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Reading Challenge 2.0: Why I’m Going Back to Square One

If you’re on Goodreads, you probably know the average Reading Challenge for 2018 is about 51 books in 12 months. I read 136 books in 92 days for last summer’s adult reading program with the library. So what was a realistic but stretch-worthy goal for 12 months?

I set my goal at 200 books for the year. I was cruising along pretty well, picking up steam. The “brass ring” was in sight – six months early.

Until today.

Let me explain. First the not so good news. Followed by the good news and some reading highlights thus far.

The Not-so-Good News:

I was closing in on my target goal of 200 books. I went to my Goodreads account today to add a few more completed titles to bring my total to 181. Suddenly, my reading progress vanished. Gone. Poof!

Has this happened to you?

Because not a single title entered over the past five-plus months remains in my Reading Challenge. Zip. Zero. Nada. I know the site was having trouble cataloging dates and updates. But zeroing out 181 books just like that?!

Well I’ll be et fer a tater.

I can’t possibly recreate the entire list from memory. (Yes, I reported the matter to Goodreads. No solution yet.)

The Good News:

Of course I’m discouraged. Not to mention a wee bit miffed. But I’m still reading. And while it’s not exactly cheery to have five+ months of titles wiped out due to “technical difficulties,” I’m going to keep reading. In fact, I’m aiming for another target. Think of it as Reading Challenge 2.0:

200 additional titles by the end of the year.

How does that sound? (Good thing I took a few screen shots awhile back, eh?)

Meanwhile, from some prior notes I jotted down, here are some highlights from my Reading Challenge 2018 (before The Great Poofery struck):

Most Whimsical or Disarmingly Charming:

What-the-Dickens, by Gregory Maguire.

A natural disaster, three kids, a 21 y.o. Language Arts cousin/babysitter. Skibbereens and a flying thing nsmed “Pepper” with lots of sass. Teeth. What’s not to love?

– The Faerieground series, by Beth Bracken and Kay Fraser.

Twelve quick, enchanting reads about BFFs Soli and Lucy. One is far more than she seems at first glance, esp, when soneone’s made a wish inside the Willow Forest!

Most Interesting Biogs or Autobiogs:

New York to Paris – Charles A. Lindbergh.

Flying by instruments-only through fog at 1,500nft. over the Mid-Atlantic? Ay! Yi! Yi! Also white caps, porpoises, and “Which way is Ireland?”, the London-Paris runway and the Eiffel Tower.

Man O’ War – Walter Farley

Gripping Historical fiction about one of the greatest Thoroughbred champions to ever set hooves on a race track.

Creepiest

Look For Me By Moonlight.

Forget the silver stakes and garlic. Find an artist friend with a cliffside workshop and a hot stove! And whatever you do, don’t fall for some sweet-talking “30 something” dude in black who comes to stay at your Dad’d rustic, isolated inn in thd dead of winter!

172 Hours on the Moon – Johan Harstad

After yeats of budget cuts and stalled space exploration, NASA is going back to the moon, this time with three teens aboard. Once they hit the lunar surface, everything goes sideways. And astronauts start dying. Will Mia, Midori or Antoine ever see earth again?

Most Intriguing or Surprising

The Adoration of Jenna Fox – Mary E. Pearson

Hauntingly poignant and powerful, this intriguing story explores family relationships, bio/medical ethics, how far a parent might go to save a loved one, and what it means to be “human.” Earned a rare five-star rating from me.

Fairest – Marissa Meyer

A taut, compelling tale dripping with palace intrigue, rivalry and jealousy, misplaced love, blind ambition and utter corruption. Masterfully crafted. Couldn’t put it down!

Anchor in the Storm – Sarah Sundlin.

Finally. A “romance”” novel that isn’t a romp through the local garbage dump.

This uplifting, engaging story offers solid characters who are both winsome and flawed. They’re wholesome without being sappy. The clever “whodunit” plot has perfect pacing while the love story deftly combines faith, hope, tenacity, and integrity. Superb historical fiction plus plenty of surprising plot twists to keep you guessing!

Old Faves:

Just about anything by Marguerite Henry, C.W. Anderson, and Scott O’Dell.

Note About My Reviews: I hold to the axiom: “The repeated use of profanity is the hobgoblin of little minds.” Hence, no book that uses same gets high marks from me. Ever. Far as I’m concerned, if an author can’t express him/herself without “turning the air blue,” then s/he is a lousy, lazy author. Period.

Now. Back to square one. And a new Reading Challenge.

How’s yours coming?


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What I’m Reading – And You?

Wikimedia Commons

Ever notice how “summer” and “reading” seem to go hand-in-hand? Kinda like “whine and cheese.” “Peanut butter and jelly.” “Presidential debates and you’re kidding, right?”

Like most writers, I’m also a voracious reader.  Here’s what’s on my plate at present:

You may already know that Richard Paul Evans is a long-time favorite. I snap up everything this guy cranks out. Usually within a nano-second of publication. He’s that good. I’m reading through his Michael Vey series right now. Just polished off Book 4, Hunt for Jade Dragon. Fresh and engaging with a dose of gentle humor, this series is just plain fun. Highly recommended if you have a kiddo who’s a “reluctant reader.”

Dogsong – You can almost taste the snow and feel the cold in this terrific outdoor story by Gary Paulsen.  Being a dog lover helps.

Renegade – The Silver Blackthorn Trilogy.  Kerry Wilkinson’s novel about 11 teenage “Offerings” on the lam from King Victor and the Kingsmen is vaguely reminiscent of The Hunger Games. But there are enough intrigues and surprises to keep you turning pages. Fast. Set in a dystopian kingdom where just about everyone is a fief, a vassal, or enslaved to a sadistic, mad monarch. Bonus points: the author is British. The text is marinated with enough British-isms like “lift” (elevator) and “bonnet” (think car) to keep your average Yank guessing. Lots of fun!

Lie in Plain Sight.   Maggie Barbieri’s multi-faceted “who dunnit?” *starring* baker and amateur sleuth Maeve Conlon. I don’t typically gravitate toward “who dunnits.” But this one is fun. Realistic dialogue and three-dimensional characters, with lots of unexpected twists and turns.

The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio: How My Mother Raised 10 Kids on 25 Word or Less. I grabbed this one off a library shelf on a lark. It was one of those “swoop in, swoop out” expeditions. This remarkable true-life story by Terry Ryan doesn’t disappoint. Sensitive, crisp and briskly paced, this memoir is as “catchy” as the author’s mother’s “25 words or less” contest entries that keep the family afloat during the 1950s.  There’s plenty of subtle humor and rapier wit in this lively read. I loved it!

The book was made into a 2005 movie with Woody Harrelson, Julianne Moore and Laura Dern.

Any favorite titles or authors to recommend?  Chime in!


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38 in 10

“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot…reading is the creative center of a writer’s life…you cannot hope to sweep someone else away by the force of your writing until it has been done to you.” – Stephen King

38 in 10
35 booksThirty-eight in ten. It wasn’t easy. But it was fun!

My local library wraps up its annual Adult Winter Reading Program today  The program began in January and ran for ten weeks. My goal? To read and/or listen to 40 books during that time frame. I came within a cat’s whisker of reaching it.

“How in the world did you manage 38 books in ten weeks?” you ask. “Where’d you find the time?”

Truth? I didn’t “find” the time. I made it. Yep, it’s amazing what you can accomplish if you bring a book to the dentist or doc’s office. Read at red lights. While standing in line at the post office or grocery check-out. Hibernate in the library. Listen to a book on CD while doing dishes. Double as a Himalayan hermit.

Why Is That?
The best writers I know are also voracious readers. Why is that? Check out some of the links below to find out.

 

What were the best books I read/listened to in the last ten weeks? Answer: It depends.  Mostly on which day you ask.  Those that were particularly memorable, in no particular order, include:

These Strange Ashes – Elisabeth Elliot
Epic- John Eldredge
Dawn – Elie Wiesel
Tuck Everlasting – Natalie Babbitt

Noteworthy: Cry, The Beloved Country –Alan Paton; Zia – Scott O’Dell; War Horse – Michael Morpurgo.

Kristine Lowder and friendAre you a writer who reads? Share some of your favorite titles below.

Up next: Books to Grow By. How Many Have You Read?


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Review of ‘Angela’s Ashes’

Angela’s Ashes

By Frank McCourt

Touchstone (Simon & Schuster), 1996

“Not for the faint-hearted” is perhaps over-used, but in the case of Frank McCourt’s memoir of his growing up years, Angela’s Ashes, it is apt.  (“Angela” is his mother’s name.)

The son of an alcoholic Irish man, McCourt paints a gritty picture without a brush of self-pity.  The prose is genuine and so gritty you can almost hear McCourt’s brogue singing through each page as he recounts life in a tumbledown shack on “the lane” in Ireland that floods and freezes in winter and swarms with fleas and stink in the summer.

His story begins in America, but soon high-tails it back to Ireland, where he details a professional unemployed father, grim family members, the loss of a baby sister, two twin boys, “the hunger” as well as the “Angel on the Seventh Step.”      It’s all there – the almost unbelievable poverty, hunger, filth, disease, despair, religious superstition.

In spite of a childhood chockfull of incredible hardship, deprivation, cruelty and misery, there’s something transcendent and luminescent about McCourt’s story.  Even with typhoid fever, “the shame,” and his father’s habit of “drinking his wages on the pint,”  McCourt refuses to sink into a slough of despond or bitterness.  Plucky Frank (short for Francis, “after the saint”) pulls himself up by own bootstraps and does so in an engaging, almost lyrical manner that’ll have you cheering – and perhaps shedding a tear or two – by the end of this remarkable, heart-breakingly heroic Pulitzer Prize Winner.


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Review of “Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25”

Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25

By Richard Paul Evans

“Is this like a series?  When’s the next one coming out?  Can we get it tomorrow?”

High praise for any book, but coming from my twelve year-old son?  We’re talkin’ statospheric.  I mean, I had to arm-wrestle the kid for Richard Paul Evans’s new release, Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25.   Good thing I’m a fast reader.  I zoomed through all three hundred and twenty-six pages in two days.

I’m not kidding.  Vey is a barn burner.  Page-turner.  Whatever.

Fourteen year-old Michael Vey is smack in the middle of life’s “armpit”: freshman year at Meriden High School.  He seems like an incredibly “average” kid.  The only thing that may set him apart is furious eye-blinking when he’s nervous, attributable to Tourette’s syndrome.  Michael’s one – and only – friend is portly, resourceful brainiac Ostin (he was born in Texas.  His mom was a poor speller.  Figure it out.).

Michael would like nothing better than to be left alone and just try to survive high school, but a trio of local thugs won’t let him.  They’re among the first to encounter Michael’s secret first-hand when they try “pantsing” him after school as cheerleader and drop-dead gorgeous Taylor walks by.

Michael later finds out that he and Taylor aren’t as different as he thought.  They both share special electrical powers. Michael, Ostin and Taylor form the “Electroclan.” Everything’s going swimmingly until Ostin detects some coincides between Michael and Taylor that are way too similar for mere coincidence – like the fact that they were born in the same hospital, in the same state, a day apart, and that nearly all other babies born in the same hospital within that time frame died.  The trio sets out to find out why.  In the process, they stumble upon the “Who?” – and wish they hadn’t.  Enter the darkly sunglassed, mysterious Dr. Hatch.

A megalomaniac par excellence, the ‘ethically challenged’ Hatch (that’s an understatement) has been looking for Taylor and Michael for nearly fifteen years.  When Michael’s mom is kidnapped, as is Taylor,  it’s up to Michael and Ostin to launch a daring rescue against seemingly overwhelming odds.  They must rely on wit, tenacity and each other to succeed.  But who can they trust to help?  Who else is after them, and what do they want?  Will the boys arrive before it’s too late?  And what happened to Michael’s dad?

Evans has ranked high on my Favorite Authors short list for years, ever since The Christmas Box.  As a YA novel, Vey represents a significant departure from Evans’s usual themes and treatments. It’s a different “cup of tea.”  Very different.  And Evans pulls it off beautifully!  The story is a skillful combination of action, suspense, mystery, romance, science and humor into an imaginative fiction with characters that are real and genuine.  We want to meet them again.  The plot is engaging, brisk and clever.  A keeper!

And the next title in the Vey series, The Rise of Elgen?  Not to worry.  My son and have it on hold at the library.  In fact, we’re first in line.


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Review of ‘The Last Summer of the Death Warriors’

The Last Summer of the Death Warriors

By Francisco X. Stork

Seventeen year-old Pancho is one tough hombre.  And he’s royally ticked.  With a deceased mother, his father recently killed in a work-related accident, and his mentally challenged sister, Rosa, dead, he lands in a New Mexico orphanage mad at the world and aiming to make the world pay.  Detectives say Rosa’s death was due to “natural causes,” but Pancho suspects foul play.  He formulates a plan to identify Rosa’s killer and wreak his revenge.

Pancho encounters an unexpected wrinkle when he meets D.Q. (Daniel Quentin) at the orphanage.  D.Q. has authored “The Death Warrior Manifesto.”  (“Rule number one: No whining.”)   Impish, intellectually buoyant and devilishly mischievous in spite of a cancer diagnosis, D.Q. pegs Pancho to be a fellow “death warrior.”  The Panda (priest) who runs the place assigns Pancho as D.Q.’s helper for the summer, a prospect that thrills Pancho about as much as a cat in cold bath water.  Will he choose death and revenge or the way of the “death warriors” – fighting for every last shred of life and love as long as they last?

Francisco Stork’s young adult novel is gutsy.  It asks tough questions and avoids patty-cake, trite answers.  It engages quickly, combining elements of both a murder mystery and a romance story as main characters battle doubt, disease, abandonment, despair and their own inner demons.  The novel is artfully written with realistic, three-dimensional characters and crisp dialogue (may be too gritty for gentle readers).  A unique story with some unusual plot twists, Last Summer is worth a look.


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Review of ‘Lost December’

He’s amazing.  Just when I think he’s penned his final shimmering literary star, Richard Paul Evans flings another into the firmament of fine fiction.  Lost December (Simon & Schuster, 2011) is a case in point.

I loved this book.*    I read all 346 pages cover-to-cover in a day and a half, including the Epilogue.

Based on the biblical account of the prodigal son, Lost December introduces us to Luke Crisp, son of copy center mogul Carl Crisp.  Dad wants to turn the family business over to his son once Luke earns his M.B.A. from Wharton, an endeavor Dad urged Luke to pursue.  At Wharton, however, Luke falls in with would could be charitably dubbed a bunch of nihilist husks of humanity masquerading as intellectuals and fellows students.  Under their influence and at the urging of his smooth-talking, blood-sucking leech of a “room mate,” Sean, Luke has other plans.  He dumps Dad’s business – and Dad – and jet-sets to Europe with his new pals, footing the bill for everyone.  Once on the continent, Luke and friends make a career out of running up outlandish bar tabs and room service.  But Luke’s million dollar trust fund doesn’t last forever.  When the money runs out, so do his “friends.”

Luke returns to Las Vegas and soon hits rock-bottom.  Friendless, penniless, and homeless, Luke Crisp is the highly educated son of a Fortune 500 corporate exec. whose entire worldly possessions fit into the backpack he carries from one street to the next.

Too embarrassed and ashamed to contact his father, Luke winds up living “underground” in a culvert.  After being robbed and beaten up, Luke is rescued by Carlos, a Good Samaritan who runs a convalescent care center.  Carlos gives Luke a place to stay and hires him.  Luke soon takes on a second job at a local Crisp’s Copy Center, where no one knows who his father is – and he’s not about to spill the beans.  He comes closes when he meets the distant, detached Rachael, a single mom with a painful past.

What follows is a remarkable, poignant story of forgiveness, reunion and the true meaning of love.

Told in vintage Evans style – first person narrative, with an engaging, intriguing plot and three-dimensional characters you feel like you know – Lost December is a holiday treat.  Get a copy for yourself this holiday season.  Better yet, get several and share.

*  I admit it.  I love all of Evans’ books.  If you have a “reluctant” teen reader, check out Evans’ Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25.  My twelve year-old couldn’t put it down!


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Review of ‘Every Last One’ by Anna Quindlen

Every Last One

By Anna Quindlen

Random House, 2010

She’s done it again.  In Every last One best-selling author Anna Quindlen offers yet another poignant mixture of panache and pathos as she traces the effects of seemingly inconsequential choices and actions that turn out to be life-altering.

Every may get off to a slow start, but its gathers steam quickly as we’re introduced to Mary Beth Latham, husband Glen and their three incredibly average teenage kids: popular over-achiever Alex; introverted, morose Max; and independent, free-spirited Ruby.  Neck-deep in “the usual” – proms, soccer games, high school angst, sibling rivalries, curfew, family dinners and sibling spats – this “typical” suburban family turns out to be anything but.  Just about the time the reader starts feeling lost in the dull monochrome of what could be the average American family – as in, ‘been there, done that’ – Quindlen tosses us a curve.  A big one.  The pacing is perfect.

The rest of this remarkable book focuses on how Mary Beth and her girlfriends such as no-nonsense Nancy and “English rose” Olivia help her cope with an immense tragedy. We also discover what’s eating Mary Beth’s former friend, Deborah.  Like the consummate storyteller she is, Quindlen weaves a rich tapestry of roles and relationships that are almost excruciatingly authentic.

Besides the carefully crafted plot and three-dimensional characters, the dormant strength of Every Last One – a phrase uttered by a police officer on one tragic New Year’s Eve – lies in its “every person” appeal.  Readers may feel they know the Lathams.  Maybe this ophthalmologist’s family is their neighbor, colleague, coach, or their kids’ favorite hang-out site.  Or maybe it’s them.  This complicated, beautifully drawn story of struggle, survival, unspeakable loss and love is weft as tight as a Persian rug, and is just as exquisite.  I read the LP version (385 pages) cover to cover in a day and a half.

Full of unexpected twists and turns, Every Last One is another stellar work of fiction like the kind we’ve come to expect from Quindlen.  Much of its strength lies in sturdy characters, believable dialogue and its subtle message of hope.  This one’s a keeper.

***

Coming soon: A review of the autobiographical Lessons from the Mountain: What I Learned from Erin Walton, by Mary McDonough.


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‘because of mr. terupt”: extradordinary (“dollar word”?)

Lisa was right.  Our intrepid Children/Youth Services Librarian usually is.

Roaming the stacks of my local library the other day, I couldn’t quite find “It.”  You know, a title that leapt off the stacks, grabbed me by the throat and hollered, “Read me!”  (Some do, you know.)  So I moseyed over to Lisa’s desk for a recommendation.  She understands my conviction that some of the finest writing and best literature on the planet can be found in Children’s or Young Adult sections because frankly, any author that can catch and keep a kid’s attention for an entire book must be doing something right!

Anyway, Lisa steered me toward because of mr. terupt (Random House, 2010), Rob Buyea’s debut novel.  “You will absolutely love this!” she chirped.

Lisa was right.  I finish a book a week on average.  Terupt is quite possibly the best thing I’ve read all year.

This clever, engaging story is narrated by seven kids in Mr. Terupt’s fifth grade class at Snow Hill School, Connecticut.  Each has a unique “signature” headlining their own chapter – and perspective.  There’s portly, sensitive Danielle; conniving, manipulative Alexia; bookish Jessica, newly re-located from California; Jeffrey, who detests school; Anna, who’s ostracized because of her home life; Peter, the class clown and mischief-maker, and Luke, the brain.

A first-year teacher who is much more than a classroom instructor, Mr. terupt teaches each kid not only how to calculate “dollar words,” the number of blades of grass in the school soccer field or what not to feed a plant experiment, but also about cooperation, compassion, loyalty, faith, forgiveness and courage in the face of overwhelming odds.

mr. terupt is packed with enough plot twists and turns to rival a ride down Disneyland’s Space Mountain.  Whizzing down the slopes from chapter one, the story snowballs into an avalanche of real emotion: fear, guilt, anger, love, courage and hope. The characters are so genuine and three-dimensional, you may feel like you sat next to some of them in your own fifth grade class.  Engrossing and brisk, the story has you ready to spit or pump both fists in the air one minute, then tearing up the next.  I finished all 268 pages in a day and a half.

Lisa was right: I loved because of mr. terupt.  I bet you will, too.  (Bring Kleenex.)


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Review of “The Longest Trip Home”

The Longest Trip Home: A Memoir

By John Grogan

HarperCollins, 2008

ISBN: 978-0-06-171324-8

I expected better from John Grogan.  I loved the pithy insights from his first book, Marley and Me, as well as his richly textured three-dimensional word pictures, nimble pacing and quirky chronicling.  Cynical, sour, and almost suffocatingly self-serving, The Longest Trip Home is a like a stiff shot of castor oil after a Florida-sized slice of cherry cheesecake.

Grogan’s “memoir” is coarse, self-absorbed and worst of all, tedious, eliciting the pizzazz of a plate of overcooked cabbage.  It’s essentially 300-plus pages of an anti-Catholic rant in which the author chronicles – and chortles at – his parents’ “Medieval interpretation of Catholicism, with its literal belief in guardian angels hovering over our shoulders to protect us from the dark agents of Satan,” which, among other things, “strikes both him and his wife, Jenny, as “as almost comically superstitious.”  This narcissistic romp though the author’s sexual conquests – both real and imaginary – also includes the horrors of Catholic school, altar boy service, and so on until the author smugly self-identifies himself as a “non-practicing Catholic.”

After grinding out twenty-four chapters running down his parents’ faith while simultaneously patting himself on the back for deceiving and misleading them about his behavior, mores and mindset for most of his growing up years, Grogan then seems baffled by his parents’ sense of hurt and betrayal when he finally comes clean as a thirty year-old about to be married to a non-Catholic.  He crows about how he has “Finally broken free from my parents’ influence” and “no longer felt the need to lie and obfuscate” and seems to think a crate of champagne is in order.  While Grogan crows about being “unapologetically my own person now…,” readers may wonder why we should care.  (I’m not Catholic, but still found this stuff tedious and bloated.) And did we really need to know every sordid detail about his Sister Mary Lawrence fantasies – as a second grader?

Although Grogan spends two-thirds of the book – 234 pages- ridiculing and belittling his parents’ staunch Catholicism and conservative views, Longest retains a glimmer of Grogan’s past panache.  In Part Three, Coming Home, the author seems to be trying to make up for the past 24 chapters by devoting 91 pages to some sort of penitential “maybe they were right” musings.  A trace of Grogan’s former prose prowess shines forth in the final chapters as he softens his stance while his mother and father succumb to old age, frailty and illness.  His tenderness toward his dad who is dying of leukemia and pneumonia is heartfelt and deep, but in a case of “too little, too late,” Grogan doesn’t quite pull it off.  Instead, he leaves the reader wondering if he’s “come home” to stay or if this is just another pit stop en route back to the land of “lies and obfuscation.”  What’s puzzling – and disappointing – is that the author is capable of much better.