Killer Instinct

Killer Instinct is the second entry in Jennifer Lynn Barnes’s The Naturals series. Cassie, a teenage FBI profiler, and her gifted companions are back with a new FBI handler and a case eerily similar to the murders committed by Dean’s father. The premise of these books is farfetched—teenagers with a greater, natural ability to catch criminals succeed when the traditional FBI has failed—but the books are fun, the mysteries intriguing, and the obligatory love triangle engaging. Because the books are ultimately mystery fluff, I had a hard time remembering what happened in The Naturals, but that did not prevent me from enjoying the book.

Famous Last Words

Willa invites the supernatural into her life when she tries to contact her deceased father. The other -worldly visitations increase when she moves into the former home of a late Hollywood actress. At the same time, a serial killer is recreating death scenes from famous movies, and Willa’s lab partner is obsessed with the murders. Famous Last Words is a fun, fast, and entertaining read for anyone who is a fan of thrillers and Young Adult novels.

Seven Houses: A Novel

Seven Houses: A Novel was recommended to me as a must read for anyone with a love for or connection with Turkey. Seven Houses is a beautifully written, literary novel, and I agree with the recommendation. The premise of the novel is that the seven houses, located in Turkey throughout the 20th century, have a soul and a connection to the inhabitants and their stories. The idea of the houses speaking for the family is interesting but not necessary and sometimes a clunky tool. It should also be noted that the family featured in the story is representative of the Turkish secular ideal, so only portrays part of the population and does not address the reality of the much more conservative-leaning Turkish society of today. Even those that do not have a connection to Turkey, but enjoy well-written literary fiction, will enjoy this novel.

Jane

Jane is a modern-day retelling of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. In this case, Jane is a college student that drops out of college when her parents die and she can no longer pay tuition. Instead, she takes a job as a nanny for a notoriously bad rock musician. Although Jane follows the plot of Jane Eyre, it is definitely no Jane Eyre. The book modernizes the relationship between Jane and “Rathburn” (i.e., sex) and, rightly, corrects the inhumane treatment of the Bertha Mason-inspired character. However, the story does not have the elegance, heart, or emotion of the original. Hopefully those that read Jane first will then want to read Jane Eyre and be treated to a real literary experience.

Sharp Objects

Gillian Flynn is a master at creating uncomfortable situations, and Sharp Objects is definitely uncomfortable. Camille Preaker is a reporter that is sent to cover the murder of a young girl in her hometown. Camille is alienated from her Southern Belle mother and younger half-sister but returns home to research the murders. Camille makes some very stupid decisions and the plot is rather predictable, but the writing and story are interesting, engrossing, and uncomfortable. If you can handle the discomfort and enjoyed Gone Girl, you will like this book.

Wonder

Auggie has a cocktail of genetic disorders that affects his facial features. After years of homeschooling, his parents decide to send him to school with other children. Wonder shares Auggie’s story from multiple perspectives: Auggie, his older sister, and several classmates.

This young adult novel is engaging. However, I read the book as an adult and mother. I was moved by the experience of Via, Auggie’s sister. As the healthy child, she has had to sacrifice her parents’ time and attention to her younger brother. I felt emotional reading about Auggie’s genetic disorders since I also unknowingly passed on a genetic disease to my own children.

I wonder, though, how a child or teen would react to this book. Would they be as repulsed by Auggie as his classmates are? Would they develop empathy from reading the book? Would they relate to Via’s position? Or is this really a book for adults?

The Naturals

Cassie is a natural profiler, learning to read people from her “psychic” mother. After her mother disappears and is presumed dead, Cassie moves in with her paternal grandmother but never feels like she belongs with the large Italian family. When she’s approached by another “natural” to join a small group of teens trained by the FBI to solve cold cases, she jumps at the change, hoping to solve her own mother’s cold case. The book introduces four naturals besides Cassie, prepping for a series of books featuring the agents-in-training.

The Naturals is a fast and enjoyable read. It is similar to watching a procedural drama on television and certainly does not tax the brain, but pleasure reading should be just that—pleasurable.

The Small Hand and Dolly

The best way to describe Susan Hill’s novellas The Small Hand and Dolly is moody. Hill does an excellent job of creating an unsettling mood in both stories. In one, a rare book seller is haunted by the feel of an invisible, small hand in his. In the second, two cousins are haunted by a childhood experience with a porcelain doll. As I read the stories, I could imagine them as chilling movies that would make the audience edgy with suspense.

 Unfortunately, mood is not enough. The stories tend to ramble and seem filled with unnecessary detail. Where the plots are going is often unclear, and the journey is more tedious than pleasurable. The novellas simply are not page turners, and I found myself plodding through them out of a sense of obligation rather than enjoyment.

When You Reach Me

Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me was definitely not what I expected. After reading a few descriptions of the book, and the “mysterious letters” main character Miranda receives, I was expecting a mystery.

Miranda, a sixth grader living in New York City with her single mom, does indeed receive mysterious letters, but this book is not a mystery or thriller. It is the kind of book that makes references to Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time.

If you are a fan of L’Engle, you will likely be a fan of When You Reach Me. If you did not enjoy A Wrinkle in Time, you may not connect with this book. I am not a fan of L’Engle, or science fiction in general, so I was left feeling a bit disappointed by this Newbery Medal winner.

You Are One of Them

Elliot Holt’s You Are One of Them has an intriguing premise. Sarah’s best friend, Jenny Jones, died in a plane crash not long after visiting Soviet Russia. Ten years later, Sarah receives an email from Moscow, claiming Jenny is still alive.

The delivery, unfortunately, is not nearly as intriguing. Much of the book focuses on the failed relationships in Sarah’s life: with her older sister, with her father, with various lovers. Part of the book flashes back to Sarah and Jenny’s friendship. The latter half covers Sarah’s experiences in Moscow.

Anyone expecting a mystery will be disappointed by the final revelation. This book is not genre fiction and fails to follow any generic formula. However, One of Them is a nice example of literary fiction. Sarah moves to Moscow during the mid-90s. Having lived in Ukraine during the late 90s, the descriptions of the post-Soviet era ring true for me. Holt’s descriptions of places, people, and attitudes feel accurate.

 Read this book for the writing and setting and not for the mystery.

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle

Charlotte Doyle is a proper early 19th-century 13-year-old girl. When her family moves from England to the United States, she plans to join them after her school term. However, she soon discovers that the plan has gone awry when she boards the Seahawk, one of her father’s ships. The families she was supposed to travel with have suddenly canceled, and the crew gives her several cryptic warnings to stay away.

Thus begins The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle. I wanted to root for Charlotte and her adventures. I wanted to embrace True Confessions as a treatise for female empowerment (and racial equality), but I just could not suspend my disbelief long enough to do so.

I know this Newbery Honor Book is written for children, but I could not get beyond the fact that Charlotte, a female, is alone with a crew of men for months at a time. Charlotte abandons her traditional role as an upper-class female, and is a fine example of a girl throwing off gender restrictions, but it is impossible for me to believe that the crew, particularly in the early 1800s, would ever really accept and view her in a non-sexual manner. The anachronisms of the plot left me so disbelieving that I could not enjoy or recommend the book.

Daughter of War

The last time Kevork and Marta saw each other was in an Armenian orphanage in Marash, Turkey. Before they are separated, Kevork and Marta promise they will one day be reunited and marry.

Both Kevork and Marta survive, yet they are also sure the other is dead. They have experienced unspeakable acts, but the promise they made each other keeps them going when life feels unlivable. They hope for the unbelievable—that the other still lives—but also worry they themselves are too severely damaged for the other to still love.

Kevork and Marta are compelling characters, and the reader roots for their reunification. They are also surrounded by supporting characters that show humanity exists even in the most inhumane situations: German nuns, international aid workers, diplomats, and young children.  

Daughter of War is written for a young audience and though it doesn’t shy from hard topics, it also doesn’t delve deeply into them either. However, it is a good introductory read into an often overlooked historical period.

The Sandcastle Girls

Chris Bohjalian’s The Sandcastle Girls is the story of Elizabeth Endicott, an American who travels to Aleppo, Syria with her diplomat father in 1915 to aid Armenian refugees driven from Ottoman Turkey.  She meets and falls in love with Armen, an Armenian engineer who is suffering from the loss of his wife and child.

Unfortunately, Bohjalian couches Armen and Elizabeth’s story within that of their American granddaughter, Laura, who is learning about her grandparents’ history.  Not only is Laura not an interesting character, but her story is jarring and distracting from the heart of the narrative.  In addition, her existence takes away from the book’s dramatic tension since it is clear from the beginning that not only do both Elizabeth and Armen survive but they also marry and reproduce.

I wanted to like this book more than I did.  Part of my discontent is because I did not find Elizabeth an attractive or appealing character.  I couldn’t imagine what about her character was compelling enough to bring Armen out of his emotional comma.  Part of it is because Bohjalian does not just let the horror of history provide the book’s painful drama.  Instead, he concludes with a dramatic, and unnecessary, scene that detracts from the historical context and left me with a deep feeling of unease. 

American Dervish

This past weekend, I attended the groundbreaking for a new mosque to be built in a predominantly Christian community. In his opening remarks, the imam talked about his hope that the local community would see the mosque and its worshipers and know there is more to Islam than the media portrays.

Ayad Akhtar’s American Dervish is a perfect example of the complexity of the American Muslim identity. Hayat Shah and his parents socialize within a Pakistani expat community that ranges from the seemingly devout to the authentically devout to the secular. Hayat explores what religion means to him both spiritually and culturally and moves from memorizing the Quran to becoming a disbeliever.

Religion permeates American Dervish but its story is universal as Hayat faces the milestones of growing up: falling in love, seeing the imperfections of one’s parents, developing one’s own belief system. Akhtar is a poetic writer and raises many questions about religion, relationships, and identity.

The Expats

I made the mistake of starting The Expats on audiobook. Some people are great fans of the format, but at the best of times my mind tends to wander away from the story. The Expats is a particularly difficult book for the format as it jumps from past to present, so I just couldn't follow—even when I was paying attention. I finally checked out a paper copy to read the last half of the book, so I don’t feel very qualified to write a review.

But I’ll still try.

I’ve never read spy novels before, but I think The Expats tries to fit into the genre. As I read, I could feel its desire to be turned into a summer film in the vein of the Bourne saga. I picked up this book because of the reviews and was definitely disappointed that it was neither a fast, exciting beach read nor an especially well-written piece of literary fiction. I was particularly disappointed with Kate, the main character. She didn’t feel authentic, and I always wonder about writers who try to write from the perspective of the opposite sex because so often it doesn’t ring true.

The book was an adequate read, but certainly not a summer blockbuster to tell all your friends about.

Moonlight in Odessa

Daria is a well-educated Odessan who takes a job as a secretary for an international company and discovers there is more in her job description than she bargained for. In the evenings she works at a “mail-order bride” agency, interpreting for men looking for a “traditional” wife and women wanting to escape poverty through marriage. On top of that, she has to deal with the advances of a local mafia boss.

Moonlight in Odessa paints what I consider to be a fairly accurate picture of post-Soviet Ukraine: an educated population faced with few job prospects; amazing women with a less-than-stellar crop of males to choose from; and the uncomfortable choices some women feel forced to make to escape poverty.

That said, Moonlight is not a dreary drudge of a read. The writing is fast-paced, smart, and often humorous. Daria is a likable main character with a lot of spunk that the reader can’t help but root for.

We Are All Made of Glue

I am a big fan of Marina Lewycka. She has a vibrant writing style and tackles difficult and uncomfortable subjects with both respect and humor.

Georgie Sinclair is experiencing a true midlife crisis. Her husband leaves her, and she feels distant from her teenage children. The emptiness in her life is suddenly filled by an elderly woman, Mrs. Shapiro, who drops into Georgie’s life and starts to consume it. Georgie is left to deal with Mrs. Shapiro’s medical issues, her unsanitary house, unsavory real estate agents, and a crew of Palestinian repairmen.

We Are All Made of Glue seems like an unlikely forum and Georgie an unlikely character to addresses sensitive issues like the British healthcare system and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but Lewycka pulls it off with aplomb.

Paris, My Sweet: A Year in the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate)

I am truly, madly, and deeply in love with Paris. I spent one magical semester there and can honestly say I was completely happy and content the entire time. The only thing I love more than Paris is chocolate, so I was drawn to Amy Thomas’s memoir Paris, My Sweet: A Year in the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate).

At times, this book can be quite inaccessible. Thomas moved from New York City to Paris. She had a good job in New York. She has a good job in Paris. She spends good chunks of her life eating dessert! Yet she is openly dissatisfied with her life in both cities. Most readers will never have the opportunity to work in an advertising agency and eat chocolate in either city and don’t really want her to complain about her lifestyle.

On the other hand, she is very honest. I wondered how her New York friends felt reading about how distant she felt from them when she visited the city and how desperately she wanted to return to Paris, only to discover Paris was equally dissatisfying. I appreciate her honesty. And the truth is that even people who seem to have a charmed life and get to eat cakes and cookies for a living have the right to emotions and disappointments like the rest of us.

Gone Girl

The first part of Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl is an engrossing mystery. I have watched too many 48 Hours mysteries not to be fascinated by the story of a missing wife, an unhappy husband, and a bizarre crime scene. Flynn does a good job of describing and capturing the emotions of disappointments in marriage, and I think many readers can relate at some level to those feelings. I recommend this book because of the first half only.

The second half of the book goes awry. I was initially drawn to the mystery because I could relate. I understood the struggles of marriage. I could see the main characters as people I might actually know. All those feelings—all that sympathy with the characters—was blown away in the second half of the book and I only finished reading out of horrible curiosity about horrible people and not because I cared a jot about the story or characters.

Paris in Love

I am in love with Paris. I spent one magical fall there as an intern and have visited the city multiple times. Just thinking about Paris makes my heart flutter with excitement. So how could I resist picking up Eloisa James’s memoir Paris in Love?

James describes the Paris I love. Her book lacks the pretension that seems to ooze from other Paris memoirs I have recently read. She shares facebook status updates and ordinary experiences from her daily life. She brings to life the sites, the sounds, the smells, the tastes of Paris but also talks about her children’s struggles to adapt and even the ups and downs of their dog, Milo. James reveals herself as a real person and makes Paris accessible to real people, yet still maintains the city’s charm.

Just writing about this book makes me miss Paris. Now I just have to figure out a way to get back.