Splendid, soul-stirring Christmas music from Michael W. Smith. With lyrics. Just over 4 minutes. A treat:
Handel, Alaskan-Style
This is terrific!
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.
Protected: A Christmas Story: Isabella’s Torch
Like ‘Ole Bing
I’ve been watching White Christmas every Christmas season for like, uh… fifty years? So much so that I have most of the dialogue down word-for word. Can’t help it. Sure, the movie is a bit thin on plot and somewhat sappy in places, but it just isn’t Christmas without Bob Wallace, Phil Davis, and Betty and Judy Haynes in a snowless Vermont. Besides, nobody sings the title tune like ‘ole Bing. Remember this?
What’s Yours?
Everyone has a story. What’s yours? Roads Diverged is still accepting submissions to our first-ever Holiday Story Showcase!
Here are the basic rules:
– Each submission must be your original work. Please include at the top of your submission (email only): 1) Your name; 2) A word count; 3) “Holiday Story Showcase” in the subject line, followed by your title.
– Length: between 300 and 1,500 words
– Any genre. Stories may be inspirational, fiction, non-fiction, memoir, or humorous. Just make sure they’re G-rated. (I reserve the right to reject any submission, for any reason.)
– I’m looking for clean, uplifting, family-friendly stories that have been thoroughly proof-read.
– First-person narratives are preferred, but not mandatory.
– Stories can be on any winter holiday.
– You may submit more than one story.
– Posting is up to the sole discretion of the blog owner (yours truly), and there is no monetary remuneration for any submission. This is simply an opportunity to share your gifts and stories with the rest of our loyal readers!
– No anonymous submissions. Please include your name.
So, pour yourself a steaming mug of hot apple cider, plop in a cinnamon stick or two and let your creative juices go to work! Be sure the spread the word about our Holiday Story Showcase. The more stories, the merrier!
Please send submissions in the body of an email (NOT as an attachment) to: HolidayStoryShowcase@gmail.com. Last day to submit is December 10.
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.
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!
Huckleberry Creek: Mount Rainier’s Best Kept Secret?
The Huckleberry Creek Trail to Forest Lake Camp may be one of the best kept secrets in Washington State’s Mount Rainier National Park. That’s because you have to be part mountain goat to hike out. Yep, the return trip is almost entirely uphill. Think Empire State Building without an elevator. But this is one trail that’s worth every grunt, groan and creaking knee.
You’d never guess that a world-class wildflower meadow, gurgling creek and glassy tarn are tucked into the conifer-clad valley below Sourdough Ridge at Sunrise on the eastern flank of Mount Rainier. Their secrets are revealed only to the truly intrepid or utterly clueless. Consequently, we had the entire hike to ourselves on a beautiful Thursday in late September, save for one other couple from Holland. And they were lost. See? Everyone with brains headed toward Frozen Lake or Mount Fremont. We, on the other hand, opted for “the road less travelled” and were rewarded with one of the most beautiful alpine settings in the park. And aching knees. But I digress.
Dog-legging off Sourdough Ridge, the Huckleberry Creek trail narrows and turns treacherous as it juts into Huckleberry Basin, especially through a rock-strewn avalanche chute below the basin. Past the chute, the trail slims further to ribbon-width as you dip into a riotous romp of Renoir pastels cleverly disguised as a serene alpine meadow. While the wildflowers aren’t as plentiful on this higher, more exposed side of the Mountain as they are in Paradise, they still paint the landscape in rich floral hues where yellow mountain daisies, purple aster, lupine, fire-engine red Indian paintbrush and white-tufted bear grass splash the landscape like a Louvre-worthy canvas.
Huckleberry Creek winds through tall, thick grass and plays hide and seek with the trail as it skips around gentle knolls and ridges bristling with evergreens. Once you’ve reached the valley, cross a couple split-log foot bridges and elbow the creek on your left. It’s a short walk to Forest Lake Camp.
While its shores are lined with the sun-bleached bones of fallen trees, Forest Lake is as still as the Sphinx. If you’re part polar bear, go for a swim. We lunched at the camp for about an hour, listening to warbling wrens and varied thrushes. Chipmunks scurried nearby as gray jays, those shameless panhandlers, thought we were opening a traveling cafeteria. We left reluctantly as afternoon faded and snow-scrubbed breezes began whining off the Emmons Glacier.
As for the return hike, well, be sure to fuel up the after-burners. Both creek and camp are well worth the hamstring-hollerin’ climb out. Just don’t tell anyone.
Review of ‘Every Last One’ by Anna Quindlen
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.
Pages & Paws 