Hello Universe, Goodbye Screens

"People don't want to listen to their thoughts, so they fill the world with noise."

Rachel was right: we do take summer vacation seriously around here. Me and the kids headed for the mountains for a minute. Apparently, I'm not like most people because I do want to listen to my thoughts and drain my world of noise. (Well some noise, I do have kids in tow.) I hoped my kids would ditch screens for trees. But I had to coax. Needless to say, I was delighted when they willingly put down the controllers to finish our latest read: Hello Universe.

I feel like a fraud anytime I recommend a Newberry. Clearly, it's been labeled a winner by experts—I'm just simply saying I second that emotion. But maybe you, like me, haven't heard of this one? I happened upon Erin Entrada Kelly's third novel when I perused through Costco's books. The cover's disclaimer that some friendships are meant to be piqued my interest because I believe that's gospel truth. Hopefully, my boys learned something more about friendship, courage, and discovering their inner bayani (hero). Maybe they're even convinced there are no coincidences? What can I say? This book was as good as the woods and the sound of the babbling brook outside my window.

p.s. I loved Lola's stories within the story.

Posted by Tracy

New York, A Birthday, And My Best Read So Far

"I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world's greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance." Nora Ephron

Hi there. It's been a while. Did we fail to mention that we take summer vacation seriously around here? You know what else we take seriously? Birthdays. And Tray just had a big one. So we celebrated big in the Big Apple because if anyone deserves a New York soiree, it's Tray. The only thing better than that skyline, a night spent with Hamilton, and Magnolia Bakery's banana pudding was simply being in the same zip code as Tracy. She is good for the soul, especially mine. Throw in her lovely sister Nin and our dear friend Kym, top it off with a little Captain Craig and Lady Di, and you've got the makings of a magical holiday. It was one for the books.

Speaking of books and magic, it's only fitting to talk about my latest favorite read in a post about one of my favorite humans. And of course, as is the case with so many books I love, Tray found it first. It's a gift, I tell you. Lucky us for being the beneficiaries. 

The Librarian of Auschwitz is based on a true story about a real-life literary hero named Dita Kraus, who at the young age of fourteen, risked her life to keep the magic of books alive during the Holocaust. If you're a book lover (a redundant question), then you will love this book. Not to say this is an easy read—there were times I had to stop listening and weep. No, not easy, but hauntingly beautiful and immensely important. And hopeful. As Dita reminds us, "In a place like Auschwitz, where everything is designed to make you cry, a smile is an act of defiance.” You will smile. And you will even cheer. Because even in the darkest of places, "for the time the story lasts, the children stop being in a stable full of fleas, they stop smelling burned flesh, they stop being afraid. During those minutes, they're happy." Books are magic. And this one, just like Tray, is pure gold. 

Posted by Rachel

An Offer of Repair

“God smiles through the cracks in broken things.”

Help! We’ve fallen and we can’t get up! Rae and I haven’t helped with the shelf-improvement as of late, have we? Let me be the first to say I’m sorry. I stumbled across an article in Psychology Today titled “6 Science-Based Ways to Say ‘I’m Sorry’ Effectively.” Researchers believe acknowledgement of responsibility is the most important part of apologizing. So I publicly admit it was a mistake not to post more in the past 8 weeks. The second most important element of saying sorry is an offer of repair. (We don’t need to be sciencesy to know this stuff—it’s just good human practice.) At any rate, this post is a small offering of repair. Sometimes we feel a little more broken or tired or spent, and this was just one of those times.

I enjoyed The Map of Salt and Stars because it acknowledges that we feel a little more broken or tired or spent at times. (Granted, my problems are seemingly infinitesimal compared to a refugee’s.) It took me some time to finish—which had more to do with my life than the book.  While I pride myself on picking good reads, I should have thought to go with a lighter read to span Luke’s surgery/recovery than Joukhadar’s rich debut novel. The plight of Syrian refugees is sobering and heavy. And significant. I was reminded how important it is to find our voice and to learn the skill of repairing ourselves. I’m not ready to compare this to The Kite Runner just yet, but here are three things I loved about this book: (1) The writing was lyrical. At times, I felt like the pace was a bit slow (again, maybe that had to do with what I had going on outside of the book), but the writing was consistently beautiful; (2) I really liked Joukhadar’s strong and independent female characters; (3) I loved that both narratives involved a search for home, which is rarely a place and more often about people. I too wonder “whether the most important things we see in God are really in each other.”

Posted by Tracy

Shelf-Improvement

“There’s always room for improvement, you know—it’s the biggest room in the house. —Louise Heath Leber

Geez Louise, we have room for improvement right about now. It’s the only room in the house.  I’m not sure what to say about it. My son is healing after a five-hour surgery, but I’m having trouble recuperating.  And I haven’t read for days.  But I did have the recent good fortune of chatting with my neighbor Heather who is the consummate high school English teacher. (A Miss Gibson kinda girl.) Our conversation naturally drifted to books. So I did what any zonked (as in tired) blogger would do: I asked her to recommend some of her favorite reads. If you’re searching for your next read and you’re interested in history, you can trust in these: 

Heather just finished this book and couldn’t stop raving about it. NPR hailed LaPlante’s novel as one of the best books of 2012. From what I can see, this book celebrates a woman of great strength and even better perspective. One reviewer said, Marmee & Louisa “provides new [and compelling] evidence exposing [Abby’s] undeniable influence on her daughter … Fresh material gives flesh to the formerly invisible Abigail, revealing how she and her famous daughter mirrored one another … Thoroughly researched and moving.” If you love Alcott, you are bound to love this beauty. 

This too is a book written years ago that remains fascinating. Rachel vacillated when assigning stars to Larson’s best seller: 4, maybe 4 and half? Here’s what I know: if Rachel and Heather both recommend it, it’s worth reading.  If you’re curious as to what this book is about, amazon’s description goes like this: The Devil in the White City is a “true tale of the 1893 World's Fair and the cunning serial killer who used the fair to lure his victims to their death. Combining meticulous research with nail-biting storytelling, Erik Larson has crafted a narrative with all the wonder of newly discovered history and the thrills of the best fiction.” I’m pretty sure I need to take a trip to the fair this summer. 

Written by Tracy

Envoy of Beauty

“If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: in love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are.” 

Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came out once every thousand years. I think we know the answer—we’d all ditch insignificant sleep and try not to blink. I’m pretty sure we’d feel delirious. And yet the stars come out every night and we elect to watch t.v. Our obvious deficiencies don’t change the fact that some books feel like starry, starry night.  They make us feel delirious. In fact, they’re indescribable. So here’s my frank admission: I don’t have enough lovely words to adequately describe this week’s throwback. (Yes, I’m fully aware that it’s Friday.) 

It’s a daunting task to try and review a book that glimmers like The Nightingale. Personally, I think this is a story everyone should read. While World War II novels don’t constitute the read less traveled, I was particularly riveted because Hannah opted to focus on a part of history seldom explored—the women’s war. Two sisters, dissimilar as night and day, navigate the treacherous and winding path of Nazi-occupied France. I felt blessed to observe valiant characters in defining moments of great challenge—characters that grew out of real-life war heroines Andree de Jongh and Edith Cavell. This unforgettable novel celebrates the durability and strength of women. It reminds me of the resilience of the human spirit. I was no less enamored by the powerful message of love and sacrifice.  A book that is irrefutably inspiring. Like Emerson’s description of the stars, The Nightingale is an “envoy of beauty,” to help illuminate the universe. And I'm still basking in this brilliant novel. 

Posted by Tracy

Public Service Announcement

Picking five favorite books is like picking the five body parts you'd most like not to lose. —Neil Gaiman

We're already fretting over which book will top our list—how about you? Don't miss the opening episode of The Great American Read tonight! It feels a little like the lead up to the Super Bowl of books and we'll admit to being downright giddy about it. Book nerds for life.

Posted by Rachel

Mini-Review Monday

“Sleep is good, he said, and books are better.” ―George R.R. Martin

Lately, I haven't been getting enough of either. Thankfully, there have been more books than sleep, so I have a couple reads ready just in time for Mini-Review Monday. Every once in a great while, the stars align.

Everything here really is beautiful—heartbreakingly so. I had mixed emotions about this book, for personal reasons. Having a brother who suffered from a mental illness, there were times it hit too close to home. But Lee's portrayal of what it feels like to be a sibling watching someone you love battle their demons is spot on. This book will stay with me for a long, long while. When you're up for a heavy read, dive in. 

This is not your mother's WWII read. Nor is it really a WWII read, for that matter. Confused yet? I was. For some reason I thought this book was set in WWII when I started reading. Clearly, I didn't read the description closely...or at all? Or I just need more sleep. Turns out this is really a WWI novel—set in the aftermath of WWII. It brings together two starkly different women: a former British spy for the real-life Alice Network in France during WWI and a pregnant American socialite. It's fast-paced, a bit too predictable at times, and chock full of salty language. And it was a Reese Witherspoon book club pick. All of which make it a shoe-in for Hollywood. 

Posted by Rachel

Weekly Wrap-Up

“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations.” ― Oscar Wilde

WHAT WE LOVE THIS WEEK

Moms. And food. What better way to celebrate both than with Magnolia Table. Now if we can just find someone to come over and serve up all these delicious recipes. Word has it Jo has a little more time on her hands these days...

Lorelei Gilmore. A favorite mom, indeed. Still searching for ways to curb my Gilmore Girls withdrawals and this feels like a great place to start.

For one of the best memoirs on the infinite depths of a mother's love: Paula, by Isabelle Allende. 

We moms can be pretty hard on ourselves. So to keep things in perspective, we're highlighting some of the worst mothers in literature this week over on our Insta account. Have a look and you'll instantly feel better about your mom skills. 

We're still smarting from the news that The Guernsey Literary and Sweet Potato Peel Pie movie won't be coming to US theaters. Sigh. As we anxiously await its Netflix release, we'll continue tormenting ourselves by following @GuernseyMovie on Instagram. We do enjoy a good wallow. 

This must be the universe's way of making it up to us: