A Few Pairs Of Boy Shorts

22663193The Beginning of Everything by Robyn Schneider
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I guess I’m a sucker for happy endings. I like it when life works out in a neat little package wrapped in red ribbon and blue paper, and I find the warm, gooey center filled with sugar and jam. But sometimes life kicks you in the ass, staples your forehead to the living room carpet, and then swipes your lunch money.

While it would have been easy to call this novel cheesy, and then add a bit of sap and honey for good measure, I don’t feel as though that truly sums up THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING. Of course, if that’s how you would like to view it, and then move on with your life, I can understand where you are coming from, and respect your decision. But I do think you have to dig a little deeper on this one, and pull out your backhoe (that you just happen to have lying around) instead of your shovel.

When I did this, I discovered a world where Ezra Faulkner had a big head on his shoulders, and brushed off all the folks who could have helped him make a difference. But then his leg was shattered in a tragic accident, and he was forced to reinvent himself. Rather than crying over his iPhone, and watching House reruns, he got his shit together, and took the racket off his shoulder. And I respected and admired his decision.

Cassidy Thorpe might have more than a few pairs of boy shorts and button down shirts in her possession, but she’s beautiful on the inside and out, even if she has a slightly different perception of herself in the bathroom mirror. And, yes, I may have looked at her with a bit more than just fond affection.

I sucked this novel up through a straw in three days’ time, and the teenager inside of me (and all of us) was more than happy with my decision. The romance was beautiful and thrilling, even if it kicked me in the pants at the end, the dialogue was intriguing and spot-on, the pace proved to be both intriguing and interesting and just about right, and the characters were just odd and awkward enough to help me reminisce my high school years.

If you’d like to rediscover your teenage self, then you might want to take a peek behind the curtain, and see what this particular book has in store for you. You might just be glad you did.

Suck Your Soul Out Of Your Body

20078609One of Us by Tawni O’Dell
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

If you look up the term cold-hearted bitch in the dictionary, you’re liable to find a picture of Scarlet Dawes. She has evil figured out so well she could suck your soul out of your body from three feet away. And then she’d kick your decaying corpse with her stiletto heel while carrying her Gucci purse. She’s so evil that her mom resorted to the gin and tonic years ago (heavy on the gin light on the tonic), and her dad was born without a soul, and there’s an empty void where his heart should be. I bet their Christmas cards are wonderful.

Dr. Sheridan Doyle knows how to fill out a pair of high end jeans and Cole Haan loafers and finish up the ensemble with a tailored coat. But he also still hasn’t completely outgrown his awkward phase now that’s he back home, and dealing with more than a few of his own demons. He’s a strong, confident man who still has a little boy lingering underneath his covers.

By dividing the book in sections and including multiple perspectives, I really started to feel like one of the family, even if the clan was a bit demented, and would probably eat my heart and liver with a spoon. The pace was more of a slow, heated burn, like sitting out in the Pennsylvania sun for two hours too long in the middle of August. And my West Virginia roots appreciated the mining subplot and small town background. ONE OF US offered up plenty of enjoyment, even if it managed to produce a few nightmares in the process. So grab your sleeping pills and sunscreen because it’s liable to be a bumpy ride.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Firing Squad Of Disappointment

18364487Chance: A Novel by Kem Nunn
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

If the bar is a psychological thriller pace, then CHANCE didn’t measure up. It moved at a slow, leisurely pace instead of an all-out race. The vocabulary and sentence structure weighed in with a bit more heft than one might expect from your typical thriller, but I still felt shortchanged in the end. I had higher hopes for this tale, but I ended up facing the firing squad of disappointment with my head lowered and my hands held high.

Jackie Black proved a bit more intriguing as a character than the prim and proper Jaclyn Blackstone, and Dr. Eldon Chance certainly had more than a few issues to work through. And there were other characters with issues to spare, leading the charge of disparity and marching out of step. Which did up the interest but I still managed to end up less than fully engaged. What made me shift a little more to the left was the forgettable nature of this troublesome tale.

Nothing really stood out for me. Instead of being twisted in knots, I found myself sorely lacking in the suspense department, and maybe I didn’t know about the bomb underneath the table that was about to go off, or the detective with the threats that seemed a little less demanding than I would have preferred. Either way, I ended the tale somewhat impressed with the writing but feeling as though the story lacked more than a few thrills.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

One Long Diatribe

18401347The Good Luck of Right Now by Matthew Quick
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I should have written Richard Gere more letters. Heck, I should have written him one letter. One long diatribe where I offered up all of my feelings and emotions, thoughts on the Chinese government and Tibet, and all the women who have entered my life and then exited en masse, telling my story in a series of letters over a period of months or maybe it was years (I forgot), but if my source of inspiration for writing said letters is rifling through my mom’s underwear drawer, I’m glad I completely missed that memo.

If you like quirky characters that have a penchant for four-letter words, a woman who may be emotionally available through the aid of multiple therapy sessions, and a man who at thirty-eight years of age has no idea how to live without his mother, then sister have I got the story for you. You may want to sit down for this one, and read it while under the influence of prescription medication, otherwise you might smile at inopportune moments, like your neighbor’s funeral, or the sendoff of your favorite goldfish.

If Matthew Quick in any way resembles his characters, then he has more than a few quirks, and from my previous experience with playing in my own sandbox, there’s nothing wrong with a few idiosyncrasies. In fact, life hands you a Benjamin Franklin every time you come up with wonderfully original ones. If you don’t believe me, just ask Bartholomew Neil, or maybe you’re better off speaking with Matthew Quick. Either way, just make sure you wash your hands first.

THE GOOD LUCK OF RIGHT NOW had me galloping toward the finish with my hands up in the air. Without too much effort, I can safely say my enjoyment reached both hands, and then my brain, as I waited with bated breath for what I might discover within the confines of the next letter. If I were to dangle out on a limb in the middle of a windstorm, I might even call it inspiring. But that’s the kind of deduction you should make on your own, while not under the influence of prescription medication.

Sharpen My Pencil

18142427Life Drawing by Robin Black
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

Clearly, I must have read a different novel than my compatriots. I swear to you I didn’t do it on purpose. NetGalley must have sent me the wrong book via cyberspace; I downloaded it to my Kindle, and then remained entirely detached throughout most of this tale. Which as I write this puts me in the minority, and not just any minority, mind you, a minority that currently hovers at 6%. I pride myself on being different, but my sandbox must be on another planet, and I sure as shit hope it’s not Pluto, otherwise I’m bound to run out of oxygen before I even make it out of the earth’s atmosphere.

Normally, I avoid quoting the book’s synopsis, but I draw your attention to these two sentences: With lyrical precision and taut, suspenseful storytelling, Black steadily draws us deeper into a world filled with joys and darkness, love and sorrows, a world that becomes as real as our own. Life Drawing is a novel as beautiful and unsparing as the human heart. What could have possibly gone wrong, you might ask? Every damn thing. I don’t question Robin Black’s talent as a writer, and there might have even been lyrical precision contained within the 256 pages, but I felt no suspense, no real connection to this world, or the characters.

Instead of characters with heart and beauty, I was dealt Gus and Owen, both of whom had massive sticks stuffed up their bums, and frankly, Alison and Nora weren’t much better. I did begin to question whether or not I’d actually make it to the end, which did add a layer of suspense, but I don’t believe it’s what the author or publisher intended. I wouldn’t call the story beautiful, but it did contain an element of narcissistic realism, and therefore, could just as easily have taken place on reality television with a couple of hopeful supermodels and wanna-be actors blanketed in the wonderful utopia otherwise known as LA.

Maybe it was the wrong book at the wrong time, or maybe I just missed the point (wouldn’t be the first time), or maybe I have the IQ of a slug. Whatever it is, I shall slink back in my shell, change my clocks, sharpen my pencil, and set my sights elsewhere.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Feel Nothing And Everything

19747310Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell
My Rating: 5/5 Stars

Nothing beats young love. Nothing. That first kiss, the newness of it, the way your tongue combines with hers, and you’re ready to scream and run through the halls, pounding on lockers as you make your way to the principal’s office, and you’re convinced there’s no such thing in the world, no words to describe this wonderful, penetrating sensation. No one else has experienced what you’re feeling right now, at this particular moment, instant really, when two worlds collide, and your heart stops for a second, and then another, and you feel so much, so much that it hurts, and maybe you’re ready to burst, from this goodness and wonderfulness. You’re fucking ecstatic, filled with hope and pride, and you’re like a freight train ready to collide. ELEANOR & PARK made me feel all of that in 336 pages, and probably a hell of a lot more. It took me about a day to process all of my emotions, and this sticky goodness that attached itself to my beating heart, and it’ll probably take me a few more days to come back to reality.

When the novel first started, it wasn’t a match made in heaven. In fact, I didn’t like Eleanor, and Park wasn’t much better. Even the first time they sat together on the bus, it was more out of pity than any real emotional connection. As for the back and forth perspective, I’ll admit I wasn’t all that into it at first either. It seemed too quick and fleeting at times, and then it all seemed to fall perfectly into place, like the stars and moon and heaven aligned. Like this novel, and my life, and maybe the constellations aligned to bring us together, and the dialogue proved quicker and sharper than I could have possibly hoped, and the story sped up like a locomotive, and my mind went into overdrive, as the pages flew by. And I read the whole damn thing in one day. That ought to tell you something right there, because normally I spread my novels out over at least a couple of days. Sometimes longer.

And then we reached the climax and finale. That ending: I feel like my life just ended.

I feel nothing and everything at the same time. Like the best relationship of my life just ended, and I had no say in the matter, and now I need a box of antidepressants and maybe an entire bar of chocolate and an ice cream cone. Like I can’t stop feeling, like the whole world is filled with this energy that I’ve harnessed for myself, and that I can’t contain it even if I wanted to. But I don’t want to contain it. I don’t want any of it to stop or end, because I might never feel this way again. It spans excited and happy, pain and sorrow, sadness and anger, empty and raw. When will this emotional roller-coaster end?

Turn To Amy Bloom

untitledLucky Us: A Novel by Amy Bloom
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

If I want to learn how to turn a phrase, and fill my life with words and sentences that will make your world spin, I shall to turn to Amy Bloom. If I want to fill my world with characters like Iris and Eva, who may not be the most likeable characters on the block, and yet still get you to continue reading, continue your evaluation of a novel all the way to the end, I shall turn to Amy Bloom. If I want to find a historical novel during the period of the Holocaust, where the world was filled with despair and hate, and yet find some token of goodness to keep your spirits up, I shall turn to Amy Bloom.

If I want to hold onto hope even as I turn my head away, and find myself somehow lost along the road that never ends, I shall turn to Amy Bloom. If I want to think about a story after I have finished a novel, where worlds have collided, and my feelings have not subsided, I shall turn to Amy Bloom. If I want to hear phrases that speak and words that sing in a compact tale of less than 260 pages, I shall turn to Amy Bloom. If I want rich characters, filled with thought, and dialogue that’s both realistic and possibly experimental, I shall turn to Amy Bloom. If I want to call myself lucky, or maybe refer to ourselves as LUCKY US, I shall turn to Amy Bloom.

And if you want to read a familial saga told over a period of years with strong women and even stronger prose, maybe you should too.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Separation Of Church And State

18586573The Butcher by Jennifer Hillier
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

On the one hand, I could give this book a scathing review, clap my hands together and walk away; on the other, I could do a bit more analysis, delve a bit deeper than its rusty surface, and throw in a few psychobabble terms for my handful of diligent readers out there. Let’s see, I think we’ll go with Option B, Alex, and let’s make it for $600, just to make things interesting. And…here…we…go.

More than a few reviewers have been less than generous, and if I could offer up a deduction, I’d say it stems from the following sentence: “A thriller with taut, fast-paced suspense, and twists around every corner, The Butcher will keep you guessing until the bitter, bloody end.” This, unfortunately, does not do Jennifer Hillier any favors, as THE BUTCHER is not that type of novel. To be perfectly blunt about it, another publisher has fucked an author in the ass. If I were king for a day, I’d probably fire more than one marketing department, and send them back to school for their MBAs. Because we certainly didn’t learn that shit in any marketing class I ever took. But in my experience, most publishers are experts in publishing, not marketing, and yes there is separation of church and state, at least in this case. Sorry, the chopper interrupted my train of thought. Let’s move on, shall we?

Instead of taking a cleaver to this tale, I actually was rather happy to bump and bounce along through the streets of Seattle with Pike Place firmly etched in my rearview. Sure, the characters might have been a bit one-dimensional—Matt and Edward were certainly no exception—but that was all part of the experience. Sam, on the other hand, proved a tad more interesting, at least in my estimation. Even though the killer is revealed in the first 30 pages, the real fun is in seeing how it all goes down on the playground, and what will await us at the end of our journey.

With a clipped pace and bodies stacking up to the left and right, I found myself rushing forward with both hands in front of my face to swat away errant limbs and branches. And, yes, you have to be of a particular persuasion to enjoy this tale, since it covers sunny topics like rape and incest and murder.

So, yes, we can castrate the author or the novel for what it isn’t based on the last paragraph in the description, or you can expunge that last sentence from your brain (as I did) and focus on what this particular novel is. If you can reach a separation of church and state, then you may have found yourself a winner.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

New York City Morgue

22411Invisible Prey by John Sandford
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I love “That Fuckin’ Flowers.” He may not be the main show or even a Romeo, but he’s one hilarious bastard. He may need to spend a bit more time at the range, and there’s the distinct possibility he’s more interested in writing and fly fishing than he is detective work, but that just makes him memorable and interesting.

The usual suspects populate INVISIBLE PREY, so if you’re familiar with Lucas Davenport and Weather and Kidd, you’ll feel right at home. But if this is your first rodeo, then I should probably ask you “Where the hell have you been for the past 25 years?” By my calculations there are 24 Davenport novels and 8 Flowers novels, plus you have the Kidd novels, and yeah, I’m probably missing a few along with some screws.

The pace jerked me more than a socket wrench; the bodies stacked up faster than a New York City morgue; there were antiques and robberies and a few dichotomies; and smack dab in the middle stood Lucas Davenport in all of his infinite glory. Was it the best Prey novel I’ve ever read? It’s really hard to say, because I’ve read them in spurts and squirts, but it’s a damn good read if you’re into that sort of thing.

Pure Conjecture

6569735Dark Places by Gillian Flynn
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Gillian Flynn scares the shit out of me. Whilst this is nothing more than pure conjecture, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn she was a serial killer in a former life, or that she stabs bunnies and kittens and hamsters and toy poodles during her spare time (for research purposes). Sure, she has her shit together, but she has an interesting way of sprinkling her love for Kansas across 368 ink-splattered pages. It begs the question: What would she do with a state like California and in a city like LA? The LA tourism board probably has had many a sleepless night just mulling over what this superbly talented author could do. Future headline in the Los Angeles Times: Tourism down 31% in three weeks. And if I were Kemper, I’d search for land elsewhere. I hear Antarctica isn’t bad this time of year. If you need a recommendation, I’ll put you in touch with Kate Upton.

Seriously, though, DARK PLACES dropped me in a dank forest in the middle of the night, shaved my head, punched me in the gut, stabbed me in the throat, and then kicked me in the crotch, all within the first 250 pages or so. If you want to learn about man’s inhumanity to man, I can’t think of many authors that do it better. But if you don’t want to be sucking applesauce through a straw, hooked up to a catheter, and have a nurse that resembles the Joker wield a scalpel near your jugular, you might want to point yourself in the direction of the latest Disney movie (probably not Maleficent) and get yourself a handful of gummy bears.

Libby and Ben Day had more than a few things to say, and quite possibly needed an intervention. While I probably would have enjoyed this more if I had even one character I could root for (even the mother made me shudder and cringe), that wouldn’t be realistic in this particular world. Maybe I had to enter the right frame of mind to meander my way from beginning to end, but once I found purchase on this particular surface, I rushed toward the conclusion without any particular illusions. And then discovered I needed a shower and shave and a nightlight to help me make it until it dawn.