TWIB: 14th Edition

 

Palabras Bilingual Bookstore sits in an older urban neighborhood
threatened by gentrification, just north of downtown Phoenix

    PHOENIX, Ariz. -- In this desert city in the western United States, I discovered a diverse collection of bookstores.

    Although generally a conservative place, history might give a reason for this -- it was colonized by the Spaniards, became an eventual settlements for many of North America's indigenous populations who were driven from their more eastern or southern lands, and was the migration point of enslaved people after the U.S. Civil War -- by some estimates 25 percent of cowboys were Black.

    Later, as the city's population exploded with white residents, the Latino population continue to lead the pack, with the Black and Asian population also increasing. Today, the non-white population comprises 57 percent of the city's population. 

My TBR stack from Arizona

    My first stop was at Palabras Bilingual Bookstore, off downtown in a place known as Casa Caracol, which includes a small café and Andria's Tienda. It was love at first sight.

    I really had to stop myself after gathering a number of new tomes, including Old School Indian, by Aaron John Curtis, the tale of a Native American -- a Kanien'kehá:ka from Ahkwesáhsne -- who left the reservation when he turned 18 and returned 25 years later, suffering from a rare disease and a failed marriage, and persuaded to undergo a tribal remedy. I also grabbed The Body Farm, by Abby Geni, a collection of short stories about people's relationships with their bodies.

    I moved on to Grassrootz Books and Juice Bar, a Black- and worker-owned place in Eastlake Park, also near downtown, which includes shops featuring African and African-American art and clothing. It was another delight, full of books I would love to read but know I could find in few other places.

    There, I bought All Eyes are Upon Us, by Jason Sokol, a history of Black life and politics in the northeastern United States, an area often considered amenable to but also showing a hostility to civil rights. A Man Called Horse, by Glennette Tilley Turner, tells us about the life and times of John Horse, who founded and ran the Black Seminole Underground Railroad. Trees, by the superb Percival Everett, weaves a story of magical realism when he tells what could happen if Black men and woman who were brutally lynched and slaughtered throughout U.S. history somehow rose again and turned the tables on their killers.

    I moved on to the Poisoned Pen, a shop over in the wealthy suburb of Scottsdale that specialized in mysteries both cozy and dark. Here, I found tales by two Irish writers. Northern Ireland's Stuart Neville, dubbed "the king of Belfast noir," brings us The House of Ashes, about a hapless family that moves from England back to Northern Ireland into a house with an, shall we say, interesting history. And the always compelling Colum McCann pens Twist, a story that introduces us to the men who repair broken underwater cables, and winds up delving into the sum of human existence.

    My final stop was a place called Changing Hands Bookstore, at the base of Camelback Mountain. It's a bookstore and a bar. Or a bookstore with a bar. Or, perhaps a bar with an attached bookstore. I'm really not sure -- and hell, does it matter? It was a fun place to visit.

    So not only did I but a T-shirt, but I found a few books to add to the collection, inclding The Children of Jocosta, by Natalie Haynes. She is one of the best writers in the re-told Greek myths genre, and this is one of her earlier tales. She's also a scholar, broadcaster and comedienne, but, truth be told, her writings are her best work, including several non-fiction discussions about women in Greek mythology. Finally, The Possibility of Life, by Jaime Green, is a look at the search for and the possibility of finding life out there in the vast universe.

Book Review: The Book of Doors

 By Gareth Brown

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Fantasy, magical realism

• Where I bought this book: Enchanted Novelties, Harrison, Ohio. 

• Why I bought this book: The story's concept is intriguing 

• Bookmark used: Volumes Bookstore, Chicago    

 *****

    One of the many problems with incorporating the idea of time travel into your novel is that it is inherently inconsistent. You cannot get around the fact that travel into the past is impossible. You can ignore that and claim that your characters are unable to change their present, because if that is so, what's the point? And you can ignore the idea of a djinn particle -- which allows for items to exist in a time loop, never having been invented. 

    So, you just fudge it, and let things happen without explaining them. It may cause confusion, but hey, it's just a novel, right? Don't take it too seriously.

    But in The Book of Doors, Brown wants to be taken seriously. He wants to explore the ideas of existence, of love and hate, of goodness and evil. But he leaves several big, gaping holes in his story -- such as the existence of different versions of the same person living in the same time dimension, with nothing untoward happening.

     He suffers from the flaws of many debut novels -- wanting to cram too much into the story and the writing, and not knowing when to quit.

    It's not a flawless read, but it's okay for something to sit down with on a cold winter's night.

    Here's the concept: Cassie, an unexceptional young woman who loves books, has moved to New York City and taken a job in a bookstore. She lives with a roommate, Izzy, who is far more outgoing and gregarious. One fateful evening, Mr. Webber, an older man she has befriended, dies in the store and leaves her a mysterious book.

    It's the Book of Doors, and among its scribbled texts and sketched images is a note explaining that using it means "any door is every door." Mr. Webber's added note says she  should "enjoy the places it takes you to and the friends you find there."

    But of course there is more to the book, and Cassie gets caught up in a whirlwind that threatens not only her life, and Izzy's life, but the lives of the people she meets, and, indeed, the very existence of time and space itself.

    She'll discover, through the friends and foes she meets -- including the Librarian and the Bookseller -- the enormity of what she had gotten herself into. It's truly an overwhelming adventure, not only for Cassie, Izzy, and their band of others, but for the reader. It's also a but gruesome at times.

    The characters are a mélange of the nice, the creepy, and the tropes. One, known only as "the woman," is macabre beyond measure. Another, an evil sort who gets tossed into the Old West, returns decades later as a cliche, and I half-expected him to declare himself the rootinest, tootinest cowboy in the west.

    It'll carry you along, fer sure, but only if you squint hard and don't ask too many questions.

Book Review: Gwendy's Magic Feather

  By Richard Chizmar

• Pub Date: 2019

• Where I bought this book: Household Books,  Cincinnati. 

• Why I bought this book: I found this really cool, locally owned bookstore in my hometown, and felt I had to buy something. This was it.

 ******

    So, I had read the first and third installments of this trilogy because Stephen King co-wrote those two. Both were good stories, well told. 

    My review of Gwendy's Button Box is here, and Gwendy's Final Task is here.

    I really did not intend to read this middle chapter, because it wasn't essential, and I was unfamiliar with the author. But when I found it in this well-curated bookstore that was part of an under-served neighborhood near mine, well, I had to support it.

    It's nice. Well written. It fits in well to the overall story. It fleshes out the details of Gwendy Peterson, the girl we met as a young teen-ager when a strange man gives her this mysterious, other-worldly button box, who is now a young U.S. Congresswoman from Maine. The button box gives rewards, can cause real pain -- up to and including Armageddon -- and has a strange pull on those who watch over it.

    It's a King creation, through and through. But as King notes in his forward, Chizmar saved the first book from oblivion, and wrote a large role in the third. On his own in the second, Chizmar does a workman-like job, giving Wendy another opportunity to do well. 

    Gwendy becomes what we expected in book one. She's the same person, only older and wiser. But the writing and story have the same flaws as the other two books: Some long-winded, drawn out, unnecessarily long scenes, lots of tropes, and filler (see, it's not just King who does all that). 

    But overall, it's a decent read.

This Week in Books, 11th Ed.

 Grand Opening of a New Local Bookstore

    We have a new bookstore that opened here in Northern Kentucky. Okay, it's not exactly new, but it is the second location of our wonderful Roebling Books & Coffee.

    

    

    Let me repeat! We have a new bookstore location in Northern Kentucky. It's two miles from my house, and a block away from where I work. This might be dangerous.

    It opened Saturday, Nov. 27, which coincidentally is Small Business Saturday. It's at Sixth and
Overton in Newport's East Row neighborhood, a little more than a mile from its main store near the Roebling Suspension Bridge in Covington. So it's a local business -- and a bookstore. Everything is right about this.

    It being Opening Day, it was a little short on stock -- but heavy on coffee and tea, and atmosphere, and comfortable chairs, and wonderful art and antiques throughout. It's so much more than a bookstore.

    It's a local cafe. It's a community meeting center, fitting for its location in a residential neighborhood. It's a place to browse, to find new books, to explore new ideas. It is using a new way to present books -- with their covers facing out, giving them room to show off, to present their best selves, to speak to you, the reader.

    And a slow browse gives you the opportunity to listen, to hear the book call out to you, to whisper what it has to offer. Maybe it's a new experience, presenting a new culture, or showing new way of looking at life. Maybe it's a salve for a troubled soul. It might be a gift for a treasured friend.

    Or maybe it's promising a magical tale, a tour from the faeries into another dimension, a read to remember. What spoke to me was A Darker Shade of Magic, from V.E. Schwab, a wonderful writer who also penned The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.

    

This Week in Books, 10th Ed.

   An excursion north

     I have written before about the Book Loft in Columbus, Ohio. It's a great place, filled with small rooms full of books that are hard to find elsewhere. That is why I spent Memorial Day adding to my TBR Stack.

    Some of the books bought were recommendations from my fellow book fans who joined me on this trip. A few were ones I have had my eye out for. And a few were spur-of-the-moment decisions.

 

The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. Le Guin

    She has long been a favorite. She is not only a great writer of science fiction, but is "a literary icon," as the author Stephen King described her.

    

    Anyway, I heard about this novel on a podcast called "Fast Forward," which is about topics that might arise in the future. (It's great. You should listen to it. Its host, Rose Eveleth, has the perfect podcast voice, and I am in love with it.) During a show about space flight and labor law, and what living and working on another planet might entail, the host mentioned this book. So I bought it. It was the least I could do.  

The House in the Cerulean Sea, by T.J. Klune

    Look at that book cover! That should be enought reason to pick it up.

    Not only that, but the title has the word "cerulean." We need to use that colorful word more often. Says Merriam-Webster: "Cerulean comes from the Latin word caeruleus, which means 'dark blue' and is most likely from 'caelum,' the Latin word for 'sky.' An artist rendering a sky of blue in oils or watercolors might choose a tube of cerulean blue pigment. Birdwatchers in the eastern United States might look skyward and see a cerulean warbler." 

    What's it about? Who knows? But it's described as "being wrapped in a big gay blanket."

The Midnight Library, by Matt Haig

    This was recommended by Corina Fay, a teacher and one of my companions on this trip. Listen, when a teacher tells you to read a book, you read it.

    The book's description says that "between life and death there is a library." And this library allows the book's protagonist to change the course of other lives by changing her decisions. Of course, knowing this might make the choices harder. 

    Still, she should make those decisions. 

Girl A, by Abigail Dean

    I have had this one on my to-buy list for quite a while. I found it. So I picked it up.

    Based on a true story, it tells the tale of a girl -- known as Girl A in media accounts -- who grew up in her family's "house of horrors" before managing to flee and save her five siblings. When their mother dies in prison years later, the children must come to grips with their traumatic Despite the raw subject matter, I am told it's a novel one can rip through in a couple of days. A blurb calls it "gripping and beautifully written." What more could one ask for?

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, by V.S. Schwab

    Another friend and bibliophile, scientist Melissa Mann, and I were discussing the fluidity of time, and she recommended this novel. She even pointed out the shelf it was sitting on.

    I did not know this, but Schwab is one of the great science fiction writers of our time. In this novel, her protaganist and title character is immortal -- with the catch that every year on her birthday, she jumps into another skin and time. No one remembers her former self.

    Which of course, leads to the awful blurb: "A life no one will remember. A story you will never forget." But an author does not write her own blurbs. So I forgave her and bought the book.

The Kingdoms, by Natasha Pulley

    The book blurb describes it as a "genre-bending feat (that) masterfully combines history, speculative fiction, queer romance, and more." So I have to ask, how could you pass this one up?

    Oh, you want more? It also bends time.

    Actually picking up this novel was a mistake. I was going for another book, but grabbed this one instead. It spoke to me.

The Elephant of Belfast, by S. Kirk Walsh 

    It has an elephant. In Belfast. Industrial, gritty, urban Belfast.

    It also has Loyalist Protestants and Republican Catholics continuing their long feud over a small piece of Ireland. 

    Then World War II happened. And life went on.

Book Review: The Last Taxi Driver

 The Last Taxi Driver, by Lee Durkee

    I picked up this book because of the cover and the title: I saw it in the bookstore. I liked the cover -- it was bright yellow. I smiled at the title. I read the synopsis. I laughed. I bought it.

      It's one of the many reasons I browse in real bookstores as opposed to buying online. I never know what I'm looking for until I find it.

    Anyway. I was right about the book. It's enticing. It's funny. It's worth a read.

    Lou works as a cabbie in a small town in northern Mississippi filled with obnoxious frat boys, drug dealers, and desperately poor people. His employer is one of the last legitimate taxi companies around -- although its owner is a conniving fool who seems to dedicate her life to making her drivers miserable. But Uber is coming -- which will make the drivers even more miserable and anxious, with even less control over their down-and-out lives.

    So Lou muddles through his 12-hour shifts, shuffling drunks and meth-heads and old people on their last legs to low-paying jobs, hospital visits, and liquor runs in a city without public transportation. And Lou has his own problems: He's a failed college teacher (one semester) and novelist (one book, rarely to be found). He's looking for an excuse to get his no-longer girlfriend to move out, while narrating his lonely, melancholy life.

    He's really good at the narrating. And the loneliness. And the melancholy. And his undisguised despair at the town he lives in and how it forces people to live lives of -- as the philosopher once said -- quiet desperation.

    Consider this passage about the only Black Republican man in town -- who spends his days guarding the Confederate statute in the town square, while getting routinely beat up for his troubles.

Clem ended up meeting a Black woman at some Tea Party gathering who was also into the rebel flag -- there's somebody for everyone -- and they became a couple until one night, driving home from a rally, the two of them became convinced somebody was following their truck. Clem called the police -- 911 recorded the whole incident -- then he sped up, lost control of his pickup, ran off a bridge into the Tallahatchie River, and the two of them drowned together in that river without anybody ever writing them a song.

    Gems like that make one keep reading. So does his chapter of tips for the budding cab driver: Don't project your prejudices on the people you encounter while driving. Having a penis doesn't make one an awesome driver. Never fuck with anybody driving a Dodge Charger, Don't take selfies at red lights.

    There's more, but you'll have to buy the book to read them. Get thee immediately to your local bookstore and do so.

This Week in Books, 9th Ed.

When I first saw Parnassus Books -- the independent Nashville bookstore co-owned by writer Ann Patchett and named after a Greek mountain that was home to the Muses -- I was a tad disappointed. It looked like your basic suburban bookstore, located next to a paint store in a strip shopping mall that also is home to a Chipotle and a Vitamin Shoppe.

But once inside during my visit this weekend, I re-discovered how wrong first impressions could be. It's a wonderful place -- comfortable, well designed, and full of interesting people and helpful workers. I saw several books being promoted as outstanding works that I already have read and enjoyed, both confirming my taste and that of the staff.

And the books! I planned to buy one or two, and would up working out with a half-dozen. Of course, I had to pick up the owner's latest, The Dutch House, which will rise high on my TBR stack. Then I grabbed another book on my planned reading list -- Red at the Boone, by Jacqueline Woodson. Bonus! It's signed by the author.

The additions to the stack

So already I was winning.

The bookstore is subtlety subversive and feminist. It contains more than the average number of books by and about women. Numerous books in the children's section are about empowering girls. Many of the featured books are by female authors.

And it works. As I strolled over to the new and interesting books pile, I discovered The Bookish Life of Nina Hill, by Abbi Waxman. I had never heard of this novel before, but when you chuckle and recognize yourself in the book's description, it's a clear sign from Apollo to put it in your bag.

The only child of a single mother, Nina has her life just as she wants it: a job in a bookstore, a kick-butt trivia team, and a cat named Phil. If she sometimes suspects there might be more to life than reading, she just shrugs and picks up a new book. When the father Nina never knew existed dies, leaving behind innumerable sisters, brothers, nieces, and nephews, Nina is horrified. They all live close by. They are all -- or mostly all -- excited to meet her. She will have to ... Speak. To. Strangers.

So you can see why that one will be good.

Two more books somehow found their way into my bag: Night Boat to Tangiers, by Irish author Kevin Barry; and Going the Distance, by William Steele, a biography of the late Canadian writer, W.P. Kinsella, who is one of my favorite authors.

And by the way guys who checked me out. Your recommendation for the Sunflower Cafe in South Nashville was spot on. I thoroughly enjoyed my vegetarian meal there.

This Week in Books, 8th Ed.

Rambling through a bookstore

One of the joys of wandering among the shelves of an old bookstore is a lack of people. Oh, perhaps you see the occasional fellow book fiend studying the titles, but for the most part you are alone with your thoughts and your fictional friends.

Then there is the Book Loft of German Village, a rambling independent bookstore in neighborhood near downtown Columbus, Ohio.

The entrance to the Book Loft

The stacks of fiction
 along a narrow hallway

A staircase lined
 with promotional photos

Most bookstores are large and airy, inside one large room. This one is not.

Many bookstores -- especially those of the chain variety -- are enclosed in modern glass and steel. This one does not fit that description.

They are in suburban shopping malls, surrounded by large parking lots. Usually, you'll find similar stores in similar buildings nearby -- a Panera, an office supply store, and most likely a Starbucks.

But the Book Loft is tucked away in an urban neighborhood. The entrance is a garden, and the store itself resembles a bunch of older homes that were renovated and smashed together. Yes, there is a coffee shop next door, which is part of a small, local chain, Stauf's Coffee.

The Book Loft boasts 32 rooms. Outside are tables full of books on sale, along with the racks of remainders. I arrived with my daughter in the early afternoon on a sunny weekend, when the Ohio State Buckeyes were thankfully playing out of town -- the university and the 100,000-seat stadium is about five miles away along city streets.

So after a vegan lunch, we made our way over, entered through the garden gate, and strolled up the walk.  It's a wonderful place, with surprises up every flight of stairs and around every corner. Each room has a theme, but you are likely to find random stacks of books in random places, so you have to meander all over the place, just in case you might miss something.

The fiction section takes up several rooms, and arranged along narrow hallways lined with bookcases. I found several novels that just came out, one that isn't scheduled to come out until next month (I said nothing, and bought it), and a sports book I've been seeking for a while.

Last Night in Montreal, by Emily St. John Mandel. Because I read Station Eleven and loved it.

The Immortalists, by Chloe Benjamin. It asks the question, how would you live if you knew the day you would die. Sounded intriguing.

On the Come Up, by Angie Thomas. The story of a young black girl who really wants -- needs -- to become a rap star. It's been on the TBR list for a while.

After the Miracle: The Lasting Brotherhood of the '69 Mets, by Art Shamsky. The Mets. 1969. 'nuff said.

The Testaments, by Margaret Atwood. Doesn't everyone want to read this?

Akin, by Emma Donaghue. Another of my favorite writers, and I mistakenly thought it wasn't due out until next month, so it was a bonus when I saw it.

The Institute, by Stephen King. He has his own bookcase -- not just a mere bookshelf -- in my library.

This week in Books 6th Ed.

TBR's Stephen King
bookcase

So, I finally persuaded my daughter to give Stephen King a shot. She doesn't like horror. I kept telling her King is much more than a horror writer

We have shared books since she was in her late teens. When she comes home now, we often go straight to my library, where I offer some suggestions, and she can browse for more. At times, she'll recommend a book for me. It works for us.

She's a runner (a good one, I might add; a Boston qualifier). So I gave her Elevation, telling her it had a running story arc that was well done. It's one of King's shorter works, so it's a quick read. Here is my review.

She liked, it. No, she loved it. I am happy, although not surprised. It is a good read.

The best description of King is that he puts regular people in abnormal situations. I think King's strength as as writer is simple: He writes well, has great characters, and tells a helluva story. What more could you want? Despite his reputation, he's not solely a writer of horror, which I've always seen as bloody, slasher stuff. Instead, he's a writer of the supernatural -- the paranormal, if you will.

Anyway, now I have to decide what King work to suggest next. Perhaps one of his earlier works -- perhaps Dead Zone, which could be appropriate in the current political climate? Or perhaps a later work, Sleeping Beauties, which he co-wrote with his son, Owen King? It hits the high points of a King book, and I credit Owen King with taking out some of King's flaws, particularly his weakness in crafting a credible ending.

As for the TBR stack: It's getting bigger after a trip to a local bookstore this past week. I found three books that weren't even on the horizon:

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek tells the fictionalized tale of the first travelling library in Kentucky (my home), and how one of the (real-to-life) blue people of Kentucky was its librarian. They Said it Couldn't be Done is about a time I remember well from growing up in New York City in the summer and fall of '69, when man landed on the moon and the Mets won the World Series. Fifty years later, I cannot read enough about the latter. And Washington Black continues my excursion into books by and about people of color. This one tells the story of an 11-year-old field slave who becomes his master's brother's servant, and their ever-changing relationship. It was nominated in 2018 for the Man Booker prize, always a great place to find a good read.

This Week in Books, 5th Ed.

So. I found this list of new Irish writers in The Irish Times book section, and I have a sneaking suspicions I will be buying several of the selections. Their books may be hard to find here in the states, but I do have several options on the interwebs that do not include Amazon!!!  I am not a big fan of the megalith, mainly for its work helping to destroy local bookstores.

Indeed, several of my internet choices are local bookstores, even though they may be thousands of miles away. I define "local" rather broadly. figuring it's local somewhere. Right?

Adding to the stack

 Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson;
Dreyer's English, by Benjamin Dreyer;
and Song of Achilles, by Madeline Miller

Speaking of local bookstores, I went to one this weekend and bought these,  which will be going in The Stack. >>>

^^^ Also, my daughter added to the stack by recommending Wife of the Gods, by Ghanaian author Kwei Quartey. Because one of my goals this year is to read more writers of color, it's a good choice, and I am looking forward to it.

<<< Then there was this run of about 5.5 miles along the muddy trails and up the Stone Steps at Mt. Airy Park in Cincinnati on a cold but sunny Saturday. You can see me there in the middle, I climbed to the top of those steps, which rise 276 feet over the span of a quarter mile, a grade that averages 20 percent.

That sharp rise in the middle? That's the Stone Steps