theirresponsiblereader's reviews
532 reviews

Below the Falls by Ross McMeekin

challenging dark emotional reflective slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 
 

What’s Below the Falls About? 

This is a diverse collection of 25 short stories (some very short, some not). I’m struggling to say more than that about it. 

The title comes from the first story, but it applies pretty well to the collection as a whole. Some more directly than others. Each story does deal with the effects of a fall–metaphorically, naturally (with an exception or two). Sometimes the protagonist is the one who fell (or is falling), sometimes they’re next to or observing the fall, maybe dealing the the consequences of it.* 

* I fought hard against the impulse to say “dealing with the fallout” there. 

The Publisher’s description puts it this way: 

Two climbers in the North Cascades risk their friendship and lives ascending a frozen waterfall. The girlfriend of a famous comedian in Greenwich Village must decide whether she wants to raise a child in the spotlight of fame. A mysterious Bird of Paradise makes daily overtures to an elderly widow in the frigid Midwest. A Texas fracking mogul struggles to find the love his money prevents. The deeply rendered American landscapes of these stories emerge as a vital background for characters faced with conflicts that cannot be easily resolved, illuminating interior worlds filled with contradiction.

 
I might have picked other stories for the blurb, but then again, those are probably some of the easiest to summarize in a sentence.
 
So, what did I think about Below the Falls?
Like most short story collections, this is a mixed bag. And your results are going to vary (perhaps wildly) from mine. Which sounds like I’m trying to weasel out of giving a firm opinion, but it isn’t.

There’s a meme that I see everywhere (except for now when I’m looking for it) that says something about running across a sentence that makes you close your book for a while to sit and think about it. Nearly every story in this collection has one or two of those sentences, or at least sentences that I had to read a couple of times just to appreciate them.

Too often, those sentences were all I had to commend a particular story, however. My notes are filled with comments like, “why?”, “a plot would’ve been helpful here”*, or “what was the point?”

* Yes, yes, yes–they’re not always needed for compelling reading. But they are sometimes.

However…the other stories more than made up for that. For example, an early story was described above as “A mysterious Bird of Paradise makes daily overtures to an elderly widow in the frigid Midwest” story (“Small Firey Bloom”). It was haunting, beautiful, and is probably what kept me going after a rough start.

I’m not going to list the others that were as good–without getting into too much detail, it’d be hard to describe my reactions in a meaningful way. But more importantly, anyone who reads this collection is going to end up disagreeing with me about which ones I was knocked out by and which ones I found skippable or pointless.

So, I’ll just leave it with this–there’s a lot of dross in this collection. But there’s also some of the shiniest gold you’re going to find, too. You’ll have to do some sifting, some panning, and maybe even some chiseling to get it–but you’ll be so glad you did.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from the author and Lori Hettler of The Next Best Book Club in exchange for this post and my honest take—thanks to both for this.
 

Takeout Sushi by Christopher Green

challenging emotional lighthearted reflective medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s Takeout Sushi About? 

This is a collection of 17 stories—13 taking place in contemporary Japan, and 4 in other parts of the world and other times. 

It’s difficult to describe a common theme or anything with this collection—you’ve got one crime story, one thing that straddles Science Fiction and Contemporary Fiction, and then a few that fall under slice-of-life kind of things. I’d compare them to the shorter works of Raymond Carver, John Cheever, or John Updike—at least in the kind of stories he’s telling, I’m not equipped to talk about literary quality. I will say that I liked most of these better than almost everything I read by those guys. 

Characters in the Stories 

Speaking generally, these stories focus on one person, with 1-3 other characters. I guess that’s frequently the case for short stories in general, but as I read it, this collection felt more focused on an individual or two rather than the outside world. 

With several of these, I have the impression I got to know the protagonist as well as I do some characters in 400-page novels—Green has a real gift for getting us up close and personal to his characters. And, I guess, we really don’t get to know these people all that well—but in the moment, you’ll be convinced you know them better than their own mothers or psychiatrists.* 

* That’s a joke, I can’t imagine any of these people seeing a psychiatrist. Most should, however. 

Mawage 

There’s probably an entire post to be written about the marriages depicted in the book—and, on the whole, the institution doesn’t come out looking to good. There are a couple of exceptions—and one promises to be better soon after the story’s events (thanks to an oddly sympathetic police officer). But, particularly early on, my notes are full of comments about the strange and (often) strained relationships between husband and wife depicted here. 

I will say this—Green is fairly even-handed in what partner is “the problem.” Too many collections like this would tend to paint the wife negatively—or the husband—but Green bounced back and forth between the two. 

Basically, don’t give this as a Valentine’s Day gift. 

So, what did I think about Takeout Sushi? 

Almost every time I talk about a short-story collection, I end up saying something like, “there were some real winners, and some that didn’t do much for me, I expect you’ll find the same (just with a different list of stories in each category).” I hate to repeat myself, buuuuuut… 

Now, those that were real winners were just amazingly good. “Laugh out loud from surprise because you didn’t expect to read something that skillfully done and imaginative” good (and occasionally laugh out loud because of the conclusion). Those that didn’t rise to that level (in my estimation, I stress), did absolutely nothing for me. I even re-read a couple of them to see if I could figure out what I missed—I just didn’t understand the point of them. There was one exception to that—the penultimate story, “The Pool.” It was effective and affective—and completely not for me—but at least I got it. 

A few years ago, I read a short story by Russell Day called “Not Talking Italics.” It blew me away and started a years-long obsession with Day and his shorter and longer pieces. Green’s “Crimes for Dummies” hit me in almost the same way. My note at the end was just one word: Fantastic. A few others were almost as good (“The Choice”)—or better (“Spinning Wheels”). 

I’m not going to say any more about them because it would rid those stories of their punch. But those three more than justify the purchase price of the book—whatever you end up spending on it. 

As usual, I’m more than prepared for people to come along and tell me that “The Pool” was brilliant (and explain why), or that “Spinning Wheels” was silly or derivative of something. Because tastes differ—as they should. 

In any case, I expect that whoever picks up this collection are going to frequently have a real blast with it—and a couple of things to shrug at before diving into the next one that will get them giddy with excitement. 

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from Neem Tree Press and The Write Reads via NetGalley. 

Great Minds on Small Things: The Philosophers Guide to Everyday Life by Matt Qvortrup

funny informative lighthearted fast-paced

3.5

 ★ ★ ★ 1/2 (rounded up)
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
---
WHAT'S GREAT MINDS ON SMALL THINGS ABOUT?
In 1764, Voltaire published Dictionnaire philosophique. In 1957, Roland Barthes published Mythologies. In 1987, Quiddities: An Intermittently Philosophical Dictionary was published by W. V. Quine. Taking a little something from all of these (and others), in 2023, Matthew Qvortrup brought us Great Minds on Small Things: The Philosophers' Guide to Everyday Life.

This is a (brief) survey of what philosophers from Plato to George Santayana, and several points between (and a little spillover on either side) have to say about topics that aren't usually thought of as subjects of philosophical meditation. More like things discussed over beers with coworkers and friends, pontificated on by stand-up comics, or things that people mutter about on social media between photos of sandwiches or cats.

Rather than the meaning of life, the source of ethics, the nature of the will, or social contracts, Qvortrup collects thoughts on things like artichokes, smoking, hiccups, sports, sports, and more sports. Told with a little bit of humor and a clear familiarity with the thinkers and writers he's covering and quoting, Qvortrup's survey is both entertaining and educational.

THE BREADTH OF TOPICS 
Qvortrup hits on so many things--here's a (very non-exhaustive) list that I compiled to give you a taste (the categories are mine, Qvortrup lists things alphabetically). The things I didn't jot down are just as varied and strange, let me add.

Food/Drink
• Artichoke
• Beer
• Breakfast
• Cheese
• Coffee
• Quiche
• Radishes
• Tea
• Tomato Juice
• Wine

Inventions
• Boilers
• Cars
• Ships
• Telephone

Pets
• Cats
• Dogs



Activities
• Baseball
• Basketball
• Dancing
• Football*
• Being Lazy
• Marriage
• Smoking
• Sneezing
• Tennis
• Wrestling

Human Bodies
• Excrement
• Farting
• Hiccups
• Laughter
• Penis
• Ticklishness
• Urination
• Winking
• Wiping (no, really)
• Yawning

 * Sorry, Americans, he means "soccer."

And, sure, while this is about everyday things, Qvortrup does interact with some of the deeper thinkers in (mostly Western) history, and does end up brushing up against some of their deeper thoughts and categories--so, he includes a glossary to help readers like me get through it all.

ONE PROBLEM WITH THE TONE
Yes, I enjoy writers mixing humor (mild or otherwise) with deeper or controversial topics. Even just a lighter touch to writing is a winner for me. And Qvortrup makes this whole thing really amusing.

Sometimes, however, I had a hard time telling when he was exaggerating for humorous effect or just making a joke and when he was conveying actual information in a whimsical way. It doesn't take away the enjoyment from the reading--it just makes it hard to know what you can repeat in conversation or cite in writing (you know, if you're the kind of person who does that.)

SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT GREAT MINDS ON SMALL THINGS?
I had a great time reading this book--it's a great mix of light reading with some interesting perspectives--and can easily be used as a launching point to further reading or research. "So-and-so used baseball to describe X economic principle, I want to see how that actually works out beyond this quick summary." "Hanna Arendt's personal story seems interesting, especially how it is expressed in Topic Y." It's also just fun to think about names you've read about (or maybe read) debating the type of breakfast that's best for productivity or enjoyment of life.

I do think it's best to dip in and out of the book, and not read from cover-to-cover the way I did. When I return, it will be to look at particular topics (not necessarily the ones I listed above).

My major complaint is the brevity of the book--I don't think most of the entries needed to be longer, I just wanted more entries. Some letters only have one thing listed. Sure, it has to be difficult to find everyday things that philosophers have opined about, but now that Qvortrup has shown us some, it's hard to believe there isn't more to see.

Pick this one up, folks, you'll have a good time. 

Rhythm and Clues by Olivia Blacke

hopeful lighthearted mysterious tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s Rhythm and Clues About? 

An old college acquaintance of Juni Jessup has approached her and her sisters with a proposition—he and his partner will invest in Sip & Spin Records, help it succeed—and take a good portion of the profits. Juni and her old (and maybe future) boyfriend, Beau, attend a hockey game with them for a little wining and dining (or beering and snacking) along with the pitch. It’s not the beginning of a Record Shop Mystery that you’d expect, but it’s pretty fun. 

The fun goes away later that night when a monster storm hits their area, knocking out power to the entire town, and threatening to flood buildings as well. Juni and her older sister dash to their store to try to mitigate the damage there. Before you know it, the event readers were waiting for happens—one of the investors is dead outside their shop and Juni is the one who discovers the body. 

The police warn her off—but the surviving partner has heard of Juni’s previous adventures and asks for her help. Which is convenient—because she wanted to look into the murder anyway. 

The storm has made leaving—or entering—Cedar River impossible for a few days, so the murderer is definitely still around. This could be a problem because it seems that everywhere Juni looks, she finds another suspect with plenty of reasons to want that investor gone. Will she be able to find them before they can get out of town? 

The Investors 

For various and sundry reasons (starting with all the roads being washed out), Juni ends up spending a lot of time with the dead man’s business partner and gets to know their business practices much better than she did during their pitch to Juni (or her sisters). 

While they don’t do anything illegal, and probably not strictly unethical either, there’s something about their methods that just don’t sit right with me (or several others in the novel). As a mystery reader, we get to encounter all sorts of unsavory characters and actions that aren’t necessarily illegal, but sure aren’t good. Very often you wonder how realistic they are while hoping some fiendish writer made it all up out of whole cloth (but secretly knowing they didn’t). I suspect that Blacke is sharing something that came up in her research—or something that people she knows have run into for their own small business. 

I truly hope the latter isn’t the case, because I’m sure people like this exist and people suffer because of them. It makes me glad to not own a business and have to worry about it. 

Juni’s Growth 

She’s been on her own for several years, and until an economic hit at her company led to her coming home, seems to have found some sort of success in life. So you’d think she’d come back to town as an adult—and she does, but she also seems to be largely treated as pretty much the same kid she’s always been. And maybe part of that is just coming back to the place where everyone knows you as that kid you were when you went to college and aren’t ready to accept that you’ve grown up. 

But she’s been coming into her own, little by little, over the course of the series—and arguably arrives in this book. Maybe she’s just more comfortable in her own skin and her old hometown. Maybe it’s the way others see her. Probably a little bit of both. It certainly doesn’t hurt things at all the way she keeps finding herself in the middle of murder cases. 

The important thing is that it’d be easy for Blacke to freeze all the characters so that they’re who we met in Vinyl Resting Place for the rest of the series. But she doesn’t do that—Juni’s the most notable example of this, but there are others, too. I’m so glad that Blacke has taken this path, it opens the door up for more changes, more development—and will keep readers like me engaged with the characters and the stories they find themselves in. 

In my post about the last book, I said, “I do worry that at some point the residents of Cedar River are going to decide that Juni’s the Angel of Death having brought so many murders to town with her.” They still might do that—but so far, they’ve gone in another direction. Particularly the first responders in town. There’s a moment involving them and Juni that got me to laugh out loud. And I don’t know how to say more about it than that. 

Juni’s Drinks 

Blacke’s music pun-inspired coffee drink names are as good here as they’ve ever been, if not better. 

Now, I understand why she doesn’t give us too many per novel. But I think she could give her fans some supplemental material—bonus tracks, if you will—just give us some of the seasonal menus from the time between books. Just throwing that out there as an idea. 

That Moment 

When it comes to a lot of procedurals or other mystery shows on TV there’s a moment where the detective sees something or hears something that a friend/coworker says, they get this look in their eye and they dash out of the room, they’ve got the whole thing solved now. Gregory House was great at these—Temperance Brennan is the other prime example that jumps to mind (but I know there are many others). 

It’s hard to depict those moments in novels, however. But you can still see them happening—Juni has one of those here. Well, she starts to anyway, and something comes along to take her out of the moment. For most/all readers, we won’t get taken out of the moment—if anything, we’ll keep going with it and solve the mystery (or at least get a lot closer to it). Blacke really handled that well—a trick I wish she’d teach others. 

While commending her for this, her creation got on my nerves because of it. Juni took forever to circle back to that breakthrough moment and finish her thought. I was so relieved when it happened without me having to climb into the book and shake her by her shoulders until she’d focus. 

So, what did I think about Rhythm and Clues? 

Blacke is really onto something with these books—this is her best yet, and she shows no signs of slowing down (I hope she gets to keep going). The writing was sharp here, the characterizations—particularly of the investors, and the new people Juni encounters during the case—were on point and vivid, the mystery was her best and twistiest yet. The herrings were a bright and lively red—practically vermillion. The resolution was so, so gratifying. 

This series is quickly becoming a solid favorite of mine—I’m never going to be a giant cozy mystery fan, but when I read one that works as well as this one does, I want to go find more. It’s a very clever and fast read, with some heartfelt emotional moments and it brings a lot of smiles to my face. 

I honestly don’t know of a better way to put it or a better reason to commend it to your attention. Rhythm and Clues was as satisfying a read as you’re going to find. You can jump on here or you can get the first two books in the series and have a good time with them first. Either way, I encourage you to track it down. 

Rift in the Soul by Faith Hunter

adventurous emotional tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s Rift in the Soul About? 

As is so often the case with books in this series, there’s a lot going on–issues with Nell and her powers, Nell and her sisters/pets/family, and some sort of supernatural-based crime for starters. So this isn’t going to be exhaustive (I hopefully never am, but I felt like I should say that here). 

Nell is summoned to appear before Ming of Glass, the vampire Master of the City. They’ve had an interesting relationship in the past, and from the moment the two encounter each other in these pages you know things are going to be much more so. Because this book happens after the events of Final Heir and Ming and her vampires aren’t quite like they were last time Nell crossed paths with them. 

There’s a body on Ming’s land that she wants Nell to take away and investigate. Her people aren’t responsible for the death–and none of them understand it. As it’s on Ming’s property, it’s a PsyLED problem. 

Before PsyLED can do anything about it, Nell catches the attention of vampires that aren’t associated with Ming. And…I don’t know what else to say about that beyond, drama, violence, and other tense nouns ensue. 

Oh, and in the middle of all this, Nell has to prepare for Christmas with her expanding family and a wedding. Because even for a PsyLED Special Agent, there’s more to life than just ancient vampires on the hunt. 

The Jane Yellowrock Ripples 

I may spill a bit more from the end of the Yellowrock books than people who haven’t finished might like. If that’s you, read this next paragraph and then skip to the next heading, okay? 

As I’ve said frequently when it comes to this series–if you haven’t read the Jane Yellowrock books that it spun off from, you’re going to be okay. You have all the information you need in the Soulwood books. However, if you have read both, you’re going to get a lot more from the series. 

Boy howdy, is that true here. Yes, it seemed like almost everything got resolved and wrapped up in a pretty little bow at the end of the Yellowrock series. Buuuut…there were enough things dangling to make it seem realistic and maybe allow for short stories from those characters and so on–or, for Soulwood to pick them up and do something with them. 

For example–is everything peachy keen in the vampire world now? Is everyone getting along? (I think we know the answer to that) What does it mean for vampires to have their souls back? That’s a bigger question than this book can really answer, but we get a peek into the answers. 

There are some other things, too–but you should find those out for yourself. 

I found this aspect of the novel very satisfying and it scratched an itch I didn’t realize I had. We don’t see Jane or hear from her directly. But we get to hear a vague update on her and a couple of familiar names pop up to help out here. 

The Vampire Tree/The Green Knight/Soulwood 

Every time we readers–or Nell–seem to think we all have reached some solid conclusions about Nell’s abilities and her land, Hunter comes along, shakes her head at our naiveté, and shows us how little we actually get. 

This is all the clearer when it comes to The Vampire Tree and The Green Knight persona. As both seem to be developing and evolving, it’s understandable that we (readers and Nell) keep being surprised. It’s also kind of nice that we can’t get complacent. Nell was rocked by some of what she experiences in this book–and, reader, you will be, too. You will almost certainly want more details–like 4+ bonus chapters just about these things (you’ll know them when you see them), and will likely have a couple of dozen questions to ask Nell and/or Hunter. 

But wait, there’s more. We get to see the way that Mud and Esther connect to all this–and it is not precisely the same way that Nell does. 

Fans are going to sink their teeth and/or claws into this aspect of the book–and might not care that much about the plot in contrast to this. Well, that might be overstating it–but many fans would be content to hit “pause” on the action for a bit to focus on it. 

Speaking of things that we readers think we understand… 

As one would expect, things (outside of Nell’s personal life) bring us back to God’s Cloud of Glory Church/cult/compound. We end up circling back to events of Blood of the Earth and Curse on the Land in troubling ways. This leads Nell to rethink some of the theories and conclusions she reached back then, and to ask uncomfortable questions. 

It’s only when you get a series to this kind of length that it becomes this rewarding to come back and take a second look at things like this (sorry for the vagueness). But in the light of these new circumstances, it’s good that we readers and Nell get that second look. It really pays off. 

I wouldn’t mind a little less from this group in the future, but I don’t know if that’s possible given the way this series has been build. (at the same time, I don’t mind seeing them, I’m just worried that it’s becoming a rut) 

So, what did I think about Rift in the Soul? 

I don’t want to overstate this, but I’m not sure how I could. Nor am I going to explain this. No future Soulwood book is going to be like the ones that came before this one. Yes, yes, yes–the crimes, the monsters, the magic in each is a different kind of problem. But beyond all that, there’s a lot to each of these books that take on similar shapes, and patterns–just in the characters, but outside that, too. That all changes here. 

And it’s a good thing–as comfortable as it is to watch the same set of investigators run down leads, do some magic, shift into wereforms/other shifts, and so on. A good, healthy series grows and develops–like, a garden or a forest (golly, why would someone think in botanical terms when it comes to this series?). 

Rift in the Soul acts as a pivot point, or maybe a stepping stone between versions of these two (let’s go with a stepping stone, so I don’t have to keep hearing Ross Geller yell “PIVOT!” in the back of my mind). There are some hellos, some goodbyes, some…”huh, that’s new.” (some of which I alluded to above, a lot I haven’t). This novel acts as a cap and a launching pad at the same time for the series. 

It’s tough to consider this book without reference to that, honestly, because so much of the warp and woof of the novel is that. But let’s try: you’ve got some solid vampire action, you’ve got strange vampire action, too. Some great action scenes. Good, strong character development. Solid emotional beats that are well-executed and earned. Things might not be the same soon, but for now, this is a good time with your group of friends. 

Obviously, I don’t recommend this as a jumping-on point for the series, but it would be okay if you decided to. (but don’t, go back to the beginning). I think you’ll like the time in this world. But for people who’ve been with Nell and her team/work family/blood family since the beginning? You’re going to walk away very pleased. 

Oh, one last note before I go: Faith Hunter/Publishers: Mud deserves at least a solo-novella. You’ve got something great here, use it. (unless you wanted to team her up with Jane Yellowrock’s Angie) 

The Body's Keepers: A Social History of Kidney Failure and It's Treatments by Paul L. Kimmel, M.D.

hopeful informative medium-paced

4.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s The Body’s Keepers About? 

I feel underqualified to try to describe this book, and you’ll see why here in a sentence or two. So, I’m just going to paste what the Publisher’s Site says: (yes, I typically would cite the audiobook publisher here, but the print edition’s publisher gives more details) 

A remarkable account of the kidney and the scientific, medical, and health evolution tied to our understanding of it.

The kidney is an extraordinary organ – in many ways the regulator, the metronome, the keeper of the human body’s delicate equilibrium. On a given day, minute by minute, it purifies the body of toxins it encounters from diet, climate, activity, and injury. It allows us to be and to move in the world. And yet most of us know so very little about these extraordinary vessels nestled in our bodies – and indeed millions of us only really learn about them when they stop working. Nearly a million Americans every year have end stage kidney disease, about 37 million have some form of chronic kidney disease. And it is an incredibly common universe of challenge and ailment that, until relatively recently, would simply kill those afflicted with it.

Renowned nephrologist Dr. Paul Kimmel takes us on an eye-opening journey through the history of kidney disease, dialysis, and transplantation. Drawing on both his extensive research and decades of experience in the field, he explains the development of treatments, technologies, and medical practices that have advanced the care of patients with kidney disease. Kimmel illuminates the impact of medical advances on the lives of those suffering from this debilitating disease and offers a clear understanding of the challenges that remain.

The Body’s Keepers also reveals the inequities and injustices at the heart of America’s healthcare system. Filled with case studies, personal histories, and first-hand accounts, the book reveals the shocking truth about the exploitation of vulnerable populations in the pursuit of profit. Kimmel examines how disparities in access to care have led to life-threatening consequences for many Americans. He also looks at the ways in which the medical industry has profited from the suffering of others, and how the path to health equity is still far from being realized. With unflinching honesty and a passionate commitment to social justice, his book is an essential read for anyone looking to understand the complexities of modern healthcare.

 
What Did I Think About the Narration?
With all due respect to Dr. Kimmel, this could very easily have been a dry-as-dust book. Yes, there’s occasionally some wit and some passion in the text–Kimmel’s personality does come through. Lane Hakel makes sure that shines through. He maintains the appropriate tone and seriousness to the subject, but with simple and subtle changes in inflection and so on to help maintain the listener’s engagement.

If nothing else, Hakel helped me pronounce a few terms and medication names that I’ve always stumbled on (or heard multiple ways).

I’m not saying that Hakel made this a joy to listen to, or that it was entertaining in the same way that, say, Luke Daniels makes a book–nor should it have been. But he keeps the listening experience accessible and interesting–even when the text seems just to be a list of names and acronyms. (which doesn’t happen often, but, occasionally it seems like it).

My Interest in the Book
So, I saw this on Netgalley the day after my son’s first dialysis treatment. And I clicked the request button as quickly as I could. I’ve talked in this space a little about his kidney transplant a few years ago. But what I know about kidney disease and the treatment of it doesn’t amount to much–and it’s very focused. So the opportunity to learn more–particularly in a history, was more than appealing.

Sure, I was discouraged a bit right off when one of the first things that Kimmel says is that he won’t be discussing the kidney disease my son had. But, he spent a lot of time talking about End Stage Renal Disease and transplants. So that more than made up for the skipped subject. And even the topics that didn’t directly have anything to do with my son were interesting to listen to. Because really, at the end of the day, the more medicine learns about various treatments for one area of kidney disease/treatment, the better off all patients are.

So, what did I think about The Body’s Keepers?
Can a non-medical professional read/listen to this and profit from this book? Absolutely. Are we the target audience? I don’t think so–well, those interested in the overlap of politics/economics/prejudices and medical treatments are definitely part of the target audience. So it’s not just the kind of book for M.D. after their name. But it’s not written for the person browsing a bookstore/library shelf for their weekend read, either.
 
This is an 18-hour listen, and it’s not the easiest listen, either–both because of the subject matter and the thoroughness with which Kimmel discusses things. Folks who are just idly curious are probably not going to make it through this book. But those who have a connection to the topic–because of their profession or professional interests, because (like me) they are or know someone going through these things, or because they’re invested in the social aspects and things like equitable access to care, or some other connection–will make it through this book and be glad for it.
 
For those who are interested in this subject, this is a fascinating book and a good audiobook experience. I do think I may end up getting the print edition just to make looking up a point or two easier. But for non-reference use? The audiobook is a good way to go.
 
I learned a lot, I have to say. The historical development of nephrology is fascinating. For such a young science the advances made are truly astounding (for example, when you hear how they made the first “artificial kidney”–the precursor to a dialysis machine, your mind will be boggled). The origins of the treatment of kidney diseases and injuries really start because of the World Wars and now kidney transplants happen all the time (not often enough for those on a transplant list for years), dialysis is routine, and the medical research is very promising to improve and innovate both.
 
Yes, the impacts of race, sex, income, and so on when it comes to access to and varieties of treatment are dismaying and befuddling (and on those providing the treatment). But the book suggests there’s every reason to be hopeful for the future, and that progress has been made. Easy for this white guy to say, but that was my takeaway from Kimmel. And, as in this post, I’m talking about this as a listening experience rather than commenting on the society that is depicted–the shortcomings of the system (especially in the U.S.) contrasted to the successes make for a more engaging narrative.
 
I should add that in the early chapters while doctors and researchers were still figuring out how to treat various kidney ailments, the symptoms and treatments (and failure rates), were strong reminders of how correct I was in choosing academic and career paths that took me far away from medicine. Some of that was rough for me (and no, I will not watch any documentary Dr. Kimmel decides to make in the future). People of stronger constitutions will not be bothered.
 
I’m really glad I listened to this, and encourage those interested to give it a try. It’s not a book for everyone, but for the right people will appreciate this.
 

Strong Like You by T.L. Simpson

challenging dark emotional tense fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
---  

What’s Strong Like You About? 

Walker Lauderdale is a high school sophomore and a starter for his small Arkansas high school’s football team. He and his cousin/best friend/might as well be brother Sawyer are fierce players for the defense (and we see that almost instantly). This should be the best time in his young life—but there’s something wrong. 

His dad has been missing for a month. He’s not there to watch his first game. He’s not there to burst with pride, to offer advice, or to cheer from the stands. He’s just…gone. Walker’s dad and Sawyer’s dad (also best friends and teammates on the same high school team before marrying sisters) took off one night and haven’t returned. The two boys are certain they’ll be back any time—they’re frequently checking the bleachers to see their fathers up there. 

The book is an extended monologue—or a series of them. Technically, an apostrophe, but let’s stick with monologue. Walker is addressing his father—catching him up on the turmoil and victories he’s missing, the hurt Walker feels because of his absence, and how he’s trying to make things work until his dad comes back. The grief, loss, and anger jump off the page. 

Walker’s dad isn’t a great one, either, it should be stressed. Rarely employed, his income is largely illegal and irregular. Both missing fathers are abusive to their wives and sons. But in the way that we all can recognize, the boys are just that much more devoted to them because of it—making their dads proud is a chief aim of theirs. 

Walker becomes determined to go look for his dad—which involves starting with the man his dad and uncle were last seen with—a truly frightening and violent man. Sawyer tries to dissuade him, but that just makes Walker even more certain that he needs to act. 

But does he truly want to find the answers he’s seeking? 

Learning About Guns 

Walker—like so many people in the U.S.—appreciates guns. He’s quick to grab a pellet gun to (try to) chase away his uncle. But his cousin Sawyer? Sawyer is a nut for guns, he has magazines about them all over his room. At some point, Sawyer comes across a pistol (and somehow gets money for many bullets for it—or at least acquires them). There’s a big difference between a pellet gun and a Colt 1911, and it doesn’t take long for Walker to start learning about them. 

Not what you learn in video games/TV, not what Sawyer’s survival mags teach, or anything like that. But about the reality of them—how they can invite violence, how holding one affects you, what destruction they can bring even without trying. There’s no pro-/anti- gun message at work here. No lessons or sermons were delivered. But the reality of what a gun can do to a person, a situation, or an attitude is presented in stark reality. I’d say it’s easily one of the best things about this book, but if I started listing the best things about this book, we’d be here for a long time. 

Anger 

Walker and Sawyer are angry young men—it’s simmering right below the surface, and comes out at inopportune times. Although, it does sometimes come out when it should*—and we see an example of that in the opening minutes of their first game of the year. 

* Arguably, anyway. Their coach and teammates would say it’s appropriate. 

There are plenty of reasons for them to be so angry—even before their fathers abandoned them. The more time you spend with them—Walker in particular—you see just how many reasons he has. It’s part of what his parents have passed down to him, part of the example they’ve set and the environment he’s been raised in. 

The guy his father and uncle runs with, Lukas Fisher, has another kind of anger inside him—and he doesn’t hesitate to express it—where Walker’s parents shape him by their anger, Lukas “trains” his pit bull with his.* While we can see a little constructive use of anger, we can see some people who are angry due to circumstance and situations—but Lukas? He seems to revel in it, maybe even feeds on anger. 

* This is off-point, but Simpson’s description of the dog’s barking was both wonderfully accurate and a bit of a tension breaker. 

But back to Walker, it’s his anger that lands him in weekly sessions with the school counselor before the book begins. This counselor is one of the few who seem to look beyond Walker’s attitude, his anger, his disinterest in education, and his abilities on the football field. It’s unclear how Walker will respond to him—or even if he can respond to this man appropriately. But it’s a rare example of how his anger just might put him in the right place. 

The Meaning of Manhood/Strength 

Walker’s primary concern at the beginning of the book is to be strong—strong, as the title says, like his dad. For him, strength equals control. Control over your life, your circumstances, your choices—it’s also tied into how to fix things. How to make things better. 

Yes, it absolutely is about physical strength first and foremost, but it’s about more than that, too. For a character presented as not that intelligent (Walker would say worse than that about himself), he’s really perceptive. He’s spent more time than many—probably even he—realizes thinking about the nature of strength. 

Ultimately, this is what being a man is for Walker (and Sawyer, too)—maybe even Hank and Rufus, too. Walker sees Hank as strong—physically, emotionally, and mentally. This is what he aspires to—for himself, for his mother, and possibly even for Hank. If Walker gets to be strong enough—on and off the football field—he can make Hank and his mom proud. He can make their lives better, fixing those things that need fixing (that his father never gets around to fixing, despite Walker’s deep-seated conviction that he could and will). 

Over the course of this book, this understanding of what manhood means and what strength means are seen in light of that anger mentioned above. One of the bigger questions of the novel surrounds Walker and Sawyer—as they navigate toward adulthood/maturity, what will win out? Strength or anger? What kind of men will they be? 

The Love Story 

Okay…after a few attempts, I realize that I cannot say anything about this without a spoiler. All I will say is that it’s perfectly conceived, perfectly executed, and just what this book needed it to be. 

So, what did I think about Strong Like You? 

I have several more things I wanted to talk about—but this is too long, and almost two days behind schedule (it’s at least 6 hours after I normally post something). What’s worse, every time I start writing “just one more thing,” I think of two more. So I’m bringing this in for a landing, and I may bounce around a little bit here. 

I do not even like football—why do I keep reading books featuring it? Okay, I live in the USA and it’s pretty hard to escape, that’s a large part of it, but still… There’s a large part of me that doesn’t care as long as it’s a book like this one. And sure, he’s talking about a different game entirely, but Walker would agree with Dani Rojas—”Football is life!” He thinks in football terms and metaphors, he can’t explain to someone why he loves football—he can’t even understand why that person doesn’t like football, it’s like telling him that they don’t like to breathe. Most of the time, Simpson doesn’t have Walker or Sawyer tell us this, they just live this. The way he does this alone tells me that Simpson is someone to watch (or, I suppose, he thinks the same way as Walker does and it’s coming out organically—but I don’t think so) 

I really should spend a lot of time talking about Walker’s guidance counselor and the arc of their relationship, there’s so much about Simpson’s work here that should be commended. There’s also this strange little tangent featuring a recent graduate of Walker’s high school and his little sisters that tells us more about Walker than anything except his attitude toward football—who he really is, not who he thinks he needs to be. 

You don’t have to read very far before you know a couple of things—1. despite his conviction—or at least the conviction he voices—things are not going to go the way he anticipates, and that rough times are ahead for Walker; and 2. you are not going to want to put this book down until you reach the last page. I glanced at the first couple of pages to make sure it downloaded correctly and had to walk away from my Kindle, because I had multiple other deadlines and I knew if I didn’t do that, I’d finish the book before I did anything else. I can’t describe it, but there’s something about Walker’s voice, the way he’s talking to that father that isn’t there that just grabs you. 

I’m not entirely satisfied with the way the novel ended. I liked the resolution to the various stories, let me be clear. But I feel like I could see Simpson’s not-so-Invisible Hand working to get some of the resolutions to work out the way they did. I like the way the storylines ended up, so I’m not going to complain too much. And since it was only in the closing pages that I thought about maybe criticizing something in the book, Simpson earned a little authorial heavy-handedness. 

This is a real winner—Strong Like You shares so much DNA with Eli Cranor’s Don’t Know Tough (but is not a copy in any way) and even hearkens back to Early Autumn by Robert B. Parker. And anytime a book can make me compare it favorably with those two knockouts, I’m going to put it down as pure joy. 

If you’re someone who gets hung up on the YA tag, push “Pause” on that for 224 pages. This is a book that deserves a fair shake and many, many readers—Simpson’s debut is as strong as Walker hopes to be. 

The Djinn's Apple by Djamila Morani

emotional mysterious tense fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s The Djinn’s Apple About? 

Nardeen is a remarkable twelve-year-old. Her father is a physician known for translating medical texts from a variety of languages into Arabic, and Nardeen soaks up his work. She has an astounding memory and ability to understand what she memorizes. 

But due to some political intrigue that she doesn’t wholly understand, Nardeen and her family have to flee their home one night. Sadly, she’s the only one who survives. 

Nardeen vows revenge on those responsible for her family’s murder—certain that a friend of her father’s is ultimately to blame. 

But before then, she finds herself being taken under the wing of a legendary physician and teacher, Muallim Ishaq. He recognizes her gifts and her heritage from her father—he arranges (mostly by the force of his will) to have her learn at The Bimaristan, a hospital of great renown. There, she’s able to hone her skills and knowledge—and sharpen her tools, resolve, and ability to mete out that vengeance. 

Father vs. Father 

There are a handful of various conflicts in this book (like with any good book), but at the core, this book seems to be a conflict within Nardeen herself. On the one hand, she has her memories of her father and what he taught her—what he showed her by example—about the way to live. She also has to wrestle with what she’s told about her father—by those who profess to have admired him and those who worked against him. 

On the other hand, she has her (for all intents and purposes) adoptive father, what he’s trying to teach her—what he shows her by example—about the way to live. She also has to wrestle with what she’s told about him—by those who profess to admire him and those who work against him. 

In many ways, these two fathers line up—but in significant ways, they follow and lead her down divergent paths. So much of how the plotlines of this book resolve depends on Nardeen’s acceptance/rejection of what these men stand for. 

The Setting 

So, this takes place during the “golden age of Baghdad”—Harun al-Rashid’s rule of the Abbasid Caliphate from 786 to 809. Now, everything that I know about this period of time comes from the appendices to this novel “Harun Al-Rashid: The Golden Age of Baghdad” and “The Bimaristan.” As they are appendices, I read them afterward. So I came into this not knowing anything—which is a bit intimidating. And I figure I’m not alone in this (particularly for the intended YA audience, who probably haven’t had much opportunity to study Eigth-Century history). 

But honestly? Anyone who reads Fantasy/SFF knows how to approach something like this—sure, this is a representation of actual history, but the same tools and imagination you need to understand Westeros, Panem, or the world of the Shadowhunters equip you to get into this world. 

And, like with those worlds, after getting this taste, you’ll likely want to read more about it. 

While reading, and since then, I do have to wonder a little bit about how much Morani was stretching things about the opportunities presented to women in this time and place. Not just for Nardeen, either—but all the women she encounters at the Bimaristan (and I’d be saying this if the city was Paris or Rome, not just because it’s Baghdad). But I’m willing to both suspend disbelief for the sake of a good story and to trust that someone who’s as familiar with Arabic literature as Morani is more than my hunches. 

So, what did I think about The Djinn’s Apple? 

This book hits the ground running—Morani doesn’t give you the opportunity to settle in and get comfortable in this world or anything like that. She thrusts the reader—and poor Nardeen—straight into life-or-death action. Nardeen has a slightly better understanding of what’s going on than the reader does—but not much. This was a great way to start this read—you don’t get the chance to indulge curiosity or get lulled into thinking it’s a different kind of book than it is—you have to rush to catch up and then keep up with Nardeen and only get the luxury of starting to understand the world until she’s (relatively) safe. 

There were a couple of times that I wondered about the timelines and how well they worked. I assume I just missed something (and didn’t want to take the time to go back and check). It wasn’t anything that bugged me enough to look into it, but I would’ve appreciated things being a bit clearer. 

The characters of Nardeen and Muallim were so well drawn, so vivid, and so compelling that I really wish we had more time with them. Particularly Muallim—this cantankerous genius is the kind of character I really respond to. Now, given the pacing of this book, that’s impossible. And Morani picked the better option for her story. But the eccentric teacher and the stubborn and gifted student is a combination that could’ve made for a lot of fun. 

Somehow in the midst of this propulsive pacing, Morani is able to litter the book with some great observations, some drops of wisdom (primarily from the teacher and student), and memorable prose (some of that credit has to be given to Hussain as well). 

This is a fast, immersive read that’ll leave you guessing from the beginning right up to the end. You’d be doing yourself a favor if you pick it up. 

Another Girl by Peter Grainger

adventurous emotional mysterious tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s Another Girl About? 

Serena Butler is loaned out to do some plainclothes intelligence gathering in a nearby city. She misses a check-in with her handler, right after saying something tantalizing about making some new friends. This galvanizes her team back at King’s Lake and her DCI pushes her weight and rank around to get involved in the investigation into her disappearance–and the drugs investigation Butler was helping with.
 

At the same time, there’s an apparent hit and run for the Murder Squad to look in back at home–and while they do their due diligence with that, their concern for one of their own clearly has captured their attention (also, an absent pathologist means a delayed autopsy, so they can only do so much). 

A Change of Focus 

Initially, DCI Cara Freeman and DC Serena Butler carried most of this book–although DI Tom Green gets a lot more focus than he’s ever received before. And that was just great, I always liked him, but I wanted to see him get to shine a bit. Freeman and Butler are a great pairing and really establish this as a different kind of entry in this series. 

Yes, when Waters shows up roughly mid-way through the book, he ends up getting a lot of the focus, as we’re used to. Still, the narrative really does take advantage of Waters’ absence and explores the team and uses the multiple POVs to a greater advantage than Grainger has in the past. I don’t want Waters to get pushed to the background on a regular basis–but man, I really appreciated this. 

But this is Serena’s book, really. We start with her assignment hitting a bump in the road and we finish by it going deeper than she was ready for. But throughout, we get to learn a lot more about this character that’s been around for twelve books and really takes on new life and a greater depth. She’s been a favorite of mine from early on in her first appearance–and I like her more now that I understand her better. Honestly, if she got her own spin-off series in the future, I’d be game, or just for more books like this. (a book that uses Green more would also be welcome, but given the way his character typically operates, I’m not sure that’s possible). 

DC’s Shadow 

DC Smith (it still feels strange to call him David) has always loomed large over these King’s Lake books, but it seemed to me that it was a little larger this time than it had been since Songbird (but it’s not like I keep statistics or anything). He’s either mentioned in conversation (by people on all sides of the law) or thought of by Chris and Serena–who will remember some advice/guidance he gave them–which allows Granger to slip in a line or two using his DC voice–and I’m always going to be in favor of that. 

Which, I guess, brings us to: 

A Word About the Narration 

This is an audiobook, so I need to talk about the narration. But as I keep saying, I don’t know what to say about Gildart Jackson’s work on this series that I haven’t said umpteen times. 

When his voice starts coming out of my phone, my mind instantly settles in for a good time. There’s a calmness that he evokes in me almost instantly (note: it’s not his voice, I rarely felt calm during the Alex Verus books). He catches the humor, the tension, the camaraderie, the…I don’t know, the spirit of these books. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, I’m not picking these up in print (although, I know at least one non-audiobook person who says they’re great in print), I have to have Jackson’s voice. 

So, what did I think about Another Girl? 

Grainger doesn’t frequently put his King’s Lake characters in peril (I thought about listing exceptions to that rule, but I won’t–but the point stands), this series is about typical investigations. But when he does, he does it effectively. And boy howdy, he does so here. I haven’t been this concerned for the fate of a Grainger character since A Private Investigation‘s close. 

But more than just the danger aspect, watching Serena deal with the pressures of working undercover (especially as she initially wasn’t supposed to go as deep as she ended up) was so well done. Equally well done was watching her team fret about her when they couldn’t contact her and weren’t sure what was going on. 

The hit-and-run story never got the time I initially expected, but the way that Grainger worked it into the overall storyline was his typical well-done work. He was able to weave it into the drugs story and show how it is about much more than drugs. 

This tied this particular novel into something we first saw in On Eden Street and will likely show up for at least one more novel. Which isn’t to say that this novel isn’t largely a stand-alone like the rest, but there’s something that will tie it to further books. 

I think I’ve rambled enough–possibly too much. I had a great time with this one, and as always I strongly encourage you to give this one a try. It would serve as a fine jumping-on point to the series (like every book so far), but if you have the time and means, I’d suggest starting at the beginning. Or somewhere. Just start with Peter Grainger, Gildart Jackson, and the detectives in and around King’s Lake Central. 

Charm City Rocks by Matthew Norman

funny hopeful lighthearted medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

What’s Charm City Rocks About? 

Billy Perkins is happy. Everyone knows this–he’s got his dream job (music teacher), he’s good at it–and makes enough money to keep going. He’s got a great kid, and a solid relationship with the kid’s mother. He’s well-liked in his neighborhood and at Camden Yards. Who wouldn’t be happy? He’s also got this newfound appreciation for cardigans, “the perfect garment, like, the convertible of sweaters”–and he looks good in them. If you can find pleasure in the little things like that…why not be happy? 

Margot Hammer is a drummer best known as part of the all-female rock group Burnt Flowers*. Then as the wife of Lawson Daniels, the giant movie star, her fame grew even more. Then she dumped the cheater, quit the band in a dramatic fashion, and vanished from the public eye, becoming a “whatever happened to…” name. She was pretty satisfied with that until Burnt Flowers is featured in a documentary series, which renewed that itch to play again and generally reminded her of what she lost with her bandmates. 

* Not for nothing, that’s just a great 90s band name. I would thoroughly enjoy hearing Norman talk about coming up with it and what some of the other contenders for that name were. 

But after listening to his dad talk about Margot after seeing her on that history of rock documentary on Netflix, Billy’s son, Caleb wonders–what if his dad isn’t as happy as he could be? Is he maybe a little lonely? So Caleb does something harebrained, problematic in several ways, and destined to fail. 

He brings the two together in a move straight out of a rom-com’s first draft, but instead of the meet-cute he hopes for–we get kind of a meet-ugly. Billy, being the almost-impossibly decent guy that he is, tries to salvage the time and make it up to her. Also…how often does he get the chance to spend time with his all-time favorite drummer? 

Something strange ensues for Margot–she has fun. With Billy and in general. She also gets a little social media attention (which spills over into mass media). This is enough to get her old record company to try to capitalize on that. She’s not interested in doing that, but does decide to spend a little more time with Billy. 

The pair have great chemistry–and maybe more. But will figures from their pasts derail them? Should they? 

Baltimore 

As they stand on Thames Street, he imagines the neighborhood from Margot’s perspective. Daquan is one block over, pounding away. The sun is moving toward the horizon. The twinkly lights strung around the outdoor eating area at the Greek restaurant next door come on, and people are out with their tattoos and interesting outfits and cool beards. Like always, there’s music everywhere.

“It’s not like how everyone says,” says Margot.

“What isn’t?”

“Baltimore,” she says. “I thought it’d be, I don’t know, more murdery.” …

“Be patient,” he says. “The night is young,”

 
As much as this book focuses on the love story between Billy and Margot, there’s a strong thread about love for Baltimore. I knew, on some level, that there has to be more to the city, but at the end of the day, I really think of Baltimore in much the same way as Margot in the quote above.
 
But that’s not Matthew Norman’s Baltimore–and it’s not the Baltimore of these characters. Frankly, if this Baltimore resembles the actual thing, I’d love to spend time there (you know, assuming I can shake the David Simon associations).
 
There are two neighborhoods (that don’t seem too far apart) that we spend most of our time in–and both have a strong sense of community about them. Particularly the area that Billy’s apartment is in, which also contains the place where Caleb’s plan was executed and the bar that the adults found themselves in to recover. The neighborhood figures from this area both grounded and sold the experience for me (and, I think, Margot). Too often people talk about the location of a novel/movie being another character–but when someone depicts their setting so strongly and so warmly, it’s hard not to resort to that kind of language.
 
Caleb
I’ve frequently talked about great Mother/Daughter and Father/Daughter relationships in various books, but I don’t think I’ve talked much about great relationships with sons. I also can’t think of many off the top of my head.

The relationship between Caleb and Billy, however? It’s a standout. Caleb’s relationships with his mother and stepfather are good to see, too. But man…the link between Father and Son here is something special. The lengths that Caleb went to in order to give his father a shot at happiness–and the life-altering choices he makes because of his parents (particularly, it seems, his father)–tells you a lot about this kid and the bond he has with his parents. I really can’t think of a better son in Fiction (not that I’ve spent a lot of time trying, but authors seem to do better at daughters).

He gets off a little easy when it comes to the shenanigans he got up to in introducing his dad to Margot, really the more I think about it, the worse it was (but consuming a large amount of edibles thinking they’re just candy is a pretty good justification for it). But, I think Norman is right to cut him some slack and not get into just how bad it was. Actually, most books (and almost every movie I can think of) would’ve allowed Caleb’s scheme to work for a bit, and would extend the nonsense for far too long before having it collapse for the sake of drama. I am so, so, so glad that Norman didn’t do that. He simply let the idea fall apart and then moved on, making lemonade out of Caleb’s citrus offering.

So, what did I think about Charm City Rocks?
I knew I should’ve read the book as soon as it landed on my doorstep in June. I knew I was missing out on something–and I was. But on the plus side, it’s a pretty good way to start off the year, too. This is just a fun book.

So I loved the whole super-star story and the debacle Margot made of her career and life–it’s a very VH-1 Behind the Music tale. All the behind-the-scenes show business stuff, both in the past and present, were great. But what sold me was the connection both Billy and Margot (and several other characters) had to music–listening to it, performing it, creating it–even just thinking about it. Strip away fleeting fame and money, that’s what counts. That’s why people care about musicians, it’s because of the music that they bring us and what it does for our souls and psyches. As Norman celebrated that, you couldn’t help but respond. (and as flakes wanted to twist that for their own benefit, you respond as well)
 
One shouldn’t overlook Caleb’s mother–even though I pretty much have–her ARC isn’t pivotal to the book as a whole, but it’s so satisfying. She’d be an easy character to bring on for a few scenes as a plot complication, or just to add a little flavor to the world–but Norman fleshes out her character, gives her an arc, and gets the reader invested in her and her happiness.
 
There’s another ex- in the picture, and while you know how they’re going to complicate the characters’ lives almost instantly upon their introduction, I can’t bring myself to get into the details. I wanted to say something about a jealous toddler wanting their discarded toy just because someone else has it–but Norman wisely takes that option away. That’s not to say that the character doesn’t muck things up pretty seriously for almost everyone in the book…I’m just saying they’re not a monster.
 
I think the best way to sum up my reaction to the book is that I noticed that every time I put the book down for some reason, I was grinning. Not because I set the book down, but it just made me happy. Not Billy-happy, but happy.
 
A little cheesy? Sure. Generally predictable? Sure. Engaging, charming, witty, optimistic, and upbeat? Sure. If you’re looking for more in a rom-com, you’re not looking for a rom-com. This won me over in the beginning and kept my affection throughout. This was a sure-fire winner for me.