From the Kitchen of Half Truth

Novel by Maria Goodin

My daughter is officially a book gobbler. I told her the other day that buying books for her is a waste because she reads them so fast. But what did I do today but buy her two new ones at the book fair at her school (they were buy one get one free, what else could I do?)  And I am fully aware that her book gobbling ways are inherited straight from me, and I inherited it from my mother, and her mother as well. We should all be banned from Amazon and required to use only our library cards or the earth will soon be depleted of trees.

I read this book in three days. That's not a brag, more of a confession, since it means I really have no life outside of reading-writing-teaching-eating-parenting. Oh well. This is also an incredibly easy book to read. I don't really know why it's so gobble-able, actually. It's the writer's first novel and a tad awkward (though I should be careful not to judge, as I'm currently working on my slightly gangly first manuscript). It's also about an intense life event--a college student returns to her childhood home to take care of her dying mother and discovers her childhood was not really what her mother made it out to be. Despite those factors, it's just very readable, especially coming after the last literary giant I tackled (Crossing to Safety).

The dying mother is a self taught cook and both real food and food metaphor figure heavily in this story. It reminded me of The School of Essential Ingredients, which I previously blogged about, and Garden Spells, which I read recently and loved, but must have been during my blogging hiatus. There's a certain snappiness from School and a dreaminess from Garden Spells that are lacking in this book, but it gave me my other must-haves: set in another place (England), characters who grow and change, a happy ending. It also made me eat a lot. Don't count the number of ice cream sandwich wrappers in my garbage can.

Crossing to Safety

Novel by Wallace Stegner

Do you know the difference between literary and commercial fiction? This is how I understand it: literary means the writer isn't famous until they die. Literary means the books you're assigned in English class. Or if you're an English major or teacher, the books you're supposed to like.

That's this book. Maybe you are better informed than I am, but I had never heard of Wallace Stegner before I picked up this book. It was published 25 years ago, and was Stegner's last novel before his death, but he also wrote or compiled 27 other books and numerous short stories. Still doesn't ring a bell? Me either.

I did like this story: it's told from the perspective of 60-year-old author reminiscing on the most important friendship of his life. When he was a poor college professor with a pregnant wife and new to their college town in the 1930's, they were befriended by a very gregarious college professor and his pregnant wife. While there are many such parallels between the couples, the second couple are exorbitantly rich and that sets in motion some of the ups and downs of a friendship spanning multiple decades. Apparently it's somewhat autobiographical (although Stegner himself says all writing is somewhat autobiographical), and the fact that nothing hugely dramatic happens in the story (aside from illnesses and World War II) is commented on by the main character as what makes good, true literature. It's just a story of real people and the intricacies of relationships.

It was very much something that I may have been assigned to read in college. The figurative language is beautiful, the introspection excruciatingly detailed and realistic. The careful blending of perspective and timeline as the main character looks back on events of forty years earlier is masterful. I could write an essay on it. Maybe I just did. But still, I think I like a little more drama, some shockers, some plot twists. Water for Elephants takes place during the Great Depression and is told as a remembrance, but has a little more pizzazz. Maybe I'm just a commercial kind of girl now.

Evolving in Monkey Town

Memoir by Rachel Held Evans

What, another memoir? I know, I agree, I wanted to read a novel next but this one was on my nightstand and overdue at our public library (which is super awesome and doesn't charge late fees, but I try to be an upstanding citizen and return books on time. I'm a guilt monger that way).

The title of this book is weird, but clearly explained in the opening pages. Rachel Held Evans uses the controversial word "evolve" to describe her idea that Christianity and Christians do and must change. Rachel grew up in Dayton, Tennessee, site of the Scopes Monkey Trial which debated evolution versus creation. She uses her proximity to this historical event as a springboard to discuss her personal evolution from a non-questioning conservative Christian to a question-asking, don't-label-me follower of Jesus without all the trappings that the postmodern church has instilled. She calls it a crisis of faith, but to me it seems more like a coming of age.

And that is the basis of my main reaction to this book. Because Rachel grew up in the Bible Belt amongst very conservative Christians, the ideas that evolution may be right, that homosexuality may not be a sin, that Jesus represents social justice as well as salvation...those were all foreign to her. Questioning what she learned as a child does cause her to have a crisis of faith, because she believed theology was more important than actual relationship with God. I didn't have that problem. I'm not saying I'm more enlightened, just lucky, I guess, that I have a background of God-first, rules-second kind of Christianity. Having a feminist Christian mother probably helps. And while I have developed some ideals of my own that are different from most of my family (I vote mostly Democrat now--gasp!), I would call that growing up.

A small side note on this book is that she takes a trip to India, which she clearly says is to visit her missionary sister despite the vogueishness of such a trip. It reminded me that Anne Lamott describes a visit to India in the last book I read, which reminded me of Eat Pray Love. Aren't those kinds of trends interesting in literature? Maybe I need to take a soul-searching vacation to write about.

Now for some book club business-y items (don't tune out, it's good stuff):

The novel I just started reading looks kind of intense, so it'll likely be a while before I'm done. If so, just to keep you interested, I may be posting the first few pages of MY novel. That's right, the one I've been hinting at writing. I just went to a conference where other writers critiqued my first page and I want to get some more feedback after I make revisions. Be on the lookout!

Also, a question for those of you who buy books for children or teens: how do you determine what is appropriate content for them? I struggle to find books that are at the reading level of my voracious, book-gobbling seven-year-old but still not too mature for her sweet little mind. I also recently lent Water for Elephants to a 7th grader, feeling a little hesitant about the sex scenes and drinking, but she was the one who recommended The Night Circus to me. This is a new issue for me, one I am feeling my way through, and I would appreciate any signposts you can put up for me. Thanks.

Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son's First Son

Memoir by Anne Lamott

First, prepare for gushing. Second, I am six and a half months pregnant (ok, six and a quarter--it's hot here and I need something to feel good about) so the timing of this book is apt. Third, you should know that Anne Lamott will be the first author I credit when I become a famous writer myself.

Now that you know those things, oh my goodness, I love this book. I love almost everything Annie writes (that's what she calls herself so I'm only taking small liberties). My favorites are her memoirs because they are refreshingly real and honest. This one, as the subtitle clearly explains, is on becoming a grandma. It's kind of a sequel to her book Operating Instructions in which she journals about becoming a mother when she was single, broke, and newly sober. I loved that one too. Now she's 55 and a her son, who is young, broke, and recently separated from his girlfriend, finds out he's going to be a father. They go through the year together, the four of them, Anne, Sam (the dad), Amy (the mom), and Jax (the baby), plus a rotating cast of hilarious and wonderful family and friends. They make my enormous extended family look small (and normal).

If you're thinking this has been done before, this blogging about baby thing, then you don't know Annie. She finds humor and irony and despair and joy all in the same poop anecdote. She turns diapers into major life lessons. She loves Jesus but says the f word. She's a hoot. Here's proof:

Top Five Quotes that Made Me Laugh or Cry or Say "Me Too!"

Amy and Sam despair at my underwear...they do not think I can ever get a boyfriend with underpants at like these.

The single most radical thing I know...is that I get to take care of myself. Of course, Sam and Amy get to take care of themselves, too; so this is not so great.

He seems to be in a workshop on the concepts of In and Out and Off. All the books on the shelves, Off. All the pony figurines in the box, Out. Then In.

Some people who shall remain nameless tricked me into loving them and ruined my life.

Sam called to say that Jax had held his bottle by himself for the first time. He's nearly ready for a paper route.

Does that not say it all? Anne Lamott is so wonderfully tongue in cheek, self deprecating, and reverently irreverent that she makes me want to stalk her.