By definition, a wallflower is someone who yearns to stay out of focus and is content with experiencing the world from a vantage point far removed from social commotion. Wallflowers are typically observant people who possess the uncanny ability to find beauty in unique places. Eliza Robertson's debut collection Wallflowers places a series of introverted characters in situations with the potential to reveal more than their individual livelihoods.
Unified by central themes of longing and loss, Robertson's characters all wish for a way to forget the past or escape the present. In "Here Be Dragons," a geographic surveyor sees shades of his late fiancée in every corner of the remote locations he visits. She haunts him not in the convenient visages of doppelgängers, but in the complicated forms of reverie associated with people, places, things and experiences amidst savage and newly loveless lands. "Slimebank Taxonomy" thrusts readers into the empty life of a young mother living with her brother and his family. Her sister-in-law does not shoulder the added burden gracefully as she diverts attention from her own child to care for the new baby. The young mother realizes this, yet remains powerless to rear her newborn; instead, she finds solace in dredging drowned animals from a nearby swamp and cleaning their bodies. "Roadnotes" tells the story of a woman who leaves her job to drive through the Northeast on an autumnal leaf-viewing tour. Conveyed in the form of a series of letters addressed to her brother, readers see glimpses into her true motivations for her journey as she laments the loss of her mother, despite her rough childhood.
Robertson's debut collection shimmers with beauty enhanced by flecks of melancholy, with hints of hope where it seems toughest to find. With stories less about the wallflowers that populate them and more about the collective souls of humanity, Wallflowers is not to be missed by literary fiction enthusiasts. Fans of the rustic Canadian backdrop and the accompanying aloneness might also enjoy D. W. Wilson's collection Once You Break a Knuckle.
In 1992, 24-year-old Chris McCandless gave away his savings and most of his worldly possessions and embarked on his dream trip, a quest in the Alaskan wilderness. His adventure ended in his tragic death in an abandoned bus just off the Stampede Trail near Denali National Park. Chris’ story was the subject of Jon Krakauer’s bestselling nonfiction book Into the Wild in 1996, and it was later made into a film directed by Sean Penn. Krakauer’s book focused mainly on Chris’ journey and the end of his life, but it left many questions about his past and his motivations unanswered, leading to many widely held misconceptions about Chris.
Because of the popularity of Into the Wild, people think that they know Chris’ story, but there’s much more than meets the eye. While Krakauer was researching his book, Chris’ sister Carine McCandless shared more about her family and Chris’ childhood with him, even allowing Krakauer to read some of her brother’s letters relating his feelings about unpleasant details of life in the McCandless home. To protect her parents and half siblings, Carine asked Krakauer not to include the letters in his book. Now, Carine McCandless is revealing those details in The Wild Truth, a book she hopes will allow readers to view her brother’s life and actions through a more accurate lens.
Above all things, Chris McCandless valued truth, and Carine’s raw and honest account of their family life builds a much clearer picture of what drove Chris to take his journey. This unforgettable story is my favorite new nonfiction book this fall. The Wild Truth is not just for fans of Into the Wild. It’s also a must-read for readers who are drawn to family memoirs.
We are delighted that Carine McCandless will speak about her book and her brother’s legacy at the Arbutus Branch on Saturday, December 6 at 2 p.m. Readers can hear directly from Carine and have the opportunity to ask her questions about The Wild Truth. Find out more information about this event.
Imogen Robertson invites readers on a journey to Paris, 1909, the height of La Belle Epoque, where the alluring excess of the era comes to vivid life in The Paris Winter. Robertson introduces readers to three fiercely independent young women whose friendship is built on a common love of art, but who are quickly ensnared in a sinister plot.
For Maud, a destitute art student at the Académie Lafond, life is anything but decadent. Her inheritance only covers rent and tuition, leaving her no choice but to go hungry. School friends Yvette and Tanya quickly notice their proud friend’s state and secretly intervene to get her a job as a companion to wealthy Christian Morel’s sickly sister Sylvie. Maud can hardly believe her fortune as the position includes a warm, clean room and plenty of hot meals. The security of her employment also allows her to focus her energy on her art. But all is not well in the House of Morel as the private lives of the siblings are vastly different from their public personae. Sylvie is hiding an opium addiction and Christian’s aura of intrigue feels threatening.
Maud embraces their secrets as her own, but before long finds herself embroiled in sinister plots which take her and her friends from the gritty underbelly of Paris to the haunts of the upper class. The three young women grow as they work together to uncover the truth amidst so much deception. Robertson’s characters are memorable and her colorful, detailed descriptions serve to create a strong sense of place and time. Art lovers, history buffs and armchair sleuths won’t be able to put this thriller down.
In Jane Smiley's Some Luck, on a farm in Denby, Iowa, Rosanna and Walter Langdon begin their married lives in 1920 in the time-honored tradition of past generations. Walter ponders fertile fields and chooses good bottom land for his farm. Rosanna becomes the consummate farmer’s wife and produces five children, all with vastly different personalities: Frank, brilliant but fiercely independent; Joe, whose gentle spirit and love of the land make him the heir apparent to the farm; Lillian, the beautiful but innocent angel; Mary Elizabeth, destined to fate; Clare, her father’s favorite; and Henry, always thirsting for knowledge.
Spanning three generations, covering the coming of age of America, Some Luck is the latest offering from Pulitzer Prize-winning author Smiley. Smiley deftly weaves historical events throughout her narrative, painting a portrait of one family as it endures the Great Depression, drought, social unrest and burgeoning communism, through World War II and its aftermath. With a sure hand, Smiley portrays each of these events as they affect farmers and laborers, town and city, America and the world. Whether on the farm or in a war, everyone must endure the hardship and the vagaries of life and fate. As Grandma observes, “But what would we do without some luck?” Smiley also subtly reminds us of the importance of family and friends, as they support each other through trying times and happy moments. As Walter and Rosanna survey their family at a Thanksgiving feast, they realize all they have achieved and conquered and that, by forming this family, they have created 23 unique stories that will resonate through succeeding generations.
Some Luck is the first installment in a trilogy. Once you have laughed and cried and shared all their stories, you will be anxiously awaiting the next installment.
This year marks three important anniversaries for everyone’s favorite reindeer. In 1939, advertising copywriter Robert L. May wrote Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer at the request of Chicago’s Montgomery Ward department store. The retailer wanted to use the story in a promotional booklet for its customers. That year, Montgomery Ward distributed over 2 million copies of the booklet featuring the story of Rudolph. A new 75th anniversary edition of May’s original rhyming story was just published with beautiful new illustrations by Antonio Javier Caparo. This oversized book’s rich illustrations make it a great way to share this version of Rudolph’s story.
Ten years later, May’s brother-in-law Johnny Marks adapted the story into the unforgettable song, and Gene Autry's recording topped the charts in December 1949. From there, Rudolph’s popularity skyrocketed. Then, on December 6, 1964, a new Christmas tradition was born. That night, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer first aired on NBC. The stop motion animation TV special narrated by Burl Ives now airs on CBS each year, and watching it has become an annual tradition for many families.
To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the animated TV special, two new books have been released featuring its familiar plot. Thea Feldman’s retelling of the story combined with Erwin Madrid’s illustrations, which are very similar to the TV special’s art, make Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: The Classic Story a sure bet for die-hard Rudolph fans. Families with younger children may prefer Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Special Edition Pop-up Book. This shorter version of the story with large-scale pop-ups using movie stills to capture memorable scenes from the TV special will become a family favorite.
Ask parents to share their deepest fear and, inevitably, it involves something tragic happening to their child. In Diogo Mainardi’s The Fall: A Father’s Memoir in 424 Steps, Mainardi writes about the intersection of grandeur and error which led to his son’s disabling cerebral palsy. On Immunity: An Inoculation by Eula Biss examines modern medicine’s sometimes controversial practice of vaccination.
424. That’s the number of footsteps taken by Tito Mainardi as he and his father walk to Venice Hospital where he was born, and where physician error resulted in his brain injury. It’s also the number of brief passages that make up this small memoir in which Mainardi finds connections between art, architecture, music and history, and relates them back to Tito and his illness. Profoundly moving and structured by concentric links, The Fall demonstrates that tragedy and beauty may not be such a dichotomy after all.
Red-faced and screaming or silently stoic: either way, it can be tough as a parent to put a child through the often painful series of recommended inoculations. Even more difficult would be wondering if your child’s autism was triggered by a vaccine or passing on those shots only to see a child hospitalized with whooping cough. Biss looks at the varied reasons behind a parent’s decision to decline immunizations, which include African and Middle Eastern Muslim fears of a western plot to harm their children via the polio vaccine to American concerns about greedy pharmaceutical companies or political agendas pushing unnecessary and invasive medicine — all of which compromise the “herd immunity” protecting communities from disease outbreak. On Immunity provides a thoughtful view on the impact of vaccines on contemporary public health.
War hero and Olympian Louis Zamperini died last July at the age of 97, but was able to finish Don’t Give Up, Don’t Give In: Lessons from an Extraordinary Life with co-author David Rensin. This inspirational volume is filled with Zamperini’s wisdom and insight garnered from a long life of remarkable experiences.
Zamperini was an American World War II prisoner of war survivor, an Olympic distance runner and, in his later years, a popular, inspirational speaker. His remarkable life has absorbed readers in both his autobiography, Devil at My Heels and Laura Hillenbrand’s bestselling Unbroken. Don’t Give Up, Don’t Give In is not a rehash of prior books. Instead readers learn more about the man, his personality and his will to endure from previously untold stories. Faced with one horrific event after another, including a plane crash and a brutal Japanese prisoner of war camp, Zamperini refused to give up and chose to view hardships as challenges. After the war, the adventures continued and even included a showdown with Frank Sinatra! Zamperini is honest in answering the questions he received repeatedly from fans and in revealing his secrets to living an honorable but exciting faith-based life.
Zamperini’s incredible life story will be brought to the big screen next month with Angelina Jolie’s adaptation of Unbroken. Watch the trailer of this film, already generating award buzz, written by the Coen brothers and featuring Jack O’Donnell.
We asked our bloggers to tell us about the books for which they are most thankful. Here's what they said:
I am thankful for Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie. I discovered this book in high school and it introduced me to Christie's obsessive detective Hercule Poirot and his little grey cells. It turned me into a lifelong Christie fan, and I reread her novels to this day – even when I know the ending.
The book I am thankful for is Persuasion by Jane Austen. The heroine of this novel, Anne Elliot, finds happiness with her true love after overcoming quite a few obstacles on the way. This story taught me to never give up, to believe in myself and not to be easily persuaded by other people.
Years ago, my friend Andrea and I started a book club. The first book we read was roundly disliked and we worried that none of our friends would return. And so I am thankful for the second book we read, Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer. Our club loved it and 14 years later, we are still going strong.
I'm thankful for the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich. Anytime I need a nice light read I reach for one of these books and, because I've read them all, it doesn't matter which one I grab. They are perfect for vacations or just a quick pick-me-up.
Some people have comfort food; I have comfort books. When I’m really stressed, I love to reread Julie Garwood’s historical romances, especially The Bride. It’s soothing to lose myself in Jamie and Alec’s familiar story, and the best part is that a happily ever after is guaranteed!
Ellen Raskin’s The Westing Game is the book that made me a lifelong reader, and for that I am eternally grateful. It is the first book I can remember not wanting to end and the first book that I immediately re-read. I still turn to it to today, and it always brings back the memory and magic of falling in love with reading.
I am thankful for The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. It's smart, funny and fast, but what really makes me thankful it exists is knowing that it's going to inspire a new generation of readers, historians and archeologists.
I am thankful for The Architecture of Happiness, written by Alan De Botton and narrated by Simon Vance. At the time I read — or rather, heard — it, I was working in a white-walled basement, lit by florescent overheads and conspicuously lacking in windows. While not the most likely structure to inspire happiness, my surroundings acted as the perfect blank foil against which to explore De Botton’s meandering philosophy of the relationship between architecture and contentment. What makes a place special? What makes us feel at home in a place we’ve never before visited? What indelible impressions might we leave in a place where we have dwelt for many years? De Botton first raised these questions for me in that basement and I have been discovering the answers, bit by bit, ever since.
I’m thankful for Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake because it was my first leap into literary fiction. I remember shelving it over and over again at the Towson Branch back in 2010, and eventually I decided to read it myself because the cake on the cover looked so appetizing. I was slow and careful in my approach (as I would be with cake, so I could savor every bite) but I ended up devouring the book in a week — which is really fast for me — and talking about it with one of my favorite librarians. Bender has a knack for weaving the perfect touch of fairytale magic into her ebullient, wispy and enchanting prose, which makes every one of her stories a wondrous read.
Of all the hundreds of books I’ve read over the years, I’m most grateful for Carolyn Keene’s Nancy Drew series. Every week, as soon as I got my allowance, we went straight to bookstore so I could purchase the next book in the series. Nancy instilled a life-long love of reading, and a particular passion for mystery.
I’m thankful for Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. I first read Pride and Prejudice in high school. I’ve reread it countless times since, and it gets better each time!
I’m thankful that E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web was around when I was a kid. I can remember being in bed and leaning against the wall, worried that Wilbur would die but so glad he had Fern and Charlotte on his side. It’s a magical journey about friendship and the passage of time.
The book I’m thankful for is Dominion by Matthew Scully. Prior to reading it I had a general, superficial understanding of animal welfare concepts. But Scully’s even-handed explanations of the philosophical and moral responsibilities humans have for animals opened my eyes to this critical issue of our time.
Amy Poehler wants you to know that writing a book is very, very hard to do. She handles the pressure well in her memoir, Yes Please.
Delving into her deep-rooted love for all things comedy, Poehler shares hilarious stories from her performing past. She shares how, as a 10-year-old playing the role of Dorothy in a school production of The Wizard Of Oz, she was able to get her first audience to laugh and how she has been chasing that feeling ever since. From her college years through her work with improv troupe (and later Comedy Central show) The Upright Citizens Brigade, Poehler stresses the value of hard work as the source of her success. Fans of her work on Saturday Night Live and Parks and Recreation will not be disappointed either — several chapters share inside jokes, back stories and funny mishaps on the sets of both beloved shows.
Her vast work experience isn’t the only engaging part of this memoir: Poehler also gets personal. Her reflections on motherhood and raising her two boys, Archie and Abel, demonstrate her creativity in parenting. She doesn’t directly address her divorce with comedian Will Arnett, but does offer a hilarious chapter on some divorce books she would like to someday write, such as “I Want a Divorce! See You Tomorrow!” and “The Holidays Are Ruined!” There are lots of stories about her friendships with recognizable names, like Tina Fey and Louis C.K. Best friend Seth Meyers also contributes a short chapter.
Inter-chapters feature some interesting “advice,” and the book shows off some great keepsakes: a letter from Hillary Clinton welcoming Archie into the world, a signed photo of The Wire’s Michael K. Williams and many photographs and relics from her childhood, including poems she wrote when she was little.
This memoir is perfect for any fan of Amy Poehler, her work or comedy in general. Her wealth of experience in a variety of venues and acts will inspire and educate those looking to “break into the biz,” and her ideas about everything from performing sketch comedy nine-months pregnant to how our cell phones will eventually kill us will amuse and entertain any reader. After reading, pick up some of her best work, like Parks and Recreation or Saturday Night Live: The Best of Amy Poehler on DVD.
Blake Butler’s 300,000,000 is a jungle; readers require courage and a literary machete to traverse this five-part psychological horror story. Told through the mediums of a manifesto left in the wake of a heinous murder spree, a first-hand account of the police investigation into the atrocities, and a disjointed recollection stitching the pieces together with plenty of room for the viscera to seep out, 300,000,000 is filled with rare glimpses of toxic and transcendent ravings.
Gretch Gravey is 300,000,000’s patient zero of homeland terror, supplicating and drugging teenage metal heads in his city to transform them into thralls of murder. He releases his ever-expanding army of brainwashed husks into the suburbs to kidnap people and bring them back to his house to be killed and buried in a sub-basement crypt. Gravey’s ultimate goal is the utter decimation of America by its own pudgy hands, and his successes are unhindered despite his eventual incarceration. Investigating police officer E.N. Flood feels himself being consumed by Gravey’s residual evil and attempts to chronicle his descent into madness in his notes, which are actively redacted by other members of the force who have succumbed to Gravey’s will.
As if Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club and Damned were chewed up and spat out in a bilious, meaty mass, 300,000,000 is disgusting and schizophrenic, yet somehow delicious in its depravity. Readers who enjoy wandering through their pitch-black houses when it’s so late that it’s actually early will be tickled by the way Blake Butler makes them question their sanity.