2019 Year End Survey and Top Picks List

I am very pleased with my reading in 2019. I surpassed my Goodreads goal of 50 books, reading more than I have in any given year since 2007, and ended the year with some wonderful books. I didn't listen to as many audio books as I did last year, but I received a wireless headset for Christmas and am already noticing more listening time during the day. The only ebooks I read were book club selections and those numbers probably won't go much higher in 2020 since I prefer to read books in print. I hope to continue knocking books off my ARC stacks; I have so many dating back several years. I read a ton of nonfiction (thanks partly to the Nonfiction November Challenge), but not much in the way of sci-fi or classics. I didn't have a lot of 5-star books and I'm surprised at the number of average (3/5 stars) and fair (2/5) books on my list. I may have been a bit more stingy with higher ratings this year. OK, enough chatter. Here are my stats for 2019:

Books Read: 55
Print:  45
Audio:  8
Ebooks:  2
ARCs: 5
Fiction:  29
Nonfiction:  17
Mystery:  9
Science Fiction:  0
Classics:  1
Poetry:  1
Teen/YA:  0
Childrens:  1
Memoirs:  11
Graphic Novels:  1
Rereads:  4
Male Authors:  13
Female Authors:  42
New Authors:  21
From My Stacks:  24
Borrowed:  31

Ratings:

5 stars:  6
4.5 stars:  11
4 stars:  17
3.5 stars:  3
3 stars:  10
2 stars:  8

Top Picks of 2019

Maybe You Should Talk To Someone by Lori Gottlieb (5/5)

Henry, Himself by Stewart O'Nan (5/5)

Night of Miracles by Elizabeth Berg (5/5)

How the Light Gets In by Louise Penny (5/5)

Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny (5/5)

Becoming by Michelle Obama (5/5)

The Dreamers by Karen Thompson Walker (4.5/5)

Devotion by Dani Shapiro (4.5/5)

Ask Again, Yes by Mary Beth Keane (4.5/5)

A Ladder to the Sky by John Boyne (4.5/5)

My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She's Sorry by Fredrik Backman (4.5/5)

Kitchen Yarns by Ann Hood (4.5/5)

The Brutal Telling by Louise Penny (4.5/5)

After You by Jojo Moyes (4.5/5)

Whiskey When We're Dry by John Larison (4.5/5)

A Rule Against Murder by Louise Penny (4.5/5)

The Cruelest Month by Louise Penny (4.5/5)


#1 Book of 2019: Henry, Himself

Favorite Book Group Selection: Whiskey When We're Dry

Favorite Audio Book: Maybe You Should Talk To Someone

Favorite Mystery: How the Light Gets In

Favorite Series: Chief Inspector Armand Gamache/Three Pines - Check out all the Louise Penny books on my list this year!

Click here to see all the books I read in 2019. I've included links to all my 2019 reviews, as well.

The Dreamers

The Dreamers by Karen Thompson Walker
Science Fiction
2019 Random House
Finished on December 28, 2019
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

An ordinary town is transformed by a mysterious illness that triggers perpetual sleep in this mesmerizing novel from the New York Times bestselling author of The Age of Miracles.

“This book is stunning.”—Emily St. John Mandel, author of Station Eleven

One night in an isolated college town in the hills of Southern California, a first-year student stumbles into her dorm room, falls asleep—and doesn’t wake up. She sleeps through the morning, into the evening. Her roommate, Mei, cannot rouse her. Neither can the paramedics, nor the perplexed doctors at the hospital. When a second girl falls asleep, and then a third, Mei finds herself thrust together with an eccentric classmate as panic takes hold of the college and spreads to the town. A young couple tries to protect their newborn baby as the once-quiet streets descend into chaos. Two sisters turn to each other for comfort as their survivalist father prepares for disaster.

Those affected by the illness, doctors discover, are displaying unusual levels of brain activity, higher than has ever been recorded before. They are dreaming heightened dreams—but of what?

Written in luminous prose, The Dreamers is a breathtaking and beautiful novel, startling and provocative, about the possibilities contained within a human life—in our waking days and, perhaps even more, in our dreams.

I loved Walker's debut novel, The Age of Miracles (reviewed here), and was thrilled when I learned she had written another book. It was published at the beginning of the year, but I delayed getting a copy until I knew I could devote my full attention to the book without any interruptions. Life got busy with travel and illnesses and before I knew it, a year had passed since I first read about The Dreamers. A few days before Christmas, I borrowed a copy from the library and started reading on Christmas Eve. I was completely sucked in from the opening lines and had I not been busy preparing our Christmas dinner, I could have easily spent the entire day reading from cover to cover, it was that compelling. The further along I read, the more curious I became about the cause and ultimate outcome of the pandemic. Eager as I was to have my questions answered, yet choosing to savor the book as long as I could, the final pages came far too quickly. Sadly, the denouement was anticlimactic and left me with too many unanswered questions. In spite of this quibble, I loved this riveting story and look forward to more by Karen Thompson Walker.

Maybe You Should Talk To Someone

Maybe You Should Talk To Someone: A Therapist, Her Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed by Lori Gottlieb
Nonfiction - Memoir
2019 Audible Studios
Read by Brittany Pressley
Finished on December 26, 2019
Rating: 5/5 (Excellent!)

Publisher's Blurb:

From a New York Times best-selling author, psychotherapist, and national advice columnist, a hilarious, thought-provoking, and surprising new book that takes us behind the scenes of a therapist's world--where her patients are looking for answers (and so is she).

One day, Lori Gottlieb is a therapist who helps patients in her Los Angeles practice. The next, a crisis causes her world to come crashing down. Enter Wendell, the quirky but seasoned therapist in whose office she suddenly lands. With his balding head, cardigan, and khakis, he seems to have come straight from Therapist Central Casting. Yet he will turn out to be anything but.

As Gottlieb explores the inner chambers of her patients' lives -- a self-absorbed Hollywood producer, a young newlywed diagnosed with a terminal illness, a senior citizen threatening to end her life on her birthday if nothing gets better, and a twenty-something who can't stop hooking up with the wrong guys -- she finds that the questions they are struggling with are the very ones she is now bringing to Wendell.

With startling wisdom and humor, Gottlieb invites us into her world as both clinician and patient, examining the truths and fictions we tell ourselves and others as we teeter on the tightrope between love and desire, meaning and mortality, guilt and redemption, terror and courage, hope and change.

Maybe You Should Talk to Someone is revolutionary in its candor, offering a deeply personal yet universal tour of our hearts and minds and providing the rarest of gifts: a boldly revealing portrait of what it means to be human, and a disarmingly funny and illuminating account of our own mysterious lives and our power to transform them.

I'm not a big fan of self-improvement books, but this book kept popping up on fellow readers' blogs and I finally decided to give it a try. Honestly, I expected a lot of pyscho-babble and was sure I'd wind up calling it quits after a few chapters, but I was quickly sucked in and listened at every opportunity. What a compelling and enlightening book! The reader (Brittany Pressley) does an outstanding job conveying Gottlieb's emotions and I found myself laughing out loud, as well as feeling a tug at my heartstrings more than once. I enjoyed her personal anecdotes as much as those dealing with her clients and their therapy sessions. The audio is almost 14 1/2 hours in length, but I didn't want it to end! I borrowed the print edition from the library so I could make note of some favorite passages, but this may be a book to buy for a future reread. Highly recommend!

On Grief:

I have sat with people dealing with all kinds of grief--the loss of a child, the loss of a parent, the loss of a spouse, the loss of a sibling, the loss of a marriage, the loss of a dog, the loss of a job, the loss of an identity, the loss of a dream, the loss of a body part, the loss of youth. I've sat with people whose faces close in on themselves, whose eyes become slits, whose open mouths resemble the image in Munch's The Scream. I've sat with patients who describe their grief as "monstrous" and "unbearable"; one patient, quoting something she had heard, said it made her feel "alternately numb and in excruciating pain."

On Resilience:

I tell John what's known as the psychological immune system. Just as your physiological immune system helps your body recover from physical attack, your brain helps you recover from psychological attack. A series of studies by the researcher Daniel Gilbert at Harvard found that in responding to challenging life events from the devastating (becoming handicapped, losing a loved one) to the difficult (a divorce, an illness), people do better than they anticipate. They believe that they'll never laugh again, but they do. They think they'll never love again, but they do. They go grocery shopping and see movies; they have sex and dance at weddings; they overeat on Thanksgiving and go on diets in the New Year--the day-to-day returns. John's reaction while playing with Grace wasn't unusual; it was the norm.

There's another related concept that I share with John: impermanence. Sometimes in their pain, people believe that the agony will last forever. But feelings are actually more like weather systems--they blow in and they blow out. Just because you feel sad this minute or this hour or this day doesn't mean you'll feel that way in ten minutes or this afternoon or next week. Everything you feel--anxiety, elation, anguish--blows in and out again. For John, on Gabe's birthday, on certain holidays, or simply running in the background, there will always be pain. Hearing a certain song in the car or having a fleeting memory might even plunge him into momentary despair. But another song, or another memory, might minutes or hours later bring intense joy.

About the Author:

Lori Gottlieb is a psychotherapist and New York Times bestselling author of Maybe You Should Talk To Someone, which is being adapted for TV with Eva Longoria. In addition to her clinical practice, she writes The Atlantic's weekly "Dear Therapist" advice column and contributes regularly to the New York Times. She is sought-after in media such as The Today Show, Good Morning America, CBS This Morning, CNN, and NPR's "Fresh Air."

Lucky Us

Lucky Us by Amy Bloom

Fiction

2014 Random House

Finished on December 23, 2019

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

"My father's wife died. My mother said we should drive down to his place and see what might be in it for us."

Brilliantly written, deeply moving, fantastically funny, Lucky Us introduces us to Eva and Iris. Disappointed by their families, Iris, the hopeful star, and Eva, the sidekick, journey across 1940s America in search of fame and fortune. Iris's ambitions take them from small-town Ohio to an unexpected and sensuous Hollywood, across the America of Reinvention in a stolen station wagon, to the jazz clubs and golden mansions of Long Island.

With their friends in high and low places, Iris and Eva stumble and shine through a landscape of big dreams, scandals, betrayals, and war. Filled with gorgeous writing, memorable characters, and surprising events, Lucky Us is a thrilling and resonant novel about success and failure, good luck and bad, the creation of a family, and the pleasures and inevitable perils of family life. From Brooklyn's beauty parlors to London's West End, a group of unforgettable people love, lie, cheat, and survive in this story of our fragile, absurd, heroic species.

What an odd story with quirky characters. Lucky Us is the first book I've read by Amy Bloom and I'm not sure I'll read more. Part epistolary, part coming-of-age, I found the writing uneven and the ever-changing cast of characters difficult to keep track of. 

Why Don't You Write My Eulogy Now So I Can Correct It?

Why Don't You Write My Eulogy Now So I Can Correct It? by Patricia Marx & Roz Chast
Nonfiction - Graphic Novel
2019 Celadon Books
Finished on December 17, 2019
Rating: 2/5 (Fair)

Publisher's Blurb:

Every mother knows best, but New Yorker writer Patty Marx's knows better. Patty has never been able to shake her mother's one-line witticisms from her brain, so she's collected them into a book, accompanied by full color illustrations by New Yorker staff cartoonist Roz Chast. These snappy maternal cautions include:

If you feel guilty about throwing away leftovers, put them in the back of your refrigerator for five days and then throw them out.

If you run out of food at your dinner party, the world will end.

When traveling, call the hotel from the airport to say there aren't enough towels in your room and, by the way, you'd like a room with a better view.

Why don't you write my eulogy now so I can correct it?

Meh. Marx's collection of witticisms is easily read in an afternoon, but I wound up feeling the same about her book as I did with Chast's Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant (reviewed here). Just not my cuppa.

Unsheltered

Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver
Fiction
2019 Harper Perennial
Finished on December 13, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

The New York Times bestselling author of Flight Behavior, The Lacuna, and The Poisonwood Bible and recipient of numerous literary awards—including the National Humanities Medal, the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, and the Orange Prize—returns with a timely novel that interweaves past and present to explore the human capacity for resiliency and compassion in times of great upheaval.

Willa Knox has always prided herself on being the embodiment of responsibility for her family. Which is why it’s so unnerving that she’s arrived at middle age with nothing to show for her hard work and dedication but a stack of unpaid bills and an inherited brick home in Vineland, New Jersey, that is literally falling apart. The magazine where she worked has folded, and the college where her husband had tenure has closed. The dilapidated house is also home to her ailing and cantankerous Greek father-in-law and her two grown children: her stubborn, free-spirited daughter, Tig, and her dutiful debt-ridden, ivy educated son, Zeke, who has arrived with his unplanned baby in the wake of a life-shattering development.

In an act of desperation, Willa begins to investigate the history of her home, hoping that the local historical preservation society might take an interest and provide funding for its direly needed repairs. Through her research into Vineland’s past and its creation as a Utopian community, she discovers a kindred spirit from the 1880s, Thatcher Greenwood.

A science teacher with a lifelong passion for honest investigation, Thatcher finds himself under siege in his community for telling the truth: his employer forbids him to speak of the exciting new theory recently published by Charles Darwin. Thatcher’s friendships with a brilliant woman scientist and a renegade newspaper editor draw him into a vendetta with the town’s most powerful men. At home, his new wife and status-conscious mother-in-law bristle at the risk of scandal, and dismiss his financial worries and the news that their elegant house is structurally unsound.

Brilliantly executed and compulsively readable, Unsheltered is the story of two families, in two centuries, who live at the corner of Sixth and Plum, as they navigate the challenges of surviving a world in the throes of major cultural shifts. In this mesmerizing story told in alternating chapters, Willa and Thatcher come to realize that though the future is uncertain, even unnerving, shelter can be found in the bonds of kindred—whether family or friends—and in the strength of the human spirit.

With the exception of The Lacuna, I have read all of Barbara Kingsolver's novels and most of her nonfiction works. I have enjoyed the majority of these books, but I approach each new release with trepidation, knowing full well that her stories have a tendency to be preachy and pedantic. I know to expect a commentary that digs into hot topics such as politics and the environment, but I also appreciate her thought-provoking themes and this latest novel didn't disappoint (although it did take me quite a while to get fully interested). I have come to dislike the use of dual narratives (which has become a tired and gimmicky conceit over the past decade or two) and Kingsolver's novel is yet another which relies on this literary device to tell the story of two separate families who reside on the same plot of land almost a hundred a fifty years apart. As I have found with the majority of novels with interlacing stories, I preferred the current time-frame over the historical narrative, but I resisted the temptation to read the modern chapters first before starting in on the historical thread. 

My book group is discussing Unsheltered later this week and I'm anxious to hear what the other members have to say about this timely and relevant novel. Did I like it? I came to care about some of the characters in the modern story, but it's not a favorite and unlike The Poisonwood Bible and Flight Behavior, it's doubtful that I'll long to read it a second time.

Devotion

Devotion: A Memoir by Dani Shapiro
Nonfiction - Memoir
2010 HarperCollins
Finished on December 3, 2019
Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

I was a yeshiva-educated, overly assimilated Jew who still dreamed and prayed in Hebrew but could no longer speak a word of it. My desire to belong to a shul was all tied up with my love of my father--but he was long gone. I was a yogi, a tentative Buddhist, a meditator, a mom searching for meaning.

Publisher's Blurb:

In her midforties and settled into the responsibilities and routines of adulthood, Dani Shapiro found herself with more questions than answers. Was this all life was--a hodgepodge of errands, dinner dates, e-mails, meetings, to-do lists? What did it all mean?

Having grown up in a deeply religious and traditional family, Shapiro had no personal sense of faith, despite repeated attempts to create a connection to something greater. Feeling as if she was plunging headlong into what Carl Jung termed "the afternoon of life," she wrestled with her self-doubt and a searing disquietude that would awaken her in the middle of the night. Set adrift by loss-her father's early death; the life-threatening illness of her infant son; her troubled relationship with her mother--she had become edgy and uncertain. At the heart of this anxiety, she realized, was a challenge: What did she believe? Spurred on by the big questions her young son began to raise, Shapiro embarked upon a surprisingly joyful quest to find meaning in a constantly changing world. The result is Devotion: a literary excavation to the core of a life.

In this spiritual detective story, Shapiro explores the varieties of experience she has pursued--from rituals of her black hat Orthodox Jewish relatives to yoga shala and meditation retreats. A reckoning of the choices she has made and the knowledge she has gained, Devotion is the story of a woman whose search for meaning ultimately leads her home. Her journey is at once poignant and funny, intensely personal--and completely universal.

It's been at least a dozen years since I read Dani Shapiro's novel, Family History, and sadly, I don't remember anything about the book other than I liked it enough keep an eye out for more by this author. I picked up one of her memoirs (Slow Motion) earlier this year, but found it too depressing and gave up after 60 pages. I've had a copy of Devotion on my shelf for several years and decided to give it a try for Nonfiction November and am happy to say that I loved it! This beautifully written memoir spoke to me on several levels and while some might disparage Shapiro's navel-gazing, I was inspired by her honesty and desire to rediscover her spirituality, not only through the traditions of her Jewish faith, but with the incorporation of yoga and meditation, as well. 

Passages of Note:

I had reached the middle of my life and knew less than I ever had. Michael, Jacob, and I lived on top of a hill, surrounded by old trees, a vegetable garden, stone walls. From the outside, things looked pretty good. But deep inside myself, I had begun to quietly fall apart. Nights, I quivered in the darkness like a wounded animal. Something was very wrong, but I didn't know what it was. All I knew was that I felt terribly anxious and unsteady. Doomed. Each morning I drove Jacob down a dirt road to his sweet little school. We all got yearly physicals. Our well water was tested for contaminants. Nothing--absolutely nothing I could put my finger on--was the matter. Except that I was often on the verge of tears. Except that it seemed that there had to be more than this hodgepodge of the everyday. Inside each joy was a hard kernel of sadness, as if I was always preparing myself for impending loss.

and

Turn right, turn left. Stay home that day. Take a different route. Cross the street for no apparent reason. Say yes, say no. Get up from the breakfast table, slip into the elevator just as the doors are closing. Book the afternoon flight. Drive exactly sixty-three miles per hour. Flip a coin. Call it coincidence, luck, fate, destiny, randomness. Some would call it the hand of God. I was sure what to call it. What I did know is that this was a huge, blinking neon sign I couldn't ignore or dismiss. All these seemingly disconnected bits--a new yoga class, a teacher's particular selection of a poem, the wonders of Google and Amazon, an impulsive one-click purchase, an agreement to participate in a local charity event--all these formed a pattern, invisible to see. Do this, a gentle voice seemed to be saying. Now this. And now this. All of which had led me to be seated next to Stephen Cope: author, yogi, scholar--and director of the Institute for Extraordinary Living at Kripalu.

and 

"Metta meditation," she went on, "is a concentration practice. It's the protection formula that the Buddha taught the monks: one of being able to depend on your own good heart. So"--she clasped her hands together--"how do we do this? By tempering one's own heart and restoring it to balance. Metta is a practice of inclining the mind in the direction of good will."

Sylvia [Boorstein] then laid out for us her four favorite phrases--variations on the Buddha's original phrases--to chant silently during metta: 

May I feel protected and safe.

May I feel contented and pleased.

May my physical body support me with strength.

May my life unfold smoothly with ease.

The idea was to silently repeat the phrases again and again, at first focusing on ourselves, but then eventually directing the phrases to others: our closest teachers and benefactors; then our loved ones; our friends; strangers; and eventually--after much practice--to those with whom we have difficult relationships, or as it is known in Buddhist scripture, our enemies.

and 

Writers often say that the hardest part of writing isn't the writing itself; it's the sitting down to write. The same is true of yoga, meditation, and prayer. The sitting down, the making space. The doing. It sounds so simple, doesn't it? Unroll the mat. Sit cross-legged on the floor. Just do it. Close your eyes and express a silent need, a wish, a moment of gratitude. What's so hard about that? Except--it is hard. The usual distractions--the clutter and piles of life--are suddenly, unusually enticing. The worst of it, I've come to realize, is that the thing that stops me--the shadow that casts a cold darkness across the best of my intentions--isn't the puppy, the e-mail, the UPS truck, the school conference, the phone, the laundry, the to-do lists. It's me that stops me. Things get stuck, the osteopath once said with a shrug. He gestured to the area where the neck meets the head. The place where the body ends and the mind begins. Things get stuck. It sounded so simple when he said it. It's me, and the things that are stuck. Standing in my way.

and

May I be safe.

May I be happy.

May I be strong.

May I live with ease.

I recently asked Sylvia why she had simplified the metta phrases. I knew there had to be a reason. She smiled at me, then beyond me, as if looking over my shoulder into the distance. She nodded, as she often did before formulating a response.

"I wanted something I would always be able to say--in old age, in sickness--and have it be realistic," she said. "No matter what happens, I can always wish for strength."

I'm glad I didn't let my disappointment in Slow Motion sway my decision to skip reading Devotion. This inspiring memoir is one I plan to share with my yogi friends and return to in the future. I'm eager to read Shapiro's most recent memoir, Inheritance, and may even give Slow Motion another try. 

On Writing

On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King
Nonfiction - Memoir
2000 Scribner
Finished on November 30, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

"If you don't have the time to read, you don't have the time or the tools to write."

In 1999, Stephen King began to write about his craft -- and his life. By midyear, a widely reported accident jeopardized the survival of both. And in his months of recovery, the link between writing and living became more crucial than ever.

Rarely has a book on writing been so clear, so useful, and so revealing. On Writing begins with a mesmerizing account of King's childhood and his uncannily early focus on writing to tell a story. A series of vivid memories from adolescence, college, and the struggling years that led up to his first novel, Carrie, will afford readers a fresh and often very funny perspective on the formation of a writer. King next turns to the basic tools of his trade -- how to sharpen and multiply them through use, and how the writer must always have them close at hand. He takes the reader through crucial aspects of the writer's art and life, offering practical and inspiring advice on everything from plot and character development to work habits and rejection.

Serialized in the New Yorker to vivid acclaim, On Writing culminates with a profoundly moving account of how King's overwhelming need to write spurred him toward recovery, and brought him back to his life.

Brilliantly structured, friendly and inspiring, On Writing will empower -- and entertain -- everyone who reads it.

Memoirs are my favorite type of nonfiction, so I don't know why I left On Writing to languish on my TBR shelf for nearly 20 years. When this year's Nonfiction November blogging challenge rolled around, I decided to add it to my stack and managed to finish it on the very last day of the month. 

As with most of King's books, I was instantly drawn into the writing, reaching for my Post-It notes, reading passages aloud to Rod, chuckling at King's humor while making notes of books to add to my TBR list. I loved reading about King's childhood and his early days as an aspiring writer. I enjoyed getting to peek into his life as a new husband and father and the struggles he and Tabitha endured in those early days as a young family. I was also spellbound as I read about King's recounting of his nearly fatal accident in 1999. At the time, I knew he was hit by a van and nearly died, but I didn't know many of the details until I read the final section of this book. Wow. What a story. Unfortunately, it wasn't one of his horror stories, but true life.

I was disappointed as I reached the final pages of On Writing, not because it was over, but because I didn't love it. About halfway in, I realized I wasn't the target audience for this book, which is less memoir and more instructional. While I loved the segments about his childhood and early adult life, I didn't care about the nuts & bolts about writing. I picked up a few tips (grammar rules for possessives and the dreaded passive voice), but most of these have been drilled into my brain from years of being married to a writer/editor who has kindly proofread my blog posts for over a dozen years. Reading Stephen King's thoughts on the art of writing for publication was interesting, but I was tempted to skim not just paragraphs, but entire pages of his book. I never skim, so this was not a good sign. I kept reading and eventually got to the last section (a dozen plus pages about his accident) where I was rewarded for my perseverance. When it came time to think about how I would rate this book, I initially thought I would just give it a 3/5 (Good) rating, but since I accept that I was not the target audience, and I loved the sections that didn't deal with writing, I decided to bump up that mediocre rating.

A Favorite Passage:

Book-buyers aren't attracted, by and large, by the literary merits of a novel; book-buyers want a good story to take with them on the airplane, something that will first fascinate them, then pull them in and keep them turning the pages. This happens, I think, when readers recognize the people in the book, their behaviors, their surroundings, and their talk. When the reader hears strong echoes of his or her own life and beliefs, he or she is apt to become more invested in the story. I'd argue that it's impossible to make this sort of connection in a premeditated way, gauging the market like a racetrack tout with a hot tip. 

I've been reading Stephen King novels for decades. He's a masterful, if not genius, storyteller and I have enjoyed so many of his books. Back in the day of the Thursday Thirteen blogging meme, I compiled a list of King's books that I've read. I could add a few more titles to that outdated list, but even with those additions, there are still so many more books yet to read. I'm not sure I want to read any that give me nightmares, but after reading this memoir, I'm eager to give his earlier novels a chance. I never did read Carrie, Salem's Lot, The Deadzone, or Christine. And the last book I read of his was 11/22/63, so I've missed out on a dozen more recent titles. Everyone seems to have a favorite (or two or three) Stephen King book. What's yours?

Dinner with Edward

Dinner with Edward by Isabel Vincent
Nonfiction - Memoir
2016 Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
Finished on November 25, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

When Isabel meets Edward, both are at a crossroads: he wants to follow his late wife to the grave, and she is ready to give up on love. Thinking she is merely helping Edward’s daughter--who lives far away and has asked her to check in on her nonagenarian dad in New York--Isabel has no idea that the man in the kitchen baking the sublime roast chicken and light-as-air apricot soufflé will end up changing her life.

As Edward and Isabel meet weekly for the glorious dinners that Edward prepares, he shares so much more than his recipes for apple galette or the perfect martini, or even his tips for deboning poultry. Edward is teaching Isabel the luxury of slowing down and taking the time to think through everything she does, to deconstruct her own life, cutting it back to the bone and examining the guts, no matter how messy that proves to be.

Dinner with Edward is a book about love and nourishment, and about how dinner with a friend can, in the words of M. F. K. Fisher, "sustain us against the hungers of the world."

It's been over three years since my blogging friend, JoAnn, of Gulfside Musing, reviewed this slim memoir (posted here) after picking it up at an independent bookstore while on vacation in Colorado. She was very thoughtful and sent me the book once she was finished, but it wasn't until a few days ago that I was finally inspired to take it down from the shelf and begin reading. (Thank you, Nonfiction November challenge!) JoAnn read the entire book on her flight home and I was able to read it in just one day, as well. I adore memoirs, particularly those with a culinary focus, and I was quickly drawn into Isabel's delightful stories about her unique friendship with Edward. 

Edward was neither a snob nor an insufferable foodie. He just liked to do things properly. He cared deeply about everything he created--whether it was the furniture in his living room or his writing. He had built and upholstered all of the furniture himself and wrote out his poems and short stories in longhand, patiently rewriting each draft on unlined white paper until he felt it was good enough to be typed by one of his daughters. He treated cooking much the same way, even though he had started doing it late in life, in his seventies. "Paula cooked for fifty-two years, and one day I just told her she'd done enough work, and now it was my turn," he said.

My only quibble is the lack of recipes. However, Edward states:

"It's just cooking, darling," he said, when I asked why he didn't use cookbooks. "I don't ever think of what I'm doing in terms of recipes. I just don't want to bother looking at recipes. To me, that's not cooking - being tied to a piece of paper."

Ah, but I am tied to a piece of paper. I need recipes! I guess I'll have to resort to Googling the various items listed in each menu and see what I can come up with. 

As with many of my favorite culinary memoirs, Dinner with Edward is not just about food, but also about life and the deep friendships and conversations shared over a delicious meal. Sure to appeal to fans of Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking and Ann Hood's Kitchen Yarns, Isabel Vincent's splendid memoir will not disappoint.

Thank you, JoAnn, for sharing this lovely little book with me. It has found a place next to my favorite memoirs and is one that I will pick up again when I am in need of a comfort read.

I'd Rather Be Reading

I'd Rather Be Reading by Anne Bogel
Nonfiction
2018 Baker Books
Finished on November 23, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

For so many people, reading isn't just a hobby or a way to pass the time--it's a lifestyle. Our books shape us, define us, enchant us, and even sometimes infuriate us. Our books are a part of who we are as people, and we can't imagine life without them.

I'd Rather Be Reading is the perfect literary companion for everyone who feels that way. In this collection of charming and relatable reflections on the reading life, beloved blogger and author Anne Bogel leads readers to remember the book that first hooked them, the place where they first fell in love with reading, and all of the moments afterward that helped make them the reader they are today. Known as a reading tastemaker through her popular podcast What Should I Read Next?, Bogel invites book lovers into a community of like-minded people to discover new ways to approach literature, learn fascinating new things about books and publishing, and reflect on the role reading plays in their lives.

The perfect gift for the bibliophile in everyone's life, I'd Rather Be Reading will command an honored place on the overstuffed bookshelves of any book lover.

Over the years, I have read and enjoyed many books about bookstores, books and reading: Ex Libris (Anne Fadiman), Dear Fahrenheit 451 (Annie Spence), 84, Charing Cross Road (Helene Hanff), The Book That Matters Most (Ann Hood), The End of Your Life Book Club (Will Schwalbe), Leave Me Alone, I'm Reading (Maureen Corrigan), So Many Books, So Little Time (Sara Nelson) and Book Lust (Nancy Pearl), to name just a few. Most recently, Ann Hood's gem, Morningstar: Growing Up with Books had me nodding my head and reaching for my Post-It flags to mark favorite passages. Bogel's slim collection of essays had me doing the same and didn't disappoint.

Favorite Passages:

You're looking for a book that reminds you why you read in the first place. One written well and that will feel like it was written just for you--one that will make you think about things in a new way, or feel things you didn't expect a book to make you feel, or see things in a new light. A book you won't want to put down, whose characters you don't want to tell good-bye. A book you will close feeling satisfied and grateful, thinking, Now, that was a good one.

and

A good book allows me to step into another world, to experience people and places and situations foreign to my own day-to-day existence. I love experiencing the new, the novel, the otherwise impossible--especially when I can do it from my own comfy chair.

and

Books draw us deeply into the lives of others, showing us the world through someone else's eyes, page after page. They take us to new and exciting places while meeting us right where we are, whisking us away to walk by the Seine or through a Saharan desert or down a Manhattan sidewalk.

and 

Your To Be Read list holds 8,972 titles, and you want to read every one. Your TBR list is unquestionably too long to finish before you die. Your TBR list is longer than your arm, but you still can't decide what to read next. You have countless unread books at home, yet you feel like you have nothing to read. You have countless unread books at home, but the only book you're in the mood to read won't be published for six more weeks. You have countless unread books at home, but you can't resist buying one more. 

and

There's something about glimpsing, and especially handling, a book from long ago that takes me right back to where I was when I first read it. The book triggers memories of why I picked it up, how it made me feel, what was going on in my life at the time, transporting me so thoroughly that, for a moment, I feel like I'm there once again.

and

Bookish enthusiasm is contagious, but it isn't sufficient--not if I want to find the books that are truly right for me, and for you to find the ones that are right for you. It's easy enough for me to say, I liked that book," or "I didn't," but I often struggle to explain why. I'm constantly surprised at how difficult it is to articulate my thoughts on what I've read in a way that is coherent, useful, and enjoyable, whether I'm sharing a five-thousand-word formal review or a twenty-word text message. But I feel I owe it to my fellow readers to try, because my comments help others decide what is worth reading and what should be read next.

and

We are readers. Books grace our shelves and fill our homes with beauty; they dwell in our minds and occupy our thoughts. Books prompt us to spend pleasant hours alone and connect us with fellow readers. They invite us to escape into their pages for an afternoon, and they inspire us to reimagine our lives. Good reading journals provide glimpses of how we've spent our days, and they tell the story of our lives.

I'd Rather Be Reading is the perfect gift for any bibliophile on your Christmas list. Be sure to order a copy for yourself, too! 

Mister Owita's Guide to Gardening

Mister Owita's Guide to Gardening by Carol Wall
Nonfiction - Memoir
2014 Amy Einhorn Books
Finished on November 20, 2019
Rating: 2/5 (Fair)

Publisher's Blurb:

A true story of a unique friendship between two people who had nothing - and ultimately everything - in common.

Carol Wall, a middle-aged woman living in a small Virginia town, was at a crossroads in her life. Her children were grown and had left her nest empty; she had successfully overcome the illness that had upended her idyllic existence and forced her to question her own assumptions about what truly gives life  meaning; her beloved parents were getting older, and their care was her burden to carry, alone. Her yard was showing obvious signs of neglect, yet the last thing in the world she thought she would start doing is take up something as frivolous as gardening. Carol and flowers had a history--and it wasn't a happy one.

One day, while she was driving by her neighbor's house, Carol couldn't help noticing the neighbor's yard. Flowers were blooming everywhere. The lawn was a luscious dark green. The trees were glorious, and their shade inviting. In comparison, Carol's yard was... well, just a yard, perhaps the ugliest one on the block.

Yet even more compelling than the beautiful plants was the magnetic man orchestrating this magic. As if drawn by an inexplicable force, Carol found herself calling to gather more information about the stranger. She learned that his name was Giles Owita. He was from Kenya. He bagged groceries at the supermarket in town. He was very good at gardening.

Soon Giles was showing up at Carol's doorstep and transforming now only her yard, but her life. Though they seemed as different as could be, a caring bond began to grown between them. And as it turned out, they both had closely held secrets that, when revealed, would cement their connection forever. 

Mister Owita's Guide to Gardening is an account of an unexpected friendship that sustained Carol through crises and milestones. It is the memoir of a woman who at midlife found there was so much more to learn about herself and others. And perhaps more important, it is also an ode to Giles Owita himself, an intelligent and complex man whose wisdom and grace were truly remarkable. 

As I began reading Carol Wall's memoir, I had that heady feeling of joy, knowing from the opening pages that this was going to be a wonderful book. I felt an immediate connection to the author and looked forward to learning more about her life, as well as that of Giles Owita and his ability to transform a sad garden into a place of beauty and joy. However, somewhere around the third chapter I grew more than weary of Carol's insecurities and whining. While not exactly a drama queen, her reaction to the declining health of her parents, and that of her own cancer battles, seemed over the top and irrationally hysterical. I was tempted to abandon the book, but stuck with it since a few of my friends gave it a high rating and it was a quick read. Overall, it was a disappointing read.

Forty Autumns

Forty Autumns by Nina Willner
Nonfiction - Memoir
2016 William Morrow
Finished on November 18, 2019
Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

In this illuminating and deeply moving memoir, a former American military intelligence officer goes beyond traditional Cold War espionage tales to tell the true story of her family—of five women separated by the Iron Curtain for more than forty years, and their miraculous reunion after the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Forty Autumns makes visceral the pain and longing of one family forced to live apart in a world divided by two. At twenty, Hanna escaped from East to West Germany. But the price of freedom—leaving behind her parents, eight siblings, and family home—was heartbreaking. Uprooted, Hanna eventually moved to America, where she settled down with her husband and had children of her own.

Growing up near Washington, D.C., Hanna’s daughter, Nina Willner became the first female Army Intelligence Officer to lead sensitive intelligence operations in East Berlin at the height of the Cold War. Though only a few miles separated American Nina and her German relatives—grandmother Oma, Aunt Heidi, and cousin, Cordula, a member of the East German Olympic training team—a bitter political war kept them apart.

In Forty Autumns, Nina recounts her family’s story—five ordinary lives buffeted by circumstances beyond their control. She takes us deep into the tumultuous and terrifying world of East Germany under Communist rule, revealing both the cruel reality her relatives endured and her own experiences as an intelligence officer, running secret operations behind the Berlin Wall that put her life at risk.

A personal look at a tenuous era that divided a city and a nation, and continues to haunt us, Forty Autumns is an intimate and beautifully written story of courage, resilience, and love—of five women whose spirits could not be broken, and who fought to preserve what matters most: family.

I recommended Forty Autumns to my book group after learning about it from a friend who also read it for her book group. She raved about the book and said her group had a wonderful discussion, so I was sold. World War II is a subject I'm drawn to, but I didn't know much about this part of Germany's history when I picked up the book. Like most major events in history such as JFK's assassination, Apollo 11 moon landing, the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion and 9/11 (the sort that we can recall where we were when we first heard that shocking news), I remember when I first heard about the fall of the Berlin Wall. I was busy with work and family life and while I knew it was a historical event, I didn't fully understand the enormous impact it had for those German families who had been separated from their loved ones for decades. Nina Willner's narrative sheds light on the authoritarian rule and repression by the East German government, as well as sharing her family's individual story of fear and uncertainty, including the separation of family members over the course of forty years. Willner's poignant memoir is well written and informative, but sadly, I didn't love it. It started off very strong and readable, but began to drag halfway through. I felt that the author kept her readers at a distance, in spite of sharing such a personal story, and I might have enjoyed it better had it been presented as a historical novel rather than a memoir.

Wish You Were Here

Wish You Were Here by Stewart O'Nan
Fiction
2002 Grove Press
Finished on November 12, 2019
Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

A year after the death of her husband, Henry, Emily Maxwell gathers her family by Lake Chautauqua in western New York for what will be their last vacation at their summer cottage. Joining her is her sister-in-law, who silently mourns both the sale of the lake house and a long-lost love. Emily's firebrand daughter, a recovering alcoholic recently separated from her husband, brings her children from Detroit. Emily's son, who has quit his job and mortgaged his future to pursue his art, comes accompanied by his children and his wife. Memories of past summers resurface, old rivalries flare up, and love is rekindled and born anew, resulting in a timeless novel by one of our most engaging storytellers.

Wish You Were Here is the first installment in O'Nan's Maxwell trilogy. I wouldn't normally read a series out of order, but I didn't know about this book when I read Emily, Alone several years ago. When I spotted Henry, Himself (the most recent book by O'Nan) on the shelf at the library, I was eager to read it since I loved Emily, Alone. I loved it, as well, so I decided to buy a copy of Wish You Were Here. I don't know why, since I rarely ever buy books anymore, but I was so sure it would be another winner. Well... it's probably a good thing that I didn't read this book when it was first published or I may not have gone on to read the other two. Not a lot happens in any of these books, as they are character studies of the Maxwell family, but this one left me wanting more. I was drawn in from the opening pages, but as I continued to read, I found myself bored with the characters' frustrations, jealousies and complaints. Emily and Henry are the stars of their respective books, but Wish You Were Here is told from all nine of the characters' points-of-view. Mundane details of a single week at the lakeside cottage are hardly riveting (as one reviewer claims), and I became frustrated with the multiple POVs, unable to keep track of which character (mainly the four children) was which. Yet, I couldn't quite give it up. Now knowing the backstory to the subsequent novels, I'm eager to reread Emily, Alone. If O'Nan decides to write another book about this family, I doubt I'll bother, that is unless it's told from Rufus' (the family dog) POV!

The Story of Arthur Truluv

The Story of Arthur Truluv by Elizabeth Berg
Fiction
2017 Random House
Finished on October 10, 2019
Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

From New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Berg comes an emotionally powerful novel about three people who each lose the one they love most, only to find second chances where they least expect them.

For the past six months, Arthur Moses's days have looked the same: He tends to his rose garden and to Gordon, his cat, then rides the bus to the cemetery to visit his beloved late wife for lunch. The last thing Arthur would imagine is for one unlikely encounter to utterly transform his life.

Eighteen-year-old Maddy Harris is an introspective girl who visits the cemetery to escape the other kids at school. One afternoon she joins Arthur--a gesture that begins a surprising friendship between two lonely souls. Moved by Arthur's kindness and devotion, Maddy gives him the nickname "Truluv." As Arthur's neighbor Lucille moves into their orbit, the unlikely trio band together and, through heartache and hardships, help one another rediscover their own potential to start anew.

Wonderfully written and full of profound observations about life, The Story of Arthur Truluv is a beautiful and moving novel of compassion in the face of loss, of the small acts that turn friends into family, and of the possibilities to achieve happiness at any age.

Several weeks ago a friend asked me for a recommendation for a "feel good" book that he could give to his mother-in-law. Nothing came to mind, so I scanned the sidebar of my blog, hoping something would jump out at me. Nope. (Apparently I read a lot of depressing or gritty books.) Had he asked a few weeks later, I would have been able to tell him about this gem off a novel which warmed my heart and made me smile as I turned the last page. One could easily read it in an afternoon, but it was perfect for my stop-and-go reading style while on a road trip in our RV. I recently read the second book in this trilogy and have to say that I enjoyed that novel a little bit more than this one, but both are entertaining and definitely fall into the category of heartwarming or uplifting books. I'm looking forward to The Confession Club, which is the final installment in this series and due out next month.