KimberlyFish

Driftwood Summer and Summer Shift

Driftwood Summer and Summer Shift were two books I bought from Barron’s summer reading table–summer, you see the theme? There’s just something about hot afternoons and sunshine glare that make me want to find a cool fan and stretch out on the hammock with a breezy book. These two definitely fit the bill—just look at their titles. Driftwood Summer was a delightful read, as charming as a tide rolling in and out. Very authentic and gripping via its family dramas. I did wish for more romance though, Patti Callahan Henry had set things up nicely. But those relationship were implied for later. The here and now was all about rebuilding sister’s fractured relationships. Summer Shift was a little harder for me to get into. It also took place in a shoreside community, a busy restaurant scene and a catastrophe that brings people together—its just that these people didn’t seem to have as much hope as the characters in the Georgia book. I guess that’s what draws me to characters–do they have a sense of hope? I can ride with them along torturous journeys, if they seem to have an ounce of hope in satisfying resolution–but character without hope? I guess I don’t see a reason to keep on reading. You decide which book touches you, but for me I’ll keep on reading.

An Ode to Susan Elizabeth Phillips

I met Susan Elizabeth Phillips at a writer’s conference one year and told her the first book of hers that I read (Fancy Pants) was one of the most entertaining novels I’d ever read and still today it would rank high in my top twenty. The other nineteen books would also be largely made up of SEP novels. The woman knows how to craft memorable characters thrown into unforgettable situations. And though sometimes her characters seem awfully familiar from book to book, she’s still a magician with dialogue and development. Through Kindle, I downloaded two novels I’d never read of hers and devoured them this weekend. Who knew SEP had tried her hand at historical romance? Every agent I’ve heard discuss this issue say never stray from what works (what sells) –that is don’t crossover genres. Just Imagine (a dumb title and I’d even tell her that) breaks that trend. It is set in post Civil War South Carolina and New York and a little bit in Texas. Though a reader might be inclined to think this is SEP’s version of Gone With The Wind, I wouldn’t. Too much of what is organic to all SEP novels is right there on those humid, pre-Industrial age pages; a scrappy heroine too stubborn for her own good and a larger than life hero who can’t resist getting involved. Maybe that does sound a bit GWTW. Since hours after finishing Just Imagine I started reading Honey Moon, I saw up close how SEP never strays from the female character arc that has made her stories bestsellers. Though this female character, Honey Jane Moon, was one of the most scarred I’d ever read in one of her stories. Actually everyone in the story was scarred and flawed and just inches away from self-destruction. This story was a twist on the SEP formula, and it was a good one. I can see where her later novels are more breezy and blingy, these earlier books are grittier and pack more of an emotional wallop. One year, maybe I’ll try to read her novels in published sequential order so I can trace the footsteps of one of America’s favorite romance writers, but it won’t be any time soon. I’m too invested in looking at my manuscripts and getting them polished. In the mean time, I’ll think about those memorable scenes of character development and pray that I write something with the same deftness as my much-admired Susan Elizabeth Phillips.

Another Summer

It’s that time of year when I crave a beach book. Something fun, light-hearted that gives me a mental vacation. So wandering my favorite independent bookstore, Barrons, the other day. I bought three books from Vickie’s summer reading table. I just finished, Another Summer. Georgia Bockoven’s novel about a house and it’s summer renters was charming and delightful. I was so intrigued by the prologue that I really wanted more from those characters, but that wasn’t the direction of the novel. If you’re in the mood for a good story about a rocky cove outside Santa Cruz,California and the lovely people who live there then buy this book.

Songbird Under a German Moon

This novel by Tricia Goyer has special meaning for me because a) its set in an area Mel and I lived twenty years ago b) I’ve sat through one of Wagner’s Ring operas in that Festspielhaus c) I chatted with her for research purposes related to this novel. On top of it being a sweeping good story, I feel so connected to the plot! This is part of her WW II collection and takes an interesting angle with the post WW II pause as Americans were still stationed in Germany after the war.  It’s an easy read and one that is sure to resonate with anyone who has an interest in the music of that era. Don’t pass this one up!

Recent Books

Since school has wrapped up for summer, and I finished edits on a novel with my editor, I’ve actually had time to read. Of the four books I will list  one I loved, one made me laugh out loud and two I had to work to finish.

Jacqueline Winspear’s The Mapping of Love and Death was the sixth (?) in the Maisie Dobb’s series and I was a fan of the earnest private detective making her way in a male dominated society from the first page of book one. This new novel has moved the reader a few months farther down the road of Maisie’s life and introduced a character, that though murdered, is imminently intriguing. Ms. Winspear must have an inexhaustible reference for World War One and in particular British life during those times. Once again, I was with Maise through her turmoils with Maurice and the bloom of romance with James. I’ll patiently wait for the next novel.

Years ago, I read Franky Schaeffer’s Portofino and thought it was one of the funniest novels I’d read because I could relate to the family. This second novel in the Swiss missionaries life, Zermatt, deals frankly with a young boy’s deflowering, male depression and questions of faith, but I laughed so hard I cried at their antics. Mainly because this man (son of Francis Schaeffer) knows intimately well the conflicts of conservative evangelicals and he has a deft hand at pointing fingers at their eccentricities. (Of which I seem to have a few too.)

I read two authors new to me, Dorothea Benton Frank (Bulls Island) and Cathleen Schine (The Three Weissmanns of Westport) but honestly, for all their literary connections and acclaim, did not connect with either of the stories or their characters.

Two Books in One Week!

Okay, that might not be a real impressive statistic,but in light of the hectic schedule around my house (grad parties, church events, recitals, etc.) it’s a feat. I received a copy of Lisa Wingate’s soon to be released novel, Beyond Summer (the cover is pretty) and started in immeadiatly because I love everything she writes. Lisa does two line of fiction–one more romance driven and one more women’s fiction driven. The stories she sets on Blue Sky Hill (an imaginary Dallas suburb that’s seen hard times) fall into the latter category. This is third in a loosely linked series that began with A Month of Summer, then The Summer Kitchen and now, Beyond Summer. She writes such relatable characters with a wry sense of humor that you’re cheering folks on from the first chapter. I recommend this and all Lisa Wingate books.

Second, I’d read on one of the blogs I subscribe to that Irene Hannon’s book, In Harm’s Way, was climbing the best seller’s lists and when I was out the other day and saw a copy, I snatched it up (paying first, of course.) It was very well written and she certainly knows the romantic suspense craft but I had some reservations with falling head over heels for the story. Don’t let that stop you from reading her though, she knows her stuff.

Since this is high school graduation week at our house, I don’t know when I’ll get time with another novel. The relatives are coming. But the next time  I post, maybe I’ll be a bit more relaxed and a lot less sleep deprived.

Castle

Late on Monday evenings, I hike back up the stairs to post some of my favorite lines from the previously watched Castle episode on ABC. I’m not sure how this Facebook status turned into something people expect, but I’ve had folks say they look forward to reading which dialogue I liked best. One friend even mentioned that when she watched the episode, she KNEW which one was I was going to post about. All that being said, you must know I love the witty banter on Castle. This past week, I missed the episode because we had company. When I asked other Facebook friends to tell me which lines they liked, I had one write that she’d never watched Castle till that Monday and wasn’t too impressed. She said Castle (as in Rick Castle, the main character) was weak. Hmm. I had to think about that one and it didn’t take long to come up with a rebuttal. She was right. (I never said it was a brilliant piece of deduction.) I don’t know who writes for the show, but I’ve come to the conclusion that Castle is the 2009-10 version of a politically-correct, metro-sexual man. He’s America’s answer to Hugh Grant. Granted the actor, Nathan Fillion, just plays the part, but Rick Castle is handsome in a non-threatening manner, hopelessly clueless about women, charming/debonair, more comfortable around the elite than the criminal, and always being pulled up short by every smarter-savvier-than-he-is-woman in his life (to include his mother, daughter, and his proposed love interest.) He’s as cute, cuddly and harmless as a Maltese.

HELLO!! Is this really what women want? Can the Kate Beckett character (who’s tough as nails no matter how she looks in red lingerie) really and with any credibility fall for a guy that she can beat in arm wrestle? I was drawn to this show because of the banter–maybe I’ve never gotten over the old Rock Hudson/Doris Day movies (or Moonlighting, for that matter) but I’ve just realized that in this show Castle is the blond. What does this say about our culture that the man we’re conditioned to admire is really just weak and  hapless even if he is fabulously wealthy. I’m pretty sure there’s a good explanation, so why don’t you tell me your opinion.

Water for Elephants

I bought this book on one of the sale bins at a big box store–surprised that it was there. Wasn’t that like finding a diamond in the straw field? I’d heard people chat up the novel, so I paid all of $5.99 and brought it home where it collected dust on my reading table for months. Poor book. If covers have feelings this one would have been blue. BUT, here in an insane time in my family’s life (son graduating high school, husband caught up in a local bond election battle, daughter trying out for officer on her drill team, and me with writing deadlines) I decided that I need a spot of fun so I opened the book and started reading about Jacob Janokowsi, a man either 91 or 93. It wasn’t long before I realized this was a gritty, portrayal of depression-era circus life totally unlike anything I’d expected. (It’s not hard to care for the elephants more than the people after reading of their conditions.) Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a fun read, but it was gripping. And with the detailed research Sara Gruen weaves into the story, a very dark story arises from behind the curtain. I’d known about the squalid conditions, but reading a novelized account of them makes the stink smell bad–real bad. Can’t say I loved this book. But I won’t forget it.

Musings from a Southern state of mind

I’ll be honest, I usually post if I have some literary reason to do so–books to review, movies to grouse about. But I’ve been so swamped with end of the year activities related to my son’s high school graduation and my 15-year-old daughter’s dramatic life (drill team tryouts, formals, boyfriends, hormones, grades, driving, etc… ) that getting some face time with book pages is nothing more than a fond memory. The last movie I saw was in January. Why is it the thing I need most — a fiction vacation courtesy of someone else’s angst and glamour–is farthest away when I’m desperate. I tell you why, its because I’m living in the moment.  That’s probably a good thing as living in the past has been well-documented as a psychiatric condition. And living in the future . .  well that doesn’t work so well for a lady stalled in traffic who still has to wash the laundry, cook the dinner, remember what time the carpool drop offs are, and has a pile of writing deadlines sitting next to her dusty laptop. So do you want to know how I cope? I’m mean this is as close to a state secret as I can share and not be turned in to the FBI’s most wanted list. I dream. When I have those five minutes after my head has hit the pillow and before I go into a snoring coma, I spend a few minutes in my fantasy life. (Men have fantasy football so don’t judge.) I go to my Southern state of mind. Sometimes it’s a rustic cabin on a lonely lake in North Georgia, sometimes its a hip beach cottage next door to some artsy hippies on Amelia Island, sometimes its a chic apartment overlooking Atlanta, but always I’m thin, glamorous and highly successful. Dreaming has the same magic of fiction, its just that I get to star in all the action scenes. So, if you like me, are overwhelmed with  responsibilities, then savor those five minutes at night with your own personal, on-going story starring none other than the most perfect version of you. I’ll bet you, like me, won’t be afraid to zip line across Stone Mountain, or ride bare back through the surf on St. Simon’s, or ski down the double blacks of Vail while being chased by George Clooney. See, already you’re smiling and that–as Martha would say–is a good thing. If you’ll bear with my musings for a few weeks until I can get past graduation, then I’ll get back to reviewing books (could I be indulging in mental avoidance to distract myself from shock that my first baby is graduating? Not touching that one with a ten-foot pole.)

Until next time, sweet dreams.

She Walks in Beauty

She Walks in Beauty is the title of Siri Mitchell’s gilded age, historical fiction novel–it’s also one of the most delightful lines of poetry ever penned. And Lord Byron factors into this novel via a first edition keepsake for our main character, Clara. I’d love to go on and on about Siri’s engaging characters and fascinating time period–if you’ve loved Edith Wharton’s novels you love Siri’s–but I have a sunburn and I’m a bit too achey to go on and on about anything. As I was on the deck reading about Victorian women who’d cinch their waists and essentially develop anorexia to achieve the desirable 16″ waist that was the rage back then, I was in a non-corseted swim suit exposing winterized skin to the sun for the first time in 2010. I’m afraid I got a bit too wrapped up in the forced courtship of the main characters to recognized that my skin had fried. So, before I submerge myself in aloe vera, trust me on this . . .this novel, like the others books I’ve read by Siri, is wonderful. Her research is refreshing in its unusual details and observations and her style is excellent. Now . . .where’s my ibuprofen and orange juice chaser?? Read the rest of this entry »