Book Review: The Care and Feeding of Ravenously Hungry Girls

I found the title and cover of this book alluring. I liked the red-flowered background and the interwoven faces. Although parts of the story were disturbing, it was a fairly riveting read. Indeed, I became thoroughly absorbed toward the end, when one character's fate hung in the balance. Even though I don't fit the intended demographic (African-American women), I enjoyed watching the characters navigate hurt and healing.

In The Care and Feeding of Ravenously Hungry Girls, each sister battles personal demons. After their mother died and their father left to evangelize the lost, the girls had to raise themselves. Althea, the oldest, now finds herself incarcerated, along with her husband, for defrauding the community with disaster relief schemes that lined their own pockets. Viola (how do you pronounce that name??) fights an eating disorder. Lillian, traumatized by emotional abuse from her brother, tries to keep everyone safe.

While the sister carried the main thrust of the novel, I was more drawn to the stories of Althea's teenage daughters, Baby Vi (is it V-eye or V-ee?) and Kim. Because of mother-daughter friction, Kim was the whistle-blower that sent her own mother to jail. How does a teenager navigate the weight of guilt for an act that, although driven by spite, brought justice? Kim's character kept me engaged when I might have set the book aside.

The skewed portrayal of the religious characters disturbed me most. Both father and son are ministers, yet act as monsters. The father is distant and more concerned about the souls of others than the care of his own children. Moreover, the son commits horrific abuse against the youngest sister, left in his care during his father's evangelism crusades, yet expresses no remorse for his past actions. The message comes through loud and clear: religious people are hypocrites and the other characters (including a woman incarcerated for supposedly cutting out her boyfriend's tongue) are saints.

Still, the story provided much to ponder: mother-daughter relationships, sister relationships, guilt and forgiveness, and the bonds of family ties. This was a well-written debut novel. It is tricky to tell a story with several narrators, yet Anissa Gray handled the challenge. I won't attempt another book by this author (our perspectives on life are too dissimilar), but fully believe she will write more books.

Book Review: Cream Puff Murder

I don't enjoy writing negative reviews. Here, I feel it is my fault, because I knew my patience with this series was waning, yet I bargained on another installment (Book 11 in the series) because it promised a clean read. So, for the positives: Cream Puff Murder was, as expected, a clean read; the book delivered many tasty recipes (I won't try any since I'm on a ketogenic diet); the plot progression allowed for step-by-step elimination of suspects; and the writing was consistent enough to keep the reader engaged.

Here is the Hannah Swensen formula in a nutshell: condescending small town baker steps in to solve a murder mystery while whipping up a dozen new recipes at her cookie shop. Police save her at the last moment despite a killer determined to eliminate her.

The love triangle, that once kept me reading, strangulated in this episode. Mike has proven to be so far from a likely candidate I'm surprised Hannah is even still considering his proposal. Why doesn't she simply marry mild-mannered, dependable Norman and end the tired plot device?

I can only recommend this series to women who are seeking interesting new recipes to bake (for the masses, as none of the recipes make less than four dozen), who hail from Minnesota, who relish simple cozy mysteries, and who desire extraneous tidbits of information alongside detective activity. As for me, I think I'm done. I'm sure there are women out there who enjoy this cozy mystery series (or else how would the author have published two dozen books), but I will seek extensively to find some other clean fare for my treadmill sessions.

Book Review: An Elegant Defense

This heft of a book (over 400 pages) was quite challenging, but I found it fascinating. An Elegant Defense: The Extraordinary New Science of the Immune System: A Tale in Four Lives is both scientific exposition and narrative explanation. Author Matt Richtel, a Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times journalist, introduces the history of scientific advancement in immunology. Heady stuff, but Richtel has a keen eye for rendering it in laymen's terms. By pairing the science with stories, he introduces concepts, the bones, so to speak, and fleshes them out with the skin layers.

Our complex immune system plays a pivotal role in our lives. I know I take it for granted. I assume that when I encounter a virus, my body will kick in to fight off the intruder. The complexity is staggering and, equally, astounding. This elegant defense against the attacks of illness is magnificent to behold. So many perplexing processes: vaccines, transplants, inflammation and fever, the overuse of antibiotics, our need to encounter germs, the influence of the microbiome and sleep, cancer, how wounds heal, autoimmune disorders, etc. Like I said, fascinating!

So, who are the four individuals? One is a man whose immune system valiantly fights off cancer again and again. Another is a man defying the threat of HIV. Two are women, with autoimmune disorders, seeking to regain balance when their immune systems kick into overdrive. Through their stories, you will glimpse scientific discoveries and meet numerous doctors who have devoted their lives to the study of the immune system. You will learn of hybrid mice, injected with human DNA. Even though the book dips into the deep waters of scientific concepts, a translator is at your side. Prepare to marvel at the complexity of how the body works.

My Book Nook

For Mother's Day, I received three lovely gifts (each requested, but still ... thoughtful) and three lovely cards (yes, my husband purchased a card for me from ... the dog). One was a walking journal, Afoot and Lighthearted, that sounded intriguing. I usually walk before I work on my novels as it allows me to ponder plot progression. Even though I am currently writing non-fiction, I hope to get back into the walking habit once the weather stabilizes. If the weather turns ugly, well, my second gift was a new purple umbrella.

The final gift is finally on the wall (far trickier to apply than the instructions implied), completing my small guest room book nook:

Here's a close-up of the words:

I discovered the bench on Craigslist, and though it didn't fit the specifications I'm looking for in a front hall bench, I couldn't pass - especially at $20.

It isn't as comfortable as the old recliner I had in that spot, for reading, but the guest room recliner and sofa went to Bryce when he moved into his own place after finishing college a year ago. Even if I never sit there to read, I love my book nook!

Book Review: Listen to the Marriage

Listen to the Marriage by John Jay Osborn is a book I had planned to read regardless of whether it ended up being a book club selection. I'm so glad they chose the book, though, because I am looking forward to the group discussion. Still, I'm not sure about my opinion. I considered the book well done. It blew by quickly because I was fully engaged with the characters and their dilemmas. I loved the opportunity to be a fly on the wall in the middle of marriage counseling sessions - someone else's marriage counseling sessions.

Although those days are long gone for me, I did a stint myself. My husband and I separated for a year and a half during my oldest son's toddler years (two decades ago). During that time, we not only fought our way through marital counseling, but we each had individual sessions, and I also took part in group therapy. I suppose my own experience colors my feelings about this book. I was dissatisfied with the ending. It felt incomplete. I wondered whether the characters would have ended up in the final circumstances as they played out in the book.

The whole book takes place in the confines of Sandy's marriage counseling office. The couple, Gretchen and Steve, come to sessions hoping to fix the rift caused by problems with trust, communication, honesty and fidelity. Although Sandy's goal is to listen to the marriage, she is not a passive bystander asking "how do you feel?" (though she uses that question from time to time). I've had those counselors and they accomplish very little in opening your eyes to the internal problems that have led to the external conflicts. The counselor who assisted us in weaving our marriage back together was hard-nosed and intense, even confrontational. Sandy plays a similar role. She prods the two to look at themselves and each other with fresh eyes and to own up to their own part in the dance of their partnership. While I didn't agree with some of Sandy's assessments, it was interesting to watch the couple bend and weave, punch and deflect.

Although I cannot nail down my exact opinion, I can say I enjoyed the read. It is the kind of book that leaves you thinking about it for a while after you've put it down. It will be an excellent sounding board for discussion. While the book is not likely to solve your own marital issues, should you have them (after all, it is not an application-based book), it will give you a bird's-eye view of someone else's issues. You might just come away eager to listen more to your own marriage and what it is saying.

My Turn(s) at the BMV

Even when you think you are going armed with all the documents you need, somehow a trip to the BMV leads to aneurysm-worthy frustration. I'm not sure why, when they sent the e-mail reminding me that my license was expiring soon, they didn't bother to inform me about various changes on the horizon. Still, I learned of them.

Our address has changed. We are in the same farmhouse as before, yet the community decided to run the street name from town down to our part, that used to be a county road. It has been an unnecessary hassle all around. It disrupted our mail. They told us to put two different addresses on our mailbox. We had to notify various institutions (and continue to recognize more places we forgot to update). I'm not sure what it accomplished for the town, but it has created undue stress for us.

Thus, I was feeling confident, when I received the BMV notification telling me I could renew on-line unless I had an address change. An address change required two official computer-generated documents bearing my name and the new address. Plus, I needed to take them to the nearest BMV facility (ten minute's drive away). I checked Google and determined that the least traffic occurs on Tuesday mornings.

Thus, I set out yesterday with my two address-confirming documents and my current license. I took a ticket and waited ten minutes for my turn. At the desk, the clerk asked if I wanted to update my license with the new address or if I wanted a "Real ID." Apparently, as of October 1st of 2020, you will need this "Real ID" to board a plane or train (your regular driver's license is insufficient - not real enough, I guess). Of course, I didn't want to pay the fees twice, so I asked how I go about securing this "Real ID." To obtain it, I needed to not only bring the two address-confirming documents but also a birth certificate and a valid passport. The form she handed me showed I needed my social security card, too.

Off I went (10 minute drive home). My husband dug out my birth certificate and S.S. card while I picked through our family passports and quickly pulled one with my photo. Another 10 minute drive back to the BMV; another 10 minute wait in line. I approached the desk, and the woman looked at my passport and declared, "This is an expired passport. Even if it had been a valid passport, I would have required a marriage license because this bears your maiden name." Another 10 minute drive home, a frustrated replacement of my college passport for my current passport (though the mistake was mine, the frustration loomed regardless), another 10 minute drive back to the BMV, another ticket, another 10 minute wait and I approached a third time (thinking in my head, "if three times is not the charm, then I'm outta here for today"). Next I had to field perplexing questions (Is your house within the city limits now? I don't know if that's the reason they changed the address. And some other question about alternate polling places - I want to continue voting in town at the church location I normally use.)

By the time the woman snapped my photo, my mood is obvious and will legally represent me for the next several years:

Of course, I am still counting my blessings. The nearest BMV could have been twice as far. The lines could have taken twice as long (they try to move it at a clip, even calling out from time to time how many patrons are being served in how many minutes). I do not have to return before October 2020 to amend the driver's license to a Real ID and I am armed with all the information when my husband has to update his license with our new address. If I am lucky, I will not darken those doors again for at least a year. (Then, I must take Trevor to get his license - that will be stress-inducing all on its own, no matter how many times I trek back and forth from house to BMV retrieving unexpected documents - ha!) When I return, I will be sure to bring every possible official document known to man and will be prepared to sign in blood. 😉

Book Review: To Kill a Mockingbird - Highly Recommend

I selected this beloved classic, To Kill a Mockingbird, in audio form (read by Sissy Spacek) confident of a clean read (it involves claims of rape, but doesn't include gratuitous sexual content). I hadn't re-read the book since high school. It was a wonderful listening experience, and it fully deserves its status as a timeless tale. The book offers deep truths with intensity.

Indeed, I'm not quite sure why my son's former English teacher selected the book Monster, instead of this rich read (far more to glean here). But even if she had selected this book, she might have taught it with an agenda. In a comment on another blog, I read that it is being taught in schools as propaganda, promoting Scout as a transgender character when she was merely a tomboy. Not every tomboy is a boy trapped in a girl's body. I was a tomboy, growing up very close to my two older brothers, but even when uncomfortable in dresses, society never encouraged me to identify myself as transgender.

I grieve for individuals who struggle with identity issues. My friend's daughter is in the process of transitioning to a boy, and my friend is adamantly expressing her continued love for her child - something I applaud. But is it right to take this classic and use it as a bully pulpit for transgender normalization? Is it a slippery slope from loving and acknowledging those who struggle to encouraging such confusion by interpreting every girl character who prefers to wear jeans as one who wishes to change their God-given sexual orientation? This approach is nothing new. I'm sure plenty of Christians read their Bible in a way that merely validates their preconceived perspectives, but it still saddens me.

The back cover proclaims that librarians recently voted To Kill a Mockingbird as "the best novel of the twentieth century." I loved the characters, the lessons, the struggles and the solutions. I admired the author's strong voice. The pacing, leading to the final moment of conflict between the children and Atticus's opponent, was perfect. If you haven't read this classic, you need to remedy that, and soon. If you read the book years ago in school, give it another read. You won't be sorry.

Book Review: Inheritance

My college roommate, Elizabeth, knew from early on that she was adopted. She wrote to me a year ago, saying she was searching for her birth mother. Thankfully, she found her and learned of a few half-siblings. Another friend from DeKalb, Jackie, sought DNA results and discovered, quite unexpectedly, that she was adopted. After seeing Elizabeth's favorable review of Dani Shapiro's Inheritance, on Goodreads, I put my name on the hold list at the library. The author's experience was more in line with Jackie's story.

Dani Shapiro grew up in a Jewish home, deeply rooted in Jewish traditions and identity. Yet, people always told her she didn't look Jewish. When her husband sought further information about his genetic background, she submitted a vial of saliva, expecting nothing unusual. However, the results revealed her father was not her birth father and her half-sister was no relation at all. Dani was one of the lucky ones. With minimal information about a first cousin, she managed to locate and contact her birth father. He had been a medical student and contributed sperm to the Farris Institute in Pennsylvania, where her parents had gone for help in getting pregnant. Suddenly, Dani saw a face that resembled her own. It upended her world and her identity. Shapiro tells the story of contacting the doctor who provided half of her genes. He could have simply ignored her letter, but he reached out to her.

The memoir, well-written and intriguing, offered so much to think about in terms of identity and medical ethics. The book was due back to the library in a few days, yet I had no difficulty quickly consuming it. Once again, it provided an excellent opportunity to step into the shoes of another and walk a mile. My face resembles the faces of my parents and siblings and I have always been secure in my identity as a member of the Gorton family. I could ask, "What must it be like to grow up with lingering doubt about your identity, and to find, at age 54 (the age I will be in three weeks' time) that everything you thought was true was a lie." It must have been traumatic for someone who identified as a Jew, one of God's chosen people, to learn of Gentile roots. Yet, in the end, she is still the daughter of the ones who raised her in the traditions of their religion. She can simply identify with two families.

Book Review: Letters Never Sent

During my recent trip to visit my parents in Florida, I sought a book from my own coffers because I am always loathe to risk losing a library book. This book, Letters Never Sent: One Woman's Journey from Hurt to Wholeness, by Ruth E. Van Reken, has sat on my shelf for years. It was a perfect read for a journey - easy to consume in bite-sized pieces amid distractions. The book begins in Nigeria in 1951, just as the author is being sent off to boarding school by her missionary parents. With each subsequent letter, Ruth outlines the difficulties missionary kids face (loneliness, anger, insecurity and guilt). I could well relate, even though my parents never left for foreign soil to serve God. This was an honest, reflective tale.

I appreciated the author's willingness to share a glimpse into the heart and soul of her struggles. We all face different losses and wounds. Ruth's story provides hope on the other side of her personal pain. I wanted to leave the book with my mother. It was a tale she would have enjoyed reading. Instead, I shared the story with her in snippets and brought the book back home. Perhaps I will offer it up to a church library somewhere. My copy deserves further use.