Book #31: Emma: A Modern Retelling

Emma: A Modern Retelling by Alexander McCall Smith

For the past couple of months, I've been reading a lot about a new Jane Austen project that totally intrigues me (and yes, I know it totally horrifies some of my die-hard Austen friends). Well-known authors have been challenged with re-writing her classic books and bringing them into the modern age without losing their original feel and major storyline. 

Alexander McCall Smith, the author of the wildly popular No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series, was tasked with bringing Emma into the 21st century. 

His Emma doesn't stray too far from Austen's - she's a spoiled and pampered daughter of a widower, a meddler in everyone's business, and in love with her "big brother"-type older friend without actually realizing it. Check, check, check.

This Emma is different only in that she's somewhat bi-curious about Harriet and she's a lazy fashion designer who doesn't see the need in working for a living.

I didn't love this novel, and I realized about halfway in that it wasn't because it was written poorly. In fact, I think it's a pretty faithful adaptation. The problem is, I think this version highlights the fact that I don't actually like Emma. She is, for want of a better word, a brat. She's Kim Kardashian dressed up as Keira Knightley, and look. We all know the difference.

I also get the feeling that she doesn't reeeeeeally love Mr. Knightley. She just doesn't want Mr. Knightley to love anyone else (Harriet) because she always gets her way.

I think the original novel is pretty much the same, but Austen paints Emma as a little more harmless and a tad more charming.

*And side note, knowing what we all know now about Gwyneth Paltrow's GOOP personality, how perfect of a 90's casting choice was that?

Book #30: A Dark Dividing

A Dark Dividing by Sarah Rayne

I've read a lot of F.G. Cottam's books over the past couple of years (Dark Echo and The House of Lost Souls were the best offerings), and while he's no Stephen King, he's pretty good at summoning a good scary story. This is the first book I've read by Sarah Rayne, and I actually Googled her to see if she was actually the pen-name for F.G. Cottam, or maybe the other way around. The writing is startlingly similar. 

This story time-hops from early Victorian England and the journal entries of a well-to-do unhappily married woman to the 1980s and an unhappily married woman to present time and an unhappily unmarried woman with a secret. (Well. All three women have secrets, but it would take me about twenty paragraphs to get into all that.)

I enjoyed this book, mainly because it contained my favorite ingredients for a horror story: a crumbling and abandoned Victorian mansion turned mental asylum, a seemingly sweet but unhinged villain, and creepy children. That's pretty much all I need to get lost in the narrative.

While the ending was sort of meh, I'm going to pick up a few more of her novels and give them a go. Who doesn't like escaping into a creepy novel every once in a while?

Book #29: Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott

I tried to read an Anne Lamott book back when I was about 25 or, as I remember it now, young and stupid.

My thoughts on faith and God and all things Scriptural and Biblical and Christian were very structured and rigid and "this-is-how-it's-always-been-and-I-won't-ever-change-my-mind-about-ANYTHING"-ish, and Lamott's free and (sometimes) profanity-laced views on everything that had to do with the above-mentioned list horrified me. I remember putting the book down on my bedside table in disdain and calling a friend (because we didn't text as much back in 2005) and telling her that this book was a bunch of crap.

Like I said, I was young and stupid, and I thought I had it all figured out. If the past 11 years have taught me anything, it's that God doesn't conform to my list of rules. And my list of rules was seriously flawed. 

When I kept seeing this book pop up in my Amazon recommendation list, I was hesitant. Lamott and I had tried to be friends, but it hadn't worked before. But I decided to approach her writing one more time, and I'm so, so glad I did.

The sentences are gorgeous. There's really no other word for it. This book is about writing, and I can honestly say, you don't have to be a writer to love it. I found myself underlining and nodding and (yes, even me!) sometimes tearing up. 

My favorite passage:

“You don't want to spend your time around people who make you hold your breath. You can't fill up when you're holding your breath. And writing is about filling up, filling up when you are empty, letting images and ideas and smells run down like water - just as writing is also about dealing with the emptiness.”

I wanted to share the book with people I love and maybe that I don't love as much as I should. I wanted people to understand it with me. I wanted people to understand me. I wanted to communicate that I've always felt this way, and "oh my goodness, haven't you, too?"

If you can find a book that makes you feel like that, then you've found a keeper. 

And honestly -- isn't there something so amazing about admitting that you've been wrong about something? It makes the joy of re-discovery that much sweeter.

Book #28: Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey

Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey by The Countess of Carnarvon

Like all hot-blooded Americans, I am obsessed with all things "Downton Abbey." That show is magic, people. After I watch an episode, I walk around my house speaking in a British accent to my pets and I'm convinced I was meant to be English royalty. (Also, and this is a conversation for another time, but poor Lady Edith. I think she might be my favorite character. Girl can't catch a break.)

This book was written by the current Countess of Carnarvon Castle, where "Downton Abbey" is actually filmed, and is the backstory of the real-life family who lived there and on which the show is based. Much like the characters on the television drama, the real family had some out-of-the-ordinary experiences and interactions, and I dare say I liked Lady Almina much better than her counterpart, Lady Cora (because, come on. That faux accent makes me feel crazy after two or three minutes.). The descriptions of the castle were also enjoyable, because I feel like I've actually sat at that downstairs kitchen table a dozen times, so I could see it all in my mind.

What I really found fascinating was how reserved and restrained everyone appeared to be at that time, even when highly emotional events were swirling around them. I think we're all so used to the age of Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and the "I'm going to tell you about every emotion I have at the exact moment I have it" mindset that we've forgotten how much it wasn't like that not even 100 years ago. While I think I would have struggled a bit with keeping every feeling bottled up in public, I found myself a little envious of the privacy of secrecy. Like I said, I'm pretty sure I was meant to be English royalty. 

Book #27: Mr. Mercedes

Mr. Mercedes by Stephen King

It's no secret that I love Stephen King, and I think some of his best works are the less popular ones (hello, Duma Key). This is the first novel I've read from him that is just a straight-up crime thriller, with no supernatural elements to further the plot. Of course, there are supernatural hallucinations, but no actual ghosts. I think.

This story is the first in a trilogy involving retired police detective Bill Hodges, a man haunted by his failure to solve the last big case of his career. Before his retirement, a masked man drove a stolen Mercedes into a crowd of people at a job fair, killing several, including a child. Hodges never found the killer, and as a result, spiraled into a suicidal depression. 

Just before he decides to end it all, he receives a letter from the killer, daring him to try and solve the case before he kills again. Fueled by rage, Hodges decides to go after the murderer, and things get tricky.

I enjoyed this book for a couple of reasons:

1. I can never figure out where King is going to go before he goes there. While he lets you know early on who the killer is, you're not sure why/how or what's about to happen with that information, and it's never as it seems.

2. King isn't afraid of killing off people you think are around for the long haul. There's always a tension with wondering who's about to get written out of the story, and it definitely keeps the pages turning.

and finally,

3. He's such a good writer, guys. There's no one out there like him, and I'll be so sad when he stops writing books. I hope he has a safe somewhere with about 80 unpublished manuscripts, so I can keep reading new releases until I'm dead. For real.

Book #26: The Asylum

The Asylum by John Harwood

I read John Harwood's first book, The Ghost Writer, a few years ago, and I loved it. I mean, I loved it. I forced my mom to read it just so she could also share my obsession and also so we could discuss the maddeningly ambiguous and spooky ending. "What do you think that meant?!" I asked her. I talked about it to anyone who would listen. The book was full of everything I loved - maybe-ghosts, stories-within-stories, unsettling landscapes. I still think it's a fantastic book.

His second book, The Seance, wasn't as good. But it wasn't terrible. I was slightly disappointed, but more than ready to give his third offering, The Asylum, a try.

And oh, dear. This one...so many issues.

The plot is intriguing enough: a woman wakes up in a mental institution with no idea of how she arrived there, and is horrified to find that all of the staff of the hospital think she is a completely different woman.

So far, so good.

But then it just gets, for want of a better word, stupid. The dialogue gets muddy. The characters make obviously dumb (with glaringly deliberate foreshadowing-y flair) decisions. There are forced and uncomfortable lesbian double entendres. 

And the ending.

I have rarely read such a hurried and "oh, well - yeah, my deadline's coming up, so I'd better wrap up this story really quickly and who cares if nothing is really explained and oh yeah, I'll just suddenly kill off main characters because I don't know what to do with them now" conclusion of a story. I actually found myself double checking to see if the book was missing pages. 

So bad. I hope this doesn't mean that John Harwood is an only-one-good-book-in-him author, but I'm beginning to worry this is the case.

But if you're looking for a really great Gothic ghost story, I'd still recommend The Ghost Writer. And if you read that one, let's talk about it, because I'm still wondering about what actually happened at the end.

Book #25: Mycroft Holmes

Mycroft Holmes by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Anna Waterhouse

I love Sherlock Holmes. I love the original stories, the old movies, the new movies with Robert Downey, Jr. and Jude Law, and the new BBC Benedict Cumberbatch series, so it's no surprise that a book about Sherlock Holmes's brother, Mycroft, intrigued me.

But what really interested me was that this book was written by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Yep. That Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. It turns out the guy is a man of diverse talents and interests, and has been a big Arthur Conan Doyle fan for years. 

Unfortunately, I think the only reason this book is gaining any traction is due to its authorship. 

It's not bad. It's just not great.

I appreciate the effort, but I found my mind wandering throughout the entire book -- the plot just wasn't interesting enough to hold my attention. Everything came across to me as severely edited, probably due to the co-authorship, and at times it felt like there were actually two disjointed writing styles colliding and falling apart. 

I'll stick to the OG Holmes, thanks very much.

Book #24: Harvest Home

Harvest Home by Thomas Tryon

I'm about 100% sure I saw the TV movie version of this book when I was around 7 or 8 (I'm sure my parents didn't know about it), and it spooked the junk out of me. I have vague flashback memories of Bette Davis in some sort of frilly bonnet and of a small boy in a sailor suit on a tricycle and some little girl screaming, and when I started to read this book, I realized that those memories were from this story.

Tryon does a really great job of amping up the dread factor without making the reader frustrated by the slow pace of the story. In fact, I actually found myself enjoying the drawn-out plot and didn't want to race through to the end, which is rare for me.

The story follows a young(ish) family of three who moves to a small New England town from New York City to give their marriage a second chance. They're initially charmed by the quaintness of the homes and residents, but it isn't long before the husband begins to notice that things are beginning to get undeniably weird. Of course, he's the only one who seems to care.

I don't know what it was about the 70s, but they always seemed to nail the whole creepy genre. Maybe they were all just horrified by their clothing and hairstyles and it seeped into their writing.

Book #23: The Night Strangers

The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian

Oh, this book. I had such high hopes, but for the love. It was just bad.

The book begins as pilot Chip Linton crashes his jet into Lake Champlain, trying desperately to make a water landing as successfully as Sully Sullenberger, but failing. While he survives, 39 of the passengers don't, and he is racked with guilt. He decides to move with his wife and two twin daughters to a small New England town to start over, and that's where the trouble begins.

Chip quickly begins hearing voices and seeing various victims from the crash in his basement. They all seem to hover around a mysterious door bolted with - wait for it - 39 locks. 

Oh, yeah. And there's also a weird herb-worshiping cult of old people who want to drink the blood of their children. So there's that.

I had a few problems with this book. One, Chip and his wife, Emily, are ridiculously stupid and are quite possibly the worst parents in recent literary history. I had a hard time feeling any sympathy for them. Two, the villainous cult members are all so obviously evil that it's almost humorous. It's like sending Gargamel into a Smurf's home wearing a ball cap and assuming no one will notice it's him. And three, the ending. It's just so, so bad and cliche and everything that's wrong with a badly plotted ghost story.

I say skip it, and read a Shirley Jackson novel instead. That woman knew how to do scary right.

Book #22: The Silent Girls

The Silent Girls by Eric Rickstad

I have a hard time with protagonists I just don't like. I know a lot of people can get past that when they're reading a book by realizing that a lot of people just genuinely aren't likable, but I just can't shake the annoyed feeling. I did not like the main character of this book, and it really tainted the whole story for me.

Set in New England, the story centers around Frank Rath, a retired police detective-turned-private eye, who is sucked into the investigation of a serial killer who targets unwed, expectant mothers. I did appreciate the setting of the book - Rickstad describes the bleak, slushy winter well, and the darkness matches the tone of the book. Unfortunately, it doesn't make up for Frank Rath.

Rath is just prickly and childish for the entirety of the book. He makes stupid mistakes because he loses his temper about eight zillion times, and you can see the consequences coming from miles away. By the time I reached the end, I didn't even care that the plot wasn't at all resolved. I was just glad it was over.

Book #21: Bad Seeds: Evil Progeny

Bad Seeds: Evil Progeny edited by Steve Berman

I love scary stories. My mom told me she was watching "'Salem's Lot" on tv when she was pregnant with me and my grandmother walked into the room and told her she was going to "mark me with movies like that." I guess she did, but I don't mind. I'm not entirely sure what it is about spooky books that I enjoy, but I think it's knowing that while I'm a little nervous and scared, I'm also secure in the knowledge that I'm actually very safe in my own home. It's a passive-aggressive thrill. 

And honestly, the scariest thing of all is evil children -- 'Salem's Lot, The Omen, Pet Sematary, the dead little girls in The Shining -- they all give me the severe heebie jeebies. Children are supposed to be sweet. Children are supposed to be innocent. They're not supposed to loom over your bed at night with the butcher knife from your kitchen raised over their heads, accompanied by slightly off-key Latin chants.

This book is a collection of short stories about those not-quite-right children who stare at you with unblinking eyes and make you uneasy when you pass them in the grocery store. The most famous offering here is probably Stephen King's "Children of the Corn," but I really enjoyed the stories by authors I'd never heard of. "If Damon Comes" by Charles L. Grant and "My Name is Leejun" by John Schoffstall are particularly good. 

I heard the "Sesame Street" theme song yesterday, and it sounded vaguely creepy to me. I blame this book.

Book #20: Broken Harbor

Broken Harbor by Tana French

My friend Jessica has been after me to read Tana French's Dublin Murder Squad books for a few years, and I don't know why I waited so long. 

The coolest thing about this series is that each novel focuses on a minor character from the last novel, so you begin to feel like you're really getting the full spectrum of plot development, and each book works as a stand-alone installment.

This book focuses on police detective Mick Kennedy, who is called to the failed suburban dream home community of Broken Harbor to investigate the horrific murder of a father and two children. Only the mother was left alive, and it quickly becomes clear that someone had been watching the family closely prior to the homicide. Kennedy also has a troubled past concerning Broken Harbor, and he begins to feel old ghosts pressing in on all sides as he tries to solve the case.

This was so good that I'm going back to read all the rest of the books in the series. New author obsession: check.

Book #19: Mr. Chartwell

Mr. Chartwell by Rebecca Hunt

I'm going to admit that I bought this book because of the fantastic cover. It reminded me of the wallpaper you sometimes see in elderly ladies' informal dining rooms - comforting and old-fashioned.  I had no idea what it was about, but I just had an inkling that it would be a good choice. I'm glad I was right.

The story centers around Winston Churchill and his retirement after years as Britain's Prime Minister. Churchill suffered from occasional bouts of deep depression, which he referred to as his "black dog." This novel takes the charming approach of making Churchill's depression an actual black dog named Mr. Chartwell (but you can call him "Black Pat"), and only Churchill can see him. 

I don't want to tell too much of the plot, because it really is best if it's read without too much prior knowledge. It's not a thriller or sweeping historical saga, but I just couldn't put it down. There's something so whimsical and pleasant about Hunt's writing, even if the subject matter is quite sad.

Book #18: The Reversal

The Reversal by Michael Connelly

This is the third Michael Connelly book I've read, and my overall impression of his writing is honestly just "meh." 

Connelly falls into that James Patterson category for me: His books probably make good movies, but I don't want to read them.

I find the dialogue unbelievable, and the plot seems to just plod along pretty predictably. This story centers around his Lincoln Lawyer characters from previous novels and their efforts to re-convict a serial killer of children. The ending actually made me angry, because pretty much nothing was resolved. I know that's supposed to make us want to buy the next book, but it didn't work like that for me. It just felt like lazy writing. Sort of a "Hmm. I really don't feel like fleshing this story out, so I'll just roll it over into next year's contracted book and maybe I'll have a better ending idea by then" kind of thing.

So, yeah. This will most likely be my last Michael Connelly read.

Book #17: How the Light Gets In

How the Light Gets In by Louise Penny

Continuing my obsession with all things Louise Penny, this installment finally (finally!) ties up the ongoing "story beneath the story" concerning Inspector Gamache's battle with the corrupt upper echelon in his police force. 

While there was still a mystery not involving the long-awaited take down of some major awful characters, it was definitely secondary. Actually, my only beef with this book was that this plot-line (having to do with the murder of the last remaining member of a famous family of quintuplets) was so secondary that it almost felt as if it was brushed over and barely solved.

All in all, however, it was supremely satisfying. The people I wanted to see drawn and quartered were dealt with in just the way they should have been, and the folks I wanted to see restored to normalcy were also handled fairly. 

I'm looking forward to the next book and a completely different story (with the same cozy feel).

Book #16: Terms & Conditions

Terms & Conditions by Robert Glancy

This is a book that I'm pretty sure I got for free on a Kindle deal a long time ago and then it sat dormant for a really long time before I got around to reading it. I'm glad I decided to give it a go, because I was pleasantly surprised.  

The story begins as the main character, Frank, wakes up in the hospital after what he is told was a serious car accident. He's banged up, but aside from losing his spleen, he's expected to make a full recovery. Unfortunately, he has no memory of who he is or what he did or who anyone he knows might actually be. 

He slowly returns to his mundane life as a lawyer who specializes in legal small print, and desperately tries to remember his former life. As his memory slowly creeps back, he begins to feel a growing certainty that the people around him are not telling the truth about the circumstances of his accident and that perhaps his life wasn't quite as rosy as they'd have him believe.

The first-person narrative is told in quick vignettes based on the legal terms and conditions that make up Frank's life, and I found it extremely amusing and easy to read. I love books with lots of short chapters, and I finished it in one or two sittings. I'm mentally bookmarking Robert Glancy for future book purchases.

Book #15: The Beautiful Mystery

The Beautiful Mystery by Louise Penny

I've written before about how much I love Louise Penny's Inspector Gamache series, and this one is no exception. I was surprised by just how tense and uncomfortable a lot of this story was, however.

In this installment, Inspector Gamache and his right-hand-man, Jean-Guy, are called to a the Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups, a notoriously private monastery, to investigate the murder of a monk. When they arrive, they realize this monastery is home to a famous choir known for their gorgeous chants known as "the beautiful mystery," and the murdered monk was the esteemed choir director. 

I'm not Catholic, but I found the descriptions of the services wonderfully captivating. There's something so intriguing to me about the quiet nature of  Catholicism - the introspection and sacred rituals, the reverence for what (and Who) is holy.

For the first time, I felt like the actual murder mystery in the novel wasn't really the focus of the story. Over the course of the last couple of novels, a story-within-the-story has been woven throughout, and this brings it almost to its conclusion. Jean-Guy's portion of the book was particularly hard to read, even though readers have known his emotional breakdown was imminent. The ending was so unsettling that I immediately bought the next book so I could just feel better about where the characters ended up. 

I've yet to read a Louise Penny novel I haven't thoroughly enjoyed, and I hope she keeps cranking them out.

Book #14: The Night Sister

The Night Sister by Jennifer McMahon

I love a good thriller. I love a good ghost story. I had hoped this would be both, but it just wasn't.

I've read several of Jennifer McMahon's books, and I usually enjoy them. They remind me of those spooky, yellow-tinted movies from the 70's - you know, the ones where someone is enjoying a picnic beside a lake and out of nowhere, a vacant-faced dead woman just pops up out of the water and starts gliding towards the picnic basket. Most of her books give me the same creepily nostalgic feel.

This story, about two sets of sisters years apart and a shared dark secret, had all the makings of a good shudder-y read, but it just fell flat. The dialogue was unbelievable, and the ending made me roll my eyes. No spoilers here, but if you've seen "Sleepwalkers," you'll understand how stupid it got.

I've heard really good things about the book she came out with just before this one - The Winter People - and I'm hoping it will be a return to McMahon's earlier style.

Book #13: The Golden Ball and Other Stories

 

The Golden Ball and Other Stories by Agatha Christie

 

It's no secret that I love Agatha Christie. I think I was in 9th or 10th grade when I first read And Then There Were None, and I was hooked. She is a master of the red herring, and even though I've since read about a jillion murder mysteries, she still manages to keep me guessing to the end. Speaking of a jillion murder mysteries, I was listening to a podcast about books yesterday (I know, so surprising), and they mentioned that Agatha Christie had written like 80-something books and she is considered the expert on "murder by poison." I love geeky facts like that.

 

This book is a collection of Christie's short stories, and I found this collection to be super interesting, not because of the stories themselves, but because of the way in which they were arranged. The book starts off with fluff mysteries - no one actually gets hurt, usually a funny misunderstanding, etc. - but by the end, the stories transition to serious and somewhat heartbreaking. The last story in particular, "Next to a Dog," made me so sad and uncomfortable that I almost wish I hadn't read it. It's almost like the editors tried to soften the blow by starting the compilation off lukewarm and slowly heating the pot until it was scalding.

 

I still enjoy her novels more, but this assemblage is enjoyable for all Christie fans.

Book #12: All the Light We Cannot See

 

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

 

Some books are fun to read. I breeze through them and enjoy them. They make the perfect addition to my purse or travel bag, and they're basically the literary equivalent of "You've Got Mail" or "The Holiday" (my personal favorite movie).

 

But some books are important to read. They're harder to get through, not because the story isn't good or the writing is less-than-stellar, but because the subject matter is uncomfortable.

 

All the Light We Cannot See lands on the "Important" list for me. I'm sure you've seen it blowing up the "Best Books of..." categories all over the place, and I've had several people recommend it. I'd put off reading it for a long time because frankly, anything to do with World War II is usually just so sad. This book is all about the war. It's one of the main characters of the book. I knew I would feel melancholy while I read it, and I just didn't want to.

 

But I finally caved and started reading it about two weeks ago. Admittedly, it took me a while to get into the story. The book centers on two different children: Marie-Laure, a blind French girl, and Werner, a reluctant German recruit into Hitler's Youth. Their stories don't intersect until the very end, and by the time I finally got there, I cared. I cared a lot.

 

I don't want to give away too much of the plot, because I think it's better to slowly warm up to the story as you read, but the prose is absolutely gorgeous. I re-read several passages aloud just to hear them spoken.

 

Is it sad? Absolutely.

 

Does it end on a depressing note? Hmm. Yes and no. It's very true-to-life and the war didn't end well for anyone, really.

 

Will you regret reading it? Not one bit.

 

Go pick up a copy. Tell me what you think.