Category: Book Reviews (Page 38 of 40)

So far I haven’t been inspired by the holiday picks on Amazon and Indigo. At least the Globe and Mail top 100 books had some interesting selections, as did the New York Times. In general though, there were books I thought should be on the list and weren’t.

Here are my reads and picks for the year.

Monique’s Teen, Tween and Kid Picks

I only have 5 picks because a lot of teens and tweens read adult books. But these are the books I read this year and thought were fun. My favourite is You’re a Bad Man, Mr. Gum by Andy Stanton. The jacket copy says, “Good evening. Mr Gum is a complete horror who hates children, animals, fun, and corn on the cob. This book’s all about him. And an angry fairy who lives in his bathtub. And Jake the dog, and a little girl called Polly and an evil, stinky butcher all covered in guts. And there’s heroes and sweets and adventures and everything.”

But if you don’t like my choices, check out Indigo’s Junior Advisor Book Picks: these tweens and teens have picked and reviewed the books they like. If you want to know what to buy for people aged 12-17 then go to the source.

Monique’s Fiction Picks

My number one pick is James’ novel Up in Ontario. I think the storytelling is superb and I’m not just saying that because we live together. It’s a good story for male and female readers. I point that out because men often are reluctant to pick up fiction titles. They tend to prefer nonfiction titles. But this is a good boy story. I highly recommend it.

I have 12 picks in total. All are books I’ve read or am going to read. Highlights are Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman, The Garneau Block by Todd Babiak, A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon, and Margarettown by Gabrielle Zevin.

Monique’s Nonfiction Picks

I have 10 picks here. My ultimate favourite book this year was Made to Break by Giles Slade. It’s the book for people interested in things, how they work, and where and why we do things the way we do. Saying it’s a history of consumerism makes it seem less interesting than it is, but think about how you’d describe Freakonomics or The Tipping Point. This is a book of ideas.

My other fav is A Year of Adventures by Lonely Planet. It’s a coffee table book with beautiful photos and inspiration for every day of the year. The book answers the question: If you could be anywhere in the world today, where would the best place be and what would you be doing?

What’s the book you want to receive as a gift? What book do you want to buy for everyone on your list?

Tell me your holiday picks.

The fourth book in the Summer of the Sisterhood series, Forever in Blue, was the perfect way to spend my day at home.

I am sick with a head cold and the glare of the computer monitor is burning a hole in my already headachy head. This will be a short review.

I loved it.

The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants is a great series by Ann Brashares. Lena, Carmen, Bridget and Tibby remind me of combinations of my own teenage friends. The books are a great way to get carried away in your own reminiscence as well as the story of the Septembers.

For anyone already a fan, this final book in the series will not disappoint you.

www.sisterhoodcentral.com

Stephen King has written a love story.

It’s also a story of sadness, loss and remembrance.

I started out not wanting to read the book alone and I finished wishing I was alone, instead of crying my eyes out on a plane full of people. But life is Ralph. I had the whole row to myself, every other seat was full yet none of the middles came to take my aisle seat. Such is the nonplausible reality of life, like when Ralph the dog returns home three years after he disappeared. Life is Ralph.

Ralph is only one of the little tidbits I’ve adopted from Lisey’s Story. It’s ripe with Landon-isms, maybe these are King-isms, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the narrative structure of Lisey’s Story is engaging. King switches between past and present so that you’re left all of a sudden wondering what world you are in. He makes you unease about shadows in the mirror, eating fruit after dark and basically taps into the darkest of superstitions.

Scott and Lisey Landon’s world is so well crafted in this book that it’s hard not to turn it into your own. To adopt Scott’s phrases, the same way Lisey has done. To feel like you as a reader are on a great bool hunt, you’re not just following the bool Scott has left for Lisey, you’re looking for the stations of the bool left for you by Stephen King.

You must be thinking what the smuck am I talking about?

A bool is a treasure hunt, a good joke, something fun, that ends in an RC, or a candy bar, or a story.

But Scott was a bit of a nutter himself. There are good bools, like the one he’s left for Lisey, and there are blood bools, like the ones his father introduced to him. Blood bools are bloodletting, when you cut to release the bad-gunky.

Lisey’s Story is about bools: blood bools and good bools.

But Lisey’s Story itself is a mothersmucking good bool.

And I have a bool for you, but you’ll have to wait until I set it up. Then we’ll play it. Hopefully later today or tomorrow.

Stephen King has never been one of my must-read authors. I generally feel that enough book buyers support Stephen King so I don’t have to. Instead I like to read the lesser-known books, the odd-ball fiction, the high-brow academic books that most people happily left behind after university.

I also tend to avoid Stephen King because he scares the crap out of me. My friend Nicole used to read parts of Tommyknockers to me on the school bus. I’d be haunted for days. Reviewers talk about the craft of Stephen King, the brilliance of his writing–I think he scares the crap out of them too.

The thing about Stephen King is that he’s a genius. I once saw him on celebrity Jeopardy and I recall Alex making a joke about whether he was going to let the other players in the game. The man knew everything. I admire a mind like a steel trap–it’s one of the many elements James brings to our relationship. He remembers the things I forget, like people’s names, places we’ve visited, the driving route to Port Moody or to IKEA in Richmond.

But lately Stephen King has been reinserting himself into my reading sphere. A couple of months ago I came across The Cell and was determined to read it. I posted about the charming Stephen King and his appearance on Amazon Fishbowl. Then I bought a cell phone and decided that my own paranoia about gas stations and cell phones (there’s a warning label on the pumps) was probably generating enough anxiety that I could pass on reading The Cell.

Then a week ago I received an advanced copy of Stephen King’s latest novel Lisey’s Story.

Lisey Debusher Landon recently lost her husband–a famous, cult author. He’s widely admired by academics and fans. Has won the National Book Prize and the Pulitzer. He too seems to have a mind like a steel trap, but his houses demons that Lisey is only just coming to understand. Lisey is a bit forgetful too. As she’s cleaning out his study, she realized that he likely told her the passwords to his computers, but it wasn’t important then so she forgot. Little moments of their relationship are like that too. The light heart–the relationship everyone sees; and the dark heart–the one even they like to ignore and forget. Lisey’s attempt to order and store her husband’s memorabilia becomes, in true Stephen King fashion, a journey to the heart of darkness.

That at least is what I gleaned from the back cover and my dip into the first few chapters.

Stephen King really is a master storyteller. His writing structure is incredibly sophisticated. What drove me mad with The Da Vinci Code was the generic, stereotypical characters and the thriller gender stereotype of plot vs. character. Also, there wasn’t really anything imaginative in the writing. The story was good and fast paced, which is what helped me plough through it. But Stephen King. He’s got flashbacks. He’s got several levels of mystery. And each page feels like a set up for something big and dark, which is lurking around the corner. He’s also got suspense and huge creep factor. This last element is why I avoid Stephen King.

I had every intention of ignoring this novel too but I thought it might be a little softer than the others. The cover copy calls it “perhaps King’s most personal and powerful novel ever … the temptations of madness, and the secret language of love.” See, seems rather charming rather than scare-the-pants-off-you.

I was also pulled in because it is an advance reader’s edition. Scribner has, for several years, not produced advances of Stephen King’s works. The reason is because advance reading copies are not for resale, they are meant to get reviewers and booksellers excited and talking about the upcoming book or ordering more copies. Basically they are the front-line buzz makers, they get the early scoop. Sometimes general public, bloggers and others loosely connected to the industry also get advances. But advances are really expensive to make, often more than the actual book. They cost more as well because they are mailed individually to people rather than via bulk shipments to stores. So I have an advance copy. I’m one of the few people in the world with a chance to read Stephen King before the rest of you. That’s pretty exciting. I’m 100 pages into the book, totally hooked but also rattled.

My new rules for Stephen King are

1. I must never read Stephen King alone.
2. I must never read Stephen King first thing when I wake up.
3. I must never read Stephen King when it is dark and rainy outside, and I’m all alone and I’ve just woken up.

I suspect also that #4 is true: I must never read Stephen King before I go to bed.

I’m going to wait until James comes home from early morning fishing and then when there is sunshine outside and lots of people coming for dinner, I will try to read a few more pages.

Thank you Stephen King for being such a creep. And thank you Scribner for tapping my pride and then punishing me with the anxiety of reading the whole book.

Lisey’s Story is available in stores October 24.

Third Class Superhero is the title story of this collection from Charles Yu, and it is by far my favourite.

Moisture Man receives a rejection letter.

Quote: Dear Applicant, not a good sign, the number of qualified candidates this year blah blah far exceeded the number of available blah.

Moisture Man has his good guy card, but he’s not even made it to third class superhero. Some of those he graduated with have climbed the ladder quickly and are already positioned to be first class superheroes.

It’s difficult to compete against the usual assortment of strong and beautiful superhero lads and lassies. The fireball shooters. The ice makers. The telepaths. The shapeshifters. Moisture Man is able to make two gallons of water from the moisture in the air and shoot it in a stream or a gentle mist. Or a ball. “Which is useful for water balloon fights, but not all that helpful when trying to stop Carnage and Mayhem from robbing a bank.”

Yu’s stories all full of anti-heroes, tragic figures and the absurd.

Disclaimer: Third Class Superhero is published by Harcourt and distributed by Raincoast in Canada so I have a vested interest in this book. But I can assure you that I’m not making up my enthusiasm for Yu.

Everyone goes through a spot of bother at some point in life. Some of us go through a spot of bother daily–minor things that niggle away at our brain, things that make us doubt what we know or believe to be right. The four main characters in A Spot of Bother go through this hourly.

There’s George. Father of the family. Presumed (by himself only) to be dying of cancer. The doctor says it’s eczema.

There’s Jean. Mother of the family. Been having an affair for several years without complication. Now that George is retired (and fearing he is dying of cancer), he follows her around like a puppy. The foreign attention makes Jean paranoid that George has discovered her affair.

There’s Katie. Daughter. About to be married (for the second time). The family is “chuffed” that her choice of groom is Ray. Ray is dependable, great with her son Jacob, has money and a house they live in for free, but he’s not really their type–class wise, intelligence wise, they can’t really put their finger on it. Katie is also torn about why she’s marrying Ray. Is it to piss off her mother?

There’s Jamie. Gay as a three dollar bill–when he’s with his friends and with Katie–but straight-laced and rather private with his parents and their neighbours. Coming to Katy’s wedding with his boyfriend Tony will disturb the neighbours, cause his mother to hug Tony like a long-lost son (she knows Jamie is gay but doesn’t talk about it) and cause his father (who also knows Jamie’ is gay) to pat Tony on the back and treat him like an associate or sportsmate of Jamie’s.

A Spot of Bother indeed.

George goes crazy.
Jean calls it off with David.
Katie cancels the wedding.
Ray throws a dustbin.
Tony breaks up with Jamie.
Then I can’t tell you what happens because it will ruin the ending for you.

A Spot of Bother is as funny as his first book The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.

There’s a website for the book aspotofbotherbooks.com, which is also tres drole.

The opening image is an invitation to Katie and Ray’s wedding:

Quote: George and Jean Hall
Invite you to the (second) wedding of their (tempestuous, stubborn and ferociously tempered) daughter

Katie
who plans to wed

Ray
(an inappropriate hulk with “strangler hands”) on

September 5, 2006

By which time … George, who is losing his mind as politely as he can, and Jean, who is shagging George’s ex-colleague, and Jamie, their gay son who cannot commit to his lover by inviting him to the wedding, and Katie who fears she really doesn’t love Ray … pray that their family madness proves to be nothing more than

a spot of bother.

Listen to an audio excerpt.

I enjoyed Mark Haddon’s A Spot of Bother very much, although I’m secretly pleased not to hear any more about Katie. She was a bad influence on my character. I shall try to be more like calm, dependable Ray from now on.

I finished reading Robert J. Wiersema’s novel this week, Before I Wake.

It’s the type of book that I really like. There’s a good story, it’s well-written, there’s something smart, clever or quirky going on. It definitely fits the bill.

I know Rob as a bookseller, but I’m very glad that he’s written such a fine novel. It gives me another good reason to buy him a drink.

Before I Wake is a very fine book indeed. It is the type of book I’d like to write. It has magic in all the right places.

Sherry is 3, she gets hit by a truck. It’s devasting to her parents, whose marriage is already on the rocks. When it come time to take Sherry off life support … nothing happens. She stays perfectly healthy. Like a sleeping child, she stays, unchanged, in the family living room. Until one day her nurse notices that her arthritis has disappeared. Her doctor is stunned. Sherry lies there like an angel. Is she an angel, a healer? The nurse brings over her sister, who is clearly on her last legs. Another miracle. The sister’s cancer goes into remission. These events set the stage for the rest of the novel. Long lines form of believers who want to be healed. Crowds of Christian protestors appear, determined to proclaim that Sherry is the devil’s work. There’s a long-standing battle of good and evil that’s also taking place in the heart of the driver of the truck.

Before I Wake is good for a read, but if there are any academically minded folks out there looking for a new novel to add to the CanLit curriculm, Before I Wake offers a lot to think about.

Here are some photos of the book launch from last week:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/somisguided/

I’ve just returned from the book launch for Robert J. Wiersema’s first published novel, Before I Wake. It was a bit of a private party at Railspur Alley Cafe and Bistro on Granville Island, which is a great local touristy sort of place but also an awesome Vancouver locale–public market, cool bistros and coffee shops. They have a rule on the island that there shall be no chain stores. It is a Starbucks-free zone.

The launch was good. Robert’s editor Kendall spoke about Rob and the recent reviews and the praise the book has received (recently reviewed in the Globe and Mail quite positively). Then Rob got up and talk a bit about being part of the Random House family and that that wasn’t a bad thing. (He mentioned to me later that the world rights have been sold to St. Martin’s Press, which should mean excellent things for this novel internationally.) Then he read the first couple of pages of the novel. Pages that are heart-wrenching. The story opens with Karen and Sherry crossing a busy road. Sherry is 3. There is an on-coming truck and Sherry runs into the same lane as the truck. Those opening pages are all about the guilt of looking away for a second, of how things could have been if …

I’m working my way through the first section of the book now but my first impression is this is the type of book I like. The writing is strong. There’s something quirky going on (in this case, a little bit of mystery and magical powers), and I’m not sure how it’s going to end.

I took some photos at the launch, none are spectacular but feel free to have a look.

I wasn’t really sitting is a good spot for photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/somisguided/

Jon McGregor is the author of If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things, which is one of my all-time favourite books. His second novel, So Many Ways to Begin, is out this fall from Bloomsbury UK.

What I loved about If Nobody Speaks was the narrative style. It was different and complex and lyrical. I wouldn’t call it experimental, but it certainly was no run of the mill novel. I resisted reading So Many Ways to Begin because one of the first comments I heard was that it was more of “a novel.” Not really what I was hoping for.

So Many Ways to Begin made the Booker longlist, which was announced a couple of weeks ago, and I know that he is coming to Vancouver to the writer’s festival. Two reasons to crack the spine so I dove into the book this weekend.

Overall I liked the novel. The narrative structure wasn’t as compelling as If Nobody Speaks, but it wasn’t entirely conventional either. There are nice looping storylines and you get the sense of spiraling in on the plot rather than following along in a linear fashion.

Without telling too much, the story is about David Carter, who grows up wanting to be a curator in a museum. He’s encouraged by his Aunt Julia, who later in the novel mistakenly mentions that David is adopted. Much of the novel is the circular way he tries to deal with wanting to meet his birth mother. The problem is that he was born during the Second World War, at a time when good English, Scottish and Irish girls were filling London to work, but also getting into a bit of pregnancy trouble. They didn’t exactly leave a lot of personal, identifying details behind.

The Garneau Block and its story of a “Let’s Fix It” campaign to save the neighbourhood is one of the funniest pieces of Canadiana I’ve read in a long time. The residents of this Edmonton neighbourhood are memorable for their quirkiness but are also reminiscent of the residents of Winnipeg and Vancouver–two places I’ve lived. If you’re looking for satire, local politics and humour, you’ll enjoy the book.

Babiak initially serialized the work in the Edmonton Journal, but the novel doesn’t read in a choppy way at all. There are no cliff hangers that ring false in the full, novel version. It’s just very funny–ridiculous at times but definitely believable.

I received an early copy as part of the M&S 100 Readers Club. Thank you M&S.

What’s the book about?
It’s a satirical look at life in a Canadian neighbourhood, in this case a fictional cul-de-sac in Edmonton’s Garneau neighbourhood. The neighbourhood has been rocked by the sudden death of one of its neighbours, and then mysterious signs appear on their trees. The signs read “Let’s Fix It.”

The neighbours are pretty funny. In some cases they are stock characters, the local wanna-be politician, the university professor, the shop owner, the single, pregnant woman, the leftist, the foreigner and the gay guy. But they’re never presented as 2-dimensional characters, each is quirky and crazy in a way that takes you deeper into the characters and closer to the realization that “hey, I know this person.”

I keep saying it’s funny. It is. Not slapstick but like parody or satire or Miss Marpole. Funny like that. I really enjoyed the read.

Check out The Garneau Block on Amazon.ca