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.

God is real. And God is big. Those were my take-home messages from Heaven is for Real, things I daily need to be reminded of. Heaven is for Real is the true story of three-year-old Colton Burpo, who almost died when his appendix burst. While he was having surgery, he got a three-minute glimpse of heaven that included an awful lot of experiences. Over the next several years, he would casually drop some of these observations into conversations with his parents. His father, Todd Burpo, put these conversations on paper, and this book was born.

I read this book in one evening. It’s written simply and is easy to read. The story of Colton really pulled me in, and I was eager to see what he would describe next. He talks about the colors in heaven and the people he meets there, including a sister who had been miscarried. Every observation is given matter-of-factly. Colton’s pure, childlike faith shines through.

I made a point of not reading other reviews (especially theological ones) before I read this book. I could just see theologians of all varieties tearing it apart. And while I don’t take Colton’s knowledge of heaven as the Gospel truth in every detail, I don’t doubt that he really had this experience. I appreciated how many Bible verses were included to compare his observations to. Occasionally it seemed to be a stretch to apply a particular one, but for the most part, what Colton saw lined up with what the Bible says.

Colton believes whole-heartedly and without wavering in the truth of God’s existence and in the boundless capacity of His love. Faith doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes it takes a three-year-old to remind us of that.

If you’re going to read a book about long-distance swimming, this should be that book. Lynne Cox is an amazingly determined woman and an absolutely incredible long-distance swimmer. She’s done it all – from swimming the English Channel (twice, setting world records both times) to being the first person to swim across. . .just about everything. The physical feats are remarkable, but just as remarkable is her determination and tenacity. In the middle of the Cold War, she decided she wanted to swim across the Bering Strait. It took her eleven years to accomplish this goal, but she never gave up. Cox is a good writer, drawing out the suspense of each swim. She tells the story of her own life humbly, although she has done many, many things she could brag about. This is a book to show you the power of determination and setting goals. It will encourage you to work even harder towards goals of your own. 

Rachel Friedman had one year of college left and no idea what to do with her life. Her solution? Move to Ireland for the summer. Suddenly a whole new world (literally and figuratively) is opened to her. She catches the travel bug, and she knows what she wants to do with her life, at least for the immediate future – see the world. She spends four months in Australia with a friend she met in Ireland, and then travels around South America with that same friend. Along the way, she discovers who she is – and it’s a very different person than who she thought she was.

Friedman’s memoir is wonderful. She describes her transition from a terrified-let’s-just-stay-in-the-hostel-instead-of-exploring sort of traveler to a sure-let’s-go-bungee-jumping-why-not sort of traveler in such a humble and engaging way. And amusing. This book was nothing if not funny. She constantly steps outside of her comfort zone and challenges herself. She grows into  the sort of traveler I want to be (minus the death-defying bus trips through mountains in South America). This book perfectly embodies Thoreau’s quote: “Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” Friedman discovered herself through her travels. By following along with her, we can maybe discover something about ourselves, too.

My family visited Yellowstone National Park the summer after I graduated from eighth grade. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember Old Faithful and walking on very specific paths past brightly colored, bubbling hot springs. And the smell of sulfur. Oh, yes, that lovely smell.

I’m looking forward to visiting Yellowstone again someday, which was why I was excited to pick up Jack Turner’s travelogue about the National Park and the area surrounding it. He lives in a cabin there, and has spent many days and hours exploring and communing with nature.

The parts of this book that simply described his surroundings were wonderful. I found myself on Google Images several times searching for flowers that he mentioned (pink elephant head flowers are the coolest flowers ever). I’m not a fishing sort of person, but I even enjoyed his descriptions of angling (what a complicated sport). What I got tired of, however, were his diatribes on the lack of proper conservation and wildness. I don’t fault his enthusiasm, nor do I disagree with his position. I just wish he didn’t feel the need to elaborate (or rant) on it eighteen times (or more) in a 250-page book. If you’re more of an ardent environmentalist than I am, you may not find this quite so tiresome and therefore enjoy the book better overall. As for me, I’ll take my travelogue without excessive soapbox lecturing, please.

The Color of Rain is about God’s plan prevailing through adversity. It’s not an easy book to read, but it is worthwhile. It provides an essential reminder that when our world is crumbling around us, God is still in control and will be with us through it all.

Michael and Gina Spehn are the authors of this book – a true story of their lives, and a story that only God could write. Gina’s husband Matt was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. Not long after he passed away, doctors discovered that Michael’s wife Cathy had a brain tumor. Nineteen days later, her battle with cancer was over. Anyone who has lost a loved one knows what they went through during these awful days, weeks, and months.

But that’s not the end of the story. Because God is in control, there is always hope. There is always a plan. There is always a future. And Michael and Gina found their future together. Helping each other through their losses brought them a happiness that they never saw coming.

Michael and Gina visited my church earlier this year. I heard them tell their story, and then I went home and read their book. It truly is a powerful story of God’s love and provision. It’s not easy to read about the hard times, but it’s incredibly uplifting to learn how God has worked good through the bad. Please pick up a copy of this book and be reminded of all the ways that God is working in your life every single day.

I’ve decided that I’m too young to truly do justice to a review of this book. I didn’t live in the 1960s. I’ve never lived in the South. In my memory, normal has been happily coexisting with people of all races. And yet, maybe it’s people like me that need to read this book the most.

If you’re not familiar with the storyline of The Help, here’s the basics. It follows three women in Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960s. Two of them, Aibileen and Minny are black women, maids to the white women of the city. The third is one of those white women – Skeeter Phelan, whose plan for her own life is very different from her mother’s. She wants to be a reporter, a real writer. When a New York publisher tells her to write about something that bothers her, she comes up with the idea to write a book telling the maids’ stories. What is it like to work for the white women of Jackson? To be told that you are diseased so you can’t use the indoors bathroom? To be expected to clean the house perfectly while taking care of the children? Aibileen and Minny know how dangerous this project will be, while Skeeter is discovering a whole new side to what she thought was reality.

I grew up in a time and place where racism wasn’t really a problem. I know our country isn’t perfect now when it comes to this area. But I just was blown away by how far we’ve come in the past fifty years. I have no doubt that this was these women’s reality. They feared for their lives and for their families if they spoke out. I can’t imagine living like that, and I have so much respect for those that did.

The Help brings this time period to life for those of us who didn’t live through it. Kathryn Stockett views the issue of racism through so many people’s eyes – the fresh college graduate determined to change the world, the older generation that can’t see anything wrong with the way things are, the younger generation determined to keep the status quo no matter what, the maids who give their lives to these families only to be treated like nothing, the maids who love the white children as their own, and all who were determined to take a stand despite the danger and their fear. It was really this that sold me on this book. It’s not a one-sided look at life in the South in the 1960s. It covers as much ground and as many perspectives as it can. This is one of the many reasons why reading this book is most definitely worth your time. And there is no doubt of that – reading this book is most definitely worth your time. Everyone can learn something from this book, whether you lived through the 1960s or not. Kathryn Stockett’s story is one that needs to be read.

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 Boys in the Boat is the story of America’s 1936 Olympic rowing team. The event involves an eight-man crew, but the book focuses mainly on one of the eight. It’s Joe Rantz’s biography combined with the events leading up to the 1936 Berlin Olympics. I found that the parts focusing solely on Rantz could sometimes be tedious, but they all ultimately served the purpose of giving us a picture of the times.

I know next to nothing about crew, and after reading the book, I can more or less say the same. Daniel James Brown does his best to explain the intricacies involved in putting together a crew, the discipline involved in rowing well together, and the mechanics of building the best boat. He really does explain it well, but I have to admit that not much of it stuck. That’s perfectly all right, though, because you can enjoy the events without mastering the behind-the-scenes details.

My overwhelming emotion at the end of this book is respect for these boys and anyone who rows. It doesn’t seem like it would be that difficult to row a boat down a river or lake, but I now believe that it is one of the most difficult sports to do well. In order to go fast, every movement has to be timed precisely and lined up exactly with every rower in the boat. And then speed up or slow down at the same time, according to the directions of the coxswain. What a feat! I most certainly plan to watch these events during the next Summer Olympics, now that I understand somewhat just how difficult it is.

The ending of this book is astounding. It’s hard to believe that this is actually what happened because it reads like a movie. Mark Twain was right when he said that truth is stranger than fiction. Brown does an awesome job of describing the races in a way that keep you on the edge of your seat. This isn’t an easy task for a writer, but Brown succeeds every time.

This is a story that deserves to be told, and Brown does it well. He introduces us to a crew of boys that you wish you could be friends with. He paints a picture of the times – America during the Great Depression and Germany as Hitler rises to power. This book holds an uplifting story of the power of hard work and dedication to your teammates.

The Elephant Keepers’ Children is both ridiculous and profound. It takes place (mostly) on the fictional Danish island of Fino, and is narrated by the pastor’s son, Peter. Peter is certainly a storyteller. His narrative jumps from present events to past ones, trying to explain how exactly the current incredibly ridiculous situation has come about.

The novel begins with Peter’s parents disappearing. He and his older sister, Tilte, immediately realize they must find them – in essence, go to their rescue. Peter and Tilte have a strong connection. Both have had their hearts broken by the love of their life (although you may think 14 and 16 years old respectively a bit young for such heartbreaks). Both feel more inclined to take care of their parents, rather than vice versa. The pastor and his wife are enthusiasts. Since she is extremely talented mechanically, they have often used that to their advantage in creating “miracles” to draw people to church. While this breaks no laws, Peter and Tilte find their parents to be treading slippery ground. They are afraid to see where this path will lead them. As they begin to uncover clues in the parents’ disappearance, their fears seem to be realized.

The elephants mentioned in the title are not real elephants at all. They are obsessions, enthusiasms, major concerns….honestly, they are rather hard to describe, so I’ll just let Peter do it for you: “Mother and Father have something inside them that is much bigger than themselves and over which they have no control…This is what they live for above all else, and it is this yearning that has given them that sorrowful look around the eyes, and it is a yearning as big as an elephant, and we can see that it will never properly be fulfilled.” (p. 148-149) Surely, to some extent, we all have an elephant in our lives, whatever it may be.

Peter and Tilte’s adventures border on the ludicrous, but that’s really simply the style of the book. It’s not meant to be realistic; it’s meant to be absurd. Some of the characters’ names alone show this (honestly, one of my favorite parts): there’s Anaflabia Borderrud, Professor Thorkild Thorlacius-Claptrap, Leonora Ticklepalate, and Sinbad Al-Blablab, to name just a few. In a way, this book tackles religious fervor. There is a Grand Synod of all religions in Copenhagen, which, as you can imagine, becomes rather essential to the plot. The author, Peter Hoeg, makes up a few religions to lay alongside the traditional ones. And while he doesn’t treat any religion precisely respectfully, he doesn’t exactly treat them disrespectfully either. It’s part of the ridiculous profundity of this book. He can describe a basic human truth couched in an impossibly silly situation, and you can learn something from it all.

The Elephant Keepers’ Children is really an enjoyable book. It’s unusual, certainly, but that is part of its draw. Read it to discover what love is, of what nature your elephant is, or simply to get lost in a good story. There’s something for everyone here.

I finished To Kill a Mockingbird yesterday (well, last week, by the time you read this). My thoughts are still formulating, slowly and solemnly, so I'll just share some of the impressions that stuck with me as I read.

This is a book I'm glad I first experienced as an adult. I know many people first read it as a high school assignment. While I would have enjoyed the chance to discuss the book, I'm not sure a high school English class would have been the best place for that. This is a profound book, and required reading tends to ruin the impact a book can have on someone's life. As an adult, I could fully enjoy the many layers of this story without being forced to analyze. I'm also quite sure I understood more than I would have as a high schooler. And I fully plan to read this book again later in my life so I can delve even deeper into the layers of the story.

It was a brilliant decision on Harper Lee's part to tell this story from Scout's point of view. She sees the world as it should be, without prejudice or other people's opinions to color her view. It also makes those times when Atticus explains something to her equally as brilliant because of the way he needs to explain them so she understands. Children see truth, right through the facades of adults. I don't believe this book would have such a powerful impact if it had been told from the viewpoint of another character. That being said, however, I would love to get inside Atticus' or Boo Radley's or Tom Robinson's head and see the story from their side.

I don't know why it took me so long to pick this book up, but I am incredibly glad that I did. These are characters that will stay with me for a very long time, living in a story that touches us even today. And what a poignant story it is.

My reading conditions for this book were not ideal. Let’s start with that. First of all, it’s science fiction – a genre I’ve dabbled with, but not too deeply. Secondly, I rushed through it, reading it all in one day so I could return my library books on time. I will readily admit that I did not give this book the time or attention it deserves. So take my review with a grain of salt.

My general impression of this book is that it’s confusing. It involves time travel, which is becoming big in the world of YA and contemporary fiction. But this is the science fictional spin on it, so it’s rather more technical than a simple plot device. The main character is a time travel technician. He fixes people’s broken time machines. He’s a bit of a loner, preferring to hang out outside of time in his own time machine. His father has gone missing, and the overarching theme of the book is this tortured father-son relationship. Then he gets stuck in a time loop and things get even more complicated.

I found many similarities to Douglas Adams’ A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, but with less humor. Douglas Adams crossed with Jean-Paul Sartre, with a dash of Jasper Fforde thrown in (in the science fictional aspects of the world). The author seemed to be confused about exactly what style of writing he was aiming for.

If I had more time to read this book, I probably would have liked it better. I could have reread and actually tried to understand the more technical aspects of the world. I could have dived deeper into examining the relationship between the father and the son. I have no doubt that this is a book that holds truth about our world and our relationships. Unfortunately, I just didn’t have the time to find it.