STACKED

books

Audiosynced: A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson

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I’m not a big nonfiction reader.  I like it in theory, and I often bring stacks of interesting nonfiction titles home with the intention of reading them all, but I’m usually distracted by the latest dystopia or mystery or romance and then the nonfiction books are overdue and I need to return them to the library.
That’s why I’m especially glad I brought home Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything on audio.  This is most likely a book that would have languished in my “to read” pile if I had checked out the print version, but the audio proved a delightful way to keep myself entertained on a road trip I took earlier this month.
The basic concept of the book is this: Bill Bryson describes how the universe, and everything in it, came to be.  This is a pretty tall order, but it’s precisely because he covers so much in so little space that he manages to keep the lay reader (or listener) interested.  He covers the big bang, evolution, plate tectonics, ice ages, and volcanoes, among a dozen other subjects.  He also talks a lot about the people behind the major discoveries and includes a few funny stories that show just how odd (or just plain human, really) scientists can be.  The book is never dry or boring, but it also doesn’t give the reader a full picture on any one subject.  It’s a fascinating look at science for non-scientists.
One of the greatest joys of the audiobook experience was Bryson’s narration. The book is full of humor, and Bryson’s voice lets that shine through.  He speaks deliberately and with a very slight English accent (I may be imagining this, since I know he is American but spends a lot of time in England) that adds interest to the listening.  He also occasionally refers to himself in the text, which makes the fact that he’s narrating all the more real.  I also really appreciated that the book was tailored to the listener, not the reader.  By this I mean that whenever the text read “If you’re reading this,” it was changed to “If you’re listening to this.”  It’s a nice touch that iced the experience for me.
I should mention that I listened to the abridged version, which I normally try to avoid at all costs.  Abridgements are the bane of my audiobook existence and I’m baffled as to why they exist in the first place.  I think this book suffers from the abridgement.  The unabridged version is short in the first place, but abridged it’s simply too short (only five discs!).  Bryson skips from one topic to another with almost no transition in many places, and I needed more elaboration at certain points to really satisfy my curiosity.  Perhaps, though, that’s also a success of the book: it left me wanting more and feeling even more curious about the world in which we live.

Attachments by Rainbow Rowell

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Lincoln didn’t know what he was getting into when he responded to an ad for the local newspaper The Courier, which needed an Internet Security Officer. Yes, it was the night shift, but at least the job was full-time, with a good salary and benefits. And maybe it would finally give him some purpose while he figured out exactly what to do with his life: after all, he is in his twenties and has been a professional student since his horrible, traumatic breakup with his high school and college girlfriend, and he still lives at home with his mother (a fact that he himself doesn’t mind, as she leaves him alone and cooks practically gourmet meals for him. But his sister Eve keeps nagging him to leave the nest, and maybe he does need a good kick in the butt).

But the job is definitely nothing like Lincoln expected…for one thing, there is literally nothing to do, no responsibilities except monitoring and reading emails flagged for ‘objectionable content.’ While Lincoln can’t help but feel vaguely guilty at this intrusion into others’ lives, he is simultaneously drawn into the lives of Jennifer and Beth, two bubbly best friends whose emails often find their way into his inbox. As they talk about their relationships (Jennifer is married, and she and her husband are trying to figure out when to have a baby, while Beth is in a long-term relationship with Chris, a rocker who can’t truly commit), Beth and Jennifer become more than just email addresses on a computer screen to Lincoln. They become real, true, vulnerable human beings. And he can’t help himself from falling for Beth.

Attachments was an absolutely adorable read, the perfect book to break me from a recent slump of ‘meh’ books. The format enabled this book to be a quick read, as Jennifer and Beth’s side of the story is told solely through emails, and Lincoln’s in short chapters of prose. Yet despite the brevity, Rowell truly excels at creating deep, well-rounded characters. Even through short snippets of email, the reader is able to feel Jennifer’s excitement and grief over the developments of her marriage, and can empathize with Beth’s immense frustration over Chris’ flightiness. Lincoln is just plain adorable, a hulk of a man whose sensitivity, fear, and gradual transformation are shown to us vividly over the course of Attachments.

It is this transformation that is at the heart of Attachments, more so than the engaging antics of Jennifer and Beth. Rowell truly shows rather than tells the reader how Lincoln gradually finds himself throughout this novel, as he develops a crush on Beth the ‘idea,’ then discovers who she is, then is plagued with guilt about reading her personal thoughts and doesn’t know how he can ever approach her ‘in real life.’

While there isn’t much suspense in this novel, as its sweet tone naturally assures the reader of a happy ending, the joy is in following these three characters on their journeys, both individually and collectively.

Don’t Breathe a Word by Jennifer McMahon

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Don’t Breathe a Word by Jennifer McMahon is either a straight-up thriller or a pseudo-fantasy, depending on how the reader interprets certain events.  Either way, this adult novel gave me the creeps (in a good way) and has me seeking out other books by McMahon.
Fifteen years ago, tween Lisa Nazzaro disappeared in the woods behind her home.  Before she disappeared, she told her brother Sam and her cousin Evie that she was going to meet the King of the Fairies, who would take her to the Land of the Fairies and make her his Queen.  Lisa was never found, and her disappearance is still shrouded in mystery.
In present day we meet Phoebe, a woman who has managed to dig herself out of an unpleasant past and make a life for herself with Sam.  Sam doesn’t speak much of his sister who disappeared a decade and a half ago.  One day, Phoebe receives a phone call from a young girl, and the girl tells Phoebe that Lisa has returned from the Land of the Fairies and they should meet her in the forest in a few days. 
From then on, things get super creepy.  Phoebe and Sam reunite with Evie and her husband in order to determine what to do.  Evie has something to share that will shed more light on the mystery of Lisa’s disappearance, but before much can be determined, an old woman shows up at the house where they’re staying, stabs Evie with a corkscrew, and takes off running.  Phoebe and Sam give chase, and things get even creepier after that.  
Phoebe has had nightmares – or visions, really – since she was a little girl about a dark man who hides in the shadows, in doorways, and underneath her bed.  Her drunk mother sometimes explained it away as a dream, and sometimes acknowledged that the dark man was there, letting on that she, too, had seen him on occasion.  Is this dark man the King of the Fairies who stole Lisa away all those years ago?  You’ll wonder up until the very end, and even after you turn the last page you’ll still wonder.
The book flits back and forth between the past and present, alternating between Phoebe and Sam’s current investigation into Lisa’s disappearance and the summer fifteen years ago when Lisa disappeared.  The present-time entries are told mostly from Phoebe’s perspective, and the past-time entries from Lisa’s.  This method works so perfectly, because it allows the reader to piece things together bit by bit, slowly coming to a full understanding of what really happened the night Lisa disappeared.  Or as full of an understanding as you can get.
I loved so many things about this book.  For one thing, it’s got such a twisty plot.  Just when I thought things were settling down into a more normal clue-searching, calm sort of mystery, McMahon threw something creepy at me.  She’s got a way of writing that makes you want to check underneath your own bed to make sure there isn’t a trap door there from where the evil King of the Fairies can emerge and snatch you away. 
I’ve probably used the word creepy about a dozen times in this review, but it’s really the most accurate term.  To be honest, I’ve kind of creeped myself out just by summarizing the plot here, and the odd noises my refrigerator is making don’t help.  Don’t Breathe a Word is a real page-turner that manages to tie up all loose ends – giving the reader awful but rational answers – but still leave you with shivers and a decision to make at the end.
That decision you make, it’s a big one.  What I loved most about the book is how it toed the line between realism and fantasy.  When you read the last few pages, after you think everything’s been answered satisfactorily and comfortably explained away and there couldn’t possibly be anything more to say, McMahon shows you that she does have more to say.  How do you interpret it?  Are there malevolent fairies, or are they just a figment of a girl’s imagination, of her need to explain away the terrible things that happened to her?  It could really go either way, and I love it.
Speaking of creepy, McMahon’s book covers all seem to have a theme: creepy girl with big eyes staring at you.  (You can see a collection of them on one page at the author’s Goodreads page.)  The effect works very well with Don’t Breathe a Word, and I think it’s interesting that it’s a trend for her books.  It’s actually one of the reasons I’ve decided to seek out McMahon’s other books – I want a similar read to this one, and the similarity of the covers indicates she’s written more in this vein.
This is just the kind of adult book (or book in general, really) that I like to read: a plot that keeps me guessing, writing that flows well and doesn’t jar me out of the story with unnecessary flourishes, compelling characters with mysterious, sometimes lurid, pasts.  It got my heart rate up for sure, and I dug every moment.
Copy provided by the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion.  Don’t Breathe a Word is on sale May 17.

Castle Waiting by Linda Medley

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I first read Linda Medley’s Castle Waiting graphic novel as part of an assignment in library school.  It was the very first graphic novel/comic I had read in years (the last one before that was probably an issue of Casper when I wasn’t even double digits).  I wasn’t averse to reading graphic novels, and I had long embraced the notion of having them in public libraries as practical and necessary, I just hadn’t ever bothered to go find one I thought I would like.
I’m glad I chose Castle Waiting as my gateway drug.  It has a lot of elements I really enjoy in a novel: fairy tales reworked in new and interesting ways, a strong female protagonist, humor, feminist themes, and some nice surprises in the plot.  I revisited the book this week and was pleased to discover that I enjoyed it just as much the second time around.
Castle Waiting opens with what seems to be a fairly straightforward re-telling of Rapunzel.  Near the end, it morphs into something different (there’s a particularly funny set of wordless panels at this point), and we see that it’s the origin story for the place known as “Castle Waiting,” which has become a refuge for the weary and the imperiled.  As one of the characters tells our protagonist later on, the castle provides sanctuary for those who need to live in safety or die in safety.  When you consider the fact that the setting is a fairy tale world, it becomes easy to see how this story is a feminist one.
After the origin story, we’re introduced to our protagonist, lovely young Jain, who’s pregnant and on the run from her husband (not necessarily the father of her child).  She’s been told by her own father about Castle Waiting and its sanctuary, so she makes her way there.  Once there, she’s welcomed by its inhabitants, a diverse array of characters which Medley has plundered from the pages of nursery rhymes, legends, and fairy tales.
The second half of the book involves a group of bearded nuns.  That’s awesome enough in itself.  I don’t think this story is as strong as the one featuring Jain, but it’s amusing and interesting nonetheless.
The emphasis in Castle Waiting is not on sword and sorcery, and there’s not a great deal of action.  Instead, Medley focuses completely on the characters, giving us vignettes without major climaxes that allow us to really get to know everyone.  By the end of the book, they’ve become friends, and we wish we could visit for a weekend.  There’s nothing pulse-pounding about this comic, and sometimes that’s exactly what people need.
All of the female characters (and the male ones) are independent and interesting.  They’ve all got their own back stories and their own little quirks.  A few of the characters are particularly funny, cracking jokes and seeing humor in everyday activities.  While the characters’ lives weren’t necessarily rosy, they’ve all found a home at Castle Waiting, and the tone of the book reflects that sense of community.         
Medley’s art is all black and white, which I normally avoid (I prefer full-color), but it works here.  Her linework is very detailed and helps give the story its sense of fun.  The humor in the story comes not only from the dialogue between the characters, but in the reactions seen in facial expressions and body language.
Castle Waiting is basically a fairy tale (or rather, a series of fairy tale-esque stories) told with a feminist bent.  It has similarities with Bill Willingham’s Fables in that they both re-work traditional stories for a new audience and both center around a community of diverse characters who have found sanctuary with each other, but Castle Waiting is much different in tone.  Whereas Fables is most definitely for an adult or mature teen audience (lots of violence and sex), Castle Waiting is more child-friendly.  Its tone is a bit gentler and it doesn’t have any of the content parents tend to object to: bad language, nudity, violence.  That said, I think Castle Waiting is best appreciated by older teens and adults due to its themes, which younger readers may miss or simply not find interesting.
I first read Castle Waiting in individual volumes, but I got my hands on the compilation for the re-read (so the origin story, Jain’s story, and the bearded nuns story were all together).  Wow this book is beautiful. The spine has a cloth-type covering and it comes with a built-in ribbon bookmark.  It’s kind of ridiculous how much I love these ribbon bookmarks.  The cover, the only part of the book in color, shows the characters the reader meets within the book’s pages, and even the horse’s personality is evident.
This review covers only Castle Waiting Volume I, but Volume II is out now, and it’s sitting on my table ready to be read.  I’m definitely looking forward to it.

What I’ve Been Reading and Listening to, Twitter-Style

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Some mini-reviews, Twitter-style, of what I’ve been reading and listening to lately!


My Life, the Theater, and Other Tragedies by Allen Zadoff
In Adam’s high school, the theater department is split right down the middle: the arrogant actors on one side, the nerdy techies on the other. But when Adam, a techie with a love for lights, falls for Summer, a new actress, he is torn between his friends and his heart. A quick read that falls a bit short of Zadoff’s debut, Food, Girls, and Other Things I Can’t Have, this book is nevertheless a wonderful depiction of a teen boy: his insecurities, fears, struggles, and aspirations.

Bossypants by Tina Fey
A compilation of Tina Fey’s musings on balancing career and motherhood, being a boss, comedy, and being a woman, this book was absolutely hilarious. Fey’s true voice shone through, and her anecdotes were laugh out loud. Her comparisons of being a little bit skinny and a little bit fat were especially amusing–this woman is a great observer of society.

Charles and Emma: The Darwin’s Leap of Faith by Deborah Heiligman
A charming audiobook covering the courtship and marriage of Charles Darwin and his wife, Emma, who clashed in their beliefs regarding natural selection and faith. Impeccably researched, Heiligman masterfully weaves together pertinent facts, quotations, and amusing anecdotes into a seamless narrative. Narrator Rosalyn Landor’s British accent is perfect for this production.


13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson
I finally picked this up after hearing so much hype over the upcoming release of The Last Little Blue Envelope. Following Ginny on her quest throughout Europe as she opens up her aunt’s succession of notes to her is a blast, and Maureen Johnson’s writing is engaging and amusing. The cast of supporting characters is well-fleshed out and three-dimensional, and Ginny’s emotions are true-to-life. I started listening to this on audio during my commute and had to bring the print copy home on Friday so I wouldn’t have to wait until the next week to finish it up!