona's newspaper. Two days later the newspaper issued an apology, said it fired cartoonist D.C. Parsons, and said the staff is reviewing its editorial policies. And, of course, the newspaper editor was quick to do the whole "his [Parsons'] views do not represent the views of the Wildcat staff, nor does the Wildcat represent the views of the university" disclaimer.

Parsons also apologized, explaining that the cartoon "was not intended to offend." (Not sure how, but...) He said:

"It was based on an experience from my childhood. My father is a devout conservative from a previous generation, and I believe he was simply distraught from the fact that I had learned (from The Simpsons) what homosexuality was at such a young age.

"I have always used humor as a coping mechanism, much like society does when addressing social taboos. I do not condone these things; I simply don’t ignore them. I do sincerely apologize and sympathize with anyone who may be offended by my comics...but keep in mind it is only a joke, and what’s worse than a joke is a society that selectively ignores its problems."

I find this cartoon troubling, and wonder what the editors were thinking allowing it to run. But I wonder, is this a freedom of speech issue? Is there merit to allowing these views to be shared, if for no other reason than to provoke dialogue and, hopefully, to emphasize just how off-base and dangerous this type of speech is?

Is this offensive humor worthy of a cartoonist losing their job, or simply a case of a joke that fell flat? Where is the line where humor and comics are concerned?