Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Giveaway: Signed Copy of John Green's The Fault in Our Stars



Up for grabs: a signed copy of the book everyone's been talking about. Giveaway ends on March 7, 2012. 


U.S. residents only, please. The winner will be contacted by email and will have 48 hours to respond. 


Who can enter? Anyone who follows LitStack via Facebook or Pinterest. 


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Goodreads product description:


Diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer at 12, Hazel was prepared to die until, at 14, a medical miracle shrunk the tumours in her lungs... for now. 

Two years post-miracle, sixteen-year-old Hazel is post-everything else, too; post-high school, post-friends and post-normalcy. And even though she could live for a long time (whatever that means), Hazel lives tethered to an oxygen tank, the tumours tenuously kept at bay with a constant chemical assault. 

Enter Augustus Waters. A match made at cancer kid support group, Augustus is gorgeous, in remission, and shockingly to her, interested in Hazel. Being with Augustus is both an unexpected destination and a long-needed journey, pushing Hazel to re-examine how sickness and health, life and death, will define her and the legacy that everyone leaves behind.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Lent Fitness Challenge Check In #1


Has it only been three days?

God, yes.

Sunday Salon and Sounding Off, 3.

This one's going to be short.

I've been reading a lot. And I have a lot of halfway finished books. AWESOME books.

I'm halfway through The Tiger's Wife, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, Stay Awake, and I'm almost through with The Blood Sugar Solution.

These should be reviewed sometime soon, hopefully all by Friday.

I have one post left for The Moveable Feast read-a-long, and Wallace is also organizing the Bleak House read-a-long, if any of you are interested.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Lent and My Fitness Challenge





                                                                    Source: orthodoxchristiancraftsupply.com via Jennifer on Pinterest


Alright, so I'm a lapsed Catholic, sorta. I haven't been to Mass in about two years, and while I miss the sense of community and the rites, it's not enough to make me wake up early Sunday morning. That I haven't been able to find a church in this vicinity is a close second. After we moved (late 2008) from our home, it wasn't feasible to drive over an hour to make Mass at my old church. Geez, I loved that place! But anyhow, even though I'm not a strict adherent, I'd still like to give a little something up for Lent. What I'm giving up?

It's a little something called couch time.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Review: Camilla Lackberg's The Preacher

The Preacher

By Camilla Lackberg

Published by Gallery Books, and imprint of

Release Date: Feb. 7, 2011

Pages 401

ISBN:978-1-4516-2177-8






The body of a young lady is found in a cave in the tiny little fishing village of Fjallbacka. Even more shocking, two more bodies are found buried underneath her.  Could these be the same women who went missing twenty years ago? Could there be a killer who’s been on the loose this long? What is the connection between these three victims? And when a fourth woman goes missing, can the authorities find out who this serial killer is, in time to save her?

Patrick Hedstrom is in charge of this case, and with a pregnant girlfriend, some coworkers who are hardly dedicated to their jobs, a distracted boss, and a constant influx of family crashing at their place, he’s got his hands full.

As Patrick goes over old leads, his gut instinct tells him the Hults have something to do with these grisly murders. Their grandfather, known as The Preacher, moved into the community when one his followers died and left her land and property to him. Prior to this, he’d toured his two young sons as healers, successfully finagling money from all those he’d duped. After the boys lost their gift during puberty, he’d settled down into the small village and left the preaching behind. But The Preacher’s son was the last person known to have been with the girl who went missing twenty years before. And when he committed suicide soon after being accused, everyone in town knew why. He couldn’t stand the guilt. But if he’s dead, and there’s a dead body and another missing, who the heck is doing the killing? And why is each victim riddle with broken bones in various states of healing?

I read and reviewed Lackberg’s The Ice Princess last March as part of the Gallery blog tour.  A couple memorable things: the writing seemed a little clichéd, and I couldn’t tell if it was the writing or the translation (original book is in Swedish). I have the same issues with this follow up. Second, though the writing wasn’t anywhere near spectacular, Lackberg knows how to get the reader involved in her world. So, even if you probably already know halfway through the book who the villain is, you still want to know about what happens to all the peripheral characters.

Ultimate verdict: Crime beach read


Winner of The Literary Blog Hop Giveaway Announced!


Hey y'all! I enjoyed reading all your favorite titles of this year and as a result, have added more books to my already ginormous TBR list.

As for the answer to my favorite read of 2012 (so far!), it's Heidi Julavits's The Vanishers. Cliche as it sounds, the book blew me away.

The winner of Jan-Philipp Sendker's The Art of Hearing Heartbeats is:

 Stephanie of Misprinted Page

Stephanie, I'll be emailing you for your shipping address.

Thanks to everyone who entered my giveaway!

Monday, February 20, 2012

Review: The Wolf Gift by Anne Rice

The Wolf Gift

By Anne Rice

Publisher: Knopf

Release Date: February 14, 2011

404 pages

ISBN: 978-0307595119


*I received this title from NetGalley



Let me start out by saying that I consider Anne Rice to be the Queen of the American Vampire genre. I can’t remember reading anything remotely comparable to her dark, lush, atmospheric Lestat Chronicles or her Mayfair Witch Files. Yes, Elizabeth Kostova’s The Historian totally kicked ass, but unlike Rice, she wrote one book about vampires, and then moved onto to something else

Back in 1993, I was introduced to Rice through The Witching Hour, her first in the Lives of the Mayfair Witches. I had nightmares for weeks and stopped reading the book after I was halfway through. I then started Interview with the Vampire a year or so later, and became a staunch Rice devotee. Yes, some of her characters  verged on cheesiness, and the whole religious debate thing could get a little tiresome at times, but on the whole, Rice was creating a world that I, along with millions of other people, would rather inhabit than my own.

I breezed through every one in both series, (and read countless other titles), then stopped at the Songs of Seraphim series. I was now an adult, and I wanted to read something different, something heavier out of my books.  That Rice converted to Catholicism was not a factor in this, but I’ve learned a lot of people stopped reading her books when she made the switch.

A few months ago, I read Glen Duncan’s The Last Werewolf, and though  massively disappointed on a couple levels, I was overall thrilled that werewolves were finally getting their due. Enough about the bloodsuckers already!  

I expected that when Anne Rice entered the game, she would take the genre  by storm and show them all how it’s done.

Uh… no.

A quick synopsis of the novel:

Reuben, a young reporter, is doing a write up on a mansion for sale off the Pacific Coast. His guide is the older, beautiful niece of the owner, who mysteriously disappeared years before. As they inevitably succumb to a night of passion (as they usually do in Rice novels), they fall victim to a savage attack that leaves one of them dead and the other, critically wounded.

Reuben recovers at a rapid pace, confounding both the doctors and the media, and is now endowed with both superhuman abilities and strength. As he learns that he is becoming much like the beast that attacked him, he is both horrified and seduced by his new found capabilities. Think Spider-Man meets Wolf-Man. He hears the voices of those in peril, rushes off to rescue them, and leaves a wealth of eyewitnesses behind, thereby unleashing a nationwide search for the Superhero Man-Wolf. As Reuben becomes embroiled in both his own personal transformation and the calling to help others, he learns of a secret group of men who are like him, and possess knowledge about the nature and the origin of the beast he’s become.

Okay, now for my thoughts.

First, this is not Anne Rice’s best work. Second, this is not Anne Rice’s best writing. Third, towards the second part of the novel, it lapses into Anne Rice’s old territory but leaves much to be desired in its execution. Fourth, the love interest bit was completely unbelievable and eye-rolling worthy. Fifth, the first half of the novel was so filled with cliché and weird phrases and writing that seemed much more in line with that of a beginning writer who shows promise, than an established writer who’s sold well into hundreds of millions of copies of her books.

While there were enough reasons to stop reading this book (and I was tempted to), I kept hoping that I’d see something vaguely recognizable to Anne Rice’s talent. And though she reintroduces several familiar elements: the gorgeous house with history, the immortal creatures who know more than we know, the collision between religion and science and free will and destiny, the fabulously rich and beautiful characters that typically populate her novels, it just reads like a formulaic sub par novel written by someone trying to mimic Rice’s style and failing miserably.

That being said, Rice has an ability to write about philosophical questions that plague not only these monsters, but humanity in general, that puts her head and shoulders above most people writing about werewolves.

Quotes:
"Talk is suspect. When we talk about our lives, long or short, brief and tragic or enduring beyond comprehension, we impose a continuity on them, and that continuity is a lie. "
"It's the nature of mediocre human beings to believe that lies are necessary, that they serve a purpose, that truth is subversive, that candor is dangerous, that the very scaffold of communal life is supported by lies--."
We always come back to that--that both the brutal world and the spiritual world are sources of truth, that truth resides in the viscera of all those who struggle as well as in the souls of those who would transcend the struggle.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Literary Giveaway Blog Hop

Welcome!

Welcome to the Literary Giveaway Blog Hop!
The Literary Giveaway Blog Hop is hosted by Leeswammes. Between now and Wednesday, February 22nd, you can hop to over 50 different book blogs, all offering one or more giveaways of books or bookish items. All books will be literary  or something close to that. Follow the links at the bottom of this post to find the other participating blogs.

I am giving away a copy of Jan Philipp Sendker's The Art of Hearing Heartbeats.
Giveaway is open to wherever Book Depository ships. You don't have to be a follower of this blog, but I'd appreciate it if you were.



Winner will be picked by random.org on Feb. 22 and will have 48 hours to respond by email.

So what's the catch? There is none. Simply comment below with your favorite read of 2012 (so far), and you'll be put in the drawing.

And dont' forget to visit these other fantastic blogs for a chance to win more books!



  1. Leeswammes
  2. Curiosity Killed The Bookworm
  3. Lit Endeavors (US)
  4. The Book Whisperer
  5. Rikki's Teleidoscope
  6. 2606 Books and Counting
  7. The Parrish Lantern
  8. Sam Still Reading
  9. Bookworm with a view
  10. Breieninpeking (Dutch readers)
  11. Seaside Book Nook
  12. Elle Lit (US)
  13. Nishita's Rants and Raves
  14. Tell Me A Story
  15. Living, Learning, and Loving Life (US)
  16. Book'd Out
  17. Uniflame Creates
  18. Tiny Library (UK)
  19. An Armchair by the Sea (UK)
  20. bibliosue
  21. Lena Sledge's Blog (US)
  22. Roof Beam Reader
  23. Misprinted Pages
  24. Mevrouw Kinderboek (Dutch readers)
  25. Under My Apple Tree (US)
  26. Indie Reader Houston
  27. Book Clutter
  28. I Am A Reader, Not A Writer (US)
  29. Lizzy's Literary Life
  30. Sweeping Me



  1. Caribousmom (US)
  2. Minding Spot (US)
  3. Curled Up With a Good Book and a Cup of Tea
  4. The Book Diva's Reads
  5. The Blue Bookcase
  6. Thinking About Loud!
  7. write meg! (US)
  8. Devouring Texts
  9. Thirty Creative Studio (US)
  10. The Book Stop
  11. Dolce Bellezza (US)
  12. Simple Clockwork
  13. Chocolate and Croissants
  14. The Scarlet Letter (US)
  15. Reflections from the Hinterland (N. America)
  16. De Boekblogger (Europe, Dutch readers)
  17. Readerbuzz (US)
  18. Must Read Faster (N. America)
  19. Burgandy Ice @ Colorimetry
  20. carolinareti
  21. MaeGal
  22. Ephemeral Digest
  23. Scattered Figments (UK)
  24. Bibliophile By the Sea
  25. The Blog of Litwits (US)
  26. Kate Austin
  27. Alice Anderson (US)
  28. Always Cooking up Something

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Why I Love the 80s, Part I.



Variety is the spice of a blog. I think. Some non-bookish fun:)

80s Stuff That Rocked:

1. The Big Chill. If you haven't seen it, shame on you! William Hurt, Glenn Close, Kevin Kline, JoBeth Williams, seriously an all star cast with performances that will dazzle you and leave you wishing they still made movies like this.

When one of their college buddies commits suicide, these friends (most of whom have lost contact with one another) get together for a weekend to reconnect and get their bearings before going back out into the world. Among them is an actor, a housewife, an attorney, a writer... and all of them have significantly changed since their younger days. Some of them have lost their integrity, some their idealism, some their hope. And all of them hope to touch base with not only their long lost friends, but also their old selves.



2. Penny loafers. Oh yeah, I was the nerdy girl with the red glasses and penny loafers, WITH the shiny new penny inserted. And if that wasn't nerdy enough, I was carrying my clarinet case and a stack of Judy Blume books. The clarinet and the red glasses are now gone (replaced with even nerdier black ones), but I still have a pair of burgundy leather Bass loafers. I rarely ever wear them, but I love them to death, and I will smack you if you tell me "Those are so, like, 80s!"

Because, really, enough is enough! I'm tired of the heels that make my arches fall, and the balls of my foot ache, and my toes throb. I'm waiting for a return of these sensible, comfortable, totally nerdish (but in a GOOD way) shoes.


3. Labyrinth: David Bowie in tights. Directed by Jim Henson. Produced by George Lucas. Need I say more? I saw the movie when I was a kid, my kids have seen this movie countless times and love it more every time. Older kids will enjoy the costume ball, younger kids will laugh their *sses off with the goblins, and adults will appreciate the writing, the character development, and most importantly, The Message.



4. Trolls: How can you not love these fugly little things?



80s Stuff That Did NOT Rock:

1. The hair: Self-explanatory. I still think Aqua Net is solely responsible for the hole in the ozone layer.


2. Neon clothes: Olive skin tone and neon colors don't go together. Ever. You end up looking like you have skin the color of puke. And by you, I mean me.


3. Scrunched socks: Whoever started this sock craze was not from Texas. I remember suffering through hot-as-hell RGV muggy mornings, having to wear two, or even three pairs of these socks at a time, just because everyone else was doing it. Yup, I was a sheep. And my mother wasn't happy about having to washing so. many. damn. socks. Jenny! (<-----her words, not mine!)


4. Dancing: Thanks to groups like New Kids on the Block, dancing was a group thing. And I couldn't dance. Couldn't do the Running Man. Not even the Roger Rabbit. I'd be the kid on the dance floor, shifting from one foot to the other, wishing I didn't look like a robot. Yeah, that move wasn't intentional. Meanwhile, my friends had choreographed their dances to NKOTB, Debbie Gibson, and Madonna.


What do you miss and/or not miss about this decade? Were you a Neon, Spandex-wearing Queen? Did you have a 10 inch do? Were you the jean roller-upper waiting for the flood?

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Jack Murnighan and Maura Kelly: Much Ado About Loving

Much Ado About Love: What Our Favorite Novels Can Teach About Date Expectations, Not-So-Great Gatsbys, and Love in the Time of Internet Personals


by Jack Murnighan and Maura Kelly

Publisher: Free Press, and imprint of Simon and Schuster

Release date: Jan. 2012

ISBN: 978-1-4516-2124-2

*Was given this book in exchange for an honest review.

So, when I was growing up, I read a lotta, lotta bad books. Like Danielle Steele, and Jude Deveraux, and Nora Roberts, and a big chunk of the Harlequin Romance genre stuff. My mother should be shot, I know. In all fairness, she was working a lot and I'd sneak into her room, snag 'em, then haul ass back to my bedroom and swoon over some swarthy, simmering, intense, Byronic/Heathcliff wannabe.

You can imagine that my concept of love and relationships would be somewhat distorted. I once dated a guy that (at 16!!) kept track of my menstrual cycle. Ew. Ugh. Yuck. As soon as I found out that lovely bit of information, things fizzled. One of my friends (more disturbed than I) thought it was cool. He must really like me, if he's paying attention to those little details. Um...no.

When I was at university, I started talking to the brother of one of my buddies. She'd given him my number and we'd talk on the phone every once in a while. My boyfriend and I had broken up, I was bored and lonely, and I figured, why not? One day, he decided it was time to meet, face to face, and we set up and a time and place. He says only that he'll be wearing glasses and will have on a maroon shirt. Uh oh. Red flag. So, I walk in and see him right away, but pretend I don't and then walk away. I know, I know.... God has punishment waiting for me, I'm sure . Or maybe I've already paid.

My point is, that great (<----------------Harlequin Romance is NOT this) literature has so many answers and so much wisdom that can advise, instruct, and warn, for anyone who is willing to put in the time and effort.

In other words, if I'd read Madame Bovary in high school, maybe I'd  have realized the hazards of high-flown notions of love, and how exceedingly stupid one can be when they expect life to read like a sappy, badly-written romance.






I'm going to rattle off the titles of a few chapters here, so you can get a better idea of what kind of novels are covered:

The Hell Jar
Why It's Your Problem if No Guy is Good Enough

Overly Great Expectations
Why Idealizing Someone Can Come Back to Bite You

The Heart is a Lonely Little Guy
What to do with All That Longing

Lightbulb in August
How to Have a Clue When He's Just Not That Into You

Love in the Time of Online Dating
Why Too Much Emailing Can Be Dangerous

Not-So-Great Gatsby
Is it Flattering or Creepy when a Guy Persists?

Farewell to Charms
The Macho Man--Can He Have a Soft Side?

The Brief Wondrous Life of My Last Relationship
Are Men Genetically Coded to Cheat?

Revolutionary Road to Hell
Lose That Guy Who Is Still Trying to Find Himself

I haven't yet read all the chapters, simply because I haven't yet read some of these novels, and I don't want to know what happens. I'm still emotionally preparing myself to read Revolutionary Road. And Remembrance of Things Passed. Yes, I know these novels are the best thing since chocolate covered strawberries, but I have to work my way up to them.

Back to the book: here's a fantastic excerpt from Overly Great Expectations:

"I know from experience that our ideas about what might come of an infatuation are all too often dangerous mirages, calling us to them only to throw us pitilessly against their rocks. Vivid as they may seem in our heads, they're often inspired by dizzy delusions rather than real-world evidence that a long-lasting romance might be at hand; we see what we want to see rather than reality because our fantasies are such pleasant distractions from our dissatisfying lives."

Reading through the chapters pertaining to books I've read (Great Expectations, Sons and Lovers, Love in The Time of Cholera, Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary, The Bell Jar, etc.) I realized there were a lot of things I'd forgotten, for example (spoiler alert!!) Paul Morel helps euthanize his mother. WTH?! Can't believe I forgot that one.

Aside from that, this book reminded me of my love for classics. I feel the urge to read something timeless...I'm debating between Bleak House, Jane Eyre, and Magic Mountain.

Oh, and Happy V-day, folks!

Here's a Valentine for all you book lovers!

By Ben Kling
Check out his other stuff on Tumblr.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Week Two: A Moveable Feast read-a-long

Today I’ll be covering chapters 9-17 of Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast. Wallace over at Unputdownables is hosting this wonderful event.

This second installment should have been posted on Friday, so don’t be confused when you see the third segment posted in just a few days.

On to the memoir:




The Closerie de Lilas is a café that Hemingway frequents, worlds away from the more popular cafes that some people go to, in order to be seen. Hemingway writes, and he is annoyed when he is distracted.
From Wikimedia
As a writer, I guess it falls in line that he'd be a people-watcher. He sees survivors of the war, and notes their missing limbs and their facial reconstructions.
In those days we did not trust anyone who had not been in the war, but we did not completely trust anyone...
He's pretty brutal to a man who insists on talking to him, and when the man says Everybody always said you were cruel and heartless and conceited, Hemingway responds with: If you can't write, why don't you learn to write criticism?"
A big ouch for all the critics out there.

Hemingway’s observations on his contemporaries are fascinating. I remember the mentioning of Ford Madox Ford, but I didn’t remember how physically repulsed he was by the man (he describes him as unkempt and foul smelling). From Hemingway's side of things, it does seem like Ford is a pompous ass, as he goes off and makes these inane remarks about gentlemen, cads, and bounders (definition: a man of objectionable social behavior). But he follows Ezra Pound's advice and avoids offending Ford.

Ford, Joyce, Pound, and Quinn.
Photo credit

In fact, much of this memoir seems to be charting the ins and outs of his relationships with many artists and writers. They are a difficult bunch, overly sensitive, easily offended, and moody as hell.

He often refers to being poor, and even mentions how he'll skip meals in order to be able to grab drinks with fellow artists.

When you are twenty-five and are a natural heavyweight, missing a meal makes you very hungry, but it also sharpens all of your perceptions.

Stay hungry. Sound advice, right? But I keep coming across information that says otherwise. That Hemingway and Hadley were bringing about 3,000 a year, which was "a decent sum in the inflated economies of Europe at the time."

Which brings me to something I was wondering about in the first post: is Hemingway a reliable narrator? Are any of us reliable narrators when it comes to our past? I mean, come on: I'm only 33 and have mythologized and idealized a number of people in my life. It's no stretch of the imagination to assume that one day I'll idealize certain periods of my life as well. And Hemingway is writing about a number of people who have died or come to ruin; wouldn't it be natural to remember his youth as a simpler, more innocent period? Aren't we all guilty of that?

Hemingway and Hadley
Photo credit


One of people I really enjoy reading about in this memoir is Ezra Pound. He displays an abundance of generosity towards writers, artists, musicians, sculptors, going so far as to set up a fund to help get T.S. Eliot out of his day job (as a banker) so that he might have more time to write poetry. And of course, it's well known how instrumental Pound was in editing and putting together Eliot's masterpiece, The Waste Land. And while Pound appealed to fellow writers to help raise money for one of their own, Hemingway gambled on horses, something he struggles with repeatedly in AMF.

Ok, remember Getrude, the know-it-all writer who tells Hemingway his stuff isn't good enough to be published in Atlantic Monthly, and then bullies all the other writers and artists in her crowd?

Well, she and Hemingway come to the end of their close friendship after he overhears a conversation she is having with Alice (her lover). This bad-ass broad, who snaps her fingers and gets people to jump, is being talked to in a manner that obviously offends and shocks the hell out of Hemingway himself, who is obviously not someone with delicate sensibilities.

I have to say, I am dying of curiosity here. What could Ernest have heard that day?

Stein and Toklas
Photo Credit



One of the following chapters deals with the Irish poet, Ernest Walsh, in "The Man Who Was Marked for Death." I had to read and re-read this chapter, and still am not entirely sure what to make of it. Hemingway first meets Walsh in Pound's studio, when Walsh drives up in a long car with two women (girls, Hemingway calls them). While H is chatting up these girls, Pound and Walsh are deep in conversation. Later, we learn that Welsh's belongings are being held because he has an outstanding bill at Claridge'sAMF, and one I'm sure any history buff would enjoy.

Chapter 17 was to be included in this 2nd week, but being that it deals with F. Scott Fitzgerald, I will be rolling it into my post on Friday.

And for all of you that want to know more about Hadley and Hemingway and the Paris Years, you should stop by The Hemingway Project.  Click HERE to hear a recording of Hadley's response to A Moveable Feast. Interesting stuff!

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Review: Shannon Hale's Midnight in Austenland

Midnight in Austenland

By Shannon Hale

Published by Bloomsbury

Release date: Jan. 31, 2012

ISBN: 978-1608196258
Source: NetGalley

Maybe if she stood in the places where Austen wrote, where her characters lived, she could feel again as she had when reading her books--not like a girl who'd been wadded up and tossed aside, but like a woman with possibilities.
Who needs Calgon when you’ve got Jane Austen?

Charlotte has had enough of her life. Recently divorced, by a man who was not only cheated on her, but took her for all she was worth, Charlotte takes the opportunity to leave it all behind for greener, Austen pastures. And it’s no secret her kids need time away from her as well, especially after her daughter finds out Charlotte was following her boyfriend. In her defense, mom knows he’s up to no good, and wants to save her daughter a little heartache.

Thanks to the profitable sale of her landscaping website, Charlotte can afford a two week visit to Austenland, a place that provides an immersive Jane Austen experience meant to fulfill the most elaborate fantasy a woman could conjure. And in her case, enough drama to keep her mind off the problems back home. But leaving her problems behind is only part of the problem: can she find a way to leave the old Charlotte behind and become a worthy heroine?

Midnight in Austenland is the Hale’s follow up to Austenland, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Midnight, however fell a little short of my expectations. But it also surprised me in many ways: this book is more ambitious than the first. While Austenland was a complete escapist read, Midnight was an exploration of how the past and all its disappointments can cement us into this person that we no longer want to be. And for every chapter that reveals more of Charlotte’s character, we see a chapter rooted in the past, that explains a little more of why Charlotte is the way she is. Hale’s writing seemed markedly different, and better when explaining Charlotte’s past, than it did when she was writing about the Austen setting.

Towards the end, I did become a little frustrated with the twists and turns of Austenland, but I also didn’t see a lot of it coming. The end, of course, was a little sappy, but it wasn’t a huge disappointment.

Midnight in Austenland will appeal to fans of Jane Austen and the fan fiction genre, and for those who need a little Calgon-ish retreat.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Review: Heidi Julavits's The Vanishers

Today my review of Heidi Julavits's The Vanishers is up at Lit Stack.

Goodreads synopsis:

From the acclaimed novelist and The Believer editor HEIDI JULAVITS, a wildly imaginative and emotionally intense novel about mothers, daughters, and the psychic damage women can inflict on one another. Is the bond between mother and daughter unbreakable, even by death? Julia Severn is a student at an elite institute for psychics. Her mentor, the legendary Madame Ackermann, afflicted by jealousy, refuses to pass the torch to her young disciple. Instead, she subjects Julia to the humiliation of reliving her mother's suicide when Julia was an infant. As the two lock horns, and Julia gains power, Madame Ackermann launches a desperate psychic attack that leaves Julia the victim of a crippling ailment. Julia retreats to a faceless job in Manhattan. But others have noted Julia's emerging gifts, and soon she's recruited to track down an elusive missing person—a controversial artist who might have a connection to her mother. As Julia sifts through ghosts and astral clues, everything she thought she knew of her mother is called into question, and she discovers that her ability to know the minds of others—including her own—goes far deeper than she ever imagined. As powerful and gripping as all of Julavits's acclaimed novels, The Vanishers is a stunning meditation on grief, female rivalry, and the furious power of a daughter's love

Monday, February 6, 2012

Flash Fiction #3 : Dues

Photo by Drew Hoffman
After the last time, he promised her he wouldn't come home with another new car. With the mortagage, the kids in school, and the recurring unforeseen expenses of said kids, they were struggling.

It was time to think about braces, about gymnastics, about art classes. No time for new cars.

And the money fights were always the worst ones.

He didn't understand himself how they could collapse into such savagery. Why they couldn't talk things out without shouting. Or crying. Or leaving.

Why they couldn't be like that family from that famous sitcom. Or even the neighbors who lived in the slate blue four-square around the corner. They'd walk hand in hand around the subdivision before dusk and the swarm of mosquitos. He envied the easy silence between them.

It was all What the fuck were you thinking, and What the hell is wrong with you? He'd call her a leech, she'd tell him he was an idiot, he'd say she was sucking the life out of him and she'd scream he stole the best years of her youth.

It had become embarrassingly predictable, and yet neither one of them could write themselves out of the role they played. After the fights, the routines were what saved them. Wake the kids at 6:45. Take Lily and the neighbor's daughter to Girl Scouts every other Tuesday. Grocery shopping on Sundays. Catechism on Wednesdays from six to eight. Weekly parent teacher conferences for Hannah. Make sure Chloe gets enough sleep or she'll be a terror by 5 o clock. Feed the dog. Take out the trash.

These were the things that bound them together.

He couldn't explain why he'd driven into the Dickinson Chevrolet car lot. Why he'd price haggled with the smug salesman in his early twenties, an acne plagued Italian sporting the latest orchestrated bedhead look. The bastard didn't know a thing about engine performance or the beauty of low profile tires. He probably drove a Malibu.

He didn't know why he'd gone as far as to leave the keys to his Saab sedan with the management team, who'd encouraged him to take the car for the night and test it out for himself.

And now, one month to the day he'd brought home the sleek black Saleen Mustang, he was driving home with an orange Camaro Z28 with black hockey sticks. And he knew the script they'd follow. The shaking in her voice as she asked him if he'd gone fucking nuts. Her face a map of rage. The throwing of anything she could get her hands on. The repeated lines. The draining of the fury and the residual disappointment and despair.

--------------------

After the last projectile-- a can of Wild Cherry Pepsi-- had been hurled with stunning precision, they sat in the living room, their breathing synchronized. She softly brushed the hair off his forehead and sighed. They'd looked at their bank account, their savings, the 401K.

It just couldn't be done. He'd return the car tomorrow morning.

The TV screen cast a soft green glow in the living room, and the newscaster reported the latest injuries at the demonstration downtown. Four in ICU, 19 incarcerated. Possible police brutality. Footage circulating on YouTube and other social channels. Lawyers said victims would make a killing in civil court.

Hey, she said in a low voice.

Hmm, he whispered, his eyes still closed.

It's over.

----------------

This was written for the Lit Stack Flash Fiction prompt. 

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Sunday Salon and Sound Off #3

By Peter Fong
print available on Etsy.
Hey all, hope you've had a great week of reading/writing.
This week was a spotty week for me: I didn't get much reading or writing done, and a few of the books I did read weren't as good as I thought or hoped they'd be. So disappointing! Especially when you have a limited amount of time to read and a staggering TBR...but I'm sure y'all know the feeling all too well.

On the upside: I joined the staff of Lit Stack!! If you haven't been to their awesome site, please check it out.
What you'll find this week:
In addition to this, I was notified that I've been picked as a 2012 World Book Giver. So on April 23rd,  me and my girls will be heading on over to our local community college and then the maternity ward to hand out out 20 copies of whatever title I'm given. I picked I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, but I won't know for certain for a while. I know the majority of people picked the Hunger Games Trilogy. Have you read any of those titles? What do you think of them? My 12 year old read them and thinks they're right up there with moist chocolate cake and ooVoo.

Some great pieces I came across this week:

And now for the books:



I won both of these titles in a giveaway on Theodora Goss's blog. I knew my oldest daughter would get a kick out of this book's construction (it's like an accordion) and the love story. I haven't vetted it yet for her, but I'll get to it sometime this week.

Blurb:

The Big Chill meets The Group in Deborah Copaken Kogan's wry, lively, and irresistible new novel about a once- close circle of friends at their twentieth college reunion.

Um, they had me at The Big Chill, one of my favorite movies. Excellent writing, divine acting, a killer soundtrack! I can only hope this book lives up to the promises.

This week, I'll be participating in a blog tour for Camilla Lackberg's The Preacher, a follow up to The Ice Princess.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

A Moveable Feast : Week One

I may have forgotten to mention this before, but I'm taking part in a read-a-long of A Moveable Feast. If you're interested in reading along, please visit Wallace's Unputdownables.

I'm not a Hemingway fan. In middle school, I attempted to read his The Old Man and The Sea and twenty pages in, swore I'd never try another title by him again. I broke my promise a few years later in high school where I attempted not only For Whom The Bell Tolls, but The Sun Also Rises. No kidding, those titles had me snoring in minutes.

It wasn't that he'd been hyped up and I was afraid I wouldn't grasp the material; my English teacher (who would become the Arbiter of Literary Taste for me) thought he was a hack and had no respect for him. Nope, to her he was the dung on the sole of Thomas Hardy's shoe. But a book report was a book report and I chose Hemingway because his books were shorter (lazy ass that I was). When the deadline loomed, I switched to the Great Gatsby and fell in love with F. Scott Fitzgerald and never looked back. Even when my Mrs. Helland was aghast that I'd fallen in love with such an unworthy writer who not only basked in the decadence of an era, indeed was the epitome of it. I politely disagreed.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Review: Peter Sis's The Conference of the Birds

Peter Sis

The Conference of the Birds

Published by Penguin Press

Release Date: Oct. 2011

160 pages

ISBN:978-1594203060