Review: Flight

Flight by Lynn Steger Strong
My rating: 3 of 5 stars



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Review: The Boys from Biloxi

The Boys from Biloxi by John Grisham
My rating: 4 of 5 stars



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Review: The Drift

The Drift by C.J. Tudor
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

As a rabid fan of post apocalyptic fiction, I was beyond excited to read this new release by CJ Tudor. I dove in feet first, but it didn’t take long to feel as if I was drowning in details that were too obscure to connect. From the first page, I was thrown off balance and truly puzzled about where Tudor was headed. I could find no frame of reference to allow me to place the characters into a scenario that made sense and instead spent an inordinate amount of time trying to manufacture connections that would allow me to find an actual story I could follow. There just wasn’t enough background to anchor the events. Whilst the writing itself is on point, the structure and lack of depth just made for a chaotic read. Add to that a series of similar characters who remained flat and lifeless, and the result is a selection I would recommend leaving on the shelf.

The book unfolds in cycling chapters that focus on three different locations where characters are caught in the aftermath of a viral epidemic. One group finds themselves trapped on a bus that crashed during a snowstorm, while the second group of six is stuck high in the frigid air on a stalled cable car.. All, in both locations, were volunteers en route to “The Retreat”, an isolated former ski lodge now functioning as a facility focused on finding a vaccine. It is at that research institution that the reader finds the third and final group, a diverse mix of men and women engaged in various nefarious activities. One fact is made crystal clear—in each location, and to a person, everyone is harboring secrets.

From the beginning, the chapters exist in isolation. No group has knowledge of any of the others, and so the reader is left with the impression that they are reading three separate stories, related only by the virus that has decimated the world around them. The expectation, of course, is that the reader is being set up for a grand intersection. I have seen this technique utilized successfully when links between those parallel plots are revealed before they again divert and gain traction as completely separate storylines. They eventually spiral down into a single event that melds them seamlessly together when the plots collide, leaving the reader wondering how they missed the connections. Here, however, Tudor waits far too long to offer the reader any common threads. Instead, the stories stand apart with no clear relationship to one another, each weaving distinct paths that at times become tedious in their ambiguity. There’s a fine line between expecting the reader to infer and dissect clues and making the clues so obscure that it is nearly impossible to follow them to any logical conclusion, Tudor never closes the gap between the storylines in any satisfying way, and when the big picture is finally made clear (too little, too late), the result was, for me, a big “so what”.

Character development, or lack thereof, is another disappointment. In each group, the characters aren’t just eerily similar, they are near carbon copies, down to their vocabulary and the cadence of their speech. Some of these similarities are eventually explained, but others are just the result of inadequate character development. It’s as if Tudor storyboarded four or five stock character sketches, then recycled them as he moved forward.

Overall, the promise of a post-apocalyptic tale was replaced with a story borne of revenge and violence, structured in a way that left me disconnected and unable to invest.

I am grateful to NetGalley and Random House Publishing (Ballantine Books) for allowing me to receive an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Publication is set for January 31, 2023, at which time I look forward to reading other reactions and reviews.

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Review: The Half Moon

The Half Moon by Mary Beth Keane
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

When I saw that Mary Beth Keane had published another novel, I was almost giddy. Ask Again, Yes is one my most favorite books, and to know that Keane had once again put pen to paper was exciting. I cleared my Saturday and dove in. Whilst this story has its strengths, there are a few hiccups that just kept me from loving it.

The Half Moon is the story of Malcolm and Jess, a childless couple in their forties, searching for meaning and direction. Malcolm is the proud(ish) owner of a run down bar called The Half Moon, and Jess is an accomplished lawyer. Both seem to be stuck in their own mid-life crises, reaching out for something tangible to define themselves and grasping only empty promises and disappointment. The tale floats through their journey, following the natural curves in the river, as the reader plays voyeur to their navigation of rough waters and scraping atop shallow banks.

The story itself is one that relates themes of self-doubt, self-discovery, betrayal and redemption—a heady combination that leaves the reader with a feeling of being weighted down with rocks in one’s pockets. The depressing narrative is a trudge with little to no lightness to ease the load. I felt as I read that I was slowly drowning in the mistakes and missteps of both Malcolm and Jess. Beyond the general tone, however, the biggest issue I had with the book was the structure.

Malcolm has a tendency to see everything through a lens of past events, though Keane’s attempts to recreate that lens seem arbitrary and capricious and make it sometimes difficult to follow. The story meanders from past to present, often a paragraph or two at a time, with no clear delineation of the jump. By the time the reader catches up to the time-line placement, the story moves yet again into another era. The best books are those that disappear in your hands as you become a part of the storyline. Here, however, it was a lot of work to keep track of where in the characters’ lives certain events happened, making it difficult to melt into the setting. One is constantly reminded that they must relocate themselves in relation to the events, which in turn separates the reader from the page as the adjustment takes place.

The news here, however, is not only bad. Keane’s genius in character development is once again on point, and every single character leaps from the page. Additionally, her prosaic text and ability to turn a phrase is positively brilliant. Finally, she leaves the reader longing to know more—to follow the lives of both Malcolm and Jess as they move forward.

Overall, it’s a book I wouldn’t have missed simply because of my love of this author. As a stand alone, without prior knowledge of Keane’s ability, I’m not sure I would have found it quite engaging. The structural issues and amount of concentration it took to readjust to the ever changing time line just make this more work than the investment warranted in returns.

Thank you to NetGalley and Scribner Books for providing me with an ARC for review. Publication is set for May 2, 2023.

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Review: The Handmaid's Tale

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Atwood is an acquired taste. Kind of like green olives or caviar. You need to commit to the experience, then find the fortitude to push through the first few pages— or put the book down and try again in a few weeks/months/years. As our experiences change so does our relationship to and engagement in the text. It was finally time for me to crack this one open. I was ready.

First, one must understand that Atwood’s style is detached and informal, messy and chaotic. The narrator, Offred (not her real name, but rather a generic label given as a way to further strip her of her individuality), tells the story through a sharing of her memories, sometimes stopping mid sentence to admit to being unreliable and then retelling the narrative as it “really” happened. It can be difficult to follow as she meanders from past to present with little structure. The beauty, however, is that once you have immersed yourself, the stories she tells become all-encompassing in their horror.

When this was initially published, many found it to be almost too dystopian in nature. Women’s rights are set back decades, and men are running the show. A contingent of seditious far-right Christian men kill the president, shoot up the Capital and leave every politician and left-thinking scholar in a tangled pile of decay following a bloody coup. It’s a new day, where woman serve to either procreate or indulge their husbands. Single women become Handmaids, who bear children for those wealthy and unable, settling between the legs of the wives and spreading their own, while the husbands attempt to impregnate them. The positional logistics are repeated again when it’s time for the Handmaid to give birth, after which the baby, should it survive, is ceremoniously given to the man who impregnated her and the wife who wrapped her own legs around the Handmaid as she conceived. Many of the babies, due to contaminates in a decaying world, are born only to die. There is no prenatal testing, no option to terminate. Babies who aren’t perfect when they emerge from the Handmaid’s womb are labeled shredders. No one is quite sure what becomes of them, though the implication is that they are killed or left to die. Those who refuse to become Handmaids (too old, too ill, too poor) are sent to Colonies, where the work is both dangerous and demeaning. One day might mean cleaning up rotting corpses from a recent battle. The next might bring a radioactive area that needs to be decontaminated. Life for colonists is difficult and short. It can be equally so for those who agree to be handmaids as they face a three strike rule, sent from household to household to be impregnated. Failure equates to death. There is always the option to perhaps become a prostitute and work in one of the forbidden clubs run by those in charge—the men with means. Women who choose this option are first sterilized so as not to muddy the waters of the organization. The written word has been abolished for women, men are the keepers of all monies, and a community wall serves as a showcase for detractors and those insistent upon resistance and rebellion, where hooded bodies hang from hooks as a warning: a reminder of what it means to say “no”. Women who remember the past are living out their days/months/years by paving the way for a generation that will know no different—girls born to become receptacles and incubators.

More recent readers, and those who reflect back, will find themselves with goosebumps and the tiny hairs standing on the backs of their necks. The far right, in the shadow of January 6 and led by the resounding bass of the Supreme Court, has begun the march over the rights of women, and while many are lowering their gaze and standing ostrich-like, head deep in the sand, the band continues to play. Atwood reminds us of the consequences of such ignorance and feigned obliviousness.

Five big stars, another certain spike in my level of anxiety and a few guaranteed nightmares—and I am waiting a bit before tackling the next book in the series. I need to reset and make sure the world isn’t truly imploding.

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Review: Nineteen Minutes

Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I waited a long time to tackle this one. As an urban high school teacher who has lost countless students to violence, I was wary of the subject matter here. I was right to be. The character development employed by Picoult is nothing short of brilliant. In lifting these characters from the pages, however, Picoult broke my heart into tiny little shards of glass that have continued, long after closing the book, to pierce my conscience. This is a rough ride that left me realizing just how close to the truth this author has aimed and how accurately she has portrayed the depth of cruelty that teenagers experience at the hands of one another. I carry my own scars from bullying, almost 45 years after the fact, and felt every push, shove, insult and humiliation to which the main character, Peter, was subjected. This one will live with me for a very, very long time.

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Review: The Resort

The Resort by Sue Watson
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

First, this book was simply awful. Second, I have no idea why I persevered and finished it. If I’d had a lick of sense, I would have closed the cover after the first ten pages and moved along. Third, do yourself a favor and learn from my mistake—hours wasted on what can only be described as utter nonsense.

The story is that of three couples, meeting for the first time whilst on holiday at Fitzgerald’s, a posh, exclusive resort. Now this could have been a great name for a lavish getaway situated on its very own island. Instead, however, it is rendered positively cringeworthy the moment the second couple is introduced—Tom and Daisy. (No, I’m not kidding. F. Scott is somewhere in the ether, downing migraine meds and praying he doesn’t have a stroke.). When a Fitzgerald’s waitress is found dead on the beach, no one knows for sure whether it is murder or suicide, but finger-pointing runs amuck, and everyone is a suspect.

There are so many issues here I’m not even sure where to begin. The character development is abhorrent—not a single one likable or even interesting. It’s as if the author created these shells she intended to imbue with personalities but then realized a couple hundred pages in that she had forgotten to do so. Their behaviors are inconsistent and erratic, up and down more often than a whore’s drawers. In case that isn’t enough of a deterrent to keep turning pages, there are also numerous errors in continuity. One of my favorites is as chapter five opens, and Daisy is on her way to the beach:

“Daisy climbed down the rather rickety wooden steps to the beach, and once there pulled off her sandals, immediately soothed by the feeling of warm sand between her toes. She stood at the bottom of the stairs…”

In THE VERY NEXT PARAGRAPH:

“She tried not to think of what might have been and counted her blessings as she stood quietly at the top of the wooden steps down to the beach, her art director’s eye scanning the view for shots.”

Come on, seriously? It’s a ONE PARAGRAPH follow through!

Here’s another gem:

“‘You sure you’re okay?’ Sam was saying. ‘You look terribly pale.’

To Sam, she probably looked like the picture of sophistication drinking Aperol in her chichi beachwear, but in truth she was just a scared and fragile woman.”

So Sam tells Daisy she looks pale, and Daisy interprets that to mean Sam sees her as a picture of sophistication? I….but….::sigh::

Those are just two examples of the myriad issues that plague this book. Although classified as a “mystery”, the only true mystery is how The Resort made it to publication. This editor needs to be in the unemployment line whilst seeking training for a new career.

Reading back, I realize the brutality of this review, but it truly angers me to spend hard earned money to purchase a book that I then invest time into reading, only to discover that clearly my own investments are far more than those made by the author.

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