It was a busy month for me, which meant there was less time for reading, but of course I still fit in a few books. I’m excited to share them with you today, so let’s jump right to the reviews!
FICTION
Summerland Cove, by Ellen Baker — Lindy has spent a lifetime of summers at her family cottage (“Innisfree”) in Summerland Cove, Maine: it’s where she met her husband David when they were teenagers and where she vacationed with her own four children when they were young. And this summer at Innisfree—the summer of 2010—will be the most eventful one yet, as the cottage is where Lindy will be hosting parties for David’s fiftieth birthday party, her parents’ fiftieth anniversary, and her oldest daughter Hailey’s wedding. But when David fails to show up for his own party, Lindy knows something is wrong.
The family springs into action on a quest to find David. But his disappearance is disruptive in more ways than one, exposing long-buried secrets and brokenness across three generations. We follow the search for David through the eyes of Lindy, her daughter Hailey, and her mother Greta, and as the search continues, each woman must come to terms with aspects of her past and present that she would rather not confront. As Lindy wonders what happened to David and whether their entire marriage has been a sham, Greta must wrestle with her husband’s dementia (and how to keep it from their children) while Hailey wonders if she should even get married at all.
This book came on the heels of several other not-to-my taste titles, and at the risk of sounding like a broken record with my reviews, this was yet another book that didn’t work for me. Despite a decent setup with many story elements I tend to love in my reading—complicated family dynamics, a subtle mystery, story told from multiple perspectives, flashbacks to decades-earlier storylines—I couldn’t bring myself to care anything for these unlikeable characters. The entire novel hinges on multiple layers of failure-to-communicate (my least favorite trope), and I grew increasingly annoyed by the unnecessary lies and secrets and miscommunications. The story drags, detracting from the intended element of suspense, and the plot-twists and whiplash changes of heart are way too cheesy, making it difficult for me to take the weighty themes (mental illness, suicidal ideation, assault) very seriously.
This gets three stars from me because the mystery DID keep me reading, and because I liked the 2010 setting—it was fun that this story about a wedding takes place just two years after I planned my own wedding, and I enjoyed the nostalgia factor. (Though I doubt that’s why the novel is set in the past; the story as it is written simply could not happen in the 2020s, when the prevalence of technology makes a missing-person story impossible to pull off. I feel for mystery writers attempting to write a believable story set in the present day.) I also enjoyed the Maine setting, though the author could have done more to ramp up the coastal atmosphere.
This does not live up to the Apples Never Fall comparisons, but if you are looking for a beach family drama with a hint of romance and mystery—and are able to put up with subpar writing and convenient miscommunication—you might appreciate this one more than I did.
My Rating: 3 Stars // Book Format: Kindle
The Someday Garden, by Amy Poston — The gardens of Lilymoor House on the cliffs of Odette, Maine, have always been magical—perhaps never more than in their uniting of Sophie Drear and her best friend, Harrie, who bonded as college Freshman over their mutual love for a Lilymoor documentary. Sophie and Harrie celebrated their college graduation with a road trip to the enchanted home and promised to reunite at the estate ten years later. And Sophie has upheld her side of the promise: now a successful horticulturist for the New York Botanical Garden, she’s taken leave from her job to spend the summer restoring the Lilymoor grounds to their former glory for a grand two hundredth anniversary celebration.
Still reeling from Harrie’s death eleven months earlier, Sophie hopes she might find renewed purpose and healing at Lilymoor, and she does find that in the form of a gorgeous (if rather stubborn) garden, the welcoming employees of the estate, and Eula Black, the eccentric old woman who owns Lilymoor. Falling in love is NOT on Sophie’s radar. But then, a mysterious door appears in the garden. . . and keeps reappearing, never in the same place, but always with the same, disgruntled (yet frustratingly handsome) man trapped inside. Sophie senses that this secret garden is intended for her, and it’s soon apparent that she must unlock its secrets in order to rediscover the lost parts of herself that she thought were gone forever.
I LOVED Ashley Poston’s Seven Year Slip, which is one of my favorite romances of all time, but now that I’ve read two of Poston’s subsequent titles, I’m starting to think that Seven Year Slip was a one-hit-wonder for me: sadly, The Someday Garden did not deliver the magical romance I anticipated. Mostly, I found the story painstakingly slow, and while this is predominately a character-driven novel, I never felt like I really got to know our protagonist or her love interest (with “love interest” being used loosely, as they have almost no chemistry minus one very steamy love scene). The deeper story components (the grief study in particular) are painfully overwritten, the prose is lacking, and the magical realism element is left unexplained, which is something I can handle if it fits well with the story; here it is so contrived that it pulled me out of my reading experience and left me rolling my eyes. (And speaking of eyes: I will never forget Poston’s excessive use of the phrase minty eyes in A Novel Love Story—used twenty times in that book, if I recall correctly; in The Someday Garden, we have a return of the eye descriptions, with the phrase “caramel eyes” used eight times!)
The book does have a couple of redeeming elements: I’m a sucker for a luscious garden setting and beautiful floral descriptions, and those are abundant within the novel’s pages. I also thought it was interesting to explore the grief experience through the loss of a friend (rather than a spouse or close relative). And then there are the chapter headings, each named for an “untranslatable word” from Harrie’s journal (“Erklärungsnot,” “Pochemuchka,” etc); I enjoyed the mystery of these titles, and had fun reading through their definitions at the end of the book. These were endearing; the rest of the novel, less so.
My Rating: 2.5 Stars // Book Format : Kindle
Every Last One, by Anna Quindlen — Mary Beth Latham is a mother of three teenaged children, and every aspect of her life revolves around meeting their physical and emotional needs. Ruby, her creative and capable oldest child, is the joy of her life, and while Mary Beth doesn’t always understand her twin sons (Alex, the cool and confident jock, and Max, the depressed musician), she will do everything she can to help them find happiness and success as they enter their high school years. Mary Beth’s comfortable marriage and tight-knit circle of friends, as well as her easy relationships with her children’s peers, serve to round out her perfectly-happy (if somewhat chaotic) life. But then tragedy strikes. What follows is a vivid portrayal of a mother’s herculean journey toward healing and purpose in the face of unfathomable heartbreak.
I read my first Anna Quindelin novel (More Than Enough) last month and, enamored with her writing style, I couldn’t wait to dig into her backlist. I snatched up the first backlist title available on Libby, but midway through the book—when everything changes for the Latham family—I realized that I should have done some vetting before reading. The story captured me from page one: I loved the realistic portrayal of a family of teens, and resonated with many aspects of Mary Beth’s motherhood journey. However, my kids are younger than Mary Beth’s, and reading about parenting teens often makes me anxious. . . and that was definitely the case here. In addition to the general anxiety I tend to feel when reading about experiences I know are ahead for my family and that I’m not thrilled about, I disliked reading about Mary Beth’s casual acceptance of her kids’ alcohol use and sexual promiscuity. (I realize this is an attitude many real-life parents hold, but it is not something I am okay with, in real life or in fiction).
I stuck with the book, drawn in by the realistic portrayal of family life and invested in what might happen with this family. And while the tone was a foreboding one, the first half had the air of a comfort read thanks to the nostalgia-evoking 2010 setting, with its lack of pervasive technology and overtly progressive themes. (Teen life seemed so much more straightforward just a handful of years ago; what a different world we live in now).
I was nowhere near prepared for what happened around the book’s midway point. I knew from the jacket copy that the novel included a tragedy; had I been aware of the type and extent of tragedy we encounter in these pages, I would have steered clear from this book. I saw the novel through to the finish, and was blown away by Quindelin’s poignant portrayal of grief and her insight into what it is like to move forward in the midst of a living nightmare. We are given small glimmers of hope, yet I remained anxious for days after reading and know that this was an instance of right book/wrong time for me.
Despite my personal hangups, I can see how well this book was written. Quindelin captures both the everydayness of family life as well as the struggle to regain a semblance of normalcy while also navigating grief and trauma. She grapples with several tough but important themes: motherhood, and loss, and the societal pressures surrounding both; friendship and betrayal and mental illness; the ways we are strong for others, and what it looks like to fall apart; and the sad but inevitable evolution of relationships. This haunting story is one I won’t forget, even if it left me feeling uneasy. And I am definitely standing by my goal of reading more Anna Quindelin in the very near future (though I will do a bit more vetting before deciding on which title to read next).
My Rating: 4 Stars // Book Format: Kindle
A Far-Flung Life, by M.L. Stedman — Set on Meredith Downs, a vast Australian sheep station owned by the MacBride family, our story begins on an ordinary day in 1958. While traveling along a lonely road that traverses the millions of acres that is their property, Phil MacBride and his two adult sons are in a tragic crash. Phil and his oldest son are killed instantly, while younger son Matt (on the cusp of his 18th birthday) suffers a traumatic brain injury that leaves an indelible mark on his memory and his ability to cope.
But life and work must go on at Meredith Downs, and Matt and his mother Lorna must forge ahead through one tragedy after another as they wrestle with the nature and power of memory, prompting questions around the importance of truth and the corrosive effects of carrying a secret for the sake of sparing the innocent. The MacBrides’ story, which spans decades, is one of resilience, sacrifice, the caustic power of secrets, the grace of forgetting, and the reverberating effects of seemingly inconsequential choices. And their story is echoed and mirrored in the lives of the side characters whose stories could each carry novels in themselves. (How I loved the unforgettable characters of Pete Peachy, the former POW who hunts kangaroos, and Andy MacBride, a truly special boy enduring a complicated childhood.)
On a literary level, this is probably the most beautifully written book I have read all year, maybe in the last couple of years. Stedman’s luminous prose brilliantly captures the harsh, remote landscape of Western Australia with a vastness that offers a stark counterpoint to the intimacy of the enduring MacBride family. And there is SO MUCH to think about here: the themes are layered, the characters are nuanced, and the human condition is captured and examined in ways that literally left me breathless. I was on a beach vacation with extended family when I read this, and at one point in my reading I was so overcome by the beauty of a particular passage (about a grandfather clock, of all things) that I gathered the other adults around my beach blanket to listen as I read aloud.
That said, there were a few times in the book that I nearly considered DNFing. The primary story—including a massive (shocking) plot point on which the rest of the novel turns—is incredibly . . . unsavory. . . and that huge twist was something I struggled to get over. (Which is exactly the point—the characters are not able to get over this issue either—but that didn’t make the reading any easier for me.) I also found the middle third to be very slow; the page count exceeds 400 pages, and I feel the story would have benefited from a hundred-page edit. But I am so glad I saw it through to the ending, where I was rewarded with one of the best conclusions I’ve read in a long time. By the final pages, I found myself unable to give this anything less than five stars and it has almost certainly landed a spot on my Top 10 for the year.
For all of its shortfalls and massive content considerations, A Far-Flung Life is a moving novel, with an unforgettable setting and characters who are flawed yet believable and inspiring. It’s definitely a book that will stick with me. I would love to see this made into a movie.
My Rating: 5 Stars // Book Format: Kindle
NONFICTION
Write a Must-Read: Craft a Book That Changes Lives–Including Your Own, by A. J. Harper — Years before I had children of my own, I loved listening to parenting podcasts and reading parenting books. This was partly because I knew I would one day be a mother and wanted to “study up” ahead of time; but there is also something in me that loves to deep-dive into topics that are totally irrelevant to me. I’ve also been known to geek out over business books (though I’ve never held a corporate job, nor would I want one) and read about nomads (something else that is not in my future). All of that is to say that I am not the target audience for this book that was written for writers looking to write a highly specific self-help book; I may one day decide to write a book of that type, but penning a book is nowhere on my radar right now. . . and still, I love reading books about the craft of writing and thought this one sounded interesting. And I was right!
A.J Harper is a ghostwriter and editor for prominent thought leaders, and she uses her own writing experience and her years of coaching other authors to offer practical and powerful advice for aspiring writers. Harper’s primary message is that the best books come from writers who put their readers’ needs first at every stage of development, from concept to writing to marketing and everything in between. And she models that message in this reader-centric book.
Harper begins by helping writers decide on a game-changing core message. She then moves through the stages of outlining, drafting, and editing before offering her insights into the publishing world. At each step she offers methods, frameworks, and strategies for creating the reader connection that results in bestsellers. I loved the tutorial’s meta nature, with Harper modeling these concept in the self-help book she is writing; but this isn’t a memoir, and Harper also includes examples from her many writing clients. Harper clearly wants her readers to succeed: she doesn’t hold back on helping readers know what will work and what won’t, and her writing style is encouraging but not coddling or pedantic.
If I ever do choose to write a book of my own, I will absolutely be returning to this one for guidance. Until then, I had some valuable takeaways that I can implement in my blog writing. And, putting on my reader hat, I will be noticing how these concepts do (or don’t) play out in the material I consume.
My Rating: 4 Stars // Book Format: Audiobook
Communion: Finding My Way Back to Faith, by J. D. Vance — J.D. Vance’s beloved grandmother was his stabling force amidst a chaotic upbringing. She was also his connection to Christianity, bringing him to church and teaching him about God, and with her death came the death of his own faith that had never become internalized. His deployment to Iraq and subsequent time in college pulled him further away from the faith of his youth, but he remained spiritually curious. Following his marriage to the love of his life and the birth of his first child, Vance found himself reconnecting with God—this time through the Catholic Church.
In Communion, Vice President Vance candidly shares about his walk away from faith, his slow and cautious return, and the way that his rediscovery of Christianity has informed his current politics as well as his approach to life and family and public scrutiny. Through his journey he shares the transformative power of the Gospel, both at a personal level and potentially at the level of policy.
This is not an easy subject matter for a practicing politician: Vance takes strong stances on topics that are certain to offend large swaths of his readership. As a non-Catholic, I was not totally on board with aspects of his theology, and though we share Conservative political views, I do not align with every one of his political stances (especially his socialist-leaning economic ideas, although I will say that he gave me a lot to consider on that front). Vance does a remarkable job of transparently sharing his own views without maligning the “other side”—whether that “other” is in politics, or faith, or socio-economic status, or race. And while Vance is very diplomatic in his delivery, he manages to come across as completely genuine; his Christian transformation appears to be a sincere one, and I admire his willingness to detail the ways that his faith informs his current policy, even when those ideas are not in lock-step with his political party.
J.D. Vance is a polarizing figure—in his own right, and especially because of his proximity to our controversial president—and I have no doubt that his detractors will find plenty to disparage in this memoir. Personally, I found Vance’s story inspiring. I was impressed by his intellectual and spiritual depth and his ability to convey his story with such honesty and tact, and I couldn’t help but admire his profound love for his wife and his earnest desire to be a good father to his kids. I am grateful for the committed faith and integrity that he brings to our contemporary political scene, especially the ways that he has brought faith and family into the political spotlight. And I am glad that he has gifted his fellow Americans with this thoughtful book.
My Rating: 4 Stars // Book Format: Audiobook
MIDDLE-GRADE READ-ALOUD
On the Shores of Silver Lake, by Laura Ingalls Wilder — [Review written by my 11-year-old, Charleston, with contributions from the rest of the family.]
Most of us have moved once or twice, but you might find that the Ingalls family has set a record as you read about their fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh moves (by our rough estimates) to new lands, new houses, and new adventures in this fifth book of the Little House series. Marvel as they watch from a surveyor’s house as a town springs up around them over night. But first, experience with them what it’s like to live within a noisy railroad camp, and follow along as Laura learns to “see” (i.e., describe) for Mary, who has gone blind. Hold your breath in suspense as you read stories of Pa attempting to purchase a homestead before a rush on the land; of baby Grace disappearing into the endless fields; and of the family waking up to piles of snow in their own house.
I, Charleston, felt like this one was a little too short (especially after reading the never-ending Johnny Tremain), but I enjoyed all moments of the story and felt no gaps of boredom in the ongoing adventure. I liked watching the characters utilize their resources as they make a fortune out of spontaneously turning their home into an inn for future homesteaders.
Kali wondered a lot in the beginning how it would all turn out. She liked how they asked their mom and dad if they could do things themselves and she liked how it made you wonder a lot about that time. Her favorite part was when they got candy on the train.
Sully gave this one four stars and really liked how the family was happy and didn’t complain on their moves.
Two-year-old Nico wanted to add his thoughts. He says, “they go on a walk, then house! One, two, three, four stars! And the moon!” Translation: he liked this one quite a bit as well.
Kendra’s take: this is my least favorite book of the series, as it feels more transitional than the others. I still like it a lot, but as a read-aloud, the many songs grew tedious to read/sing (this was a very music-heavy book!). Watching Laura do so much growing up in one book felt sad, even though the transition is handled well, with the passing of dog Jack distinctly marking Laura’s passage from child to preteen. We noticed more descriptive passages in this book, mirroring Laura’s learning how to visualize scenes for Mary, and it was interesting to think about how Laura’s practice of “seeing” for Mary played into her writing career.
Mom’s Rating: 4 Stars // Kalinda’s Rating: 5 Stars // Sullivan’s Rating: 4 Stars // Charleston’s Rating: 4 Stars // Book Format: Print
Have you read any of these titles? What did you think? What are YOU reading lately?
