Book Review: "The Narrow Door: A Memoir of Friendship" by Paul Lisicky

"What is it like to know a single human in time?"

In The Narrow Door, his poignant, gorgeously told memoir, novelist Paul Lisicky paints a picture of the two overarching relationships in his life—one with the late novelist Denise Gess, and one with his ex-husband, a poet he refers to as M. More snapshots from random moments in time than a fluid narrative, this is an account of how fundamentally our lives our changed by being needed and wanted, as well as being slighted and hurt.

Paul Lisicky met Denise Gess when the two were teaching assistants at Rutgers. Denise was larger than life, confident in front of a classroom or a crowd, and seemingly much more sure of her writing ability than Paul, who always felt as if he needed to throw up when teaching, and lacked the self-confidence in his own storytelling skills. The two quickly form a tight bond, borne of insecurities, a mutual love of Joni Mitchell, and the desire to succeed in the writing world.

The Narrow Door traces the path of Paul and Denise's friendship—the cherished moments and memories they shared, the secrets they kept from each other, the resentments and jealousies they tried to mask, and the way they rescued each other at times of need. Paul recounts the ways Denise changed his life, both for better and at times, for worse, and shares the pain her 2010 death from cancer caused him.

"Perhaps what we love about a friendship is that it makes us look over our shoulders, stay on our toes. We watch our words. There are never any rules to guide us, no contracts, no bloodlines, just the day after day of it. It's work, though it pretends it's painless and easy. And beneath everything: the queasy possibility that it all might end tomorrow."

This is also the story of his relationship with M, one which started as a friendship and blossomed into romance. Lisicky recounts the ways love changes us, the ways we often take its presence for granted, and how easy it is to ignore the problems and hope they go away. How do we make the difficult decision of how long to fight for love, and when to walk away?

The book jumps around from memory to memory, from the 1980s when Paul and Denise first met, to 2010, following her death and as Paul's relationship with M begins disintegrating. At times it's a little disorienting because you have to remember where the characters were at that particular point in time, but Lisicky reels you back in fairly quickly. It also tells of the things he focused on to avoid focusing on his anguish and loneliness, although I wished he didn't dwell as much on those things, but how can he change what he felt?

I wasn't familiar with Lisicky's work before finding this book, but I was really dazzled by the way he writes. If you've ever had a friendship that dominated so much of your life, and/or a relationship that held your heart for so long, perhaps The Narrow Door will resonate for you. And even if you can't identify with what Lisicky went through, the sheer poignancy of his emotional account will grip you.

Book Review: "The A to Z of You and Me" by James Hannah

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

Ivo, a man in his 40s, is nearing the end of his life at a hospice facility. He's alone—no friends, no family come to visit him—and it's clear he's very, very sad. The only people he talks to are the hospice nurses, and one in particular realizes the emotional pain he's in. To keep his mind sharp, she encourages Ivo to play the "A to Z" game—think of a body part that begins with each letter of the alphabet, and a memory that goes with it.

As Ivo reluctantly begins the game, you quickly see that there are so many causes for his sadness and his loneliness. You realize that he is a man whose situation—physical and otherwise—is both of his own making and caused by others. With each memory, you see a childhood marked by the death of his father and the strong friendships he built. You see how, like most teenage boys, he more than dabbles in alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs, even as he starts to understand the toll it's taking on his body.

You also see that at one point Ivo was truly lucky in love, finding his soulmate, yet his passivity and his disregard for himself damaged that relationship. As he moves through the alphabet the memories unfold, and you see where things could have been different if he had acted instead of being simply a participant in his own life. And although he fights the memories at first, and reels from the pain they cause, as his condition worsens he welcomes them, and wonders if it is too late to set the record straight with those still in his life.

Given its concept, The A to Z of You and Me is a sad book, although it's not maudlin. Ivo isn't merely a victim—his flashbacks clearly reveal how he treated those closest to him, how he was led astray, and how he wound up dying in his 40s, alone. But this is also a book about the way connections with others can change us, the beauty of reveling in simple joys, and how friendship can save us, in a way, if we're willing to let it.

I thought this was a well-written and compelling book, full of heart, although at times I wearied a bit of the A to Z concept. James Hannah scatters a few twists through the book although, for the most part, you know where it is going to go, and that doesn't really matter. This is definitely a book that encourages you to reach out, to say the things you should to those who matter, because you never know when you won't get another chance.

Book Review: "Orphan X" by Gregg Hurwitz

Holy freaking crap. This book absolutely rocked—every heart-racing, pulse-pounding second!

When Evan Smoak (not his real name) was young, a man rescued him from a troubled life. The man became a surrogate father to Evan, training him in every imaginable form of self-defense, weaponry, and intelligence. In short, he trained Evan how to kill, as part of an off-the-books program called the Orphan Program, which took children from difficult life situations and taught them to be employed as assassins. As far as the program was concerned, the Orphans were known only by letters—Evan became Orphan X.

Evan was one of the best assets the program had ever seen. Yet as he began to question who was hiring the Orphans to kill their targets, and why these people were selected, he realized that this wasn't the life for him.

But he needed to do something with his skills, so he became the Nowhere Man, the last resort for a person in desperate trouble. No one knows who the Nowhere Man is, but they know if they call him, he will help rescue them from a seemingly helpless situation. And all he asks in return is that the beneficiary of his services pay it forward, by passing his contact information to one person in need.

It's a fulfilling but lonely existence. He's become so good at compartmentalizing, at keeping the outside world at a safe distance, that he is utterly unprepared when complications in the form of personal connections start popping up. And then comes the ultimate test, when he realizes someone is hunting him, someone who knows he was Orphan X, and is using his work as the Nowhere Man to exploit and expose him. But suddenly all of the tricks and plans and rules he has followed don't seem to be working the way they usually do. Someone thinks the way he does, and is determined to destroy him.

Orphan X hit all of the right notes for me—fantastic action, more than a few twists, some excellent character development, and some pretty cool gadgetry. In lesser hands, Evan could have been turned into a stereotypical assassin-with-a-heart, but Gregg Hurwitz gave him a lot of complexity, which made him all the more fascinating.

If you like this type of book, pick up Orphan X. I had never heard of Gregg Hurwitz before reading this, and now, I believe, more people will know his name, because this is one that will knock you flat. (And I'm already casting the movie version in my head.)

Book Review: "Everything, Everything" by Nicola Yoon

"Just because you can't experience everything doesn't mean you shouldn't experience anything."

Nicola Yoon's Everything, Everything is a love story. But beyond the boy/girl romance in the book, it's also about parental love, and loving yourself, and the consequences that occur when we think we're doing the right things for love's sake. It's sweet, engaging, and moving, even if it's a bit predictable, and like many YA books out there these days, the characters are tremendously insightful and articulate. And did I mention it was moving? (Or maybe I have something in my eye.)

All Maddie knows is the incredibly sheltered life she's lived for as long as she can remember. Suffering from a severe immune disease, the act of simply going outside, or coming into contact with someone or something that hasn't been decontaminated, could cause her to become fatally ill. She reads, takes classes online, and spends time with her nurse and her mother, and dreams about what the outside world might be like. And she wishes something could change.

And then one day a moving van pulls in next door, revealing a new family, which includes Olly, a teenage boy about Maddie's age. He is dressed all in black—black t-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black knit cap—and the moment he looks up at Maddie's window and waves to her, she knows she's in trouble. But she's never been allowed to even make friends, so how can she hope to get to know Olly, or even more? Is love, and living beyond what you believed possible, worth risking your life for?

This was a quick, fun read. Maddie was a great character, and I really enjoyed Olly as well, and although this was Maddie's story, I wouldn't have minded getting his perspectives on things, especially about the turmoil in his own life. I suspected at one point where the plot would go, so it wasn't a surprise to me, but I enjoyed this book very much anyway. The chemistry between the two of them was really engaging, and reminiscent of a lot of other YA books I've really loved in the last few years.

Yoon tells a great story, and she livens it up with journal entries, medical records, lists, and other items. I'm not ashamed to admit the book choked me up, and while it's not quite on par with some of my favorite YA books (Eleanor & Park, All the Bright Places, The Fault in Our Stars), this has a terrific charm all its own.

Book Review: "What Belongs to You" by Garth Greenwell

Some books dazzle you with plot twists and action, yet some books can truly wow you with the power of their storytelling, their language, and their imagery. Garth Greenwell's debut novel, What Belongs to You, definitely falls into the latter category. It's stunning, emotional, lyrical, and it quietly grabs you and doesn't let go.

One unseasonably warm afternoon in October, our narrator, an American teacher living in Bulgaria, goes to a restroom in Sofia's National Palace of Culture. This is a restroom where men go to have sexual encounters, and he is aware of this, but meeting Mitko, a young hustler, takes him by surprise. He pays Mitko for sex, and finds himself immensely drawn to him, so he returns to that restroom over and over. And although he knows inherently that Mitko is going through the motions with him as he probably does with his other "friends," he still hopes that he might find his way into Mitko's heart.

"...how helpless desire is outside its little theater of heat, how ridiculous it becomes the moment it isn't welcomed, even if that welcome is contrived."

He comes to terms with the fact that while Mitko may enjoy their encounters, ultimately Mitko sees him as a source for money, and there is a fine line between knowing you're being used and fearing you may be harmed as a result. As he tries to decide what to do with Mitko, an urgent message forces him to confront his own childhood, and the mistreatment and veiled disgust with which he was treated once he accepted his sexuality. He also tries to decipher the patterns in his behavior that has led him to the same situations time and time again.

"...always I feel an ambivalence that spurs me first in one direction and then another, a habit that has done much damage."

What Belongs to You is a novel about desire, and the desire to be wanted. It's about the struggle between following your heart and your libido instead of your head, and both the consequences and triumphs that come from doing so. It's also about how the hardest thing to do is reconcile your own issues with self-esteem, and finally realize only you can be responsible for your happiness and satisfaction.

Greenwell's talent is evident from the very first lines of this book, and his poetic use of language and storytelling ability sustains through the book's entirety. I truly cared about the narrator and worried what would become of him, hoping against hope that Greenwell wouldn't abandon the purity of his story for the sensational, and was so pleased he didn't. This is a beautiful, magnificent, deeply felt book, and I felt privileged to read it. I can't wait to see where Greenwell's career takes him—I know I'll be following.

Book Review: "When I'm Gone" by Emily Bleeker

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

How well do we really know the people we love, those we've built a life with?

If you ask Luke that question about his wife, Natalie, he'd say he knows her better than everyone. They dated in high school before he had to move away, and once they found each other again in college, they seemed destined to be together. And together they've built a family, with three wonderful, loving children.

But when Natalie dies of cancer, it throws Luke for a total loop. He doesn't know how he'll cope, how he'll be able to raise the children without her. And when they return from Natalie's funeral, he finds a letter on the floor of the entry foyer, delivered through the mail slot. It has no postmark, and it's in Natalie's handwriting.

Dear Luke,
First let me say—I love you…I didn’t want to leave you…

The first letter was written on the first day Natalie's cancer treatment began. And then additional letters show up, with varied frequency—sometimes daily, sometimes a few days or even a week passes before the next one arrives. The letters give Luke advice on how to handle the children, what to do for them and for himself, and give him insight into how Natalie was feeling, physically and emotionally. He doesn't realize just how much he comes to depend on the letters, even as Natalie forces him outside his comfort zone, to do things he never would have expected he'd be able to do.

But the more he reads them, the more the questions start to arise. Who was the "Dr. Neal" she keeps referring to in her letters, and what was their relationship? Why did she have an envelope for an organization that facilitated adoptions, and why is there a picture of Natalie and her high school boyfriend at the organization's headquarters? Were there other things she kept hidden from him all this time?

When I'm Gone is the story of a man who has led a difficult, turbulent life but finally finds a haven, only to discover that the haven is not quite what he imagined. And as he tries to process what might be crucial secrets Natalie kept hidden, he also must keep his children surviving and thriving, deal with a disapproving mother-in-law, and the stress of the strange relationship of Natalie's best friend and her policeman husband. For a man raised in the midst of anger and chaos, this may be more than he can take.

I enjoyed this book but it was a different story than I expected, although that didn't disappoint me. Luke is an interesting, complex character, and you really felt the emotional turmoil he was experiencing, the conflicts between wanting to wallow in his own grief and be present for his children. I just felt as if Emily Bleeker tried to pack in so many different twists and turns, so many different crises, that the book became a little too melodramatic for its own good. I think it could have flourished with perhaps a little less drama, because the core of the story was just so good.

I really enjoyed Bleeker's first book, Wreckage, and this one reinforces that she has strong storytelling ability. It raises some interesting questions, and may even choke you up a little. I could totally see it as a made-for-television movie, and that's not a bad thing.

Book Review: "Goodnight, Beautiful Women" by Anna Noyes

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

It's amazing how much power a short story can have, how much emotion and plot and imagery and detail can be packed into a finite number of pages. It's one of the things I love so much about short stories—while, obviously, I love reading novels, and have been absolutely dazzled and bowled over by many books I've read, I've had similar reactions to short stories as well. It's so gratifying to see the short form is still so popular, and that there are so many incredibly talented writers out there doing wonders with short stories.

Add Anna Noyes to that list. Goodnight, Beautiful Women, Noyes' soon-to-be-published collection of stories, contains some absolute stunners. As you might imagine, each of the 11 stories are about a woman (or women) or girl experiencing anguish, crisis, or uncertainty (sometimes more than one). How they choose to confront these turning points—or avoid them—provides moments of turmoil, transformation, or, in some cases, great strength.

While not every story in the collection worked for me, most of these stories moved and amazed me. Some of my favorites included: "Hibernation," in which a woman struggles with the emotional breakdown and apparent suicide of her troubled husband; "Safe as Houses," which followed a teenage girl on the cusp of womanhood as a sexual assault happens nearby her home; "This Is Who She Was," a story about the brief yet impactful relationship between a young woman and her boyfriend's mother; "Werewolf," in which a woman wracked with guilt about a lie she told as a child does penance by spending each weekend with her intellectually challenged cousin; and the title story, which follows a young woman on a road trip with her mother and stepfather, when she is surprised by a revelation from her mother.

These stories are at times funny, sad, thought-provoking, troubling, even sexy. Noyes has a true gift with language and imagery, and she really gets you invested in her characters within a few short pages. I love finding new, talented short story writers, and I look forward to seeing what is next in Noyes' career. She's definitely a writer I expect to hear more from in the future.