Buried secrets, broken souls, boring story

The Keeper
Sarah Langan

Things are going bad in the small town of Bedford. Its inhabitants are all awful people, but are they to blame for their own shitty natures? Or are they being slowly poisoned by the noxious town with a malignant paper mill at its heart? One young woman, Susan Marley seems to know the town's secrets -- or is she the cause of them? A series of bad events bring the town's secrets to the surface, and life in Bedford will never be the same.

I loved Sarah Langan's followup to this novel, The Missing, so I was interested in reading the book that started it all. I downloaded it on my Kindle and was prepared to be floored. And I was.

Unfortunately, I was floored not by its awesomeness, but by the lack thereof. The Keeper was BORING. There were a ton of characters that kept melding into one another, and I kept forgetting who was who. The first 70% of the book was setting the stage for the final destruction, but I was so bored that, when it came, I was glad to see the destruction come.

In a nutshell: I'm glad I read The Missing first, or else I might not want to read more by this author. As a first novel, however, Langan proves she has the chops to write some truly disturbing horror.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: Back off, I purchased it for my Kindle!

Kinda mediocre and somewhat offensive

The Moth Diaries
Rachel Klein

First of all, I'd just like to say that I read this book in 2009. I caught a bad bug that spanned both decades (sounds crazy right? Not really), which prevented me from updating sooner.

Okay, so the pros: It was a fast read (I read it in one day). It features an unreliable narrator, and unreliability is always super fun. There may or may not be a vampire in it. (The uncertainty! Sqee!) And...did I mention this was a fast read? BAM!

Unfortunately, I felt the cons outweighed the pros: I can't put my finger on it, exactly, but The Moth Diaries just didn't sit right with me. The writing was okay, the plot was okay, the characters were okay. But nothing made me stand up and say good morning, know what I mean? Unlike THIS:

a really, REALLY big moth (and random child)
Good morning!

Also, there is this whole condescending tone of "mental illness as something you choose," which REALLY didn't sit well with me at all. See, the point of the book is that EITHER our narrator is crazy OR ELSE there really is a creepy vamp stalking her schoolmates. Of course, it doesn't help that said narrator is taking a course in Gothic Lit and so therefore may be projecting. Then again, her good friend, who is most likely the vamp's #1 Target, IS named Lucy (a nod to Dracula, right?), so maybe Klein is directing us to the fact that the other chick IS a vamp. WHO KNOWS? (insert dramatic music here)

Now, this is sorta (but not really) spoilerish: The mystery is never truly resolved. Insane narrator? Vamp? The reader must decide. Our narrator, however, has apparently decided it's the former. At the end of the book, she's all: "I just had to decide to become human" or some shit and I was like -- eh? Because you were totally diagnosed as borderline personality + paranoia and a whole bunch of other stuff that is kinda not like a choice. I just felt like that was a shitty way to end the book, but no judgment from me or anything. (SARCASM)

In a nutshell: Kinda mediocre and somewhat offensive.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: This one was purchased for me as a Christmas present. (Sorry, mommy! Don't worry: I liked the next one better.)

A disease from the past? Great, something else to fear.

Year Zero
Jeff Long

About two years ago, I happened upon Jeff Long's Deeper, and I knew I had to read more by this author. A month ago, when searching for some good "Kindle books," I found my second opportunity to hang out with this author.

The plot for this one sounds rather complicated (it doesn't feel complicated when reading the novel, thankfully), so bear with me. A big earthquake levels much of the Middle East. Boo. However, parts of Jesus' actual neighborhood are now accessible. Yay! Unfortunately, some of the artifacts are tainted with disease. Boo. Now a deadly plague is tearing across the globe. Poop.

Nathan Lee, our intrepid protagonist, after numerous adventures that culminate in his imprisonment in a Tibetan jail, finds himself unguarded once the plague begins to rear its ugly head. Finally free, he slowly makes his way to America, specifically Los Alamos, where surviving scientists struggle to find a cure for the plague. Lee's in for an even bigger surprise, though: the scientists are making clones from the DNA found on the artifacts! And then things go from bad to worse. Oh boy.

Year Zero provides readers with an interesting, thrilling scenario. While I didn't enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Deeper, I was entertained enough to want to search out more by Jeff Long. And I won't wait another two years to do it, either!

In a nutshell: Intriguing and fast paced, Year Zero was an original and fun read.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: I bought this one for the Kindle.

This Funhole isn't that fun

The Cipher
Kathe Koja

Uh-oh. Nicholas, a would-be poet trapped in video store hell, has found a black hole in the basement. He and Nakota, his sometime girlfriend, become obsessed with it, dubbing it the Funhole and staring into its depths for hours on end.

Then they begin to experiment, lowering down a jar of bugs. Then, a mouse. Even a human hand. They do not return unscathed, the Funhole disturbingly altering them. Soon, they get the bright idea to send down a camcorder. Should be interesting, right?

As you might have guessed, things go from bad to worse for poor Nicholas and Nakota. Unfortunately, the same can be said for the book as a whole.

The impressionistic, often hazy style of writing often created confusion as to what was actually happening (it doesn't help that Nicholas is an alcoholic and not the most clear of narrators).

In a nutshell: Great premise, disappointing execution. (So says the hypocrite participating in nanowrimo. Yes, I'm aware of the irony.)

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

FTCBS: I got this one outta the library...thank heavens.

Nature = scary (not to mention buggy)

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
Stephen King

Trisha McFarland is royally screwed.

Her parents are getting divorced: dad's an alcoholic, and mom's hatching one crackpot bonding plan after another. Her love of baseball (especially Tom Gordon, her favorite player) is one of the only things capable of bringing a smile to her face. Unfortunately, the comforts of home are far away after she finds herself lost in the middle of the woods with no tools and barely any food. Hoping rescue is just an hour or two away, she begins walking back toward what she believes is the path from which she first veered.

Needless to say, Trisha is wrong.

What follows is a harrowing misadventure that reminds anyone with half a brain NOT TO LEAVE THE FRIGGIN PATH when you're traipsing through the woods. Unless, of course, you happen to be a) older than 9, b) insane, or c) equipped with basic hiking gear, like, say, a compass.

What she thinks is a shortcut isn't; what she believes will take her back won't. Trisha gets lost and lost again, all the while struggling to survive in the face of some pretty awful obstacles.

As if this weren't already enough, King throws something ELSE at this poor kid: something is stalking her in the woods. What is this thing - is it beast? or human? Real, or a figment of her imagination?

In a nutshell: A fast, entertaining read that might have been better as a short story; still, readers can easily sympathize with Trisha and will want to see her through to the end.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

A world rich with lunacy and sorrow

The World According to Garp
John Irving

Don't think I haven't forgotten my reading resolution; I've just given myself some slack with it. Instead of reading ONLY resolution titles, I'm allowing myself the occasional splurge, but I'm still plugging on.

My latest resolution title is one that gave me some trouble at first. I started reading The World According to Garp at the beginning of May, but it took me awhile to really get into the story. The beginning of the novel, which seemed like so much unnecessary backstory (more about this in a sec), weighed me down and prevented me from reading faster. However, once Garp got out of high school, the story picked up and I couldn't put it down.

Although I found the beginning of the book slow, I wouldn't delete a single word now that I look back on it. We begin well before Garp's birth by meeting his mother, Jenny. Garp himself doesn't make an appearance right away, but, while this information bored me at first, I soon found that it allowed me to truly come to know Garp and his family as though they were flesh and blood.

I feel as though I'm the only person left who hasn't yet read this book (or seen the movie starring Robin Williams. Really? Robin Williams as Garp? I wouldn't have thunk it), so a summary probably isn't necessary, but here goes: Garp's born, he's a bit quirky, his mother's even quirkier, Garp becomes a writer, shit happens to him and a lot of others and life goes on. That's pretty much the entire book, and yet it's somehow so much more. In fact, I felt as though I lived a lifetime while reading about Garp.

In a nutshell: Has anyone read anything else by John Irving? Because Garp was so good, I'm going back for seconds. Irving also has a new novel out in October, entitled Last Night in Twisted River... so be on the lookout, Irving fans!

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

A Return to Simpler Times

The Food of a Younger Land
Mark Kurlansky

This is a hard book to summarize, so I'm going to allow the book jacket to do the honors:

Award-winning New York Times–bestselling author Mark Kurlansky takes us back to the food and eating habits of a younger America: Before the national highway system brought the country closer together; before chain restaurants imposed uniformity and low quality; and before the Frigidaire meant frozen food in mass quantities, the nation’s food was seasonal, regional, and traditional. It helped form the distinct character, attitudes, and customs of those who ate it.

In the 1930s, with the country gripped by the Great Depression and millions of Americans struggling to get by, FDR created the Federal Writers’ Project under the New Deal as a make-work program for artists and authors. A number of writers, including Zora Neale Hurston, Eudora Welty, and Nelson Algren, were dispatched all across America to chronicle the eating habits, traditions, and struggles of local people. The project, called “America Eats,” was abandoned in the early 1940s because of the World War and never completed.

The Food of a Younger Land unearths this forgotten literary and historical treasure and brings it to exuberant life. Mark Kurlansky’s brilliant book captures these remarkable stories, and combined with authentic recipes, anecdotes, photos, and his own musings and analysis, evokes a bygone era when Americans had never heard of fast food and the grocery superstore was a thing of the future. Kurlansky serves as a guide to this hearty and poignant look at the country’s roots. From New York automats to Georgia Coca-Cola parties, from Arkansas possum-eating clubs to Puget Sound salmon feasts, from Choctaw funerals to South Carolina barbecues, the WPA writers found Americans in their regional niches and eating an enormous diversity of meals. From Mississippi chittlins to Indiana persimmon puddings, Maine lobsters, and Montana beavertails, they recorded the curiosities, commonalities, and communities of American food.

I was fascinated by the eating habits of America's younger years, and even marked a few recipes to try later. The book is divided into geographical sections (the Northeast, the Southwest, etc.) and I enjoyed seeing how traditions varied from place to place.

In fact, in reading The Food of a Younger Land I couldn't help but think the authors of The Liberation Diet would enjoy this book. In the past, Americans ate lots of whole-fat foods, lots of animal fats, and lots of locally grown produce. I'm still not swayed.

In a nutshell: This is not a book to be read straight-through, as one would a novel, but rather to be digested slowly, in small bites, as one would a sumptuous feast.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

We are all the same human beings with the same potential to be good

The Blonde on the Train
Eleanor Lerman

My latest review for Pajiba is up, and this time I had the pleasure of reviewing The Blonde on the Train, the latest collection of short fiction from award-winning poet Eleanor Lerman.

The Blonde on the Train is different from my usual reading fare, but Lerman's prose is relatable and enjoyable. You may read my full review here.

In a nutshell: An intriguing collection of stories, The Blonde on the Train reminds us that we're more alike than we are different.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

A king knows what to do and does it

Mystic River
Dennis Lehane

I've heard many good things about Dennis Lehane's Mystic River, and I wasn't worried about liking it due to how much I enjoyed his Shutter Island. Ultimately, I found Mystic River to be a riveting, suspenseful read that was a fast addition to my reading resolution.

The novel begins as three young boys are playing on the streets. A car approaches and stops them -- two men are in the car, claiming to be cops. One boy, who lives across town, gets in the car with them to be taken home to his parents; the other two boys are left behind to walk home. As a result of this obviously bad decision (it's immediately clear these men are not cops, despite the fear that blinds the boys to this fact), the lives of all three are irrevocably changed.

The novel then shifts years ahead to their adulthood, as each man struggles to loosen the effect of that fateful day so long ago. While the three are still local, their paths have diverged, and they are no longer the singular unit they once were. That, however, is about to change: a murder soon reunites them, drawing the three together again to confront both the present and past tragedies.

I suspected different people of different things at different points in the novel, and, while I did anticipate a few twists, the overall denouement was surprising and satisfying. I closed Mystic River with a feeling of content -- if not for the characters, then at least for myself. Now I can see the movie . . . at some point.

In a nutshell: Taut, compelling -- nicely done all around.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

The dead know nothing

What the Dead Know
Laura Lippman

It seems as though What the Dead Know took me FOREVER to read. I started it in October (I think), but finished the majority of the novel last week. As such, it counts as another title in my reading resolution, although I'm disappointed to report that reading this book wasn't as enjoyable as some other titles I've read so far in 2009.

What the Dead Know is a mystery thirty years in the making. When a woman involved in a car accident claims to be one of two young sisters who disappeared thirty years earlier, investigators return to the case that has stumped them for so long. Unfortunately, things don't add up. Why is this woman coming forward now? How can such a bizarre tale be true? Why does she refuse to aid the police in their investigation? She's hardly reliable, and yet it's clear she knows something.

I'd like to say that I enjoyed What the Dead Know more than I did, but, truth is, I found it pretty mediocre. I was able to predict certain truths, and the writing wasn't particularly scintillating. Furthermore, some parts dragged and I felt the novel could have been shortened substantially.

Unfortunately, my reaction to this book has left me feeling less than adequate, since I've read quite a few glowing reviews of What the Dead Know. What's wrong with me that I didn't enjoy it more? Oh well. No time to ponder such profundities -- I've got more books to read.

In a nutshell: Yawn.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

I'm neither thinking nor feeling this one

No One Belongs Here More Than You
Miranda July

Another day, another disappointment.

I'd heard so much about No One Belongs Here More Than You, and I was eagerly awaiting it to appear in paperback so I too could join the cool kids in praising July from the mountaintops. She's so quirky! So profound!

Obviously, I didn't enjoy No One as much as I expected. Nor can I even say I can recognize its merits; all in all, I was thoroughly disappointed.

The only strength of this collection is July's voice, which is both unique and compelling. Were it not for her prose, I never would have gotten through some of the stories.

Upon further reflection, I might give her another go one day. I mean look at her: she's seems like someone I ought to like. Quirky. Profound. Perhaps the Beast of Overhype has struck again, making my disappointment all but inevitable.

In a nutshell: I feel "uncool" not liking this book (it seems all the bright young things are digging it) but I just didn't connect.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2.5 out of 6 stars

too cold to cry when I woke up alone

DIRT: An American Campaign
Mark LaFlamme

Today I have the pleasure of hosting Dirt: An American Campaign, as part of Mark LaFlamme's virtual blog tour. I try to be extremely picky when agreeing to participate in blog tours, because I'd hate to write a negative review and yet I'd hate to lie and say I liked a turd.

Any wariness was immediately erased by the premise of the novel -- the son of a White House contender breaks into the cemetery and steals the body of his wife, then runs off with her -- which told me I wouldn't have to worry about writing a bad review.

My intuition was sound, because Dirt was a great read. The novel is fast-paced, and LaFlamme's prose never dawdles or plods. Dirt begins as a grief-sricken Calvin Cotton exhumes his wife before skipping town. This news is quite unsettling to his father, Governor Frank Cotton, who is currently in the running to be the Republican Party's nominee for president. Deeply concerned about his campaign son, the governor sends in Thomas Cashman to quietly sweep this problem under the rug.

Surprisingly, Cashman decides to enlist the help of Billy Baylor, a man who understands Calvin's point of view. Once a best-selling novelist who wrote about men in just Calvin's situation, Baylor now spends his days in an alcoholic stupor, unable to surmount his own grief. Propelled by the promise of free booze, Baylor agrees to help Cashman find the distraught young man and retrieve the body of his wife, who is quickly getting quite...ripe.

Somehow I don't think Bethany looks this good

After the opening exhumation scene, the novel barrels ahead until reaching the end. I was surprised to see that, although I had anticipated one scene, I never anticipated the full extent of the final revelations. I was also glad to see that Dirt does not descend into preachiness, as the author sides with neither political party. LaFlamme makes clear that ALL politicians have some dirt on their hands, and, in the cutthroat world of Washington, nice guys truly finish last.

In a nutshell: Taut and fast-paced, Dirt grips the reader until the shocking ending. Not for those who believe in the purity of their candidates, however.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

Dear Ms. Langan: Write more NOW, please

The Missing
Sarah Langan

I don't know how I heard about The Missing, but if you're the one who mentioned the awesomeness that is this novel, then I owe you a debt of gratitude. Finally, a zombie novel that isn't cliched or melodramatic, that treats the subject matter seriously, and that...wait for it...is well written.

GASP.

Sarah Langan has pulled it off, and The Missing didn't leave my hands until I had finished it, which didn't take very long. The novel surrounds a small Maine community affected by an environmental catastrophe. Infection spreads when a third-grade teacher decides to take her class on a field trip to the abandoned town destroyed by said catastrophe. When a child is separated from the group, he unearths a particularly dangerous substance (although "substance" isn't quite accurate here, but we'll all just have to deal with my poor word choice). The rest, as they say, is history.

(In truth, this setup is the weakest part of the novel: that a teacher would take young children to such a place -- environmental education notwithstanding -- simply doesn't make sense. I could think of another way to lose a child in these woods, but still. I don't care. I loved The Missing, so I can easily overlook this flaw.)

It isn't long before the contamination spreads to the community at large. Bad things happen; people die, and many more wish they had. As this community is ravaged by the effects of this plague, several characters offer us their perspectives on the horror. Overall, this is an intelligent novel that doesn't treat its readers as idiots looking for only a good action scene, not that I'm pointing any fingers.

In a nutshell: The Missing is well written, fast paced, and entirely engrossing. I plan on picking up everything else Sarah Langan has written.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

Get your freak on

The Tutu Ballet
Sally Lee

Uh oh! Trouble's afoot (hardy har har) when Ms. Berry teaches ballet to a very diverse group of students in The Tutu Ballet. Instead of following her instructions, each student performs a "signature" move. Ms. Berry decides to make the best of the situation by organizing a ballet that highlights the talents of each of her students. As a result, Ms. Berry and her students perform the best -- or at least the most unique -- ballet ever.

As you could probably tell, The Tutu Ballet is all about individuality. Part of me was a little bothered by the message: Hey! I ranted. Real life isn't like that! You can't jump when you have to twirl! But then I realized this was a book for young children, and I suppose they can have their innocence for as long as possible.

The Tutu Ballet is probably best for really young children: the words, storyline, and pictures are very simple and engaging. I'd read The Tutu Ballet to children six years of age or younger. Or maybe four or five. Hell, we all know I'm bad at judging ages. I'll tell you what: if the kid's really smart, you should probably skip The Tutu Ballet. If, on the other hand, the child is a few bricks short of a load (not that there's anything wrong with that; I'm sure he's just a late bloomer, really) read on.

In a nutshell: Of course, The Tutu Ballet does teach the lesson that "if you want to do it, ef the rules," so caveat emptor and all that.

Bibliolatry Scale: 4 out of 6 stars

Long Live the King

Just After Sunset: Stories
Stephen King

My latest review for Pajiba has arrived. This time I enjoyed Just After Sunset, the latest collection of short stories by Stephen King.

I wasn't blown away by every single story in this collection, but I found the majority to be well-written, compelling pieces that solidifed my admiration for this master storyteller.

You can read the rest of my thoughts on the collection here.

In a nutshell: I'm still haunted by more than a few disturbing images from this collection. Well played, Mr. King.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

Weekly Geeks 16: Geek Interview

The Rising
Brian Keene

This week’s Weekly Geeks theme pairs two Geeks, who then interview one another about their latest read-but-unreviewed work.

I was paired with the lovely Florinda, who was nice enough to offer some thought-provoking questions for the horribly disappointing The Rising by Brian Keene.

Florinda's questions appear in italics; my answers follow.

The book is described as a "post-apocalyptic zombie thriller." What piqued your interest in reading it?

I always gear up for the fall and Halloween by reading what I call “spooky reads.” I’m not sure how I heard of The Rising, but zombies scare the heck out of me, so I knew I’d have to give it a go.

Please give a spoiler-free plot summary.

The dead have risen, although they’re unlike normal zombies. They walk, they talk, they think. Our main character is trying to stay alive and save his son, who is alive in another state. Along the way, he meets other survivors. Will they make it in time?

Please share a favorite passage or quote from the book.

Honestly, there wasn’t one. The writing was rather poor, and there were several cringe-worthy moments. The dialogue was stale and clichéd, especially when the "gangstas" talked. Cringe-worthy, indeed.

Could you identify a "big idea" or theme running through the book - what was it, and how is it reinforced in the storytelling?

I suppose a theme might be the importance of family and the negative effects of science (don’t worry; that wasn’t a spoiler). The storytelling was pretty simple and ultimately a letdown, so I can’t pretend that these themes were reinforced by anything other than the most obvious of methods.

Did you have a favorite character? What did you like about him/her?

Not really. There was a deaf boy, Worm, who was endearing, but I generally found the characters to be little more than flat, shallow stereotypes.

Have you read any books by this author before? Do you think you would read any more? Why/why not?

No, and I don’t plan to read any more by this author. The poor writing and grammar issues did it for me. In fact, I admit that I skimmed the second half. It was just getting too distressing, and I don’t mean the zombies.

I noticed that you use a 6-star rating scale for the books you review. How many stars will you give this book?

I’ll give this one 1.5 out of 6 stars, but only because of the innovative twist the author added to the zombie genre. I liked that he didn’t rehash the usual zombie story, but found a way to make it different.

I have to be honest - I don't read a lot of genre fiction, and have never been a big horror fan, so it was a challenge for me to come up with questions about this book, and I'm sure there are things that I didn't think to ask about! What do you think readers should know about this book that you haven't already answered?

Readers should know it was dissatisfying. With a better editor, the book might have fared better. As it was, The Rising came across as immature and sophomoric. What could have been an intelligent horror novel was instead a major disappointment.


In a nutshell: Great premise, poor execution

Bibliolatry Scale: 1.5 out of 6 stars

* * *

In turn, I interviewed Florinda about Jancee Dunn's Don't You Forget About Me; my questions appear in italics, and her responses follow.

Can you summarize the novel in one sentence?

You may be able to go home again, but you can't go back in time.

How would you rate the plot: predictable, or just right? Fast-paced, or slow?

The last part of the story was a bit predictable, but most of it was just right, and I enjoyed seeing how it unfolded. The pace was just about right too, considering that this is more of a character-driven than plot-oriented book.

Can any lessons be learned from reading Don't You Forget About Me?

Any lessons from the book are pretty common-sense ones:

• It can be comforting to take refuge in the past when your present life throws you an ugly curveball, but it's not healthy to try to become the person you were then - or think you were.
  
• You have to grow up eventually.
  
• Being voted "least changed" at your 20th high-school class reunion is not necessarily a good thing.

However, I would suggest that this book is better read for entertainment than enlightenment.

How would you describe the main characters? Overall, were they likable and/or sympathetic, or were they difficult to relate to? Which character could you relate to the most, and why?

Lillian, the first-person narrator, is by far the most developed character in the book, and in many ways that's appropriate; it's her story, after all. I liked her a lot - she was very real. She had her quirks and flaws, and in some areas she was still falling prey to her adolescent insecurities; and unfortunately, I could relate to that all too well. I found her mostly endearing, and sometimes irritating. She was rather lacking in self-awareness, and seemed to interact more with the people in her life as she perceived them - sometimes based on long-outdated images - rather than with who they really were; I think that's part of why many of the other characters didn't seem as dimensional to me. However, even the less likable characters came across as decent, everyday people, and that portrayal is one of Dunn's strengths as a writer.

I could also relate to Lillian's circumstances, particularly early in the story - finding herself somewhat adrift in her late 30s, after the unexpected end of a long relationship, and seeking comfort in the old and familiar. I have, unfortunately, been there myself. However, I've never been eager to attend one of my high-school reunions; I think I've missed four of them so far (10th, 15th, 20th, 25th).

Don't You Forget About Me is partially set in NYC. Would you say this is a "New York City novel"? (That is, is the city a major character?) How integral is the setting to the storyline?

The setting actually is pretty important to the story, but this is not a "New York City" novel; it's a "New Jersey suburbs" novel, mostly. Most of the action takes place during Lillian's sabbatical at her parents' house during the time period surrounding her reunion, and she's truly happy to be back in the 'burbs - running at the school track, visiting the mall, speeding down the Turnpike to the Shore. I was particularly amused when she extolled the virtues of suburban CVS drugstores compared to their city cousins.

The novel is described as being "steeped in '80s-era references." Did you find these references to be overdone and distracting, or just right? What was your favorite 80s reference, and why?

I'm a couple of years older than the author, and Lillian is a few years younger yet, but I pretty much came of age in the '80's, and I enjoyed those touches. They easily could have been overdone and taken into "camp" territory, but I feel that Dunn employed them pretty well. My favorite '80's-reference scene involved Lillian driving around in her dad's car, playing an old Rick Springfield tape and remembering watching General Hospital after school, back when he was on the show (the first time - he's back now, I've heard). That was a been-there, done-that moment.

How would you describe the author's writing style? Overall, is the prose easy to read, or difficult? Can you provide a sentence or two to highlight her style?

Dunn's writing experience is in journalism and nonfiction, and her first novel is written in a fairly straightforward style in keeping with that background. She writes with heart and humor, and she's good with dialogue.

From page 58, a passage that illustrates one reason I could identify well with Lillian:

Why was it, I wondered, that when you loved a song, the feelings it evoked were so profoundly personal? Pop music always reached me in such a specific, hidden place, and my reaction to certain songs was so unthinking, so visceral, that it was almost sexual. Linear thoughts vanished completely, replaced by images and moods that I could never rationally discuss even with close friends.

Finally, what would you rate this novel, and why? Would you read more by this author?

Rating: 3.75/5 (objectively, but because I find Jancee Dunn and her writing just so likable, I would give it a subjective 4/5). When I read But Enough About Me earlier this year, I said: "There are some books that make you feel like you're just hanging out with the writer - laughing, sharing stories, spending an enjoyable afternoon...Dunn is an engaging storyteller." I would definitely hang out with her again, and look forward to reading whatever she does next.

* * *

Thanks, Florinda!!

Fear is the mind killer

Kockroach
Tyler Knox

The tale I am about to relate is most undoubtedly true. The memory of it still manages to send chills down my spine, despite the fact that the following events happened over twenty years ago. The moment remains seared into my memory as though with a hot iron, driving into me a deep, irrational fear that is with me to this day.

It had been a day like any other. I sat, still blessedly innocent and unaware, playing in my bedroom. A light breeze moved the curtains and sounds of the city wafted gently through my window. I could hear the bleats and whirrs of passing cars, and the shouts of children (those who actually – I shudder at the thought – played outside) could also be heard.

Suddenly, there rose above this cacophony a sound that struck terror to my heart. It was a piercing shriek made only by those being gutted by a home invader, something that I vaguely feared, even at five years old.

My fears doubled when I realized that the shriek had come from my own home; worse still, it came from the basement, the physical distillation of all that I hated. However, neither of these facts scared me like the realization that the shrieker was none other than my mother herself.

Without thinking, I raced down the steps to do something, anything. I arrived to find a scene that I would never, ever forget.

My mother was not being gutted by a home invader. The reality was much simpler.

My mother had seen a cockroach.

Okay, okay, perhaps there had been more than one. Two, even – however, the swarm that I remember seething about her feet is probably just a figment of my imagination. However many there were, I’m sure they weren’t trying to remain in the light; knowing what I know now about roaches, I believe that once my mother had uncovered them they bolted for the nearest crevice.

This event would have fallen into the recesses of my memory were it not for the crippling fear of cockroaches that embedded itself deep into my psyche from that moment forward. It wasn’t long before I found myself emitting the same high-pitched shrieks whenever I happened to glimpse any small insect, even when at a distance.

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I mention this story because it underscores the trepidation I felt upon undertaking Tyler Knox’s Kockroach. My stomach churned upon opening the book and finding the image of a cockroach in the corner of each page. As I read, this image appeared to move, and several times I stopped reading to brush wildly at my skin, trying to make the heebie-jeebies disappear.

I, however, triumphed. Not only did I finish Kockroach, but I loved it. In fact, I think that I might even have come to love the little bastards. Okay, okay, this little bastard. Well, so long as he stays the hell away from me.

Kockroach is Kafka’s Metamorphosis reversed. One day, a cockroach wakes up to find he is a man. Disconcerted because he cannot fit into his usual crevice, he slowly learns how to operate his new body. Soon he’s living on the streets and eating out of dumpsters. As he becomes more skilled at using his human body, Kockroach finds himself – where else? – in the criminal underworld, with a sidekick named, appropriately enough, Mite. Lacking emotion or conscience, Kockroach is able to rise quickly though the criminal ranks and soon turns to – just as fittingly – politics.

But don't let the gimmick fool you: Kockroach is more than just a riff on Kafka. First, it’s damn funny, especially as Kockroach learns to behave as a human. (Before he learns how humans eat, he regurgitates his food to give it another go. And why not?) There are plenty of other examples of the wickedly sharp humor boasted by Kockroach, but humor isn’t all it has going for it. It’s also pretty damn smart.

In Kockroach, Knox (the pseudonym of William Lashner) deftly blends his knowledge of the arthropod with his knowledge of the human. At the beginning, Kockroach, firmly entrenched in the present, does not think beyond his current situation. He feels neither remorse nor guilt, but only does what needs to be done to survive and to fuel the twin desires of greed and fear. Soon, however, he learns words and with them come thoughts, and in no time at all he can remember the past and plan for the future. Of course, as his words increase, so do his worries.

In a nutshell: A little off-putting at first, but truly an awesome novel. Kockroach's evolution from cockroach to...well, a cockroach in a human body is smart, engaging, and absolutely unforgettable.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5.5 out of 6 stars

Le Guin and the Omelas

I've been on a cleaning jag lately, and while organizing some papers I found a note to myself to read a short story by Ursula Le Guin. Hoping it was available online (and, quite frankly, looking for a reason to take a break), I found myself in luck -- and stopped cleaning immediately to read it.

The story, "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," was short but very powerful, and I'm still thinking about it now, almost 24 hours later. Omelas is, in a sense, a utopia, although Le Guin ultimately proves that the only place a utopia can be found is no place at all.

If you haven't yet had the pleasure of reading "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," then you may go here to read it in full.

I'd love to hear your thoughts after you've read the story. What did you think of the terrible paradox of Omelas? Could you live with this "terrible justice of reality"? Or would you be among those who "walk ahead into the darkness"?

There was something so pleasant about that phase

Shutter Island
Dennis Lehane

It's 1954 and US Marshal Teddy Daniels heads to Shutter Island, just off the coast of Boston. He and his new partner, Chuck, are assigned to locate a missing person. It's not just any missing person's case, however: this one comes with a twist.

Shutter Island is home to the Ashecliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and the missing person in question is Rachel Solando, an extremely violent and delusional individual who murdered her three children. Her escape, however, is right out of a movie: she escaped from a locked room and a hospital full of employees onto the rocky, uneven terrain of the island -- all while wearing no shoes. Repeated searches for Solando turn up nothing, and time is of the essence. A hurricane is bearing down on the island, leaving communication and retreat impossible.

That something is not-quite-right on the island is clear from the beginning. We follow the two Marshals as they investigate the events preceding and following Solando's escape. They face quite a challenge, as well: in addition to the improbable nature of the patient's escape, the Marshals are often stonewalled by the doctors and staff. They know the hospital specializes in experimental treatments, although the nature of these experiments is unknown. Soon the investigation changes from "What, exactly, happened to Rachel Solando?" to "What, exactly, is happening on Shutter Island?"

It takes awhile to unravel the secret, but when the truth came out, I was satisfied. I knew something wasn't kosher, but I didn't see the ending coming, always a good sign. Is the ending contrived, as many have said? I don't think so -- not any more than the usual mystery. I left Shutter Island quite pleased with the experience.

Many argue Shutter Island is the weakest of Lehane's novels (those who say so feel that Mystic River is his strongest), but, as this was my introduction to Lehane, I had no preconceived notions about the quality of his work. I didn't find the plot implausible as many did, since it's clear from the beginning that the hospital deals with experimental treatments; in that context, that which would normally be unbelievable becomes believable (I won't say more so as not to spoil the fun).

In a nutshell: Overall, Shutter Island was an enthralling way to pass a day. It may not be perfect, but it was a fast, thrilling read that kept me glued to my chair until I finished it. I'll definitely read more by Dennis Lehane.

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars

Hell on Earth

Personally, I'd rather stab myself in the eyeball than use a port-a-potty. I don't care if I'm the first person to use it. There is no level of cleanliness that would ever convince me to step foot inside one of these foul chambers. As far as I'm concerned, they are tiny vestibules of torture, just waiting to trap an innocent asshole inside its gaping maul of death.

Stephen King's short story (recently published in the latest issue of McSweeney's, which is where I found it) "A Very Tight Place" does nothing to dispel this view. It's about a man who...you guessed it...gets trapped inside of one of these devilish contraptions. The story features nary a ghost, creature, or any other supernatural force -- and yet, it's one of the most harrowing pieces I've read in a long time. It's also quite funny, as our main character is literally reborn due to his ordeal, which he handles a lot better than I would. (For the record, I would handle it with a lot of uncontrollable crying and screaming. There'd probably be a lot of vomiting also.)

"A Very Tight Place" will appear in his collection Just After Sunset, which will be released this fall. In the meantime, you can find it in the current issue of McSweeney's, which also features stories by Larry Smith, Jim Shepard, Ashlee Adams, Liz Mandrell, and Mikel Jollett.