Grand Central Publishing

Love, Honor, and Betray

brittany — Tue, 15 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Before I started to read it, this book held lots of promise; the cover tells of the author’s previous books being on the New York Times bestseller list. Unfortunately, I had not had the pleasure of reading any other of Kimberla Lawson Roby’s books. Since reading Love, Honor, and Betray, I have come to realize that one of its characters, the Reverend Curtis Black, was at the centre of a series of an eight books by the same author. This series forms a sort of soap opera narrative around this character and his family that has apparently had quite a bit of success. Lawson Roby is certainly a very prolific writer, having published fifteen books since 1997 and been the recipient of many prizes at the African American Literary Awards Show. Her books have a cult following.

Since reading the book, I have realized that I am perhaps not the best person to critique it. My feminist bent is too strong to not be offended by much of what the novel contains. The easy good versus evil dichotomy is maintained throughout the novel, with the main character, Charlotte, painted as a despicable woman and completely vilified by the author to suit the narrative that centers on the “good” Reverend. For example, when the Reverend’s ex-fling passes away, he wants to take in his baby daughter, Curtina, and raise her in his family. However, his wife Charlotte openly hates this child and spends the entire book treating her badly, until the end when she realizes she may lose her husband. While multiple women chase after the handsome Reverend, he stays faithful to his wife while she cheats on him with not just one stranger picked up in a bar, but with a former lover whom she reconnects with on Facebook.

The action in the novel never stops. There are naughty photos of Charlotte sent by cell phone to blackmail her into a subservient sexual relationship. There is a crazed paedophile holding teenagers hostage in a high school. There is a spectacular car crash that almost costs the Reverend his life.

All the characters are attractive one-dimensional mannequins who live an opulent way of life. This lifestyle is probably eons away from any of Lawson Roby’s readers. Charlotte gets back at her husband by maxing out his credit cards ($25,000) at the shopping centre, her son with the Reverend, Matthew drives a brand new luxury car at the age of seventeen, and they have a fulltime housekeeper. The ultimate cliché was the Obama-style fist bump the Reverend and Matthew give each other often in the novel.

Perhaps if I had read the previous novels, this would be a more interesting story; I have been known to follow soap operas in the past. But, the only thing that kept me turning the pages was the fact that I couldn’t believe that it could be any worse. Towards the end of the book, I was able to conceive of a redemptive factor through the fact that Lawson Roby’s publisher had included discussion questions for reading groups. Perhaps the purpose of the book is to discuss its transparent dichotomy and its one-dimensional characters?

Written by: Sophie M. Lavoie, March 15th 2011

Spooner

andrea — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Pete Dexter

Grand Central Publishing

Warren Spooner is an underachiever in a remarkable family. As a child, he sneaks around town peeing in people’s shoes and watching things burn in the city incinerator. As an adult, he first becomes a major league baseball player and then a writer, seemingly destined for early demise as he eagerly enters into questionable situations with his boxer pal Stanley Faint. After a string of surgeries, he has enough metal in his body to warrant concern about the weight of his coffin when he eventually dies. There has never been a lovable black sheep quite like Spooner.

His step-father Calmer, a quiet, contemplative ex-naval commander turned teacher, is a constant source of support as Spooner gets older but doesn’t quite grow up. Graciously married to Spooner’s long-suffering mother Lilly, Calmer dutifully arrives in the principal’s office, in Spooner’s hospital room, and eventually spends his dying days defending his adoptive son’s property and sanity in ways perhaps forever unknown to the then-middle aged family man. If Spooner is on an epic journey that spans five decades of difficulty, unemployment, heartbreak, and redemption, then Calmer is his near-constant companion, even when they’re separated by distance and time. The depth of their emotional journeys and the lengths taken to save one another are impossible to sum up in a review of any length.

With a reading group guide included, Spooner is clearly more popular than I realized. It’s no surprise; I happily and confidently place it on a list of the best books of the naughts. A riotously funny, deeply moving instant classic, it will be given as a gift to more than one angsty pal with the hope that Spooner and Calmer’s respective stories of confusion and eventual redemption will resonate in the myriad ways they did for me. Most compelling of all are the similarities between Spooner’s experiences and that of National Book Award-winning author Pete Dexter. My suggestion is to read the book before you research Dexter; otherwise, much will be prematurely revealed.

If you empathize with issues related to family dysfunction, young adult angst, unspoken affection between male family members, and an inability to ever fully mature into a socially functional grown-up, you should not miss this epic journey.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, January 5th 2011

Damaged

admin — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Kia DuPree

Grand Central Publishing

Damaged epitomizes a feeling of darkness and reeling loss with an utterly profound yet utterly hopeful ending. Continually faced with ongoing loss and disappointment, protagonist Camille Logan deals with a progression of horrifying moments, save for a small light of a boyfriend who seemingly will do anything for her. Once he is shot in an unexpected situation, Camille regains her lost feelings and chooses survival on the streets.

Depicting the story while by fully embracing the environment, author Kia DuPree brings a "realness of the streets" to the readers. Dialect and vocabulary clearly show her familiarity with the subject and environment where the characters dwell. The use of a southern dialect makes Damaged reading a bit like Toni Morrison's Beloved or Sula. DuPree provides the rawness of feeling lost without family, and she gives us the disappointments of lies and abuse, as well as illuminating moments of ambition and the determination of making a better life for oneself. Starting from the middle of the story, readers follow the book's chronology through the five years that lead to the book's end.

Damaged is dark and difficult. DuPree shows how poor youth struggle to survive abuse through the foster care system and then continue to suffer on the streets of an urban jungle. Exposing the inner city’s fast life, DuPree puts you on the train and takes you all the way to the end of the line. Everything is for sale and getting off the train isn't easy. In fact, sometimes there is no escape.

Well-written and clearly heartfelt, DuPree does justice to the perseverance and needs of all young people in cities who undergo change and need positive role models. Capturing the essence of power, control, and the people who abuse the two, she holds no brakes on exposing the very beliefs we have. A definite page turner, Damaged gives us hope.

Written by: Carolyn Espe, April 15th 2010

How Clarissa Burden Learned to Fly

admin — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Connie May Fowler

Grand Central Publishing

The title of Connie May Fowler’s novel How Clarissa Burden Learned to Fly comes close to saying it all. It is the story of a thirty-five-year-old woman’s inner struggle for independence and self-acceptance, which she slowly succeeds at achieving over the course of one single day—the summer solstice of 2006.

The novel takes place in the hot, sticky forests and savannas of northern Florida, and it starts as one imagines the weather might feel. Slow moving, but full of detail, the reader learns about the immediate situation Clarissa finds herself in, as well as her surroundings.

While Clarissa is in the kitchen of her sixteen-room, century-old house, her husband of seven years is outside taking photographs of naked women. He is an artist, and Clarissa is a bestselling author who hasn’t written anything in more than thirteen months. Instead of writing, she focuses her creative energies into meticulously detailed daydreams about the death of her husband.

Fowler makes it clear from the start that Clarissa is in a loveless, emotionally destructive marriage. While her husband works on his “art,” he lives off of Clarissa’s money and treats her like she's worthless. Coming from a childhood with an abusive mother and no father, Clarissa realizes she is a doormat, but doesn’t know how to overcome it. Luckily, on that summer morning, a switch flips inside of Clarissa's mind when she realizes how trapped she is. What she experiences afterward not only inspires her to write again, but inspires her to change her life, to “learn to fly” in more ways than one.

The novel focuses on Clarissa’s journey, but is told from the perspective of many. Clarissa’s house is haunted by the family who once lived (and died) there. There is a grounded angel and a carnival of dwarfs in town, and several of Clarissa’s inner voices prod her into taking action instead of waiting for things to happen. Every character she happens across that day seems to help to remind her that she is worth something.

Fowler does an admirable job of making a story that’s been told original and exciting. Clarissa’s story culminates with a storm, which picks up the pace considerably. This is welcomed after the slow, winding road the novel has gone down up until that point. The transformation she goes through is satisfying, but mainly because she is so insecure (almost unbelievably so at times) throughout the majority of the novel. Her situation is extreme, but her lack of confidence in herself and the decisions she makes is relatable. People need validation in their lives, and, thankfully, once Clarissa receives it she moves on.

Written by: Jill Hindenach, March 27th 2010

Waking Up in the Land of Glitter: A Crafty Chica Novel

admin — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Kathy Cano-Murillo

Grand Central Publishing

Waking Up in the Land of Glitter is Kathy Cano-Murillo's first foray into the world of novel writing. The author, known to her crafting disciples as "Crafty Chica," already has a well-established fan base because of her popular crafting books, web series, nationally syndicated newspaper column, instructional craft cruise to Mexico, and product line.

A few pages into the book, I could have sworn it was written by the same author as Houston, We Have a Problema. I quickly detected the same seemingly recycled character types: the young fiery Latina with no sense of direction, and her suave Latino love interest, always so cunning and elusive. Admittedly, I’ve grown sick of these caricatures, but I’m happy to report that Waking Up in the Land of Glitter scores much higher marks than its doppelganger.

Murillo’s first novel tells the story of Estrella (Star) Esteban, the wacky, spoiled daughter of two of Phoenix’s most prominent proponents of the local art scene. Star's parents own La Pachanga, a restaurant/community center/art space that also happens to be where Star works, doing what can only be described as a half-assed public relations job.

Crafty Chloe, the villain for the first two-thirds of the book, first comes into Star’s life when she interviews her after someone defaces a popular mural at La Pachanga, which happened to be created by local artist and Star’s sort-of-boyfriend, Theo Duarte. What Chloe doesn’t know is that Star did the defacing herself after one too many tequila shots.

What ensues is not original, groundbreaking, or thought provoking—it’s simply cute. After Theo and Star's parents find out she’s the one that ruined the mural, Theo breaks up with her (though they were never really together; "it’s complicated"), and her parents fire her, making her sign a contract saying that if she doesn’t get her life together she’ll have to move out of their home and stop working at their restaurant.

It is during this time we get into the cheesy coming-of-age tale, in which Star bands together with her best friend Ofie, an obsessive crafter with no crafting talent, Chloe, and a young gay teenager named Benecio to create centerpieces for what’s called the Crafting Olympics. It is also around this time that Star becomes an artist after talking about it for years, despite never picking up so much as a pen.

Despite clichés, bad dialogue, and not-so-intriguing characters, I was pretty hooked on this book and read it in just a few days. I suppose I’m a sucker for stories revolving around charmed lives—you know the type: it always works out for them in the end. And for Star, it all works out: She has an art show at her parent’s restaurant and sells every piece within hours, Theo proposes in a ridiculously elaborate way on her birthday, and she has enough money to buy a property on the same lot as La Pachanga so she can open her own crafting studio.

As I get older, I realize that not every book I spend time reading has to be an earth shattering, groundbreaking, eye-opening event. What you get with Waking Up in the Land of Glitter is a cute though trite little tale that will leave you wishing real life worked out as seamlessly as it does in books.

Written by: Tina Vasquez, March 25th 2010

Tell Me Something True

admin — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Leila Cobo

Grand Central Publishing

Tell Me Something True is about a young woman, Gabriella, who spends a summer visiting family in Colombia and what she learns about her mother, Helena, upon discovering her diary. Helena died when Gabriella was only a baby, so the image Gabriella has of her mother is broken when she is confronted by the secrets her mother kept. Meanwhile, she is dealing with her own life and the complications that arise as she develops a relationship with the son of a drug lord.

After reading the first few chapters, I thought I was going to hate it because it seemed too predictable. But as I kept reading, I felt myself drawn in by the lives of these two women and ended up really liking the book. Despite its predictability (which I found problematic throughout the entire book), it was the development of the characters that I enjoyed. I felt there was a lot about both Gabriella and Helena that I could relate to. As a Latina growing up in the U.S., I struggled with fitting in, balancing independence and obedience, managing expectations, visiting family abroad, etc., and I think a lot of that was captured very well in this book. Of course, these struggles aren’t exclusive to Latinas, and I think there is something for everyone to connect with as they read.

The structure of the novel is one of the things I liked most about it. Each chapter switches back and forth between Gabriella’s experiences in the present, written in the third person, and entries from Helena’s diary, written in the first person. Because the diary entries are moving forward in time (for the most part, anyway), there is an anticipation that comes with each entry as the reader waits to know the whole story. I like novels that jump through time and shift narrators, so in some ways I was the ideal reader. Those who find such narratives frustrating might have a hard time connecting to the story.

Based on the reviews I’ve read, another complaint people have about this book is that they don’t like the ending. There isn’t much I can say without giving it away, but I will say that in many ways the ending made me connect with Gabriella’s character even more. In my opinion, it was a more realistic ending rather than the typical storybook ending. There are also some questions left unanswered about other characters, so there isn’t the sense of closure that people expect. Personally, I don’t mind not knowing, but I can certainly see why others would feel let down by the ending.

So if you like books with traditional narratives and happy endings, you probably shouldn’t pick this one up. But if those things aren’t particularly important to you, this book might be a pleasant surprise, even with its predictability. At its core, this novel is a coming of age story with a couple of twists. It’s also about relationships – the ones that fall apart unexpectedly, and the ones that strengthen under unlikely circumstances.

Written by: frau sally benz, January 24th 2010

Tall, Dark, and Fangsome (Immortality Bites)

admin — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 17:06:00 +0000

By Michelle Rowen

Grand Central Publishing

Vampires are a dime a dozen these days. Everywhere you turn, there’s a new one ready to take your blood to prolong his un-life. Soon, there are going to be more vamps than humans, and then where will we be? (Read I Am Legend by Richard Matheson for the answer.) Between Twilight, True Blood, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, no human will be left unbitten, except that none of these vampires actually attack humans.

Tall, Dark and Fangsome adds nothing new to the decade old discussion of vampires. As we learn from Sarah Dearly, the unlikely protagonist, she is an Anne Rice-style vampire who likes dark makeup, blood in shot glasses at bars, emo, and brooding. Even Thierry de Bennicoeur, her ancient true love, is a standard vampire. Tall, Dark and Fangsome is the fifth in the Immortality Bites series.

Through the events of the first four novels in the series, Sarah has been given a nightwalker curse. This curse turns a standard vampire into the Nosferatu, the kind of vampire that (gasp) drinks blood from humans and enjoys it, because everyone knows that if you are forced to drink blood from a real, live human, you can’t enjoy it. Luckily for Sarah, her boyfriend has a convenient gold necklace that will stop the curse. She hates it because it’s so ugly, but without it, she’s likely to eat the first person she sees.

The main plot of this novel follows Sarah’s attempts to deal with Gideon Chase, a playboy billionaire cum vampire hunter who needs Sarah’s super-strong blood to remove his hellfire scars. In return for making him a vampire, he will give her the information she needs to free her from her ugly jewelry. Add in a Red Devil bodyguard, a vampire bodyguard with a penchant for standing in the shadows, a few meddling friends, and a teenage wizard with a love for death metal, and you have the plot of this novel, as well as anything vampire related in the last fifteen years. (Except Twilight, which doesn’t count since Edward isn’t a vampire; he’s a moody teenager.)

None of this would matter if the book was good, which it is not. It isn’t the worst novel ever written, but with no original ideas, the construction of the novel has to be perfect to carry it. This is far from it. The fantasy in Tall, Dark and Fangsome doesn’t equal a whole new world; there are just a few slight changes that don’t seem to affect anything. There are vampires everywhere, but everything looks exactly the same, except for the ability to order blood at bars. It’s lazy writing with little payoff.

I would love to call a moratorium on vampire books until someone has something new to contribute beyond "(s)he doesn’t want to be a vampire." If not, we’ll keep getting books like this; not bad, but filler in an already too full canon.

Written by: Taylor Rhodes, January 15th 2010

The Widow of the South

admin — Sat, 09 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Robert Hicks

Grand Central Publishing

Though it’s based in reality, Robert Hicks’ work of historical fiction The Widow of the South is an incredibly long, often meandering novel that failed to rouse me in any real way. And that’s something I’m truly sorry to report.

A few years ago, I became interested in all things Southern. My boyfriend, born and raised in Alabama, is like this treasure trove of lovely, unfamiliar things, and the area in which he was raised never fails to fascinate me, a girl who was born and raised in Los Angeles. The American South is this incredibly multi-faceted, bizarre, segmented country of its own, and I think its bloody, checkered past is greatly responsible for both its beauty and savagery. Needless to say, I was very excited to read Hicks' Deep South tale of a woman named Carrie McGavock, who had 1,500 Confederate soldiers buried in her back yard.

The opening scene of the novel takes place in 1894 and is perhaps the most telling of McGavock and what she has become; she spends her days almost obsessively walking the aisles of her personal cemetery with her former slave, wearing the same black dress she’s worn out of mourning for countless years, checking to make sure everyone is buried where they’re supposed to be. After McGavock’s home, the Carnton Plantation, was taken over by Confederate soldiers nearly thirty years prior, it’s safe to say that she was never the same again.

I’d be very interested in a novel that took the pains to describe exactly what kind of woman it would take to muster the strength and heart to dig up the bodies of these soldiers--whose original graves were going to be plowed over--and rebury them in her own backyard. There is a real sense of dignity and respect in this well-researched story, so I was disappointed—but not surprised—when a love story emerged that detailed the relationship between McGavock and a soldier named Zachariah Cashwell during the bloodiest hours of the war.

Frankly, I hate how novels, movies, and television shows of all kinds feel this overwhelming, almost obsessive need to throw a love story into any story featuring an interesting, strong, or otherwise compelling female character. Sure, love happens and the fact that McGavock and Cashwell were able to fall in love during the madness that was the Civil War is compelling in its own way, but in The Widow of the South it almost seems to cheapen McGavock’s strong character. The entire novel features lengthy passages of beautifully written prose, but sometimes it’d simply be nice to see a woman’s story stand on its own... and perhaps for a little less than 551 pages.

Written by: Tina Vasquez, January 8th 2010

On the Line

admin — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 16:01:00 +0000

By Serena Williams

Grand Central Publishing

I love everything about the U.S. Open except the line calls.

I experienced this past weekend's U.S. Open upset for Serena Williams with a different perspective than if I hadn't read her memoir On the Line. The book is written in Serena's voice. It's personal, it's conversational, and that's why I like it. I enjoyed her reflection on her life thus far.

I have to say that Serena is a spoiled brat, but that observation comes from her directly. She tells stories that curled this big sister's toes of scheming to get her way, cheating, and destroying her sisters' property. In looking back at all that peeking thru her fingers, I respect Serena for her honesty and self-criticism, and I agree with her judgment that she was a horrible little sister!

Serena spends a lot of time defending her father from the criticism he still receives about his coaching style. While her mom was pregnant with Venus, Serena admits her father decided that they would raise two tennis champions, and well, they did. He and Serena's mom taught themselves the game by playing and watching videos then he taught his daughters while they were living in Compton by playing on public courts. Even if the man is a controlling jerk, as some said early in the Williams Sisters career, you have to admit there's no country club pedigree here!

Serena digs deep to tackle the class and racial privilege they smacked into when Venus hit the tennis scene in a chapter on the 2001 Indian Wells tournament. Clearly, the girls were raised with a keen sense of history, especially civil rights history, and I've always admired Venus and Serena both for the way they play and for their tip of the hat to those who came before them.

Serena has a clear sense of racial and gender justice. Not only does Serena spend time discussing race and class, but she addresses all the fat comments she has received over the years. Positive body image is big with her. She understands that, as an internationally known tennis player and someone with more money than most of us will ever know, she has a responsibility to others on many fronts. I didn't follow all the Oprah criticism when the star built a school in Africa, but Serena gives the best response to that criticism I've ever seen by wrapping her justification around a touching story of visiting difference countries in Africa and wanting to do something.

She also lets us in on how much fashion has always played a key part of her and Venus' game. They weren't strong women athletes who "discovered" fashion as a way to sell themselves to the media or fans. They are savvy business women who aren't afraid of taking chances. Along with her sister, Serena will continue to blaze a path for herself and for others.

Even if you aren't a tennis fan or even someone who follows the players closely, we all know that there are some players who make a splash and then disappear or even worse, publicly self-destruct. Pressure and age are often pointed to as the factors as well as pushy parents. It's clear from this memoir that Serena and Venus couldn't have been "The Williams Sisters" without each other. Serena Williams has it all and survives. She did it despite a battle with depression, which she outlines with grace.

Serena haters won't like this book at all, but if you are truly interested in finding out what makes this powerful woman tick, pick up this memoir. It reminds me that Serena's been counted out far too many times and has always come back. She dug herself a hole this weekend, but I have faith that she'll redeem herself and silence the critics... again.

Cross-posted from Viva La Feminista

Written by: Veronica I. Arreola, September 15th 2009

April and Oliver

admin — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 17:17:00 +0000

By Tess Callahan

Grand Central Publishing

Tess Callahan’s debut novel, April and Oliver, begins with the death of April’s beloved younger brother, Buddy, in a car accident on a snowy winter afternoon. As Buddy takes his last breaths, he recalls a childhood memory of being lost in the woods with April and her friend, Oliver, and the reassurance of holding both of their hands. This brief prologue, like the next 300-plus pages of this novel, is beautifully rendered and sets the tone for the rest of the book.

In many ways, April and Oliver is a novel about loss. Both April and Oliver (who has recently returned to his home town with the woman he plans to marry after a long absence) have lost someone they cared for deeply in Buddy. And April’s grief in particular permeates the whole book.

In addition to losing Buddy, these former childhood friends have also lost significant parts of themselves now that they are adults. While April bears the scars of the sexual abuse she experienced as a teen and continues to choose older men who mistreat her, Oliver has given up the music he felt passionate about in his youth for a more practical career in law. April, wracked by shame, would prefer to forget the past, while Oliver insists on digging into it in order to discover the truth about what he considers to be some important events. During this process, these two complex characters must each confront their long-held feelings for one another. And over the course of the book they must decide what these feelings mean and whether they should be acted upon.

Tess Callahan is a talented writer whose prose is precise, evocative and, at times, simply exquisite. She paints vivid characters and has a particular gift for creating compelling scenes. Her talent falters a little, however, when it comes giving the reader an entirely satisfying story. In one instance, a key scene between April and an abusive boyfriend is played almost entirely off-camera. And the boyfriend is subsequently conveniently (and a little unconvincingly) disposed of, abruptly ending this story thread. In addition, it was also hard not to feel a little cheated by the novel’s climactic scene, which seemed a little heavy-handed. Still, I have to admit that I was left guessing about how the story would conclude until the very end.

Despite its flaws, April and Oliver is an extremely pleasurable read since Callahan weaves such shimmering and delightful prose, and explores some compelling and universal themes. Callahan is clearly a novelist who has much to offer. I look forward to her next book.

Written by: Elaine Beale, August 1st 2009

Laura Rider's Masterpiece

admin — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 23:25:00 +0000

By Jane Hamilton

Grand Central Publishing

Jane Hamilton's latest novel has a delightful premise. Laura and Charlie Rider own a Midwestern landscape business, for which Laura writes a newsletter. Charlie is a fantastic lover, a man whose equal doses of femininity and masculinity make his understanding of women profound. Laura suffers from “sexual fatigue,” and after twelve years of marriage, she has decided to stop sleeping with Charlie.

Jenna Faroli, the host of Milwaukee Public Radio's Jenna Faroli Show, has recently moved to Laura and Charlie's town of Hartley. Laura has always greatly admired Jenna. In fact, she has told Charlie that Jenna has “the biggest cranium on the planet.” When Laura meets Jenna at the Hartley Garden Club, she is awe struck, and decides Jenna would be a good person for Charlie to befriend. Laura has always dreamed of writing a novel, and she imagines that if she could bring Charlie and Jenna together, she would have real-life inspiration for the characters in her novel, and at the same time, she would be relieved of the sexual guilt she carries for not sleeping with her very sexual husband.

Hamilton's premise is intriguing, her characters quirky, and the setting is charming. But Laura Rider's Masterpiece seems to barely skim the surface of the complications that might arise from such an unusual triangle. Hamilton uses an omniscient narrator who follows all three main characters. This device might have been more successful had Hamilton not written such a brief novel. Coming in at merely 214 pages, the book doesn't quite give us the chance to know any of the characters well as we move quickly back and forth between them.

There are far too many oddities to be contained within these few pages. Charlie believes he saw a UFO when he was a teenager, and he and Jenna first meet when they see bobbing lights in the night sky. Charlie tells her about the Silver People he saw as a teenager. Jenna, who doesn't believe in UFOs, is taken with Charlie's story nonetheless. The Silver People are referenced frequently when Charlie and Jenna begin an email correspondence, yet ultimately, they serve as nothing more than a red herring in Masterpiece's plot. In addition, Laura's book idea disappears almost completely from the novel, along with the Silver People, while Charlie and Jenna pursue their off-beat romance.

Hamilton's prose is at times simply stunning. Early in the novel, when she is trying to think of ways to bring Charlie and Jenna together, Laura remembers that Charlie has Jenna's e-mail address: “Laura, thinking of that, closed her eyes and saw all at once a small opening, as if in the distance. A prick of light. It was the warm, well-lit tunnel of cyberspace, and she could hear it, too, hear the scurrying, the hum of the channel that would connect Jenna and Charlie.” Masterpiece is peppered with such illuminating passages. The various threads of the plot are all, in themselves, rich ideas, but the story and the characters are deserving of fuller treatment. Ultimately, Laura Rider's Masterpiece leaves the reader wanting more.

Written by: Natasha Bauman, July 29th 2009

Little Giant of Aberdeen County

admin — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 17:11:00 +0000

By Tiffany Baker

Grand Central Publishing

The Little Giant of Aberdeen County is Tiffany Baker's debut novel. Wow! How does one follow this work with another novel?

The story is set in rural Aberdeen County, where several generations of doctors named Robert Morgans live and practice. Truly Plaice was a baby that stretched her mother to epic proportions. The town watched Mrs. Plaice's pregnancy with relish. Most of the people in town placed bets on the size and weight of the baby. Every one agreed it would be a boy. Even Truly's mother believed she was carrying a son, but she died before Dr. Morgan can tell her it is a girl.

Truly's father blamed her for the death. He was ill-equipped to take care of his little daughter and a new baby. Serena Jane is what all fathers would want in a girl: pretty, proper, and quiet, the perfect big sister. Truly takes on her role as the town's outcast while Serena Jane becomes May Queen. This draws the attention of Bob Bob Morgan, the young doctor. His attraction to Serena Jane sets off a chain of events that changes Aberdeen County.

As Truly grows larger and larger, she also becomes the target of Bob Bob's attention in a very different way than her sister. When Truly gets her hands on a century old shadow book written by Aberdeen's white witch, life begins to look up. Truly's future changes. She is faced with choices such as: revenge or moral duty.

While reading this novel, I was reminded of a Flannery O'Connor story. The flavor of these characters and their realistic dialogue made me see the small southern town where I grew up. Once I began Truly's story, I couldn't stop. The author surprised me at each turn and never became predictable. Tiffany Baker's voice is original and exciting.

Written by: Ann Hite, June 4th 2009

Trail of Crumbs: Hunger, Love, and the Search for Home

admin — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 10:26:00 +0000

By Kim Sunée

Grand Central Publishing

Kim Sunée’s Trail of Crumbs is lovely coming of age story about a young woman searching for her identity, love, and place in the world—her home. Sunée writes a beautiful memoir about her passionate love affair, all the while embodying the tastes and sumptuous delicacies of her travels without embellishing her story. While her beginning is a difficult one, her life journey proves to be filled with fulfillment.

Trail of Crumbs is personal. This is a story that reaches into every reader’s mind. Her life path is an unusual one, filled with detours, peaks and valleys. Kim is a Korean orphan. She is adopted by American parents and grows up in New Orleans, a place where she really never quite fits in. She eventually journeys to Sweden and lives in cold weather most of the time until she meets a wealthy Parisian businessman who takes a liking to her. He asks her to live with him in Paris. She lives well, but it is not enough for Kim.

What intrigues me about this memoir is the possible path Kim could have taken in her life. Instead of waiting for a man to come along so they could live happily ever after, she chooses independence of her life, freedom for herself and takes responsibility of whatever consequences may follow. She lives in a Paris apartment, focuses on her writing, and builds a new life, a new reality for herself.

As if her memoir was not enough, she places one recipe at the end of each chapter to entice the readers to possibly do some cooking. Each delicious recipe corresponds with her many childhood memories. She remembers her past through her recipes—smells, tastes, sights, and sounds. She’s a master describing the senses. Sunée writes with elegant prose and charming delight.

Written by: Mona Lisa Safai, April 24th 2009

Things I’ve Learned From Women Who’ve Dumped Me

admin — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 17:04:00 +0000

Edited by Ben Karlin

Grand Central Publishing

I have a love/hate relationship with liberal publications, like the New York Times, that discuss progressive issues and at the same time print articles that seem to use stone age mentality to “prove” the differences between women and men. I am forever intrigued by science’s never-ending love affair with sexual dimorphism, and articles with the headlines “What Do Women Want?” and “Varying Sweat Scents Noted By Women” seem to fill the pages of publications every day.

I have a similar love/hate relationship with Ben Karlin’s collection of essays, Things I’ve Learned From Women Who’ve Dumped Me, which expounds on gender differences for the sake of humor and, at times, offers a bit of insight. I am not alone in my intrigue because, unsurprisingly, this book is a national bestseller.

It also comes as no surprise that the “I” in the title refers exclusively to men, as heteronormativity runs rampant in this book. With the exception of one essay, written by Dan Savage, most of the essays detail the faults and failures of previous relationships and how those relationships prepared the dumped ones for marriage. Marriage is a reoccurring theme in these essays, and it is depicted as the final, succeeding goal for most of the men. Not much seems to be learned in these essays, as the men just realize ways to finagle their way into a less demanding, more comfortable relationship.

While the matters mentioned above encompass the latter part of the love/hate relationship, there is the part of me that loves to read a book like this. As it is a humor book, I release the hold of my feminist lens a bit, and relax into what is otherwise an engaging book. Part of me is curious what the average, mainstream male thinks today of their relationships with women. This book is not so much a birds-eye-view into the hearts and minds of men, but more of a carefully crafted, one-sided story of woe, and nonetheless an honest exposure of feelings.

While many of the essays rest on age-old stereotypes, some essays reveal insights that are often overlooked in the discussion of men and sexuality. In the opening essay, Dan Vebber discusses his lack of sexual drive and utter fear of intercourse, Andy Richter writes about coping with male body issues, and Rodney Rothman tells a tale of teenage heartbreak. It is essays like this that make this book unique and unlike the common portrayal of gender dynamics that is present in contemporary media.

This book offers readers more to think about than the average easy read, while still maintaining its funniness and fluidity. You might not learn much from this book but it is at least a fun way to further your love/hate relationship with indulgent gender commentary.

Written by: Krista Ciminera, April 14th 2009

Houston, We Have a Problema

admin — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 17:23:00 +0000

By Gwendolyn Zepeda

Grand Central Publishing

It’s never a good sign when you have to begin a book review with, “I really wanted to like…” Gwendolyn Zepeda’s completely uninspired first novel Houston, We Have a Problema is disturbingly typical—which is perhaps the worst thing you can be as a writer.

I really wanted to like her Latina protagonist Jessica Luna. I was hoping she’d be fiercely smart, funny, and unexpected. Sadly, she stopped being promising about four pages in. Zepeda allows her character to fall victim to the usual clichés featured in both movies and literature pertaining to the Latino culture. Watch as Jessica Luna worries about the size of her ample ass. Watch as she pines and obsesses over the attractive Latino painter who treats her like shit, but superbly provides the drama she “loves.” Listen as she makes earth-shattering observations, such as, “He was the kind of guy who obviously loved his mother, and therefore he always treated women like gold.” Aside from that, Jessica Luna simply wasn’t a likeable character.

Perhaps you’re not supposed to admit things like this, but I was reading Michelle Tea’s Rose of No Man’s Land at the same time as Houston, We Have a Problema. The two books are worlds apart, but they are both written in first person from the main character’s perspective. Tea’s main character is a young teenage girl while Zepeda’s is a twenty-six-year old woman. Despite this fact, Rose of No Man’s Land managed to be biting and intellectually stimulating; it had backbone and its character had nuance and layers. Zepeda’s character Jessica Luna lacked depth of any kind and was completely self-involved, uninteresting, and annoying.

You’re forced to sit through her every mundane thought concerning her ridiculous love life and her boring job at an insurance company. Her internal struggles are so trivial that her “problems” are laughable. This sad state is only compounded by the fact that she visits a psychic for guidance—should she date the gabacho or the Mexicano? Should she do web design or try for a promotion at the insurance company? By the end of each chapter you’re left thinking, who gives a fuck?

Houston, We Have a Problema was obviously intended to be Jessica Luna’s coming-of-age tale, but if falls very, very flat. It also only furthers certain negative stereotypes associated with Latinas; that all of us love drama, that we want men who are bad for us, that we’re meek, apologetic, and indecisive. Though the protagonist routinely says she’s purposely steering clear of marriage, she spends more than half the book obsessing over men. Jessica Luna lets her life pass her by, unwilling to make her own decisions and unable to pinpoint whatever it is that she wants. I’d like to say that the novel ends on a promising note, but it doesn’t. In the end she dumps the white guy and the Latino painter … and then entertains the thought of dating two new men. Big whoop.

Written by: Tina Vasquez, March 9th 2009