Katie edwards
The Year of Less resonated with me tremendously, as I've been on a simple living journey for about a year. Through this book, Cait Flanders illustrates that clutter, debt, and weight gain are all symptoms of unresolved emotions and experiences. Through out her tale, she talks about how she spent money and collected items as a way to try to become the person she thought she should be. So much of our dissatisfaction in life comes back to trying to comfort ourselves with stuff. People say this isn't a how to book, but there is no simple way to break the cycle of buying as a way to soothe the soul. Clutter, simple living - there is no quick fix. It's hard work to understand why these things are in our lives. Flanders does an excellent job of demonstrating how hard it is to make the space that you need. I reccomend this book.
If you're looking for a how-to, step by step, I reccomend you read Becoming Minamalist by Joshua Becker, and Slow by Brooke McAlery. Once you're done with those, come back to this book.
I learned early on that reading the opinion pages of the newspaper was just spitting into the wind. You get so fed up to the point that you have to do something about it, and then you end up making it worse. Much of “What's the Matter with Kansas” was a play-by-play rehashing of the news stories that have helped make Kansas the laughing stock of the nation. While I find Frank's concept of “cultural backlash” interesting, it still doesn't answer the question of “why do rural people continue to elect politicians who don't act in their best interest.” Contrary to popular opinion, Kansans aren't so stupid as to have the wool continuously pulled over our eyes as this book alludes. I believe the answer to that question is much more complicated than “cultural backlash” alone. While I find the rural-urban dichotomy and the rampant fundamentalism in the heartland fascinating, after I finished this book all I felt like I had done was spit into the wind.
*Disclaimer: I'm one of the many college-educated Kansans who left the state in pursuit of a job, and I am not a fundamentalist in any way, shape, or form.
Finally someone who makes the X-Men as cool as cool as they were (okay almost!) as when Claremont was in control. This was refreshing after winding my way through the rehashings that was Essential X-Men Vols. 5 and 6.
I picked up this book because I heard the author read during LitQuake- and she's a really good reader. But when it came to actually reading her work myself, the flaws were tough to handle. There were moments that I wanted to strangle the heroine (who never really seemed to fit her name), because she was fawning and drooling over her mysterious partner. While San Francisco is a place that one could easily believe is inhabited by
Demons and vampires, the world never quite comes together in a coherent way. When the supernatural mystery is resolved and you think it's over, there's a bizarre non-epilogue epilogue. I think the author has potential but this book just didn't click for me.
Miss Julia is a fun protagonist, realizing her new identity when her husband unexpectedly dies. She's just getting used to the idea, when her late husband's mistress and their love child appear on her doorstep. Hijinks and intrigue ensue. I found her pastor's money-grubbing a little too extreme to be believable — that entire storyline was a bit offputting and an odd fit for the character, so I give the story 3 stars. It's a fun light read. I'll be adding Ann B. Ross to my list of authors to pick up when I need a break from heavier things.
This slow going tribute to the flagraisers of Iwo Jima seems unremarkable at first, but captures the story of all WWII vets in the final chapter.
Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict is a fun bit of fluff, but all too often the main character did something that jarred me out of the flow of the narrative. I found myself mentally saying “seriously?” over and over again. It's chick lit for when you need a brain break, nothing more.
While most of the recipes in this book are far beyond my cooking caliber, the essays were wonderful. I felt like I was standing in the kitchen of a good friend, savoring the smells.
Dies the Fire is set in a US where “something” happens and electricity and guns no longer work. It's a solid post-apocalyptic book that compels you to keep reading. However, I had trouble keeping track of all the characters - some of who were really interchangeable. Also, I have a hard time believing that there are THAT many people who would know how to sword-fight in the Willamette Valley. It's good, but I'm not feeling that compelled to finish the rest of the series.
This was a refreshing entry in the chick lit genre. It sucked me in to an earlier time in the Americas and reminded me why Louisa May Alcott's biography was one of my favorites as a girl. If I had been McNees editor, I would have pushed her on some of the rather simplistic characters, especially given how much historical information is available on the Alcotts and their friends. If you're looking for a short romantic escape from today's world, this is right up your alley.
I was looking for some YA lit to take on a trip with me, and I stumbled upon this one. I give this four stars for the ending and epilogue. The protagonist is just okay, and the macguffins are highly visible. The way we glimpsed the depth of evil present in the world beyond the maze is fascinating and I want to see how Dashner continues to develop the world.
Great read - a civilization goes under ground to survive an “event,” but it's been so long that people have forgotten why they went under ground. The city begins to die and the families are forced to challenge their status quo and find a new way of life.
Although Kel is my favorite of Tamora Pierce's heroines, Beka Cooper is fast in second place. I love the author's strong,female heroine and the strong, supportive men that surround them as they fight injustice. The Provost Hound series is much more mystery-like than many of Pierce's previous books which really focus on building the legends of the world. I'd give it to any of the self-rescuing princesses in my life.
The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat is a fun book, and the only reason it's not a four-star book is because the POV switches made it hard to keep track of which Supreme was narrating. The story takes place in small town Southern Indiana (points for name-checking Indy), and follows three best friends back and forth from high school to death's doorstep. Each woman has her own cross to bear, and all three of the story lines are dotted with crazy characters - my favorites were actually dead, the ghosts of Odette's mother and Eleanor Roosevelt. Yes, THE Eleanor Roosevelt. It's a fun, light read, but you might want a crib sheet to keep the Supremes straight.
I wish I could give half stars, so I could put this at a solid 3.5.
I liked several things about this book:
-It was told from the four girls point of view, primarily. Each chapter switched between the girls, with a few guest chapters from their mother. The girls' voices were well developed, with interesting little details, like misspelled/misunderstood words in the oldest daughter's chapters.
-The accelerated pace at the end of the book was really compelling, as you went through the girls' adult lives.
-African culture was shown as rational and important, more so as the story evolved. The setting was almost its own character.
I didn't like:
-The length. About page 250, I felt like I should be done with the book-but it felt like we hadn't really gotten past the first plot point.
-The parents' stories were underdeveloped. While we got some glimpses into the mother's mind, the father never got his own chance to speak. I may be okay with representing the father as a villain, but I'm not okay with the short shrift the mother got.
-Some of the leaps the story took seemed unreasonable.
Overall it was a good story, but not one that I'd recommend with abandon. You have to be in a good state of mind and be ready for a reading marathon. I will, however, be reading more of Barbara Kingsolver's fiction, because it was excellently written.
I was hoping for something a little more in-depth, but as I read it, I felt like I was being talked down to. I'm not certain what I was expecting, but give me more than a 6th-grade reading level and bizarre illustrations...
I liked the premise of this book - I mean, why not open a retirement home in India? My problem what that the ensemble of characters was too big. I had Ravi and Dr. Rama mixed up for a long time, and Evelyn and Madge and Muriel all run together. The book didn't give me enough touchstones to distinguish the characters from one another. I kept thinking we would follow the story of one or two characters, and then the story line would switch to someone else. It was too distracting for my tastes.
I love Neil Gaiman's work because I know that he's going to create a world that's slightly unsettling, with terrifying villains. Neverwhere follows Richard Mayhew, from Upper London, on a grand adventure to London Below when he rescues Door, a damsel dealing quite capably with an attempt on her life and the death of her entire family. Once sucked into the chaotic world of London Below, Richard bumbles along, managing to keep himself alive and contribute to Door's quest to find the Angel Islington who knows what happened to her family. Neverwhere is great fun, keeping you on the edge of your seat, because you never know who the grand villain is and where he/she/it will pop up next.