Tag: General Fiction Page 12 of 45

The Friday 56 for 9/17/21: Headphones and Heartaches by Wesley Parker

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 of:
Headphones and Heartaches

Headphones and Heartaches by Wesley Parker

We share a long hug, and I apologize for being so moody lately.

“You’re a teenager. I’d have you committed if you weren’t.” She pecks me on the forehead and all is well in our house again. “I was thinking, you start school and your new job on Tuesday, so what would you say about getting a hotel and spending the weekend in New York City?”

“Are you serious?”

She frowns. “No, I enjoy getting your hopes up and crushing them. Of course I’m serious.”

PUB DAY REPOST: Stalker Stalked by Lee Matthew Goldberg: Who Watches the Watchers? Who Stalks the Stalkers?

Stalker Stalked

Stalker Stalked

by Lee Matthew Goldberg

eARC, 245 pg.
All Due Respect, 2021

Read: September 7, 2021

What’s Stalker Stalked About?

Lexi Mazur is a pharmaceutical sales rep who has a habit of sampling her products in addition to drinking pretty heavily. When her boyfriend of about a year breaks up with her, things get worse. Her pill uptake and drinking increase, and she escapes into Reality Shows like The Real Housewives of ______, and her new obsession (literally), Socialites. She’d been heavily invested in those shows before—it was a bone of contention with her ex—but she sunk to pathological levels after the break-up.

Soon, Lexi begins showing up at locations that she knows one or more of the stars of Socialites will be, trying to put herself in a situation where their paths will cross, in the belief that it’s all it will take for them to befriend her. Once they’re friends, her life will improve and she’ll get a bit of the glamorous life they have—maybe even a role in the show.

She has some reason to think that this behavior will work—it has been the foundation (and eventual doom) of her romantic relationships.

Yeah, Lexi is a stalker—she just has a new outlet for these impulses. Her behavior and substance abuse spiral to new depths. We get some details about her prior issues and behaviors, but the novel primarily documents her descent to rock bottom.

That would be enough for most authors, but here’s where Goldberg throws in the plotline that makes Stalker Stalked stand out. In the midst of all the above, Lexi starts to sense that someone is watching her. Stalking her. Is it one of her exes? Is it someone from Socialites? Is it just her imagination, maybe a side-effect of some of the medication she’s abusing?

And then the threats begin…

Low-Hanging Fruit?

Lexi’s story aside (as much as you can do that kind of thing in this book), this book is a sharp satire and critique of TV Reality Shows.

As I read it, I wondered occasionally about Goldberg picking a target that’s too easy. Where’s the challenge in taking shots at Reality Shows?

As easy a target they might be, it’s a target that seems to demand this kind of attention and examination. The cultural impact of this kind of shows—and the social media influencer accounts (and wanna-be social media accounts) that tell the same kind of fictions—is large enough, disturbing enough, that we need as many artists in as many possible media to put them under the microscope.

Looking at this phenomenon through Goldberg’s lens something jumps out at me (and I realize that I’m probably fifteen years behind other people on this insight), this kind of reality shows provide a socially acceptable form of stalking for the masses. How many people think they’re getting a special kind of insight into the lives of these stars? A special, private, view of their day-to-day life? How many unbalanced viewers like Lexi are out there learning that this is an appropriate way to live and take the license to do the same but for people who aren’t on TV?

So, what did I think about Stalker Stalked?

I didn’t like Lexi—at all—for the majority of the novel. I wouldn’t have described myself as terribly invested in what was going on with her or in her well-being. She’s just unsympathetic, unpleasant—the kind of character that most novels would have cast as the villain (one you may ultimately find sympathy for).

As much as I wasn’t able to get invested in her as a character, I couldn’t stop reading. Something about the novel—and I really should be able to put my finger on what it was, but I can’t—gripped me like a Lee Child or Nick Petrie thriller. Compelling doesn’t quite express it—I had to know what was coming next. Lexi was like the proverbial car wreck that you can’t take your eyes off of. Also, I was pretty curious about some of the people around Lexi, how were they going to fare in the face of her problems.

Eventually, however, I started pitying Lexi. I started understanding how she got where she is and how she was tumbling toward rock bottom.

Stalker Stalked is a gripping read, a tragedy that you can’t look away from—that you can’t get enough of. It’s disturbing and thought-provoking. You’re going to want to get your hands on it.


4 Stars

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Down & Out Press via NetGalley and Lori Hettler of The Next Best Book Club in exchange for this post—thanks to all of them for this.

Headphones and Heartaches by Wesley Parker: Sweet, Honest, Heartbreaking, and Heartwarming

You know how sometimes just the right book comes at just the right time? A book you don’t realize you needed until it had done its job on your psyche? As you’ve probably guessed, that’s what Headphones and Heartaches was for me. So, yeah, this is going to be a rave. It’s also going to be shorter than I want it to be, but that’s only because this won’t ever get posted if I keep tweaking and rewriting it (this was supposed to go up seven days ago).


Headphones and Heartaches

Headphones and Heartaches

by Wesley Parker

Kindle Edition, 324 pg.
2021

Read: September 2-6, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

“One day you’re gonna look back and realize these are the best days of your life.”

I’m living in a foster home while my mother is getting treatment for a heroin addiction. If these are the best days, maybe I should just give up now.

What’s Headphones and Heartaches About?

Percy Martin is sure that the social worker he meets next to his mother’s hospital bed means well. But Percy’s not interested in what he’s offering, Percy trusts that he can do better on his own than any foster situation that Alex can put him in. When they meet, no one’s sure that Percy’s mother will survive her latest overdose, and Alex’s hands are tied.

So he makes Percy an offer—stick with this foster parent a year, and Alex will do what he can to reunite Percy and his mom. There’s an earnestness about Alex, and (he won’t really admit this to himself) Percy just wants a break from it all—so he accepts the offer.

Alex brings him to Grace Wilson*. A kind, gracious, waitress who has decided the right thing to do is open her heart and home to a teen who needs both. Percy’s life is changed forever immediately.

* I should devote 3-4 paragraphs to her, but I don’t have the time, but she’s a great character.

He has food—and never has to worry about where the next meal is coming from. She helps him get money—and learn to manage it. He learns to sleep on a bed. He makes friends—real friends. He falls for a girl. He—and he says this several times—has a chance to be normal.

And he loves it. How could you not?

But he’s torn—because the cost of all of this change is the relationship with his mother. He feels he’s abandoned her, taken away her motivation to change, removed his support from her when she needs him the most. Is having a better life worth that?

Opium’s Victims

Percy’s mom, Wanda, is never made out to be the villain of the piece. Never. She is deeply flawed, and Percy doesn’t flinch from that. But she’s also the one constant in his life and has clearly done what she can to be a mother and provider to him. She clearly loves him.

But her addiction runs her life, she battles it, but not effectively, and that has consequences for both of them.

One of Parker’s most successful moves is showing that the statistics and reports about the opioid epidemic underreports its victims. It’s not just Wanda—it’s Percy. It’s Grace. It’s Percy’s friends. If Wanda had other family or friends, they would be in that number. And it’s likely that the turmoil, emotional upheaval, and financial impact goes beyond Grace and Percy’s friends to their friends and family…and so on. Percy thinks he can even see the toll this takes on the Judge dealing with his foster care. Yes, Wanda is the primary victim, and addicts like her ought to be the focus of the efforts to combat the epidemic—but not the sole focus.

Headphones, Comedy Albums, and Mixtapes

The 3.5mm jack connects my favorite artists right into my soul like an IV, securing my hopes and dreams that wither under the assault of everyday life. They’ve been there on the nights when the heat wasn’t, at the dinner table when the food wasn’t, reminding me that better times would come, even if they couldn’t give me an estimated arrival date.

Percy finds refuge from his circumstances in movies (VHS tapes he can buy at pawn shops and the like) and music (largely pirated from public library offerings). Music is the one he talks more about, and he has strong opinions about it—while also having very eclectic tastes.

What kind of strong opinions? Aside from Rob Sheffield or Nick Hornby’s creation, I haven’t seen anyone with such detailed specifications for putting together a mixtape—and I loved watching him obsess about things like that. He has much more to say on the subject of wired headphones than I quoted above—and who cares that much about those? I could go on, but you get the idea.

Along the same lines…what he and Grace say about comedy albums? I didn’t realize other people felt that way about them, too. I really would like to see a second edition of the book (or a companion book) containing essays Percy writes for English class about things like comedy albums and their impact on his life, and various topics related to music/music appreciation. Just based on what he says in this book, they’d be fantastic.

It’s things like this that transform Percy from a pitiable kid in hard circumstances to a rounded character that you can develop an emotional bond with. Parker truly nailed this kind of thing.

Categorizing

By and large anymore, it seems that if the book is about a teenager, it must be a Young Adult novel. But it doesn’t seem as if this is being marketed as one. Would it work for a YA audience? Sure. Well, at least I think it would. But really it works for anyone who likes a good coming-of-age tale.

Percy is a teen—and his emotions swing widely and quickly as such. But anyone who is, or who can remember, what that’s like will easily be able to appreciate that. At the same time, thanks to his hard life, he has a certain perspective that gives a layer of maturity to his thinking—so snooty “adult” readers don’t have to sully themselves with something like a book written for teens.

So, what did I think about Headphones and Heartaches?

On Wheel of Fortune there’s always one guy that keeps asking for letters even though it’s clear to everyone else what the answer is. I feel like that guy right now, because in my heart I know the answer, I’m just hoping that it’s the wrong one.

With only a couple of exceptions, the adults that Percy meets after his mother’s overdose are almost too good to be true. I’d be tempted to call them all Mary Sues/Marty Sues. But part of it is that for Percy, these are responsible, caring, adults trying to help him—it’s easy to see why Percy would largely describe them in glowing terms. And even then, the adults aren’t boring—they’re interesting, funny, and inspirational.

But the exceptions? Boy howdy, they are definitely not too good (nor are they too bad to be realistic…). But let’s not focus on them

But Percy and his classmates, playmates in flashbacks, and friends are absolutely well-rounded and developed—as they’re (largely) the focus of the book, that’s the important part. They sound like, think like, and feel like teens (with varying degrees of maturity). They’re some of the better teen characters I remember reading.

You take characters like that and put them out into the world, and you’ve got yourself a good start to a novel. Add in a compelling story—and an emotional depth that fits the characters, and you’ve got a knockout. This is what Parker has delivered.

As the end neared, I jotted a note,”I am going to end up crying.” And while I didn’t technically weep, there were several moments as I finished the book that I came awfully close to it. Those moments were all over the map, I should add—heartbreaking, tragic, heartwarming, and just sweet. Parker just doesn’t get you with human grief and anger, he gets you with the wonderful moments, too.

This is a sweet book, a touching book—an occasionally hilarious book (with some truly cringe-worthy beats)—I guess it’s best summed up as a very human book. Parker got me to feel all sorts of things for these characters, to a degree I didn’t expect or was prepared for.

This is a special one, reader. You’d do yourself a favor if you picked it up.


5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Stalker Stalked by Lee Matthew Goldberg: Who Watches the Watchers? Who Stalks the Stalkers?

Stalker Stalked

Stalker Stalked

by Lee Matthew Goldberg

eARC, 245 pg.
All Due Respect, 2021

Read: September 7, 2021

What’s Stalker Stalked About?

Lexi Mazur is a pharmaceutical sales rep who has a habit of sampling her products in addition to drinking pretty heavily. When her boyfriend of about a year breaks up with her, things get worse. Her pill uptake and drinking increase, and she escapes into Reality Shows like The Real Housewives of ______, and her new obsession (literally), Socialites. She’d been heavily invested in those shows before—it was a bone of contention with her ex—but she sunk to pathological levels after the break-up.

Soon, Lexi begins showing up at locations that she knows one or more of the stars of Socialites will be, trying to put herself in a situation where their paths will cross, in the belief that it’s all it will take for them to befriend her. Once they’re friends, her life will improve and she’ll get a bit of the glamorous life they have—maybe even a role in the show.

She has some reason to think that this behavior will work—it has been the foundation (and eventual doom) of her romantic relationships.

Yeah, Lexi is a stalker—she just has a new outlet for these impulses. Her behavior and substance abuse spiral to new depths. We get some details about her prior issues and behaviors, but the novel primarily documents her descent to rock bottom.

That would be enough for most authors, but here’s where Goldberg throws in the plotline that makes Stalker Stalked stand out. In the midst of all the above, Lexi starts to sense that someone is watching her. Stalking her. Is it one of her exes? Is it someone from Socialites? Is it just her imagination, maybe a side-effect of some of the medication she’s abusing?

And then the threats begin…

Low-Hanging Fruit?

Lexi’s story aside (as much as you can do that kind of thing in this book), this book is a sharp satire and critique of TV Reality Shows.

As I read it, I wondered occasionally about Goldberg picking a target that’s too easy. Where’s the challenge in taking shots at Reality Shows?

As easy a target they might be, it’s a target that seems to demand this kind of attention and examination. The cultural impact of this kind of shows—and the social media influencer accounts (and wanna-be social media accounts) that tell the same kind of fictions—is large enough, disturbing enough, that we need as many artists in as many possible media to put them under the microscope.

Looking at this phenomenon through Goldberg’s lens something jumps out at me (and I realize that I’m probably fifteen years behind other people on this insight), this kind of reality shows provide a socially acceptable form of stalking for the masses. How many people think they’re getting a special kind of insight into the lives of these stars? A special, private, view of their day-to-day life? How many unbalanced viewers like Lexi are out there learning that this is an appropriate way to live and take the license to do the same but for people who aren’t on TV?

So, what did I think about Stalker Stalked?

I didn’t like Lexi—at all—for the majority of the novel. I wouldn’t have described myself as terribly invested in what was going on with her or in her well-being. She’s just unsympathetic, unpleasant—the kind of character that most novels would have cast as the villain (one you may ultimately find sympathy for).

As much as I wasn’t able to get invested in her as a character, I couldn’t stop reading. Something about the novel—and I really should be able to put my finger on what it was, but I can’t—gripped me like a Lee Child or Nick Petrie thriller. Compelling doesn’t quite express it—I had to know what was coming next. Lexi was like the proverbial car wreck that you can’t take your eyes off of. Also, I was pretty curious about some of the people around Lexi, how were they going to fare in the face of her problems.

Eventually, however, I started pitying Lexi. I started understanding how she got where she is and how she was tumbling toward rock bottom.

Stalker Stalked is a gripping read, a tragedy that you can’t look away from—that you can’t get enough of. It’s disturbing and thought-provoking. You’re going to want to get your hands on it.


4 Stars

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Down & Out Press via NetGalley and Lori Hettler of The Next Best Book Club in exchange for this post—thanks to all of them for this.

A Beginner’s Guide to Free Fall by Andy Abramowitz: The best and the worst things in life are sudden

A Beginner's Guide to Free Fall

A Beginner’s Guide to Free Fall

by Andy Abramowitz

Kindle Edition, 396 pg.
Lake Union Publishing, 2020

Read: August 9-11, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

The Opening

Four months from now, on a secluded beach in Turkey, Davis Winger, who came thousands of miles to start over, will drop his towel and paperback on the sand, wade into the sea, and end up under the tire of a Hyundai that has just come screeching over an embankment. He will be trapped under that car, pinned to the seabed with one final breath crowding his lungs. Time enough to lament that his daughter might now grow up without him; that he might never hear words of forgiveness from the woman he adored, and betrayed; that he might not live to build the roller coaster that his six-year-old had dreamed up from a storybook and that he had spent the summer engineering into reality. Constructing that ride, harnessing his daughter’s giddy vision into a set of blueprints, was his best shot at winning back the people he loved and hurt and lost. The promise of redemption was slipping away. All alone and far from home, he’ll reach for the surface as the sea encloses.

That autumn day was coming. But today it was still spring, a mild Saturday in May, and when Davis awakened next to his wife in the charmingly overgrown Baltimore neighborhood of Mount Washington, he was still gainfully employed and still welcome in his own home.

With an opening like that, how do you follow it up? No really, how do you? How do you get your readers to care about your protagonist and what he’s going through when you know this is what he’s headed for?

Well, enough of that…let’s get on with the post.

What’s A Beginner’s Guide to Free Fall About?

Davis Wagner has one of those jobs that you have a hard time believing people actually have, but clearly, someone does. He designs amusement park rides, like roller coasters. Which is cool enough—but he’s witty, friendly, compassionate, has a great daughter, a wonderful wife, and so on. He’s close with his sister, his father, and his father’s…partner, I guess. (she’s lived with him for years, so girlfriend doesn’t seem to fit…)—Davis’s mother ran off with her therapist when he and Molly were young, leaving them to be raised by their father.

But we know from the opening paragraph above, that this charmed life doesn’t stay charmed—after introducing the reader to this family, Abramowitz starts dismantling Davis’s life—after an accident (that Davis bears no responsibility for), his career is on the line; after something that Davis bears all the responsibility for, his marriage is in shambles and doesn’t look like it’ll recover. The only thing that Davis has left is his relationship with his young daughter in the summer before her first-grade year.

In the (apparently) four months he has left on Earth, can Davis build on the foundation of his relationship with his daughter to save his marriage and career?

There are other plotlines, sure, but this is the focus of the book and the weakness of it drags down the rest.

Molly Winger— Not Pictured

The high school yearbook was basically Davis’s personal photo album, but when Molly graduated three years later, below her photo it read: “Molly Winger—Not Pictured.” And the thing is, she was pictured. Her photo was right there, above the words “Not Pictured.” That was the essence of Molly. Seen yet somehow undetected. There but unaccounted for. Actually, she preferred it that way.

I just loved that idea—well, I mean, it’s depressing as all get out when you think about what that says about Molly—but it’s a great image.

Molly’s still pretty undetected. She writes for an independent newspaper—one limping along financially—as if there weren’t another kind—primarily writing features, but really doing whatever she has to help keep it afloat. She’s dating someone years younger than her, and in no way right for her (or she for him)—she’s smart, literate, cultured. He’s in his mid-twenties, and when he’s not working, he’s playing video games or watching horror movies with his “boys.”

While her brother is trying to put his life back together, Molly stumbles upon a series of articles that will help her confront her own demons, help her readers, and maybe get her detected by people.

I’m glad I read this book if only for the Molly storyline/storylines—Abramowitz was at his strongest here. A character you can sympathize with, chuckle at, and hope for.

Sibling Rivalry

At some point years before we meet them, Davis and Molly started playing this game—Davis would call her out of the blue, and they’d pitch horrible ideas for businesses to each other. For example, a store that sells concert T-shirts for bands that you wouldn’t want to wear in public—Hanson, Sheena Easton, Julian Lennon, Spin Doctors, and so on.

It’s one of those things that makes the most sense in terms of siblings—a running joke that they may not be able to remember the origins of, but it’s something they’ll always do. When you stop and think about it, it’s really sweet.

If you don’t stop and think that much and just read the ideas? They’re hilarious.

Tom Petty

Similarly, Davis amuses himself by working Tom Petty song titles into his conversation around or about one character. It’s a strange way of showing affection, but it works. Sure, I think it’d get annoying in real life—but it’s exactly my kind of humor.

So, what did I think about A Beginner’s Guide to Free Fall?

It took me a long time to be able to care about Davis and his woes, much less his attempts at rehabilitation. I just couldn’t shake the opening paragraph. But I eventually came around and appreciated that part of the novel (which is good, because it’s the majority).

Still, I’d have probably DNFed this if Molly wasn’t around—the character and what she does in the novel are its saving graces.

Abramowitz can write a sentence—I really enjoyed the voice, the way he told the story (well, after the opening), and the themes he explored. I laughed and was moved, and thought a little about life. A Beginner’s Guide to Free Fall is worth the time and effort, you’ll enjoy it.


3 Stars

20 Books of Summer '21

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Love by Roddy Doyle: Pull Up a Stool, Order a Pint, Listen In on This Conversation

Love

Love

by Roddy Doyle

Hardcover, 327 pg.
Viking, 2020

Read: August 19-20, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

—Well, that was how it felt, he said. —Like we’d never been apart.

—But—.

—I know, he said. —I know. We’d never been much together. But I’m talking about feelings here, not facts. Feelings. The feel of the thing.

It sounded like something he’d said before. More than once.

What’s Love About?

Joe and Davy are men in their 50s—in their 20s, they were drinking buddies, spending every weekend together at as many Dublin pubs as they possibly could. Eventually, they grew out of it. Davy moved to England with his wife. Joe settled down, too.

Now they see each other once or twice a year when Davy comes over to visit his father. It’s really the only time Davy drinks anymore. And, boy howdy, do they drink a lot.

This novel takes place over the course of one night/early morning, starting after dinner when they have a couple of drinks. Joe has a story he wants to tell Davy, he needs to unburden himself. Davy has something he needs to talk about, too, but he won’t let himself.

And that’s the novel—the two going from pub to pub, having a couple of drinks, and moving on. Sometimes out of choice, sometimes because they got a little too loud and are asked to leave. They walk a bit, sober up a touch (while continuing their conversation), and find a new pub to have a pint or two in before being asked to leave.

And if that doesn’t sound that interesting to you, have you ever listened to a couple of Irish people telling stories?

The Title

In the cleverly titled book, The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis posits that there are four different types of love and spends some time describing each.* Others have come up with different numbers, different categories. Which is just to say that the concept of “love” is a tricky one to nail down. To borrow Justice Stewart’s phrase, most of us know it when we see it, and most of us settle for that.

* It’s beside the point, but I feel compelled to list them: Affection (storge), Friendship (philia), Romantic (eros), Charity (agape).

All this is to say, it’s really impossible to know precisely what the title refers to—there are several types of love displayed in this book, and I can see some people trying to argue for which one is most fitting.

After a little thought, I’ve decided that Doyle is referring to them all (and I don’t think that’s a cop-out). It’s about two men struggling—and aided by several of the pints in the cover image—to find ways to talk about love.

Feelings

There is a reason why men don’t talk about their feelings. It’s not just that it’s difficult, or embarrassing. It’s almost impossible. The words aren’t really there

That’s from the beginning of the book, Davy’s narration noting the difficulty that Joe’s having getting his story started. It’s seen a few times after that (I should point out that at least Joe is trying, Davy’s avoiding it entirely).

Which is where beer comes in, I guess. Joe never quite expresses himself the way he wants—Davy doesn’t help that much, really—but he gets asymptotically close. The number of pints they consume to get him to the point where he gets close is enough to make my liver sick. Part of the enjoyment of this novel is watching these two try to get the words right.

—The drink is funny, though, isn’t it? You see things clearly but then you can’t get at the words to express them properly.

—Or somethin’.

—Or somethin’, yeah.

Conventional wisdom suggests that two women wouldn’t need that much alcohol—or any, really—to achieve the same ends, if not do a better job of expressing and understanding the emotions being discussed. I expect that wisdom is right (but wouldn’t die on that hill)—and the ensuing novel might be less entertaining. Still, I’d like to see someone give it a shot.

So, what did I think about Love?

—It’s a thing abou’ gettin’ older, he said. —At least, I suppose it is. So many memories, you know. It become, harder to separate wha’ happened from wha’ might’ye happened an’ wha’ didn’t happen but kind o’ seemed to.

He was looking at me.

—Is it? he asked.

—Is memory reliable? I said. —Is that wha’ you mean?

—I think so, yeah. yeah.

This is a novel about love—obviously—and old friends, memory, nostalgia, the power of reminiscing, aging, dealing with the past (whether it happened or not), family, forgiveness, trust…and a few more things, too. All discussed in the story that Joe’s telling and the stories that Davy isn’t telling.

When I read this in a couple of years, it wouldn’t surprise me if I come up with a different list of subjects.

But in a sense, it really doesn’t matter what you think the novel is about—it can be enjoyed and chewed on just with the surface. A couple of old friends talking.

Doyle’s dialogue is as strong as it ever was. The dialect makes it jump off the page, you don’t so much read this book as hear it with your eyes.* It is funny, it is tragic, it’s heartbreaking, it’s wistful, and occasionally silly. It runs the gamut—both for the characters and the reader.

* Yeah, I know, I know. Roll with it, will you?

If you haven’t read Doyle before—this is a pretty good ice-breaker. If you know his work, this is exactly what you expect (a little closer to the feel of The Barrytown Trilogy than A Star Called Henry or Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha). His idiosyncratic punctuation and approach to dialogue tags and paragraphs might cause you to stumble at first—but once you catch on, you won’t even notice it.

It’s like you’re sitting there on a night on the town with these two, just catching up with old friends and enjoying the conversation with them (even if you’re not holding up your end). And who doesn’t think that sounds like a fun time?


4 Stars

20 Books of Summer '21

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

The Friday 56 for 8/20/21: In Ten Years by Ian Shane

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56/ of:
In Ten Years

In Ten Years by Ian Shane

“You turn thirty-nine today.”

“Yeah, I know. It says so on the cake.”

“You turn forty next year.”

“I can also do first-grade math, Max. Is there a point anywhere in our future?”

“Don’t you think it’s time to find a nice girl?”

“I already have one mother, Max. I have no need for a second.”

“Sarah wants a girl to talk to when we get together.”

“I’ve brought girls.”

“None of them stick around long enough for Sarah to get attached to. Besides, you haven’t even had one of those disposable dates in a while.”

PUB DAY REPOST: In Ten Years by Ian Shane: They’re Perfect For Each Other…But Can They Make It Work? Do They Even Want to Try?

In Ten Years

In Ten Years

by Ian Shane

eARC, 261 pg.
2021

Read: July 23-26, 2021

What’s In Ten Years About?

In 2000, two Denver University students meet in such a way that practically guarantees Jack will have one of dullest (and probably worse than just dull) twenty-first birthdays. Liz unintentionally contributed to that but also did everything she could to make up for that. After this, she decides that the two of them are going to be great friends.

After spending a couple of chapters in 2000, we see them again in 2009—and it turns out that Liz’s plan to be great friends worked. They’ve become incredibly close, the Two Musketeers. They’re so close that everyone (including every romantic interest they ever have) assumes they have/are/want to be involved. The idea never really lodges with either of them—and they don’t understand why no one believes them.

We catch up to them in 2018. At some point, they’ve made that pact that you’ve seen in countless sitcoms and movies, if they’re not married by _____ time, they’ll marry each other.* In this case, it’s when Jack turns 40 (he’s a little younger than her, so at that point, they’ll both be 40), and in 2018 that’s a year away.

* The scene where the pact is made is just about perfect, I should add.

Both of them try to treat the pact as a joke—while hoping the other forgot about it. But neither did and despite the preposterous notion—they both kind of take it seriously. They can’t imagine not growing old together, why not?

And then one of them starts to realize that their interest in the pact isn’t because of a drunken promise, pragmatism, or the lack of a better option—but there just might be something right about the whole idea, a reality that’s been before them all along.

Supporting Characters

I’d intended on spending a few paragraphs talking about both Jack and Liz, and after a couple of failed attempts, I realized I couldn’t do either justice without just recapping the whole novel. So, instead, let’s talk about the other characters.

I wasn’t that far into the 2018 part when I made a note about, “Of course they end up together, everyone else they know is horrible.” Which was a little harsh, but essentially true—that’s up to and including their closest friends. Thankfully, that didn’t stay that way—sure, their friends didn’t make a great first impression, but as I got to spend some more time with them, I ended up liking them. They also proved to be good friends to Jack and Liz.

But when it comes to other romantic interests or dalliances? The reader can understand the appeal of (most) of the people they’re interested in—at least initially. But you don’t spend time thinking, “yeah, Person X would really be a good long-term partner for them.” I might have appreciated it more had I actually considered anyone to be a rival for Liz or Jack. But maybe after a few chapters, I’d already ruled out anyone who wasn’t Jack or Liz for the other.

I’m not sure it matters, ultimately. But what Shane did give each character plenty of frogs of various sides and coloring to kiss so that they’d inevitably discover their Prince/Princess.

The supporting characters, from college roommates to overbearing and overly-inquisitive mothers, to Russian hockey players to waitresses in a bar or inappropriate former students are well-written, they all stand out as pretty well-rounded (at least as much as someone who’s only around for a few paragraphs can be).

The Dialogue

I talked about this a little in the Q&A with Shane, and you should read what he said about writing it. My favorite part of this novel was the dialogue. Jack has some great lines when he’s upset or angry with someone, for example.

But what really won me over was the interaction with Jack and Liz—either when they’re being silly about something or when they’re talking about something serious. This is fitting for a contemporary When Harry Met Sally-esque story, Harry and Sally talking to each other is what made viewers fall for the pair, and Shane hits some Ephron-level interchanges with Jack and Liz.

So, what did I think about In Ten Years?

There are a few other highlights that I really don’t have the time or space to get into, I’d recommend checking out the aforementioned Q&A with Shane that I posted yesterday to catch a few other selling points for this book.

The novel is just funny—humor that arises from the situations and the characters’ inherent and reflexive wit and charm. It’s in the way they react to situations, and not because silly and madcap things happen around or to them (well, sure, there’s a little bit of that). Shane’s voice is part of it, too—but mostly it’s because these are smart, funny people who express that.

I can’t get into it without ruining anything, but there’s a chapter in the 2009 portion of the book that is my favorite chapter of 2021—it was so painful, and yet so funny. Shane was careful not to go too far in either direction, which would’ve blunted the impact. Instead, he’s able to portray the emotionally damaging circumstance and let the character’s wit and the ridiculousness of the situation keep it from being maudlin. The rest of the book is just as good, and just as balanced.

In Ten Years ticked just about every box that I can think of as a reader. I both couldn’t wait to find out what happened and didn’t want to get to the end because I was having such a blast. There’s a fresh-feeling take on a tried-and-true story (two, I’d argue), characters I genuinely liked, dialogue that I’d frequently reread a time or to before moving on, and a great mix of emotion and laughs. I wasn’t even 20% through the book when I noticed I was highlighting and making notes too often—had I stopped there, I had more things than I could squeeze into a post. I can only imagine how massive my notes collection would’ve been had I not made a conscious effort to stop. There was just so much that I wanted to remember about this book.

I know that I’m going to be talking about this book in January when I look back on the best of 2021, and I probably won’t be alone.


5 Stars

Reposting Just ‘Cuz: Classically Cool—Let’s Talk Classics!

One day, I’ll update this, if for no other reason than I’ve actually finished The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. But today is not that day. Still, I liked this post and could use a break from composing something new.


Last week, Witty and Sarcastic Bookclub posted Classically Cool- Let’s Talk Classics!, and it got me a-thinkin’, what Classics would I mention as faves?

Dickens doesn’t do anything for me, ditto for the overwhelming amount of Shakespeare I’ve read, Hawthorne makes me angry, I don’t get Melville’s appeal (but I also kind of do…I just don’t want to put in the effort)…but by and large “The Classics” (aka the Canon) are Classics for a reason (not because some nameless, faceless group of (now-)Dead, White Males exercised hegemonic powers to impose their tastes, either).

Still, there are some favorites:

Starting with The Oresteia (for chronology’s sake), this is the only existing example we have of a Greek dramatic trilogy. This series showing the fall-out of the Trojan War for Agamemnon and his family/kingdom and is pretty impressive.

Call me silly, but Beowulf has always really worked for me. I don’t know how to rank the various translations, I’ve read a handful and don’t think I ever knew a single translator’s name. I’ve meant to try the Haney translation since it came out, but haven’t gotten to it yet—the same goes for Tolkein’s. From about the same time (a little later, I believe, but I’m not going to check because if I start researching this post, it’ll never get finished) is The Dream of the Rood, a handly evangelistic tool (one of the better-written ones) in Old English.

Moving ahead a couple of centuries (I’ll pick up the pace, don’t worry, the post won’t be that long) and we get Gawain and the Green Knight, which is fun, exciting and teaches a great lesson. Similarly, we have that poet’s Pearl, Patience, and Purity. I don’t remember much about the latter two, beyond that I liked them, but the Pearl—a tale of a father mourning a dead child and being comforted/challenged in a dream to devotion—is one of the more moving works I can remember ever reading.

I want to throw in Tom Jones (technically, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling) by Henry Fielding here, but I’ve never actually completed it. Which says more about my patience and how distracted I can get than the book—which is an impressive work. I’ve gotta get around to actually finishing it at some point.

I can’t remember the titles for most of the Robert Burns poems I’ve read—”A Red, Red Rose” and “To a Mouse, on Turning Her Up in Her Nest With the Plough, November, 1785” (one of the best titles in history) are the exceptions—but most of them were pretty good. And I’m not a poetry guy.

Skipping a few centuries and we get to Alexandre Dumas’ The Three Musketeers. If all you know is the story from movies, you’re in for a treat when you actually read this thing. I’ve read it a few times, and each time, I’m caught off-guard at how fast-moving it really is, how entertaining and exciting it can be. It’s not a classic by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel compelled at this point to mention that the book about Dumas’ father, The Black Count: Glory, Revolution, Betrayal, and the Real Count of Monte Cristo by Tom Reiss is a must-read for any fan of Dumas.

I don’t remember how Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott ended up on my bookshelf (I think whatever relative took me to the bookstore said I could get something silly and trashy (in their view) if I got a Classic, too). But a few years later, I finally got around to reading it at about the same time that another kid in my class (we were High School sophomores) was reading it—both of us talked about how it was pretty good, but too much work. Until we got to a point somewhere in the middle (he got there a day before I did, I think) and something clicked—maybe we’d read enough of it that we could really get what was going on, maybe Scott got into a different gear, I’m not sure—and it became just about the most satisfying thing I’d read up to that point in my life.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë is one of my favorite books, probably belonging in the Top 3. Go ahead and roll your eyes at the idea of me saying that about a romance novel, that just means you’ve misread the book. This tale about integrity, about staying true to what one holds dear, what one believes, and to what is right despite everything and everyone around you is exciting, inspiring, fantastically written, and so-memorable. And, yeah, there’s a nice love story to go along with that 🙂

Speaking of love stories, we now get to my favorite, Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac. I steadfastly refuse to learn anything about the actual figure, because I don’t want anything to ruin this for me. When I first read the play in junior high, I considered the best parts the lead-up to the duel in Act I, and Christian’s trying to pick a fight with Cyrano the next day. Now I know the best parts are Christian’s realization in Act IV and Cyrano’s reaction to it and then, of course, Cyrano’s death (I’m fighting the impulse to go read that now instead of finishing this post). And don’t get me started about how this play’s balcony scene leaves any other romantic balcony scene in the dust.

I can’t pass up an opportunity to praise, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain’s tour de force. Satire, social commentary, general goofiness, and some real heart. This book has it all.

I’m not sure that Ambrose Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictdionary is technically a “Classic.” But I’m counting it as one. It’s hilarious, it’s incisive, it’s a great time for those who like to subtly (and not-so-subtly) play with words. Yeah, it’s cynical—but it’s idealistic, too (as the best cynics are). If you haven’t sampled it yet, what’s wrong with you?

I feel strange dubbing anything from the Twentieth Century as a Classic, so I won’t talk much about The Old Man and the Sea, The Great Gatsby, Winesburg, Ohio or Our Town (the best way short of having a dog die to make me cry is get me to read/watch Act III). But I do feel safe mentioning To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, the ground-breaking, thought-shaping, moving, inspiring, and (frequently) just plain fun look at a childhood in the south.

When I started this, I figured I’d get 4-5 paragraphs out of the idea. I guess I overshot a little. Anyway, that’s what came to mind when I read W&S’ post—maybe other works would come to mind if I did this another time, but for now, those are my favorite Classics. What about you?

In Ten Years by Ian Shane: They’re Perfect For Each Other…But Can They Make It Work? Do They Even Want to Try?

In Ten Years

In Ten Years

by Ian Shane

eARC, 261 pg.
2021

Read: July 23-26, 2021

What’s In Ten Years About?

In 2000, two Denver University students meet in such a way that practically guarantees Jack will have one of dullest (and probably worse than just dull) twenty-first birthdays. Liz unintentionally contributed to that but also did everything she could to make up for that. After this, she decides that the two of them are going to be great friends.

After spending a couple of chapters in 2000, we see them again in 2009—and it turns out that Liz’s plan to be great friends worked. They’ve become incredibly close, the Two Musketeers. They’re so close that everyone (including every romantic interest they ever have) assumes they have/are/want to be involved. The idea never really lodges with either of them—and they don’t understand why no one believes them.

We catch up to them in 2018. At some point, they’ve made that pact that you’ve seen in countless sitcoms and movies, if they’re not married by _____ time, they’ll marry each other.* In this case, it’s when Jack turns 40 (he’s a little younger than her, so at that point, they’ll both be 40), and in 2018 that’s a year away.

* The scene where the pact is made is just about perfect, I should add.

Both of them try to treat the pact as a joke—while hoping the other forgot about it. But neither did and despite the preposterous notion—they both kind of take it seriously. They can’t imagine not growing old together, why not?

And then one of them starts to realize that their interest in the pact isn’t because of a drunken promise, pragmatism, or the lack of a better option—but there just might be something right about the whole idea, a reality that’s been before them all along.

Supporting Characters

I’d intended on spending a few paragraphs talking about both Jack and Liz, and after a couple of failed attempts, I realized I couldn’t do either justice without just recapping the whole novel. So, instead, let’s talk about the other characters.

I wasn’t that far into the 2018 part when I made a note about, “Of course they end up together, everyone else they know is horrible.” Which was a little harsh, but essentially true—that’s up to and including their closest friends. Thankfully, that didn’t stay that way—sure, their friends didn’t make a great first impression, but as I got to spend some more time with them, I ended up liking them. They also proved to be good friends to Jack and Liz.

But when it comes to other romantic interests or dalliances? The reader can understand the appeal of (most) of the people they’re interested in—at least initially. But you don’t spend time thinking, “yeah, Person X would really be a good long-term partner for them.” I might have appreciated it more had I actually considered anyone to be a rival for Liz or Jack. But maybe after a few chapters, I’d already ruled out anyone who wasn’t Jack or Liz for the other.

I’m not sure it matters, ultimately. But what Shane did give each character plenty of frogs of various sides and coloring to kiss so that they’d inevitably discover their Prince/Princess.

The supporting characters, from college roommates to overbearing and overly-inquisitive mothers, to Russian hockey players to waitresses in a bar or inappropriate former students are well-written, they all stand out as pretty well-rounded (at least as much as someone who’s only around for a few paragraphs can be).

The Dialogue

I talked about this a little in the Q&A with Shane, and you should read what he said about writing it. My favorite part of this novel was the dialogue. Jack has some great lines when he’s upset or angry with someone, for example.

But what really won me over was the interaction with Jack and Liz—either when they’re being silly about something or when they’re talking about something serious. This is fitting for a contemporary When Harry Met Sally-esque story, Harry and Sally talking to each other is what made viewers fall for the pair, and Shane hits some Ephron-level interchanges with Jack and Liz.

So, what did I think about In Ten Years?

There are a few other highlights that I really don’t have the time or space to get into, I’d recommend checking out the aforementioned Q&A with Shane that I posted yesterday to catch a few other selling points for this book.

The novel is just funny—humor that arises from the situations and the characters’ inherent and reflexive wit and charm. It’s in the way they react to situations, and not because silly and madcap things happen around or to them (well, sure, there’s a little bit of that). Shane’s voice is part of it, too—but mostly it’s because these are smart, funny people who express that.

I can’t get into it without ruining anything, but there’s a chapter in the 2009 portion of the book that is my favorite chapter of 2021—it was so painful, and yet so funny. Shane was careful not to go too far in either direction, which would’ve blunted the impact. Instead, he’s able to portray the emotionally damaging circumstance and let the character’s wit and the ridiculousness of the situation keep it from being maudlin. The rest of the book is just as good, and just as balanced.

In Ten Years ticked just about every box that I can think of as a reader. I both couldn’t wait to find out what happened and didn’t want to get to the end because I was having such a blast. There’s a fresh-feeling take on a tried-and-true story (two, I’d argue), characters I genuinely liked, dialogue that I’d frequently reread a time or to before moving on, and a great mix of emotion and laughs. I wasn’t even 20% through the book when I noticed I was highlighting and making notes too often—had I stopped there, I had more things than I could squeeze into a post. I can only imagine how massive my notes collection would’ve been had I not made a conscious effort to stop. There was just so much that I wanted to remember about this book.

I know that I’m going to be talking about this book in January when I look back on the best of 2021, and I probably won’t be alone.


5 Stars

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