Georgette Heyer is one of my favorite novelists. If you can’t have any more books by Jane Austen, then you’d better start stocking your shelves with books by Georgette Heyer. I haven’t yet met a Heyer book I didn’t like, and Friday’s Child was no exception.

Lord Sheringham, turned down by the woman he supposedly loved, instead decides to marry a girl he’s known since childhood. It was a rather hasty decision, and since Hero has never been “out” in society, she’s hardly prepared for a life as Lady Sheringham. Soon known as Kitten to Lord Sheringham and his closest friends, Hero gets herself in scrape after scrape, although always with the best of intentions. How is she supposed to know any better? Lord Sheringham begins to regret his hastiness in marrying her, until he discovers he cares for his Kitten more than he ever expected.

As always, Heyer writes a plot full of delightful twists and amusing dialogue. But it’s the secondary characters that really set Friday’s Child apart from many of her other Regency romances. From George Wrotham, who is always looking for an excuse for a duel, to the Honourable Ferdinand Fakenham, who speaks before he thinks more often than not, to overly vain Isabella Milborne – every single character brings amusement and life to this story. Georgette Heyer’s books are always good, but it’s not often that every character is so fleshed out with a life of his or her own. Friday’s Child  is a delight to read, and I finished it with regret.

Find it on: Goodreads  |  Amazon  |  Better World Books

What self-respecting bibliophile wouldn’t pick up a book titled The Case of the Missing Books?  I actually picked it up at the library, decided I was already checking out too many books, put it back on the shelf – and then ended up checking it out anyway. The cover and title were just too good to resist.

Israel Armstrong is a librarian who hasn’t had a lot going for him so far. His girlfriend is only semi-committed to the relationship, and he’s stuck working at a bookstore in a mall when he dreams of being the head librarian at a prestigious university. So when he gets a job as the librarian of the Tumdrum and District Public Library in Northern Ireland, he decides this is the chance of a lifetime. And then he arrives to discover that the library branch has been closed. His job is now to drive the mobile library around. Except there are no books in the mobile library. What's a librarian to do?

Israel as a detective in an Irish town where he doesn’t know a soul is extremely amusing. The townspeople are not exactly inclined to be helpful. You definitely feel for Israel as he enters one ridiculous situation after another. Anyone who loves books or has been in an awkward situation will relate to Israel’s attempts to do his job. And every character you meet adds to your enjoyment of this book. My one complaint is that it was rather more down-to-earth than I was hoping for. I was looking for a romantic, idealized view of life in Ireland, while this book provides a more realistic view. This is really my own fault more than anything, but it did keep me from completely loving the book.

Israel’s adventures continue in other books in this series, since he is still far from being comfortable in Tumdrum, Northern Ireland. One can hope that he will soon feel at home (for his sake), and yet continue to be out of his element (for our sake) as his career as a librarian continues.

Find it on: Goodreads  |  Amazon  |  Better World Books

There are books that you enjoy reading and can think of one or two friends to recommend it to. There are books that you love and recommend to all of your friends. Then there are books like Wonder, that you are convinced everyone in the world should read and you would press it on random strangers, telling them how wonderful it was. Yup, Wonder is definitely one of those books.

August Pullman has a birth defect that caused his face to be deformed. People have difficulty looking at him, and he has become a master at noticing even the most subtle reaction. For the most part, he has been in a cocoon of love – his mother has homeschooled him, and his family loves him unconditionally. But then fifth grade comes, and his parents have decided that it’s time for him to go to school like everyone else.

Anyone who remembers their school days remembers that fifth grade was not an easy year. Kids are growing up, trying to figure out who they are, trying to fit in with the cool kids. And then along comes August, brave and terrified, and his classmates’ reactions to him are both typical and life-affirming.

As a teacher myself, I can vouch that this book is spot-on in describing life in a school. The students, the teachers, the parents – they are all out there, just as they are in Wonder. I’ve read plenty of middle grade fiction, but this one gets the prize for a realistic view of daily school life.

And one of the amazing things about this book is that we don’t just see August’s point of view. We start there; we can see life through his eyes. And then in the next section, we switch to his sister’s point of view – and suddenly everything is different from how we saw it at first. R.J. Palacio gets so completely inside the heads of her characters that you can’t help but see everything that way, too.

August is a wonder, and so is this book. So true to life, so poignant. So filled with hope. So inspiring. Family, friends, random strangers – please read this book.

Sometimes I’m way behind the reading trends. For example, pretty much everyone has read Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell by now. So I’m not going to write a traditional review. I figure there might be a few holdouts like me who haven’t decided if they’re going to read the book or not. To help these people out, I’ve written two lists – one of why you should read Eleanor & Park, and one of why you should not. As with everything on this blog, these lists are entirely my own opinion. Feel free to agree or disagree, or to share your own opinion of this book.

Why You Should Not Read Eleanor & Park
   - The swearing. It’s sprinkled liberally throughout the book, and if this is something you typically avoid, you might want to avoid this book.
   - Verbal, sexual, and physical abuse. Not tons, but not really appropriate for younger readers.
   - The ending. It satisfies, but barely. Though I’m not sure there’s a better one.

Why You Should Read Eleanor & Park
   - The characters. Eleanor and Park are real and vulnerable. We all knew kids like them in high school. We may even have been kids like them in high school.
   - True love. First love. Love that is not puppy love or just a hook up. Love that matters.
   - The writing. Rainbow Rowell describes a situation or a feeling with just the right phrase. Every single time.
   - The setting. How often do you get to read a book set in 1986?
   - Dual points of view. You get the story from Eleanor’s angle and from Park’s angle. It makes you care about the characters just that much more.
   - The ending. It’s brilliant. It’s realistic, and it leaves you wanting more.

You can probably tell by the fact that my shoulds outnumber my should-nots that I really enjoyed this book and am glad I read it. If you’re on the fence about reading Eleanor & Park, I hope my lists helped! If you’ve already read it, let me know what you thought about it in the comments!

I visited Venice back in 2008 and was completely intrigued by the city. It was so hard to do just about everything. Streets that looked like they led the right direction would end at a canal, or there would be no bridge at the spot you needed to cross a canal. Despite this, I felt that I would have enjoyed living in the city for a few months to truly get the feel of everyday life.

That’s why I was so excited to see Donna Leon’s book of essays about life in Venice. She has lived in Venice for thirty years. This would truly be an insider’s view of life in a unique city. And it was. I thoroughly enjoyed each of her essays on Venice, dealing with everything from noisy neighbors to trying to renovate her house. The problem was that the book is titled My Venice and Other Essays. The Venice essays only took up about a quarter of the book. Then there were essays on opera and animals and writing crime novels. Leon is a witty essay writer. I just didn’t really care about those other topics.

If you are someone who typically enjoys reading essays, then you would probably enjoy reading this book. Leon is a good writer, who sees clearly and describes acerbically. If you’re looking for a book about Venice, though (as I was), there are probably better options.

This book was not quite what I expected, but that’s not a bad thing by any means. I expected it to be mostly personal narrative, describing Hales’ trials and triumphs as she attempted to learn Italian. What it actually is, however, is a history of the Italian language. I was a little disappointed at first. But once my brain made the adjustment from expectation to reality, I discovered that I was completely drawn into this book.

Language has always fascinated me. One of my favorite classes in college was a class about the history of the English language. So La Bella Lingua  was right up my alley. Even if the history of languages isn’t your thing, you will still enjoy this book. Hales describes complicated evolutions of words and keeps track of various historical personages with ease. And humor. Who knew a book about a language would have you laughing out loud?

Hales touches on everything from food to literature to movies. The language we speak enters every part of our lives, so a book on a language is a comprehensive look at what it means to be Italian, in this case. La Bella Lingua is well worth a read if you’ve ever wanted to visit Italy, if you’ve ever wanted to learn Italian, or even if you’ve ever eaten spaghetti.

Michael Tucker lived the dream – he bought a house in Italy, moved there, made friends, and learned how to thoroughly enjoy the Italian life. I guess all of that is possible when you’re a (mostly) famous actor (He was in L.A. Law. Yeah, I didn’t know that, either.). For those of us for whom this life remains a dream, however, Tucker’s book is the next best thing.

He portrays his acclimation into Italian living with humility and humor. It wasn’t always easy (putting gas into a diesel car doesn’t work so well), but he embraced his successes and failures with grace. He describes the food so amazingly that things I would never even think of eating sound delicious. And he gathers around himself a cast of friends, both Italians and ex-patriates, who are fun to get to know in their own right.

Continue dreaming of living in Italy. And to make your dream seem even more real, read Living in a Foreign Language.

I love Pride and Prejudice. It was my gateway book into Jane Austen the summer before my junior year of high school. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve reread it. And watched the BBC adaptation. Pride and Prejudice holds a special spot on my bookshelf and a special place in my heart.

So when I heard about Longbourn – the servants’ version of Pride and Prejudice – I immediately added it to my to-read list, although with some trepidation. How could it ever live up to Jane Austen?

Honestly, it didn’t. But it didn’t have to. Longbourn tells an entirely separate story from Pride and Prejudice. The Bennets are only incidental, providing inconveniences and work. Telling their story is not the purpose of this book. The lives of the servants take center stage.

Mrs. Hill becomes a living, breathing person. She is much more than just someone who hands Mrs. Bennet the smelling salts. She has hopes, dreams, and a history (a very unexpected one!). Sarah, the housemaid, wants so much more out of life than what she currently has. But how will she find it? By following Bingley’s exotic and tempting footman to London? Or by getting to know James, the mysterious footman at Longbourn whom no one seems to know anything about?

Jane Austen has been criticized for leaving the “real world” out of her novels. Life is not all tea and parties. Longbourn attempts to put the history of the time back in. The slave trade is mentioned, and the war with Napoleon is dealt with in much more detail than I expected. You would think that a book about servants would be even more inward-focused than one about the higher class, who at least are free to travel around the country. Not so.

Jo Baker treats the Bennet family with respect, but not kid gloves. You don’t need to fear that your perception of them will be dashed, but your eyes will be opened to the differences in class that were simply taken for granted in that time. Above all, you will learn that a servant is no different from anyone else in their hopes and fears. And you will get to know the servants of Longbourn quite well, and love them as part of the Bennet family.

This is a book that I just randomly picked up off the library shelf. Sometimes those are the best ones. This book was so beautiful and so much more than I expected.

It’s the early 1900s in Montana. Paul’s mother has died, and his father has answered an advertisement in the newspaper about a housekeeper. Enter Rose Llewellyn – and her brother Morrie, who tagged along. Morrie ends up taking over the position of teacher for the one-room schoolhouse, where his talents as an unconventional know-it-all can shine.

Throughout the book, you come to love every single character, especially Paul’s youngest brother, Toby. What an adorable seven-year-old. Paul’s family has such a bond. Dryland farming in Montana doesn’t sound like much fun, but I would still put up with it to be part of Paul’s family, including Rose and Morrie. Ivan Doig paints a picture of a time when life was simpler and friends and family mattered more than anything. Doig’s writing, all around, is superb.

This is a truly touching book. The start may be a bit slow, but stick with it. If you do, these characters will stick with you for a very long time.

George MacDonald was a writer greatly admired by C.S. Lewis, and that is the sole reason I picked this book up at a used book sale sometime in the last five years. The premise of the story (the laird of a Scottish castle and his son struggle to make ends meet) didn’t particularly intrigue me. It’s certainly not a fast read – even though the version I had was an adapted version: the Scottish dialect was pared down and the book was shortened by a couple hundred pages. This book did not capture my heart quickly, but when it did, it captured it fully. Reading this book is a spiritual experience. MacDonald’s vision of God as a loving heavenly Father shines through clearly on each page. I found myself dog-earing corners so I could easily find certain sections again, and I never dog-ear corners! By the end of this book, my soul felt refreshed. There are not many books I can say that about. I can easily see why C.S. Lewis admired George MacDonald. I look forward to turning to him again in order to rejuvenate my soul.

Natalie’s life is not going exactly as she planned. Her job is less than exciting, and her boyfriend of many years just decided he wants out of the relationship. Natalie’s best friend, Tom, devises a plan to cheer her up: each weekend, they would do something together, starting with each letter of the alphabet. He gets to pick the activity for A; she gets to pick for B; and so on, until they reach Z. Tom’s ulterior motive, however, is to turn his friendship with Natalie into much more. Interwoven with the story of Natalie and Tom are the stories of the families around them. Natalie’s parents and Tom’s brother and sister-in-law feature in their own dramas. Each story line shows people struggling to find love and the meaning in the love they’ve found.

The idea of the alphabet weekends is what drew me to this book, and what kept me there. It’s so intriguing, in fact, that I’m considering making my own list of alphabet activities (let’s see . . . R is for reading. . .). The characters of Natalie and Tom were fun to get to know. This is a good chick-flick, escapist sort of novel. Not terribly deep (although there were certainly serious moments), but a fun read with some enjoyable characters. And some alphabetical inspiration.

This novel takes place eight years after Big Stone Gap, the first in the series, but the characters you know and love are still the same. Ave Maria and Jack are married, although that doesn’t always go as well as Ave Maria was hoping for. They’ve been through some rough times over the years, and that is starting to take its toll on their marriage. Big Cherry Holler  is the story of a marriage in trouble (and hopefully without spoiling too much, it’s exactly the sort of story I was looking for in this Smiling Shelves Soapbox post). Trigiani’s characters shine through like always. She chronicles Ave Maria’s thoughts remarkably and honestly well. This is a fun book, but not a fluffy book. There are struggles and truth in here as well, and Adriana Trigiani brings it all to life.

The Fitzgeralds did not live happy lives. I’ve always pictured them living free, fun, artistic lives, whether in New York or Paris or somewhere else. You know, the flapper mentality of the 1920s – life is a party and anything can happen. But truthfully, life isn’t a party. Oh, it can be for awhile, but it doesn’t last. The Fitzgeralds started their life together as a party, but then other things invaded. There was drunkenness, mental illness, money problems. . . Life was not always carefree.

I recently read two books that opened my eyes to the real life of the Fitzgeralds: Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Anne Fowler and Gatsby’s Girl by Caroline Preston. As the subtitle claims, Z tells the story of Scott’s wife, Zelda. And again, it’s not a happy story. She started out as the consummate flapper and ended up living in mental hospitals until she died. Fowler does a beautiful job of telling Zelda’s story. The lives of famous people get distorted through time, gossip, and retellings. Z provides Zelda’s side and a plausible explanation for her behavior. Zelda becomes a character you can truly sympathize with and feel sorry for, rather than just a “crazy person”, as she is sometimes portrayed. This is Zelda’s life as she would want it to be known.

Gatsby’s Girl follows the Fitzgeralds only indirectly. The “girl” of the title is Scott Fitzgerald’s first serious girlfriend, Ginevra Perry (based on a real person named Ginevra King). They meet one winter break during Scott’s college years and write letters for many months. But when Scott actually comes to visit, Ginevra finds him annoying and immature, and decides to end the relationship. By doing so, she becomes the inspiration for the ultimate unattainable love, as seen in The Great Gatsby and other works by Fitzgerald. Preston also gives us a relatable character, one who makes mistakes but then tries to make the best of them.

Both of these books provide insights into the life of a famous author and those who surrounded him. The characters are flawed, but it is precisely these flaws that draw us to them.

I had a love-hate relationship with this book. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme. It was more of a eager-reluctant relationship. The Art of Racing in the Rain is the story of a race car driver, his wife, and his daughter. But here’s the twist – the story is told by their dog. Which brings the reader’s connection with the characters to a whole new level of heart-breaking.

Every time I put down this book, I was reluctant to pick it up again. Sad things were happening. I didn’t want to know what was going to come next. On the other hand, I was eager to pick up the book and continue reading. Sad things were happening. I wanted to push through to the happy part.

Neither of those emotions – eagerness or reluctance – would have been present if these characters weren’t real and their lives realistic. Surely Denny and Zoe still live somewhere. Their story was so raw and emotional and livable. You can’t help but be drawn to them.

The idea of having the story narrated by Enzo, their dog, is brilliant. His perspective on the family is always right-on. He often sees things more clearly than the people do, which shouldn’t surprise us. An old soul of a dog can cut right through the barriers and complications that humans throw in the way.

This is a book that I would like to reread someday. Since Denny, the master, is a race car driver, there are racing metaphors proliferating this book. I honestly did not take a whole lot of time understanding, applying, or even reading these. I just wanted to know what would happen with the characters. But I’m certain that these add a layer of meaning to this book that would greatly increase any reader’s enjoyment of it. Now that I know the ending, I would like to reread and get more out of this book the second time.

You don’t have to be a dog person to like this book. You just have to be a lover of triumph through adversity. And aren’t we all?