The Moonstone is a mystery. Depending on who you ask, it's possibly the first detective novel written. The moonstone is a very large diamond stolen from India. It's given to Rachel Verinder on her eighteenth birthday, and inexplicably disappears in the middle of the night. Renowned Sergeant Cuff from London is called in to solve the case, but even he runs into dead ends as he attempts to figure out what happened that night.

I love the way this story is told. It is divided into nine sections, each told by a different narrator. Franklin Blake, Rachel's cousin and the deliverer of the moonstone, has asked the major witnesses to record their recollections and experiences involving the diamond. The first large section of the book is told by Gabriel Betteredge, the Verinders' steward. He is a wonderful character to get to know, just the sort of English butler you would suppose - except he finds inspiration and wisdom in Robinson Crusoe. Each new section is told by a character with a distinct voice and personality. The variety of narrators is part of what makes this book so enjoyable.

The mystery will also keep you guessing to the very end. It's very different than today's mystery novels, which often owe more to action and violence than clues and investigative work. This is not an action-packed book. Yet for all that, it is difficult to put down as each narrator adds their piece of the puzzle.

The Moonstone is not a short book, yet it is a surprisingly fast read. The mystery and the characters combine to draw you into the story completely. This is one detective novel that you won't be sorry that you read!

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I don't honestly remember how I first stumbled across The Emerald Atlas by John Stephens. My guess would be a review from a fellow book blogger. But I've actually seen very little in the blogosphere about The Books of Beginning series. It could have just been a random library find. I guess it doesn't really matter, though, how I discovered this series in the first place. The point of this post is that you need to read them, too.

Here's why:

1. Kate, Michael, and Emma are the heroes of the series. They've been sent from orphanage to orphanage, believing that the parents that abandoned them would never come back for them. And yet, despite - or because of - that, they cling to each other with ferocity. Their love for each other is what gives these books their heart.

2. Just because they love each other doesn't mean they always get along. John Stephens perfectly captures sibling interactions (maybe he stole these from his own kids?). The dialogue between the siblings seem so authentic.

3. Plot twists like you wouldn't believe. When you add time travel and magic to the mix, anything can happen.

4. There are three siblings and three books - each character gets a chance to shine in their own book, but the plots are entwined throughout the series.

5. It's an extremely satisfying series. I just read the third book in the trilogy, which is what prompted me to write this post (I reviewed the first book when I read it a couple of years ago). This is a series that will not let you down. I'm not saying it won't make you cry. I'm just saying the author did a good job of upholding the integrity of the series.

6. These books are funny. Elves and dwarves and their rivalries provide comic relief, as do the siblings' interactions and teasing. I laughed out loud more than once. This alone could hook any middle grade reader, and it certainly hooked me.

Even though I teach fourth grade, I really don't read much middle grade fiction. But this was a series I could not put down and I could not forget about. I couldn't wait for the third book to be released this year, and I devoured it as soon as I could. If you like Narnia or The Hobbit or Harry Potter - or if you would just like to meet some really great kids - then you should most definitely read The Books of Beginning by John Stephens!

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What if your biggest dream in life was to become a magician? And not just any magician, but one who works with the coveted material of metal? And then, what if you were told that metal was not an option - you were going to be bonded to paper instead?

That's exactly what Ceony Twill just experienced when she arrives at the doorstep of Magician Emery Thane, ready (or not so ready) to begin her apprenticeship in paper. It's surely completely understandable if she isn't exactly polite to him to begin with. But as she learns more about paper (and more about him), she discovers that it isn't so bad. And then, one day over dinner, his heart is ripped out.

How's that for a premise? Every time I read the blurb on the back of the book, I jump when I get to the heart-ripped-out part. Such a nice, harmless story. . . until you get to that. But that is exactly what makes this book more than a harmless story. Suddenly Ceony has to get over her peevishness and jump into rescue mode, with really very little preparation (but with a paper dog named Fennel as a companion). The rest of the book is suspenseful, but it goes beyond chasing-after-the-evil-magician. As readers, we get to piece together the mystery of Emery Thane's life along with Ceony. We get to cheer her on past her fears and insecurities. And we get to hope desperately for the happy ending that we're not sure will come.

Ceony is an awesome character to get to know, and the world that Charlie Holmberg created is one I would love to live in (minus the whole heart-ripping-out thing). Sometimes the unexpected hero is the only one who can save the day. And who knew that origami might one day save your life?

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I should be honest right off the bat and admit that I’m not much of a mystery reader. I have devoured Lilian Jackson Braun’s Cat Who series, but that’s more for the cats and the small town of Pickax than the mysteries. So why would I pick up The Frost Fair by Edward Marston at the library?

Well, let me explain that the summer after my junior year in college, I took a three-week course in London. Much of my free time was spent wandering around the city exploring (and yes, most of it alone. Some things are better for parents to know after the fact.). One day, I was wandering along the south bank of the Thames on my way to the Globe Theatre. I happened upon a tunnel in the pathway (with a road overhead) that was decorated with the story of the Frost Fairs. Several hundred years ago, the Thames River would freeze completely over during the winter. When that was the case, entertainers, food booths, and salesmen moved onto the ice, ready to cater to the tourists who would come to enjoy this novelty. I loved the idea of this temporary festival, fun with a hint of danger (just how long would the ice last?).

Find it on: Goodreads  |  Amazon  |  Better World Books

I read The Last Dragonslayer, the first book in this series, nearly a year ago. I tried to write a review of it then, and couldn’t get beyond the first sentence (which, if you’re curious, was, “The Last Dragonslayer is the book I have always wanted to write.“). I read The Song of the Quarkbeast, the second book in this series several months ago. And there it sat in my review-to-be-written pile.

I’m not finding it hard to write reviews because I didn’t love the books. Because believe me, I LOVED these books. It’s just – how do you review, let alone describe, something that Jasper Fforde has written? The quirkiness is overpowering.

Find The Last Dragonslayer on:  Goodreads  |  Amazon  |  Better World Books
Find The Song of the Quarkbeast on:  Goodreads  |  Amazon

This book is fascinating and scary, all at the same time. Anana Johnson’s father, the head of the North American Dictionary of the English Language, disappears without explanation one Friday night. As Ana tries to find out where he’s gone, she discovers much more than she bargained for – a plot to delete words from the dictionary and replace them with nonsense words and definitions. And then people begin displaying signs of “word flu,” where the words they speak make less and less sense to the people around them.

The Word Exchange is a commentary on technology. Specifically, our reliance (or over-reliance) on technology. The more you rely on something else, the less you feel able to do yourself. It’s a point that needs to be made nowadays, as we learn about the invasive permissions required for the new Facebook messaging app. Or consider the possibility that the government is recording our phone calls. Even an advertisement I heard on Pandora as I was reading this book freaked me out – how Pandora knows what mood you are in and will play the appropriate playlist. Just exaggeration in advertising, I know (I hope). Still freaky to think about.

The Word Exchange is thought-provoking at the same time as it’s hang-onto-the-edge-of-your-seat. Not many books can provide both at once. But The Word Exchange delivers. A compelling plot with characters you care deeply about that makes you examine your 21st-century life and consider the future of technology.

Theological suspense. It’s really not a common genre, but Paul Maier knows how to make it work. The Constantine Codex is the third book in a series about Jonathan Weber, an archaeologist and professor at Harvard University. Jon and his wife, Shannon, discover an ancient codex, a copy of the Bible. These are extremely rare, and extremely valuable in the study of early Christianity and its beliefs. And not only is this a once-in-a-generation sort of find, but it just might contain a previously unknown book of the New Testament. All this is contingent, however, on proving that the codex is authentic and not a forgery. This process is a bit more fraught with peril than Jon and Shannon expected.

The first two books in this series – A Skeleton in God’s Closet and More Than a Skeleton – are amazing, can’t-put-them-down sort of books. The Constantine Codex doesn’t quite live up to that previously set standard, but it still is a fascinating read. Nearly the entire first half of the book is unrelated to the codex itself. Instead, it focuses on a debate about Islam and Christianity in which Dr. Weber takes part. It’s a creative way for Maier to get those arguments and proofs out there in a way that’s interesting to read and grabs your attention. I certainly learned a lot from this first half. The second half deals with the codex, and it almost feels like Maier is trying to imitate a formula that worked for the first two books of the series. It worked for this one as well. It just felt like he was trying a little too hard.

I can highly, highly recommend A Skeleton in God’s Closet and More Than a Skeleton. As in, go to the bookstore right now and buy them. They are fabulous books. And if you like those two, then The Constantine Codex is worth a read. Enjoy encountering the genre of theological suspense!

Just the title of this book alone conjures up images of adventures galore. Surely you can’t get around the world without some adventure, can you? Certainly not. And Phileas Fogg and Passepartout are no exception to this. Steamships and trains are not quite as reliable as one would expect them to be, leaving Phileas Fogg to find some creative solutions to their travel dilemmas. Following their journey around the world, despite the obstacles in their way, was certainly the most enjoyable aspect of this book.

The most surprising aspect of this book to me was the lack of emotion. Phileas Fogg was so straight-faced. Nothing fazed him. Everything had been anticipated. Did he ever smile? Or laugh? Or worry that he couldn’t win the bet, even for just a second? Apparently not. His reactions – or lack of reactions – to everything took some of the on-the-edge-of-your-seat suspense out of the book. To a certain degree, I appreciated that. This could have been a very stressful book to read (if you get overly involved, like I tend to do). Instead, I could just sit back and follow the adventures without being concerned. I have to admit, though, that that disappointed me a little. An around-the-world race should be a breathtaking , heart-stopping reading experience. Apparently Jules Verne and I have different opinions of this sort of reading experience.

Despite Phileas Fogg’s stoicism, I did enjoy reading this book. Passepartout was amusing, a occasionally clownish foil to Phileas Fogg. The actual journey and the places they visited were fascinating, even if they weren’t fully described. It’s always interesting to get a contemporary glimpse of a place a hundred years ago. Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea is also on my Classics Club list, and I’m looking forward to seeing his take on that sort of voyage. In the meantime, I’ll just keep plotting my own around-the-world adventure.

By the way, two female reporters did attempt to follow in Phileas Fogg’s and Passepartout’s steps. You can read all about their journeys in Eighty Days: Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland's History-Making Race Around the World by Matthew Goodman. And you can read my review of said book by clicking here.