Showing posts with label book review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book review. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Review of The Promise by Ann Weisgarber

By Julie

Here's a repost from 2013 that's relevant again with a few tweaks and updates. Congratulations to Ann Weisgarber, a fellow Texas author whose second novel is out in the U.S. this month with a gorgeous new cover! (Skyhorse Publishing / April 2014) 

I wrote this review last year when The Promise published in the U.K. I've since met Ann in person. She is lovely, kind, and gracious -- and she can write up a storm. Literally, in this case.
 

If you're in the DFW area, join Ann at her talk and signing at Barnes & Noble, Lincoln Park, Dallas, April 17, 2014 at 7:00 p.m. Some of the What Women Write crew is sure to be in attendance!

I read Ann Weisgarber's The Personal History of Rachel Dupree in 2012, and was blown away by this intense, moving story. It was shortlisted for the Orange Award for New Writers and long-listed for the Orange Prize in the U.K., and was chosen for the ABA's Indie Next List and Barnes & Noble's Discover program when it released here in the States. I devoured it and couldn't wait to read something new from her.

Well, one of the perks of having a second English language publisher for Calling Me Home (Pan Macmillan in the U.K.) is getting occasional advance review copies from the U.K. My editor, Sophie Orme, discovered I had an interest in novels by Weisgarber, one of her authors and a fellow Texas writer, and she put a proof copy of The Promise in the mail that winter. (It published in the U.K. in April 2013.)

I read it over the holidays in whatever moments I could steal away from all the hullaballoo, and once again was startled and drawn in completely by this novel—most especially by the voices, exactly as I was with Rachel Dupree, a young African-American pioneer, in the previous novel.

The Promise is the story of Catherine Wainwright, a pianist who flees her Ohio home in disgrace, impulsively accepting the proposal of the man who worshipped her from afar when they were young. Oscar Williams is still rough around the edges, but he's stronger and surer of what he wants than Catherine expected when she agreed to marry him. He lives far away in Galveston, Texas, where he has built a dairy farm on "the ridge" far "down the island."

The Promise is also—and maybe more importantly—the story of Nan Ogden. Nan has been Oscar's housekeeper since his first wife died tragically. Upon Bernadette's death, Nan promised to always watch out for Andre, Bernadette and Oscar's only child. But there's more to her story: Nan harbors secret feelings for Oscar.

The story alternates between the distinct voices of Catherine—refined and stunned by her new life—and Nan—practical, realistic, and completely unable to deny the pull of her promise and her feelings.

It feels like a quiet story at first (intentional, I believe!). With careful and deliberate language and plotting, Weisgarber develops her characters through loaded interactions between Catherine and Oscar, Catherine and Nan, and Nan and Oscar, as well as Catherine's tentative struggle to become a mother to Andre.

But then the story marches toward the historic 1900 Galveston storm, the worst natural disaster in twentieth century American history. By the time I arrived at the second half of the book, through the warning signs and eventual arrival of the hurricane, my heart literally pounded as I read of Oscar's attempts to secure his animals and home and the people for whom he feels responsible. I stopped stealing bits of time and had to demand the few hours I needed to finish reading The Promise and learn what its heart-wrenching conclusion would be.

It's not an easy story to read (again, like The Personal History of Rachel Dupree). If you are easily frightened or like stories that tie up things with a pretty bow, you might not like it. But if you're like me—a reader entranced by realism, even when packaged in tragedy—you'll likely find it nearly impossible to tear yourself away from this story until you've finished, and then it will haunt you for days.

I highly recommend The Promise.

You can find Weisgarber online at annweisgarber.com and on Twitter at @AnnWeisgarber

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received an advanced copy of the book mentioned above gratis. Regardless, I only recommend books I've read and believe will appeal to our readers. I am making this statement in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

A review of Ann Weisgarber's The Promise

By Julie

One of the perks of having a second English language publisher for Calling Me Home (Pan Macmillan in the U.K.) is getting occasional advance review copies—or "proof" copies, as they call them in the U.K.—from my editor there. Last year, I had the privilege of reading an early copy of Carol Rifka Brunt's haunting novel, Tell the Wolves I'm Home. My mom, who reads everything I read and a whole lot more, said it was one of her favorite books of the year.

Recently, my original editor at Pan Macmillan moved to a new publishing house and Calling Me Home was taken over with great enthusiasm by editor Sophie Orme. In our process of getting to know one another, she discovered I had an interest in novels by Ann Weisgarber, a fellow Texas writer. I read The Personal History of Rachel Dupree in 2012, and was blown away by this intense, moving story. It was shortlisted for the Orange Award for New Writers and longlisted for the Orange Prize in the U.K., and was chosen for the ABA's Indie Next List and Barnes & Noble's Discover program when it released here in the States. I devoured it and couldn't wait to read something new from Ann Weisgarber. Sophie endeared me to herself immediately when she put a proof copy of Weisgarber's new novel, The Promise, in the mail.

I read it over the holidays in whatever moments I could steal away from all the hullaballoo, and once again was startled and drawn in completely by this novel—most especially by the voices, exactly as I was with Rachel Dupree, a young African-American pioneer, in the previous novel.

The Promise is the story of Catherine Wainwright, a pianist who flees her Ohio home in disgrace, impulsively accepting the proposal of the man who worshipped her from afar when they were young. Oscar Williams is still rough around the edges, but he's stronger and surer of what he wants than Catherine expected when she agreed to marry him. He lives far away in Galveston, Texas, where he has built a dairy farm on "the ridge" far "down the island."

The Promise is also—and maybe more importantly—the story of Nan Ogden. Nan has been Oscar's housekeeper since his first wife died tragically. Upon Bernadette's death, Nan promised to always watch out for Andre, Bernadette and Oscar's only child. But there's more to her story: Nan harbors secret feelings for Oscar.

The story alternates between the distinct voices of Catherine—refined and stunned by her new life—and Nan—practical, realistic, and completely unable to deny the pull of her promise and her feelings.

It feels like a quiet story at first (intentional, I believe!). With careful and deliberate language and plotting, Weisgarber develops her characters through loaded interactions between Catherine and Oscar, Catherine and Nan, and Nan and Oscar, as well as Catherine's tentative struggle to become a mother to Andre.

But then the story marches toward the historic 1900 Galveston storm, the worst natural disaster in twentieth century American history. By the time I arrived at the second half of the book, through the warning signs and eventual arrival of the hurricane, my heart literally pounded as I read of Oscar's attempts to secure his animals and home and the people for whom he feels responsible. I stopped stealing bits of time and had to demand the few hours I needed to finish reading The Promise and learn what its heart-wrenching conclusion would be.

It's not an easy story to read (again, like The Personal History of Rachel Dupree). If you are easily frightened or like stories that tie up things with a pretty bow, you probably won't like it. But if you're like me—a reader entranced by realism, even when packaged in tragedy—you'll likely find it impossible to tear yourself away from this story for long until you've finished.

I don't know when The Promise will be published in the United States. U.K. readers are lucky to have it nearly at hand with a March 14, 2013, publication date there. In the meantime, it looks like U.S. residents can pre-order from sites like Amazon UK for about the price of a purchasing a hardcover here, including the international shipping.

You can find Weisgarber online at annweisgarber.com and on Twitter at @AnnWeisgarber


Disclosure of Material Connection: I received an advanced copy of the book mentioned above gratis. Regardless, I only recommend books I've read and believe will appeal to our readers. I am making this statement in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Monday, October 8, 2012

What Alice Forgot--a review

By Pamela

It's the age-old interview question: Where do you see yourself in five years? Or, we might even ask of ourselves: Where do I want to be in ten? What we never consider is: What would today be like if I had no memory of the last ten years of my life? In What Alice Forgot we meet Alice as she's just suffered a nasty fall off a stationary bike during a spinning class. Here's what the author, Liane Moriarty, who is Australian, writes about the story's premise:

I had always wanted to write a story about time travel but I found the logistics made my head explode. Then I read a story about a woman in the UK who lost her memory and behaved like a teenager--she didn’t recognise her husband or children. I realized that memory loss is a form of time travel. So I came up with the idea of a woman, Alice, who loses 10 years of her memory. She thinks she is 29, pregnant with her first child and blissfully in love with her husband. She is horrified to discover she is 39, with three children and in the middle of a terrible divorce. It’s like the younger Alice has travelled forward in time. 


I read the book because it was selected for my book club this month and admit I found myself a little bogged down with the pacing in the beginning. The first half of the book covers the day Alice fell and the day following. We meet an intriguing cast of characters including Alice's sister, her mother and some of her friends, but not until much later in the book does she encounter her husband and her children. And what a frightening thought! To think you have three children of whom you have no memory!

That concern aside, once I got into the heart of the story and walked with Alice--as she tried to piece together how she went from a happy-go-lucky, much-in-love, soon-to-be mother to an about-to-be-divorced, over-involved mother of three whom people both admired and feared--I was enraptured by this woman's journey. 

Moriarty writes Alice's story from only Alice's POV (in third-person), but we hear her sister's perspective through journal entries and her grandmother's perspective through letters. But it's the author's handling of the marriage, through the scenes with Alice and her husband, Nick, that kept me turning the page. Moriarty's ear for dialog and her sense of humor is enviable, to say the least. 

My friend who selected the book pitched it as a 'light, fun read' but I beg to differ. Yes, the story was fun because it was quite hilarious in spots, but it's also the kind of story that feels much weightier. It's a story that gives you pause and causes you take stock in your own life and makes you wonder that if you had the chance to see yourself ten years from now, would you like the person you'd become? And would you try hard to change that outcome? 

I encourage you to read What Alice Forgot to find out what Alice did eventually do with her life. No spoilers here! 




Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Review: Kristina McMorris's Bridge of Scarlet Leaves

By Julie

When Kristina McMorris asked if I’d like to receive an advanced review copy of her new novel Bridge of Scarlet Leaves last fall, I jumped at the chance. You may remember Kim’s interview with her here at What Women Write last year shortly after the release of her debut novel, Letters from Home.

I had the pleasure of meeting Kristina in person last year, and you couldn’t find a more dynamic, generous person. She is a former wedding and event planner, and our conversation about all the creative ways she has marketed her books blew me away. If I managed to use only a fraction of her ideas, I think I’d fall over in exhaustion, but I’m pretty sure Kristina’s middle name is “Dynamo.”

So, yes, she is a friend, and I thought I should be up front about that here as I step into this review.

In a landscape where World War II stories are currently very trendy, Bridge of Scarlet Leaves stands out as one that mostly takes place on home soil in the United States. Like Jamie Ford’s bestselling novel Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, McMorris’s story deals with the subject of Japanese internment camps, but it is a complementary companion to Ford’s, different in that it follows the experiences of a young white woman who chooses to marry and then follow her Japanese American husband into an internment camp, much to the displeasure of both of their families.

From the publisher (Kensington/February 2012):

Los Angeles, 1941. Violinist Maddie Kern's life seemed destined to unfold with the predictable elegance of a Bach concerto. Then she fell in love with Lane Moritomo. Her brother's best friend, Lane is the handsome, ambitious son of Japanese immigrants. Maddie was prepared for disapproval from their families, but when Pearl Harbor is bombed the day after she and Lane elope, the full force of their decision becomes apparent. In the eyes of a fearful nation, Lane is no longer just an outsider, but an enemy. 
When her husband is interned at a war relocation camp, Maddie follows, sacrificing her Juilliard ambitions. Behind barbed wire, tension simmers and the line between patriot and traitor blurs. As Maddie strives for the hard-won acceptance of her new family, Lane risks everything to prove his allegiance to America, at tremendous cost.

The Kensington teaser doesn’t mention the rich subplots in Bridge of Scarlet Leaves. One of my favorites was the developing relationship between TJ, Maddie’s brother, and Jo, her best friend. Another was the emotional visits Maddie pays to her father, who resides in a nursing home due to a tragic accident that changed the landscape of her nuclear family years earlier. And I found myself glued to sections where Maddie desperately searches for the right ways to connect with her disapproving mother-in-law, often making cultural faux pas in her clumsy attempts to make peace.

Additionally, McMorris does a fabulous job of going beyond Maddie and Lane’s forbidden love, marriage, and consequences to explore the horrific experiences of American POWs trapped in secluded Pacific island camps and the fine balance between the POWs and their captors, often shown through the eyes of Lane as he attempts to make use of his Japanese heritage to negotiate peaceful resolutions. The level of detail in these sections makes the care and time McMorris put into her research obvious. In fact, given the delicate blossoms on the cover and the focus on the love story in the synopsis, I expected this book to be more strictly weighted toward Women’s fiction, but I would venture to say men would enjoy Bridge of Scarlet Leaves, too, with many chapters told through both Lane’s and TJ’s eyes.

Ultimately, Bridge of Scarlet Leaves is a rich, multifaceted novel that immerses the reader in an American world both comfortably familiar and horrifically foreign at once, in tense overseas battles both psychological and physical, and in romantic histories that convey both heartbreak and hope.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

The Boyfriend of the Month Club, or the accidental life of a book reviewer, continued!

By Julie

Remember my post a few months ago about the mystery list? My accidental life as a book reviewer?

Well, my luck hasn't run out yet! I'm still getting the occasional random book in the mail without the sky opening up and raining more on me than I can handle.

Last week, I just about choked when I was on the phone with Pamela, dissecting some work I was helping her with. I couldn't think of a word. She'd just said it a moment earlier, and it was just gone. I blamed it on my brain, which doesn't always cooperate as quickly as I'd like. The next minute, my teenager walked in the door and handed me a package, which contained, I kid you not, an ARC of a book called BEAUTIFUL BRAIN, BEAUTIFUL YOU (Maria Pasinski, M.D. / Hyperion Voice / Dec. 28, 2010).

The back cover copy says it's for "any woman who suffers from bad brain days.'" Seriously. I haven't read it yet, but it's on the coffee table, waiting for the next time my brain conks out.

But ...

The day the What Women Write gals left for our annual retreat, another package showed up. I glanced inside, then tossed it aside as I was in a hurry to get out the door. A week or so ago, I picked up the enclosed ARC (advance review copy), looking for something different to read. Didn't I mention how I tend to read dark, serious kind of stuff, but now and again, I like to lighten things up? Yeah, things were getting a little too heavy again. I'd read too many of those in a row.

Turns out The Boyfriend of the Month Club by Maria Geraci was just the kind of pick-me-up I needed! It released yesterday (Dec. 7, 2010).

From the publisher (Penguin):

This sexy, funny new novel asks: Can a woman find a modern-day Mr. Darcy in Daytona Beach?

At thirty, Grace O'Bryan has dated every loser in Daytona Beach. After the ultimate date-from-hell, Grace decides to turn her dwindling book club into a Boyfriend of the Month Club, where women can discuss the eligible men in their community. Where are the real life twenty-first century versions of literary heroes such as Heathcliff and Mr. Darcy? Could it be successful and handsome Brandon Farrell, who is willing to overlook his disastrous first date with Grace and offers financial help for her parents' failing Florida gift shop? Or maybe sexy dentist Joe Rosenblum, who's great with a smile but not so great at commitment? Unfortunately, like books, men cannot always be judged by their covers...

I really enjoyed this book. Publisher's Weekly and I agree that the premise stretches the limits of credulity in places, but Geraci seems to frankly admit that by embracing it and writing characters who are zany and over-the-top in places, too, resulting in a crazy little story that kept me reading into the wee hours a few nights in a row.

Stylewise, think Dorothea Benton Frank meets My Big Fat Greek ... er, Cuban Wedding.

I laughed out loud in several places as the main character, Grace, got herself in and out some pretty amusing predicaments.

I admit I developed a teeny little crush one of her potential love interests. (Don't tell my husband . . . this is fiction, right?!)

And I was crushed along with Grace when bad went to worse and then horrible before things righted themselves again.

It's a happy day when I read something that wouldn't ordinarily end up on my to-be-read pile and end up loving it. Maybe you'll get your hands on The Boyfriend of the Month Club and love it, too!

Looks like Ms. Geraci is running a drawing on her website this week. When you purchase Boyfriend this week, you may enter for a chance to win more books and an Amazon gift card.

And by the way, though the publisher's description (above) and a few blurbs on the cover, etc., describe this book as "sexy," it wasn't really graphic at all to me. I'd be fine with my teens reading it.


Disclosure of Material Connection: I received copies of these books from the publishers in the hope that I would review them on What Women Write. I was under no obligation to review them, let alone give a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 225: "Guidelines Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

A Review of Emma Donoghue's ROOM

By Kim

Synopsis (from the book jacket):

To five year old Jack, Room is the world. It’s where he was born, it’s where he and Ma eat and sleep and play and learn. There are endless wonders that let loose Jack’s imagination – the snake under Bed that he constructs out of eggshells, the imaginary world projected through the TV, the coziness of Wardrobe below Ma’s clothes, where she tucks him in safely at night in case Old Nick comes.

Room is home to Jack, but to Ma it’s the prison where she has been held since she was nineteen – for seven years. Through her fierce love for her son, she has created a life for him in that eleven-by-eleven-foot space. But Jack’s curiosity is building alongside her own desperation – and she knows that Room cannot contain either much longer.

Photo by Nina Subin
About the author (from the book jacket):

Born in Dublin in 1969, Emma Donoghue is a writer of contemporary and historical fiction whose novels include the bestseller Slammerkin, The Sealed Letter, Landing, Life Mask, Hood and Stir-Fry. Her story collections are The Woman Who Gave Birth to Rabbits, Kissing the Witch, and Touchy Subjects. She also writes literary history and plays for stage and radio. She lives in London, Ontario, with her partner and their two young children.

Review:

I have a five-year-old, and while she’s very observant and mature for her age I can’t imagine many adults would make it all the way through a novel told from her point of view. Though Room came highly recommended, I had my doubts that such a feat could be pulled off.

I was wrong.

If Jack and his Ma lived a normal life, letting him tell the story would never work, but Room is anything but a normal place. Had Ma been the narrator readers would spend the first half of the book trapped in the deepest level of hell and the last half perhaps two rungs higher. As much as I would’ve sympathized with Ma, I’m not sure I’d have had the fortitude to finish.

Through Jack’s eyes, however, Room is a magical world. On the surface, his simple recounting of the events of his birthday may seem tedious but innocent observations, such as the number of times he hears the bed creak during one of Old Nick’s visits, alert the reader as to the darker reality of the situation. The fact that Jack himself is safe in Wardrobe at the time and has no understanding of what his mother endures is a testament of her complete devotion to her child. I challenge any mother to read this novel and not be moved.

I made the mistake of reading pages 122-142 while my family was home. Three wide-eyed faces stared at me when I blurted out “Oh, my God, no!” and pulled my Jack-sized child onto my lap in a crazy yet instinctual attempt to protect a fictional boy. Half the book remained, so I knew on some level everything would work out, yet I was so caught up in Jack’s terror, seeing my daughter in his place, that I imagined all the things that could go wrong in graphic detail.

If you’re looking for a truly original story, and are open to being overwhelmed by every primal emotion – terror, love, hope and hate – gather your courage and enter Room. You won’t regret it.

Friday, May 28, 2010

A Review of Catherine Hall's DAYS OF GRACE


By Kim

Synopsis
(from the book jacket):
Be careful what you say. Like everyone else, you will hear things that the enemy mustn’t know. Keep that knowledge to yourself – and don’t give away any clues. Keep smiling.

On the cusp of World War II, this warning resonates with Britain’s fearful population. But to Nora Lynch, these words carry another layer of meaning, one more intimate and shameful. And for more than fifty years, she will keep her lips tightly sealed.

When the war breaks out, twelve-year-old Nora is one of thousands of London children evacuated to the safety of the English countryside. Her surrogate family, Reverend Rivers, his wife, and their daughter, Grace, offer Nora affection and a wealth of comforts previously unknown to her. But what Nora is too young and too naĂ¯ve to understand is that the place she’s been sent to isn’t the Eden she originally believes it to be.

As the dogfights rage ever more fiercely overhead, Nora’s friendship with Grace intensifies, but Nora aches to become even closer. What happens next is a secret that she will harbor for decades, a secret that Nora begins to reveal only when, elderly and ill, she can no longer bear its haunting, corrosive power.

Exploring the perils of both revealing and concealing the truth, Days of Grace is a beautiful meditation on love, friendship and family, and a stunning debut that brings a tumultuous era to life.

About Catherine Hall (from the book jacket):
Catherine Hall was born in the north of England in 1973. Now based in London, she worked in documentary film production before becoming a freelance writer and an editor for a range of organizations specializing in human rights and development. Days of Grace is her first novel.

My Review:
You may be inclined to believe that a novel about secrets, jealousy and forbidden desire could not possibly be a beautiful meditation on love, friendship and family, but the cover does not lie. Catherine Hall’s prose is quiet, nostalgic, confessional without being the least bit melodramatic, yet Days of Grace unflinchingly tackles such controversial issues as homosexuality, infidelity, the potential destructive power of religion, and a few other biggies I won’t mention because they tie in too closely with the plot. There is, quite simply, a lot going on in the novel’s 288 pages.

I am in awe at the economy of Catherine Hall’s prose. She is a visual writer, perhaps due to her background in documentary film production. Her scenes are short, yet rich, and each word is both precise and necessary. This may be her debut novel, but she is already a master storyteller, with a keen understanding that sometimes it is the words she does not use that impact the reader most.

For example, in the very first scene Nora, as an elderly woman, reveals enough about the terrifying things going on within her body for the reader to understand what will kill her, and soon, though she keeps the words ‘cancer’ and ‘tumor’ to herself – the first of many secrets. Perhaps it was this quiet omission that made me ache to climb between the pages and comfort her. Perhaps it was that I knew even then that the disease physically eating her from within was nothing compared to her mental anguish. All this was accomplished in three pages.

Nora’s story takes place both during the war and in present day. In books with multiple time periods, I’m generally drawn more to one story than the other and find myself skimming to get back to the part I’m really interested in. That was not the case with Days of Grace. Nora, as narrator, was equally compelling as a teenager struggling with shameful desire as she was as an elderly woman quietly succumbing to her illness. Secondary characters are distinct and memorable throughout.

Don’t let the dark themes or controversial issues scare you away. Days of Grace is not about preaching agendas. It is an understated novel that will take hold of your heart and gently squeeze.

Days of Grace is available at bookstores everywhere on Monday, May 31st.


Author photo by Beth Crosland, as shown on the website for Portobello Books.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher in the hope that I would review it on What Women Write. I was under no obligation to review it, let alone give a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 225: "Guidelines Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."
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