This is a spectacularly written book, focusing on the lives of three primary characters. While the characters might never all be in a scene at one time, nonetheless, they are all entwined with one another. M

My only complaint, and I’m not sure it’s valid as a complaint, is the amount of the book that is delivered to the reader before I can see any of the connections between the characters. And even after finishing it, I am wondering if I go back and reread it, will I see the connections as I do now (a bit too late, a bit too topical for the amount of time I’ve invested in the book)? Or will I catch glimpses, hints and shadows of the connections that I wasn’t careful enough to see the first time through?

Either way, Chaon is able to piece together a complex story about identity. One which deserves to be cherished… especially in how modern an exploration it is on what identity is. Await Your Reply includes references to many aspects of identity is today… they may be superficial to some readers (such as hair color and facebook) but it created a world more real and encompassing to this reader.

For any reader passionate about music, science fiction, love, loss, Orson Scott Card, or any combination of attributes, this is a must read.

This is the story of Ansett, a boy with a voice unmatched by any in history. We are taken through his childhood, in both a school setting and as a placement to the most powerful man in the universe. We are carried through his inability to connect, despite an amazing ability to communicate. We are shown his final ability to love, and all of the pain that comes with that ability.

I was saddened by the plot turns which propelled a punishment for a certain kind of love, but was grateful for the tact with which it was handled in the story line. At the same time, I found the discussion of serial relationships compared with simultaneous loves to be a breath of fresh air. (Neither is a main plot point in the novel, but both jumped out at me, regardless.)

Despite all of the pain and punishment that Ansett must endure in this story, the ending is a sweet one for me. For the look to the future at Ansett’s death, what he has been able to leave behind, both in political and emotional senses, I was able to take primarily hope away from this story.

While Beautiful Losers is a fascinating read, it was not exactly a page turner for this reader. Yes, there are faults in my reading patterns, so I am sure that I should have gotten more from it, had I been able to concentrate fully… but this felt more like three hundred pages of poetry than it did a novel. Images were stunning, passages lyrical, images burned into my soul. Plot was convoluted and characters with only voice and little in the way of body filled the pages.

After my first experience with the authorship of Cohen, I will be sure to scour the used book store racks for more. I will buy them and hold them, and be ready to absorb myself in them fully before I take on the task of another of his books.

I like the challenge of books like this, but all readers should be ready to tackle the intricacies of Cohen before cracking one of his books. I’ll be better prepared next time, I hope.

I am a huge fan of fairytale stories, and this novel does an excellent job of finishing the story of the Seven Swans, focusing on the boy who is left with one swan wing and one human arm. Ardwin is a boy who wants happiness, and he is dedicated to achieving it. He finds ways to do everything the two armed boys can, often surpassing their skills. He wants to be in control of his life, as he has been given both a handicap and a strength he had no choice in.

There are plenty of moments of joy in this story, just as there are moments of pain. The confrontation between Ardwin and his sister who did not complete the seventh thistle shirt in time is a prime example. How Rose Red feels guilt, and at the same time, anger toward not being thanked fully for her attempt at complete savior of Ardwin has a spotlight in this novel, which I greatly appreciated.

Yes, as all fairy tales do, this one ended with quite a contrite “Happily Ever After.” I’m not sure I would have wanted it any other way. Yes, there are moments of “too easy” from a story line perspective, falling into the trap of fate and someone’s greater plan But it fits in the mold of every other fairy tale out there.

It was a fun read, beautiful and lyrical at times, but still with maintenance of the plot. While I wouldn’t necessarily suggest it for all age groups (as there are plenty of graphic images of blood and death) any child who can accept the original Grimm’s tale can accept this completion.

The Well and the Mine is a story that starts with a mystery, but becomes more about learning that life is full of compromises in your world view. Each character is fully fledged, with their own specific voice and takes on the world, which wraps you up in each of them. Most authors have difficulty getting one voice to be so strong, and Gin Phillips is able to make five voices stand out from one another.

This is a book that was able to sweep me away to a time and place that is not my own, make me appreciate the culture and the needs of a family so foreign to my own.

While the ending is less than full force, I think it makes the novel that much more powerful. Sometimes life is life, sometimes you need to sit back and think, contemplate, wonder. Sometimes you need to take steps to correct the path life is on, and sometimes, you need to learn the path is just the path, and be satisfied with it.

Of all the Hallmark Holidays, Mother’s Day is by far my favorite. Granted, I am a mother, so I might be a bit biased. But I take the fully blown appreciation when I can get it.

The weekend has been beautiful, and despite some conflict because of all the stuff that still needs to be done, all the money that still needs to be spent, and all the waiting that still needs to be suffered through for the condo sale, it’s been a good Mother’s Day Weekend.

The boys brought home gifts from daycare (one of my favorite parts of the whole daycare experience is the ample supply of crafts we get to cherish - and then um, *cough* lose), and I enjoyed pretending to not be able to see through the tissue wrapping paper until this morning.

Gabe was a picture of himself (far from the most flattering of my baby boy) holding a sign saying he loved me. His handprints are on either side. Baby handprints break my heart. I loved it much.

Hayden’s was even better. I got a picture of roses. The petals we his handprints, the stems were his arms, the thorns were his thumbprints. (This explains the laundry I did this week.) I also got a picture of him, with his name and a sticker rampage done by the amateur artist himself. (To my knowledge, he hasn’t made any money off of his masterpieces yet.)

I was reminded what it meant to be a mother, as the first thing Hayden said to me this morning was, “Have you washed my Power Rangers shirt yet, Momma?” Though, the spontaneous hugs and kisses have helped much to remind me of that role, too.

The trip to the local zoo went smoothly, even if the stroller wasn’t much help. Gabe is much more independent than Hayden was at this point in his life, and he wants little to do with the restriction of the stroller. I love being a member, as we got there 10 minutes after opening, spent $0, and left with no remorse for not having seen every animal.

Now, naptime is a bit bumpy, but I think I’m going to go read to Gabe. I’m thoroughly enjoying the novel I am reading to him right now. (Birdwing - a story based on the fairy tale of the seven brothers turned into swans.)

I’m smiling just thinking of reading to him, which means it is time to sign off.

This is one of the best memoir concepts I have ever had the pleasure to read. How does an agnostic man deal with every rule he finds within the pages of the Old and New Testaments? And how does his wife deal with him?

The answer, with humor, compassion, and a further appreciation of what he can’t know in this world (and the wife does the same, as far as I am concerned). A.J. Jacobs follows his mission to some interesting places, sharing insight from those religious fanatics who tend to be given only superficial roles in people’s examinations of belief. (Snake Handlers, especially… though the experiences with the Evangelicals Concerned - a group of homosexuals who are also evangelical Christians was a close second for me.)

No, A.J. Jacobs does not accept Christ into his heart, nor does he determine that he is comfortable with Orthodox Judaism. But he does find himself more appreciative of life, more willing to give thanks for anything and everything, more accepting of all of the interpretations of the bible - especially those he can’t reconcile in his own mind.

The final pages of his memoir are poignant. Yes, every believer is a “Cafeteria Believer,” picking and choosing the rules and guidelines he feels best fit with his idea of the good life. After over a year of not allowing himself to be such a believer (instead being forced to sample just about everything from the Judeo-Christian smorgasbord by his commitment to live the bible literally) he tends toward the “nurturing dishes (compassion), the healthy ones (love thy neighbor), not the bitter ones.”

While he doesn’t come out ans specify what exactly he sees as the bitter dishes offered by the bible, my take is that the bible itself isn’t bitter. You just need to be careful of who is salting the dish before serving you a plate.

The Last Bridge is certainly a dark book, full of one family’s skeletons, but it is written with grace and was cherished by this reader. Cat is a woman who has to learn to take care of herself, and when no one in her world has been able to do so (not a mother, not a big brother, certainly not a father) she turns to alcohol as her only support network. This choice does not lead to success, and most of her story is heavy with flight rather than dealing with her past. Often in stories such as this, I find myself yelling at the main character, asking her to suck it up and get on with her life already. Not so with this work. Here, I was drawn into the pain of Cat’s life, finding myself understanding all of her poor choices, and realizing she had other options, but not growing tired of her inability to make stronger decisions.

This is the story of Cat’s pain, and and her final realization that she can gain back some power over her own life, though, so readers need to be forewarned that it is a gloomy, depressing, and heartbreaking novel. Be ready to be sucked into her world, to have pain well up within you, to cheer for her, but to feel moments of disappointment in her, too. Coyne writes the story of Cat so well that I was able to appreciate the disappointment as necessary to the story, rather than being irritated by it.

As an avid fan of just about all things zombie, this is a gem of a book. The story of Andy, a new zombie, working through plenty of emotional turmoil (the loss of his wife to death, the loss of his daughter to circumstance, the gain of his parents as legal guardians again and a new found way of life - or unlife, rather) and how he expresses himself through the process of rediscovering himself was a joy to read.

The exploration of the zombie’s perspective was original, humorous, and intelligent, just the way I like my books - be they classics or pulp. Throughout the novel, I felt as though I was connected with Andy and could appreciate his take on the situations. The voice was fresh, even if the descriptions were of rotting flesh.

High praise goes to this debut novel. This is an author I will search out in the future.

One mother’s take on a weary look at motherhood.

Not every garden is a bed of roses, and motherhood is filled with thorns and weeds, most definitely.

Thank you, Julie, for focusing on the beauty of motherhood.

All of us, though, need to remember that those women who can’t (either economically or mentally) be the type of mother you are, are NOT less of a mother. Each of us has to make our own way, meeting the needs of ourselves and our children.

Bravo to you who are stay at homes and have the sanity for it. Bravo to those of you work full time and still make home-cooked meals seven days of the week. And Bravo to us who ask the child, “Please, be okay with Mickey D’s tonight. I don’t have the energy even for Bisquick pancakes.”

If we love the children, and can see highlights from them in our lives, we are mothers to be cherished.