Moonlight Masquerade, by Jude Deverau

Moonlight Masquerade by Jude Deveraux
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Reading Jude Deveraux's Moonlight Masquerade, my first thought was that this isn't your Grandma's romance novel.

Romance novels are not something I normally gravitate toward. My Aunt Elsie, my grandmother's sister-in-law, used to devour romance novels, then frequently pass them along. As a teen, I could never get into them; everything was too predictable. The heroine was usually naively sweet, the hero frequently border-lined on bad boy status. The hero had been hurt and needed a good woman whose love would somehow heal him; of course, Miss Naive was that woman.

Moonlight Masquerade was on Goodreads' giveaways link recently. Since I'd never read any of Jude Deveraux's work, I entered to win a copy. Technically, I didn't win, but several copies were sent to non-winners, which is how I got a copy.

Ms. Deveraux spins an enchanting tale. Sophie Kincaid has been jilted and runs to Edilean, a town that her friend Kim Aldredge describes as heaven on earth. Once in town, Sophie's car dies; as she walks away from the car, she is nearly run over by someone in a sports car. Of course, she must seek revenge against the driver, even if it is only by dumping a pitcher of beer over his head.

Of course, it turns out that Sophie has just dumped beer over the head of Kim's brother, the bitter Dr. Reede Aldredge...and Sophie's new employer.

Of course, things get more interesting...If you're a fan of romance novels, this one is a sure hit. And for those of us who tend to steer clear of the genre, Jude Deveraux's handling of the story still makes for an interesting read, the one to read on a lazy day at the beach.

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Alas, Babylon

When Randy Bragg receives a telegram from his older brother, Mark, the words Alas, Babylon jump out at him. As boys, the Braggs used to listen outside Fort Repose's African-American church and listen as the Preacher would utter those same two words throughout his sermons to warn the congregation of horrible things waiting those who went astray.

Pat Frank's novel, published in 1959, tells of a world pushed over the brink of a war so horrible that it sets civilization back a thousand years. Yet this is no Mad Max or any other sci-fi appocalypse book; it was based on what could potentially happen had the Cold War heated up.

Meeting up with Mark, Randy learns a horrible truth: career military man Mark has reason to believe that the world is about to topple over the edge to a horrific war. Handing Randy a sizable check, Mark tells his brother that his (Mark's) wife and children are flying in to Fort Repose in an effort to survive.

The family is barely in Randy's house when the war begins. The book then takes the reader into a fast-paced tale of What If the unthinkable happens.

While the book is over fifty years old, it is well worth the time to read it.

Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake

Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, by Anna Quindlen; 4 of 5 stars

Anna Quindlen has a knack for making the mundane interesting, letting the reader know that every day stuff is both universal yet individualistic. Her book Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake is no different. A former New York Times columnist, Quindlen has written essays here that explore different facets of women's lives.

In her essay Advice to My Younger Self, Quindlen writes, "It’s nothing short of astonishing, all that we learn between the time we are born and the time we die. Of course most of the learning takes place not in a classroom or a library, but in the laboratory of our own lives...[These lessons are] clear only in hindsight, frequently when some of its lessons may not even be useful anymore." That is how life is for all of us, yet it takes a true wordsmith to write this truth so succinctly.

While I've loved Quindlen's fiction since stumbling upon Black And Blue years ago, this was one of my first forays into her essays. As I read Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, I found myself occasionly thinking, "Yes! That's it exactly!" In her essay Faith, she mentions that when we're kids, days seem to fly by while the years crawl but that when we're older, it's the reverse: the days crawl by as the years fly. While I'd instinctively known this, I'd never given it much thought. For most of us over a certain age - well beyond our teens - all we have to do is look back over our lives to realize how true this is.

Well worth the read.

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World Book Night

Did you know that today marks the annual World Book Night? If you answered No, don't feel bad; neither did I. But according to an article in USA TODAY, it is! According to the article, World Book Night happens on April 23 because it's Shakespeare's birthday. (And yes, I know: if you click on the link that says Pop Candy, you'll see a darkening globe with last year's date; no matter; the time on the article was posted this morning.)

On Saturday, April 20, USA TODAY published their weekend picks for book lovers. The list consists of: The Victory Season: The End of World War II and the Birth of Baseball's Golden Age, by Robert Weintraub, The Fever Tree, by Jennifer McVeigh, How to Be a Friend to a Friend Who's Sick, by Letty Cottin Pogrebin, Your Survival Instinct Is Killing You: Retrain Your Brain to Conquer Fear, Make Better Decisions, and Thrive in the 21st Century, by Marc Schoen with Kristin Loerg, and Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald, by Therese Anne Fowler.

So, celebrate World Book Night. If the books on USA TODAY's list don't sound appealing, pick another book - even if it happens to be Dr. Seuss's classic Green Eggs And Ham!

Operating Instructions:A Journal of My Son's First Year

Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year by Anne Lamott
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Most readers I know - and I'm including myself here - tend to classify writers and books, even if it's on a subconscious level: there are writers we absolutely love, those we can't stand, and those we're neutral about.

Since discovering Anne Lamott's books maybe ten years ago, I've absolutely loved her writing. There are one or two of her books I couldn't get into, but that's fine, since most of what she's written is wonderfully quirky. She has this really funny, left-wing way of looking at things, not unlike my point of view, not to mention a touch of drama-queen-ness that I love.

That said, I'd been meaning to read Operating Instructions: A journal of My Son's First Year, her book about her first year as a single mom, for a while. I'm not sure why I hadn't read it completely when I first heard of it. Maybe it was the fact that my kids are grown, so it's been forever since I've dealt with a baby. But considering her son Sam is now an adult, with a child of his own, that argument was a little weak. So, I broke down and decided to give it a go.

Wow, what a book. Operating Instructions moves with the speed of a small brook, meandering slowly along, rather than with white-water-rapids speed. It was taken from the journal Lamott wrote during Sam's first year. We learn that Sam spends some time being a little colicky, which works his mother's last frayed exhausted nerve and we feel her frustration. (Fortunately, she discovers how to help Sam through this.) We see him roll from front to back for the first time. We see everything Lamott goes through, her family and friends helping out, her wonderful sense of humor and irony, her love for Sam...everything.

All in all, Operating Instructions is a good book to read for anyone who's ever had children, thought about having children, knows children, and loves funny, left-wing liberal parents. I have a feeling I'll be reading Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son's First Son, the book she wrote with Sam about his son. I'm looking forward to it.

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To Kill A Mockingbird

Here is another repost from my blog Life In The Left-Hand Lane (http://life-in-the-left-hand-lane.blogspot.com).

I'm a writer, and I'm also a reader. I feel that the two are strongly connected; most of the writers I know also read a lot. Some of us touch base periodically to get caught up on books, articles and stories we've read: "Just started reading..." "Oh, I read that last month. Loved it; couldn't put it down," or "I really couldn't get into to at all because...Finally had to put it down."

I've picked up several books - and enjoyed them - on the word of other writer/readers. I've also felt better knowing that someone else whose writing I enjoy and whose opinion on good books is similar to mine says that he or she really couldn't get into whatever book I found lacking.

Most of us have favorite books that we go back to time and again. One of my favorites is Harper Lee's classic, To Kill A Mockingbird. I just finished it again for the umpteenth time this morning. The copy I put back on one of my many bookshelves is easily the tenth (or more) copy I've owned; I tend to reread it until it falls apart. One copy that I'd bought did manage to get gift-wrapped and sent to my mom several Christmases ago; that one doesn't get added to the count.

"Thanks for sending To Kill A Mockingbird this year," Mom said when she called. It had been years since she'd read it, and had been meaning to pick up a copy. Several weeks later, she called to tell me it was better than she remembered. I'm always glad when the two of us agree on a book; reading is one of the loves she passed on to me.

One of the many things I frequently find interesting in Harper Lee's book is how she manages to tie Atticus Finch's thoughts on Mrs. Dubose's bravery at the end of Part I to the fight Atticus faces in Part II. While Mrs. Dubose's thoughts on Atticus's defending Tom Robinson are a reflection of many of the townspeople's sentiment - as well as the nation's sentiments on race during the 1930s, they are drastically different from Atticus Finch's sentiment, as well as that of several of the people who fit prominently in the book. Atticus Finch may have been appointed to defend Tom Robinson by the court; however, he intends to actually defend the innocent man.

But back to what Atticus says about Mrs. Dubose: After he returns from her house and tells Jem and Scout that Mrs. Dubose has died, he says that she was the "bravest person I know." Why? Jem wants to know. How can Atticus say this, when Mrs. Dubose held such different views from his own? It turned out that, while dying, she was addicted to morphine for the pain from her illness and she wanted to come off it before she died. Courage, to Atticus's way of thinking, isn't "'...a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs. Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her...She was the bravest person I know.'"

Before and during Tom Robinson's trial, Atticus tries his hardest to win Tom's freedom. Miss Maudie tells Jem and Scout afterwards that while the verdict was a foregone conclusion - the American South, 1930s, a black man's word against a white man's word - that Atticus was the only lawyer in the area who could keep a jury deliberating for as long as it did. Afterwards, Atticus intended to appeal the verdict. True, this may be something lawyers are supposed to do, but considering the time/place/race issue, many lawyers may not have pushed the issue. Atticus knew, going in, that it would be an up-hill battle, but he was even more courageous than he had given Mrs. Dubose credit for.

The ending - when Bob Ewell attempts to kill Jem and Scout, only to die by falling on his own knife as the reclusive Boo Radley rescues the children - is as moving as the rest of the book.

The somewhat battered copy is now back on the bookshelf, and will be retrieved in another year or so to be reread.

Repost from Life In the Left-Hand Lane

This is a repost from one of my other blogs, Life in the Left-Hand Lane (http://life-in-the-lelft-hand-lane.blogspot.com), dated December 29, 2012:

I love to read. Always have. I blame my parents, in a good way. Between bedtime stories, watching both Mom and Dad reading a wide variety of books in their spare time, and receiving books for birthdays, Christmases, and just because, I learned that books were to be explored and enjoyed. A person can learn a lot from books.

It was on one website that I frequent that I learned about another cool site called Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com. Maybe you've heard of it. Or not. But on Goodreads, a reader can keep track of books she or he has read, is currently reading, wants to read (oops, must add the Narnia series!), learn about what others are reading, what others feel are must reads and what can be passed on. One can connect with friends on the site and get emails when books (and comments on these books) are added to friends' lists.

At the moment, I'm reading several books, a habit I got into as a kid during summer vacation. Getting home after the last day of school, I'd grab a stack of five books, read the first chapter of the first book, stick in on the bottom of the stack, read the next book's first chapter, then the next book...You get the idea. When I'd finish one book, it would go back on the bookshelf, another stuck into its place, and the reading would go on. By mid-summer, I might be on chapter one in one book, chapter ten in another, five in the third...Drove my mother crazy.

"How do you keep all the stories separate?" she'd ask. Just do, I'd tell her. She'd wander off, sighing, happy, I'm sure, that at least I was reading.

"I wouldn't worry about it," my grandmother told her when she relayed it during one of Grandma's visits. "I used to that all the time." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "I still do." If it was good enough for Grandma...

Two of the books I'm currently working on are Seasons of Real Florida, by Jeff Klinkenberg, and Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, by Anna Quindlen. Both are interesting reads, similar in some ways, way different in other aspects.

Klinkenberg's Seasons..., as with his other books, is a collection of his columns first published in the Tampa Bay Times (formerly the St. Petersburg Times). He introduces the reader to all sorts of interesting characters and Florida locales. His writing makes the reader think that Klink has the perfect job: wander the state, meet cool people, see cool places, and then write about them. Jeff, if you ever decide to retire, please put in a good word for me at the Times!

Quindlen's Lots of Candles... is also a collection of short essays. (She wrote for the New York Times for several years; several of her non-fiction books are collections of some of these essays.) Her essays tend toward her observations on life.

In one of the essays in Lots of Candles..., she mentions being a control freak, to the point of having a local anesthetic when having a hysterectomy. The surgeon, knowing a control freak when she saw one, told Quindlen that she would not be allowed to talk while the surgery was going on. I really had to laugh while reading Quinlen's description of being a control freak, as I've been there. I, too, tend to be a bit of a control freak, as well as a bit of a slob.

An aside: When Paul was alive, he played Felix Unger to my Oscar Madison; we used to joke that if anyone ever did a remake of The Odd Couple using a married couple, we'd be perfect. While I'm not enough of a slob to be on an episode of Hoarders, it's only because I am a control freak. And maybe the two apparent opposites feed into each other: I can never keep my home as neat as my mom used to, or as neat as I'd love to, so why bother? But then the control-freak-ness kicks in and...

There have been times when I've been in my friend Kevin's cab and told him that I wanted to go somewhere, then proceeded to tell him exactly how to get there. Kev will usually give me a look and ask who I think is doing the driving. If I mention wanting to be in control, he'll tell me that I'm simply neurotic. Nothing like having someone know you too well...

Kevin reads a lot, too; over the years, I've noticed numerous books in his cab. (Cab driving does give one down time between calls.) He's recommended several books, and I've told him about several, even handing him a copy of Elie Wiesel's Night, a book he devoured in a day or two before passing it on. (It was an extra copy and I'd told him to pass it along.)

Paul was a reader, too, liking a variety of books from Tom Clancy and mysteries to short stories. But there were several times when I'd buy a book for myself, put it on the table, then not be able to find it later. "Oh, I started reading it," Paul would say. "You really need to read this: it's great!"

We'd discuss books, what we were reading, what stood out in the book, what inspired us for a variety of reasons...

It's a rainy Saturday, the last weekend in the out-going year. I intend to do some house-cleaning (it's that control-freak thing), but I also intend to get royally lost in a couple of books. Will I read about more quirky Floridians? More Quindlen musings? AWOL on the Appalachian Trail on my Kindle? Who knows...maybe all three. It'll drive Mom nuts, but at least she'll take comfort knowing I'm reading!