FICTION 1. '61 Hours,' Lee Child 2. 'Storm Prey,' John Sandford 3. 'Dead in the Family,' Charlaine Harris 4....
Tim O'Brien has been thinking lately about My Lai how those two words still haunt America, even as they've lost meaning to so many Americans....
Ah, summer. The heat. The humidity. The air sometimes so suffocatingly thick you think you're walking through a bouffant....
The Angel's Game is Carlos Ruiz Zafon's exercise in spinning the reader through a Faustian labyrinth filled with gothic mystery and tragic romance. This is sumptuous and dark fairy tale writing, with some serious thoughts on good and evil and the search for the human soul. Many memorable characters search for solace in this world; sadly, they, along with the reader, don't find much comfort or clarity in a disappointing conclusion that is more shadow than revelation.
Guest Blogger: Susan DiMickeleWhen the word got out that I was writing a book, I always got the same question: How are you ever going to find the time?I resented this question each time it was asked. Why couldn’t I write a book in the busiest season of my life?But deep down, I had to admit the question wasn’t completely unfounded. After all, I’m a mother of three young children and I'm trying hard to cultivate a healthy marriage, a demanding career, and a stable home. My day job is even known to monopolize my life—as a partner at a large law firm, all the spare time I wish I had gets sucked up in billable hours, client meetings, and legal seminars. Oh, and I forgot to mention that I teach Sunday School on the side and try to stay connected to my friends and somewhat large extended family in between. And I love to cook and entertain guests in my home, and I’m known to devour every book I can get my hands on whenever I can find the time to read.I know, my life sounds exhausting. Which is why most of my friends and family couldn’t understand why I wanted to add writing to the mix. Don’t you already have enough on your plate? Are you crazy?Maybe so. I guess I’m crazy about writing. Why else would I give up sleep and cram another task into my already jam-packed schedule? Those of us who love to write don’t pursue it because it’s the logical thing to do. We write for passion. We write for love. We live for our dreams. And one of my dreams was to write a book. Just because I’m a busy mom and self-diagnosed multi-taskaholic, did that mean I had to put my dreams on hold? Surely, I could find the time to write, couldn’t I?I’ve had visions of writing at the top of a mountain in a remote cabin. Alone, of course. I’m sitting on the porch with a double tall nonfat latte (yes, there’...
This is probably one of the few times that you will hear me say that I believe the movie will be better than the book. And in this case I think that it will be vastly better.
Never Let Me Go was one of those books that I just didn’t get. I read it pre-book blogging, when I was searching for a book to read with my book club. I had recently re-read Kazuo Ishiguro’s A Pale View of Hills, a novel that I had loved in college but had not loved so much on re-reading. I no longer wanted to suggest it for book club, but thought I might be able o go with the same author. I knew that Ishiguro had written the book upon which the movie of the same title, Remains of the Day, was based, so I figured that another of his books would be good as well.
I ended up having to pick something entirely different for my book club after reading Never Let Me Go. It’s a quick read, but as mysterious as it tried to be, I didn’t understand that there was a big secret waiting to be discovered. I guessed what was going on within the first 50 pages of reading, and watching the story dragged out over the course of the book was rather dull reading for me. I also thought the dialogue was simplistic, cold and not very deep- the characters were ones for which I felt very little. After blogging awhile I came to see that this book is almost universally loved and appreciated for its depth and insights. I am in the distinct minority with my dislike of it.
Now just the few minutes of this trailer seems to put on display everything that was missing for me...
I am pleased to welcome you all to my blog for my portion of the Nerds Heart YA tournament! Today Katie from Read What You Know and I are deciding between Purple Heart by Patricia McCormick and In the Path of Falling Objects by Andrew Smith.
Warning: This post is a bit on the long side. It contains two reviews with our final decision at the end. Enjoy!
Purple Heart by Patricia McCormick is told from the point of view of Matt Duffy, an eighteen-year-old Army private currently serving in Iraq, and when the story begins he finds himself in a military hospital with a brain injury. Although Matt is awarded a Purple Heart for his bravery in the situation that landed him in the hospital, he doesn’t feel so brave. His last memory from the day of the injury is watching a young Iraqi boy with whom he had gotten close, Ali, get shot and killed. He can’t figure out what exactly happened to Ali, but he feels that somehow he was involved in his death. Matt recovers enough to be sent back into combat with his squad, and it is then, surrounded by his best friends, when he starts to put the pieces back together of what exactly happened the day he was injured and little Ali was killed.
Purple Heart really, really got to me emotionally. I have a personal connection to the book because my younger brother Alex is currently serving our country in the U.S. Marine Corps, and I kept picturing him in Matt’s situati...
Jose Saramago, the Portuguese novelist who won the Nobel Prize for literature, has died, his publisher announced Friday. He was 87.
Saramago's works include "Blindness," "The Cave," "All the Names," "The Stone Raft" and "Seeing." The Nobel committee cited Saramago's restless need to invent wholly new
worlds in his fiction when they presented him the award for literature
in 1998. Saramago, the Nobel citation reads, "who with parables sustained by
imagination, compassion and irony continually enables us once
again to apprehend an elusory reality." It concludes:Saramago's idiosyncratic development of his
own resonant style of fiction gives him a high standing. For all
his independence, Saramago invokes tradition in a way that in the
current state of things can be described as radical. His oeuvre
resembles a series of projects, with each one more or less
disavowing the others but all involving a new attempt to come to
grips with an elusory reality.
Saramago was born into a relatively poor family in Portugal; at age 12 his parents shifted him from academic classes to technical school so he could learn a trade. He became a mechanic for two years, and went through a series of jobs, landin...