Tiffany McDaniel - The Irresponsible Reader

My Favorite Non-Crime Fiction of 2023

On January 5, 2024

In Fantasy, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, News/Misc., Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy

2023 Favorite Non-Crime
Back when I started this site, I knew the content would be largely “genre”-oriented. I’d have wagered the content would be roughly 1/3 Mystery/Detective fiction, 1/3 Urban Fantasy, and slightly less than 1/3 SFF, with “non-genre” fiction, humor, and non-fiction being enough to make my one-thirds just an approximation (honestly, if you asked me what I read regularly, that’s pretty much how I’d describe it today). Actual numbers show that’s wrong—it’s typically almost 40% Crime/Thriller Fiction, the rest of fiction is around 30% combined. This is just a long-winded way to get to these two points: because Crime Fiction takes such a big chunk of my reading, it gets its own “Favorite” list, but none of the others really garner enough numbers for their own.

When it comes to this particular list of favorites this year, it was harder than I expected. I got it down to 17 with relatively no problem. But trimming those last 7 was difficult. I waffled a bit—and considered a top 15, but I talked myself out of it and have a list of 10 favorite non-Crime Fiction Novels of 2023 that I really like. Hopefully, you will, too.

As always, re-reads don’t count—only the works that were new to me.

(in alphabetical order by author)

Chain-Gang All-Stars

by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

My original post
If there’s a book I’ve recommended more frequently this year, I can’t think of it. I’ve also bought more copies of it to give away than any other. At the core, this is a satire and critique of the American culture–particularly as it relates to sports, mass entertainment, and (most importantly) the carceral system. Pitting convicted felons against each other in gladiatorial fights-to-death, selling merch featuring them, turning them into Reality TV personalities between bouts…Adjei-Brenyah holds up the worst of the US to look at.

It’s a book about death—violent death at the hands of violent people who only hope to go on so they can kill again—However, in a serious way the book is really about life. It’s a celebration of life, a call to protect it, a call to see it for what it is. It’s a reminder that “where life is precious, life is precious.” It’s impossible to read this without being moved–perhaps to action. But it’s also a visceral and exciting read that can entertain you without forcing you to think deeply about what it wants you to.

(I don’t know why I knocked it 1/2 a star at the time…I can’t think of a reason for it now, but…)

4 1/2 Stars

Partial Function

by JCM Berne

My original post
This has none of the socially redeeming characteristics of the above book. But it does have wuxia-inspired magical martial arts, super-powered dinosaur-like monsters, a John Wick/Bryan Mills character if played by Michelle Yeoh, and snappy dialogue. It’s a story about a retired warrior who gets back to work so she can rescue her kidnapped daughters and the wake of destruction that follows (a mighty wake it is, too). And it’s just fun from beginning to end.

5 Stars

The Perception Of Dolls

by Anthony Croix, Edited by Russell Day

My original post
I did an inadequate job of describing this book and what I was blown away by in 15 paragraphs. There’s no way I’m going to manage it in the 1-2 paragraphs I give myself for this.
I’m dazzled by this book. I was hooked to an extent I’m not used to. I was captivated. I was (at least momentarily) obsessed with it. That’s worn off in the 50 weeks it’s been since I’ve finished, but it would take me no more than 5 pages of a re-read to get back to that. This is a recounting of one investigative reporter’s look into a triple homicide and attempted suicide in a home, the paranormal research that occurred in that home decades later, and the very strange (to put it mildly) things that happened to everyone involved in both of those things.

Russell Day takes you on a ride that you will find difficult to articulate (which is fine, he does a fine job of it on his own) and that will linger in the back of your mind for a long time.

5 Stars

The Hero Interviews

by Andi Ewington

My original post
The child and sibling of heroic adventurers, Elburn Barr, has taken a different path in life—one fit for someone with his particular set of skills (or lack thereof). He is a Loremaster—no spells, weapons, or danger for him, thank you very much. At this point in his life/career, Elburn has set out to understand what makes a hero tick—what is it that drives them, what early influences molded them, how do they keep going on? Does it vary from type to type? Are Barbarians made of different stuff from a Cleric or a Thief? What about a Ranger or a Wizard? In addition to interviewing various leading examples of each type of hero, he talks to non-heroes, too. Like a farmer whose farm was saved(?) by some heroes from a dragon, the curator of a hero museum, people who run/design dungeons, etc.

This is a novel trying to look like a series of comic episodes/scenes/lines. It takes a while to see the plotlines emerge—it really does seem to be a light-hearted look at D&D clichés, stereotypes, tropes, etc. at the beginning—but eventually, you start to see the story arcs emerging and even start to see the protagonist grow and develop. That’s something I didn’t expect to see when I started reading this because I did think it was just a series of comedic bits. It’s hard to tell if Ewington is more interested in telling a story or making his jokes—in the end he gives you enough of both that the question is academic.

4 Stars

Not Prepared

by Matthew Hanover

My original post
Hanover’s fourth novel is the first to have a protagonist outside of their 20s, and the added maturity pays off. While this book is at heart a Rom-Com, the romantic story takes a backseat to the love story between the girl who needs a family and a bachelor who didn’t expect one. There’s still plenty of “rom”, and a good amount of “com” of a handful of stripes (particularly when it comes to a single man being thrust into dealing with a young girl at the cusp of puberty)—but there’s a lot more, too. Told with Hanover’s trademark wit, charm, and grace—prose that moves so smoothly you don’t realize how long you’ve spent sucked into his book. The emotions are real and grounded—both positively and negatively. His depictions of anxiety really impressed me, and there are scenes that got me choked up.

4 1/2 Stars

An Inheritance of Magic

by Benedict Jacka

My original post
Any fears anyone had about Jacka’s post-Alex Verus career should have been assuaged by this book. It’s an introduction to a new kind of magic, a new kind of magic society, and a protagonist who is so different from Verus that you wouldn’t guess that Jacka wrote it if you didn’t have his name all over the place. This is kind of the reverse of the Hanover book—Jacka moves on from a mature character who knows his place in the world to one who is immature, unsure of his own abilities, and a complete beginner to the magical society of England (and, presumably, the rest of the world). And Jacka nails all of it. I couldn’t believe how easily I took to this world and I anticipate getting more immersed in it.

4 1/2 Stars

Mrs. Covington’s

by K.R.R. Lockhaven

My original post
The thing with Cozy Fantasy is that the plot comes second (if not tertiary) to things like character and atmosphere. Mrs. Covington’s shines here–it’s such a pleasant, comfy atmosphere that it trumps everything else. A treasure hunt with the staff of the friendliest bar this side of Cheers! might be the plot of this cozy fantasy novel. But the book’s core is kindness, community, optimism, and helping. Also, Nachos. Brought to you in a great fantasy world with a light and engaging voice, Mrs. Covington’s will leave you snug and content.

4 Stars

On the Savage Side

by Tiffany McDaniel

My original post
This was just a brutal read. Every time you get a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of a feeling that things might be okay for some of these characters—something snuffs it out. But there’s another source right around the corner. But there’s beauty in the darkness. And a drive to keep persevering shared by the reader and the characters. I wondered more than once why some of them kept trying—but they did. There’s a serial killer on the loose, and a good deal of the plot is about that. But this isn’t about the hunt for the killer or anything like that. It’s a novel about the women who may be his target and their fears about it. It’s also about the rest of their lives—how they got to the point where the killer might be hunting them and what might happen if they get out of there.

Like always, Tiffany McDaniels delivered a book that’s going to stay in my subconscious for a while—lurking there, making me rethink what I read from time to time. It’ll probably stay there until her next novel comes along (Betty‘s been there for a couple of years, and really only was dislodged by this one—and The Summer that Melted Everything is still there all these years later). It’s somber, it’s sober, and it’s difficult to read. But it’s so worth it in ways I cannot adequately explain. It’ll make you think. It’ll make you feel.

4 1/2 Stars

According to Mark

by H. B. O’Neill
Unlike the first 8 books on this list, I haven’t written anything about this until now. The pitch I was given about the book was, “It’s about a love affair gone wrong and a guy who’s obsessed with Mark Twain who becomes a voice in his head that eventually leads to Twain pushing the fella towards suicide.” I don’t know if this makes it sound appealing to you or not. So let me say this: If Chain-Gang All-Stars is the book I’ve recommended most this year, then According to Mark is in 3rd or 4th place. Given that I read it at the end of November, that tells you how much I’ve been talking about it lately. It’s comic. It’s dark. It’s disturbing (on more levels and in more ways than I can describe). There’s a fantastic and real love story in the center of it. It’s heartbreakingly sad. If you’ve read anything like this before now, I’d be surprised (and I want to know what it is!), but you’re going to want to read this when it’s published soon.

There’s more I should say, but I’m going to do it in a longer format.

5 Stars

Guards! Guards!

by Terry Pratchett
I spent some time earlier this fall asking for recommendations to get me to give Discworld another shot—and overwhelmingly, this book was recommended to me. Everyone who did that was utterly correct. It’s one of the best mixes of story and comedy that I can recall reading and I can see after a re-read or two (which it’ll almost certainly get from me) that at least one book in this series within the Discworld series is going to end up in my pantheon of comedic greats. I’m working hard to ensure I get to the rest of these in 2024 because now that I understand what I was missing with Pratchett, I don’t want to miss out any longer.

4 1/2 Stars

PUB DAY REPOST: On the Savage Side by Tiffany McDaniel: A Funeral for Dreams

By HCNewton

On February 14, 2023

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

On the Savage Side

by Tiffany McDaniel

DETAILS:
Publisher: Knopf
Publication Date: February 14, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 464 pg.
Read Date: January 23-31, 2023

So, you can tell from the title of this post, that this is not a happy tale. The other big hint along those lines is the author’s name. I’m sure that Tiffany McDaniel is perfectly capable of writing a fun romp of a novel—I just have no evidence that she’s interested in doing so.

When you do see her name on a cover, you know a few things going in—the book is going to feature some sort of childhood trauma; the beautifully stylized dialogue (that doesn’t even pretend to be realistic); and prose that can only be described as gorgeous.

Everything else may differ from book to book, but the above are pretty much a given at this point.

What’s On the Savage Side About?

We meet 6-year-old twin sisters Arc and Daffy on the day their father died. Believe it or not, this is likely the best their life is going to be for the rest of this book. They spend most of their childhood in a home with their mother and aunt (I’m very carefully not saying they were raised by their mother and aunt), prostitutes who spend what little money they have on drugs—heroin, primarily. There are brief periods where the children are taken care of by their grandmother—who is kind, loving, and able to take care of them—but those are brief.

We see them age—struggling to separate themselves from their mother and aunt, and eventually following in their footsteps in addiction and profession. As adults, Arc’s focus is her (more fragile) sister’s safety and well-being. It’s because of Daffy that she finds a rehab facility, there’s a (probable) serial killer out there leaving women’s bodies in the river, and Arc is determined to not let Daffy become the next. Hopefully, she can prevent her friends from being the next, too.

Interspersed with chapters describing their lives (with some time jumping involved), we get some selections from their mother’s diary—back when she was capable of keeping one. We see her struggle with addiction and knowing the danger she poses to her daughters (and I was so glad when the book gave us that—it was the first maternal action I saw from her, but we didn’t get to see it for a long time).

We also get chapters describing the point-of-view of the river that flows near their town. How it reacts to being where the bodies of women are discarded, along with its thoughts on other things as well. It’s these chapters—particularly early on—that give the novel its depth and perspective. It feels to me like those chapters are McDaniels speaking with the least amount of artifice. The river feels like her voice unfiltered through the devices she uses the rest of the time.

Chillicothe, Ohio

Until I started this book, I knew Chillicothe, Ohio as the birthplace of Archie Goodwin of Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe books. I half-assumed it was a fictional location, and never bothered to look it up. Now I know that it exists, and I’m going to have a hard time reestablishing the positive associations I had with the name. It feels like a great place to be from, not a great place to be. I’m sure that it’s a perfectly fine place in reality, but the small city does not come across very well in these pages.

So, what did I think about On the Savage Side?

This was just a brutal read. Every time you get a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of a feeling that things might be okay for some of these characters—something snuffs it out. But there’s another source right around the corner. But, to go back to that line from the novel I borrowed above—the book is full of funerals for dreams.

But there’s beauty in the darkness. And a drive to keep persevering shared by the reader and the characters. I wondered more than once why some of them kept trying—but they did. The mother of one of Arc’s adult friends is a strong vision of enduring love and hope—she’s always ready to help her daughter no matter how tight the grip of addiction is on her at the time. She’s always trying, always striving to give her daughter the care she needs—even when (especially when) there’s no reason to think it’ll do any good.

I mentioned a serial killer above—it’s not a serial killer novel, though. It’s a novel about the women that may be his target and their fears about it. But people looking for a Thomas Harris read will be disappointed. Actually, people looking for most things you find in typical novels will be disappointed. Many of the looming questions in our characters’ lives are left unanswered. But you don’t walk away frustrated that you don’t get the answers like you would from other novels—because we’re given answers to questions we never thought to ask. Some of those are more important, too.

Like always, Tiffany McDaniels delivered a book that’s going to stay in my subconscious for a while—lurking there, making me rethink what I read from time to time. It’ll probably stay there until her next novel comes along (Betty‘s been there for a couple of years, and really only was dislodged by this one—and The Summer that Melted Everything is still there all these years later). It’s somber, it’s sober, and it’s difficult to read. But it’s so worth it in ways I cannot adequately explain. It’ll make you think. It’ll make you feel.

I’m having a hard time articulating exactly why you should read this without getting into the details—if you’ve read McDaniels before, you know what I’m saying. If you haven’t—it’s time to.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Knopf via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

4 1/2 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, the opinions expressed are my own.

On the Savage Side by Tiffany McDaniel: A Funeral for Dreams

By HCNewton

On February 6, 2023

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

On the Savage Side

by Tiffany McDaniel

DETAILS:
Publisher: Knopf
Publication Date: February 14, 2023
Format: eARC
Length: 464 pg.
Read Date: January 23-31, 2023

So, you can tell from the title of this post, that this is not a happy tale. The other big hint along those lines is the author’s name. I’m sure that Tiffany McDaniel is perfectly capable of writing a fun romp of a novel—I just have no evidence that she’s interested in doing so.

When you do see her name on a cover, you know a few things going in—the book is going to feature some sort of childhood trauma; the beautifully stylized dialogue (that doesn’t even pretend to be realistic); and prose that can only be described as gorgeous.

Everything else may differ from book to book, but the above are pretty much a given at this point.

What’s On the Savage Side About?

We meet 6-year-old twin sisters Arc and Daffy on the day their father died. Believe it or not, this is likely the best their life is going to be for the rest of this book. They spend most of their childhood in a home with their mother and aunt (I’m very carefully not saying they were raised by their mother and aunt), prostitutes who spend what little money they have on drugs—heroin, primarily. There are brief periods where the children are taken care of by their grandmother—who is kind, loving, and able to take care of them—but those are brief.

We see them age—struggling to separate themselves from their mother and aunt, and eventually following in their footsteps in addiction and profession. As adults, Arc’s focus is her (more fragile) sister’s safety and well-being. It’s because of Daffy that she finds a rehab facility, there’s a (probable) serial killer out there leaving women’s bodies in the river, and Arc is determined to not let Daffy become the next. Hopefully, she can prevent her friends from being the next, too.

Interspersed with chapters describing their lives (with some time jumping involved), we get some selections from their mother’s diary—back when she was capable of keeping one. We see her struggle with addiction and knowing the danger she poses to her daughters (and I was so glad when the book gave us that—it was the first maternal action I saw from her, but we didn’t get to see it for a long time).

We also get chapters describing the point-of-view of the river that flows near their town. How it reacts to being where the bodies of women are discarded, along with its thoughts on other things as well. It’s these chapters—particularly early on—that give the novel its depth and perspective. It feels to me like those chapters are McDaniels speaking with the least amount of artifice. The river feels like her voice unfiltered through the devices she uses the rest of the time.

Chillicothe, Ohio

Until I started this book, I knew Chillicothe, Ohio as the birthplace of Archie Goodwin of Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe books. I half-assumed it was a fictional location, and never bothered to look it up. Now I know that it exists, and I’m going to have a hard time reestablishing the positive associations I had with the name. It feels like a great place to be from, not a great place to be. I’m sure that it’s a perfectly fine place in reality, but the small city does not come across very well in these pages.

So, what did I think about On the Savage Side?

This was just a brutal read. Every time you get a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of a feeling that things might be okay for some of these characters—something snuffs it out. But there’s another source right around the corner. But, to go back to that line from the novel I borrowed above—the book is full of funerals for dreams.

But there’s beauty in the darkness. And a drive to keep persevering shared by the reader and the characters. I wondered more than once why some of them kept trying—but they did. The mother of one of Arc’s adult friends is a strong vision of enduring love and hope—she’s always ready to help her daughter no matter how tight the grip of addiction is on her at the time. She’s always trying, always striving to give her daughter the care she needs—even when (especially when) there’s no reason to think it’ll do any good.

I mentioned a serial killer above—it’s not a serial killer novel, though. It’s a novel about the women that may be his target and their fears about it. But people looking for a Thomas Harris read will be disappointed. Actually, people looking for most things you find in typical novels will be disappointed. Many of the looming questions in our characters’ lives are left unanswered. But you don’t walk away frustrated that you don’t get the answers like you would from other novels—because we’re given answers to questions we never thought to ask. Some of those are more important, too.

Like always, Tiffany McDaniels delivered a book that’s going to stay in my subconscious for a while—lurking there, making me rethink what I read from time to time. It’ll probably stay there until her next novel comes along (Betty‘s been there for a couple of years, and really only was dislodged by this one—and The Summer that Melted Everything is still there all these years later). It’s somber, it’s sober, and it’s difficult to read. But it’s so worth it in ways I cannot adequately explain. It’ll make you think. It’ll make you feel.

I’m having a hard time articulating exactly why you should read this without getting into the details—if you’ve read McDaniels before, you know what I’m saying. If you haven’t—it’s time to.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Knopf via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.

4 1/2 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, the opinions expressed are my own.

PUB DAY REPOST: Betty by Tiffany McDaniel: A Beautiful Novel about a Tragic Childhood

By HCNewton

On August 18, 2020

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

Betty

by Tiffany McDaniel

eARC, 480 pg.
Knopf, 2020

Read: July 25-28, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

I’ve struggled with this one for days now and was tempted to say something like, “It’s a Tiffany McDaniel book. This means the writing is gorgeous, the subject will provoke you, you will be moved. And did I mention it’s wonderfully written?” But I knew I couldn’t post that…it doesn’t actually tell you anything about this book (“Tiffany McDaniel” and “gorgeous writing” is essentially a tautology) and since when do I express myself in twenty-seven words?

Who’s Betty About?

Yeah, I normally ask what a book is about, but the what is so unimportant in this book a reader could be excused for not remembering. You won’t forget the who anytime soon. The who is what matters.

It’s about a young, poor family’s struggles between 1939 and 1973—with a focus on 1961-73 (when Betty was 7-19) when the family settles in Appalachian Ohio (and largely stays there). The father is of Cherokee descent (Tsa-la-gi. A-vn-da-di-s-di), the mother is white—and you can imagine how easy life was for them and their children in that time (harder for Betty who takes more after her Cherokee lineage, while her siblings favor their mother). While none of the children has an easy life, there’s a greater degree of difficulty of Betty.

I could spend a good deal of time talking about various family members, but I’m going to focus on two of them.

Landon Carpenter (a.k.a. “Dad”)

When Landon Carpenter met Alka Lark, he was working as a gravedigger, he later worked at a clothespin factory—and then several other jobs, including a stint in a coal mine (which left him with a permanent limp due to a beating given by racists), while the family moved from state to state. When they settled in Breathed, Ohio*, he became known for selling moonshine, herbal remedies (based on “Cherokee wisdom” that was essentially what he happened to make up on the spot), and hand-crafting furniture.

* A fictional city that also served as the setting for The Summer that Melted Everything—one of several nods to that work included here.

But really, what he does with his time is father his children and try to take care of his wife. They don’t all appreciate it, or understand what he’s doing, but they’re (largely) devoted anyway. He will be frequently found passing on a bit of received knowledge through myths or parable form. He wasn’t ready to be a father when he became one and two decades later, he still wasn’t entirely ready when Betty arrived (or her younger siblings, either), but he rises to the occasion as best as he can. I don’t get the picture that he’s the easiest guy to get to know or get along with for prolonged periods. But for those who do get to know him, he’s clearly a loyal and supportive friend.

Betty (a.k.a. “Little Indian”)

Either as a quirk of personality or because she’s physically closer to her Cherokee heritage (likely a combination), Betty embraces the cultural lessons her father passes down more readily than her siblings do—and always wants more. She’s naive, inquisitive, and somehow despite everything she witnesses innocent and optimistic (not precisely, but that’s the best word I can come up with). Life hands her horrible experience after horrible experience, and while momentarily cowed, she comes back, wiser, but still innocent. Toward the end of the book, she has a couple of experiences (one thing she’s told about, one thing she witnesses) that drive her to the breaking point—but even then she holds on for a little longer.

She’s our Point of View character and doesn’t understand everything that’s going on around her for most of the book—things really kick off when she’s seven, after all. So we see a lot of the book through unreliable eyes, but very reliable emotions and reactions. From the latter, we can get a good understanding of what’s going on, better than she can.

The Magic (for lack of a better word)

In McDaniel’s The Summer that Melted Everything, many things happen that may be supernatural or magical in origin, there’s a semi-magical realism feel to it. That’s not the case here. Nor is the source of the “magic” in this novel one mysterious stranger.

The power that keeps Dad and Betty—and the rest of the family—going comes from story. Dad’s constantly telling stories to his children, Betty in particular—and, we learn, he even tells stories to his friends (I don’t think Landon’s wife has much patience for many such stories, as much as she needs them). Betty typically doesn’t tell her stories to anyone, but she writes them down, filling notebooks with them. Some she keeps, some she buries (to preserve or to hid), some she gives away. By their use of story—sometimes use of words—Dad and betty keep themselves, and those around them, going. They inspire, encourage, and teach with them.

A story that Betty’s mother tells her is arguably the most powerful story in the novel—and it explains more of the novel than anything else. Her story, is wholly true, and wholly heartbreaking, but even that comes down to the power of storytelling.

Drawbacks to the book

I don’t really want to label these as problems with the book, but there are a few things that keep me from being as enthusiastic about Betty as I was for The Summer that Melted Everything (which I am enthusiastic about to this day). I basically proselytized readers over that book, I won’t go that overboard for this.

The first is that it took me far longer than it should have to get what McDaniel was trying to accomplish, I kept waiting for a plot to emerge, and there’s never much of one by design. Instead, as I indicated above, this is about the characters. Growing, developing, faltering, stumbling, and retreating. It’s about how they react to the events (or non-events) in their lives that matters, now the events themselves. It’s entirely possible that this is all me and not the text. But I don’t think that’s the case (or I wouldn’t have gone on about it).

Secondly, the non-Carpenter characters. With two notable exceptions (the town Doctor who comes running when they call; and a friend of Landon’s who rents them the house they settle in. But the rest of the people (almost without exception), are simply horrible. Some of the Carpenters are okay, and most of them demonstrate growth (at least). But everyone else is horrible, blatantly so…so many people in authority of varying degrees are just horrible, spiteful, evil people. And it’s just hard to read that. I firmly believe in man’s inhumanity to man, but it’s usually tempered, at least on the surface/occasionally, with something positive. We aren’t given anything to look to and say, “Hey, there’s someone decent”, or “There’s someone doing something decent. Spiteful, racist, ignorant, misogynous, capricious, and evil. Those are the words that come to mind as I think about the non-Carpenter characters, and it’s just hard to read them.

So, what did I think about Betty?

I started off liking it, and that feeling slowly grew. There weren’t many moments that wow’ed me, but there were a handful that broke my heart. I sincerely want another 50 pages of the Dad’s odd little myths (some of which, I’m pretty sure contradict themselves, which Betty sees and rolls with). I wanted to help Betty through her challenges, to at least shoulder some of her burden with her.

And did I mention the prose is fantastic?

That said, I don’t think I connected with the characters (particularly those who aren’t Dad or Betty) the way McDaniel wanted me to. I don’t think there’s enough going on to urge people to read this, but I will recommend it strongly. That said, I think I will be in the minority with this book and most readers won’t understand my hesitation to rave over this. I do recommend this book, I do plan on re-reading it in a year or two, and I will be first in line for McDaniel’s next book.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this. I also want to thank McDaniel for approaching me to let me know it was available for request. None of the above kept me from giving my honest opinion.

4 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.

Betty by Tiffany McDaniel: A Beautiful Novel about a Tragic Childhood

By HCNewton

On August 7, 2020

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

Betty

by Tiffany McDaniel

eARC, 480 pg.
Knopf, 2020

Read: July 25-28, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

I’ve struggled with this one for days now and was tempted to say something like, “It’s a Tiffany McDaniel book. This means the writing is gorgeous, the subject will provoke you, you will be moved. And did I mention it’s wonderfully written?” But I knew I couldn’t post that…it doesn’t actually tell you anything about this book (“Tiffany McDaniel” and “gorgeous writing” is essentially a tautology) and since when do I express myself in twenty-seven words?

Who’s Betty About?

Yeah, I normally ask what a book is about, but the what is so unimportant in this book a reader could be excused for not remembering. You won’t forget the who anytime soon. The who is what matters.

It’s about a young, poor family’s struggles between 1939 and 1973—with a focus on 1961-73 (when Betty was 7-19) when the family settles in Appalachian Ohio (and largely stays there). The father is of Cherokee descent (Tsa-la-gi. A-vn-da-di-s-di), the mother is white—and you can imagine how easy life was for them and their children in that time (harder for Betty who takes more after her Cherokee lineage, while her siblings favor their mother). While none of the children has an easy life, there’s a greater degree of difficulty of Betty.

I could spend a good deal of time talking about various family members, but I’m going to focus on two of them.

Landon Carpenter (a.k.a. “Dad”)

When Landon Carpenter met Alka Lark, he was working as a gravedigger, he later worked at a clothespin factory—and then several other jobs, including a stint in a coal mine (which left him with a permanent limp due to a beating given by racists), while the family moved from state to state. When they settled in Breathed, Ohio*, he became known for selling moonshine, herbal remedies (based on “Cherokee wisdom” that was essentially what he happened to make up on the spot), and hand-crafting furniture.

* A fictional city that also served as the setting for The Summer that Melted Everything—one of several nods to that work included here.

But really, what he does with his time is father his children and try to take care of his wife. They don’t all appreciate it, or understand what he’s doing, but they’re (largely) devoted anyway. He will be frequently found passing on a bit of received knowledge through myths or parable form. He wasn’t ready to be a father when he became one and two decades later, he still wasn’t entirely ready when Betty arrived (or her younger siblings, either), but he rises to the occasion as best as he can. I don’t get the picture that he’s the easiest guy to get to know or get along with for prolonged periods. But for those who do get to know him, he’s clearly a loyal and supportive friend.

Betty (a.k.a. “Little Indian”)

Either as a quirk of personality or because she’s physically closer to her Cherokee heritage (likely a combination), Betty embraces the cultural lessons her father passes down more readily than her siblings do—and always wants more. She’s naive, inquisitive, and somehow despite everything she witnesses innocent and optimistic (not precisely, but that’s the best word I can come up with). Life hands her horrible experience after horrible experience, and while momentarily cowed, she comes back, wiser, but still innocent. Toward the end of the book, she has a couple of experiences (one thing she’s told about, one thing she witnesses) that drive her to the breaking point—but even then she holds on for a little longer.

She’s our Point of View character and doesn’t understand everything that’s going on around her for most of the book—things really kick off when she’s seven, after all. So we see a lot of the book through unreliable eyes, but very reliable emotions and reactions. From the latter, we can get a good understanding of what’s going on, better than she can.

The Magic (for lack of a better word)

In McDaniel’s The Summer that Melted Everything, many things happen that may be supernatural or magical in origin, there’s a semi-magical realism feel to it. That’s not the case here. Nor is the source of the “magic” in this novel one mysterious stranger.

The power that keeps Dad and Betty—and the rest of the family—going comes from story. Dad’s constantly telling stories to his children, Betty in particular—and, we learn, he even tells stories to his friends (I don’t think Landon’s wife has much patience for many such stories, as much as she needs them). Betty typically doesn’t tell her stories to anyone, but she writes them down, filling notebooks with them. Some she keeps, some she buries (to preserve or to hid), some she gives away. By their use of story—sometimes use of words—Dad and betty keep themselves, and those around them, going. They inspire, encourage, and teach with them.

A story that Betty’s mother tells her is arguably the most powerful story in the novel—and it explains more of the novel than anything else. Her story, is wholly true, and wholly heartbreaking, but even that comes down to the power of storytelling.

Drawbacks to the book

I don’t really want to label these as problems with the book, but there are a few things that keep me from being as enthusiastic about Betty as I was for The Summer that Melted Everything (which I am enthusiastic about to this day). I basically proselytized readers over that book, I won’t go that overboard for this.

The first is that it took me far longer than it should have to get what McDaniel was trying to accomplish, I kept waiting for a plot to emerge, and there’s never much of one by design. Instead, as I indicated above, this is about the characters. Growing, developing, faltering, stumbling, and retreating. It’s about how they react to the events (or non-events) in their lives that matters, now the events themselves. It’s entirely possible that this is all me and not the text. But I don’t think that’s the case (or I wouldn’t have gone on about it).

Secondly, the non-Carpenter characters. With two notable exceptions (the town Doctor who comes running when they call; and a friend of Landon’s who rents them the house they settle in. But the rest of the people (almost without exception), are simply horrible. Some of the Carpenters are okay, and most of them demonstrate growth (at least). But everyone else is horrible, blatantly so…so many people in authority of varying degrees are just horrible, spiteful, evil people. And it’s just hard to read that. I firmly believe in man’s inhumanity to man, but it’s usually tempered, at least on the surface/occasionally, with something positive. We aren’t given anything to look to and say, “Hey, there’s someone decent”, or “There’s someone doing something decent. Spiteful, racist, ignorant, misogynous, capricious, and evil. Those are the words that come to mind as I think about the non-Carpenter characters, and it’s just hard to read them.

So, what did I think about Betty?

I started off liking it, and that feeling slowly grew. There weren’t many moments that wow’ed me, but there were a handful that broke my heart. I sincerely want another 50 pages of the Dad’s odd little myths (some of which, I’m pretty sure contradict themselves, which Betty sees and rolls with). I wanted to help Betty through her challenges, to at least shoulder some of her burden with her.

And did I mention the prose is fantastic?

That said, I don’t think I connected with the characters (particularly those who aren’t Dad or Betty) the way McDaniel wanted me to. I don’t think there’s enough going on to urge people to read this, but I will recommend it strongly. That said, I think I will be in the minority with this book and most readers won’t understand my hesitation to rave over this. I do recommend this book, I do plan on re-reading it in a year or two, and I will be first in line for McDaniel’s next book.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this. I also want to thank McDaniel for approaching me to let me know it was available for request. None of the above kept me from giving my honest opinion.

4 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.

Flashback Friday: The Summer that Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel: The Devil Goes Down to Ohio?

By HCNewton

On August 24, 2018

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

Long, tiring, but good week. But there’s just nothing left in the tank for something new, so I’m going to repost about couple of books from the past that I loved. I’m pretty sure that it was McDaniel’s prompting that got me to join NetGalley so (was a few more months before I really started using it).
—

The Summer that Melted Everything

by Tiffany McDaniel
eARC, 320 pg.
St. Martin’s Press, 2016
Read: July 18 – 19, 2016

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.

Yeah, Keyser Söze’s paraphrase of C. S. Lewis’ appropriation of Charles Baudelaire isn’t part of this book, but it might just encapsulate it. Maybe.

It’s the summer of 1984 in Breathed, OH, and it’s hot. Really hot — and about to get a lot hotter. 1984 is a big year — HIV is identified as the virus that leads to AIDS, Apple releases the Macintosh, Michael Jackson’s Pepsi commercial shoot, and the following advertisement runs in the local newspaper, The Breathian:

Dear Mr. Devil, Sir Satan, Lord Lucifer, and all other crosses you bear,

I cordially invite you to Breathed, Ohio. Land of hills and hay bales, of sinners and forgivers.

May you come in peace.

With great faith,
Autopsy Bliss

Autopsy Bliss is the local prosecutor, who wants to see for himself what evil looks like. Hence the advertisement.

So who shows up in response? A bruised, short black boy dressed in tattered and torn overalls who simply seems to want some ice cream and to say hi to the man who invited him. Autopsy’s son, Fielding, is the first one in town to meet the boy and takes him home to his father (sadly, no ice cream is available in town — unbelievably — for the remainder of the Summer). The Bliss family ends up taking the lad in, and starts calling him Sal. He and Fielding become fast friends and are almost inseparable for the rest of the summer. One by one, almost everyone in this sleepy community is touched by the appearance of Sal — either first-hand or by proxy — demons (figurative), troubled family and personal histories are exposed, latent corruptions come to light, and accidents strike many. No one in Breathed will be the same after the day Sal first appears to Fielding.

The book is narrated by Fielding about 70 years after that summer looking back on the time, thinking of all the regrets he’s had since then and all the ways his time with Sal has overshadowed the ensuing decades. It honestly reminded me of A Prayer for Owen Meany because of this — little kid who talks oddly, is smarter than any of his (apparent) peers, and divides a community, while leaving an indelible mark on his closest friend (who’s not always a friend).

Almost every name (maybe every name, and I’m not clever enough to get it all) is rich in meaning and symbolism — there’s symbolism all over the place, but McDaniel gets her money’s worth with the names in particular. This book will reward close readings, and probably repeated readings as well.

There are so many depictions and descriptions of child abuse and spousal abuse that it’s almost impossible to believe that there households in that world where someone isn’t getting hit on a pretty regular basis. Thankfully, we’re spared watching characters going through it (the vast majority of the time), but there are many mentions of it.

This is not fun read, really, but I loved the whole experience, it is a rewarding read. McDaniel writes with such richness, such depth, there are phrases throughout this that will knock you out. There’s one sentence that I went back to at least a half-a-dozen times one evening — not because I needed to try to suss it out, but because I just liked it so much. The variety of ways she can describe the horrible and debilitating heat wave that struck that part of Ohio those months is pretty astounding — I’m just glad I had some sort of air conditioning most of the time I spent reading the book. Sal’s descriptions of Hell and his fellow prisoners there are full of haunting images that will stick with me for a while (some good haunting, some less-so). I’m troubled by some of what this book said about God, but since the Devil is the one who told about God, I’m not sure we’re supposed to trust his characterizations. On the other hand, just about everything that the book says about the devil seems to be spot-on.

There are no easy answers to be found here — is Sal the devil? Is someone else in town? Is there a devil at all? Are the naturalistic explanations offered here and there throughout enough? I just don’t think you can think about this book without dealing with the Baudelaire/Lewis/Söze thought.

Can’t help but wonder how things would’ve gone if he’d just gotten a little ice cream.

Disclaimer:I received this eARC via NetGalley at the author’s invitation in return for this post. My thanks to NetGalley, St. Martin’s Press, and Tiffany McDaniel for this.

N.B.: As this was an ARC, any quotations above may be changed in the published work — I will endeavor to verify them as soon as possible.

The Best Novels I Read in 2016

By HCNewton

On January 5, 2017

In Alex Verus, Books, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Jane Yellowrock/Soulwood, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, News/Misc., Pierce Brown, Red Rising, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy

Yeah, I should’ve done this earlier, but I just needed a break from 2016 for a couple of days. Most people do this in mid-December or so, but a few years ago (before this blog), the best novel I read that year was also the last. Ever since then, I just can’t pull the trigger until January 1.

I truly enjoyed all but a couple of books this year (at least a little bit), but narrowing the list down to those in this post was a little easier than I expected (‘tho there’s a couple of books I do feel bad about ignoring). I stand by my initial ratings, there are some in the 5-Star group that aren’t as good as some of the 4 and 4½ books, although for whatever reason, I ranked them higher (entertainment value, sentimental value…liked the ending better…etc.). Anyway, I came up with a list I think I can live with.

(in alphabetical order by author)

Morning Star

by Pierce Brown
My original post
I was a little surprised (but not really) today to see that every book in the trilogy made my year-end Best-Of list — so it makes sense that this one occupies a space. But it’s more than that, this book was an exciting emotional wringer that ended the trilogy in a perfect way. I can’t recommend this one enough (but only for those who’ve read the first two). When I was informed a month ago that there was going to be a follow-up series? I let out a whoop, thankfully none of my family noticed, so I don’t have to feel too silly.

A Star-Reckoner’s Lot

by Darrell Drake
My original post
I’m afraid if I start talking about this one that I’ll spill a few hundred words. Let me just slightly modify something I already wrote and spare us all the effort (that could be better spent actually reading these books). I’m afraid I’ll overuse the word imaginative if I tried to describe what Drake has done here in the depth I want to in this book about pre-Islamic Iran. You haven’t read a fantasy novel like this one before — almost certainly, anyway — but you should.

Blood of the Earth

by Faith Hunter
My original post
This probably should be a dual entry with Blood of the Earth and Curse on the Land, but that felt like cheating. Between the two, I thought that this was a slightly better work, so it got the spot. While remaining true to the Jane Yellowrock world that this springs from, Hunter has created a fantastic character, new type of magic, and basis of a series. I love these characters already (well, except for those I wasn’t crazy about previously) and can’t wait for a return trip.

Burned

by Benedict Jacka
My original post
I’m just going to quote myself here: I’ve seen people call this the Changes of the Alex Verus series — and it absolutely is. I’d also call it the Staked in terms with the protagonists coming to grips with the effects that his being in the lives of his nearest and dearest has on their life, and what that means for his future involvement with them. Which is not to say that Jacka’s latest feels anything like Butcher’s or Hearne’s books — it feels like Verus just turned up half a notch. It’s just such a great read — it grabs you on page 2 and drags you along wherever it wants to take you right up until the “He is not actually doing this” moment — which are followed by a couple more of them.

Fate Ball

by Adam W. Jones
My original post
Since the Spring when I read this, I periodically reminded myself to keep this in mind for my Top 10, I was that afraid I’d forget this quiet book. It’s not a perfect novel, there are real problems with it — but it was really effective. I fell for Ava, just the way Able did — not as hard (and only in a way that my wife wouldn’t mind) — but just as truly. This one worked about as well as any author could hope one would.

All Our Wrong Todays

by Elan Mastai
My original post
My all-time favorite time-travel novel, just a fun read, too. I will over-hype this one if I’m not careful. So, so good.

The Summer that Melted Everything

by Tiffany McDaniel
My original post
I’m not sure what I can say about this book that others haven’t — this trip into a magical realism version of the 1980’s Mid-West will get you on every level — it’s entertaining, it’s thought-provoking, the language is gorgeous, the characters are flawed in all the right ways. I wish this was getting the attention (and sales!) that it deserves — I really hope its audience finds it.

Every Heart a Doorway

by Seanan McGuire
My original post
Here’s a book that doesn’t have to worry about attention or audience, it has one — and it’s probably growing. It deserves it. Short, sweet (and not-sweet) and to the point. I may have to buy a two copies of the sequel so I don’t have to fight my daughter for it when it’s released.

Lady Cop Makes Trouble

by Amy Stewart
My original post
Stewart took the really good historical crime novel she wrote last year and built on that foundation one that’s far more entertaining without sacrificing anything that had come before. We’ll be reading about the Kopp sisters for a while, I think.

Genrenauts: The Complete Season One Collection

by Michael R. Underwood
My original post
Yeah, here I am again, flogging Underwood’s Genrenaut stories — whether in individual novellas, audiobooks, or in this collection — you need to get your hands on this series about story specialists who travel to alternate dimensions where stories are real and what happens in them impacts our world — Underwood has a special alchemy of Leverage + The Librarians + Quantum Leap + Thursday Next going on here, and I love it.

There were a few that almost made the list — almost all of them did make the Top 10 for at least a minute, actually. I toyed with a Top 17 in 2016 but that seemed stupid — and I’ve always done 10, I’m going to stick with it. But man — these were all close, and arguably better than some of those on my list. Anyway here they are: What You Break by Reed Farrel Coleman (my original post), Children of the Different by SC Flynn (my original post), Thursday 1:17 p.m. by Michael Landweber (my original post), We’re All Damaged by Matthew Norman (my original post), A Hundred Thousand Worlds by Bob Proehl (my original post), and Mechanical Failure by Joe Zieja (my original post).

I hope your 2016 reads were as good as these.

The Summer that Melted Everything is Hot!

By HCNewton

On August 18, 2016

In Books, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, News/Misc.

(sorry, that was just horrible, but I couldn’t stop myself)

So, last month I posted about Tiffany McDaniel‘s debut, The Summer That Melted Everything and even did a Q&A with her. She was recently featured on the longlist of contenders for The Guardian’s Not-the-Booker prize — and was among some really august company.

Well, Monday they released the list of 6 finalists, and McDaniel was among them (and many of the august company, like DeLillo, were not). This is really great to see and I’d like to congratulate her, and hope she does well here (go vote!).

Pub Day Repost: The Summer that Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel

By HCNewton

On July 26, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature

The Summer that Melted Everything

by Tiffany McDaniel
eARC, 320 pg.
St. Martin’s Press, 2016
Read: July 18 – 19, 2016

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.

Yeah, Keyser Söze’s paraphrase of C. S. Lewis’ appropriation of Charles Baudelaire isn’t part of this book, but it might just encapsulate it. Maybe.

It’s the summer of 1984 in Breathed, OH, and it’s hot. Really hot — and about to get a lot hotter. 1984 is a big year — HIV is identified as the virus that leads to AIDS, Apple releases the Macintosh, Michael Jackson’s Pepsi commercial shoot, and the following advertisement runs in the local newspaper, The Breathian:

Dear Mr. Devil, Sir Satan, Lord Lucifer, and all other crosses you bear,

I cordially invite you to Breathed, Ohio. Land of hills and hay bales, of sinners and forgivers.

May you come in peace.

With great faith,
Autopsy Bliss