Book Review: Foster by Claire Keegan

In FOSTER, a father drops off his daughter with distant relations for an indeterminate length of time; money is tight, children are many, and a new baby is on the way. This girl experiences a substitute family, an alternate way of living. John and Edna Kinsella, themselves childless, attempt to draw her into their daily routines, even as their own unspoken grief is at the edges.

Claire Keegan is masterful at working with language and finding a setting to match her aim, telling what feels on the surface like a sparsely written, straightforward story, but there is a richness to the novella, so that in these pages, almost without realizing, without notice, a deceptively simple story is found to be rich in heart. What does it mean to shepherd a child, to teach them and care for them? How do we find strength to be vulnerable, to connect with another? What does it look like to unconditionally love another?

The emotions are expansive and readers are broken open at the end. After the closing words, I took a deep breath and just sat in the moment, wishing I had someone nearby who'd also read it so we could discuss it.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: Lucy by the Sea

While literature can be an escape from current events, it can also be a vehicle to help process the world around us. To that end, Elizabeth Strout uses the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic to revisit the story of Lucy Barton and her ex-husband William in Lucy by the Sea. At William's urging, they leave New York City to shelter in Maine.

Lucy is the perfect character for Strout to place in such a situation; her naïveté, her second-guessing, her genuine feelings of confusion and frustration can mirror our own experiences of the transformative time. The fear, the unknowing, the concern, the drudgery, the safety, the annoyances and impatiences are revisited through fiction and it doesn't feel like a forced, unnatural setting for Lucy to find herself in. We can all relate when Lucy says, "This will end, I kept thinking. This will have to end. And every night it did not end, or indicate in any way that it would ever end."

Though the pandemic certainly directs some of the actions in the book, and George Floyd's death and the aftermath is also pulled in, Lucy is also caught up in finding ways to safely connect with neighbors, to support her daughters, to consider what is genuine, when it is worth taking risks.

While I first avoided this title, not sure if I was interested in reading already about the pandemic in fiction, I'm grateful I reconsidered. This was a beautiful framing, and there was something cathartic in seeing Lucy experience the muddled head, her inability to read, her grief and anxiety, to recognize those realities were true for me, too, once, but be grateful I'm no longer caught in that moment. It wasn't even three years ago, and I still have to pause when I realize how my daughters didn't set foot in a school building for an entire year. How did we do it?! I'm grateful for having been together and grateful to be on this side of an uncertain time. Lucy By the Sea is a notable, dare I even say welcome, account of an unsettling experience, to allow us to remember and mark the moment and take stock on what we lost, what we gained, what we learned.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: This Here Flesh

THIS HERE FLESH by Cole Arthur Reilly is a stunning achievement. Her words are a gift that, time and again, wrecked me in the most beautiful ways.

The fifteen chapters are framed around insights on dignity, place, belonging, fear, lament, liberation, and more. Arthur Reilly's vulnerability in sharing insights gained from physical limitations, from being a Black woman of faith, and her transparency when discussing her Gramma and her father, lead to deep reflections. 

Time and again, I found myself near tears, or openly crying (not a familiar response). As I reflected on this reaction, occurring across different days and weeks, I think it's due to how refreshing such honesty is, how welcoming to read the hope, to have her name truths. The phrase "defiant rootedness," for example, so perfectly captures the idea of perseverance and hope in spite of all, the insistence of one's worth and determination to remain. 

Some books you meet at the right moment, and at a time when I've been more introspective and reflective, this has been a perfect companion, a welcome balm when things have felt fragile and uncertain in the world. 

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)    

Book Review: Cloud Cuckoo Land

The framework of Doerr's newest opus is a newly discovered work by Diogenes, a story called "Cloud Cuckoo Land." The account shows Aethon's transformations as he seeks utopia but encounters struggle after struggle.

The setup alternates from a siege in 1450s Constantinople, a tense scene in present-day Idaho, and a futuristic ship bound for a new land. Each learns of Aethon's story, and their journeys mirror stories of perseverance, even when discouraged or hopeless, as they find purpose and reason and connection through language, through stories, through books. This is a beautiful epic that doesn't turn away from legitimate concerns like climate change, war, identity, and acceptance, but even in these realistic treatments, offers hope, a way forward.

Doerr dedicates this work to the librarians across time, and Cloud Cuckoo Land is a fitting tribute to the role librarians play in societies. The interconnected stories represent the ties we have to each other, even if they can be tenuous and lost in a moment. But there is hope that, things thought lost forever, might just be hidden for a time.

Doerr asks us to reflect on what it is that binds us, what motivates us. How we can be contributing to the problem, but that we also are necessary, a part of the solution. How a timeless tale continues to deliver purpose and insight and offers new relevance.

This scope was dazzling. An author takes a risk at portraying such diverse characters in varied times and places, as the true test is where readers find their allegiances, whether they are unmoved by characters that feel like diversions taking away from the true storyline. I was highly invested in each character, so while I mourned the pause in one's storyline, once I turned the page I also delighted in getting to pick up the threads of another as Doerr cast a vision for what we each seek and long for.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: No Cure for Being Human

After a diagnosis of stage 4 cancer, Kate Bowler reflects on what it means to live with uncertainty, when her length of life was no longer assured. She examines questions of whether it's possible to be content when one's days are numbered, and how that feeling of finitude, of having all things in perspective, is fleeting. When she discusses the birthday script she and her son act out, it nearly brings me to tears, and she is willing to let us in on her intimate conversations with her family, with her close friends, and with her medical professionals, even when it isn't always flattering.

These insights, while gained through a diagnosis not all will face, have a feeling of universality. What is the purpose of our professional selves when our final days are upon us, for instance? She wrestled with whether or not to work on her academic book, knowing it would take time from her family when that itself was uncertain (a colleague wisely said, "If the worst happens and this book is the last thing you ever do, Zach can still find you there").

Bowler writes with heart and with vulnerability, sharing her thoughts and words from that immediate time as well as how the pandemic impacted everything after: "The truth of the pandemic is the truth of all suffering: that it is unjustly distributed."

Through my own experiences, I have wondered how to come to terms that certain tragedies have so viscerally impacted and changed me, that while I hate that they happened, I just couldn't quite get to the point to wish them away because of how they transformed me. Bowler also has that epiphany: "...we fully agree that we stumbled into the heart of a mystery -- that there were moments of suffering that felt unmistakably like gifts."

Even with a serious subject matter, Bowler's humor is present; this book exudes hope and joy and it was a gift to read.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: Somebody's Daughter

Ashley Ford's memoir Somebody's Daughter is a tour de force as she reckons with the complicated realities of life and the nuance found in relationships.

There is her incarcerated father, one whom she loves unconditionally and yet later has to come to terms with the crimes that led to his imprisonment; a mother who provides but struggles to show affection and support, and an early relationship that left her vulnerable.

While not everyone may have firsthand experience of the accounts Ford vividly relays, she writes in such a way that I couldn't help drawing parallels to my own family. Themes of separation, hardship, and yet finding hope and perseverance shine through the pages. One can't help but be heartbroken when Ford is wronged by the teacher, for instance, or cheer when she finds acceptance and success. Somebody's Daughter is relatable for its transparency and the truth within the pages, as Ford succinctly shares a nugget like, "Kids can always tell the difference between adults who want to empower them and adults who want to overpower them."

The audiobook, read by the author, is expertly done. We fully understand that "moving forward required going back," and we are grateful that Ford was willing to share her journey with us.

Somebody's Daughter releases June 1.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)   

Book Review: The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry

The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer is a rich guide, filled with personality and humor. Instead of feeling like Comer is condemning me for not being there yet, it read as an encouragement, an invitation to join him in these practices, as Comer once was stretched and stressed and overwhelmed and has now found a welcome balance.

Whether influenced by my time of life or the pandemic, this book resonated with me. Comer offers recommendations for how to resist the culture's pull for more, for busyness. Through discussing four practices (silence and solitude; sabbath; simplicity; slowing), Comer offers a rich read that had me marking up the pages. Practical suggestions that challenge and convict me had me pausing and reflecting.

One intentional act I instituted recently was to give up showers as much as possible, replacing them with bathing. I draw a piping hot bath, disconnect from doom scrolling, temporarily withdraw from my family, and take a book or magazine with me. I have determined this is a valuable, worthy indulgence, meaningful for my mental health. With the summer ahead, I have intentionally orchestrated a light work schedule, so as to allow wide swaths of time that have not yet been earmarked. I see value in the opportunity to slow down, to be more present in the moment, to delight in time outdoors. While I didn't necessarily take those steps as a direct correlation to this book, this book helps provide support for the pause, for the quieting from the daily rush, for allowing me to acknowledge how this has been a taxing season and how such a practice, of living an unhurried life, can reap dividends. I highly recommend this book for those who are feeling like it's all too much and are seeking ways to be revived and restored.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: A Burning in My Bones

My earliest introduction to Eugene Peterson was through references to The Message. Admittedly, my initial impressions were mixed; I was both intrigued by the project, but I also absorbed potentially dismissive opinions of the translation. However, I couldn't remain aloof, as friends I respected and admired spoke to the ways The Message caused them to approach the Bible with a new ear, hearing familiar words in a way that challenged and awoke them to see the words as fresh and new, revelatory and radical. I couldn't discredit the impact it was having.

Over the years, I learned more snippets about this man that intrigued me, so when I learned of the forthcoming book A Burning in My Bones, a biography of Eugene Peterson by Winn Collier (another author I admire), I couldn't resist learning more.

Eugene was influenced by nature, by the strong faith of his mother, by the vibrancy of his father's butcher shop. Collier thoroughly and deftly relays the transitions in Peterson's life, from his initial aspirations to teach to what led him to become a pastor, and his writing throughout. 

Collier frankly addresses Peterson's relationship with his father, the strained seasons of his own parenting journey, the hardships of being a pastor, and times he and Jan struggled in their marriage. All serve to create a picture of a flawed but earnest individual, one who worked to be faithful and who intentionally strived to avoid the pitfalls that he saw from others who chased celebrity.

Just as we see lessons in the examples of individuals who have sought the pedestal and have spectacularly failed, so too we can find truths to be gained in Peterson's life. His practice of seeking silence, of being known and accessible to so many, of shirking elitism and preferring the quiet, of modeling a humble, generous, hospitable life can all cause us to reflect on what the life of a modern-day saint can look like. We see steadfast practices, of how our faith and our lives are naturally intertwined.

There is also humor to be found within these pages; I took special enjoyment in reading about the license Peterson took in drafting his monthly reports about his new church, first suspecting and then confirming that nothing beyond the first page was ever reviewed. And it should be no surprise to read about the various authors and poets who impacted Peterson.

Winn Collier first approached Peterson as a fellow pastor seeking advice, and this evolved to become a friendship. Collier was given widespread access to write this extensive biography of Eugene Peterson. His admiration is clear, but he conveys Peterson's whole person, touching on moments in his life where Peterson struggled and had regrets as well as pointing to the notable impacts. The volume is replete with extracts from journals and letters and it inspires me all the more to become more familiar with Peterson's books.

Collier's biography is a gift, and readers will be moved by the humble life of Eugene Peterson.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)     

Book Review: Anxious People

Fredrik Backman, the Swedish author that has gained a devoted following worldwide, again delivers with his newest title, Anxious People. Backman is an astute observer of human nature, delving into motivations and fashioning complex characters that one can't help but find connection.

Take an open house, work in a bank robbery, a therapist's office, and an investigation, and see it all play out. As Backman weaved the various storylines together and revealed relationships and connections, at first I felt it was too tidy, that this would be the title of his that fell flat with me. As the story developed, though, the themes of parenthood, failure, and second chances brought me to tears (and I'm a hardened cynic, rarely becoming emotional enough to cry from a text). 

Backman will sometimes switch to a second person point-of-view for asides. That feature can backfire, which is why it's so infrequently used, but Backman employs it to masterfully create intimacy. 

Backman has captivated readers through stories like A Man Called Ove and Beartown, and Anxious People is no exception. I entered with minimal expectations, fearful he wouldn't be able to again captivate me and deliver yet another masterful story, but I need not have doubted. Backman is a gifted storyteller. I can retreat into his words and trust him to craft a story that will stick with me. Backman sees the heartache and the beauty that exist in tandem, in spite of -- or perhaps because of -- each other. And Backman has found a way to capture the realities around us, the power of finding hope and light in the midst of sadness and darkness. 

 (I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: The Myth of the American Dream

D.L. Mayfield, author of the recent release The Myth of the American Dream, has a story that resonates with me and mirrors some of my own evolution in this area; to that end, I had some hesitance when I approached her book. Would I find it simply a rehashing of my own thoughts? That presumptuous attitude of mine was, thankfully, short-lived. I found this book a relevant, meaningful contribution to current dialogues.

Mayfield shows how our behaviors can evolve from being the generous benefactors to truly being in relationship with another. I recall how a church's vision for missions and outreach can often be in this uneven relationship, how the church is the one to give and the chosen countries/neighborhoods/schools are the ones to receive, an uneven balance that leaves most unchanged beyond the short term. I can feel self-aware as I reflect back on my own involvement in such ventures. How do we live out our faith in relevant ways, to admit areas we have come short, to push for improvement?

Mayfield has a friend who asks the question: "Who pays for our myths?" As she navigated what it means to acknowledge the privilege we have, as we reflect on what it would look like for justice to take place, for shalom to happen, we are changed. We may make sacrifices when we come alongside another, we may forego other's versions of safety or success, but we gain a truer understanding of what the world is, and what it could become.

The best compliment I can pay is that it felt like a conversation I have had with my friends, as we continue learning, continue being made aware of our assumptions and letting new information change us and urge us to act and to speak and to advocate for others so as to better live out our faith and our love for neighbor in the truest, most genuine sense.

(I received a digital ARC from InterVarsity Press via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: Mobituaries

I have long been a fan of Mo Rocca, primarily through his humor and intelligence as displayed on NPR's Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me radio program, but I was previously unaware that he had a podcast and show highlighting "Mobituaries" for individuals or entities that deserve acknowledgement for their achievements that have been forgotten or unknown.

The topics addressed in his book Mobituaries: Great Lives Worth Reliving might delve into what the forgotten country of Prussia was, facts about what led to the retirement of corsets, the changes of black representation in Congress after the Civil War, people famous for more than one thing, and presidents who did more either before or after their presidencies than while in office.

A majority of the names covered in this book may already be known to you, but the shared stories contain many new nuggets of fascinating information. Mobituaries is a perfect book for fans of Bill Bryson, who appreciate detailed historical insights with a side of humor.

(I received a digital ARC from Simon & Schuster via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: Beverly, Right Here

Kate DiCamillo primarily writes standalone stories, but Beverly, Right Here is the conclusion of her first trilogy. Raymie Nightingale was the first in this series, where we meet three friends: Raymie, Louisiana, and Beverly. Louisiana's Way Home came next, and this is the conclusion.

14-year-old Beverly struggles in her home, so after she buries her beloved dog, she spontaneously leaves town. She finds herself living with an older woman in a trailer home, finding a job at a fish diner, and connecting with locals.

Through these experiences, Beverly opens herself up to new friendships while mourning losses in her life. We witness her coming into her own, finding inner strength, and recognizing beauty around her.

Kate DiCamillo has a way of writing that feels natural, raw, and beautiful. She conveys truths simply but powerfully.  Beverly, Right Here, along with the other books in the series, feel as if they're geared towards older children. They're not as lighthearted as her earlier works, but they are important and can pull out your emotions as they speak to truths of the importance of having dreams and finding friends who are your chosen family.

  (I received a digital ARC from NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: Olive, Again

Olive, Again is Elizabeth Strout's follow-up to the successful Olive Kitteridge and follows the similar format of threaded short stories.

Strout conveys such engaging (and at times repulsive) portrayals of her characters, revealing to us flawed and broken individuals that felt real enough to me that I couldn't help but have visceral reactions to them and their choices. From Suzanne, caught between her past and her future, struggling with the realities of who her parents truly were, to Olive, as she wanted to welcome her son and his family into her home but bungled the experience, I still found ways to have compassion for them and be invested in their lives.

The stories focus on Olive's later years, including family dynamics, marriages, and friendships, and they also address what it is to live a life well, wrestling with how others perceive us and ways we've failed others, and coming to terms with loneliness and what it is to love.

(I received a digital ARC from Random House Publishing Group via NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion.)

Book Review: This Tender Land

I discovered William Kent Krueger through a series of fortuitous events, culminating in Krueger's appearance at my city's annual book and author festival this past spring, where he completely charmed me and my companions. I've since begun working my way through his canon.

This Tender Land is a companion novel to Ordinary Grace, insofar that it takes place in southern Minnesota, but it is in a different time period and has different characters than his breakout success Ordinary Grace, so they can be standalone reads.

Krueger begins this narrative at an Indian boarding school, using historical details to convey the abuse and neglect that was prevalent. The story centers around Odie, his older brother Albert, and two friends they make through the school. The four of them are orphans and, in the early days of the Depression, they strike out on their own, taking to the river, believing the unknown difficulties ahead of them are preferred to the dangers of the life they're leaving behind.

As this modern-day Huck Finn story is revealed, as we grow invested in each individual, themes of family, sacrifice, faith, and love emerge. It's a beautiful account of facing difficulties and misunderstandings, and ultimately, finding hope and redemption.

I have no doubt This Tender Land will make as much an impact on the literary world as Ordinary Grace did, if not even exceed its impact.

(I received a digital ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: Flee, Be Silent, Pray

In the preface of Flee, Be Silent, Pray, Ed Cyzewski lays out how he found himself returning to aspects of the Catholic faith he'd initially tried to distance himself from after recognizing one notable weakness of evangelicalism was how it can lead one to feel full of guilt and anxiety about not doing or being enough: "Long story short: although I was now a committed Protestant, I had to return to my Catholic roots to learn how to pray."

Although our childhood experiences were different, I found myself resonating with how our journeys overlapped. Authors he quotes have been ones I've been drawn to as of late, such as Phyllis Tickle, Henri Nouwen, Thomas Merton, and Richard Rohr, and the title comes from a Nouwen quotation, which Cyzewski elaborates on:

"Flee, be silent, pray: all work together as one intentional movement toward God. The pursuit of God in silent, contemplative prayer is the exact opposite of anxious striving, studying, and cultural crusading. Contemplative prayer is the only cure I know for our holy anxiety and perceived alienation from God, because it places all our faith in the love and mercy of God."

Flee, Be Silent, Pray addresses various practices, such as lectio divina, the Examen, and centering prayer, and each chapter concludes with "Practicing the Practice" to offer immediate, practical application.

A younger version of myself, who used to find liturgies and written prayers rote and lacking in emotion may have been surprised to see how I am now drawn to following structured prayers. When I use The Divine Hours, I am regularly impacted by the experience of the closing prayer in the Compline, finding new emotions as I reflect on these words, with different sections standing out to me depending on who or what is heavy on my heart, and I was not surprised to read Cyzewski has had similar experiences:

"Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous, and all for your love's sake. Amen."

Perhaps the book could have been more succinct, but that's coming from someone who doesn't need to be convinced of the value and practice of contemplative prayer; others interested in contemplative prayers will find this a useful primer.

(I received a digital ARC from Herald Press via NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: The Ministry of Ordinary Places

As a white woman in the Midwest, I've lived a relatively privileged life. This is not to say there hasn't been hardship, as my family has struggled firsthand with suicide, mental illness, and the loss of a child. And yet, we have a certain amount of stability now. We have two delightful children. My husband and I both have college degrees and are gainfully employed. Life is comfortable. However, as a woman of faith, I see how Jesus lived his life. He sought out those who were marginalized, he upended everyone's expectations as to who mattered, granting value and dignity to all. He was present to those who were struggling, welcoming them to himself. How do I reconcile these disparate examples? Is giving generously enough to free us from other obligations? And when we admit that it isn't, what other steps should be taken?

The Ministry of Ordinary Places: Waking Up to God's Goodness Around You by Shannan Martin was a powerful, beautifully written call to challenge us in our comfort, to urge us to do the big, hard everyday work around us, to be vulnerable, transparent, and generous. Martin writes of the comfortable life she and her husband had, then the growing conviction that that wasn't enough.

They moved to a different neighborhood and her husband became the chaplain at the prison; slowly they opened their home and their lives. Martin is quick to mention how this is not an example of them being noble, reaching out to those less than; instead, she admits how she is rocked by getting out of her echo chamber and learning what it is to be authentic, to be intentional, to be hospitable, to connect.

Martin frankly shares how her perspective steadily changed, and she doesn't shirk away from detailing the difficult relationships or the continued work taking place in herself and in her family. I found it a poignant, transparent reflection on how one can take steps to be less closed off and more vulnerable and I will be continuing to process this book.

I'm going to close with an excerpt from her introduction, a rallying cry to all of us:

"As Christ-followers, we are called to be long-haul neighbors committed to authenticity and willing to take some risks. Our vocation is to invest deeply in the lives of those around us, devoted to one another, physically close to each other as we breathe the same air and walk the same blocks. Our purpose is not so mysterious after all. We get to love and be deeply loved right where we're planted, by whomever happens to be near. We will inevitably encounter brokenness we cannot fix, solve, or understand, and we'll feel as small, uncertain, and outpaced as we have ever felt. But we'll find our very lives in this calling, to be among people as Jesus was, and it will change everything."

(I received a digital ARC from Nelson Books via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: The Art of Visual Notetaking

When I take notes, it's a wall of text; periodically, I'll see pictures shared of others who create this visually appealing record of a meeting, filled with images that complement the text. We have the same information, but mine is harder to navigate.

Enter the new book The Art of Visual Notetaking. In it, Emily Mills shares her insights in how to gain the ability to take visual notes. She stresses the purpose of visual notetaking is to present information in a way that encourages retention.

Mills sprinkles the text with regular illustrations to convey points. She recognizes most might feel intimidated by their lack of drawing ability, so she offers drawing advice and exercises. Every step of the process is covered, from possible layouts to selection of writing utensils to steps that can be done in advance and how and when to add color and depth. There are even suggestions for individuals who may want to take visual notes professionally, as she does.

In addition to giving exercises to practice the various techniques of visual note taking, Mills also offers practical suggestions for getting experience in a low-pressure environment, including taking written notes from a previous conference or talk and converting them to incorporate visuals, as well as watching a youtube video like a Ted talk to allow opportunities to create content as it's being delivered.

I went from thinking I could never be able to take visual notes to finding scenarios in which I want to attempt it, based on the guidance Mills offers. For instance, I imagine playing around with visual notes when it comes to my reading log - cataloging highlights of a book with a notable quote or two, author or genre information, and my impressions. For those who bullet journal, I imagine these concepts would translate well to travel or journal spreads.

This practical book is a useful resource to those who are inexperienced but motivated to learn the skill of visual notetaking.

(I received a digital ARC from Quarto Publishing Group via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: The Printed Letter Bookshop

Katherine Reay's books all have a love of literature present, whether she is writing a new take on a classic or whether, as in The Printed Letter Bookshop, a bookstore is front and center and quotations are offered or titles are mentioned or alluded to.

The narrative fluctuates among three women who are lost and overwhelmed in the world, whether they realize it or not -- there's Madeleine, the high achieving young woman striving to become the next partner in her law firm; Janet, the divorced mom whose grown son sided with the father and keeps his distance from her; and Claire, the mom whose husband is often out of state for work and who is disconnected from her children, who opt for friends' homes over their distant mother.

The Printed Letter Bookshop is what brings these women together; it is a beloved location, but when Maddie, the newly deceased owner, fought sickness, the bookstore struggled, to the point where its continued presence in the community is in doubt.

At the center, our three protagonists have been given a book list from Maddie, each a curated list of titles that, when read, have a common theme demonstrating a way each woman can enhance and improve her life; "Maddie's books provided a trail, like breadcrumbs, leading me to who I want to be or maybe back to who I once set out to be..." Slowly, each character takes steps to change their lives for the better.

I have found Reay's work to be uneven - for example, I adored Dear Mr Knightley but found A Portrait of Emily Price lackluster. However, I was pleased with this title; it was a read that was a pleasant, light-hearted accompaniment for the close of this school year.

(I received a complimentary copy of this book from Thomas Nelson through NetGalley. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: Smash Poetry Journal

When I was teaching seventh grade English, most class days began with five minutes of writing. Students always had the option to write on a topic of their own choosing, but most preferred working with a prompt. I would brainstorm topics and then write them down so they could be used for other classes down the road. I was constantly looking for resources to save me time of drafting new topics every day.

I recently reviewed another volume of writing prompts -- geared towards fiction -- and was sorely disappointed in the quality of the text. So when I approached Smash Poetry Journal, I went in hoping for a successful execution but being level-headed after my recent disappointment. Author Robert Lee Brewer began a poetry blog in 2008; he began posting daily poetry prompts in hopes readers would share their poems to create interaction and accountability. This book grew from his practice of providing those prompts. I shouldn't have been anxious -- this book is excellent.

Poetry writing came more naturally to my mother and a couple of my siblings; when I sit down to do it, I enjoy the exercise, but it's not as fluid for me, and I don't have ideas bursting forth without concerted effort. I need to get alone and give myself time to think. Ideally, I've been steeping myself in poetry. Only then can I create an environment to write poetry, if I have inspiration.

As I was reading this book, I flagged the prompts that I wanted to return to in order to try my hand at some poetry again. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I bookmarked an astonishing 70 of the 125 prompts (I've bought knitting books for only one or two patterns in the entire volume before, so finding so much to employ in an idea book like this is no small accomplishment). These are written in ways that get my creative juices flowing and my fingers itching to write and I anticipate spending a quiet lunch hour seeing what I create.

I highly recommend Smash Poetry Journal. This book is a strong addition for a teacher who wants to foster a poetry-writing environment in her classroom, or for the average individual -- like me -- who enjoys creating poetry but sometimes gets hung up on generating a topic or theme.

(I received a digital ARC from F+W Media via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)

Book Review: The Little Book of Rock Painting

I have several creative friends in my life, and as an excuse to gather us together, I scheduled a rock painting night. Had I ever done so before? Nope. But it seemed a perfect activity to relax us while we socialized and decompressed at what is a busy time of year for all of us.

I was searching websites for advice, and only after I'd picked up some rocks and some oil-based paint pens did I stumble upon The Little Book of Rock Painting. I couldn't resist looking into this title to learn about basics of rock painting. This book focuses more on using acrylic paints, but as I already had paint pens on hand, I was most interested in the delightful tutorials that were offered.

I am in awe of what this book allowed me to create. I was intimidated at the skill level of some of the projects, but I boldly jumped in and, due to the clear instructions and pictures, I was able to follow along and end up with beautiful rock art.

Here is a photo of my creations. I heartily recommend this book to offer basics on how to begin, but especially for the quality of the instructions, tutorials, and templates. I enjoy creative ventures but don't feel that I have innate drawing ability; however, this book taught me how to make it look like I am more skilled than I am! The spectrum of complexity is also welcome - I suspect my eight-year-old daughter, who is adept at art, could tackle the more detailed projects, whereas my five-year-old daughter would stick with some of the more basic ideas.

(I received a digital ARC from Quarto Publishing Group via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.I've used Amazon Affiliate links here; should you purchase through these links, I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you.)