The Art of Good Conversation

"I don't read a book; I hold a conversation with the author." – Elbert Hubbard

Man, I am having some really good conversations lately. And I’m having them with new authors. I met Jane Yang thanks to Heather Morris (think The Tattooist of Auschwitz). Her praise for Yang’s debut novel caught my eye—of Lotus Shoes she said, “Brilliantly written, masterful storytelling, and hard to put down.” You had me at brilliantly written, Heather.

Lotus Shoes has all the elements of a good book, including a strong opening, compelling characters, sharp dialogue, and an absorbing story. I’m a tad surprised by how engrossing 1800s China was. Can I say that? I knew about the Chinese practice of foot binding—I didn’t realize that “golden lilies” were not only the mark of an elegant lady, but often a determinant where marriage was concerned. Marriage could offer a little freedom to women within a subjugated female culture. Or a prison. Little Flower, the star of Lotus Shoes, is a lot like an Austenian character: progressive. She is, in fact, gifted. Little Flower is an undeniable foil to her mistress, Linjing. This is “an empowering, uplifting tale of two women from opposite sides of society, and their extraordinary journey of sisterhood, betrayal, love and triumph.” If you’re a fan of historical fiction, this one’s worth a read. Let me sign off by saying thanks, Jane. I really enjoyed our chat.

Posted by Tracy

Yammer Sessions: Part One

“Stories you read when you're the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you'll forget precisely what happened, but if a story touches you it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind that you rarely ever visit.” ― Neil Gaiman

Amen, NG! (I love that I continually see eye to eye with a man whose nickname is Scary Trousers.) I just finished a book that had staying power. In fact, after closing the cover of Wild Dark Shore, I woke up the morning after thinking about it. And it just so happens that when I got my hair cut last night, both my girl Devron and her amazing friend Ally had read Charlotte McConaghy’s latest. Boy did we have a yammer sesh about this new atmospheric novel. 

I’m new to McConaghy. Apparently, her books are “highly readable, with a skillful mix of plot and character, thought-provoking scientific and ethical problems, and a palpable sense of place that generates a sense of wonder. Wild Dark Shore’s setting is a foreboding island. Inspired by Macquarie Island (located between New Zealand and Antarctica), Shearwater is home to royal penguins, albatrosses, seals and a damaged family who’s charged with caring for a seed vault after a group of researchers flee the island because of rapidly advancing sea levels. During the final 6 months that they’re tasked with supervision and survival, a near-dead body washes up on shore after a ferocious storm. Mystery washes in with her. Not surprisingly, the Salt family (although broken) heals her and vice versa.

Wild Dark Shore has secrets, twists, intrigue—all the good stuff. Devron gave this spellbinder 4.5 stars, while Ally (the idealist) offered up 4 stars. In lieu of stars, I’ll make a promise: odds are Shearwater will immerse you too.

Posted by Tracy

A Big Novel Doing Big Things

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, the man who never reads lives only one."  —George R.R. Martin

I’ve never been a math girl, but I hope to skyrocket past a thousand lives. I think Rae’s already there. (She dusted off a few good reads in the womb.) LitHub, of all people, has done some math for me. Accounting for different types of readers and life expectancy rates based on gender, here are some sobering stats surrounding potential numbers of books I’ll get to read before I die: 

55 and female: 86 (31 years left)
Average reader: 372
Voracious reader: 1,550
Super reader: 2,480

Think about these numbers for a minute. They’re downright scary. I can’t wrap my noggin around the idea of meeting fewer than 400 more protagonists. Friends really. Of course, fear isn’t rational. I read well beyond the average 12 books a year. I revel in living colorful, unique, sometimes eye-opening and inspirational lives. No surprise there.

I’m elated to have lived for a time in the small town of Everton, New Hampshire. The Starlings are an unforgettable bunch. At the family’s helm is Clive—an eccentric poetry professor who plays in a band called Blacker Sabbath, hallucinates by way of seeing animals, and talks to the ghost of a naturalist patterned after Doctor Doolittle. Clive is dying. He has a terminal brain disease. His daughter Emma, born with natural healing powers, pretends to attend medical school in far away California. The prodigal daughter returns to Everton to face not only her dad’s deteriorating condition but town judgements because her ambitious life plan has gone awry. She and her quirky, dementia ridden, sometimes embarrassing father join forces to find Emma’s best friend (turned Heroin addict) who goes missing and is believed by all to be dead. Well not exactly “all”—residents of the Maple Street Cemetery who are optimistically sunny despite being dead, they believe in Clive and Emma’s rescue mission.

Annie Hartnett is clever. I love that she chose Everton’s dead to narrate her novel. Unlikely Animals is classified as tragicomic—a book that blends aspects of both tragic and comic forms—a narrative that explores heartbreaking aspects of life alongside lighthearted and laughter-inducing moments. I laughed out loud several times. I’m with the reviewer who said, “This is a big novel doing big things….[Hartnett] explores how we construct the miraculous after our promise has left us, and challenges us to dream through disillusionment even as suffering derails us.” Now that’s a lesson for the ages, definitely one I need to learn.

P.S. I will, without a doubt, be reading Hartnett’s first novel Rabbit Cake.

Posted by Tracy

The Stars Are Calling

“April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.”  —Shakespeare

Except for me, oh Bard of Avon. April hath put a spirit of fatigue in this old girl’s bones. Yes, there’s far too much work. But I think the lethargy has as much to do with the fact that it’s been five years this month since my sweet momma passed away. Missing her never wanes. Thankfully, Lady Di equipped me with so many good memories. All these years later, a goofy grin crosses my face whenever I think of my mom saying, “Some authors only have one winner in them.” More often than not, she was referring to Harper Lee—the Southern genius who funneled all of her glitter and gold into one solitary brilliant and timeless classic. I mean, how do you top To Kill A Mockingbird? Ranked just behind the Bible in 2009 as “the most inspirational book of all time,” Harper Lee knocked it out of the park into the literary stratosphere.

Do not think for one minute that I believe Harper Lee couldn’t craft other winners. After all, she helped Truman Capote write In Cold Blood, the first true crime novel. The question is how do you write a second novel that also rockets out of the earth’s atmosphere? I say we ask Georgia Hunter. If you haven’t read We Were The Lucky Ones, you are missing out. An unbelievable true story that is mind-blowing at times. Lauren Belfer, New York Times bestselling author, had this to say: “We Were the Lucky Ones is the most gripping novel I've read in years. Georgia Hunter pulled me into another world, vivid, horrifying, astonishing, and heartbreaking.” If you haven’t read WWTLO, you really should.

Then you can read One Good Thing as a chaser. Lili Passigili, the protagonist in Hunter’s latest, is a truly inspiring human. Like Rae, she is a once-in-a-lifetime friend. She and Esti meet in college. They form a bond that’s as strong as it is natural—and beautiful. In 1940 Italy, the girls encounter problems because they’re Jewish. When their problems grow exponentially, Esti pleads with Lili to take her son, Theo, and flee through war-torn, Nazi-occupied towns for safer Allied territories. Like the Kurcs’ experience, Lili’s journey is fraught with unimaginable horrors, biting pain, and lingering grief. But there is also spectacular courage, stirring resilience, and shining hope. Hurrah to the reviewer who shared, “Gripping. . . At once a riveting wartime story and a tender tribute to friendship, One Good Thing considers the small acts of kindness and the undergirding love that can sustain people through difficult times.” Way to go, Georgia. You poured some good hope into me.

Posted by Tracy

Blessed Are The Hearts That Bend

The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” —Ernest Hemingway A Farewell to Arms

What do Pat Solitano (think Silver Linings Playbook), Papa Hemingway, and Claire Leslie Hall have in common? Anyone wanna venture a guess? I bet there’s more than one possible response. Since it’s my riddle, here’s my answer: all three understood that “The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday. That’s guaranteed.” My semi-idealistic self can buy into bruised or scathed, but brokenness? I mean, Unbroken remains one of my hands-down favorite stories, as the war only almost swallows Louie’s soul. His belief and resiliency are ultimately bigger than his inconceivable challenges. I like that idea. While I know hearts invariably break, I think the trick is to teach our hearts to bend more often than not.

My latest read, Broken Country, has got me thinking that there’s a way back from collapse. That things can be fixed. When a young Beth Kennedy unsuspectingly falls head over heels in love with the charming, precocious, and privileged Gabriel Wolfe, she dreams of a blissful future together. Their relationship, not their love, ends abruptly after a heated miscommunication. Stubbornness prevails. Frank, who’s as practical as he is kind, helps Beth right her heart. They marry. Her life on Blakely farm in the English countryside proves serene. (The book’s setting is a lovely character in and of itself that makes me crave stillness, peace, and England even more.) Their quiet life turns on a dime when a stray dog attacks some of their sheep. The dog’s owner? Gabriel’s son, Leo. You’ll have to read on to see how this layered, complicated story unfolds. Inevitably, you’ll consider how one singular decision has the power to change the entire trajectory of a life. I love that Hall doesn’t cave in and offer a comfortable ending. Instead, she allows us to sit with her characters’ choices. To feel the weight of their consequences. She reminds us that we can become strong in broken places. Beautifully and poignantly, Broken Country underscores this truth: blessed are the hearts that bend.

P.S. I completely agree with the reviewer who said, “[this] novel does not grip you by the throat—it settles into your bones. If you are looking for a story that unfolds with patience, depth, and emotional complexity, Broken Country is one worth reading.”

One final note: Frank’s integrity gripped me. Similar to Atticus Finch, his goodness has stayed with me—it’s settling in my bones.

Posted by Tracy

JoJo's Mojo

“Life is good when you spend it with [characters] who make your heart happy.”  

Life is short. We all know we should spend it with people who make us laugh and feel loved—which, of course, are just two of the reasons I love to spend time with Rae. Doesn’t it stand to reason then that we should spend time with characters who make us laugh? Characters who make us think and feel? Let me just say that it’s true, life is good when you spend it with characters who ultimately make you happy that you got to know them.

If I sound like a book nerd, it’s because I am. At 2@27, we have our favorite authors—that’s no secret. We’re especially fond of writers who create memorable and inspiring characters. We can always count on JoJo’s mojo. Jodi Picoult’s right: “Nobody writes women the way JoJo Moyes does.” Lila Kennedy, the female protagonist in We All Live Here, spoke to me. I could really relate to her. For one, she has a whole lot on her plate. Check. What’s more, she unwittingly had her world turned upside down. Big ol check. Plus, she has the pressure of providing for her family. Yet another check. Have I mentioned that she has a BFF who keeps her sane? The only time Lila got under my skin was when, bright as she is, she fell for a charmer with a gift for breadcrumbing. But I forgave her because this is a story about forgiveness. Lila and I can both attest that even fractured families can find strength and wholeness thanks to the indisputable power of love. I’ll let Lisa Jewell have the last word here: “Jojo Moyes is as wise, funny, and glorious as ever with We All Live Here.”

Posted by Tracy

Still Suffering from Weltschmerz, Darling?

"A fairy tale is a lie that tells the truth."  —Unknown 

Remember, ages ago, when Rae taught us about Weltschmerz via Sheldon Cooper? (Ahh, Sheldon!) If you need a refresher, don’t worry. It’s been a minute. Weltschmerz is the depression that arises from comparing the world as it is to a hypothetical idealized world. In my idealized world, I would have read The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey when I bought myself and Rae a copy. (Rae blogged about Ivey’s debut novel a week or two later.) In the world as it is, I’m just now experiencing the Pulitzer Prize finalist’s writing in her latest Black Woods, Blue Sky. Someone, anyone, help me bridge the gap.

Ivey’s latest protagonist, Birdie, tries to bridge the gap between her reality— young single mom who struggles with the weight of parenthood while trying to make ends meet as a bartender in a remote Alaskan lodge—and the world she dreams of living in, where gorgeous (and dangerous) nature is front and center. Where her wild spirit can roam free. She craves a faraway place where time and rules don’t exist. Not surprisingly, Birdie is attracted to a recluse named Arthur. Arthur not only rescues her daughter Emaleen when she’s lost in the woods, but he also lives underneath the blue sky in the black woods permanently. When Birdie and Emaleen move to Arthur’s small cabin deep in the Alaskan forest, they experience both the magical and the mystical. They also experience firsthand the power of hidden identity. Black Woods Blue Sky is aptly referred to as “a dark fairytale.” Pick up Ivey’s latest and read on if you love exquisite writing and enthralling storytelling. Read on in search of a lie that tells the truth.

P.S. I hate to even say this: I suspect this book isn’t for everyone. If you are a literal reader who struggles with suspending reality, this may not be your cup of tea. I wish I could drink it all over again. 

Posted by Tracy

A Man Called Fred

“People forget facts. But they remember stories.”  —Joseph Campbell

You can say that again, Joseph. These days I’m struggling to remember stuff. Facts keep escaping me. What I wouldn’t give for a long winter’s nap right about now. Since my waking hours aren’t shrinking, I’ll have to settle (not settle) for a really great story. Fortunately, I discovered The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife. I was enticed by comparisons to A Man Called Ove. I’m happy to report Anna Johnston’s debut novel about a man called Fred was up to Backman snuff.

At 82, I hope I’m not down on my luck. Poor Fred finds himself in dire straits as he can no longer cover rent in the wake of his dearly departed’s monumental medical bills. Imagine Fred’s surprise (and guilt-ridden delight) when he passes for a nursing home resident named Bernard. Unlike his doppelgänger, Fred is upbeat and uniquely kind. Not only does he mend Bernard’s walls, but he manages to improve the lives of people all around him. At 82, I hope I demonstrate Fred’s propensity to love without conditions. And to frankly forgive. I’m so glad I met him—you should meet him too. I’m with author Richard Roper: The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife is “the warm hug of a novel we all need in our lives.”

P.S. Now I want to read Miss Benson’s Beetle again.

Posted by Tracy