While the rest of the Best American Series is tightly focused, Best American Mystery Stories, Best American Science and Nature, Best American Political Writing and so forth, the Best American Nonrequired reading is a delightfully eclectic mix. You don’t know what you’ll encounter when you turn the page. Some entries are full short stories, one taking exactly 350 words. Some are poems. Some are comics. There is a fabulous piece by Stephen Colbert and another by Sherman Alexie. Could any two authors be more different in tone and style? There is a good mix of fiction and non-fiction.

Most notable are the odd collections, like the best line to appear on page 50 of a book published in 2009, or the best farm names. Along the way we find rather frightening article titles related to gun, odd crimes committed regarding fast food restaurants, and best lawsuits. In the section of Best American Fictional Character Names, Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon is remarkably overrepresented, but who can blame them? The names are hilarious.

Not every section will appeal to every person, but there is enough here that an average reader can find pleanty to love.

The Best American Series is, for me, required annual reading, and this is the volume I always look forward to the most.

Book Review: The Secret of Lies by Barbara Forte Abate

Barbara Forte Abate has such a gift for bringing to life real relationships between ordinary people that she creates an ongoing challenge to her readers by beginning her book with the lowest point of her character’s life: being drawn to run away and face her inner demons alone. The reader accepts Stephanie, or Stevie, as a real girl who grows up to be a real woman: her desperate act runs counter to the usual (and expected) female response to life, which is to passively endure the outcome of events. It is the author’s task to make sense of this act and to reveal it for what it is: a brief trough in the progression of life. Her message is feminine. It isn’t easy growing up female. Cut us some slack, and we’ll make things right. We need to make an active response, especially to such a threatening emotion as guilt.
Amidst all the disturbing events of her life, narrated with subtle honesty by Stevie herself, we see the fragile but warm interactions of her life. Stevie’s focus is herself, not the other party; it is a limitation that causes her to stumble through life missing the signs and details that would broaden her understanding of others. Lacking intuition, she must learn through experience. Stevie and her sister are close but far apart in temperament. Stevie’s mother and father come to life as caring and distinct individuals, unlike her aunt and uncle who are immersed in their own little world. Stevie’s promising relationship to a deaf boy is abruptly ended by circumstances, but her multifaceted relationship with Ash comes to life in all its playful stages.
In drawing her plot line, the author shows a respect for the complexity and fragility of marriage itself. There are many obstacles to be overcome before Stevie can open herself to love and even more before she can allow Ash to fully share in her life. In the meantime, Stevie’s withdrawal seems to him another personal rejection. The author leaves the reader with hope that, over time, the couple will move beyond their pain and build a solid life together.
At the heart of the novel is the age gap between sisters at the pivotal summer of l957 when Stevie lashes out with a torrent of words fueled by shock and disgust. There is a two year age gap between Stevie and her older sister. Such a gap would ordinarily fade in significance over a period of time, but instead the tragedy of death freezes it into permanence in Stevie’s mind. For sisters growing up in the fifties, as presented in this novel, the gap might well be substantial when one sister is fifteen and the other seventeen. What a difference in perspective, especially in a changing and contradictory society! The author focuses on that barrier between girls who are, in truth, hovering between childhood and adulthood. The younger child still looks at life with the eyes of a child, demanding that the world be as it should be. The older sister, engulfed in a whirlwind of change and experience, tries to understand and fit into the adult world. At times, using the brief advantage of experience and the inherent openness of conversation between siblings, the older sister tries to explain the complications of the adult world to the younger sister, but it is all in vain. We only listen to words that we understand and accept. When the older sister is growing up too fast, lacking guideposts and accepted limits, the world spins out of control for everyone. The younger child stands back, aware of but not sharing her older sister’s interests and focus. Lives separate and go in different directions. The result is a painful drama that, if told in the circumstances of this novel, must be gently conveyed with insistent honesty; in this novel, told through the voice of the younger child, the unfolding of an unwholesome relationship makes a compelling beginning to a story about the unraveling of the threads of a life.
Barbara Forte Abate is a sensitive writer who knows that there are no neutral observers in a dysfunctional family, even if the family is an extended one of aunt, uncle, and nieces, gathered only for the summer. An outbreak of discord, replacing harmony, is bad enough, but it is all too easy for visitors to take sides in a marital quarrel that should be kept between husband and wife: all it takes is sympathy and a feeling of understanding. Whether or not the visitors take sides, they are sure to feel uncomfortable and disturbed by the battle of bitter words raging around them. Worse still, such a battle may remain unacknowledged under a curtain of pretense. The picturesque setting of an seaside house, ideal for the languid days of a summer vacation, takes on ominous, stormy possibilities when a happy marriage turns sour.
The author clearly recreates her shoreline setting, giving it the tangible quality that draws Stevie back to bring closure to her past. The author conveys the expressiveness of the fifties and sixties that lingers in the memory, easily brought to recall by the music and gyrations of Elvis. Revealingly, it is just that music that triggers Stevie’s memories. Stevie is part of a generation free to enjoy the rock ‘n’ roll that their parents distrust. In writing this book, the author focuses on that aspect of a generation, leaving out the background of idealism that focused on John F. Kennedy and his dreams for America. That idealism isn’t very relevant to Stephanie as she changes from an uncertain girl of thirteen into a young woman trying to embrace life. Hers is a difficult life to follow in the pages of a book, but the rewards of doing so are great. We delve into the human condition as we focus on the feminine perspective, and that is the great reward of reading a novel like this one. Seeing a character wound up as tightly as Stephanie emerge from her shackles is both revealing and rewarding. We as readers must hope that this gifted writer will continue her writing career and imagine other characters who succeed in the difficult task of coming to terms with who they are. There are difficult issues here, but acknowledging them is a step toward gaining ascendancy. This book calls out for discussion as Stephanie senses the force of sexuality in her own life. With Ash and his life experiences, she has a chance to grow and control her own life. She can go beyond the desperate secrets that she was forced to keep by an adult world oblivious to her needs. She can forget the undeserved guilt that Ash rightfully calls the chip on her shoulder.

Review by Jason Block

Although I am only in my early 40′s, I am a huge fan of both westerns and old-time radio. Graphic Audio’s audio presentation of William W. Johnstone’s (with J.A. Johnstone) “Matt Jensen: The Last Mountain Man” will satisfy fans of both.

Being that the book is the first in a series, it is typical formulaic origin story fiction. Matt Cavanaugh is 9 years old when his mother, father and sister are brutally robbed and murdered by a man that his father had befriended right after the Civil War ended. Matt ends up killing one of the robbers before an even more brutal act is committed. We then see Matt growing up in a home for wayward children where he and the other kids are treated unfairly. He escapes the abuse and nearly dies in the brutal winter of the Colorado mountains. But he is rescued by “Smoke” Jensen, and is taught the way of honor, righteousness and the right ways to live and fight. He eventually leaves Smoke at the age of eighteen, and exacts justice for the murder of his parents.

While the story itself is typical, the presentation is not. GraphicAudio’s presentation makes this feel less like a true “audiobook” and more like a radio drama. Their tagline is “A Movie In Your Mind”, and it does not disappoint. Most audiobooks have one reader present the book and voice the characters in their interpretation. This presentation has a full cast with fully defined characters, vocal and musical effects that give the audio presentation a sense that you are listening to a radio drama being performed in front of a live studio audience.

The 5 CDs went by very quickly, and I got through the presentation within 2 days. I must warn that this book touches on some very mature subjects such as necrophilic rape, murder, prostitution, drinking, smoking and abuse of children. There is also a lot of cursing and salty language, so I recommend this audio presentation for older listeners. Kudos to GraphicAudio for marking that on the CD package.

This was my first Graphic Audio presentation, but it will not be my last. Timothy Lynch’s direction and adaption of the book was top notch. I was transported to post-Civil War Colorado and wanted to know what happens next. This is what good audiobooks are all about. I hope to find more adventures of Matt Jensen to add to my audiobook collection.

Review by Gloria Halper

Of all the lucky combinations of circumstances possible in this world, the most fascinating occurs when a strong individual, endowed with a host of abilities, deep humanity, and a wellspring of energy, finds a role that perfectly challenges and incorporates all of that individuality. It is a win-win situation. The person performs the role in an extraordinary, multi-dimensional way, without losing any of those special qualities which define him or her as a person. Such a person as Father Ygnacio in Sonora Moonlight makes an appealing central character in a tightly written book with strong plot lines, vivid historical background, and a mystery closely tied to the characters themselves. The mystery, like Father Ignacio’s life, is overshadowed by the overriding missionary goal of his role: to promote Christianity while replacing the old culture and tribal ways. Seeking justice, the priest decides that the mystery must be solved, and he puts himself in grave danger in order to do so.
The novel takes the reader on a rewarding journey into the mind and life of a Jesuit missionary in Sonora. We see him take on all kinds of tasks as he takes over a run-down mission. We feel the impinging spell of Jevho, the healer who guides him from intense sickness toward health. Father Ignacio is sincere and unfaltering in his beliefs and faith in his calling. He reaches out to his potential converts with patience and interest and without a sense of personal superiority. He has faith that the Indians will see what he sees, that he represents the true faith. The priest, though obedient to his church, has initiative and does not distance himself from his flock, and that’s where he runs into trouble from his superiors: they accuse him of being drawn in by paganism and, worse still, by a sexual undertow.
The novel ingeniously shows that success and failure can coexist as outcomes. Father Ignacio is respected and loved by the Pima Indians. It is a great blow to him to find his efforts undermined by Jevho and his perspective. The writer reminds us that the Jesuit effort in New Spain was itself overturned in 1767. Nevertheless, we feel that the efforts of people like Father Ignacio are not wasted; their accomplishments are real and lasting.
The book succeeds as both a mystery (a fictional element) and a suspense story. Father Ignacio’s direct confrontation, coupled with his open and probing approach, repeatedly make him a target for vicious attacks as his list of suspects grows shorter and shorter; his lucid narrative makes the reader eager to read the author’s other works about this engaging character.
At the same time, we can read this book as a cautionary tale of culture clash between missionaries and their intended converts, each caught up with their moment in history. Sadly, there is no middle ground to fully satisfy both sides. The real Father Ignacio was imprisoned for years after the Jesuit expulsion. His later writings provide the historical backdrop, the living authenticity, to this book, making it a memorable experience for any reader.
Seen as a whole, the book shines as a study of leadership. Father Ignacio and Jevho are both effective leaders, propelling people into action, but Jevho has one distinct advantage: he speaks for his people and focuses on their plight, trying to survive in a harsh landscape amidst old Apache foes, powerful newcomers, and determined missionaries. To him, the old ways are a real alternative as well as a distinct reality.

Review by Jason Block

For anyone under the age of 30, if someone says to you “Famous African-American Golfer”, most people would say Tiger Woods. But for people like me, and people a generation older, everyone remembers PGA Tour Champion Calvin Peete. That is why I was very intrigued to read “For Peete’s Sake”, the official biography of the golfer. This book has the official cooperation and participation and cooperation of Mr. Peete and was told to and written by Dolly Ness. It is published by Rushford and Associates.

Peete’s story begs for a biography. He is one of 19 children, from his father’s two marriages and grew up in post WWII Detroit, Michigan. His father was a factory worker, and his mother, Irenia, was a housekeeper. He was born in 1943, and lived a poor boy’s life. He went from Michigan to Hayti, Missouri and got into a lot of trouble. He was a gambler, sharecropper, pool hustler and eventually went to jail for 60 days for a scam gone wrong. But a stop at a golf course in 1966 changed his life forever. He wanted to be like his hero Charlie Gifford, another African-American Golfer. He eventually used his skills as a pool hustler using vectors and angles to hone his golfing skills and eventually become a 12 time PGA Tour winner, winning tournaments from 1979-1986, including the Player’s Championship. He was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome in 1999., which caused him to retire in 2001.

The problem here is not the subject. The problem is the book itself. At a way too short 86 pages, this book feels more like a draft of a bigger book project than an actual finished work. While I give credit to Ms. Ness for trying, her writing style seems a bit unpolished and her conclusions don’t make sense. While I would like to think this book is more than a vanity project, it feels that way. I understand this is her first book, but she took on too big of a subject here. And while I get that Mr. Peete may be too ill for a true autobiography, this doesn’t feel big enough for a man as important as Mr. Peete.

For example, in trying to paint a picture of Mr. Peete’s childhood she recalls a story of how Calvin beat up his cousins after they stole from him many times, she then quotes J.C. Penney thusly: “I would have never amounted to anything were it not for adversity. I was forced to come up the hard way.” She then adds, “Calvin was forced to come up the hard way too.” To me, the quote doesn’t illustrate the point of “adversity”. Calvin did have a hard life, but this quote doesn’t fit the story told.

I would love to see a serious biographical treatment of African-American Golfers in the 20th century from John Shippen in the 1890′s to Tiger Woods today. While Ms. Ness gives the history of the African-American golfer less than one page, I would love to see a serious sports historian tackle this.

For Peete’s Sake is a good effort, and a nice tribute to Calvin Peete. But its short length and lack of depth may turn off serious students of the game.

I received this pre-release as part of Amazon’s Vine program.

Louisa Cosgrove is a bit of a mismatch in her family. She is her father’s darling, but her mother favors her older brother Tom. She is in love with her cousin, Grace, which is a thing nearly unheard of in 19th century England. She wants to be a doctor, which is also a thing nearly unheard of in 19th century England. Her mother wants her to be a proper lady. To go visiting. To find a good husband. Leave the doctoring to her father and her brother, Tom. Tom wants what’s best for Tom.

Louisa travels in the night thinking she’s going to a country estate to spend time with a girl her own age, but is brought instead to a mental hospital called Wildthorn, where she is mistreated to the point of torture by a staff that, with few exceptions, is driven by either greed, indifference, or general malice. In order to figure out why she was locked up, and explore her options for rescue, she thinks back to the past. In the end, she can find no hope of rescue and must free herself.

Jane Eagland uses a clever device for moving the story clearly between two time periods. First, she sets the events in the story’s present in the present tense and the flashbacks in the simple past tense. Second, she changes fonts to show which time period she’s in.

This book isn’t a romance. Don’t be fooled by the cover. At best, the “love” that sets her free is platonic through most of the story. It’s a coming of age story. Louisa suffers for insisting on being who she wants to be. She remains strong, true to herself, and in the end she prevails. Tom refuses to be anything but a copy of his father, and may not even really know himself, and so he doesn’t grow, but collapses in on himself to the point where he has to start his journey over again. Grace also refuses to be true to her heart, sacrificing herself and any prospect of future happiness. It is unlikely her sacrifice will come to any good.

There is an interesting, if heavy-handed dichotomy between Tom and Louisa. Whenever possible, Tom gets Louisa into trouble, be they children or adults. When Louisa accidentally takes one of Tom’s candies, while trying to sneak her own, Tom tells their mother. When Tom spooks Louisa’s horse, causing her to fall, she denies any knowledge of why the horse suddenly ran. The characters are well-rounded, each driven by their place in society, their preconceptions, the partial information presented them, and their own desires.

The beginning is a little slow, but once the story finds its feet, it’s fabulous until the end. Give it the chance to develop. It’s totally worth it.

It’s due out September 6 in hardcover, but is already available as an ebook.

I got this book form Amazon’s Vine program, but it was so good, I decided to post the review here as well.

Cadence/Shiro/Adrienne the three-for-one deal in the FBI’s special, BOFFO unit, a unit comprised of people with special quirks than can be exploited. Like paranoia. Like kleptomania. Like multiple personalities.

When she’s on the case, all three of her personalities are on it together, and they play effectively off each other’s strengths.  Cadence, the birth personality, is the charming one, best for social situations or for setting a witness at ease.  She’s the one who knows how to make a good pasta salad, and cares enough to remember everyone’s names.  Shiro is the martial artist. She comes out when there’s fighting to be done, to protect Cadence, but when things get too out of hand, when the situation calls for a no-holds-barred woman who fights like an animal, then there’s Adrienne (it’s best not to encounter Adrienne). Adrienne is also the sex hound of the trio.

They must deal with their mixed up coworkers, while trying to stop a serial killer, and maybe, just maybe, fall in love.

Me, Myself, and Why is a part chick-lit, part mystery, and all fun. It pulled me through so quickly, so relentlessly, I read it cover to cover in two days.

The chapter breaks frequently happen at a switch, which means very often a sentence will start in one chapter and end in the next. It is oddly charming.  The scenes were Adrienne is the PoV character are told in a kind of strange sing-song roughly to the tune of “The Wheels on the Bus”.

The identity of the murderer is a bit odd.  It feels like it wasn’t properly set up, so it came out of left field.  It’s a minor fault in an otherwise flawless book.

Out of Heaven
by Amylynn Bright

In a theological mashup, we have Judeo-Christian angels tending souls that reincarnate time and again in a Hindu way (the souls gather in Akasha, which is the Hindi word for sky). The archangel Gabriel has fallen in love with a human soul who is drawn to incarnate again and again.  They are pulled apart for a lifetime, then they come together, then they are pulled apart again.  Gabriel wants to share one human lifetime with her, and after a lot of arguments, gets a single day as a mortal to make her fall in love with him.

Of course, being an angel means he gets to pick the hottest body in the storeroom, and Jane, as his love is called in this lifetime, really can’t keep her eyes off of him. Well, at least she can’t once he works up the nerve to talk to her.

It’s sweet. It’s funny. It’s a cute mix of romance and fantasy, blended together. There are things he knows (those guys over there are demons) and things she knows (all things related to matters of courtship, where he seems a little lost) and that lets it swap artfully between fantasy and romance.

It’s very short.  It came in at 100 pages in PDF (it is available in a variety of formats) and that with quite a bit of white space.  It’s more of a novella than a novel. To be fair, it’s well-paced, thorough, and priced as one might expect for a novella. I liked the characters well enough, I wanted to spend more time with them.

It takes a little time to find its feet, but once the story gets going, it flows very well.  It’s worth wading through the early part to get to the good stuff, because the good stuff is really good. One exceptionally nice touch is that, unlike in so many other romance novels lust is not treated as a stand-in for love.

Overall, I found it a very enjoyable read, good for fans of paranormal romance and for people who like a sweet love story.  People who enjoyed this book, might also like The Sea Rose by the same author.

7th Son: Descent, by J.C. Hutchins

review by Miriam Zibkoff

J. C. Hutchins begins his tale the way many creative writing manuals recommend; with a big pointy hook to yank the reader into the story. The president of the United States is on an ordinary baby-kissing re-election tour when he’s assassinated by a four year old! With a knife! And the kid then uses foul language! And then dies mysteriously (and somewhat grossly!) And then there’s this musician who almost immediately gets brutally kidnapped by mysterious agents! And then this priest who we also don’t get a chance to learn much about is kidnapped! And this TV psychologist is kidnapped, too! And they kidnap this paranoid hacker crazyman! He uses tinfoil to block imaginary spies like all those crazymen do! And a few other guys are also kidnapped! And they’re taken down to this huge secret government facility that’s, like, the size of the Chrysler Building but all underground! And they find out that they’re CLONES! And their whole lives are a lie engineered by this totally powerful government agency that not even the president knows about! And that there’s this other guy, who was also deceived and lied to by the totally powerful government agency and knows all its secrets, who’s made himself even more totally powerful and wants revenge against the agency, and also revenge against the world just for the hell of it! FAR OUT! (the author’s phrase, not mine). And then Vengeful Guy tortures some woman by unscrewing her fingers with a power socket wrench! He’s EVIL! And blood and bone splinters GO FLYING EVERYWHERE! OMGWTFBBQ!!!11!!!!!111!!

Ahem.

When invited by an author to follow him through a thriller, an initial sharp tug is fine to get my attention. But I then prefer that he offer me a gentlemanly arm to escort me through his story, draw me in with a line of seductive patter pointing out the scarier features of the hellish landscape, before leading my willing self along the ever-narrowing cliff path to throw me off the precipice. When an author grabs my arm and tries to drag me bodily through his opus while screaming in my ear about how AWESOME the tour is…well, call me an ornery bitch, but I tend to dig in my heels. It seems the intent is a Dean Koontzian thriller, with an SF background, grimly determined jut-jawed protagonists combating evil in breathless action scenes, and lots of gleeful carnage. But since we usually fall short of the ideals we aim for, it probably isn’t wise to take Koontz as your writing model to emulate, because what you will likely end up with is a sub-Koontzian quality book, which is sad. Aim higher. Aim for Stephen King, at least.

Hutchins has some promising ideas. Cloning and memory downloading in the plot lead to the protagonists paranoically questioning the identities of those around them, and even their own identities. The premises (especially the memory downloading thing) as depicted in the novel are, of course, outlandishly impossible. That’s no flaw, in itself; many a great genre novel (horror, science-fiction or fantasy) is based on a ridiculous impossibility, but something of the writing is good enough to make you believe it. Stephen King is no Nobel winner, but his characters really live; you identify with them, cringe with them as you follow them through their torturous ordeals in an ordinary world gone mad. Thus sympathizing, you’re drawn along without worrying about the essential absurdity of it all. But Hitchins’ characters almost never go beyond stereotypes (The Priest. The Marine. The Villain. And so on). Their reactions to their bizarre circumstances strictly serve the plot, without bearing much resemblance to what actual humans might do. Writing with stereotyped characters isn’t necessarily a problem either; Agatha Christie and Isaac Asimov wrote nothing but. But they compensated by writing plots that tick along as smoothly as Swiss watches. Hutchins’ plot, unfortunately, stumbles frequently. Some stumbles are enormous. (A supremely powerful government agency traumatizes a teenage genius by revealing that his beloved parents have been experimenting with him all his life in the service of the agency that has made of him their lab rat. What does the agency do with this young genius, who now has reason for a huge grudge? Why, invite him to join the agency and learn all their most dangerous secrets, of course!) Many are minor, but annoying. For instance, this scene, in which the author tries to infuse an internet search with a sense of Breathless!Action!

“‘…Kilroy, find me an online copy of the DSM…I don’t care if you have to hack, slash or burn your way through the whole Net to find it. Just find it, Kilroy.’
…it didn’t take long for Kilroy2.0 to access an online version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, probably because he did indeed hack, slash, and burn his way through the Internet. He hijacked the identity of at least on psychiatrist (using the doctor’s so-called secure information including Social Security number, address and credit-card numbers) to get the information.”

Dude. Did you try typing “DSM” into Google?

While a bold impossibility as the basis for a novel is perfectly acceptable, a series of mere improbabilities like those above is absolutely fatal. They boot you out of the story too frequently to let it weave its spell. So give 7th Son a pass unless you’re fond of occasionally putting your brain in neutral and letting it coast downhill when you’re reading.

The premise is both simple and clever. Adrienne Martini sets out to knit an Alice Starmore sweater in a year and write a book about her experiences. It’s a cute memoir. It’s very light reading.

It kept throwing me because there are so many mistakes. She persistently spells Elizabeth Zimmermann’s name without the final ‘n’. She claims you can’t knit a tube on straight needles (the technique for doing so is called “double knitting”). She claims there were no knitting books before the feminist movement of the 50s, 60s, and 70s, but Exercises in Knitting was published in 1846, just to name one example. In quoting Alice Starmore bemoaning the plight of New York’s homeless population, Martini claims Starmore is insulting the gay population.

The internal errors are worse. First she tells us that she can easily count in the hundreds without marks on a paper, then must make concessions to her inability to count reliably to ten. I empathize with that inability, having somehow knit an 8 stitch repeat over 11 stitches more than once. More confusing is how she says over and over that Alice Starmore sends her squad of ninja lawyers on anyone who defames her in public. Then why on earth write a book attacking the woman?

The most delightful error is the sweater itself. You’d think at the end she’d be wearing the thing everywhere, but I’ll not spoiler that sweater’s true fate.

Where this book most succeeds is in the interviews and quotes from other knitters. For the most part I wish she’d have a greater range of topics. After a while “Is this really an Alice Starmore?” gets a little tiresome. But the interviews, with such knitting superstars as the Yarn Harlot and the Mason Dixon Knitters, gives us an unedited glimpse into their minds and worlds, and that is where this book shines.

I think the writing was about as excellent as an author can make it, but lacked for a real editor. The sudden attack on Bush, right in the middle of analyzing how a new yarn line is introduced, should have been cut. The strange asides that have nothing to do with the topic at hand and add nothing to the work should have been chopped.

Readers will find more charm in Yarn Harlot: The Secret Life of a Knitter or KnitLit: Sweaters and Their Stories…and Other Writing About Knitting.