Category: General Fiction/Literature Page 41 of 49

by Fredrik Backman, translated by Henning Koch
Hardcover, 370 pg.
Atria Books , 2015
Read: November 20 – 24, 2015

If you don’t like people, they can’t hurt you. Almost-8-year-olds who are often described as “different” learn that very quickly.

That lesson was impressed upon Elsa pretty hard, which has left her with a very small group of people that she likes (but, like most 7 year-olds, she really wants to like people) — although in many, there’s only one person in that circle for Elsa — her grandmother. Elsa’s grandmother was her best friend, her superhero, the most devoted adult in her life.

Elsa doesn’t do that well in school — doesn’t get along with teachers or classmates — but thanks to Wikipedia, knows all sorts of things in very random areas. She’s utterly convinced of the importance of the Harry Potter series and other “quality literature,” like Spider-Man comics.

She used to write letters to Santa every Christmas, not just wish lists but whole letters. They weren’t very much about Christmas, mainly about politics. Because Elsa mostly felt that Santa wasn’t involving himself enough in social questions, and believed he needed to be informed about that, in the midst of the floods of greedy letters that she knew he must be receiving from all the other children every year. Someone had to take a bit of responsibility.

Following her Granny’s death, Elsa is given a series of letters to deliver to various people that her Granny has helped in the past, but who’ve had problems with her since. This eventually involves adventures (things both 7 year-olds and adults would consider adventures) and a lot of personal growth. As she delivers them, Elsa learns a lot about who Granny was before Elsa came along, and finds herself in a much larger world than she’d previously been able of living in.

This is just charmingly written, sweetly told, and it’ll draw you in with the language. Backman and Koch show a delight with language and people that will surely win you over. It’ll make you smile, it’ll make you giggle, it’ll make you melt a little — if your grandmother’s alive, you’ll want to give her a call — if not, you’ll miss her more than usual.

—–

4 Stars

Stepdog by Nicole Galland

By HCNewton

On December 11, 2015

In Dogs, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

Stepdog

by Nicole Galland
Trade Paperback, 386 pg.

William Morrow Paperbacks, 2015

Read: December 9 – 10, 2015

I’m going to cut to the chase, if you want to read a blurb for the book, click on the cover or title above and it’ll take you to the proper website.

Let’s start with the positives, shall we? Galland can really put together a sentence. I found much of this charming and entertaining. And I’ll never not appreciate a Roddy Doyle reference (or two).

I wanted to like Cody. She’s a dog, I always want to love the dog. But she wasn’t so much a character as she was a furry obstacle to Rory’s desired lifestyle. I kept thinking about her like Skyler White or Carmela Soprano. But Skyler and Carmela were unjustly disliked by significant portions of the audience because they served as an obstacle to their criminal husbands (which was actually commendable) while being actual characters with their own interests and points of view. Cody actually did nothing but serve as an obstacle to Rory’s selfish interest.

I wanted to like Sarah, too. But see above (except for the canine part).

Maybe it’s too much of a stretch to paint them as the anti-Skyler/Carmela, but that’s where my mind went.

Jay goes from this guy to a supervillain in a novel that didn’t seem to be about that kind of thing at all in a heartbeat. Changing this from a slightly overwritten love story to an underwhelming crime story. The climactic action was way too overblown, the denouement was too quick and tidy.

Stepdog was close to being a perfectly charming read, and settled for being a minor disappointment.

—–

2 Stars

Girl Waits with Gun by Amy Stewart

By HCNewton

On December 3, 2015

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Girl Waits with Gun

by Amy Stewart
Series: The Kopp Sisters, #1

Hardcover, 404 pg.
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2015
Read: November 27 – 28, 2015

He looked up and said, in a loud, plain voice, “She’s not a regular lady.”

That line is uttered in the final few pages of this novel, but it does a pretty good job of summing up Constance Kopp (and her two sisters, too). Fitting, really, for “of one of the nation’s first female deputy sheriffs.”

It’s 1914. Constance, her older sister Norma, and much younger sister, Fleurette, live on a farm in Northern New Jersey. They’re out for a drive into town in a carriage when an automobile slams into the side. Everyone escapes fairly unscathed, but rattled. Well, the ladies are rattled, the driver of the car, Henry Kaufman, and his companions are annoyed that the Kopps had the temerity to be on the road, much less be struck by a car. Constance demands payment for repairs, but Kaufman brushes her off.

But Constance is persistent and begins to annoy Kaufman, who’s notorious for busting a strike the year before (and should be notorious for worse). And when Kaufman gets annoyed bad things happen — a campaign for intimidation begins against the sisters. Soon it becomes a battle of wills — Kaufman’s arrogance and pride vs. Constance’s gumption, stubbornness, and sense of right.

Constance soon learns of more of Kaufman’s crimes and abuses, meeting other victims — who warn her just how bad things can be. While she tries to withstand Kaufman’s assaults, she begins to try to help other victims. At the same time, she befriends the local sheriff, one of the rare lawmen in the area who aren’t beholden to Kaufman and his peers.

There’s a lightness to the writing, but the subject matter is grim — and frequently uncomfortable. Whether it’s the persecution of the sisters, Constance’s investigation into Kaufman’s misdeeds, or Stewart exploring the events that brought the Kopps to their present circumstances, this is a hard world and it takes a certain kind of person to make it. But you wouldn’t know that from the narration, really — just as Constance maintains a proper disposition (or tries to) and manners, so does Stewart.

It would’ve been very easy to turn this into something it’s not. Probably very tempting, too. It could’ve been all about the gender disparity of the time, and a feminist crusade. Or about the economics and labor conditions of the area and time — the strikes and the way they were dealt with by the owners and police. Or any number of other things, really. And it was about those things, but primarily it was a story. A decently told story with well-constructed characters. You give me one of those, and you can throw whatever politics, economic theory, etc. you want into the mix and I’ll read it. I may not buy everything you’re selling, but I’ll listen, and if your story and characters are good enough, I’ll come back. Too many people — particularly with historical fiction, it seems — will do okay with the story, mess up the characters, but nail the agenda. Stewart avoided those pitfalls, and thereby served her audience and any possible point she wanted to better.

Now, while this is a novel, it appears that Stewart has done as much research as she could to make this as non-fiction as possible. I’ve wondered a bit about that approach, does that limit what parts of the story she tells? Which would account for some odd gaps. And if it does limit it — is that a good or a bad thing? Or does that depend on the writer? That’s probably it, for some writers, such a limit would be freeing, while others would find the restriction too much. Stewart, it seems, turns this into a strength — matching with her previous non-fiction publications.

A fun little ride, full of historical nuggets, and a family you’d like to spend some time with. A little action, a little danger, but not a lot of violence. A pleasant mix of historical fiction and mystery. It’ll work for the cozy reader, the historical fiction reader, and people who just like good stories.

—–

3 Stars

Rules for a Knight by Ethan Hawke

By HCNewton

On December 2, 2015

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, YA/MG/Children's Books

Rules for a Knight

by Ethan Hawke

Hardcover, 169 pg.
Knopf, 2015

Read: November 30, 2015

So the story goes, Ethan Hawke is a descendant of a knight who died at the Battle of Slaughter Bridge in 1483. The night before the battle, this knight, Sir Thomas Lemuel Hawke penned a lengthy letter to his young children so that they’d have something to remember him by, and hopefully learn something from him. Ethan Hawke came into possession of this letter, and after a scholar translated it for him, modernized the language so that he could pass these lessons on to his kids. Given the fact that the “Hawke” surname was once “Hawker”, there’s an ornithological flavor to all of this.

The letter, or manifesto, consists of short lessons on a variety of virtues or characteristics that Sir Thomas wanted to pass along to his son and daughters (which are awfully feminist for the 15^th Century): justice, solitude, generosity, discipline, love, humility, and so on. Virtues and ideals that are shared by many Western and Eastern cultures — something akin to what C. S. Lewis would call the Tao. The lessons combine personal vignettes from Sir Thomas’ life and training with fable-like stories (many of which are old and common — like the two dogs/wolves inside each of us fighting for control, you ought to feed the one you want to win).

Hawke’s wife, Ryan, provided the illustrations for this book. I wouldn’t say they’re dazzling, but they’re nice — and fit the material well.

This is a nice book, one that serves its purposes well. Short chapters, well (if somewhat heavy-handed) written. It’s not a must-read, but it’d be a good use of anyone’s time — particularly something for dads to read to young children.

—–

3 Stars

Review Catch Up: The Rosie Project; Where’d You Go, Bernadette; The Rosie Effect; Funny Girl

By HCNewton

On November 27, 2015

In Authors, F-J, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Nick Hornby

I’m hitting another block when trying to talk about the last few books I’ve read, because here’s another batch of very overdue takes on some good books (and one not).
—

The Rosie Project

by Graeme Simsion
Series: Don Tillman, #1
Hardcover, 304 pg.
Simon & Schuster, 2013
Read: November 6, 2013

This was charming, witty, and had plenty of heart — even without the romance, which just took it all to another level. It was just plain fun to read.

Don Tillman is just a great character — he’s likely someone with Asperger’s, if not fully Autistic. Which is mentioned once or twice, and then not brought up again. He’s then treated as a stubborn, curious, character with behavior patterns no one can seem to understand, but most people in his life figure out hot to cope with. Sometimes they laugh at him, sometimes they get frustrated or angry. What he’s not treated as is someone with anything. He’s not treated by his symptoms, he’s just treated as this guy. Simsion’s treatment of Don reminds me of Abed Nadir, from Community (which is high praise from me).

The only complaint I had was that the last chapter wasn’t really needed, and maybe would’ve been best left to the imagination. But, setting that aside, it felt rushed, while the rest of the book was so well done, it just stuck out like a sore thumb.

Still, whatever — one of my favorite books of 2013, and still one of the best RomComs I can remember.
5 Stars

Where’d You Go, Bernadette

by Maria Semple

Hardcover, 330 pg.
Little, Brown and Company, 2012
Read: January 01 – 02, 2014

Do you get seasick? People who don’t get seasick have no idea what it’s like. It’s not just nausea. It’s nausea plus losing the will to live.

I should get that embroidered on something.

This starts light and breezy, a little strange, a little typical “these crazy (white) suburbanites with too much money”; but you know it’s going to get dark eventually — probably nasty dark, but first it’s going to lull you into a false sense of fun. I don’t think it gets as dark as it felt like it could’ve, it didn’t need to, and I’m glad it didn’t — but there was a whole lot going on that the whacky beginning didn’t indicate.

You don’t have care about the story because these characters are strength enough to carry your attention for quite awhile with nothing happening — and Semple’s style is just as strong. But there is a story here, a story of a daughter discovering just who her mother was — as is — a story about a talented woman who ended up loving a life she’d never have expected or picked for herself or her family. So you do care about the story — especially the way it’s told, in bits and pieces, jumping back and forth through time, from multiple perspectives — particularly when you get two or three perspectives painting a picture of an event — as Bee digs into her investigation.

Fun story, quirky characters, well-told story, with plenty of heart — and too many quotable lines. I jotted down a few that I can’t resist sharing, even in this abbreviated post.

You probably think, U.S./Canada, they’re interchangeable because they’re both filled with English-speaking, morbidly obese white people. Well, Manjula, you couldn’t be more mistaken.

Americans are pushy obnoxious, neurotic, crass — anything and everything — the full catastrophe as our friend Zorba might say. Canadians are one of that. . . To Canadians, everyone is equal. Joni Mitchell is interchangeable with a secretary at open-mic night. Frank Gehry is no greater than a hack pumping out McMansions on AutoCAD, John Candy is no funnier than Uncle Lou when he gets a couple of beers in him. No wonder the only Canadians anyone’s ever heard of are the ones who have gotten the hell out. Anyone with talent who stayed would be flattened under an avalanche of equality.

Really, who wants to admit to her daughter that she was once considered the most promising architect in the country, but now devotes her celebrated genius to maligning the driver in front of her for having Idaho plates?”

4 Stars

The Rosie Effect

by Graeme Simsion
Series: Don Tillman, #2

Hardcover, 352 pg.
Simon & Schuster, 2014
Read: January 12 – 13, 2015

“To the world’s most perfect woman.” It was lucky my father was not present. Perfect is an absolute that cannot be modified, like unique or pregnant. My love for Rosie was so powerful that it had caused my brain to make a grammatical error.

Don and Rosie are living in New York, getting used to married life, and expecting a kid. None of which goes well — so, of course, Don tries to tackle things the same way he did in the last book. Instant sequel, just add water.

This sequel was written with the same wit and skill as The Rosie Project, but the story wasn’t there — and more importantly, neither was the heart.

Mostly, I think, because Rosie wasn’t around for a lot — and when she was there, she wasn’t a character, she was an obstacle.

Other than really liking the occasional line (maybe more than occasional), I just didn’t like how Rosie or Don were written, the plot was shoddy and contrived, and I was just glad to be done with it so I could move on.
2 Stars

Funny Girl

by Nick Hornby

Hardcover, 452 pg.
Riverhead Books, 2015
Read: February 7, 2015

How on earth could he love her? But he did, Or, at least, she made him feel sick, sad, and distracted. Perhaps there was another way of describing that unique and useless combination of feelings, but “love” would have to do for now.

Everything I know about this era of British culture and TV comes from The Hour and An Adventure in Space and Time, so I just have to trust that Hornby did his homework on this. I thought the behind-the-scenes stuff was great, it felt real — it felt like the kinds of conversations that writers and actors should be having anyway.

The love story turned out a lot different than I was sure it would – thankfully. Actually, most of the book did. This wasn’t the rags-to-riches-to-wreck story that it seemed like it was going to be, but a story of some people with dreams and talent doing what they could to get going in a cutthroat business. Dreams were chased, many were caught, others changed/grew — as did the dreamers.

In the midst of the discussions about the nature of their show and the stories they told — both during the making of the show Barbara (and Jim) and in later chapters where it was being looked back at, I kept wondering if tucked away in all that was an apologia for light fiction like Hornby writes? If so, I appreciated it. (it also reminded me of some similar comments John Cleese has made lately, after coming to terms with being someone who makes people laugh, and not saving the world or something grander)

Thoughtful, heartfelt, charming — this is Hornby at his most confident and mature. I can see why some aren’t liking it, but it really clicked for me.

4 1/2 Stars

Opening Lines – My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

By HCNewton

On November 20, 2015

In Blog Series, Currently Reading, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Quotations, Spenser

Head & Shoulders used to tell us that, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” That’s true for wearing dark shirts, and it’s especially true for books. Sometimes the characters will hook the reader, sometimes the premise, sometimes it’s just knowing the author — but nothing beats a great opening for getting a reader to commit. This is one of the better openings I’ve read recently. Would it make you commit?

Every seven-year-old deserves a superhero. That’s just how it is. Anyone who doesn’t agree needs their head examined.

That’s what Elsa’s granny says, at least.

Elsa is seven, going on eight. She knows she isn’t especially good at being seven. She knows she’s different. Her headmaster says she needs to “fall into line” in order to achieve “a better fit with her peers.” Other adults describe her as “very grown-up for her age.” Elsa knows this is just another way of saying “massively annoying for her age,” because they only tend to say this when she corrects them for mispronouncing “déjà vu” or not being able to tell the difference between “me” and “I” at the end of a sentence. Smart-asses usually can’t, hence the “grown-up for her age” comment, generally said with a strained smile at her parents. As if she has a mental impairment, as if Elsa has shown them up by not being totally thick just because she’s seven. And that’s why she doesn’t have any friends except Granny. Because all the other seven-year-olds in her school are as idiotic as seven-year-olds tend to be, but Elsa is different.

She shouldn’t take any notice of what those muppets think, says Granny. Because all the best people are different–look at superheroes. After all, if superpowers were normal, everyone would have them.

from My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman

It was really hard to stop where I did, I wanted to use the first three pages, but am pretty sure that it’d get me in copyright trouble.

If I Fall, If I Die by Michael Christie

By HCNewton

On October 27, 2015

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

If I Fall, If I Die

by Michael Christie

Paperback, 323 pg.
Hogarth, 2015
Read: October 20 – 23, 2015

When he was a toddler, Will and his mother, Diane, moved into a house in rural Canada (somewhere north of Toronto, I think) and never left. I don’t mean that didn’t move to a different residence, I mean they didn’t leave. Diane was a filmmaker — some sort of arty, documentary/montage-type thing — with some psychological issues that got more and more intense until sometime after Will’s birth. By the time he was 2(ish), these issues had pushed her to the breaking point, and she had to retreat to a home that she’d bought with her brother before his death years previous. Diane has some sort of panic disorder and a pretty strong case of agoraphobia — so strong that Will ends up exhibiting most of the symptoms without, you know, actually being agoraphobic.

About 10 years later, Will hears a strange noise in the front yard, and before he knows what’s happening, he’s outside, investigating. Sorry, that’s Outside. Where danger lurks, bad things happen, and people shouldn’t be. He meets a kid about his own age, is mystified by him and drawn to him — mostly because he seems brave, but also, because he’s someone his own age. Within a few weeks, Will is sneaking outside for short jaunts — walking around the neighborhood, looking for his friend. Soon, he convinces his mother to enroll him in school, where he tunes out the teacher, but makes a couple of friends.

From this point on, the book diverges — on the one hand, we get Will’s continued socialization, growth, and maturation. As well as a better understanding of what happened to his mother.

On the other hand, Will and his school-friend, Jonah find themselves adventuring. Jonah’s a very smart kid, on the verge of falling through the societal tracks (like most of the local Indians) with criminal brothers, and a knack for looking graceful on a skateboard. He teaches Will to skate, and how to be less awkward. The two also enact some real Tom Sawyer/Huck Finn escapades, while hunting for Will’s first Outside-friend — which brings them into contact with all sorts of nefarious individuals.

The latter of these two paths is slightly less interesting, and is executed less convincingly — although it’s clearly the more exciting and eventful. It also seems like that it’s Christie’s focus, it’s the core of the story he seems to want to tell. Sadly, it’s not the one I wanted to read (as much), especially because all of it was pretty predictable. I’m not saying it’s not worth reading, but it just didn’t do as much for me as the other stories. Titus, in particular, the homeless man they befriend (for lack of a better word) is pretty entertaining with his frequent Dogberryisms.

Will gets braver and braver, and a little wiser until he comes to the realization that something bad is always going to happen — to you, to someone you love, to someone you know, to someone you read about in the newspaper — it’s just a question of how you live until then. The question is, armed with this understanding: how will he live? Can he help his mother?

Will, Diane, Jonah — are all richly drawn characters (which isn’t too surprising, given the focus on the first two). Many of the supporting characters are about as well drawn — Will’s first school friend, Angela, was great, but I could’ve used more of her (the story didn’t require more of her, we didn’t need more of her). The villains were a bit sketchy, but there were as fully developed as the needed to be to serve their purpose (see again, Tom Sawyer/Huck Finn comparison).

The writing was insightful, and while I wouldn’t want to hold up Diane as a test case for agoraphobia, I really felt like I understood her. I felt the same about Will — I particularly liked the way that his becoming acclimatized to the Outside wasn’t a straight line, or easy growth — but it came in fits and starts, with many steps backward (some brought on by his own insecurities, some by his mother’s). His perspective (especially early on), vocabulary, worldview, and social awkwardness (the nicest way I can put it) all fit someone who’s been locked away from the world and only interacted with a loving, doting mother; television; and delivery men.

Whatever the flaws, this was a really good book, and one I’m very glad it came across my path. Michael Christie is a name I will keep an eye out for in the future.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the nice folks over at Blogging for Books for this review. Not sure they got their money’s worth, but I hope so.

—–

4 Stars

Opening Lines – If I Fall, If I Die

By HCNewton

On October 20, 2015

In Blog Series, Currently Reading, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, News/Misc., Opening Lines, Quotations

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

The boy stepped Outside, and he did not die.

He was not riddled with arrows, his hair did not spring into flame, and his breath did not crush his lungs like spent grocery bags. His eyeballs did not sizzle in their sockets, and his heart’s pistons did not seize. No barbarian lopped his head into a blood-soggy wicker basket, and no glinting ninja stars were zinged into his throat.

Actually, incredibly: nothing happened–no immolation, no blood-bath, no spontaneous asphyxiation, no tide of shivery terror crashing upon the shore of his heart–not even a trace of his mother’s Black Lagoon in his breath.

Somehow Will was calm.

from If I Fall, If I Die by Michael Christie

Whirligig by Magnus Macintyre

By HCNewton

On October 15, 2015

In General Fiction/Literature

Whirligig

by Magnus Macintyre

Paperback, 301 pg.
Marble Arch Press, 2015
Read: October 13 – 14, 2015

This is the story of a self-centered, shallow, city-dwelling fat man who takes an opportunity to reinvent himself and travels to a small town in Scotland to be the voice of a proposed wind farm. Which, of course, he knows nothing about. So, our fat man, Claypole, spends the next week bouncing around from here to there in this community, finding himself in one embarrassing/catastrophic situation after another. I think this is where we’re supposed to find humor — it never struck me as funny. These all just seemed like a guy acting without thought and finding himself being taken care of like some sort of bumbling Candide.

As anyone who’s read this setup knows, once this particular Englishman went up this proverbial hill, he developed an understanding of this community, learned some important life lessons, and whatnot before he came down the proverbial mountain.

I couldn’t tell, really, how sincere we’re to take the “green” portions of this story — there are a couple of true believers, and a cartoonish doubter or two — but the rest, their interest in/commitment to the cause seems pretty shallow. Now, that’s the characters, not the author, I grant you. But when the central plot revolves around the establishment of an environmentally friendly source of power, I expect a bit more than that.

Those people that do actually end up liking Claypole — I don’t get it. Particularly those who take a seemingly instant liking to him. He’s such an offensive buffoon that it’s hard to understand. I guess I can understand those who grow to like him when they see the man behind the awkwardness.

The people of this small town are sketchy, outside of one family, they’re fairly generic stock characters. And that family? I can’t buy them either, a little more fleshing out and I probably could’ve believed them. But pretty much, they’re just a collection of characteristics, tics, and odd wardrobes.

Whirligig has very sweet ending, and it was not exactly the one a reader would expect, but pleasant, and – like “crap telly” (Claypole’s words) had taught him, one that tied everything up nicely.

Not funny enough, not “green” enough, and I couldn’t connect the way I wanted to with anyone. Near miss after near miss after near miss takes me to a 2 1/2 Star rating.

—–

2 1/2 Stars

How to Write a Novel by Melanie Sumner

By HCNewton

On October 7, 2015

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

How to Write a Novel

by Melanie Sumner
Paperback, 287 pg.
Vintage, 2015
Read: September 28, 2015

Aristotle — but you can call her Aris — Thibodeau is a 12 1/2 year-old would-be novelist. Under the guidance of her English teacher, school librarian and English-professor mother, she’s trying to write a novel in the next 30 days. Once it’s sold, she figures she’ll be able to make enough money so her mom can quit her job, still take care of her brother with his counseling/medication and find a husband. Aris does have a candidate in mind for her step-dad, but is open to someone else. We get to see precious little of her writing, but we do get to follow her on her journey through the novel writing process, and the family turmoil and drama surrounding it. Actually, as I write that, I have a hard time believing everything that happened outside of her novel took less than 30 days.

There’s a strong self-awareness to the narration — from Aris stopping the action to describe something she’s lacking in her novel, and then providing it in the narration to the sections of the book being labeled “Rising Action,” “Denouement,” etc. Typically, it works, but there were a couple of instances where it seemed forced or overdone.

There are two really strong points to this novel. Sumner can write a sentence that just sings I grabbed three examples from the opening pages — we get voice, humor, and a crystal-clear idea of the character she’s describing (and the one doing the describing):

Diane is forty-three now, short and either curvy or chubby, depending on her mood, with a button nose and blondish bangs that are always falling in her face.

Then he grinned. Papa was old before braces came out, so his teeth are slightly crooked, just enough to make him look like he can tell a good joke.

. . . ladies in the South don’t shake hands. Instead, they fold their cool fingers over yours and press ever so gently, leaning in close until you smell breath mints and the eau de toilette behind each ear. Then they say something awful. A few days after Joe [Aris’ father] died, Grandma and knelt beside Diane’s [Aris’ mother] bed and folded her fingers over her hand. After looking into her eyes for a moment, she whispered, “Why didn’t he ever have a better job?”

Don’t ya just luuuuv Grandma?

The other strong point (maybe half of a point) is her characters — Aris, Diane, her brother Max — are great. Diane’s student, Charles and his mother are pretty well-drawn. The librarian Ms. Chu wasn’t that fleshed out, but she didn’t need to be, and she was well drawn enough that you want to see more. These are real people, you could build a book around any of them alone. But the rest — and I’m only talking about characters that should be well-drawn — just aren’t. Aris’ grandparents don’t become much more than they were described above. The worst is Aris’s choice for her future step-dad, their current volunteer nanny: Penn MacGuffin^*. He’s an accumulation of ticks, quirks, and clichés, but there’s not a person in the middle of that.

The more I think about it, the less I’m sure I like How to Write a Novel as a novel, however frequently clever it is. There are some great scenes, dazzling sentences, charming characters here; it was a pleasure to read. But I’m just not sure there’s much there beyond that.

—
^* I’m not going to mention how long it took me to realize what his name meant — let’s just say it was before this moment, and I felt really, really stupid

—–

3 Stars