Book Review: "Still Life with Bread Crumbs" by Anna Quindlen

Lovely. That's the word that kept coming to my mind as I read Anna Quindlen's latest novel, Still Life with Bread Crumbs. It was just a lovely book, emotional, thought provoking, and really enjoyable.

Rebecca Winter used to be something. A once-revered photographer whose iconic works were viewed as feminist statements, her photographs aren't selling well anymore, her agent is becoming increasingly more hostile toward her, and her bank balance keeps declining. At 60 years old, when she receives a notable prize for her body of work, she realizes what this recognition means.

"To Rebecca, it was now official: she was done. Yesterday's news. In your heyday, you got attention; in your senescence, prizes."

She flees her posh New York City apartment to live for a year in a cottage in the country, hoping the rent from the apartment will help abate some of her financial woes, and the change in setting will inspire her to create again. Yet things are seldom what they seem: the cottage is much more rundown and isolated than she imagined, and the charming town she envisions is a little more smothering than she thought it might be. But when a raccoon invades her attic, she meets roofer Jim Bates, and the two strike up a casual friendship that teaches Rebecca that what she sees through her camera lens isn't always what is real.

As Rebecca struggles with doubt in her professional abilities, worries about her financial situation, grapples with the decline of her elderly parents, and ponders the dissolution of her marriage to a man who traded in for a younger woman every 10 years, she begins to feel herself warming to the cottage and the small town. Her daily hikes lead her to photograph everything she sees, and when she encounters a series of homemade wooden crosses in the forest, they inspire a vein of creativity she thought had tried up. But she has no idea what these crosses mean, why they're scattered haphazardly through the woods and accompanied by everyday objects, and their connection to someone in town.

This is an emotionally rich and compelling story about believing in yourself again, trusting your talents and having faith in your own worth. It's also about believing you deserve a second—and even a third—chance at happiness, and how the things we don't say are often the most powerful statements we make. I really enjoyed this book very, very much, and found myself devouring it very quickly.

It has been a while since I've read a book by Anna Quindlen, but after reading Still Life with Bread Crumbs, I was reminded just how much I love her writing, and how good books can make you feel.

Book Review: "Road to Reckoning" by Robert Lautner

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

"I, to this day, hold to only one truth: if a man chooses to carry a gun he will get shot. My father agreed to carry twelve."

Thomas Walker is 12 years in 1837. An only child, he has lived a sheltered life, never leaving New York City, and following the death of his mother, he is homeschooled by his aunt and doesn't get the opportunity to interact with children his age. But when his mild-mannered, spectacles-selling father takes a traveling salesman job for Samuel Colt, selling his revolutionary new "Improved Revolving Gun," he decides to take Thomas on the road with him, much to his aunt's chagrin—and Thomas' delight.

"Even at twelve I knew that I would have no limit of things to do out beyond the mountains. My own thoughts of danger were less important than having the opportunity to be away from my aunt's lavender chiffon and her yardstick rule, which I never saw measure anything except how much blame my knuckles could take."

Not long after Thomas' father made his first sale, a run-in with a group of robbers turns their travel adventure to tragedy. Orphaned and alone, with no money and few possessions save a wooden model of the Colt revolver, he can think only of getting back home to New York and the comfort and security of his only living relative, his aunt. He then encounters Henry Stands, a cantankerous, larger-than-life former Indiana Ranger, who has little use for people except when they can provide him food, ammunition, and rum.

Stands, on his way to a Philadelphia prison to see if they need help tracking down escaped prisoners, is reluctantly pressed into helping Thomas find his way home. He cares little for coddling the boy, and wants only to leave him in the first town they come across. Thomas, though intimidated by Stands' surliness, finds security in his not-quite-fatherly presence, and fears that he will abandon him on the road. The two forge a strange alliance, one that grows a bit stronger after the two encounter the band of robbers who killed Thomas' father. Yet Stands isn't completely enamored of being the boy's protector, and Thomas wants desperately for Stands to treat him less as an obligation and more as a child.

As the pair make their way back to New York, their partnership—and their lives—are tested several times. Both realize there is more to their traveling partner than meets the eye, and while they have different desires for the resolution of their journey, it is a journey that shapes them both.

I really enjoyed this book a great deal. I thought Robert Lautner perfectly embodied the voice of a 12-year-old boy caught between bravado and vulnerability, and Thomas as narrator was tremendously effective. The book surprised me at times and was more than simply a story about an unlikely pair on an important journey—it was also a commentary on how the Colt revolver, and guns in general, shaped America in the mid-19th century and beyond. The characters were more complex than met the eye, and Lautner knows how to tell a good story.

Some of the blurbs I've seen about Road to Reckoning equate it with True Grit, and while there may be some similarities between the two, I think the comparison actually sells this book a bit short. Henry Stands is more Lonesome Dove's Gus than Rooster Cogburn, and Thomas is a more vulnerable character than Mattie Ross, but no less appealing. This is a different story about a different kind of partnership, and it is a compelling and entertaining one.

"When I first met Henry Stands I imagined he was a man of few friends. When I last knew of him I was sure he had even fewer. But, it could be said, just as true, that he had fewer enemies because of it. And as I get older I can see the wisdom of that."

Book Review: "The Gospel of Winter" by Brendan Kiely

Wow. This is a powerful, emotionally moving, and fantastic book.

Sixteen-year-old Aidan Donovan has always existed on the fringes of things. A loner more content to snort Adderall and read by himself, as his wealthy parents' marriage disintegrates, he's more comfortable with Elena, their housekeeper, than his parents or friends his own age. He doesn't have any patience for the dishonesty or non-genuineness of the community where he lives.

"Nobody ever said I don't know or I'm afraid, and they acted like the masks they wore were their real faces and that they could sustain themselves forever on their own self-assurance—like they really believed they didn't need anybody else. What was that John Donne poem we read in Weinstein's class, 'No Man Is An Island'? Not here. We were a goddamn social archipelago that called itself a community. Why did I feel like I was the only one who lived in a nightmare? What was worse was that I knew people did have fears."

The only place Aidan truly feels comfortable is at his church, Most Precious Blood, as Father Greg, the local priest, is the only person who seems to care about or listen to him. As he starts making friends with a trio of his classmates—Josie, the charismatic girl on whom he's had a crush for some time; Sophie, the wild but friendly girl with a reputation; and Mark, the swim team captain with issues of his own which mirror Aidan's in more ways than he knows—Aidan starts to feel a little more comfortable in his own skin.

As Aidan balances the comfort of his new friends with his discomfort about his home life, he starts to realize that Father Greg's affections are not just directed at him alone, and while he mourns the feeling that he is no longer special, he also grapples with the reality of what the priest has done. What does that make him? Would telling people, admitting what has happened, make those in his community blame and think less of him, as the priests have led him to believe? Can he just pretend that nothing happened?

Aidan's community—and the nation—begin confronting the revelations about sexual abuse by priests, and people want to know if Aidan was affected, what he knew, but he'd rather ignore the whole thing, despite the toll it takes on his own psyche and those around him. Only as he realizes the true consequences, and what could lie ahead for him depending on the path he chooses, does he realize that there are other people who care about and love him.

"I thought about how people like Old Donovan and Father Greg and teachers and even Mother and Elena tried to give me advice about who I was supposed to be and what kind of person I was supposed to become, but looking at Josie, I wondered if it didn't all come down to something simpler: Are you the kind of person who is there for people when they need you, or not? Isn't it in those moments when you have to work harder than you thought you could to reach out to another person, and you do, that you finally find the you who's been hiding behind the mask all that time? Is it there, finally truly naked, and reaching for one another, that we create the chance to hold one another again? And what about the chance to love again? Do we get to create that possibility too?"

This was a phenomenal book. Its subject matter was difficult, but Brendan Kiely's use of language and his storytelling ability captivated me completely. I loved Aidan's character and felt so much pain and hope for him. I could definitely identify with some of his thoughts and fears and hopes, as I remember feeling similarly as a teenager. I devoured this book, reading nearly the entire thing in one day. It was just such a beautiful, powerful, painful yet hopeful story, and I hope this gets the attention—and the readership—it so truly deserves.

Book Review: "Foreign Gods, Inc." by Okey Ndibe

Don't mess with the deities, for you know not what they'll do.

Ikechukwu "Ike" Uzondu is a Nigerian taxi driver in Brooklyn. He's having a tough time of it. Educated at Amherst College, intelligent and ambitious, he is determined to make a better life for himself, but he is unable to get a job because his accent is so thick. Instead of marrying for love, he married for the possibility of a green card, yet wound up with a shrewish wife, who constantly demanded money, accused him of having affairs, cheated on him, and divorced him, taking much of his savings.

But now the rent is due, his gambling debts have him strapped for money, and the emails from his sister and mother back in Nigeria begging for money are becoming increasingly more strident and demanding. Inspired by an article about Foreign Gods, Inc.—a tony New York gallery that specializes in the purchase and sale of deities from foreign countries, Ike decides his best hope for fortune and comfort is to return home to Nigeria and steal Ngene, his ancestral village's war idol. After all, as he has read, "In a postmodern world, even gods and sacred objects must travel or lose their vitality; any deity that remained stuck in its place and original purpose would soon become moribund."

Ike's return home to his village is not as smooth as he had hoped. He nearly gets arrested several times in the airport because he refuses to give customs officials and others the bribes they expect. His mother and sister have fallen under the influence of a corrupt, maniacal Christian preacher, who has captivated many in his village with promises of salvation and talk of the devil. And his mother is at war with Ike's uncle and grandmother, as she has been led to believe by the preacher that they were responsible for Ike's father's death because they worship Ngene, not Jesus.

Foreign Gods, Inc. is in part a meditation on what it's like to be an immigrant in the U.S., and part a reflection on what it's like to return home to a country and a culture you tried so hard to leave behind. At times the book is satirical, as it pokes fun at the mangled English the characters use ("Now I have to be a fantastic hostage by tabulating a drink in front of you," one of Ike's friends says) and their fascination and disbelief at American ways. Toward the end of the book, it turns metaphorical, as Ike begins to experience—or is he simply imagining—the consequences of stealing Ngene away from the village.

Okey Ndibe tells an amusing and intriguing story which may have more roots in truth than I'd imagine. It ran a little slow in places, but Ike's character is fascinating, and his plight made for a compelling read.

Eagerly anticipating the sobbing...

2014 is only just about a month down, but there are already a number of movies I'm eagerly anticipating this year. While the adaptation of Mark Helprin's amazing Winter's Tale is due out soon (and looks good, despite the fact that Russell Crowe's presence is giving me Javert flashbacks), and the first half of Mockingjay (the final installment of The Hunger Games trilogy) will hit theaters toward the end of 2014, there's probably no movie I'm anticipating as eagerly as The Fault in Our Stars.

If you've been following my blog for a while, you may recall that John Green's The Fault in Our Stars was probably the best book I read in 2012. The book hooked me so hard I stayed up until nearly 2:00 a.m. finishing it, and then hating myself for reading it so quickly. Plus it was so emotionally gripping, I was sobbing on my couch in the middle of the night.

Shailene Woodley (The Descendants, The Spectacular Now and the upcoming Divergent) and Ansel Elgort (Carrie) star as Hazel Grace Lancaster and Augustus "Gus" Waters, teenagers who meet in a support group for kids with cancer. Gus is in remission from the osteosarcoma that took one of his legs a few years ago, and thanks to a miracle drug trial, the tumors in Hazel's lungs aren't continuing to grow, although she knows that's just a matter of time. The two are snarky, sarcastic, sensitive, and wise beyond their years, and begin an intense friendship that brings them both joy.

The first trailer for the movie came out today. I'm not embarrassed to say I've watched it about five times already. (Some of my colleagues are hooked, too, so I'm not alone in this obsession.) Maybe you won't understand what my excitement is about, but watch the trailer and you might. The movie opens in June, and I'm already prepared to sob.

Book Review: "What I Had Before I Had You" by Sarah Cornwell

Sarah Cornwell's What I Had Before I Had You is a beautiful, poignant, and exquisitely written novel about the ripple effects mental illness causes on a family.

Olivia Reed was raised by her dynamic and manic mother, Myla, a practicing psychic, in the Jersey Shore town of Ocean Vista. Fiercely protective of Olivia one minute, and disappearing to leave her home alone for days on end the next, Myla taught her daughter to believe in the powers of the universe. She also taught Olivia to believe in the ghosts of her twin baby sisters, who died before Olivia was born. Myla kept the nursery a shrine to these babies that never lived, even going so far as keeping baby food and diapers in the house, and leaving food on their highchairs.

The summer that Olivia turned 15, she saw her sisters for the first time, as teenagers, and believed that this sighting signified she was coming into her own powers, much like her mother. But when Myla disputes this vision, Olivia is motivated for the first time to challenge her mother's constraints and begin living a carefree life, determined to find out the truth of her sisters. This journey of discovery teaches Olivia about friendship, love, and loss, but also uncovers some truths she never expected, truths which lead to an irreparable rift in her family and change the course of her life.

"I left my mother here when she was sick and sad and alone. When I was fifteen, someone lowered a rope into my well, and I climbed it and pulled it up after me. I like to think that if my mother had waited two or three more years than she did, I would have grown up enough to come home to her. But I can't be sure."

Years later, Olivia returns to Ocean Vista with her own teenage daughter, Carrie, and her nine-year-old son, Daniel, who has recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, which served as the catalyst for the end of her marriage. Her return to her hometown sparks memories of that tumultuous summer, of how her life changed, and of the guilt she feels about her relationship with her mother. When Daniel suddenly disappears, the search for him forces her to examine the course her life has taken and how mental illness has shaped it, and the role her mother has played all along.

What I Had Before I Had You shifts back and forth between the present and that summer of 1987. It's a moving, emotional book that captures all too well the highs and lows, the challenges and surprises that mental illness brings to a family, and how even years later these issues still surface and shape the course of people's lives. It's also the story of the fragility of human relationships, the lies we tell each other and ourselves, and the randomness of memory.

"I've heard that each time you remember something, the memory is rewritten by the neurons in your brain; that the memories you summon frequently are molded and smoothed—clay on the potter's wheel of your mind—while memories you leave buried can bubble up with photographic precision."

Sarah Cornwell is a tremendously talented writer. Her use of language was almost lyrical, as you can see by just a few of the passages I chose to incorporate into this review. While I had a little trouble at the start trying to figure out what the whole ghost idea was about, I was quickly hooked on the book, and as with so many books I love, was torn between wanting to devour it in one or two sittings, or wanting to savor it. (I chose the former, and don't regret it.) I look forward to seeing what's next in Cornwell's career, because this book shows that she has exceptional talent and promise.

Book Review: "Before We Met" by Lucie Whitehouse

A number of times while I was reading Lucie Whitehouse's new novel, Before We Met, I thought to myself, this is kind of like one of those flicks on Lifetime Movie Network. You know the ones I'm talking about. But believe me when I tell you, that description isn't a bad thing, because this book hooked me completely from start to finish, even as I had an idea about how things would unfold.

On what seems like just a typical Friday night, Hannah Reilly decides to surprise her husband Mark by meeting him at London's Heathrow Airport, where he's scheduled to arrive on a flight from New York. This is familiar territory, as Mark's company used to have New York and London offices. But once everyone from his flight makes it through customs, Mark isn't among the crowd. Hannah is concerned, but can't seem to reach Mark—his cellphone goes right to voice mail. Did he miss his flight? Did something happen?

The next day, she gets a phone call from a tremendously apologetic Mark, who explains the reasons he was detained and unable to call. But that is after she finds out from one of his colleagues that he said he was taking Hannah to Rome this weekend. And why isn't Mark at the hotel he usually stays at while he's in New York, and why hasn't he given her a number to reach him at?

Although Mark promises to return on Tuesday, Hannah is becoming more suspicious, although she swore she'd never be the type of woman who spied on her husband and pried in his business, after she saw what her mother's similar actions did to her parents' marriage. But the more she looks into things to find answers, she finds only more questions. How much does she actually know her husband? Who is the woman he's apparently been talking to on the phone behind closed doors? Is Mark in some kind of trouble with his business?

Lucie Whitehouse ratchets up the suspense incrementally, to the point where you're not quite sure what to believe either. While this book veers into territory we've seen numerous times before, it's a credit to Whitehouse's storytelling ability that you can't stop reading, you can't stop wondering just where things will go. Are there valid excuses for what Hannah finds out? Has Mark been trying to protect her, or simply himself?

This was a quick read for me, and one that completely satisfied me. It doesn't matter that there weren't many surprises—even as you see things coming and you know what questions Hannah should be asking, you want to find out where the story will go. That's the mark (no pun intended) of a pretty great read.