Book Review: "Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend" by Matthew Dicks

Budo is an imaginary friend. The boy who imagined him, eight-year-old Max Delaney, had a vivid imagination, so Budo looks much more real than most imaginary friends. He can pass through doors, and travel anywhere he wants to go, but he doesn't ever sleep, and he can't pick things up, because Max didn't imagine Budo doing those things.

"I live in a strange place in the world," Budo says. "I live in the space in between people. I spend most of my time in the kid world with Max, but I also spend a lot of time with adults like Max's parents and teachers...except they can't see me."

Max has Asperger's Syndrome, and while his mother wants to send him to therapists and doctors to help him get better, his father believes Max is just a late bloomer who will change when he's ready, as long as he's treated like every other child. Max likes his routine, he likes his toys, he loves his teacher, Mrs. Gosk, and storytime, and he hates change. Change makes him "stuck."

Budo wants to protect Max as best as any imaginary friend can; he helps Max with his schoolwork and tries to help him navigate the bullies at school who want to hurt Max, like fifth-grader Tommy Swinden. More than anything, Budo wants Max to always need and believe in him, because Budo has seen what happens to other imaginary friends when their real friends stop believing in them—they stop existing.

When Mrs. Patterson, the woman (not a teacher) who sometimes helps Max at the Learning Center at school, kidnaps Max because she believes she could do a better job raising him, Budo doesn't know how to help. How can he save Max when he can't be heard by humans, or move things? He enlists the help of other imaginary friends to try and save Max, but he realizes that in order to save Max he might have to risk his own existence.

So many times reading this book, I couldn't believe Matthew Dicks' creativity. This is a book narrated entirely by a child's imaginary friend. The world that Dicks has created is so unique and well-developed, and while I didn't have an imaginary friend growing up, I almost would like one know if he could be like Budo. While he understands the world around him a little better than Max does, he still has a somewhat limited base of knowledge. His narrative voice is both wise and child-like, and it made the book so tremendously enjoyable and poignant.

I was a little skeptical when I heard about the concept of this book, but I was hooked from the very first page. These characters are wonderful ones you'll want to take into your heart, and although you probably will have an idea of how the story will resolve, the way it unfolds is just wonderful. This is a great book even if you're not a kid at heart, but if you are, I hope you love it as much as I did.

Wait, don't throw out your ticket just yet...

Yeah, we lost last night, too. So much for opening a restaurant or buying a villa wherever it is people have villas...

Before you throw out your losing Powerball ticket or cash it in for the $4 or whatever you might have won (and if so, congratulations), here are some tips on how exactly to read that ticket, courtesy of someecards:

The truth about shampoo purchases?

As usual, I'm an outlier. But that should be a surprise to no one.

I have far too many shampoos in my shower, although I'm not as particular about what they smell like. I have my good luck shampoo, which I use on important days (don't judge), I have my clarifying shampoo, and just a whole lot of others. I like options.

Book Review: "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Hannah Moskowitz

Wow, Hannah Moskowitz, you just knocked me for an emotional loop with this one.

It's October 2002. Just as the Washington, DC area is beginning to recover from the 9/11 terrorist attacks the previous year, random people start getting shot and killed by the Beltway Snipers. As I remember all to well, people run to and from their cars, crouch down when putting gas in their cars, and parents fear for the safety of their children while at school. This is the backdrop for the burgeoning relationship between high school students Craig and Lio.

Both boys are emotionally fragile in their own ways. Craig is so hurt by his breakup with ex-boyfriend Cody that he has adopted a large menagerie of stray animals, which he feels he can relate to better than humans. When a break-in at his house allows all the animals to escape, Craig is focused on finding all of his pets and is determined not to let the fear of the snipers interfere with this task.

Lio, who moved from New York following 9/11 and his parents' separation, is dealing with the guilt of surviving childhood leukemia while his twin brother did not. The terror being inflicted by the snipers has truly shaken him, and while he doesn't want to let his guard down by falling for Craig, he cannot help himself. Craig is afraid to care for someone else and becomes afraid he could lose Lio, so he cannot help but to push him away.

Gone, Gone, Gone is a beautifully tender and sincere story of friendship that turns to romance, but that romance is wracked by fear, doubt, and emotional uncertainty. Hannah Moskowitz so perfectly captured the angst of young love, feeling like all you want to do is be with a person, yet so many issues keep getting in the way. All of the characters are drawn so vividly, I could almost picture the story unfolding in my head.

Reading this book made me wish that things were different when I was this age, in terms of being more accepting of your sexuality. But at the same time, I'm so happy that we live in a society where, in general, this story could be a true one, and the fact that these boys are gay is an afterthought. I also once again find myself marveling at the amazing talent in the YA genre right now, that we've moved so far beyond the books that existed when I was younger.

I'm not sure where I heard of this book—I'm fairly certain it was a recommendation from one of two amazing YA authors I've read this year—but I feel so lucky to have found it. Thank you, Hannah Moskowitz, for making me feel hopeful, happy, and sad simultaneously. This is a keeper.

"Don't Give Up...Don't Ever Give Up!"

It's Jimmy V Week on ESPN, dedicated to the memory and inspiration of the late college basketball coach Jim Valvano, who led North Carolina State to an amazing last-second victory in the 1983 NCAA Tournament. He was well-known for running up and down the court following NC State's win, looking for someone to hug.

Valvano died of cancer in 1993, shortly after starting The V Foundation for Cancer Research, which ESPN has embraced as its leading charity over the years, and it recently committed a $1 million donation.

Jim Valvano was a man of great courage and strength, and perhaps he is best known for the emotional and inspirational speech he delivered at the 1993 ESPY Awards, when he was presented with the Arthur Ashe Courage and Humanitarian Award. I saw it again on ESPN last night and, as always, it made me cry, it made me think, and it made me grateful.

"To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special."

He closed his speech with the words,

"Cancer can take away all of my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart, and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever. I thank you and God bless you all."

As I think about Valvano's words, I think of all the people that have been lost to cancer in my life, those struggling with the disease right now, those fortunate enough to survive their fight and live to teach others, and all of those whose lives have been touched by this disease. Following Jimmy V's example is never easy, especially in times of struggle, but I promise you, it can be done.

If you are looking for a good cry, here's his speech. I send my strength and prayers and hope to those currently struggling with this disease, and send my love to those who are worried, who are grieving, and those we've lost.

Book Review: "Die a Stranger" by Steve Hamilton

While reading Steve Hamilton's ninth mystery featuring Michigan ex-cop Alex McKnight, all I kept thinking was, "Why isn't Steve Hamilton more of a household name?" Having read every one of his books, I always walk away immensely satisfied by the depth of his characters, the complexity with which he imbues every plotline, and the emotions he touches on. That's a rare feat.

Alex McKnight lives in the small Upper Peninsula town of Paradise. Constantly living with the reminder of being shot as a policeman while his partner was killed (Alex has a bullet lodged just near his heart), he is a fiercely loyal friend and unsuccessful former private investigator who can't seem to stay out of trouble, or trouble just seems to find him.

Vinnie LeBlanc is one of Alex's closest friends. Maybe even his best friend. The two have gotten into some scrapes before, but both have saved each other from danger in the past. When Vinnie mysteriously disappears the night after his mother dies, Alex knows this isn't just grief-related sadness or the need to get away; he knows Vinnie is in trouble. And despite the entreaties of law enforcement and the distrust of Vinnie's own family and reservation numbers, Alex is determined to find Vinnie and help him.

With the help of someone from Vinnie's past, Alex discovers his disappearance is tied to an incident at an isolated airport that left five people dead. But the dangers they uncover—and the ramifications of their actions—leave Alex, Vinnie, and everyone they know in harm's way, and there aren't many solutions left.

What I loved about this book, as I do all of Steve Hamilton's books, is the perfect balance between action, suspense, and introspection. It's not all car chases, gunplay and fistfights, nor is it all brooding and reflection. Alex McKnight is a fantastic character I've really come to enjoy over the years, and I feel that way about the other recurring characters in this series—Vinnie, Jackie, even Chief Maven. I really think the series would make an excellent television show, because I'd want to spend more time with it than simply seeing a movie every now and again.

If you like this genre, pick up a Steve Hamilton book. Any one in the series would do, as would his two other stand-alone novels. And maybe you'll help me in my quest to make him the household name he deserves to be.

Cool cover song of the week...

This week's cover song is the Indigo Girls' 1993 cover of I Don't Want to Talk About It, which they recorded for the soundtrack to Philadelphia. I'm a huge fan of this song, and this version in particular, but then again, I think the Indigo Girls can do no wrong. (Don't you?)

As an aside, when this version of the song was released, my friend Gayle and I would sing it in the car constantly, even matching Amy and Emily's harmonies. What can I say?

While Rod Stewart's version of the song seems to be the most ubiquitous, I learned that the song was written by Danny Whitten, whose band, Crazy Horse, first released it in 1971. And since then, the song has been covered by a diverse group of artists including Rita Coolidge, Everything But the Girl, and even UK X-Factor winner Joe McElderry. (The things you learn from Wikipedia...)

Take a listen and let me know what you think. Previous cover songs can be found here, here, and here.