August 2022: Dog days

See this guy? His name is Tarzan, and he knows what he likes. He adores 1 person (my mom), loves 4 more (me and my peeps), and intermittently likes a handful of other humans. He enjoys squeaky toys, comfy beds, and balls of any sort. After being rescued from a desperately terrible situation at the age of 9, he’s landed very much jelly-side-up for the last 4 years after being adopted by my mom. If you’d like to support the rescue that rehabbed him and found him such a perfect home, please visit Boston Terrier Rescue Canada. I spent a good chunk of August with Tarzan while my mom travelled. He’s excellent company who is quite happy to cuddle beside a person reading a good book. Here are the books we read together.

The Book of Life by Deborah Harkness. This is the third book in the series that starts with “A Discovery of Witches,“ and wow, did the wheels fall off in this one. Honesty, I almost gave up on it halfway through but for some reason I forged on. The main character has gone from an interesting work-in-progress to a complete jackhole with absolutely no accountability for her actions. The author seems quite enamored of her creation, but I for one fell out of love very early in this novel. Tarzan kept asking why I would spend my time on something that was clearly irritating me to no end. He’s a smart guy.

One Fatal Flaw by Anne Perry. This book seemed to take forever to read. It was fiiiine.

Gourmet Rhapsody by Muriel Barbery and Alison Anderson. I was charmed by this slim novel that tracks the thoughts and feelings of a dying food critic as he tries to recapture his one perfect food memory. Tarzan likes food stories.

State of Terror by Louise Penny and Hilary Rodham Clinton. A highly enjoyable thriller that tracks a fictional Secretary of State in the early first days after her appointment as she tries frantically to stop a master terrorist, who has hidden ties in the US Deep State. At the same time as a heck of a good rip, it’s a love note to lifelong female friendships. Having previously read a collab between Bill Clinton and James Patterson, I was particularly interested to dig into this novel. The similarities? Great reads with an insider perspective on the inner workings of power. Also, both main characters were widowed, which got a chuckle out of me. The differences? This novel tells both a bigger story and a more intimate one than “The President is Missing” and the main character is more nuanced, less genre-hero.

The Madness of Crowds by Louise Penny. In this latest Gamache novel, Three Pines wasn’t safe from the pandemic, but at least their vaccine actually made the Covid-19 virus go away - poof! Definite wish fulfillment on the author’s behalf, but who can blame her? It’s not all sunshine and rainbows though as a statistician comes to town peddling her conviction that she has crunched the pandemic data and come up with a rationale for forced euthanasia and eugenics. Horrifying stuff. Another outsider in town is a potential Nobel Peace Prize winner from Sudan who has survived unspeakable horrors. As the New Year rings in, someone winds up dead. It’s a good read, as always.

July 2022: Starting to thaw, finally

When I publish my list of reads each month (okay, I know it hasn’t always been monthly, but go with me on this), I’m often going back through my list of library and Kobo downloads and looking on my night table to actually build the list. I suppose I should build the list and my mini-reviews as I go, but it’s interesting to see what sticks with me even just a few weeks after reading.

Sometimes I remember plots, characters, specific moments, and even passages or turns of phrases quite vividly even months later, and sometimes I need to need the book blurb to open up my memory of the book. Once in a while even with that prompt, I come up with a near blank. To some extent, my memory depends on how much my brain was juggling while I was reading, sure, but the vividness with which I remember provides a great indicator of how engaged my imagination was by the book. Though in absolutely fairness, sometimes I vividly remember a book for how it irritated me… so I guess memorability is not the best way to assess the pleasure a book provides. Ah well, on to July’s pages.  

 The Retreat by Elisabeth de Mariaf. This novel is a well-written psychological thriller crossed with a dumb-dumb horror movie where there is no earthly reason for any of the characters to go out in the woods or down to the basement or wherever but they do and they die because if they didn’t, there would be no story. This is that.

Little Lost Secrets by Cheryl Bradshaw. This novel is the second in the series, and I think I may have enjoyed it more if I read the first beforehand. The main character has a tragic backstory that I suspect was explored in the first installment, and it likely would have allowed me to be more immersed in her world and understand her motivations. Or perhaps I’m giving too much thought? Anyway, it was fine.

The Mystery of Mrs. Christie by Marie Benedict. Renowned mystery writer Agatha Christie really did go missing for 11 days in 1926. What really happened during that time has never been fully uncovered. This novel is the fictional exploration of what might have happened, and it is excellent.

Big Little Lies by Lianne Moriarty. Such a good read. I watched the HBO series based on this novel a few years ago, and its excellent cast influenced the way I pictured the characters as I read the book. As usual between page and screen, the stories are not identical, but they are very close. I’m confident if you enjoy the series, you’ll love the book and vice versa. I did!

Human Face by Aline Templeton. This is the first in the series in which Devil’s Garden (reviewed last most) occurs later. I suppose I should make more effort to read serial novels in order, but both of these stand on their own quite nicely.

The Bomber Mafia by Malcolm Gladwell. As with many of Gladwell’s books, this one taught me a great deal about a topic I hadn’t previously paid much attention to. He has such a gift of contagious curiosity. In this case, he’s discussing the early visionaries around using airplanes in combat for precision bombing––and as always, he’s looking at it from multiple angles and a wider cultural, historical, and ethical lens. I’m not usually attracted to learning about war or weaponry, but I found this book to be fascinating.  

305 Lost Buildings of Canada by Raymond Biesinger. Grabbed this book on a whim as well because it’s definitely outside of my usual wheelhouse. Organized by province, this book offers elegant illustrations and conversational descriptions of interesting bygone buildings in cities across Canada. There is no uniting rhyme or reason that I could discern as to why a building would be included or not, other than the author thinking, “hey, this one is interesting!,” and that is part of the book’s charm.   

The Case of the Tangled Maypole by Anna Castle.

The Case of the Miscast Curse by Anna Castle. This and the listing above are second and third in a series that I began a couple of months ago, so yay! I actually do read things in order sometimes. I am really enjoying this series, which stars a “cunning woman” (healer) in the sixteenth century who gets called upon in her village to figure out mysteries.

A Lethal Lesson by Iona Whishaw. Another in a series about a female former WWII English spy who has now settled in British Columbia who keeps stumbling upon dead bodies and other mysteries to solve. Clearly, very much in my usual wheelhouse.

On the Pod:

One podcast I follow that I haven’t mentioned before is Sawbones: A Marital Tour of Misguided Medicine. Physician Dr. Sydnee McElroy and her husband Justin McElroy discuss both current and historical medical issues from Monkeypox (the latest episode I listened to) to the Green Children of Woolpit to, of course, Covid in several episodes. Down-to-earth expert Sydnee and Justin as the smart-but-goofy, layman questioner deliver a highly entertaining and highly informative show – plus I love their theme song, Medicines by The Taxpayers.

April, May, June, 2022 – Spring sprung then sprinted past

As April rolled to a close I was in England, enjoying time with my brother who lives in London and touristing up a storm with my daughter. A fine end to her first year in university, involving seeing the pillages of the empire, precious manuscripts, the dim interiors of several many pubs, shops in SoHo and street markets, and the fabulous west end production of Moulin Rouge. Absolutely lovely.   

As to my excuse is for being late with May and June – a general sense of malaise, I guess? Not depression, I don’t think, but more a several-weeks-long attack of just not being arsed to do anything beyond the minimum. Knitting and reading books are included in the minimum, but posting about these activities doesn’t make the cut. I should probably also mention that I’ve been watching a lot, like a lot a lot, of Rupaul’s Drag Race, and it’s definitely creeping into my idiolect. But now, I’m back back back again! (There it is.)

On to the books:

Music is History by Questlove. Starting with the year of his birth, 1971, musician and DJ Questlove recounts what was happening in music and culture and current events, and how those three flowing rivers intersect with his life. He includes an installment per year from 1971 to 2000, then every few years up to 2020, mid-pandemic. His conversational style is super engaging, and his nerdy obsession with the details of music is contagious. I strongly recommend reading accompanied by one of the Music is History playlists on Spotify (unless you have a much, much deeper musical knowledge and memory than me… like, say, Questlove).  

Who is Maud Dixon? by Alexandra Andrews. An excellent mystery, perfect for vacation reading.

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn. Creeeeepy. I thought I had it figured out but I did not. Shudder.

Curious, If True by Elizabeth Gaskell. I noticed a memorial to Elizabeth Gaskell in Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey and realized I knew nothing about her. So I looked her up, and it led me to the collaborative short novel below as well as this collection of five spooky stories. Dated, but very enjoyable. I think Susanna Clarke, the author of the wonderful Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, must be a big fan of Elizabeth Gaskell because the similarities in style and storytelling seem unmistakable to me.  

A House to Let by Wilkie Collins, Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Adelaide Anne Procter. In this novella, each of these four Victorian heavy-hitters contribute a chapter. The premise is that an elderly lady notices activity at a house on her street that is supposedly abandoned. Her servant and a long-time admirer compete to find out what is happening. Quite charming.

The Postscript Murders by Elly Griffiths. Entirely charming with greater variety of characters and far less formula than a typical cozy.

The Whispered Word by Ellery Adams. I think I may have read this before. I was having a lot of deja vu while reading. But I can’t quite remember for sure. So what does that tell you about this book?

Misery Loves Maggody by Joan Hess. This author dependably delivers thoroughly enjoyable and non-challenging reads.    

Strange Things Done by Elle Wild. I had high hopes for this novel, with its title evoking Robert Service and his delightfully grisly “Cremation of Sam McGee.” It also takes place in the Yukon, but that’s about it for payoff of the title. It was fine. Just fine.

 Penne Dreadful by Catherine Bruns. Replete with cozy cliches but not in the good way. I almost didn’t continue reading after the first several pages. My ultimate persistence didn’t much reward me.

 Death by Cashmere by Sally Goldenbaum. A yarn shop-focused cozy mystery in a series I always enjoy.  

 An Image in the Lake by Gail Bowen. It’s been a while since I read any of the books in this series. This installment takes place a number years after the others I’ve read. The books are set in Saskatchewan and populated by truly believable characters and institutions that are obvious analogues to the real-life NDP and CBC. Each installment brings forward a new mystery but with continuity, drawing from a large collection of established characters and building on their back stories in coherent ways.

 Antiques Con by Barbara Allen. I’ve read several books by this author before, and this won’t be the last.

Dead and Breakfast by Kate Kingsbury. Many of the conventional cliches are in place as you would expect from the punny title. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ll enjoy it. I did.

The Case of the Spotted Tailor by Anna Castle. A smart cozy set in medieval England. Really very enjoyable.

Shadow of Night by Deborah Harkness. The second in a series about a witch and her vampire husband, this one takes place in 16th Century England where they’ve time-walked to escape the problems of the present. I dig this series, and I’m spacing the books out so I don’t burn out on them.

Dead Dead Girls by Nikesa Afia. The setting of Prohibition-era Harlem and the main character –a self-reliant young, lesbian, Black woman who sets out to find the serial killer who is stalking her peers  – make this novel well worth reading. A lot of research must have gone in to making it all so believable, but at the same time, the story feels very natural. It’s the first in a series, and I’ll be coming back for more.

A Crime of a Different Stripe by Sally Goldenbaum. Same series as Death by Cashmere (above) but about five or years later in the lives of the characters. Tiny little seaside town plagued by a whole lot of murder!  

An Untidy Death by Simon Brett. Another cozy and the perfect speed for where I was at.

Devil’s Garden by Aline Templeton. A most enjoyable mystery set in the Borders region of Scotland.

Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight by Janet Evanovich. I’m always going to enjoy Stephanie Plum, even if she’s now mostly settled down with Joe Morelli.  

March 2022: Time marches on

Without any ado, the books of March.

Ragged Company by Richard Wagamese. You may have inferred that I generally am a fast reader. This book took nice chunk of time to finish. It straddled the last week of February into the beginning of March. It’s a big thinky book, yes, but also I didn’t want to rush. I even found myself covering the page below the paragraph I was on with my hand, so I would really focus on the sentences in front of me and not rush through to find out what happens. It’s so pleasurable when a beautifully written story is also just one heck of a story. What a treasure.

Unspeakable Acts: True Tales of Crime, Murder, Deceit, and Obsession by Sarah Weinman. Non-fiction for a change, this is a collection of previously published articles about true crime. Reading these articles together through the lens of the editor’s introduction provides a wide-ranging survey of the modern true-crime writing genre – one that’s both appreciation and critique.

A Killer in King’s Cove by Iona Whishaw. This above-par cosy mystery follows a former WWII British intelligence officer as she starts a new life for herself in the middle of British Columbia. It hit the spot just right – so much so that I immediately bought and read the sequel once I finished this one.

Death in a Darkening Mist by Iona Whishaw. The sequel was just as enjoyable.

Murder on the Red River by Marcie R. Rendon. Set in 1970s North Dakota where racism and casual discrimination is part of the environment, this novel follows the smart, tough main character, Cash Blackbear, and her one real friend, the local Sheriff, as they work to solve the murder of a native man. I want to read more of these two characters.

Beachfront Bakery: A Killer Cupcake by Fiona Grace. A competently written terribly unoriginal book. It’s not good, but at least the grammar was fine.

Tempting Taste by Sara Whitney. Good unchallenging sexy fun.

Palm Beach, Finland by Antti Tuomainen. Not your typical Nordic noir mystery, that’s for sure. Oh, it’s noir alright, but also campy comedy. It’s a change of pace from the last novel you read – no matter what that last novel happened to be!

February 2022: Stories to keep us going

There’s just a lot right now in the world. I’m generally feeling fairly whelmed – just at the edge of being over, but so far holding steady. I’ve given myself permission in the last few weeks to just sort of skim across the top of the news. Hermione hits the stacks to get more information. I’ve been diving deeper into the pages to escape from too much. And yes, I know I am incredibly lucky to be able to do so. On to a fantastic month of books…

The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris. The person watching a horror movie from between their fingers as their hands are trying to mostly but not quite block their view? That was me reading this book. I didn’t want to turn the page, but I needed to turn the page. The book jacket calls it a “thriller” with “sly social commentary” – but I don’t know, blurb writer. Though it has thriller elements, I would say it’s a really smart, really self-aware horror. And there’s little “sly” about the social commentary; it seemed overt for the most part. In fairness though, I’m pretty sure I missed a lot between the lines and was probably a couple of beats behind in catching on compared to where a WOC would be. A heck of a gripping read, and I will definitely pick up this author again.

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. Fuuuun - and sexy as hell! The main protagonist is a beautiful, incredibly smart, successful professional woman, who would very much like to find Mr. Right. However, as an autistic woman, she struggles with some of the social norms and niceties that generally help grease the wheels early in a relationship. Her purposeful and analytical approach to problem solving in other areas of her life leads her to connect with an escort service to gain some no-strings-attached boyfriend experience. Anyway, that’s the set up, and it leads to a sweet, lovely rom-com of a novel.

The Desecration of All Saints by Alan Lee. Definitely not literature, and I had a number of nits to pick with the plot and storyline. (The main character basically says that if there’s no violence as a prelude, unwanted sex can’t be rape, and that belief just sits there through the story, undiscussed and unchallenged. Like a gun introduced in the first act that never goes off.) Nevertheless, a fast, entertaining read, and I get a kick out of the main character’s implausibly vast vocabulary.

Where the Grass Is Green and the Girls Are Pretty: A Novel by Lauren Weisberger. If you get an earworm from the title, it won’t surprise you that much of this book takes place in a small city called Paradise. It’s the hometown of television host and “America’s sweetheart” Peyton, and her sister, Skye. No, Axl and crew do not appear and, yes, it is a zippy read where nobody’s surface-perfect life quite suits them. It would be fab for a beach vacation, but it was also a lovely treat in gloomy February.

The Last Bookshop in London: A Novel of World War II by Madeline Martin. This novel takes place during the Blitz in London, and I felt like I was there (but also safe and secure). Grace Bennett is the embodiment of “keep calm and carry on” – and also a truly dimensional character – as she works days in a bookshop and spends long nights as an ARP warden patrolling the streets, trying to maintain the blackout and shepherding people into shelter. As she falls in love with reading, she also discovers the power of stories to build and strengthen community in terrible times. Oh my heart. Yes, I did cry at multiple points in this novel.

Carnegie’s Maid by Marie Benedict. As I’m watching the HBO series The Gilded Age right now, I felt like this novel was giving me a counterpoint – the view of a servant during the age of the robber barons. In this case, Clara Kelley, the maid of the title, is a penniless Irish immigrant whose role as lady’s maid to Andrew Carnegie’s mother enables her to survive in her new country and support her desperate family back home. Excellent read. (As to The Gilded Age - Four episodes in, I’m not fully enamoured yet. It looks absolutely gorgeous, but I’m not emotionally caught up in the storyline or characters.)

January 2022: Time to turn the page

Happy New Year? Hopefully this is the fresh start we – and by “we,” I mean the entire freakin’ world – so desperately need. So far for me at least the reading is good.

The Hypnotist’s Love Story by Liane Moriarty – This novel marks the first book I’ve read by Ms. Moriarty, but I’m familiar with her plots. Two TV (maybe Netflix?) series, Big Little Lies and Nine Perfect Strangers, are based on her books, and I really enjoyed them. She seems to specialize in dimensional characters whose motivations are not entirely clear - to each other or the reader. Consistent with the two series I’ve watched, this story is told from multiple perspectives. In this case, a hypnotist named Ellen and the women who stalks Ellen’s boyfriend. It’s actually the stalker who labels the plot as “the hypnotist’s love story.” Intrigued? The ending may be a trifle too neat for my tastes but I enjoyed the journey.

Find You First by Linwood Barclay – Another banger by this always-dependable author. Seriously, he never lets me down. So without giving any of the plot away, this page-turner includes a wealthy and honourable dying man, an RV inside of an apartment building (oh yeah, it ends up going for quite a ride!), a fertility clinic, an AMC Pacer, and some truly heinous villains, including a duo no doubt inspired by Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell. It kept me riveted until the very satisfying ending.

A Bone to Pick by Charlaine Harris. I read this one while I was decidedly under the weather, and it was a perfect speed for me. Number three in the Aurora Teagarden series and written in the early 90s, it’s somewhat dated but still well-written and enjoyable to read. Oh, there are cliches - small town librarian, ex-boyfriend who’s a cop - but it’s not overburdened with eye rollers.

Murder Wears Mittens by Sally Goldenbaum. Based on the cover art, the title, and that it’s part of a series called the “A Seaside Knitters Mystery,” I was expecting a standard cozy genre mystery, which, by the way, would have been fine. As you know, I have lots of heart for those especially when they promise to include a pattern. But this novel surprised me. Its cast of characters is vast and well-detailed. While the story-on-the-page centres on a few people, I got the impression the author would be able to tell me just what each and every character is doing, thinking, and saying at every moment they are “off-screen.” It made me reflect about how secondary characters in books and shows often seem to exist only when they’re interacting with the main characters. I’m surprised I haven’t read any of this series before, but I certainly will in the future.

The President is Missing by James Patterson and Bill Clinton. So those are two highly recognizable names, eh? As you might hope, Mr Patterson’s ability to to tell a fast-paced and entertaining story pairs quite effectively with President Clinton’s insider knowledge of the White House. Naturally, the president within the story is the protagonist, and the safety of the nation is in peril. Terrorists have hacked into America’s digital infrastructure and planted a virus. The clock is ticking before everything - everything: hospitals, water treatment plants, telecommunications, you name it – goes offline. The main character is more than a smidge too brave and noble to be really believable (or maybe that’s just my cynical side), but happily I was able to suspend my disbelief and very much enjoyed the novel.

For Your Own Good by Samantha Downing. A thriller that focuses mostly on the adults – teachers and parents – of a richy-rich private school. With different points of view and plenty of twists, this book was an enjoyable rip. I will happily dig into other books by this new-to-me author.

Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid. Given the number of “political” issues this book touches on, it could be read as an allegory of current race relations, or the challenges of parenting as a woman who works full-time, or an indictment of the class system in the US or or or…. And it does take on all of those issues, but it is also a heck of a good story.

The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James. Okay, so this novel took me a couple of chapters to sink into but, once I did, what a ride! I guess I’d describe it as a paranormal thriller and an old-fashioned mystery novel in one. It follows two young women in parallel storylines 35 years apart as they try to uncover the perpetrator of a series of murders in the same eerie nothing-ever-changes-here small town of Fell, New York. No surprise to me that it’s been optioned for.a potential TV series. It definitely has the makings for a new Twin Peaks or Fargo.

Unreconciled by Jesse Wente. I’ve “known” Jesse Wente for years as a frequent contributor to CBC morning radio, but beyond his voice and his on-air persona of movie and video game expert-slash-geek, I don’t think I could have articulated one other thing about him. So when I read the blurb for this book on my library app, I immediately placed a hold. A regular columnist on the CBC is de facto a voice of the Canadian establishment.

To learn that this person is at the same time navigating his identity not only as a First Nations man but also as an increasingly vocal advocate for Indigenous rights and culture - well, I needed to read what he had to tell me. He seamlessly weaves back and forth between his personal experience and the larger historic + current context, and I truly felt like I was spending time with a dear, no-BS get-a-grip friend. (Get-a-grip friend = someone who loves you enough to tell you the truth and respects you enough to expect you to deal with it.) It’s well-written and flows easily, but it wasn’t always an easy read.

As a person whose roots in Canada stretch back literally to its colonial beginnings in New France, I found some truths hard to hear. In a few places I had to force myself to go back and reread because I could feel my brain protectively disengaging with the material. So it very much hit home when Mr Wente pointed out that it’s not First Nations people who need to achieve reconciliation, it’s the settlers who need to be reconciled to the truths of Canada’s colonial history and present. He’s definitely given me much to reflect on – and act on – as I continue my learning journey.

Back half of 2021: So that happened

On the cusp of a new year, and I hope it will be a good one.. Though I’ve neglected my monthly updates, I have not stopped reading. No matter how much I feel bogged down - and there was a lot to bog one down this year - reading is my escape. I’ve heard so many people say, “I don’t know how you find time to read”; they might as well say, “I don’t know how you find time to breathe." As long as we have eyes to see, or ears to listen, or minds to imagine, we must have stories to keep us alive.

With that, I give you this long-ass list, incomplete and in no particular order, of the books I read in the balance of 2021.

Return of the Trickster by Eden Robinson

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

Murder in the Locked Library by Ellery Adams

Elevator Pitch by Linwood Barclay

An Elderly Lady is Up to No Good by Helene Tursten

Dear Girls by Ali Wong

The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

French Exit by Patrick deWitt

Beach Read by Emily Henry

Gray Hair Don’t Care by Karen Booth

An Invitation to Murder by Leighann Dobbs and Harmony Williams

Granny’s Got a Gun by Harper Lin

Still Me: A Novel by JoJo Moyes

Death by Chocolate Cherry Cheesecake by Sarah Graves

The Strangers by Katherina Vermette

Good Neighbors by Sarah Langan

We Were Never Here by Andrea Bartz

The Father of Spin by Larry Tye

The Marriage Lie by Kimberley Belle

Hana Khan Carries On by Uzma Jalaluddin

China Rich Girlfriend by Kevin Kwan

I Owe You One by Sophie Kinsella

The Happy Ever After Playlist by Abby Jimenez

Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi

June and July, 2021: Lyin’ in the sun with your radio

I really think there's nothin' quite so fine
As lettin' the sun rejuvenate your mind
Don't get me wrong, I really dig the moon
But it was four in the afternoon when I wrote this tune

Classic CanCon, lyrics from “Sunny Days” by Lighthouse in case you don’t recognize it. It makes me smile every time I hear it – which, admittedly, is more often in my mind’s soundtrack than in the real world. It’s not deep, there are no hidden meanings I can detect. It’s just pure gratitude in a moment where all is right with the world. Sums up my feelings perfectly on this beautiful early August day in my little corner. 

It’s been a hard go the last bunch of months. The pandemic has not quite run its course, but people’s patience with it has. A family of four was murdered in June in my hometown because of their religion. And across Canada, thousands of unmarked graves of kidnapped indigenous children at government-run schools are finally being found, and a long overdue recognition of our country’s genocide against the First Nations is rippling out into our collective conscious. All this has been weighing on my mind and heart through the past couple of months. 

Today, halfway through a week-long vacation, I felt the sun on my skin and just savoured it. Let it soak in and work its way through all my nerve endings. As the waves lapped and birds chirped, I was nourished by the oasis of peace. I feel grateful for all that is right amongst the ills. It’s good to reflect on the good. I also recognize the incredible luxury and privilege that I have the option to do so. 

Worth reflecting on as well are the many wonderful books I’ve lived in in the last several weeks, whether from the library (such a gift!), borrowed from friends or bought for myself. I’m a lucky, lucky human.

A Murder in Paris  by Blake Pierce. Not starting strong here. Mature lady self-discovery chick-lit meets A Year in Provence meets Murder, She Wrote – but not in a super compelling way. 

The Judas Murders by Ken Oder. Another bit of a clunker but the names in it killed me. The first two characters we meet have the last names Grundy and Mundy.  It’s fiction. The author could choose any names. There is no plot point that it serves. I mean, it just seems careless. Yes, I do get hung up on nonsense like that. 

After You by Jojo Moyes. The sequel to Me Before You and, oh, it’s lovely. I heard that there is a movie coming out; it better treat these precious characters right! 

Recipe for a Perfect Wife by Karma Brown. A NYC career woman leaves her job to write a novel and moves with her husband to suburbia. As she struggles to adjust to this life she’d never intended, she comes across the letters of the home’s former occupant – an ostensibly picture-perfect ‘50s housewife. We then follow both timelines into domestic struggles and dark suspense. Excellent.  

The Couple Next Door by Shari Lapena. Another very good suspense novel, and no – I didn’t really crack whodunnit (or why) until the big reveal. 

Small Game Hunting at the Local Coward Gun Club by Megan Gail Coles. By times, I found this novel hard to follow, requiring a couple of flip backs to keep things straight, but it was absolutely worth it.

Real Men Knit by Kwana Jackson. A delightful knitting cozy.

All the Devils Are Here by Louise Penny. The latest Armand Gamache novel by Louise Penny - as her fans will know, there’s no need to say more. 

Big Summer by Jennifer Weiner. A heckuva good vacation read. 

 Arson at the Art Gallery by Catherine Lee. The promising first instalment of a new cozy series. I’ll definitely read more as they cross my path. 

 Egg Drop Dead by Laura Childs.  Meh. An extremely formulaic cozy, pushing up against my tolerance level.  

 The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins. The prequel to the Hunger Games trilogy. I’d forgotten what a compelling storyteller Suzanne Collins is. I flew through it. 

Murder in the Locked Library by Ellery Adams. I quite enjoy this series, which has a bigger concept than most cozy mysteries. The protagonist is a “Guardian” – owner and steward of a secret, massive and priceless library of books that have survived censorship and the ages – and also runs a hotel retreat for book lovers. Naturally, murders happen, and she and her trusted team solve them. 

Trickster Drift by Eden Robinson. The follow-up to Son of a Trickster, this novel sees Jared get clean and fight to stay on track and away from all forms of supernatural. Because of who he is – and all the magic he’s surrounded by plus his mom’s violent stalker ex – he can’t avoid it forever. 

 Five Little Indians by Michelle Good – Fiction that is so painfully true, this novel should be required reading for every single non-Indigenous Canadian adult. Wrenching and beautifully written. Unforgettable. 

A Lady's Guide to Gossip and Murder by Dianne Freeman. Utterly forgettable. A good rebound novel. 

Resurrection Row by Anne Perry. Turns out, I needed two rebounds after Five Little Indians.

On the Pod:

An actual fresh podcast reco! I know, it’s exciting. I’m starting to leave my neighbourhood again. It’s wild. Anyway, I’ve been getting a huge kick out of – and learning stuff from – Sawbones: A Marital Tour of Misguided Medicine. Hosted by Dr. Sydnee McElroy and her husband, Justin, this podcast takes listeners “on a marital tour of misguided medicine as they discuss the weird, gross, and sometimes downright dangerous ways we tried to solve our medical woes through the ages.” Good stuff!

March, April, May 2021: Spring time, time for springs!

Yikes, 3 months without posting my reads. I’m going to have to do some bedside and e-reader archaeology for sure! Shall I blame the pandemic for this too? Truth is, I’ve been more interesting in reading and knitting than writing about reading and knitting. I’ve got a lot of good books to share with you this time around.

Okay, in no particular order other than memory or where they books have been stacked, here we go!

Me Before You by JoJo Mayes. Absolutely wonderful novel from start to finish. It’s a smart, unusual, and heartbreaking love story. I tore through it and, yes, I cried.

One to Watch by Kate Stayman-London. In this novel, the protagonist stars in a reality show that I might actually watch. She’s a smart, interesting style blogger who agrees to become the first plus-size “Main Squeeze” on a Bachelorette-style dating show. Actually, who am I kidding? I wouldn’t watch it, but I loved reading about it.

Monkey Beach by Eden Robinson. I picked this book to read with my book club, and it was indeed a great choice. From the first page, I became immersed in the world of the novel and its protagonist, Lisamarie, a young Haisla woman who has just learned that her brother is missing at sea. Scenes shift in time: back to childhood, forward to teenage years, back to pre-teen then all the way to present day in the story. Because Lisamarie is the narrator, we can only know what she knows or thinks she knows at each point in time. It makes for a potent mix of intuition, spirituality, guilt, innocence, wonder, and mystery. Also, sasquatches. Maybe.

The Eleventh Hour by Anina Collins. A perfectly enjoyable, not particularly memorable cozy mystery.

Lethal Bayou Beauty by Jana DeLeon. Unlike most cozies that I borrow from the library, I actually paid real money for this one. It’s the second in a series, and I enjoyed the first so much that I not only remembered it, but sought out the sequel and bought it. Wowza. I might even pony up for the next one at some point.

Honor Kills by Nanci Rathbun. Another good not-quite-cozy mystery.

Calypso by David Sedaris. If you enjoy David Sedaris, you’ll love this even more than his other memoirs. While he always talks about his childhood, his family and his partner in his books, you realize when reading this one that he’s managed to remain somehow remote, a witty observer rather than a flesh-and-blood human. Calypso contains the same cast of characters, but takes a more introspective, intimate tone.

When No One Is Watching by Alyssa Cole. A gripping novel about the experience of people who already live in the neighbourhoods that are being reclaimed or “gentrified.” In a Brooklyn neighbourhood, the predominantly Black community is being squeezed out – until one woman decides to hold on at any cost. It’s a wild ride.

How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. Continuing my learning journey. Join me, won’t you?

Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah. This author sure knows how to write a book that keeps you reading. If you can suspend your disbelief about the too-convenient premise (and I could), you’ll power through quickly to the overly pat ending. All that noted, however, I’ll happily dig into another book by Kristin Hannah.

Moriarty Meets His Match by Anna Castle. Make Sherlock’s nemesis the hero and the master detective himself sort of a tool? Yes, please! A thoroughly engaging historical mystery set in – where else? – late 1800’s London.

Blue Fire by Joel Canfield. Max Bowman is a foul-mouthed private detective with a whole boatload of personal issues, including a neurotic rescue dog that adores him but tries to attack everyone else. Bowman is hired to track down a legendary, long-vanished comic book artist and chaos ensues. I really did not know what I was getting into, but it’s a heckuva read.

Girl's Guide to Witchcraft by Mindy Klasky. I very much enjoyed this charming tale (pun alert!) and will look for others by the same author.

The Family Upstairs by Lisa Jewell. If you enjoy Gone Girl, The Guest List, The Woman in the Window or other novels along that line, you’re bound to enjoy this one too. I do, and I did.

Good Riddance by Elinor Lipman. Now, this is a different sort of premise. A woman inherits her mother’s battered and well-thumbed yearbook from early in her teaching career. Not having any particular attachment to it, the woman throws it in with the recycling, where a neighbour finds it. The neighbour decides it’s ripe material for a documentary. Who owns it now? What scandals may be revealed? A fantastic read if you enjoy a mystery without the macabre.

Moons of Jupiter by Alice Munro. Short stories by Alice Munro. Happy sigh.

Son of a Trickster by Eden Robinson – The second novel I’ve read by Ms Robinson (see above) but nowhere close to the last. Set in the same area of Kitimat, BC, and also with a young adult Haisla protagonist, this novel focuses on Jared, the “son” referenced in the title. His grandmother may not think he’s quite human, but he’s doing the best he can to keep his family safe and his life on track. No sasquatches here, but do beware of the river otters.

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice - Yes, a reread. Yes, so good. I have found myself thinking about this story several times in the year or so since I first read it, so I dove back in. While I didn’t experience the same thrills of suspense as the first time obviously, I became just as immersed in the narrative. So much to unpack and ponder and appreciate.

Marion Lane and the Midnight Murder by T.A. Willberg. This novel is a clever mystery-adventure that imagines a 1950s London, England with a secret detective agency that works out of a large network of tunnels beneath the city. Equipped with magical gadgets and her wits, Marion Lane a first-year “inquirer in training,” must uncover the culprit of a murder before her mentor is convicted. The challenge? The murder took place in a locked, alarmed room that only a fellow inquirer could access.

Do you think I listened to any new podcasts this season? I did not. Happy to take recommendations! “Driving to the beach” season is upon us and though the road trips may be on the short side, they will at least have me leaving the neighbourhood for a change.

February 2021: Is it over yet?

I was going to say, we’re slothing our way toward the end of a full year under pandemic conditions. But look at that guy. He’s not worried about cooties, or mouth-breathing jackholes who don’t want to cover their yawps with a mask, or vaccine distribution, or businesses going under. He’s just happy he’s in a tree and that was his mission for the day. So no, we’re not slothing near as much as we should be. Here’s to a slothy-er near future, and books – always, here’s to the books!

An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth by Chris Hadfield. This memoir held my attention to the last page. Different from many memoirs, in my experience at least, is that I was much less fascinated by the person behind the adventure than the adventure itself. For me, it’s usually the opposite. Chris Hadfield just seems, I don’t know, like a genuinely decent, extremely focused and hardworking person with a big, well-earned ego, and an extremely accomplished resume. That’s how he presents himself and there doesn’t seem to be more onion to peel. Not a criticism, please note! But not terribly fascinating reading. But the day-to-day details of living in the International Space Station: sleeping in zero gravity, the challenge of getting urine samples, velcro on everything, dulled taste buds, what time zone they use, emergency space walks! Amazing. 

The Guest List by Lucy Foley. A very quick and compelling read, ideally suited for a long weekend and not many obligations. I sped through this novel on Family Day weekend and ended up with weekend left over. As you might guess, it’s not challenging in the intellectual sense, but it is an excellent ride with a few twists along the way. Plus, the isolated setting – a formerly abandoned island off the Irish Coast, populated only by the couple who owns an old castle-like inn, and the raucous wedding party there for the weekend – evokes Agatha Christie. By the time the murder happens and we find out who the victim is, well… the murderer could be just about any of them.

No Game for a Dame by M. Ruth Myers. As you might guess from the word “Dame” in the title, this is a snappy 40s detective novel that takes place in Dayton, Ohio. What makes it a particular standout is that in this series, the hard-boiled gumshoe is the dame: Maggie Sullivan, the adult child and protege of Irish cops, and an accomplished PI in her own right. It’s a clever story and a whole lot of fun.

Fury (A Kate Redman Mystery) by Celina Grace. As I was thinking about the plot of this book, I started second-guessing myself. I had mental imagery of scenes that were making me think I was confusing it with a show I’d watched. No, indeed. It was the novel I was remembering. Apparently I was so absorbed in the action of it, I had developed an inner visual of it. That has rarely happened to me before. So, yeah. I guess I’m giving this book a hearty endorsement. Also, the series would be an actual basis for the kind of British cop dramas I tend to binge. 

Aged for Murder by Fiona Grace. This book, on the other hand, was a perfect, possibly computer-generated, mash-up of a stereotypical big-city-girl-comes-to-a-small-town cosy with “Under the Tuscan Sun” or “A Year in Provence.” There’s a big life change, an old friend with a villa, an Italian hunk, misunderstandings, a mischievous goat, and plenty of luck – both good and bad. Oh, and a murder - but no one liked him anyway. That said, while I did have to work hard to maintain suspension of disbelief and avoid eye-roll injuries, I actually enjoyed it a fair bit. 

January 2021: It's a good time to hibernate

Crow Winter by Karen McBride. While this novel wouldn’t qualify as a page turner in that I wasn’t ripping through it at high speed, I was interested in finding out how it all turns out. There are two levels of plot: one in our world and one in the world of the Gods. At the nexus of both worlds, and both plots, are Hazel, an Anishinaabe woman who lingers in an extended period of mourning for her father, and Nanabush, the demi-god human/raven trickster who is trying to help her find her way forward and help himself back into the graces of the Gods as well. Both threads eventually wind together as Hazel uncovers a plot involving her father and a mine that has sat unproductive for decades, after its initial founding in a history of white exploitation. 

The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertell. I adored this delightful and spirit-soothing teenage angsty novel. It made my 2020-battered heart grow at least 3 sizes. Must read!

Hunger by Roxane Gay. Wrenching, gripping and real. A memoir and social criticism, part manifesto and part apologia.   

Pond by Claire-Louise Bennett. A weird, charming novel that I don't really know how to describe (stream-of-conciousness narrative?). At first, I was spellbound and was trying to get deeper into the world of the narrator. About mid-way, there was a tonal shift between chapters/episodes and I wondered if I was hearing from a different person. I don’t think it was; I think it was the same narrative throughout and the off-kilter feeling I had was similar to that presumably experienced by some of the neighbours or colleagues in the novel. It was an interesting device, but I was running out of patience by the end.

October to December 2020: Staggering out of the year that was

I didn’t stop reading, but the wheels fell off the keeping track of books wagon (now there’s a laboured metaphor for you!) this fall. So, here’s a possibly incomplete list of what I read this quarter. I’ll try to do better in January. Let’s not call it a resolution though. No need to tempt the gods of the new year.

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. Masterful, obviously. 

Past Crimes by Ashley Gardner and Jennifer Ashley. A collection of novellas by a single author under two pseudonyms. Pretty good actually. 

The Whisper Network by Chandler Baker. Once I started reading this novel, I found it hard to put down. Four women, all lawyers, trying to navigate career politics, parenthood, long hours, unrealistic self- and societal-expectations who encounter the traditional “whisper network” – woman-to woman advice about whom and how to avoid dangerous men –  recorded in a spreadsheet that’s shared secretly amongst career women in Dallas. When one of them decides to add a name to the list, the repercussions are something none of them expect. Fiction, but absolutely drawing on real-life so authentically that it feels like reportage (but without the false gloss – and impossible standard – of “objectivity” that journalism calls for). 

Murder on the Sugarland Express by Angie Fox. Not great, bub. I had to work to finish it. Definitely not what I’m looking for in a cosy. 

Ghost of a Chance by Cate Dean. Enjoyable undemanding read.

On the Lamb by Tina Kashian. I’ve read other installments in the Kebab Kitchen Mystery series, and this one stacks up nicely. 

Remedial Rocket Science by Susannah Nix. Subtitled “A Romantic Comedy,” this book makes it seem that the author very much is hoping for it to become a screenplay. It’s perfectly enjoyable though if I’m optioning movie rights, I’d go for a Jasmine Guillory novel  first. 

Too Many Crooks Spoil the Plot by Sarah Osborne. I couldn’t remember the plot of this one at all based on the uber-generic title. After a quick refresher, I recall the story as a good read that ticks all the cosy boxes. (That sounds potentially dirty. Is not.)

The Perfectly Proper Paranormal Museum by Kirsten Weiss. In this cosy, big-city woman returns to her small town home to find herself and ends up running not a bookshop – or a cafe or iced tea emporium or a cupcake bakery, etc., – but a paranormal museum. That’s the genre twist. I admit, I like it. 

Miss Spelled by Morgana Best. In this cosy, hapless big city woman inherits a small-town bakery (check!) and moves in. She’s inept at a lot of things in her life, cooking especially, but it turns out that she comes from a long line of witches and she needs to figure out how to make the spells work for her. Oh, and solve murders for which she looks guilty.  

Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The November read of my book club and wow, it was good. Evoked nuanced discussion about religion, extended families and responsibilities thereof, child abuse, government corruption and coups, and hope versus desperation.  

Louisiana Longshot by Jana DeLeon. A really quite entertaining cosy in which a CIA sharpshooter has to go deep undercover as a librarian in small-town Louisiana. Fun.

A Read Wine Bookstore Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1–5 by L.C. Turner. I think I got through the first three books before I noped out of them. May have been conceived and written by a random story generator fed the conventions of cosy mysteries and then poorly edited to boot. They actively made me cranky and feel taken advantage of, though I’m pretty sure I downloaded them for free (legally, always). 

I started listening to a few different podcasts this fall, but haven’t gotten hooked on any. Maybe I’m just generally hard to please right now? POSSIBLE. 

September 2020: Suddenly September is standin' beside me

It sneaks up every year. There’s so much about Autumn that I enjoy. The colours. The harvest. My birthday. Thanksgiving. My daughter’s birthday. But none of that stuff happens until October. The Dave’s birthday is September 7, which is usually just after Labour Day weekend and is often the most beautiful summer weather. Then, bam! The next day starts the brisk march to Fall, and (**existential dread**) WINTER IS COMING.

I like being warm. Actually, I like being too warm. The kind of heat that penetrates to your bones. Most years, I finally start feeling warm enough by August. Then suddenly September. So, yeah.

But you know what’s GREAT? Books. And September brought me some good ones. In the interest of getting them posted, I’m just going to list them sans review or description.

David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell

Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson.

Eight Perfect Murders by Peter Swanson

The Woman in the Window by AJ Finn

The Royal We by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan

The Wedding Party by Jasmine Guillory 

Ghost of a Chance by Cate Dean

On the Pod:

Nothing new this month as I’ve been catching up on as-yet-unheard episodes of an old favourite, Rex Factor. Having ranked all the Kings and Queens of England and then of Scotland, Graham and Ali are now ranking the English crown consorts. If you’ve never listened, treat yourself!

August 2020: So much great reading this month

Took me a while to get my act together and get August’s list up. I was tempted to wait until the end of September and combine months again, but there were just too many good, meaty, memorable books to put it off. 

Who Killed Anne-Marie? by CM Thompson. Strangely, I had started this book ages ago but couldn’t get into it. The awfulness of both main characters just put me right off. This time though, they hooked me. Funny that. Anyway, I enjoyed the book and didn’t figure out the ending before the end, so that’s nice.  

The Last Teacher by Alan Lee. The main character is kind of a throwback to the strong, silent, loner with a mysterious past – but is actually far more interesting than that. It’s suspenseful and a fast read.  

Little Fires Everywhere by Cecile Ng. Apparently there is now a mini-series based on this book with an amazing cast that includes Kerry Washington and Reese Witherspoon. I haven’t watched it, but I can see how this novel would provide excellent fodder: multiple interesting characters with interweaving plot lines, a dark backstory, family drama, coming of age. mother-and-teen angst – all the things. It’s a good read!

A Beautiful Terrible Thing: A Memoir of Marriage and Betrayal by Jennifer Waite. A memoir by a woman whose ex-husband is, in her estimation, a sociopath. Very well-written. I feel kind of bad reading it basically for entertainment. 

Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline. Historical fiction based on real events, this novel tells the story of a poor immigrant Irish girl who, when her family dies, becomes an orphan in New York City without anyone to take her in. She and dozens of other children are shepherded onto trains by well-meaning charities that (before the advent of organized foster care) take the children to the midwest and families who want them – sometimes as a well-loved child but often as a source of free labour. By focusing on the experience of a single child of the 200,000 in all who were sent on the trains, the novel brings emotional depth and realism to what seems like long-ago history.

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens. Beautifully written, plotted, paced. This novel was vivid and un-put-down-able. 

American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins. An Oprah’s Pick, American Dirt generated a whole lot of press even before it was released. Who gets to tell which stories? It’s an interesting conversation and certainly not one I dismiss out of hand. That said, I think I come down on the side of “stories want to be free.” Writers should be permitted to tackle the stories that inspire them, whether or not the characters are of the same gender, ethnicity, culture, or socio-economic background or what have you as the author. And by the same token, these authors are answerable for the quality and effectiveness and Truth (deliberate capitalization there) of their storytelling. In this case, the novel is a riveting page-turner of a story. I can’t speak to its truth, but regarding human themes like courage and what a mother will do to secure her child’s future, it feels like Truth.

The Home for Unwanted Girls by Joanna Goodman. Wrenching, enchanting, enraging. You should read this book. 

Death at the Seaside by Frances Brody. Charming cozy and, boy, I was ready for some light reading by this point.  

Real Murders by Charlaine Harris. Another charming cozy from the author of the Sookie Stackhouse series.

A Veil Removed by Michelle Cox. A historical mystery set in 1930s Chicago with a lovely strong heroine and an excellent cast of secondary characters. It’s fourth in a series, and I wouldn’t say no to reading more of them. 

Paranoid by Lisa Jackson. While I found some plot points to be rather implausible, I quite enjoyed this psychological thriller. Reality and realism has never been less appealing for me than it’s becoming in 2020. 

On the Pod:

No new suggestions on the pod this month. Catching up on episodes of You Must Remember This that I haven’t heard yet. Still a strong fave!

June and July, 2020: Summer readin’ had me a blast

SO MANY BRILLIANT BOOKS. (And some pure fun n fluff too.) I almost don’t want to pause from reading to list them, but I am compelled to share. It’ll be quick though because I have a whole new pile of borrowed books that are calling for me.

I’m not sure how I’ve not read The Color Purple until now, but wow – turns out, it’s a genuine page turner as well as a literary classic.  The other book that particularly lodged itself in my psyche so far this summer is Moon of the Crusted Snow. It’s an incredibly realistic, beautifully written apocalyptic novel that takes place in today’s world in a First Nations community in northern Ontario. SO good.

Molly Miranda: Thief for Hire (Book 1) by Jillianne Hamilton.  The title pretty much says it all. That’s not a slam, just an observation.

Murder on the Mind by LL Bartlett. Cool premise: guy gets a head injury, becomes somehow able to envision a murder and murder scene. When I write it down so baldly, it seems weak, but it’s a good read.

Scraps of Paper by Kathryn Myer Griffith. I was distracted by how the author never seemed to settle on an age for the heroine. It felt like the book was written with a 20-something heroine in mind, then half-ass edited to make her 20 years older so the story’s timelines would work.

Royal Holiday by Jasmine Guillory. Utterly charming as I have come to expect from Ms Guillory. And refreshing – the budding couple at the heart of the novel are mature adults (mature as in being old enough to have adult children themselves).

Ice Cream Murder by Leighann Dobbs. Cosy.

The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Addictive and illuminating.

Matchmaking Can Be Murder by Amanda Flower. Cosy.

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice. I bet every published review for this novel uses a word like “haunting.” It is.

Who Killed Tom Thomson? by John Little. A famous Canadian painter and precursor to the Group of Seven, Tom Thomson died unexpectedly in Algonquin Park while canoeing. It doesn’t seem like a regular drowning. Plus his original grave in the park that’s supposed to be empty – his family wanted him buried close to home – isn’t. So what happened? This book unpacks all the historic information, plus tracks many first-hand and hearsay accounts of Thomson’s time in the park.

The Temple of My Familiar by Alice Walker. Follow-on that shines the light on what were secondary or incidental characters in The Color Purple. Also so lovely.

The Cutting Season by Attica Locke. Excellent mystery that takes place on a former plantation that is now a museum and living history park. Two families’ histories interweave from post Civil War until present day. The former overseer’s family now owns the plantation, while a former slave’s descendant (the protagonist) runs it. A migrant woman worker is murdered in an adjoining field. Is history repeating?  

Death by Disputation by Anna Castle. A cosy that takes place in Elizabethan England that positions Francis Bacon as spymaster who sends the protagonist, Thomas Clarady, to Corpus Christi College on the hunt for extremist Puritans. Christopher Marlowe also guest stars. I had this novel on my Kobo for ages (I may have downloaded for free?) and hesitated to read it for the possible cheese factor. I had been unfair; it was a fine read.

Destiny’s a Witch by Lucy May. Needs a copy editor, but a great set-up for a series. 

The Lion’s Den by Katherine St. John. This is your beach read! Look no further. 

On the pod:

Still not doing a ton of driving, so not a lot of podcast listening either. One I enjoy following and pick and choose which episodes I listen to is Fresh Air from NPR. Hosted by the seemingly unflappable Terry Gross, this radio show features interviews with a wide range of interesting people about topics dear to their heart or delving into their expertise.

April and May, 2020: Reading through the Inside Times

So, those people who have become SUPER productive and are using their enforced social distancing time to learn a new language or to invent a homemade atom splitter – not me! I’m keeping on keeping on.

Both the Dave and I are working full-time from different floors of the house, and the teen folk are enduring a lot of self-paced learning. (The whole “homeschooling” thing has been quite the challenge. As a herd of ADHDers, this fam needs more structure.) The single biggest change of pace has been for our wifi. It’s exhausted.

Thank God – and writers – for books! What a refuge. Also, streaming services. (Again, poor lil wifi.) Because the weeks and months are blending, these are the books I read in Maypril.

Angry Betty by Jamie Lee Scott. Cops bust drug house. There’s one young woman the young cop used to know. Is she still able to be saved, or is she just another “angry Betty?” It’s a pretty good read. Wants to be weightier and grittier than it is.

Mummified Meringues by Leighann Dobbs. Nothing weighty or gritty about this cosy. There’s a hidden mummy in a basement. There’s a baking contest. There’s a spunky bunch of elderly ladies ready to help the baker (wife of a cop, natch) catch the killer. It’s a formula I happen to enjoy.

Murders, Curlers, and Cream by Arlene McFarlane. Another charming cosy, except this time it’s a hairdresser armed with a curling iron leading the hijinks. I might call it a “guilty pleasure” except that would imply that I have guilt about this particular pleasure. 

The Forest City Killer by Vanessa Brown. Having grown up in “the Forest City,” aka London, Ontario, I found this well-researched book particularly interesting. The authored looks at several unsolved murders from the sixties (before my time) and one from the 80s (during my childhood and from my neighbourhood). She draws connections, some admitted by her to be tenuous, to make the argument for links between several of the cases. It is absolutely fascinating. And sad, especially that – as she points out – this part of the city’s history is largely buried or forgotten. I really wish my dad was alive, so I could talk to him about this book. I think he would be really interested and likely would remember those cases from the sixties. 

Harm None by Will North. Both this and the next Will North novel are from the same series. They focus on murders in remote areas of Cornwall, England and each has a slight supernatural element. Good reads, both. I am getting a little sensitive, I notice, about women (and men) in their 40s being described with adjectives like “aging,” “still pretty,” or “well-preserved.” Ugh.

Why Bother? by Jennifer Louden. A self-help book, though I hate to label it as something that paints such a clichéd kind of picture. But it is what it is, I guess. Written in a chatty, warm voice, it really does read like a boost from a trusted friend. I bought it mostly because I admire the hustle and style of Ms. Louden who I’ve been following via her email newsletters for a while. I really did enjoy the book, and think I’ll read it again when we’re not in the midst of a global pandemic. Kind of harshed my buzz.

Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell. Interesting and infuriating though not in equal measure, this is the latest offering by Elmira native Mr. Gladwell. He digs into human nature and how our very instincts that protect us can also mislead us badly when we encounter strangers and try to understand their behaviours. Some really interesting ideas, unpacked through real-life examples of where they’ve led people astray with sometimes devastating results (Sandra Bland; the victims of Jerry Sandusky; the victim of Brock Turner, etc.). However, there are some questions just begging to be asked – how is gender a factor? Why wouldn’t parents “default to the truth” of what their daughters say rather than the male accuser? – and he doesn’t go there. Left me wanting to discuss it with him further. Hey, Malcolm, next time you’re in the area, reach out. I’ll buy the bevvies.    

Too Clever By Half by Will North. As above. Enjoyable.

 My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite. I so enjoyed this novel. The protagonist, Korede, is the serious, plain, business-like head nurse of a hospital in Nigeria. Her beautiful, head-turning, fashion designer of a sister has killed several men, as she says, “in self defence.” Korede feels she has no other options than to help hide the bodies. That’s the set-up. You really need to read it.  

On the Pod:

I’ve done so little driving these last weeks/months, my podcast listening has really taken a nosedive. I have listened to a couple episodes of the new-to-me, The Land of Desire. It’s a French history podcast, that in the words of its host, “is all about the good stuff in French history: the stories behind the objects you crave, the clothing you wear, the art you admire, the food you love, the wine you need.” I’m in!

March 2020: Global pandemics mean more time for reading

How’s that for a silver lining of the need for social distancing? More books, more knitting, more facetime with my family at home. Not to take the situation lightly, because whoa. But we’re all just trying to get through. For me, I’m working at home with the dining room table as my new office. 

Fortunately, my company has been doing work-at-home Wednesdays for 8 months or so with the goal of cutting our carbon footprint (no commuting, no big building being heated or printers powered, and so on for one day a week). It means that we’re all equipped to collaborate and communicate fairly seamlessly from home already, so that’s been smooth. Says me, whose children are teens and fairly self-running. My heart goes out to my friends and peers who are doing all the things with babies/toddlers/preschoolers/primary kids to manage too. Tough!

But back to books and a longer list than I’ve had of late.

Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience and Redemption by Laura Hillebrand. Did I mention I belong to a book club now? This was a book club pick, and a good example of a book I’d never choose on my own but I’m glad to have read it. It’s about a man named Louis Zamperini, an American Olympic runner who became an Army bombardier stationed in the South Pacific at the time of the Pearl Harbor bombing. After many harrowing missions, his plane is shot down and an entirely new “act” opens. That’s how I experienced this biography, like an incredibly absorbing play. Act 1: Mischievous young Louis finds self-discipline through athletic training. Act 2: Louis becomes a man, responsible for his own and others’ lives as part of an elite Army squadron. Act 3: Louis survives in an unforgiving enemy ocean on a raft for 6 weeks, discovering an unbelievable well of inner strength. Act 4: Japanese prison camp: Worse than I had any notion of. Act 5: His survival and eventual “rebirth.” It’s stunning, minutely documented and, in parts, hard to read. 

The Last House Guest by Megan Miranda. If you think I was due for a fast and non-emotionally draining read after the last book, you’d be correct. This novel is a psychological thriller written in a similar vein (not copying, but similar) as books like Gone Girl or Girl on the Train. You can’t be sure who’s telling the truth and who’s lying – or delusional – including the narrator. Just what I needed!   

The Pyramid: And Four Other Kurt Wallander Mysteries by Henning Mankell. I love me some Nordic gloom, especially as our hemisphere starts to brighten up a little. These stories tell of Wallander’s earliest years as a police officer and detective. As always, an excellent read.   

Women Talking by Miriam Toews. A friend – who is also a big fan of Ms Toews – told me she couldn’t get into this book despite really trying: “It’s literally just women talking! Nothing happens.” And, you know, that’s pretty accurate as a summary of the narrative. I loved it though. It is the minutes of secret meetings between women in a Mennonite colony where there has been a long history of night-time druggings and rapes that have only just been discovered. The women, traditionally powerless and accustomed to strict obedience to the men, are deciding what action to take, if any. It’s fascinating and the language feels so authentic. Interestingly, the minutes are kept by the only man the women trust (the school teacher who is at the absolute bottom of the male hierarchy) because none of the women are literate. Therefore, their most private words to each other are still recorded through a male filter, adding yet another layer to parse. I think it’s absolutely brilliant… but don’t expect fast decision-making and forceful action.  

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood. This may even be better than The Handmaid’s Tale, to which it is the sequel, taking place just over a decade or so later. Holy smokes, I was gripped. I did not anticipate this approach at all. Mostly focusing on the perspectives of one of the Aunts and of the teenage daughter of a Commander, this book gives a whole new dimension of Gilead. So good!  You don’t need to read The Handmaid’s Tale first, but why wouldn’t you? 

The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare. I read this script because my son is reading it for school this term in grade 10 English. Somehow I’d never read it before or seen it on stage. Not sure why it makes the cut to teach over so many others. It’s beautifully written, of course, and some absolutely gorgeous speeches, but the anti-Semitism is just so on the surface. If it was more cloaked or subtle, that could be a source of learning in itself, but… Shrug. I’m not going to diss Will, obviously, just wondering at the curriculum choice.

Our Daily Bread by Lauren B. Erskine. I’m so curious what the book club ladies will think of this one. It’s a doozy about a socially isolated, poverty-stricken community – just outside a “normal” town – where sexual abuse and various kinds of addiction are the norm. Fiction, loosely based on real life cases, shows a picture of what happens when the more powerful accept that certain people are simply backward, too different and unworthy of extra effort. Another tough read. I need an antidote.

Dead Eye by Alyssa Day. To be honest, I’m a little torn about what to think about this book. It is a super-entertaining read, and I’d normally be fast to endorse it as a nice light snack (and it definitely lightened up my mental load after my last several choices!). However, it’s so blatantly “borrowing” from the world created by Charlaine Harris in the Sookie Stackhouse/Trueblood stories that it feels across the line. Shifters, vampires “coming out of the coffin” into mainstream life, a pawn shop (as in the Midnight, Texas series), similar cover art – even a tiger–human named Quinn! Like shockingly high-quality fan fic with originality too. I tried to search up any endorsement by Ms Harris or even if Alyssa Day might be a pseudonym for her, but no luck. So I don’t know, but I really enjoyed it!

On the Pod:

I mentioned my long-time favourite Rex Factor last month, which is the podcast that led me to Saga Thing. Inspired by Rex Factor, Saga Thing is hosted by two professors of medieval literature with deep love and knowledge of medieval Iceland. Their goal is to read and review the Icelandic sagas, one at a time, in an epic quest to put the sagas of the Icelanders on trial and to celebrate the greatness of saga literature.

After a summary and discussion of the featured podcast, judgement is rendered on the following topics:

1. Best Bloodshed – who had the most brilliant death or maiming?

2. Body Count – a tally of every unnatural death in the saga

3. Notable Witticisms – an award for the best bit of dialogue or description

4. Nicknames – a review of the best nicknames in the saga, with an award for favourite

5. Outlawry – a tallying-up of the despicable behaviors of the figures in the saga, at the end of which the sentence of outlawry and exile is passed on the most irredeemable of the bunch

6. Thingmen – as goðar (chieftains) and each host chooses a figure they’d want on their side in a feud or at the Althing

7. Ratings – a subjective assessment of the saga’s quality 

It’s early days for me yet with this podcast, but I’m learning plenty of things that I’ll never have reason to call on in real life. Perfect!

January and February, 2020: This really is how it always is

Slothing through the dark, moody months, waiting for the sun to come back to stay. I understand why Nordic literature tends so much to the gloomy. It’s not winter that’s the problem in itself. I love those winter days with a bright blue sky and so cold that the snow squeaks under foot. We just don’t get enough of those days to keep me powered up. Slow brained and extra sleepy, I haven’t plowed through an abundance of books, but they have been quite good.   

Three Women by Lisa Taddeo – This non-fiction book falls somewhere between journalism and literature. With chapters that move back and forth between three real women in very different circumstances, it recounts their experiences as sexual beings and the repercussions these experiences have on their lives. One is a young women who had had an “affair” (the loaded language there captures the point) with her high school teacher, one is a married women whose husband urges her to have sex with others while he watches, and the third is a divorced woman who pursues an old flame who is now married himself. It’s an interesting read, particularly the story of the high schooler because damn society sucks; however, there’s little threading or rationale for telling these women’s stories as a trio.   

This Is How It Always Is by Laurie Frankel – A novel told from the perspective of a doctor and mother of five about her life and family, with particular regard to the experiences of her youngest––who she thought was her fifth boy, Claude, until she learns that Claude is actually a girl named Poppy. Would that all transgender children be born to a family this equipped to accept and nurture them. However, while Ms Frankel (herself the mother of a transgender child) paints a beautiful family, the novel acknowledges the reality that outside of the home, a much different experience awaits. Very enjoyable as well as enlightening.     

A House in the Sky: A Memoir by Amanda Lindhout and Sara Corbett. Amanda Lindhout was kidnapped and held captive by Muslim extremists in Somalia for well over a year. I read this with my book club, which was great because we had very different takeaways from reading it. I was impressed by the empathy with which Ms Lindhout described her captors and at her ability to cling to a life-affirming perspective throughout her captivity. Others were irritated by the naiveté and arrogance that took her into the situation to begin with. A Muslim member provided invaluable perspective on the passages of the Koran that are cited in the book, and the entire sections that are never mentioned (that is, the Surah Maryam, which details the life of Mary and the birth of Jesus) and could have provided a bridge of shared culture between captors and captive. Interesting all around.     

A Case of Blackmail in Belgravia by Clara Benson. Sometimes I just want a nice cosy to sink into like a bubble bath. This novel delivered in spades with a 1929 uppercrust English setting, complete with low-level aristocrats, adventurers, journalists, saucy young ladies and a murdered man that everyone had loathed in life but nevertheless kowtowed to named Ticky Maltravers.   

Just Kids by Patti Smith. I don’t know about you, but I certainly wouldn’t have predicted that the mother of all things punk would have been such a truly sweet young lady. Less an outcast and more a follower of her own drum, Patti Smith writes beautifully and perhaps with rose-coloured glasses of her first first years in New York City and symbiotic relationship with the also legendary Robert Mapplethorpe, a love that endured and evolved across decades until his death. From reading this memoir alone, you would never know what a massive influence Patti Smith herself had on the culture. Her words make it all seem sort of happenstance – though it’s clear that she has a strong vision and a massive work ethic that powers her achievements. Like the true artist she is, she shows rather than tells.

On the pod:

Rex Factor

I haven’t mentioned Rex Factor for ages, but I still listen faithfully whenever there’s a new episode. Hosts Graham Duke and Ali Hood have been putting together this independent podcast for almost 10 years, astonishingly enough, and the quality just gets better and better. Series 1 was the Kings and Queens of England; Series 2 the Kings and Queens of Scotland; and the current series is the Queen and Prince Consorts of England. Each episode looks at the life and reign of the individual, geopolitical alliances and conflicts, economics, social history legends… the research is substantial and fascinating. Then the gents go on to rank the individual on, as they explain:

• Battleyness – how good they are in battle and warfare

• Scandal – their notoriety and tendency towards naughtiness

• Subjectivity – how well and justly they ruled (i.e. would you want to be a subject?)

• Longevity – how long they ruled for

• Dynasty – how many legitimate, surviving children they had.

Then ultimately, they highly subjectively choose whether or not to award the “Rex Factor.” At the end of each season, all the Rex Factor winners are then pitted against each to determine the ultimate winner. It is a hoot and seriously educational!

December 2019: The close of the year

I think this month probably holds the record for fewest books consumed. The first one I tackled really put a governor on my reading speed. I feel like January will have a longer list, at least in part because of two books I got for Christmas from two of the best Canadian writers publishing today. Stay tuned!

All that Remains: A Renowned Forensic Scientist on Death, Mortality and Solving Crimes by Sue Black, DDBE, FRSE. Other editions of the same book carry the subtitle of “A Life in Death,” which, though less explicit about the contents of the memoir, is at least as descriptive. Professor Black offers her perspective – as scientist, teacher, daughter, mother, human living in a particular cultural context – on living, dying, death and “all that remains.” Fascinating and well-written, I nevertheless discovered it took me almost the full month of December to read. In some sections, I found it emotionally taxing, in others gruesome or entertaining or lyrical. What it never is, is morbid. The author conveys a resonant sense of peace and purpose in her life’s work that I deeply admire.    

Ask Again, Yes by Mary Beth Keane. After several weeks (months, actually) on the library waiting list, my hold on this novel finally came up. It tells the story of a boy and a girl who live next door to each other and have been best friends since they were small. As their friendship starts to deepen into young romance, their families are shattered by a gunshot fired by one of their mothers. Over years, they find their way back to each other and have to learn to overcome their shared past. I can’t remember why I even placed the hold: whether I read a review or someone recommended it, but the length of the list and that there are at least seven people after me on it testifies to this book’s popularity. So, you know, lots of people think it’s pretty great. I enjoyed it, and I admire the PR wave that’s supporting it. That said, even with a recency effect, it wouldn’t make my ‘best of list’ for 2019.   

On the Pod:

Welcome to Night Vale is a long-running podcast that spoofs a community radio station that provides updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, featuring local weather (always a song, just a song), news, announcements and warnings from the Sheriff's Secret Police, mysterious lights in the night sky, dark hooded figures with unknowable powers, and cultural events. I’d heard about it for at least 3 or so years before my son had me listen to an episode while we were driving. Bizarre, funny, utterly creative – I’m delighted that there are years’ worth of twice-monthly episodes for me to enjoy. 

Nov 2019: When the skies of November turn gloomy

None of these books were complete keep-me-up-late-for-just-one-more-chapter page turners, but in truth, that might be more about me than them. As days get shorter, my solar-powered self tends to run down a bit. I’m doing pretty well this fall overall, but my appetite for reading has to compete with a lot of other evening activities at this time of year (including, I’ll admit, an addictive little word scramble game on my phone!).

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin. I truly thought that this novel was written with a modern lens looking back on 1970s New York. The themes of racial profiling, systemic oppression of Black people, societal fear of young black men – it all seemed so current. I looked up the publishing date after I finished reading it, and it was first published in 1974. That honestly shook me a bit. Nothing stale or dated about this novel, which is, perhaps above all else, a love story about the unshakeable resolve of a young woman and her family to save her fiance from jail after he is falsely accused of rape. With a 95% fresh rating at Rotten Tomatoes, the movie made in 2018 based on the book is likely also well worth your time.   

Miss Kopp’s Midnight Confessions by Amy Stewart. I’ve previously read the first novel in this series about Constance Kopp, the first “lady detective” in New Jersey circa the 19-teens. Based on true stories, this third in the series, is an enjoyable and rather wholesome read. 

Death Retires by Cate Lawley. The premise in this cozy is that Death – or, rather, a Death, as there are several reapers working at any one time – retires back into a human existence and is just looking for a nice, normal suburban lifestyle to relax into. Unfortunately for this Death, aka Geoff, he continues to be visited by troublesome ghosts and is charged with the care of an even more pesky bobcat, who’s possessed by a human soul. Quite entertaining and good for several more episodes in a series, I’d expect.

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. So much buzz about this book! It’s being made into a web series by Amazon, and I’m not sure if the buzz came first or if the Amazon PR department deserves a raise. Regardless, it is such a masterful documentary-style treatment of a wholly fictional band. The story is told through the often-conflicting recollections of a massively popular 70’s rock band, The Six, and their co-lead singer and songwriter, Daisy Jones. I devoured this book. 

On the Pod:

Dolly Parton’s America

Whether or not you are a self-proclaimed Dolly fan (and I wouldn’t have said I was particularly), you’ve got to give this podcast a listen. Over nine episodes, host Jad Abumrad of WNYC Studios interviews musicians from around the world, academics, Parton family members, and Dolly herself to unpack her journey, her songs, and her legacy. He also plays a lot of her music, original recordings and covers. She’s a fascinating subject and, while the music speaks for itself, I really appreciated the opportunity to give it a more thoughtful listen.