Review: The Waiter Rant

The Waiter Rant
Written by Steve Dublancia
Ecco, imprint of Harper Collins
302 pages (with three Appendices)
Reviewed by Melissa

The restaurant industry is an interesting business. It's providing us food -- something we need to survive -- but it's also a luxury. Going out to eat is something that, for the most part, is really only available to those of us middle class and above. And yet, we rarely give a thought to the people who work in the industry: those who are making, and serving, the food that we are paying for and eating.

If Anthony Bourdain gave us an insight to the restaurant kitchen with Kitchen Confidential, then Steve Dublancia has done the same for the waitstaff in this book: a long-time professional waiter at an upscale restaurant in Manhattan, Dublancia wrote a blog for years under the pseudonym "The Waiter", eventually turning it into this book.

It's a brutally honest one, too. Dublancia not only doesn't mince words about bad owners, crappy working conditions, and -- most of all -- the customers. He's full of stories from the working conditions of his first place -- the owner was an overbearing jerk, the manager was corrupt, the working conditions horrid -- to the stories of customers from The Bistro, the place where Dublancia was headwaiter for six years. These are the most entertaining stories: from the sweet, to the famous (the ones about Russell Crowe are priceless), to the inane, to the outright obscene, Dublancia doesn't spare anything or anyone. Perhaps I'm just sheltered (or perhaps Dublancia's exaggerating), but it's amazing what goes on at, and what people really expect from, restaurants.

As an aside, Dublancia doesn't have much respect for people who watch Food Network and assume they know everything:

Gone are the days when patrons blindly ordered off the menu and took the chef's word as gospel. Things like free-range chicken, organic fish, and the stuff hemp-sandaled hippies ate was unheard of. Kobe steak? A sybaritic rarity. Nowadays customers armed with information gleaned from the Internet and television shows fancy themselves as apprentice chefs. Just because they read chef biographies and watch Bobby Flay, they think they know everything there is to know about restaurants and cooking. Trust me, they don't. In my seven years as a waiter I haven't learned a tenth of what there is to know. Do you watch Grey's Anatomy and think you can perform surgery? I hope not. Customers often think they're entitled to second-guess a chef's judgment.

It's not just the dish on the crazy bad lifestyle of a waiter or the weird and cheap and rude customers, though: it's also a reflective piece about a man who, while he is good at what he does, is coming to terms with the fact that being a waiter is not the world's best long-term career. These sections felt more forced, and were ultimately less interesting; perhaps our expectations when reading books like these are only for the dirt, so we can feel superior and anything else is a let-down. Then again, Dublanica did get his degree in psychology, so maybe a large helping of self-reflection was inevitable, even if it didn't quite fit in with the snarkiness of the rest of the book. The other quibble -- something else that didn't quite fit -- was his use of language: every once in a while he'd throw in a word -- like sybaritic in the above quote -- that just made me do a double take. They felt out of place, almost as if he was trying to make the book more upscale, and it just didn't work.

Even with the defects, though, the book is quite an enjoyable read. And, I promise, it'll make you rethink the way you treat your waitstaff.

The Darcys and the Bingleys

A Tale of Two Gentlemen's Marriages to Two Most Devoted Sisters

by Marsha Altman

Sourcebooks Landmark

417 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

As I was reading this book, I discovered I was torn between my intellectual, Jane Austen purist side and my emotional, chick-lit loving side. As I discovered I cannot reconcile these two halves of my reading experience, I thought it would be beneficial to transcribe the conversation between the intellectual (IB) and the emtional (EB) sides of my brain.

IB: So, the premise is that Darcy and Elizabeth and Bingley and Jane get married. That's it.

EB: Yep. And they discover the joy of "relations". And they giggle a lot. And basically are wonderful. *swoon.*

IB: There's no other plot?

EB: Well, there's a bit in the second half of the book involving Caroline Bingley and a rogue from Scotland whom she thinks she wants to marry, but she ends up marrying a brilliant London doctor in the end.

IB: That's it?

EB: Pretty much.

IB: So what's the point of the book? Really. It doesn't sound like enough for 413 pages.

EB: Well, there's a lot of time spent on the married couples' sex lives. See, Bingley asks Darcy for sex advice (since Darcy, um, has experience in these matters), and Darcy dashes to London two days before their weddings and finds a copy of the Kama Sutra for Bingley. (He happens to already have a copy stashed away in a secret drawer at Pemberley.) Bingley reads it, and Jane discovers it, and it evetually gets around to Elizabeth, so they're all in the know, which leads to many clever asides and illusions. It's all very fun, but tasteful.

IB: You've got to be kidding me.You know that the Kama Sutra wasn't even translated into English until the 1880s, right? It's wildly historically inaccurate. I won't even get started on the doctor and how his practices were overly progressive for the time.
EB: But this isn't a history book, it's fiction.

IB: True, but it's nice to have good history in historical fiction.

EB: Granted. But it doesn't change the fact that it was fun reading.

IB: Okay. I'll give you that. So, how about the characters? Do they live up to Austen's original?

EB: Well, Altman develops Bingley into a nice character: he's loving, kind and considerate towards his wife, and comes off as an intelligent, if slightly goofy man. Caroline is much nicer in this book than in the original. Jane's still a cipher-- she doesn't do a whole lot besides have babies -- but Lizzy is her loveable, witty self. And, Darcy... well, he comes off his pedestal quite a bit.

IB: What do you mean?

EB: Well... turns out that he tends to get quite drunk, fairly often.

IB: Mr. Darcy as a lush? As someone who gets smashed? Unheard of!

EB: But it makes him more human, more likeable.

IB: He wasn't unlikeable in the original! He was noble, proud, yes, but loveable. Besides the book wasn't really about his love for Lizzy. It was about class and character and pride...

EB: Yeah, but the falling in love is what's fun about the book. We all LOVE reading about how Darcy fell for Lizzy, and this just takes it one step further -- how Darcy pleases and is pleased with (and by) Lizzy. Good stuff.

IB: Yes, but it's not Pride and Prejudice.

EB: True. But that doesn't mean it's not good.

IB: It's just not faithful.

EB: No one will ever duplicate Jane Austen's brilliance, and it never works when authors try. The best adaptations are the ones that take the characters and reimagine them in human ways -- even if that means bending history a bit -- to make them more accessible to modern readers.

IB: But what about ...

EB: I will grant that the book seemed to be going off the A&E movie with Colin Firth more than the book. There's an extended sub-plot with Darcy and his fencing, which wasn't in the original at all, and, really, was only one teeny scene in the movie. But, Altman developed it into something interesting, which helped serve this new Darcy's character.

IB: BUT IT'S NOT JANE AUSTEN!

EB: Oh, shove it. Go read the original, if that's what you want. This one is a fun, light, interesting romp that uses characters from a beloved book. Altman did it well; for the most part, it's engaging, funny, and enjoyable. So, she tweaked history and Austen's characters a bit. There's nothing wrong with that. It's a novel. She's entitled to do what she wants with the characters.

IB: (spluttering)

EB: Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go read Pemberley Shades. I've heard it's good, too.

Pemberley by the Sea

by Abigail Reynolds

Sourcebooks

426 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

I have to admit that I was intrigued by the title -- specifially the subtitle: "A modern love story, Pride and Prejudice style"-- enough so that I was willing to pick up a copy of the book. A modern retelling of a Jane Austen classic, I thought. That could be interesting.

And, at first, it was. Cassie is a marine biologist in Woods Hole, on Cape Cod, working on summer research (it is explained in detail, but isn't quite worth going in to), when her lab assistant, Erin, meets Scott, high-powered biotech businessman. Erin and Scott fall instantly for each other, and suddenly Cassie finds herself being dragged along as a third wheel. Then she meets Scott's famous, reserved, proud friend, Calder Westing, and everything changes. They have nothing in common: he's rich, from a powerful family, and completely "above" her; she's a college professor with a poor, inner-city upbringing, someone who has had to struggle for everything she's gotten.

So far, so good. We have Darcy and Bingley, Lizzy and Jane, in situations similar to what Austen conceived (there's even a dance, where Calder can snub Cassie). Granted, the writing isn't nearly as concise or witty, but that's forgivable. Not everyone was blessed with Jane's genuis.

But, then, it all falls apart. Calder and Cassie have sex in the ocean (in the only truly memorable -- and erotic -- sex scene), and decide that they just can't keep their hands off each other. (They decide this after the fact, which was kind of amusing.) They keep falling into bed together, in spite of their mutal misunderstandings, anxiety, and attempts to control themselves. It all ends at Christmas, when Cassie walks away from Calder forever.

Ah, but there's a twist: Calder Westing is none other than Stephen West: brilliant, insightful, best-selling author. And he writes a book called Pride and Presumption (A modernization within a modernization? Now it's getting absurd.) where he tells his side of their story. Cassie gets a copy of the book (because Calder has applied for a writer-in-residence post at the college she works for) and after reading it, realizes that she woefully misunderstood him. She reaches out to him, and when he comes back into her life, they fall back in bed together. And, at this point, the book is only halfway done.

As the plot and characters unraveled for the rest of the book -- going from one ridiculous situation to another, punctuated by passionate sex between Calder and Cassie -- I realized that this was chick lit sex fantasy masquerading as a modern Jane Austen take, if only to give it a smidgen of legitimacy. However, this was not just no Jane Austen; it was no longer a modern Pride and Prejudice.

I'd like to say at this point that I was too put off to finish it, that I was noble and grown up and had better things to do with my time. But like every bad soap opera episode I was sucked into in college, I found I couldn't tear myself away, and, yes, I wanted to know what happened to Calder and Cassie, and how they got to their happily-ever-after.

And so, I finished it down to it's very last schmaltzy, sex-saturated, overwritten page. I am not proud of myself.

Jane Austen Ruined My Life

by Beth Pattillo

Guideposts Books

320 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

Emma Grant -- professor, Jane Austen specialist, and hopeless romantic -- has had the foundation of her world completely shattered. She walked in on her husband, Edward, in the act of sleeping with her teaching assistant. And, to top things off, he supported the teaching assistant in a plagerism accusaition against Emma. Because he is an acclaimed Milton specialist, and a powerful professor, she was booted off the university faculty. Divorced and jobless, Emma's grasping at whatever it takes to get her career (at least) going again. When she gets a mysterious letter from a Mrs. Gwendolyn Parrot in England, saying that she has Jane Austen's missing letters -- the ones that scholars all suppose were burned by her sister Cassandra -- Emma finds that she can't resist. She hocks what's left of her possessions and catches a flight to London.

Once in England, Emma discovers that her task won't be as easy as she thought. Mrs. Parrot is part of an elite socity called The Formidables that is charged with the task of keeping Jane's letters secret from the public. The only way Emma is going to be allowed to see the presumed letters is by completing a series of tasks. In addition, she discovers that her old best friend, Adam, whom she hasn't seen in 10 years, has been invited to stay at the same townhouse. In a somewhat predictible turn of events, Adam is always available and willing to help Emma out on her quests, during which she not only discovers more about herself and her perspective on her life (as well as insight into Jane Austen's life and works), but that she's been in love with Adam all along.

It's an interesting little novel, primarily for the creative liberites Pattillo takes with Austen's life. She invents a mysterious love for Austen, someone too poor for her to marry in good conscience, but someone whom she gives her heart to. In the process of figuring this out, Emma is taken on her own journey. What was especially fresh in the midst of all the usual chick-lit tropes, was that, in the end, Emma didn't end up with Adam (or any other man). She left with her integrity intact, and with a new dream, but still single and willing to put her life back together herself.

In the end, the book was fun, but it lacked the elements necessary to truly be a great book. Emma was clueless and annyoing (much like her namesake), and the mystery surrounding Adam and his presence in London got old after about a third of the way through. Even so, the reimagining of history (and Jane's missing letters), was definately worth the time spent reading.

Author Interview - Joshua Henkin

By Melissa

Joshua Henkin spent ten years working on his latest novel, a sweeping portrait of a marriage and the decisions, reactions, problems and happinesses that face every day life. In Henkin's words, the novel is "about what it's like to be in your twenties and thirties--even your forties in some cases--when you're waiting for life to begin and you find to your surprise that it already has begun and that the decisions you make have consequences that you're not even aware of yet." He has spent considerable time and effort reaching out to the blogging and reading communities, not only to promote his book, but to connect with readers. He was more than willing to take the time to answer a few questions.

MF: I liked Julian and Mia's relationship; it felt at times, very ordinary. Why did you choose to explore marriage and commitment as a major theme in Matrimony?

JH: Thanks for these questions, Melissa. I really appreciate them. The “why” questions are always the hardest ones to answer because they assume fiction writers are much smarter than they are. I’m always saying that novelists need to be a little stupid, and if they’re not stupid naturally, then they need to cultivate stupidity. I’m only sort of kidding. I’ve seen a lot of writers who were too smart for their own good and their books ended up suffering. In any case, a novelist doesn’t think in terms of themes. At the very least, I don’t. I’m not saying the themes of marriage and commitment aren’t in Matrimony, but I certainly didn’t think about them as I was writing the book. I think purely in terms of character and narrative, and I let my characters guide me. I happened to write about characters who got married young and then endured a variety of difficulties over the course of the next fifteen years. But I wasn’t thinking about marriage and commitment when I was writing my novel. I was thinking about my characters, doing my best to inhabit them as fully as possible. Whatever themes that emerged came in through the back door.

MF: Interesting. I've never thought of it that way, but it does make sense. I'm sure you get this question a lot, since your main character is a writer, but: is the book in autobiographical in any way?

JH: Matrimony is not autobiographical in any obvious way. The only character based on a real character is the dog, who’s a dead ringer for my wife’s and my dog (except that our dog is a golden retriever and female and Cooper is a Labrador retriever and male). All the other mammals in the book are invented. I didn’t meet my wife in college, her mother didn’t die of breast cancer, she didn’t cheat on me with my best friend (of if she did, she hasn’t told me yet!), and, alas, I’m not nearly as wealthy as Julian is. A lot of people assume that if I’m anyone in the book I must be Julian, since he’s a writer and I’m a writer, he grew up in New York and so did I, and both our names begin with “J.” But if anything, I’m more similar to Mia. Her background is certainly a good deal closer to mine. I’m Jewish and she’s Jewish, and we’re both children of professors.

MF: I read somewhere where it was noted that you shied away from many of the big things in life: birthdays, anniversaries, deaths (Mia's mother's death is mentioned, but not dwelt upon). Is there any particular reason for this?

JH: I’m not sure what you’re referring to—if anything, I’m always telling my students (and myself!) that one should always shoot for high-stakes situations, which is why birthdays, anniversaries, funerals, Bar Mitzvahs, Thanksgiving meals, etc. are among the best occasions for stories. In fact, when I started Matrimony, I thought the whole book was taking place at a college reunion (I was wrong, it turned out). Perhaps what you’re referring to is something I’ve said about how the seemingly mundane moments of life can be the most revealing. The dinner party scene in Ann Arbor, for instance, while not monumental in terms of the plot of Matrimony, is essential in terms of the feel of the book—the way it gives the reader the sense of Julian’s feeling like an outsider, which is central to the book and leads to some of the trouble Julian and Mia experience. As for Mia’s mother’s death, while it’s true that we don’t see the actual funeral, Mia’s mother’s illness and death are dwelt on quite a lot. In fact, to my mind Mia’s mother’s death is the central incident in the novel. It’s what changes everything—what prompts Julian and Mia to get married much early than they would have (and should have). Without Mia’s mother’s death, I’m not sure they would have gotten married at all. It’s the life-changing event for all the major characters.

MF: Yes, that is what I was getting at; the exploration of the mundane. Though I can see what you mean about Mia's mother's death being the central incident of the novel. Which brings me to: which character or situation was hardest to write? Easiest?

JH: They’re all equally hard. Nothing’s easy. My job as a writer is to try to make things seem easy, but that’s one big illusion. Matrimony took me ten years to write and I threw out more than three thousand pages. There wasn’t an easy moment.

MF: That's an interesting fact. As readers we get the impression that everything just dashes off the ends of writer's fingertips.

I'm from the Ann Arbor area, and I have to admit that I was distracted by the presence of the city in the book. (Perhaps that's solely because Ann Arborites are notoriously attached to their town...) Why did you choose to set so much of the book in Ann Arbor?

JH: A fellow an Arborite! Anyone who’s spent time in Zingerman’s Deli is a friend of mine! I probably set a lot of the book in Ann Arbor because I lived there for eight years. I tend to set my fiction in places I’ve lived. I’m better at imagining people I don’t know than at imagining places I’ve never been to.

MF: I know you're involved in blogging and participating in reading groups. Can you tell us about some of your experiences there? What have you found/learned by interacting with readers in this way?

JH: I could go on for hours. It’s all been incredibly positive and helpful—from guest blogging to talking to book groups to all sorts of other things. I’m now up to 100 book groups, and there’s more to come. It helps sales of the book, certainly, and that’s an important thing, especially in what’s a very difficult publishing climate. But even more important than that, blogs and book groups have allowed me to have contact with so many readers out there, and that’s been extremely valuable.

MF: I'm always curious about the technical aspects of writing. Do you have any writing rituals, like a specific time or place to write?

JH: I try as much as I can to write every day because if you write every day you live with your characters—you think about them even when you’re not writing. If you take a few days off, you have to reintroduce yourself to your characters. I prefer to write in the morning when possible because that way the work’s not hanging over me all day. It’s like going to the gym. If I go early in the day, then I’ve gotten it done, and I don’t spend the rest of the day saying to myself, “I need to go to the gym.” I often write in the Brooklyn Writers Space, which is a quiet space for writers where I’m a member and where I’ve studiously avoided learning the Internet password. But I work at home too sometimes. I think it’s important not to be too wedded to a particular time and place to write. A writer needs to learn how to write under any circumstances, even with your kids sitting on your lap, which is something I’ve gotten adept at doing.

MF: Interesting. What writers have influenced you the most? Why?

JH: It’s hard to know. You hope it’s the writers you like more than the writers you don’t like. I love Fitzgerald, Cheever, and Richard Yates. I’m a big fan of the short stories of Alice Munro and Lorrie Moore. A lot of people have compared Matrimony to Wallace Stegner’s Crossing to Safety, which I certainly take as a great compliment. Crossing to Safety is a wonderful novel.

MF: I'm always looking for good books for my reading list. What are you currently reading? What five books do you think every person should read?

JH: I recently finished Roxana Robinson’s most recent novel Cost, which I thought was terrific. I’m not very good with top-ten lists or top-five lists. I certainly think Lolita is an amazing novel. So is Revolutionary Road—a great book long before Kate Winslet graced the cover.

MF: I'll have to look those up; thanks! And, if you don't mind telling, what can we expect from you next?

JH: I’m about 200 pages into my new novel, which is already overdue at the publisher. But I’m fairly confident it won’t take ten years (famous last words!). It’s tentatively called The World Without You, and it takes place over a single July 4th weekend. Three adult sisters (mid to late thirties) and their spouses/significant others return with their parents to the family’s country home in the Berkshires, the occasion for which is the fourth anniversary of the brother’s death; he was a journalist killed in Iraq. When he died, he left a pregnant wife, who subsequently gave birth to a son, who is now three. The wife has moved out to Berkeley, where she’s a graduate student in anthropology, and she’s fallen in love with and has moved in with another man. She may end up marrying this man, and even if she doesn’t, she’ll likely end up marrying someone else, and that person might adopt the son. The dead brother’s widow comes to the reunion, too, with her son, though without her boyfriend. The three-year-old, then, is the object of narrative struggle. For the grandparents and the aunts, he’s their grandson and nephew, respectively; most important, he’s the embodiment of the dead brother. For his mother, though he’s that too, he’s principally her son and she’s moving on. In a sense, then, the novel is about grief and the ways that in some instances, at least, a spouse gets over the death of a spouse while a parent never gets over the death of a child.

MF: Sounds intriguing. Thanks for your time, Josh!

JH: Thanks for doing the interview. I really enjoyed it!

You can find out more about the author, his involvement in reading groups and his books at his website.

The Parliament of Blood

by Justin Richards

Bloomsbury Publishing

358 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

Take The Mummy (for the raising of powerful Egyptian mummies), Raiders of the Lost Ark (museums, adventure, and ancient artifacts), and Dracula (vampires and atmosphere), throw in a dash of political intrigue, set it in Victorian London, and voila: you have The Parliament of Blood, a vampire adventure novel that's an absolute romp to read.

The book starts with a bang -- the murder of a photographer on the streets of London, followed by the raising of an Egyptian mummy (he actually gets up and walks out of the room, into a mysterious, waiting carriage marked with an ankh) -- and doesn't let up. Our three main characters -- dashing, engineering-minded George Archer; beautiful, aspiring actress Liz Oldfield; and the plucky (yes, he really is plucky) former pickpocket Eddie Hopkins -- are faced with all kinds of adventures and close calls in dark alleyways, graveyards, ballrooms, as well as the House of Lords, as they try to stop an exclusive gentleman's club, nicknamed The Damnation Club, from taking over the world.

It's often over the top, but like the aforementioned movies, that's precisely what makes it a lot of fun. Perhaps Richards meant us to take it seriously, cashing in on the hip vampire trends of the past few years, but it's much, much better if, as a reader, you sit back and just enjoy the ride. It's one of those books that reads almost like a movie; certain scenes were written in such a way that you could just picture Brendan Frasier or Harrison Ford (who are both too old for the roles) or Shia LeBouf (who's closer in age) with their trusty sidekicks muscling their way through. In some books it can be distracting, but in this one it just adds to the adventure.

In addition, Palmer seem to be channeling the spirit of Stoker: there are a couple of clever asides about the author himself, and Palmer takes his vampire lore (with a couple of clever twists) directly from Stoker's classic itself. In addition, there's an overhanging tension, the uncertainty that at any moment something dark will jump out of the corner and get you. Palmer has a way with atmosphere -- including making excellent use of the famous London fog -- that can completely take the reader in.

Which is exactly where you want to be when reading this one: excited, scared, thrilled, and amused. Fabulous.

Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before

by David Yoo

Hyperion Books

374 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

Albert Kim is a social outcast. He became one on purpose after The Broom Incident his freshman year, soon after he moved to Bern, Massachusetts. He doesn't talk to anyone, he doesn't make eye contact; he essentially floats through the halls of high school, unseen, unnoticed. He likes it this way.

Then, the summer before his junior year, his parents -- over-achieving Asian immigrants that they are -- insist that he not spend the summer lazing about and get a job. He gets one at a local slummy inn, and he meets Mia. She is everything Albert is not: beautiful, popular, assured... and for some reason -- perhaps propelled by the fact that Mia had just broken up with her all-star boyfriend of three years -- they click. They click in a major way, and by the end of the summer are, in Mia's words, "something".

However, that something has to face two things: high school hierarchy, and (even more imposing), Mia's ex-boyfriend, Ryan "The House" Stackhouse, who is diagnosed with cancer at the beginning of the school year. Suddenly, at the very birth of Albert and Mia's relationship, she's dashing off to be Ryan's strength, solace, and help. Albert isn't allowed to be upset -- Mia needs time and space, and Ryan's the town's poster boy-- even though saying he's resentful is the world's biggest understatement. He has a growing suspicion that Ryan's acting needy precisely to steal Mia away from him, except proving that Ryan's scamming everyone is like trying to eat Jell-O with a fork.

It's always refreshing to read a first love story from the male point of view, and this book is no exception. It's simultaneously poignant and hilarious, and Albert as a main character carries the novel squarely on his hunched shoulders. As a reader, you can't help but falling a little in love with him yourself. Yoo takes Albert to a new level of Asian nerdy -- yes, he's smart and driven to do well in school, but mostly he's an outcast that hangs around with the 11-year-olds in his neighborhood. Mia changes some of that; Albert's first day back at school is markedly different from his previous two years: making eye contact, actually speaking during school. He's socially inept (his jokes are hilarious in their non-hilarity), but, because of his relationship with Mia, he's discovered that he wants to snap out of his self-induced coma.

And the results are worth reading about.

Somewhere in Heaven

The Remarable Love Story of Dana and Christopher Reeve

by Christopher Anderson

Hyperion

238 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

We all know the story: Christopher Reeve, the actor forever tied with the role of Superman, broke his neck in a freak horseriding accident in 1995, and was paralyzed from the neck down. It was a tragedy: someone who had been associated with activity and strength for his whole life suddenly consigned to sitting in a wheelchair for the rest of it. He made the best of his life after the accident, urging for research and raising money for the American Paralysis Assocation, with help from his wife and the love of his life, Dana.

It's supposed to be a soaring story, one full of emotion and heartbreak, of tragedy and triumph. But all I felt was an annoyance. I felt like before the accident, all Reeve really had to recommend himself was that he wasn't a jerk. I'm sure he felt great love for his eventual wife (they lived together for years because Reeve had a fear of commitment), but their courtship came off as cloying. And not to dis the dead guy, but I came away with the impression that, while a determined individual, he was also somewhat shallow and selfish. However, I blame the author, not Reeve himself. Anderson was exceptionally maudlin in his portrayal of the Reeves (I now know more about their sex life -- both before and after the accident -- than I ever wanted to know), and made a point of name-dropping whenever he could. I'm glad that Reeve was best friends with all these famous people, but I'm not sure how important it was to know who he knew. (With the exception of Robin Williams; I guess he and Christopher were best buds, and that Williams was a big part of Reeve's determination to make the best of it after the accident.)

In addition, the whole book was a good lesson in showing versus telling. Anderson kept telling me that Christopher and Dana were wonderful together, that they had an abiding love, and I just never felt it. I was told of the sacrifice, of the hours spent trying to make Reeve's life livable, but because of the little asides throughout the book (from the several houses and custom yacht to the cost of the machines Reeve used after the accident), all I could feel was that it was really lucky Reeve was relatively well off. If he'd been an average Joe, he probably would have died. Except there was no feeling of pure luck, of chance, in the book. The author presented his lifestyle almost as an entitlement (he makes it seem an accomplishment and burden that Reeve kept working to avoid bankruptcy; it's a good thing he got $100,000 per speech). The message seemed to be that while Reeve may have made some bad decisions as an actor, he was still good looking, and still talented, and (most of all) he had Love, so he deserved to spend millions of dollars making a go of it.

Then there was the long-suffering, angelic (though she insisted that she wasn't) Dana, who stood by her man, who sacrificed her career for his (and their) children, who died of lung cancer about a year after Reeve succumbed to an infection. She was beautiful, talented, amazing, wonderful... and completely unsympathetic because she was too perfect.

I sound more callous than I should; I'm treating the book more like a novel. These were real people, and I'm sure they had a real love and a real desire and it was a real tragedy that really changed their lives. Perhaps someone can write a book that can really capture that, because this one just didn't.

Author Interview: John Shors

Interviewed by Melissa

Avid traveler, former journalist, and author of a bestselling book based in India, author John Shors' newest novel is Beside a Burning Sea, the tale of a Japanese soldier and several Americans who are stranded on an island in the Pacific during World War II. He was more than gracious to be interviewed via email for ER while on vacation recently. You can find more about Shors and his books at his website, and read a review of the book here.

MF: I'm not aware of many World War II books that are set in the Pacific front (that may just be me; there is probably a lot out there!). Why did you decide to set your book in that time and place?

JS: For the very reason that you mentioned--there just aren't many contemporary novels about World War Two that are set in the South Pacific. Everything seems to always center on Europe. After spending three years in Japan, I was intrigued with why Japan went to war with the U.S. The thought of having both Americans and Japanese stranded on an island and being forced to rely on each other to survive was really appealing to me as a writer. I should also say that Beside a Burning Sea isn't just a war story. It's a novel about relationships.

MF: Why did you decide to make haikus such an integral part of the story? Tell us a bit about writing them, if you can.

JS: My Japanese character, Akira, is poet, and as his relationship with Annie, an American nurse, evolves, he begins to teach her about his love of poetry. Specifically, his love of haikus. I start out each chapter in Beside a Burning Sea with a haiku written from Akira's perspective--on what he is musing over at a particular moment. I did this for several reasons. One, to provide a change of pace to the reader. Two, to provide greater insight into Akira's character. Readers seem to enjoy these poems, and I've had many people send me emails with haikus that they've written. I've enjoyed reading these creations.

MF: Which character in the book do you relate to the most?

JS: I probably connect with Akira the strongest. I'm really happy with how he turned out. I also enjoyed creating the relationship between Jake (the ship's engineer) and Ratu (a young stowaway). The process of creating this sort of father-son relationship was really rewarding for me, as I think that these characters' voices are unique and strong.

MF: Is there anything you hope readers will get out of your book?

JS: I don't consider Beside a Burning Sea to be an anti-war novel, but it certainly does contain a few messages that I think are important to remember. War is often depicted in a glamorous manner, and I've long had a problem with that. There was nothing glamorous about World War Two. The conflict between my characters and the conflict that surrounds them reflects my thinking.

MF: One of the unique things about you -- and your books -- is your willingness to connect with readers through bookgroups and email exchanges. Tell us a bit about why you decided to reach out to readers this way. Has this affected the way you look at your books or your writing process?

JS: I wanted to give something back to the readers who support me, and created a book-club program, through which I call into book clubs (via speakerphone). To date, I've spoken with about 1,300 book clubs. I've enjoyed these experiences quite a bit, as I think have readers. Anyone interested in my program can simply email me at shors@aol.com to set up a call. Through my program, I've learned how important books are to readers. I've been asked thousands of very insightful questions.

MF: You've been a journalist and worked in public relations; how does writing novels compare to those writing-based professions? Better, worse, easier, harder?

JS: Being a novelist is harder in some ways, because you're doing almost all of it on your own. You don't have a team. You have a project, and the success or failure of that project squarely sits on your shoulders. That can be quite stressful, especially as deadlines approach.

MF: Where do you find inspiration for your writing?

JS: All of my novels are set overseas. Beneath a Marble Sky tells the story of the Taj Mahal. Beside a Burning Sea is set in the South Pacific. My third novel, Dragon House, will come out in September of 2009 and is set in modern-day Saigon. I love to travel and my travels inspire my writing.

MF: Do you have a special time or place to write? Any writing rituals?

JS: I wish I had giant chunks of time in which to write, but as the father of a pair of toddlers, my day has constant interruptions. Of course, this has great upside as well. I don't haven't any writing rituals, other than sometimes I prefer to write longhand.

MF: What writers have influenced you the most?

JS: Novelists who have tackled multi-layered works set abroad. James Clavell would be a good example.

MF: So, if you don't mind telling us, what can we look for from you next?

JS: Well, I'm working on the back cover for my upcoming novel, Dragon House. Here's what I have so far:

Set in modern-day Vietnam, Dragon House tells the tale of Iris and Noah—two Americans who, as a way of healing their own painful pasts, open a center to house and educate Vietnamese street children.

Iris and Noah find themselves reborn in an exotic land filled with corruption and chaos, sacrifice and beauty. Inspired by the street children she meets, Iris walks in the footsteps of her father, a man whom Vietnam both shattered and saved. Meanwhile, Noah slowly rediscovers himself through the eyes of an unexpected companion.

Resounding with powerful themes of suffering, sacrifice, friendship, and love, Dragon House brings together East and West, war and peace; and celebrates the resilience of the human spirit.

MF: Thanks for your time, John.

JS: Thanks!!!!

Everything Beautiful

by Simmone Howell

Bloomsbury Publishing
292 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

The story feels familiar. Proud Fat Girl, who is also a Bad Girl with a Heart of Gold and a Dead Mom, is exiled to Wacky Christian Camp because she's more than her father can handle. She goes, determined to hate it. Kids at the camp are that weird brand of stereotypical religious: Close Minded and Hypocritical (though some are Broad Minded and Willing to Party). She falls in with the misfits -- a pair of siblings that never quite fit in and a former Hot Guy but is now Scarred for Life because of a Dumb Drinking Accident. Through them she begins to find Herself, as well as Real Love and a Place.

Enough with the clichés, already.

Surprisingly though, clichés aside, the book worked quite well, within its own limits. Riley -- self-proclaimed bad girl with an attitude, and weight, problem -- was quite abrasive at first; still smarting two years after her mother's untimely death, and struggling with weight and insecurity, she hides behind her attitude. It's a tough thing to deal with at first, but as the book progresses, Riley becomes less cartoonish and more three-dimensional, as well as likeable. The dopey-happy Christian-based holiday camp, Spirit Ranch, is the perfect foil for all of Riley's badness: how is she, an overweight, smoking, atheist going to even manage being in the same space as all those virginal, super-religious kids? At first, it's all she can do to make it to Wednesday, the day her friend Chloe is going to spring her from hell. She hates her roommates and is disgusted (and embarrassed) by the advances of the resident cad. But, as the week goes on, she manages to get beyond the stereotypes, and connects with several campers, most notably Dylan, who is back at camp after an accident left him in a wheelchair the year before. It's through making friends that Riley begins to find peace; realizing that maybe there's more to life than drinking and screwing and partying. In the end, she doesn't find religion -- which would have been unbelievable for the character-- but she does begin to find some sort of peace from all the anger she'd been carrying around.

In the end, though, it was the setting -- Australia -- that carried the book. Between the description of the deserts to the Australianisms to the attidude, it oozed Australia. Which made a possibly overly clichéd book that much more readable. And that's a Good Thing.

Princess of the Midnight Ball

by Jessica Day George

Bloomsbury Publishing
288 pages

Reviewed by Melissa

The inherent challenge in writing a fairy tale is coming up with something unique, an unusual or unexpected way of telling it. Many authors approach that problem by using the fairy tale as a loose framework, an idea upon which to craft their story. Jessica Day George, however, approaches the fairy tale novelization from a different angle: how can she, as an author, work within the bounds set by the original telling and create a captivating story?

The story in this case is The Twelve Dancing Princesses, as told by the Brothers Grimm. In George's telling, Galen is a soldier coming home from a 12-year-long war with a neighboring country. He is given a job as an under-gardener in the king's palace of his home country, Westfalin -- a country roughly patterend after Germany, with German food, customs and words scattered throughout the novel -- and there encounters the king's twelve beautiful daughters. The daughters are cursed -- due to some desperate, albeit bad, bargaining on the part of their mother -- to dance every night in the underworld for the King Under Stone.

Up to this point, the book is genuinely interesting: the princesses are unable to talk about their curse, so the king -- as well as the kingdom -- are left in the dark about where they are going at night and why. The narrative, by default, deals with the consequences of the princesses' actions; countries are abandoning their alliance with Westfalin, suitors come and are mystified and subsequently killed (by convenient, and natural, accidents), the Archbishop accuses the princesses of witchcraft, and the city -- and presumably the country -- is in a state of unrest. It's quite fascinating seeing the fairy tale from the outside, as it were.

However, Galen -- our stalwart and noble hero -- has fallen in love with Rose, the oldest princess, and decides to try his hand at discovering where the princesses are going. Through the help of the archetypal wise people -- one a stranger, the other a fellow gardener -- he is able to thwart the magic of the underworld and follow the princesses there, and the book follows the time-tested fairy tale plotline until the inevitable end. The one truly unique element, something that's common in George's books, is the use of a homespun craft, in this case knitting. It's our hero who knits; Galen picked it up as a soldier, and uses it to relax and meditate; something to keep his hands busy while he rests. George uses the act of knitting in many ways: to express charity and later love, and in the end as a means to thwart evil. She even goes as far as to include patterns at the end of the book, something which will probably excite all her fans who also happen to knit (or will be excited about learning).

In the end, though, fascinating and respectable as it is, George's approach to fairy tale telling leaves something to be desired. Because she follows so closely the strictures of the original tale, the book often feels trite and full of the usual tropes: the hero is helped because he is kind. He falls in love with the princess, and because of his love, bravery and wit, he is able to overcome all evil, thereby winning him the princess in the end. It's almost as if the book is a broader sketch of the original tale; there's more detail than the Grimms had, but not as much as there could be if George would have colored outside the lines. However, there is a challenge in inventing a world that fits the fairy tale, that feels so much like it could have been something that has been handed down through this ages. And George succeeds at that, at least, most admirably.

Beside a Burning Sea

by John Shors

New American Library
424 pages

Review by Melissa

As everyone knows, war books, especially those about World War II, abound. WWII provides the curious with a veritable minefield of stories: Holocaust victims, invaders, survivors, brutality. Yet, in all the stories, it is the rare book (at least among English-speakers) that takes a look at the Pacific front, exploring the war from the perspective of the Japanese-American conflict. Perhaps that's because the conflict there doesn't seem to give rise to stories nearly as dramatic or horrific as those which emerged from the European theater. Or perhaps it's because there haven't been enough authors capable of or willing to tell the stories of the war in the Pacific.

John Shors takes on that side of the war in his recent novel, Beside a Burning Sea. It's 1942, and the crew and staff of the American hospital ship Benevolence is going about doing their duty: rescuing and saving the lives of soldiers, whether American or Japanese. Until their ship is bombed and sunk. Out of the 155 people on board, only 9 survive (one of which is a Japanese soldier), and set up camp on a nearby island. While they bide their time on the island, waiting either for Japanese ships to invade, or American ships to rescue them, relationships develop, are explored, people are lost and found and rescued (metaphorically as well as literally).

The plot itself is quite slight: people are on the island waiting to be found, and to add some semblance of conflict, there's a traitor among them. But, the book is less about the war and conflict and more more about the deeper connections one makes, whether to his or her god, things or other people. The Benevolence's captain Joshua's marriage to Isabelle, a nurse on board, has been suffering because of the weight of their duties. On the island, however, they discover not only the roots of their love, but something they can build upon. Annie, another nurse on board and Isabelle's sister, is weighed down by fear and responsibility, and she discovers her first real love with Akira, the Japanese soldier who rescued her and her sister from the sinking ship. Akira is probably the most interesting character in the novel: a teacher and poet before he was a soldier, he is dealing with the atrocities the Japanese committed in China and Korea, as well as a personal betrayal. His relationship with Annie is the most extensively explored in the novel, and there is a lot to address there; not only are they dealing with prejudices of race and wartime, but their own individual haunted pasts. I did enjoy the use of poetry -- in this instance, haiku -- to bring the two characters together. Then there's Jake, an engine man, and Ratu, a Fijian stowaway, who develop a close friendship with Jake as he longs for a father figure to replace the one that has left his life to help the Americans fight the war.

The rest of the book falls by the wayside in comparison to Annie and Akira; there's hope and strength in Joshua and Isabelle's relationship, but it's just not as compelling. And while I enjoyed Jake and Ratu's banter, and slowly developing mutual affection, I was left unmoved in the end by the crisis. As for the rest of the characters, a couple are just there, as placeholders; Shors doesn't use them much to further the plot, and so while he gives them elaborate back stories, as a reader they are immaterial. The traitor, though, is also an interesting character; Shors is willing to delve into the back story to give the readers an interesting set of motivations. And while the person is known early on to the reader, it is not to the characters, which adds some tension to the story.

That's not what drew me to the book, however. It's a beautiful love story, first and foremost, and one to be savored and enjoyed.

The Anatomy of First

By Melissa Fox

First love. First kiss. First steps. First child. First home. First impressions.

They all have something in common: the excitement, anticipation, of being first. Unsullied. New.

In the book world, so much hinges on that first. First book by an author, first book in a series, first time with a particular genre. All of which determines whether or not you'll keep reading, not just that book but -- narrowly -- others by that author or -- broadly -- others in that genre.

What is it, though, that makes a good first? It's obviously different for every individual, but these are some of the elements that make a good first book experience for me.

A good cover: Like a good first impression, a good cover can make or break that first. If you know nothing about the story or about the author, the cover can draw you in or repel you. Think about it: how often have you been drawn to the colorful, interesting, beautiful, catchy cover? It doesn't matter if you liked the book afterward; the cover is what draws you in.

Good jacket flap copy: For me, a consummate jacketflap reader, having a good description on the dustjacket (or the back) is essential. I want something that will whet my appetite without giving too much away. Something that will give me a small sample of the flavor of the book. Something that will let me know what this book is about, and give me a reason to buy it or check it out, and spend time with it.

First sentence: Granted, it's not always important, though I have picked up books on the strength of the first sentence alone. (I Capture the Castle comes to mind.) But the first sentence is something special. It sets the tone of the book, raises (or lowers) expectations, draws you into the world that the author has created. While I don't think the first sentence can make or break a book, it's certainly something that will help (or hinder) your overall impression of the story.

But enough of the first impressions. Reading a book is like meeting a person: you spend valuable time with these characters, this author. What makes a book something that you want to read again -- immediately start over once you've finished it? Or read the rest of the books in the series? Or branch out to other authors who write in a particular genre? Or read everything else that author has written, waiting with baited breath for their newest book?

Again, it's individual for each reader, but these are some of the things I look for:

Engaging plot, characters, story: This, to me, is what really makes or breaks a first book. If I'm taken away into another place or time, if I can escape for a few moments into the author's world, and find interesting or enjoyable or captivating or challenging characters there doing interesting or enjoyable or captivating or challenging things, then I'm hooked. I like it when authors do something different with a familiar genre; it makes me want to go out and read other authors to compare. But I also like it when the comfortable and familiar are well done.

Writing: Yeah, I'll forgive a lot when it comes to writing; I'm not one who will love a book primarily for the beautiful/elegant/picturesque writing. But it does matter, even to me (more to some others). If a book is clunky, then it makes it hard to enjoy the characters, plot and story. Granted, I also think that sometimes exceptionally beautiful/elegant/picturesque writing--with the result that every paragraph just seems carefully fitted into place--also can make it hard to enjoy the rest of the book.

Right time, right frame of mind: More than anything, I think this has everything to do with the success of a first book. The author worked, sweated to create this story and get it into your hands and you're having a bad day so you don't like the book. Or conversely, you are at a point in your life where the book hits you just exactly right, and you're in love. It's not always the case, of course, but there's a reason many readers are so fickle. Why else would we say, "What do I feel like reading today?"

Curiosity factor: Sometimes, especially when you're trying something new, it's because you're curious. You've heard about the author and want to sample some of his or her work. You're interested in the genre or subject matter. How interested you are in what that author is presenting has a lot to do with how you react to the book. If it's something you're longing to know about or be exposed to, you'll forgive a lot more than if it's something you've been assigned. And the curiosity factor has another side: if everything falls into place, and you love the book you've just read, you're propelled to seek out more. Whether it be the other books by that author, other books in the same genre, or simply the next in the series, you've been made curious by what you've just read.

And that's the best first of all.

Two Girls of Gettysburg

by Lisa Klein

Bloomsbury Publishing
Reviewed by Melissa

The basic plot is simple: Lizzie and Rosanna are teenage cousins and best friends. They both live in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania when the Civil War breaks out in 1860. However, Rosanna is in exile from her family in Virginia (her parents sent her to live with her sister in Gettysburg to get her away from a boy back home), and soon after the war starts, she feels the pull to return and join the Southern Cause. This causes a rift between her and Lizzie that only time, war, and the Battle at Gettysburg can heal.

I really wanted to like this book. I've liked Lisa Klein's work in the past, and generally like historical fiction. I thought that the Civil War, particularly the Battle of Gettysburg, told from the point of view of two cousins on opposite sides could be interesting. But unfortunately, this book was a mess.

Initially, my dislike was because of what I felt were stock characters -- the noble free black man that suffers; the honorable hard-working Northern girl; the flighty Southern belle who has to learn a hard lesson -- I've read about all these people before. I was slightly interested in Lizzie and her plight holding down the fort while her brother and father were gone, but it still felt trite, even though it was not meant to. Rosanna I actively disliked, and I ended up skimming the chapters written from her point of view. She matures throughout the course of the book, but admittedly by the time she becomes somewhat likable, I didn't care why she was feeling noble and cared about the Southern cause. In addition, Klein is juggling an enormous cast: not just Lizzie and Rosanna, but Rosanna's two beaus, Lizzie's entire family, the hired black man and his wife; various soldiers and historical characters, Rosanna's sister and children... the list goes on and on.

I realized about halfway through the book that it's not just the characters that were contributing to the mess: the pacing was awkward. The first half takes place over three years. Because of all the jumping between time (months pass in between chapters at times; at other times, two different chapters take place over the same time period) and place (between Gettysburg, Richmond, and the battlegrounds of the South), I never really got a sense of who Lizzie or Rosanna really were. So, during the second half, when time slowed way down -- it takes place over the three days of fighting at Gettysburg -- when I was supposed to feel the emotional impact that battle had on not only the soldiers, but also on their families and the town of Gettysburg, I found that I just didn't care. I knew, intellectually, that I should, but I found myself skimming chapters, just reading the bits that I was actually interested in (specifically Lizzie's interest in a local boy, Martin).

The one thing that this book does have going for it is that it feels historically accurate. Admittedly, I'm not up enough on Civil War history to definitively say that it is historically accurate, but Klein doesn't spare us any unpleasantness: this is not a prettified Civil War. There's death -- lots of it -- not only by gun, but by dysentery, blood poisoning, typhoid fever... She depicts the starving people in Richmond, the prisons for prisoners of war, the looting and wrecking that soldiers did as they went through the countryside. It's not a pleasant place or time.

Even with that, though, there's just not enough for me to recommend it.

The Musician's Daughter

by Suzanne Dunlap

Bloomsbury
Reviewed by Melissa

It's late-18th-century Vienna, and Theresa Maria is the daughter of one of Prince Nicholas Esterhazy's court musicians. Her godfather is the estimable Joseph Haydn, and she thinks life is just about perfect. That is, until her father is found outside a Gypsy camp brutally murdered on Christmas Eve. Faced with a mother who's extremely pregnant and the looming responsibility of providing for the household, Theresa is not willing to be a "good" girl and let her father's murder go unsolved. She turns to Haydn for support and financial help, and, in the process, discovers her father had been leading a secret life. She embarks upon a path through many dangers in order to uncover the truth about her his death.

I have read one book by Dunlap before, and what struck me most was the combination of musicality and history. I was hoping for -- probably expecting -- more of the same when I started this book. I was mildly disappointed that there were not more passages describing the music, or what it felt like for Theresa to play, or hear, the violin. Dunlap still included passages of musical transcendence, but I wasn't as captivated by them as I wanted to be. Perhaps it was because I'm not a violinist; different instrument, different language. But, I think I came away feeling as if the music in the book was secondary to the adventure, and that it really wasn't all-important what instrument Theresa played.

That aside, though, it was a fairly adventuresome book. A political thriller of sorts, Theresa not only investigates the murder of her father, but manages to dig deep into political corruption and the kidnapping and selling of young boys as menial workers in Hungary. She manages to get through some tight scrapes, making friends with a Romany clan on the way, and in the end, finds justice (or at least closure). I'm not sure how plausible it all is, but between the rich historical detail and the action, I could forgive it. There's even a hint at romance between Theresa and one of Hayden's court musicians. Dunlap brushes over or just hints at the harsher details of 18th-century life, which gives the book a slightly disjointed feel. I think she was trying to keep up the pace of the book -- which she did, considering it was a lot of running back and forth from Vienna to the countryside -- but I think I would have enjoyed it more if there were more detail and less running.

In all, though, it's a good combination of music and history and adventure. I did like Theresa as a character: she was willing to do what needed to be done, at any cost, even if it meant being a bit foolhardy. And it all ended okay, which is definitely a plus for this kind of book. It just didn't make me want to pick up the violin. Which is probably a good thing.

Author Interview: Howard Whitehouse

By Melissa F.

Every once in a while, I come across a book that I think is just perfect. The Island of Mad Scientists: Being an Excursion to the Wilds of Scotland, Involving Many Marvels of Experimental Invention, Pirates, a Heroic Cat, a Mechanical Man, and a Monkey, was one of those books. Technically the third in a series of books featuring three very lively, funny, enjoyable young teen characters, it nonetheless works well as a stand-alone read. One part adventure book, one part P.G. Wodehouse, it promises to captivate readers of all ages. See my review here. When Howard Whitehouse was offered up his time for an interview, I couldn't resist the chance to talk to the person behind this hilarious book. Besides, I heard he does all his own stunts.

MF: Because I started the series on the third book, I missed out a bit on the origin story of the characters. (If you don't mind explaining it a bit.) How did all the kids meet? What were their first two adventures (in a nutshell)?

HW: ‘The Strictest School in the World’ is a prison break novel, set in a Victorian boarding school. Emmaline’s very hoity-toity upper class parents have sent her home from India to attend this hugely repressive girl’s school to become a proper young lady. What she really wants is to become a pioneer of aeronautics (as one might). But she’s scared of plunging to her doom in the process. She’s staying with her eccentric Aunt Lucy the summer before school begins, and there she meets Rab – “Rubberbones”- an enthusiastic village lad who never seems to get hurt. And he has an uncanny ability to float. So she has a test pilot. But, after a couple of not entirely successful attempts at flight, she is sent to St. Grimelda’s, where almost everything is banned. She meets Princess Purnah, who is also a prisoner – sorry, pupil, there. There are unsuccessful escape attempts, and a lot of trouble with the school pterodactyls. Plus friendly Romany travelers, mad old colonels and a lot of groceries are used as missiles.

The second book, “The Faceless Fiend” begins a few weeks later, with all three youngsters staying at Aunt Lucy’s cottage, where the deranged Professor Bellbuckle is attempting to educate them. He’s not very gifted as a teacher. But then villainy intrudes when an international criminal mastermind, known as the Faceless Fiend for his, er, total lack of an actual face, schemes to kidnap Purnah for reasons involving international politics of a nefarious sort. In the sort of mix up that comes from dressing up in the bedroom curtains, Rubberbones is seized in the belief that he is the princess. The action moves to Darkest London where Sherlock Holmes and a rented balloon help to locate the abducted boy on the roof of a very tall house, but the Fiend’s Masked Minions intervene, and Rubberbones is lost again, wandering the
East End in search of his own family. There’s a lot of Dickensian stuff with rat-killing contests, elderly dogs, and street urchins. Purnah, meanwhile, tangles with her old headmistress and some stuffy bureaucrats who want her to go back to St. Grims, while Emmaline become involved with a stunt aviator called The Belgian Birdman. In a thrilling finale at the newly opened (and now opening) Tower Bridge, Emmaline uses the birdman’s craft to save her friends from the clutches of the Faceless Fiend as they fight on the roof of an out-of-control coach.

There are chocolates and cream cakes involved, as well.

MF: So, where did you get the idea for Emmaline and Rubberbones? How about Princess Purnah?

HW: I’d been reading about lot of wacky Victorian inventions for a gaming project that never took off, and it occurred to me that – as in “Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines” – these crazy early aircraft would be ideal for a funny adventure story. It was when I decided that the pioneer aeronaut was a kid – and then, specifically, a teenage girl – that Emmaline came to mind. The idea was that she’s intelligent and thoughtful, brave in many things but terrified of doing the thing that is most important here – actually flying. So, of course, in all three books she has to pluck up her courage and fly in devices that she knows are completely unsafe.

Rubberbones is the boy everyone knows, the impulsive lad who, no matter what he does, never seems to get hurt. He was the obvious match for Emmaline. He’s all heart and no planning.

Princess Purnah is one of those characters that writers will tell you simply jump out of the story and demand a starring role. She’d begun simply as a foreign girl who the mean girls picked on and the teachers couldn’t be bothered to educate in the English language. She was a bit of a victim. But then she just burst out of the story by trying to escape, and I knew I had to rewrite some of the earlier text to at least suggest that there was another side to her.

MF: Did you plan to write for middle grade readers? Or is that just where the story took you? (Or did the publishers/agents decide all that?)

HW: I’d written a funny adventure book some years previously set in the Victorian army (but failed to find a publisher for it). That had been aimed at adults. I hadn’t really thought of writing for young readers until my friend Joanne Schwartz, a children’s librarian in
Toronto, suggested I try it (and handed me a pile of books to read). I started writing in a style that came easy to me – a bit formal and old-fashioned - and I thought it might work for, say, a twelve year old reader (not that I had a lot of knowledge as to reading levels). As it was, my editor told me that I was pretty much on the mark; sometimes I have to simplify something, or explain a bit of history, and every so often we have to take out a joke that’s too sophisticated (or too rude!)

MF: Who is your favorite character in the books? Why?

HW: I have to say Purnah, because she’ll stab me in the arm with a sharpened butter knife if I don’t. And Professor Bellbuckle, who is simply deranged.

MF: I have found that humor is fickle; not everyone laughs the same thing. Is there a "secret" to writing humorous stories? How do you go about it? Do you have an inspiration?

HW: Humor comes easily to me, sometimes at times it shouldn’t (which is why I should not be called on to testify in court or speak at a funeral). I teach creative writing courses for middle graders through my local library system, and I see that different people have hugely different senses of humor. This has a lot to do with age, of course, and what works as a written rather than visual piece; writing a banana skin gag, for instance, doesn’t really work very well,

For myself, I just sit down, start typing, and entertain myself. That’s pretty easy for me! Inspiration? Kids, cats, daily life. If I had to name a writer, it has to be P.G. Wodehouse for sheer hilarity. Of modern writers, Bill Bryson, Janet Evanovich and an English guy called Harry Pearson, who wrote a brilliant book called Achtung Schweinhund! about his (and my) obsession with model soldiers.

MF: How you decide to become a writer? Is it something you've "always" wanted to do?

HW: I tell the audiences at my appearances about my first efforts as a fictioneer. When I was about seven I wrote a wild west story where all the characters were teddy bears. I no longer work in that genre.

In my teens and twenties I wrote a lot of articles and games on military history, later writing two non-fiction books about Victorian battles in Africa. In the nineties I wrote some short stories and an unpublished novel about a completely idiotic (yet courageous) British officer called Binky Bagshot, which were not a million miles from the Emmaline and Rubberbones books in style. Twelve people in the whole world though they were terrific. I also wrote some “Victorian Science Fiction” short stories for a project which never came off.

It was only in my forties that I began writing for young people, and it seemed to work out all round.

MF: What are your five favorite books of all time (or at least currently)?

HW: Tough call!

My favorite kids’ book is “The Wind in the Willows.” I’d also add Lloyd Alexander’s “Prydain” series, although technically that consists of four books. I thought Phillip Reeve’s “Mortal Engines” series was terrific, as well.

Aside from that? Max Allen Collin’s “Stolen Away,” a mystery set around the Lindbergh baby kidnapping. Njal’s Saga. And something by P.G. Wooster? Hmm. So many of them. Maybe “The Code of the Woosters”.

MF: Code of the Woosters is brilliant, I have to agree. In a not-quite-completely unrelated question: do you have a favorite joke?

HW: This is a very visual joke, since it really demands the teller flapping like a penguin and making weird bird noises.

A man is walking down the street, when suddenly he is accosted by a penguin. The penguin flaps his wings, says, “Parrrrrppppp!!!!”, and sticks his little penguin wing tip in the man’s hand. He waddles along like this, while the man can’t get rid of him. They meet a policeman, who says, “Where do you think you are going with that penguin, sir?”
The man explains what happened. the policeman says, "If I were you, I’d take him to the zoo, sir.” “Oh, right!”, answers the man, gratefully. “Good idea! the zoo!”

The next day the policeman sees the man, together with the penguin, walking towards him, wing-in-hand, smiling and parrrrpping away..

“Didn’t I tell you to take that penguin to the zoo, sir?” demands the policeman.

“Oh yes, officer. It was wonderful. Thanks for suggesting it! We are off to the circus this afternoon!” replies the man.

MF: So, if you don't mind telling us, what can we look for from you next?

HW: My next thing for Kid’s Can Press, for 2010 (alas!) is “Bogbrush the Barbarian”, a hugely silly fantasy romp about a muscle-bound barbarian hero so stupid that all the other barbarians notice. It involves an epic quest to the city of Scrofula to prove that Bogbrush is, or might be, but probably isn’t, the true heir to the throne. It’s a lot of fun, with a fake "educational" aspect where I throw in ludicrous quizzes, “Did You Know?” bits, and life advice that any halfway bright ten year old will immediately disregard.

I’ve got the elements of a new “Emmaline and Rubberbones” novel (set partly in the American west, with the real life robber gang known as the Wild Bunch as characters), but so far it’s just an outline.

And I’ve just finished the first draft of a young adult novel about a dangerously computer-literate teenage girl, which I wrote in partnership with an actual teenaged writer. It’s very funny indeed, if I say so myself!

MF: Thanks for your time, Howard!

You can visit Howard at his website or blog. Or read chapters of his novels here and here. And if you didn't get enough of him in this interview, you can find some videos of him here.

The Triumph of Deborah

by Eva Etzioni-Halevy

Plume Books
Review by Melissa

Historical fiction based on Biblical stories is an iffy thing. There's not much actual history about the time periods when it takes place, at least not the sort that gives you detailed information about what particular people were doing. Most writers just tend to use their imagination about the situations surrounding the Biblical account, discarding the historical information, such as it is. In this case, the account is that of Deborah, the prophetess (her story is found in Judges, if you're interested). She was one of the few females to be in a leadership role in the patriarchal Israelite society, filling the role of judge in Israel. It's not as well-known to me, at least, as some of the other women's stories in the Bible, and for this reason I was intrigued by this book. Etzioni-Halevy tells Deborah's story, weaving it in with the story of her army commander, Barak. He follows her command, and goes to war against the Canaanites, defeating them soundly. He frees all the Israelite slaves and takes the Canaanite women as prisoners. In the throng are two half-sisters, Nogah and Asherah. It's these two women who form a love triangle with Barak, and eventually shape the events between the Israelite nation and the Canaanite kings.

My usual complaint about fictionalized accounts of Biblical stories is that they feel too modern. The women are too empowered, the men too sensitive. I figure that the people in Biblical times would never have really have acted that way; women's empowerment and men's finding their inner selves is a modern phenomena. Fortunately, Etzioni-Halevy's book doesn't have that problem. Having had a career as a professor, Etzioni-Halevy knows how to do her research, and how to present a more plausible portrayal of the time period. While the women were influential, and possibly could even be called powerful, they didn't feel modern, instead working within the limitations that Israelite and Canaanite society placed on them. I appreciated that.

However, for a book entitled The Triumph of Deborah, it really wasn't much about her. She appeared in the beginning to get the plot moving, somewhere in the middle she had sex with Barak and in the end she reconciled with her husband and pushed for peace with the Canaanites. But the book wasn't about her. It was more about Barak and his journey to redemption and centeredness and his conflicts with women, including Deborah, than it was about Deborah's influence and power. I was expecting something more along the lines of, say, Orson Scott Card's Women of Genesis series or The Red Tent, where the focus is more on how the women interact with the heavily male society. Sure, that probably would have made Deborah into a more modern character than she really was, but I think Etzioni-Halevy missed out on an opportunity to explore the motivations and conflicts surrounding Deborah being a prophetess in a male-dominated society. Instead, Deborah was benevolent and beloved, and possibly respected, but very uninteresting.

In addition to not having my expectations about the book met, the main characters -- Barak especially -- drove me nuts. I kept reminding myself that he was a premodern Israelite male, which is why he was sexist, uncaring and misogynistic; but honestly, I wanted to throttle him. It didn't help that he was a sex fiend: he repeatedly made love to all three of the female leads, in addition to countless maids. Basically, if it had two legs and boobs, he was after it. And then he hits the roof when he finds out his One True Love had sex with another man (historically accurate, sure, but hypocritical and annoying nonetheless). Then there was the actual sex itself. Ahem. Let's just say that not since Larry McMurty's Lonesome Dove have I read a book that contained so many memorable -- and amusing -- euphemisms for the penis and for intercourse. I suppose some people have found it moving and passionate, but I was mostly rolling my eyes and sniggering. Granted, it made for some *cough* entertaining *cough* pillow conversations with my husband, so I suppose it did do what it was supposed to do.

In the end, that was what bothered me the most about the book: it was essentially a Harlequin Romance disguised as a Bible story when it could have been so much more. And while I can see the appeal of that to some, for me it was a real turn off. Pun is (probably) intended.

Chasing Windmills

by Catherine Ryan Hyde
Doubleday Books
Review by Melissa

There are many books exploring the effect that one life has on others, for good or for ill. There are books about people with broken lives trying to make the best of a bad situation. This book takes those two ideas and combines them, asking the question: will two broken halves make a whole?

Sebastian has spent the last 10 years thinking his mother is dead, and having his every move controlled by his overbearing father. He is allowed outside for one run a day, and on one of those runs, he makes a friend, Delilah. It is through her that Sebastian begins to question his father's mandates. He ends up on the subway, in the middle of the night, riding for the sheer joy of the freedom.

Maria has spent the last 7 years living with her boyfriend, Carl, who beats her whenever she looks like she's thinking or doing even the remotest thing out of "line". When Maria loses her job, she can't bear to tell Carl that she's not working anymore, so she takes to writing the subway during her graveyard shift. It's there that she meets Sebastian, who has taken to escaping his confining existence in the middle of the night to ride the subways.

Neither Sebastian nor Maria has much hope about their lives; they are both consigned to their fate. That is, until they meet. It's a scene from the movies: they meet, there's a spark, they fall in love, their lives are changed. It's simultaneously incredibly powerful and incredibly naive. But, it changes their lives irrevocably; it is the strength from their meeting that gives them the confidence, and power, to leave their abusers behind.

It's actually relatively easy for Sebastian and Maria to leave -- there's a few missteps and miscommunications, but both Sebastian's father and Maria's boyfriend were relatively easy obstacles to overcome. However, once they get to their utopia -- the Mojave Desert and the windmills of the title -- things are not as perfect as it all seemed late at night on the subway. The end unravels slightly -- as a reader, you want the perfectly happily ever after, and yet we are given something in between Romeo and Juliet and West Side Story: no one dies, but no one is perfectly happy, either. What they are, though, is free.

In the end, Hyde decides that two broken halves do not make a whole. But they do make for a mostly compelling story.

Author Interview: Christine Son

Interviewed by Melissa

Christine Son is a lot of things: a woman, a lawyer, a Korean-American, a person who "loves peach cobbler, silly movies, laughter, stand-up comedians, The Daily Show, Hawaii, Balenciaga handbags, Texas Hold ‘Em, Belvedere vodka, chocolate, Spam (the quasi-food, not the Internet scourge)." And now, she can add writer to that list. Her first novel, Off the Menu, was recently released, and we're pleased that she was able to take time out of her busy schedule to answer some questions about her book, about being a child of immigrants, and about balancing lawyering with writing.

MF: This is your first novel; congrats! Since it's just been released, could you tell our readers a bit about your book?

CS: Off the Menu is about the balance that three, twenty-something year old, successful Asian-American women must strike between who they are (which is the embodiment of everyone's expectations, including their own) and what they want to be (which is different than what anyone would think for them). For example, a character named Whitney is a Harvard grad who is working at a large law firm, but she harbors secret desires to be a folk singer, a path that would floor her parents and, as she believes, her friends. Hercules is an incredibly successful restaurateur, but her relationship with her unassimilated Chinese father threatens her understanding of self. Audrey is adopted by incredibly wealthy parents who think she’s throwing away her life by marrying someone “beneath her.” The story’s also about friendship, because the main characters have been best friends for fifteen years, yet they don't share the most important aspect of themselves for fear of public failure and judgment. In a way, it's my story, as I became a lawyer in part to fulfill what everyone expected of me, my own secret ambitions of writing and my unwillingness to share with anyone what I was doing until the book had sold. Silly, I know. But I think a lot of people have experiences similar to mine.

MF: Lawyer to writer seems like a big career change. Was writing something you always wanted to do, or was this something out of the blue? Have you found it difficult to balance these two parts of your life?

CS: I think I always did want to write, but it seemed like such a luxury of sorts. There was the real world I had to deal with, school loans and family, familial expectations and my own notions of "success." But in the end, I realized that if I was ever going to write, I just had to do it. So I did. I left the law firm and went in-house with a company, which was great in providing a more human work-life balance. When I'm writing, my days are pretty long, and it does feel like I have two full-time jobs, but I love them both. I think that's really the secret to balance--going after those things in life that really matter to you (regardless of what they are) and letting everything else take a back seat.

MF: Do you hope to eventually leave lawyering behind and become a full time writer, or will writing just be something to do in addition to being a lawyer?

CS: People have asked me that a lot, and they always seem a little disappointed when I say that I actually quite like being a lawyer. At least being an in-house lawyer. So long as my relationships at home don't suffer, I'm thrilled to bits to be able to do both. Working gives me a perspective I might not otherwise have. It affords me relationships that I might not be able to dream up. I love my friends at work. And I enjoy the substantive matters of the law. So for now, I'm happy to be able to do both. Of course, when I'm having a wretched day at the office, it is nice to fantasize about leaving to write full time...

MF: How long did the process of writing from conception to finally seeing it in print? How do you feel finally getting your story out there?

CS: Off the Menu went through so many iterations. From first conception to finally seeing it on the shelves--I'd say it took about two and a half years. Publishing is such a hurry-up-and-wait industry. You write, write, write, pray, pray, pray, and then wait, wait, wait. But once a publisher says "yes," it seems like time travels at warp speed. There are tons of revisions, deadlines, editorial guidance. I am so incredibly fortunate to have had such an amazing editor who really molded the story and made it better. Off the Menu's pure fiction, of course, but all fiction is based on something familiar, whether it's a writer's experiences, or her feelings or her fears or whatnot. So, while I'm exhilarated to get my story out there, a part of me feels completely naked and vulnerable. This is my first book, so I don't know if that feeling ever goes away, but I hope that that insecurity doesn't affect the way I write in the future. I've been keeping Salinger's counsel in my mind, which is to say that I'm writing as if no one will read my work. It gives me the confidence and audacity to be honest and naked and vulnerable and all the qualities that make a book authentic.

MF: A lot of people get asked if their first novel is autobiographical. Since your novel about Asian women, I suppose this question is inevitable: did you get your ideas for the novel from your life or people you know?

CS: Of course! Whitney's story isn't exactly like mine. Neither are Hercules's or Audrey's. But I understand where they're coming from, the emotions and feelings they experience. I understand the pressure they put on themselves and the fears they have about disappointing their families or each other or themselves. And a lot of my friends understand the same things, which became a frequent topic of conversation. In fact, those conversations were in large part the impetus of Off the Menu. From a cultural stance, my being Korean (and in Texas, too) does give me another set of lenses with which to view my surroundings, another perspective that dovetails or diverges from those around me. At the same time, the issues in the book (and really, in life in general) are ultimately those that everyone can understand--the balance between the real world and the secret dreams we have, the desire to take care of or please our parents, the friendships that come with both support and increased (at least, perceived) expectation. So, to answer your question in very verbose way, Off the Menu was both a product of my own life and those of my friends, but I also think it's very accessible to everyone.

MF: I think so, too. Which makes me wonder: what do you think was more important in the process of telling this story: being a woman, or being a child of immigrants? Or do you think that they were both equally important?

CS: This is such a great question. The pressure of being a woman and of being a child of immigrants is so similar and so different. They both come with the notion that you have to try harder to succeed. Maybe it's not fair, but I've experienced it enough in the legal industry enough to know that I have to work harder, be better prepared, know my stuff better than the guy next to me if I want to move up. Plus, given that I look like a child, and an Asian one at that, it's even more important that I assert my authority from the outset if I want to be taken seriously. It's a process of perception, of dealing with the world as it sees me, whether shaped by looks or stereotypes or whatnot. Being a child of immigrants, by contrast, is a process of introspection, of dealing with the world as I see it. As I feel it. For sure, there are additional pressures to do right by my parents. What immigrant child hasn't heard her parents say that they moved to this country for her, even if it's not true? What second-generation kid hasn't heard her parents talk about the sacrifices they made to give her a better life? It's another notch on the belt of reasons why so many Asians strive to be doctors or lawyers or engineers, why so many of us feel more bound to traditional professions than to up the risk that we might disappoint our parents. At some point, though, I think we reach a place where we question what the definition of a "better life" really is, if it's the intrinsic joy of a myriad options or financial security. Satisfaction of fulfilled desire or material success. Certainly, this is a tension that children of immigrants share, but it's most definitely not unique to us.

MF: I like that you set the book in Texas; it's not something you expect from a book with Asian main characters. Do you think that there's anything inherent Southern about your book? Or are Asians in Texas somehow separate from your typical "Southern" culture?

CS: I don't know if there's anything inherently Southern about Off the Menu. For sure, there’s a unique flavor in Texas, and to a large extent, I think first-generation Asians are more insular and therefore less assimilative of idiosyncrasies in this state. Because there does tend to be more of a communal attitude (Asians sticking with other Asians), there’s less opportunity to absorb and adopt into one’s life the Texas or Southern culture here. I think second-generation Asians are much more in tune with Texas/Southern culture. I would certainly consider myself to be a Texan. As are the girls in the book.

MF: What do you hope readers will get out of your book?

CS: That it's never too late to reach out for what you want, no matter how small or big it is. It's your life, and you only get one shot. For me, it was so much worse to wonder what could have been with my writing than to have tried and failed miserably. The not-knowing is so much more tortuous and consuming and eventually, I find that it affects every aspect of my life. The book is uplifting, and while it focuses on each girl's conflict of the real world and the dream one, it's also about the friendship they share, the surprising encouragements and support they give each other. Yes, they're competitive and ambitious and aggressive and so on, but they're also each other's most ardent cheerleaders. Which I think is an invaluable comfort.

MF: What are your five favorite books of all time?

CS: So many to choose from! This list might change by the time the interview posts, but for now, I love, love, love: The Life of Pi by Yann Martel; Bel Canto by Ann Patchett; The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie, Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides and About a Boy by Nick Hornby.

MF: If you don't mind, what can we look for from you next?

CS: Well, I'm working on a new novel that focuses on two dysfunctional families who merge through a marriage of convenience. It's a bit of a mess right now, but it's essentially about blending haves and have-nots in an unconventional way. I'll definitely update as the story solidifies, though!

Thanks so much for your time, Christine!