I’m embarassed to say that it’s been over a year since my last post. To my defense, I’ve been a bit busy since then- namely, quitting my job a year ago and heading out to the big scary world of being my own boss.

And while it’s been a lot of fun, it hasn’t left me a lot of time to do what I love- read- and do something I was really staring to enjoy – blog about it!

So I’m back. And this time, I’m pulling back the proverbial curtain and revealing MY TRUE IDENTITY OH MY GOD. While it was a lot of fun to be the annonymous “Reader,” I find that what generates conversation the most (and what I’m after doing here) is generating conversation. And that’s hard to do, if you don’t know who I am.

With that….

Welcome. I’m Becky.

And I hope you’ll enjoy reading.

Though I’m currently single and have no kids (this isn’t as desperate as it sounds, just factual reporting!), I’ve  BEEN a kid who loved books. And I’m pleased to say I have maintained an enjoyment of children’s books throughout life and recently began purchasing them for my (and my future children’s) collection.

On vacation, I picked up “Once I Ate A Pie,” which is an utterly delightful collection of “confessional” poems by adorably illustrated dogs.

“Once I Ate A Pie” is the confession made by Mr. Beefy, the heart-stealing pug featured on the cover, who has been known to cart away sticks of butter when his people are cooking. Also featured are Tillie & Maude, whose poem about being twins yet being opposites was heartachingly adorable, and Lucy, the shelter-rescue whose story made my cry.

Yes, cry.

Yes, in the store.

Hey, I never claimed to be cool.

The book was written by Patricia MacLachlan, author of phenomenal books such as “Sarah, Plain and Tall,” and her daughter, Emily MacLachlan Clarest. So whether you love dogs, love poems, love the illustrations of Katy Schneider, love kids, or just need a good sappy cry in the middle of a bookstore, check out “Once I Ate A Pie.”

Don’t get me wrong- I’m still READING like crazy.

I’m just not sharing it.

And isn’t that the whole point of this blog (which, um, admittedly and ironically, NO ONE reads yet – if you’re out there, reader o’ mine, will you please comment and let me know??)

Over the past couple weeks I’ve read several books, including Barbara Kingsolver’s “Prodigal Summer,” always an excellent read, and Ken Follet’s “The Pillars of the Earth,” which I’d read before, several years ago, but wanted to re-read so that I could review it together with “World Without End.” Did I finish it? You bet. Could I write a review on it? Yep. Have I done so?

…….nope.

Luckily for you, I’m in the midst of re-reading a short series I got hooked on a couple years ago, which can only mean one thing- I’m at the bottom of the barrel, and there are new books calling my name! Yard sale this weekend, and I’m off to Half-Price Books and Borders with the proceeds!

The memoir of a childhood haunted by alcoholism (dad’s), complete narcissism (mom’s), and crazy inventions designed to get-rich-quick, all the while coupled with conspiracy theories designed to entertain the children as they move from one squalid place to another in evasion of bill collectors (again, mostly dear old dad). 

If ever there was a case for why some people shouldn’t reproduce, it’s Rex and What’s-Her-Name Walls (the mother, who I hated for her endless kowtowing to her alcoholic, uprooting, thief of a husband, has become nameless in my head for some reason, and I don’t have the book in front of me), but amazingly, if it is all to be believed, 3 of the 4 children come through with flying colors (I’ll leave you to discover which 3, and how. Stop yelling at me, I didn’t ruin the damn ending,ok?)

But here’s the real question. As a “memoir,” (and just ask The Reader Mom, we had a 20-min debate about this!) can we really believe that all the events played out like this? Here’s the points of the debate:

The Reader Mom’s side of things: Bullshit. TRM holds a mostly skeptical view on the story, which she described as extremely well written but nonetheless, mostly fiction. As a former hospital worker, she simply cannot believe that these children weren’t reported to Social Services more often, or earlier, especially given the scrapes described. She also has a lot of trouble believing the parts about how quickly they gained success after flying the proverbial coop (RELAX, that was not a spoiler).

The Reader: I tend to err on the side of, “Well….probably it’s mostly true?” given that when people say things happened to them, I want  to believe them, especially when they are writing it in a form that implies truth (autobiography, etc). I feel that, while many of the parts of the book seemed unbelievable to us, we also have to consider that she was writing for memories of her childhood, and with a child’s perspective on things.

This, however, led to the GREAT DEBATE O’ THE GLASS CASTLE, and that is of memoir versus autobiography.

People just can’t fake it in autobiographies these days, especially given the industry uproar over books like James Frey’s “A Million Little Pieces,” which, for heaven’s sake, got him scolded by OPRAH for lying about. Bad, James Frey, bad! But now, thanks to the Catholic school-esque hand slap Frey over there got,  everyone knows if you make half of it up, you don’t call it an autobiography, you call it a memoir. Say it with me, memmmmmmmoir. Based on memory, which is entirely subjective, which means you can claim, as Ms. Walls does, that she never knew what a thermostat was until her teenage years.  (Again, TRM calls Bullshit on this.)

This was a book-club pick for The Reader Mom’s book club, and I imagine it sparked a lively debate there as well. In fact, I think I’ll ask her about it before I post this.

So in the end, dear readers, the question of whether or not you can believe everything you read remains a mystery. But the question of SHOULD you read “A Glass Castle” is as crystal-clear as the title suggests: Yes, yes you should, and as quickly as possible.

East Coast. Mafioso. A troubled family boss about to be called out- at a wedding- for a life of misdeeds. And then Agnes- oh wait, that was the OTHER book about the Mafia, weddings, and crazy hit men that I read this week.

In THIS book, James Patterson and Andrew Gross do a fantastic job portraying the perspectives of multiple people- the federal agent trying to balance his professional career versus his personal feelings for the Mob boss who takes out two of his friends, the single mom who winds up a juror on the trial and, later, is the sole survivor of a bombing that kills the rest of the jury as well as her son, and the hired killer that orchestrates that bombing, as well as other acts, on behalf of the mob boss on trial. Following me?

Inevitably, Nick -the hottie federal agent- and Andie -the sexy single mom- bond (and let’s just say, it was some well-written…um… “bonding” when they finally did….) and take on the role of vigilantes as they track down the man responsible for countless deaths to exact their own kind of justice.

A book club book? Probably not, although there are some interesting questions raised after Andie and Nick finish getting together and get on with tracking down the Mafia don, violating multiple laws and probably some global treaties along the way.

Beach reading? Definitely.

I initially picked up Judge and Jury because I had finished a couple of the other books I had brought on vacation with me, and I wasn’t thrilled about starting a couple of the others. After reading this one, I picked up the other two James Pattersons on the shelf in my rented vacation unit, and now I can’t imagine leaving all three of them behind!

Roses are Red, by James Patterson, is one of the Alex Cross books. APPARENTLY, there is an entire Alex Cross series that I have somehow missed in my pursuit for crime novels. Dear readers, no longer. I will need to acquire more of the Alex Cross books and I will need them soon. Next, Step On A Crack by James Patterson and Michael Ledwidge. If I thought Alex Cross was a great lead character, Detective Michael Bennett may have stolen my heart away. Be on the lookout for more reviews about this series in the future!

For a fun poolside read, this one can’t be beat. Warning- I’m going to talk about the plot of the book, so if you don’t want to know, don’t read ahead.

Crusie and Mayer’s whimsical cast of Mobster characters provides fodder for hilarity and suspense by themselves, not to mention the main character, Cranky Agnes,  an undecidedly non-mobster who finds herself afloat in 25 years of “family” business coming to a head when she unwittingly purchases a mansion from one of the brother’s widows- or is she? Since no one’s ever found the body, this is a topic of consternation.

Aside from the body, they’re also missing a cool $5 million, someone is trying to dog-nap Agnes’ lovable mutt, a pair of flamingos is on the loose, and Agnes is in real danger of being thrown in jail if she whacks one more person with her cast-iron pan.

Add a cast of Frankies, Joeys, Brendas, Marias and and a family whose male members all go by the names Two-Wheels, Three-Wheels, Four-Wheels, and so on (my only gripe with the wholly unoriginal New Jersey Italian mob names being that there weren’t a couple Vinnys in the mix. Or maybe I just missed him among all the name changes and long-lost relatives resurfacing. Well crap. Sorry Vinny.)

Did I mention that they’re supposed to be throwing a wedding, too- during which at least one hired killer will be in attendance, and needless to say folks, he’s not there for Agnes’ much worried over wedding cake.

As the bodies start piling up, thanks to the handiwork of the smoldering Shane and his band o’ contract killers (but not the ones who will be attending the wedding- these are OTHER hired killers- because when you stumble across one, there’s usually a couple in hot pursuit, apparently).  Speaking of smoldering, ladies- Shane is, and he’s gotten Cranky Agnes all riled up. You won’t be disappointed by the ensuing – ummmm…..You won’t be disappointed.

As far as pairings go, Crusie and Mayer are one to watch. They’ve got another book out which I may just pick up one of these days. They write seamlessly – though a collaborative effort, you’d be hard-pressed to tell who wrote what. The wording is descriptive without being showy, letting you picture the scenes as they’re happening, but not carving out so much detail that it leaves nothing to the imagination.

A book club pick? Probably not- this one’s not going to be inspiring deep conversation anytime soon.

A fun read from two writers I’m going to be keeping an eye on? Definitely. I bought it for $5.98 – so head on over to your local book hawker and see if you can get your hands on Agnes (and Shane) for the same.

Thanks to my uber- supportive reader Mom, who is awesome enough to buy me a copy of all the books her book club reads, I already had several: “The Secret History” by Donna Tartt, “Blessings” by Anna Quindlen, “The Almost Moon,” by Alice Sebold (which I cannot WAIT to sink my teeth into, having read both “Lucky” and “The Lovely Bones” several years back), “Ghost Story,” by Peter Straub, and finally, “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man,” by Steve Harvey. Yes, comedian Steve Harvey. I’ve got to say, I’m kind of looking forward to this one.

But then I walked into B&N, stopped dead in my tracks, and (depending on how you want to picture me) may or may not have shrieked a little while jumping up and down giddily. Because, dear readers, JODI PICOULT HAS A NEW BOOK OUT!!!!

I should explain. Probably about 5 years ago now, I picked up “My Sister’s Keeper,” one of Picoult’s fabulous novels, in an airport. I’m pretty sure I had it finished by the time I arrived at my final destination that day. (This was probably a combination of the excellent book and also of my flights being predictably delayed and cancelled, a la “Dear American Airlines,” by Jonathan Miles, who writes a story in the form of a letter being written by a man whose flights have done just that and caused him to miss the culminating event of his life after years of self-exploration to arrive at that point…there’s your mini-review for that one, it’s probably not going to get its own post).

At any rate. “My Sister’s Keeper.” Totally and completely hooked. Since then I’ve acquired the entire rest of her collection, the latest three in hardback because I simply couldn’t wait for them to be more affordable and, let’s face it, I scrap all book-buying rules for Jodi

So yesterday found me giddily purchasing “Handle With Care.” I’m only 193 pages into it, but I’m pretty confident that my review after I’m done will continue to be along the lines of where it is now, which is, “ohmygod, how does she do this?!”

The book is excellent. As with her other novels, this one explores an incredibly complex scenario from the viewpoint of multiple people- all with a unique, and dare-I-say completely acceptable perspective on the situation. Suffice it to say that these viewpoints don’t always line up, leading the reader to have to discover their own feelings on the situation.

(The rest is NOT a spoiler, since you could learn this reading the book jacket, but if you truly want to know NOTHING about the book before buying it, don’t read on and I’ll see you in my next post!)

“Handle with Care” centers around a child with osteogenesis imperfecta, where bones break easily and a sneeze could result in a cast. (This is an extremely non-medical and simplified explanation; Picoult does an amazing job of providing you the genetic information behind this disease and the statistics on the patients  it affects each year). The question posed of the parents, as they search for the answer to whether or not to sue their physician (who happens to be Mom’s best friend) for medical malpractice, is: Even though you love her, would it be better if she had never been born?

I’m about 1/3 of the way through but with a busy day ahead of me, so look for the review sometime next week. In the meantime, let me know your thoughts about any of the books on my vacation reading list! I also picked up Lee Child’s “Killing Floor”- a Jack Reacher novel, another series I’m a big fan of. Look for future blog posts on Child’s work. Finally, I grabbed “Agnes and the Hitman,” by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer, off the bargain bin shelf. I have to confess I didn’t even read the back, but the title alone was worth the $5.98 for a fun beach read.

Happy reading!

Ahem. Back to reality.

The First Official Disclaimer:  I am not in any way compensated by entities including (but not limited to) writers, authors, publishers, editors, and so forth.

The Second Official Disclaimer: I am, however, the extremely well appreciated volunteer editor of my neighborhood’s monthly contribution to a local newspaper. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. More likely not. Rest assured that my literary contributions at present are, largely, confined to this blog with the exception of the infrequent, yet highly regarded, witty write-ups of the neighborhood holiday party extravaganza, or the local Easter Egg Hunt.

The Third Official Disclaimer: All opinions contained herein are my own. Any similarities to others are, as they say in the movies, entirely coincidental.

That’s all for now…..back to my BOOK!

Then there’s my perennial favorite, uttered first and foremost by my mother and, since that fateful day, just about every envious incredulous roommate since: ”Are you seriously….. blowdrying your hair…. and…reading??”

Yes. Yes I am.

Because, dear readers (I say this with irony as you currently number in the, oh, zero-region, but I have every confidence that my satirical wit, quirky reviews and self-deprecating humor will soon win your love and adoration), I JUST CAN’T STOP READING.

I read in the morning. I read at work on my lunch break if I’m in the middle of Twilight a really good book. I read whilst lazily reclining on my porch swing, on my couch, or enjoying a hot bath. And yes, I read while I’m blowdrying my hair in the morning. And I’m not ashamed to admit it.

So today starts my humble experiment.

I pledge to take my nose OUT of the book and share the joy that I’ve found in reading with you, the audience.

I pledge to tell you what I’ve been reading and…..

I pledge to tell you what I really think about it, not what someone else thinks I should have thought about it.

I pledge to continue in my theory that a book doesn’t have to be intellectual to be worth reading.

And, above all, I pledge to keep reading.