The Girl Who Chased the Moon by Sarah Addison Allen

I would describe myself as a fairly cautious reader. When it comes to violence, language, or sex, I tread carefully and usually stop or skip if it looks like it's going somewhere I don't feel comfortable with. I rarely read a book without it first being recommended to me by someone I trust. As intriguing as the find-the-most-captivating-cover-on-the-library-shelves method sounds, I just can't do it. Choosing blindly leaves me tense as a reader, wondering what kind of content is lurking just around the next page.

So it was with joy that I found this list of "Clean Romances" on Teri Harman's blog. Teri is a Utah blogger and author, and I've really enjoyed the segments (like this one) she's put together on Studio 5. Anyway, I was so excited to see The Girl Who Chased the Moon by Sarah Addison Allen featured on this list. I had been wanting to read something by Allen for quite some time, and the label "clean romance" was just the green light I needed.

In her introduction to this list, Teri assured, "All of these books are free of graphic/descriptive sex scenes," and then she added the disclaimer, "In a few of the books sex occurs, but it is only mildly described or happens 'off-stage.'"

This...was not the case. (But more on that later...)

After her mother dies, 17-year-old Laura comes to live with her grandfather in small town Mullaby, North Carolina. Early on, she finds the town prejudiced against her because of secrets surrounding her mother. Contrast that with Julia, a woman in her 30's who has returned to Mullaby after a long absence. Her teenage years were troubled and difficult, and she is still working through some of the pain she felt during that time. For both of these characters, there are wrongs to be made right, secrets to be discovered, and romances to be pursued.

I listened to this book right after finishing Gone With the Wind (yes, that was more than a month ago...). Contrasted with that, it seemed incredibly fast paced. Important plot details and intriguing questions were introduced in the first chapter. It was just the kind of book I was in the mood for. Besides that, Allen's imagery was beautiful. I could see why people like her writing so much.  I was already making plans for reading some of her other novels.

But then...

Early on in the story, there is a flashback to Julia's turbulent teenage years. She is different and a social outcast. So when Sawyer, one of the most popular boys in school finds her alone on the football field and offers her comfort, she welcomes it, and after one night, she is pregnant. It was not a descriptive scene, and it was a moment from the past that was important to the present, so I felt like it was tastefully done. However, it did put me on the alert and not unnecessarily. Later on in the story, and back in the present, Julia and Sawyer's romance is rekindled, and before long they are sleeping together, and this time it was descriptive enough that I skipped over large chunks, all the time becoming more enraged that this was labeled as a "clean romance."

But what or who was I really upset with? Obviously, the label "clean" carries with it the same subjectivity that any label does. What one person calls "mild," another might call "offensive."  For me, I was disappointed that something labeled "clean" could  contain a descriptive bedroom scene, and also that those actions could be portrayed as a wonderful part of the story, a positive step forward in the relationship and something that should be applauded and dreamed for. (Just to clarify, Sarah Addison Allen did not give her book the "clean" label, so my disappointment has nothing to do with her ability or talent as a writer.)

This, of course, opens up a whole other topic, and one that hinges strongly on personal morals and values, which cannot be pushed onto anyone else but which nevertheless distinctly govern your own life. The reason a scene like the one I described above bothers me so much is because I believe that intimacy between a man and woman is sacred and should be reserved for marriage. When it is tossed around frivolously and joked about, it is cheapened. And once it is cheapened, then it is easily thrown into any relationship, and it means less and less each time to the point that now it can be included in a "light" romance and promoted as "clean." That's not right.

Sorry, personal soapbox. I hesitated even discussing any of this because I'm a conflict-avoiding wimp. Even though I have strong opinions, I hesitate sharing them with just anyone. You just never know how your words are going to be taken. At first I worried that if I ranted about the  book's content not being clean, then people would think I was prudish or overly sensitive. But guess what? I am prudish and overly sensitive. So I might as well say it like it is.

Besides all of this, the book was just not my favorite anyway. I could not get into the whole "glowing" gene. It seemed contrived and out of place.

If you've actually read this whole review, I'm sorry that it turned into more of a personal rant than an actual review. But I'm not sorry for the way I feel. Because convictions and beliefs? That's what defines us. That what makes us who we are. And there's no shame in that.

The Unwanteds by Lisa McMann

I've read a lot of good books lately, but this one was the most fun book I've read in a long while. I think Mike got quite tired of me telling him that he should listen to it, too, and I even called my mom and told her that she must buy it for my twin brothers for Christmas. Must. It was an order.

The story begins with The Purge, an annual occurrence in the land of Quill where the Unwanteds are separated from the Wanteds. (You are an Unwanted if you show any natural inclination towards creativity in music, art, drama, storytelling, etc.)  Alex is named as an Unwanted (he has been caught drawing with a stick in the dirt), but his twin brother, Aaron, is saved as a Wanted. (Incidentally, their parents are Necessaries, a group of laborers held in low regard.) The Unwanteds are taken to be eliminated in the Great Lake of Boiling Oil (sounds pleasant, no?), but upon arriving they are escorted past the mirage into a magical land called Artime. It is the home of the Unwanteds and is ruled by a wise and kind man named Mr. Today. Even though
Artime is kept hidden by magic, Mr. Today knows it is only a matter of time before Quill discovers them and a battle of power ensues.

You can see that the review across the top of the cover says, "The Hunger Games meets Harry Potter." While this comparison might be a bit extreme, I did find this book to be the perfect blend between dystopian and fantasy.

Speaking of fantasy, it is not my preferred genre, but the magic in this book was truly enchanting. In the land of Artime, the Unwanteds not only improve and perfect their talents, but they use those talents in magical ways...painting themselves invisible, drawing 3-D doors, singing enemies into a deep sleep, etc. I know I don't read nearly as much dystopian and fantasy as some people, but in a genre where there are so many spin-offs and retellings and hashing out of the same old ideas, this story really felt fresh and new.

The plot was captivating, the pacing perfect, and the characters unique and realistic. Occasionally I was frustrated when something was said that didn't make sense, and I wondered if I somehow missed or forgot some important detail. In the end though, everything was explained or revealed. I usually like stories where there are little teasers of future events or questions from the past which are gradually thought through and resolved, but for some reason it seemed more confusing than intriguing this time.

I listened to the audio, and I can't recommend narrator Simon Jones enough. I'm a sucker for British accents, but he really was top-notch. His voices were so distinct and varied that I could immediately tell who was speaking before I was told.

I can think of so many people I would love to recommend this book to. It's written for the 10-14 year-old crowd, and I have a couple of nephews in that age bracket who I'm sure would love it (if they haven't already read it). Even though Alex is the main character, there is another boy and two girls who make up his circle of friends, and much of the story is told from their perspectives, so I really think it would appeal equally to both girls and boys. But obviously, I also enjoyed it as an adult, and I can think of several of my friends who would also like it. In a few years, I would love to read it aloud to my boys and share the experience with them. And then, I already mentioned how many times I've told Mike that he should read it.  So really, you should just get the audio, pack a bus full of friends and relatives, and all enjoy it on a road trip together. And if your destination is to somewhere new and fun, well then, even better.

P.S. It is the first book in a trilogy (the second installment just came out this month), but this story could easily stand on its own. 

Birthday Backfire

Yesterday, Bradley turned one. It pains me to write it, but it's true. Now he's tagging along behind his older brothers, as if being the grand old age of one entitles him to climbing, wrestling, running, and jumping and giving up such babyish tendencies as falling asleep in my arms. What is with these kids and growing up? Enough already, I say!

As part of the birthday festivities, I told Aaron and Max that they could each pick out one book to give to Bradley. (I have an ever-growing stash of books purchased for next-to-nothing that I keep on hand for just such a purpose as this.)

Now, I must confess, I already had it in my head which two books I wanted them to choose: a touch-and-feel puppies book (because Bradley is in love with dogs) and What Does Baby Say?, a board book by Karen Katz (because anytime we read anything by her, Bradley laughs at every page).

And so I tried to rig the book selection.

Um, yeah, you read that right.

See, I wanted them to feel like they were getting a choice...without actually giving them a choice.

So I purposely threw in two other books I knew they'd have no interest in: Guess How Much I Love You (a classic, but not one my boys are enraptured with) and Gossie and Gertie (cute, but easily glanced over). I set out all four books and called Aaron into my bedroom to make his "choice." (Bwahaha.)

Immediately, he went for the book about dogs. "Bradley loves dogs, doesn't he?" I hinted. Aaron moved on. Painstakingly, he went through each book page by careful page.

Suddenly he stopped, in the midst of Gossie and Gertie. "Look! There's a spider!" And he pointed to a teeny, tiny, minuscule spider, a mere dot on the page. I could have smacked myself in the forehead.

Sure enough, five minutes later, he came to me with Gossie and Gertie. "I'm going to give this one to Bradley. It has two spiders in it!" (He found another one later on.)

"Oh? Because Bradley loves spiders?" I questioned innocently. "I thought Bradley loved dogs. Shouldn't you choose the book you think Bradley will like best?"

And this is where the real battle began.

"Well, I like it, and so I'm giving it to him."

"But I just don't know that it's the one Bradley will like. You should think about him first."

"Then why was it in the pile?" And Aaron fixed me with a hard, probing look. I was caught. Why, indeed? Aaron continued, "It's my choice, and this is the one I choose."

Much as I hated to admit defeat to a four-year-old,  his reasoning was beyond argument. You cannot imagine what a kick Mike was getting out of this whole episode. Every time he walked past me, he gave me a knowing smirk. He was delighted at my being caught in my own trap.

I showed the three remaining books to Max and held my breath. Bless his heart, he immediately chose the one about puppies. At least one boy in this family thinks like me.

Mr. Popper's Penguins by Richard and Florence Atwater

In a nutshell, Mr. Popper's Penguins was not as wildly funny and entertaining as I was hoping it would be. I'm wondering how it has managed to stand the test of time.

Mr. Popper is a husband and father who paints houses for a living and dreams of Antarctica for the rest of the time. One day, just after the painting season has ended, a package shows up on his doorstep, and wonder of wonders, it's a penguin! Mr. Popper couldn't be happier. He names his new pet Captain Cook and enjoys taking him on walks. Then Captain Cook grows lonely, and through a series of fortunate events, a female penguin (Greta) is also sent to Mr. Popper. Together, Captain Cook and Greta have ten baby penguins. Mr. Popper is in heaven and lives to be down in the freezing basement watching his beloved birds. But Mrs. Popper realizes that they will soon be out of money. And thus, Popper's Performing Penguins is born.

I remember my mom reading this book aloud when I was a child, and I don't remember disliking it. It seemed like a good choice for my next read-aloud to Aaron because he has quite the sense of humor, and what could be funnier than twelve penguins living in a house?

I guess you can already tell that the book did not live up to my expectations. First of all, it's terribly slow. A whole chapter was spent describing the nest Captain Cook (the penguin, remember?) built in the refrigerator. A walk around town took up another two chapters. There just wasn't anything very gripping about the plot to make us want to read another chapter. (But we plugged along anyway.)

Also, through no fault of its own, the language is outdated. Neither Aaron or Max had any idea what was happening when the "service man" came to fix the "ice box." Of course, this provided some great opportunities for learning new words, but it also made the slow pace of the story even slower since I had to stop and explain what had happened every few pages.

And then there's Mr. Popper himself. He's just not your normal children's book protagonist. In fact, I found him to be odd and quirky but not really in a funny or entertaining way. He's oblivious to the needs of his wife and children, and there's not anything endearing or redeeming about him.

To top it off, the ending was just so ridiculous, even Aaron and Max could tell I did not approve. At the last minute, Mr. Popper hops aboard a ship bound for the Arctic, and without asking a single question, his wife and children happily send him off for the next two or three years. What?! In a single paragraph, Mr. Popper went from odd and quirky to downright irresponsible.

So that's my honest opinion. Now as far as Aaron and Max are concerned, I think they liked it well enough. They were definitely bored at times, but there were scenes that captured their attentions and which they relived in the days afterward. Aaron is still talking about the snowstorm inside the house, and he keeps telling me he wishes he could jump off the chair into a big snow pile. Ahhh, dreams. And a few days ago, my sister-in-law was at our house, and she was acting out scripture stories with the boys. She asked Aaron what his favorite story was, and he said, "Mr. Popper's Penguins!" I'm consoling myself with the hope that he didn't realize she was talking about scripture stories. At any rate, I guess he liked the book well enough to list it as a "favorite," at least for a short time.

My final opinion is that even though this book received a Newbery Honor, it has worn out its popularity. It's not a bad book, but there are many far better books to choose from.

Do you have any good recommendations for a four-year-old? I'd love to hear them!

Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain

Picture this: It is the first night of a weekend family reunion. Mike's older sister has just turned on some music, and its intoxicating beat jumps from the speakers. Immediately family members are drawn to the floor, twisting and sliding and leaping in the sort of carefree abandon that happens when you're happy and with the people you love best. There's a boys vs. girls dance competition; soon after, everyone takes a turn performing a short solo in the center of the circle; that is followed by a rousing game of Follow the Leader. Everyone is breathless and laughing. The energy in the room is tangible. Even I can feel it...from my comfortable spot on the couch.

Why on earth was I sitting on the couch?!?! What about the bouncing and jumping and whirling? How could I possibly contain myself?

Turns out...it's not that hard, if you're an introvert like me.

With that story as background, I guess you can see why I loved Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. Recently I was talking to my mother-in-law and a couple of sisters-in-law (I think it may have eve: been the same night as the dance party). I mentioned this book and also that I was a true-blue, through-and-through introvert. Immediately, my mother-in-law rushed to my defense: "Oh, no, Amy! That is not true. You are definitely not an introvert!"

But I am. And listening to this book not only helped me see myself a little more honestly but also be content with what I saw.

The word "introvert" definitely has some negative connotations. Introverts are often seen as hermits, social outcasts, painfully quiet, and awkwardly reclusive. So I guess I should take it as a compliment that my mother-in-law was so adamant against me pinning such a label on myself.  But Susan Cain defined introverts as those who are serious and sensitive (check); work slowly and deliberately (check); dislike small talk but enjoy deep discussions (check); recharge themselves by spending quiet time alone (check).

In the introduction, Cain gave a 20-question quiz to determine your own level of...um...introvertedness. It fit me to a T. (And I laughed out loud when one of the questions was, "I often let calls go through to voice mail." Yes! All the time. I think it struck me as funny because one of my good friends, who is an extrovert, can't believe that I can just let a call go without finding out what it was about.)

So now that I've spent all this time establishing the fact that I am an introvert, what was the book actually about? First she discussed "the extrovert idea," how we live in a society that really caters to the extroverts...from playtime at preschool to open-area work spaces and team projects. I thought it was so interesting to read her research about collaboration and how so many companies insist on working together as a group, but it often decreases productivity. Second, she talked about the nature of introverts: how much of our personality is set in stone? Can an introvert become an extrovert? (Answer: no, but he can do a superb job of faking it.) And finally, if you're an introvert, when should you push yourself, and when should you embrace who you are?

Overall, I thought it was very well-researched. It had an almost Malcolm Gladwell feel to it. She really looked at introverts from every angle. It's one of those books that probably everyone should read because even if you're not an introvert, you know plenty. Fair warning though: Susan Cain is an introvert herself and therefore paints introverts in a very favorable light, sometimes to the disadvantage of the extrovert. This is great for those of us who are introverts, but if you're an extrovert, it might make you seethe a little.

One of the parts of the book that really spoke to me was when she spoke about "restorative niches"--a time and a place where you can relax, take a breath, and regroup your thoughts and feelings before reentering the world. Cain mentioned how important it is for introverts to schedule a restorative niche into their day...especially if they are working in an extroverted environment. You might think that my job as a stay-at-home mom would just be one big restorative niche. But to that I would say, HA! The boys' nap time is practically sacred to me, and if one of them doesn't take a nap, I find myself much more impatient and on edge. Now, I know why...that nap time is my personal restorative niche, a time for me to enjoy the quiet stillness of my house and refocus for the rest of the day.

Occasionally, I felt like the research she cited contradicted itself a bit (I guess that's the nature of research). For example, early in the book, she talked about introverts' sensitive natures and how they can often read a crowd and notice the interest level of an audience and then tweak their own facial expressions, speech, etc. to match the dynamics of the room. But then later on, she explained a study where introverts and extroverts talked on the phone, but in this case, it was the extroverts that (at least in the beginning) read the conversation correctly. Anyway, I felt like some of this conflict in research, while maybe giving a more honest view, actually weakened some of her points.

So let's go back to the dance party: Was I on the couch for the whole evening? No. There were times when I pushed myself onto the floor and other times when I succumbed to a little reckless abandon of my own. As an introvert, I've learned that if I don't push myself a little, I sometimes miss out on some things that I actually will enjoy. But for most of the time, I was happily content on the couch, watching Mike's sisters gracefully and beautifully improvise. It was so much fun. And really, the only thing that made it not fun was the worry that everyone was wondering why I wasn't on the floor making up my own dance moves. In a room full of extroverts, I worried that they'd feel a need to encourage, invite, and include me when I really was just happiest watching from the sidelines.

But that's why this book was so good for me...it validated my personality and made me realize that, yes, I am more comfortable dancing in the kitchen by myself than amidst a large group of people, but that doesn't mean that I dance any less joyfully.

The Waiting Game

It is a personal mantra of mine to never be caught waiting without something to read. A few examples to illustrate:

If I'm going somewhere in the car, I always bring a book with me. This is true regardless of whether it's a 15-minute run to the store or a nine-hour trip to my parents' house. It's true. Just ask Mike.

However, as much as I love audio books, if I'm the one driving, I rarely listen to one in the car. I just get too distracted and engrossed in the story, so it's not safe.

I definitely bring a book to appointments where I'll have to do some waiting. (And if it's an appointment where I didn't bring my boys along, then I even hope I'll have to do some waiting so I can get in some good reading!)

But here is what I've discovered about waiting...

While I might hope to fill in all that empty time with a book, my expectations often go unfulfilled.

For example, when my kids are playing outside and all I'm doing is supervising, I grab my book in anticipation of some relaxing fun in the sun. Check out this picture:

See? Doesn't this just look heavenly? Me, stretched out in the soft grass with the warm sun resting on my back, lost in the world of a good story with the laughter of my children merely a delightful soundtrack in the background.

Well, guess what, folks? This photo was STAGED. 100%. My four-year-old took it. (It only took us about fifty tries to get one that wasn't blurry). And I didn't read a single word during that time. Instead, I was doing a lot of this:

(Pulling Bradley out of the dirt)

And this:

(Rescuing Bradley from the tree house.)

(We didn't get a clear version of this one. When working with a four-year-old, I have to take what I get.)

And, no, these photos were NOT staged.

But the good thing about me is that I never give up. Just this morning, the boys and I went to one of our favorite parks, the one that always proves to be uncrowded with plenty of shade. In a display of true optimism, I brought along a book. And guess what? I actually read five pages!! Not all at the same time, but hey, I think I'm making some progress.

Sorry, though, no photographic proof. The four-year-old was busy riding his scooter.

(I linked this post to Where in the World are You Reading?, hosted by Lisa.)

What the Dog Saw and Other Adventures by Malcolm Gladwell

I'll take just about any excuse I can get to talk to someone about books...sometimes going to great lengths to coerce people into a discussion.  Case in point: Mike's family had a family reunion the first week in September, and I came up with the brilliant idea (inspired by Janssen) of having a book discussion as one of the activities. Luckily, Mike's parents and eight siblings (and spouses) are all readers themselves, so I didn't have to twist too many arms or offer too many threats to make this happen. (Haha...me offer threats? Yeah, right.)

But then I was faced with the daunting task of selecting a good book. Not only did it need to appeal to men and women, but also to a group of diverse talents and interests...from Mike's English major oldest sister to his computer-savvy brother-in-law to his nerdy physics professor brother (sorry, Jon). I polled the family and finally decided on What the Dog Saw and Other Adventures by Malcolm Gladwell.

What the Dog Saw... is a collection of essays taken from Gladwell's writings for The New Yorker. The essay format worked really well for this type of book group because it provided not only flexibility (you could read anywhere from one to all nineteen essays) but also variety (everything from stock markets to birth control). Plus, almost everyone read Outliers a few years ago, so there was the added advantage of them already being Gladwell fans.

Each essay felt like a mini-version of Gladwell's larger works. He takes an idea (the scope and limits of taking pictures, for example), and he explores it in a completely unique way. One moment, he's talking about mammograms and then all of a sudden he's talking about bombing aircraft in WWII. It would be a little jolting except that somehow, he brings everything together beautifully, and who would have known, but bombing aircraft really does help us understand the benefits and pitfalls of mammograms. To be able to make seemingly random connections the way Gladwell does makes me realize that he must not only be a genius with research  but also have a gift for seeing the big picture and tying those elements together.

Before I talk about my favorite essays, I just wanted to mention a couple nit-picky observations. First, at times I found the writing to be a little more technical than I was expecting. This might not have been a problem if I had listened to it, but there were a few essays (especially the ones with lots of financial terms) that were a little hard for me to get through. Also, the paragraphs are reallllly long (like, over a page in some instances). This must be their format in The New Yorker (I guess I just blew my cover...I've never read The New Yorker), but it was hard on my eyes not to have the page broken up a bit more. That, and if you know how I do some of my reading (while trying to watch my kids simultaneously), it was hard for me to keep my place while looking up so frequently.

But enough of that. This book got me thinking in a multitude of ways about things I normally wouldn't think about. And I love a book that makes me think.

One of my favorite essays was about the art of failure (in fact, it was the one we spent the most time talking about at the family reunion...um, probably because I was leading the discussion!!). Gladwell talks about the difference between choking (focusing...to our detriment...on the things that should be second nature) versus panicking (we stop thinking and revert to instinct). Gladwell says that we often think of choking and panicking as the same thing (maybe even using the words interchangeably) but they are completely different in terms of their causes (choking happens because we think too much and panicking happens because we think too little).

I think I was particularly fascinated by this topic because I have experienced both types of failure in my life. As a music major, I performed frequently. Without fail, those times of high pressure would lead to me choking. All of a sudden, it was like I was reading this music for the first time...I couldn't remember what fingering I had used or where I went immediately after the page turn. It happened because I started overthinking instead of letting my hours of practicing easily carry me through. Likewise, as a mom, I've had moments of panic where one of my children has been hurt or momentarily lost, and I revert to freezing in total confusion. One time Max darted out into the street a few feet in front of a (slowly) moving car. I can remember watching in helpless shock...I didn't run, and even my scream was slow in coming out. It is just so interesting to look at these two very different instances and see that what made me fail in both cases wasn't the same reaction, but two very different reactions.

As another example, in the essay, "The New-Boy Network," Gladwell explores the idea of first impressions and just how much we can really gather from our first meeting of an individual. I found his research absolutely fascinating, mainly because in the end, he concluded that it is very hard to get a good grasp on a person's personality or character in fifteen or thirty minutes. In my own life, I have definitely had some first impressions go completely awry in both good and bad ways. For example, when I first met one of my sisters-in-law (I have nine, so I feel pretty safe with this staying anonymous), I didn't like her at all. I thought we were extremely different and found her hard to be around. But now? She is one of my best friends, and I could talk to her for hours. Contrast that with someone in my neighborhood. The first time I saw her, I thought, I hope I get to know her better. She seems like she is just my type. Now, years later, I could not have been more wrong! Even though we are congenial acquaintances, our personalities and interests are completely different. These experiences, plus reading the research behind it, have made me much more careful about judging others.

Finally, I loved the essay about late bloomers. Gladwell talked about those who come into their talent a little bit later in life...or maybe they started out doing one thing and then decided something else was calling more loudly. It was inspiring to read about people who weren't successful until they were fifty or sixty. Sometimes I worry that I've already explored the talents I have and that at 27, I'm stuck with my initial decisions. But I'm not. I still have a long life to live, and there are any number of possibilities left to discover. That's exciting.

These were some of the essays that I liked and which have really left me thinking. But if these topics sound incredibly boring to you, don't let that dissuade you...there's still hair dye, pit bulls, ketchup, or many other subjects that will make you think outside the box.