Posts Tagged ‘Scootsa1000


I wish I had a sköldpadda of my very own. CBR10 Review 17.

Unknown-4For a long time I’ve stood by my assertion that Song of Susannah was my least favorite Dark Tower book, hands down. The last time I reviewed it (back in 2012), I even went out on a limb and said this:

Song of Susannah, however, was my least favorite Dark Tower book when I first read it. And I can safely say that it will always be my least favorite.

Well, I guess I can’t trust myself.

Now that I’m almost another full loop through the saga, I’m not sure if my opinion is still the same. Is SoS still my least favorite? Or is there enough good stuff in there (the stuff that isn’t about Susannah and the wretched Mia) to change my mind? Is Wizard & Glass my least favorite? It hurts me to think that because I loved it so much the first time I read it…but like it less and less with each subsequent reading.

I’ll be honest. I do hate the stuff with Mia. Their long long long talks in the deserted town of Fedic make me crazy. Every time the POV switches back to those two, I would audibly groan. At least, until the sköldpadda makes an appearance. Because the sköldpadda makes everything better. Who wouldn’t want a little magic turtle?

I didn’t like the parts when Susannah has to travel to her “dogan” to control Mia and the baby. And while I appreciate that Odetta Holmes was a great woman who stood up for what she believed in, I didn’t need to read pages and pages of folk song lyrics right when things were getting interesting. Yes, Man of Constant Sorrow is a lovely song…but after a while, this was all I could think of:

But I don’t really want to talk too much about Mia. Or at all, really. There are a lot of other things I’d rather spend time on.

I’d rather talk about John Cullum. He’s one of my favorite minor characters in The Dark Tower. I love his Yankee sensibility and his immediate acceptance of the situation he suddenly finds himself in when Roland and Eddie literally appear in front of him in the general store. I had an uncle who was a pilot in WWII, and he was from New England. That’s who I imagine here. A guy who gets stuff done and gets it done well, and still makes time to ask about the Red Sox no matter how busy he might be.

Or how about Trudy Damascus? I’d like to know what eventually happens to her after her mental unraveling from witnessing Susannah/Mia appear out of thin air and then steal her shoes. I want to know if she’s still working at her accounting firm, and if she likes to sit in the park and listen to the voices at 2 Hammarskjold Plaza. I hope she’s ok, whatever she’s doing.

Same with Mathiessen Van Wyck. I hope he and his wife have worked out their differences. And I hope his stomach problems work themselves out, too. He deserves to be happy after telling us that the little turtle was called a sköldpadda.

But mostly, I’d like to talk about the badass trio of Jake, Oy, and Pere Callahan, tracking Susannah around New York City. These three weren’t even supposed to end up in Manhattan — they were supposed to go to Maine to talk to the wretched Calvin Tower — but they assimilate to 1999 pretty quickly. They find the hotel where Susannah/Mia are staying, they figure out the plan to get to the Dixie Pig, and they permanently hide Black Thirteen, all within a few hours.

I really love how Pere finds his lost faith at the end of this book. Without it, they never would have been driven insane by Black Thirteen in Susannah’s hotel room. But Pere Callahan gathers all of the faith he has left, and prays to God to save them from Black Thirteen.

“God, if you still hear me, this is Callahan. Please still this thing. Please send it back to sleep.”

And so, God does.

I was glad that Pere had that faith with him as they got in the cab and drove uptown to the Dixie Pig. We all know he was going to need it. But more on that in a few weeks, when I’ve finally finished the series and have more to say about Callahan’s last stand.



This was a book? I read it. I liked it? CBR10 Review 16.

UnknownThere’s been a lot of talk about Lincoln in the Bardo over the past 18 months or so. It won a lot of awards, for sure. I finally got it from the library and I read it.

And I have no idea, honestly, if I liked it or not. I did?

There’s a lot going on here. Abraham Lincoln’s youngest son, Willie, has died and been laid to rest in a cemetery in Georgetown. Lincoln is mad with grief and spends the better part of the night after the funeral sitting in the cemetery, mourning his son.

Meanwhile, Willie’s spirit is stuck in a sort of purgatory, right in the very tomb where his body is at rest. The cemetery is filled with these spirits, many of whom tell their tales and attempt to help Willie get back to his father and his life. None of these spirits accept the simple fact that they are dead, and that’s pretty much the only reason they are stuck in this place. Occasionally, a spirit that they know will disappear suddenly, and we know that’s because that spirit has finally faced the truth.

I’ll admit that it wasn’t until I finished the book that I actually wondered what the definition of “Bardo” was. I ignorantly thought it was the name of the tomb or the cemetery. But I was very wrong. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the definition of Bardo is as follows:

  1. (in Tibetan Buddhism) a state of existence between death and rebirth, varying in length according to a person’s conduct in life and manner of, or age at, death.

OK. So. I wish I had known that going in. My bad.

Anyhoo, here’s the gist of the story. The historical parts about Lincoln, his presidency, and the illness and death of his son are told by citing actual writings (letters, interviews, biographies, etc). The bits in the “Bardo” are told with many narrators, all spirits, who are shocked at the actions of Lincoln, as no other human has ever spent more time than absolutely necessary in their little world.

It absolutely takes a while to figure out how to read this book. Its amazingly original, but a little tough to follow at times. (And I hear that the audio book is great, but really confusing if you don’t know the story. There are hundreds of narrators here.)

I appreciate what George Saunders did here, and some of it made me want to read more about Lincoln and the early parts of the Civil War and his presidency. I had no idea that he was disliked to such an extent, and some of the citations made me think of our current leader. For instance:

The people have, for nineteen months, poured out, at your call, sons, brothers, husbands & money.–What is the result?–Do you ever realize that the desolation, sorrow, grief that pervades this country is owing to you?–that the young men who have been maimed, crippled, murdered, & made invalids for lie, owe it to your weakness, irresolution, & want of moral courage?


You have seized the reins, made yourself dictator, established a monolithic new form of government which must dominate over the rights of the individual. Your reign presages a terrible time when all of our liberties shall be lost in favor of the rights of the monolith. The founders look on in dismay.

and lastly

If Abe Lincoln should be re-elected for another term of four years of such wretched administration, we hope that a bold hand will be found to plunge the dagger into the tyrant’s heart for the public welfare.

That’s a lot to deal with for good old Honest Abe, I’d say. And I guess he really turned things around for himself, as far as public opinion goes.

The history was certainly interesting. I had no idea that Lincoln’s children had met such tragic ends, and the background here really hit me as a parent. I felt sorry that he was scrutinized as a parent and more or less blamed for Willie’s death because of his easy-going parenting style, similar to pretty much any parent on social media today!

The bits in the Bardo were a bit tougher for me. They were certainly well written and some of the narrators back stories were heartbreaking. But I just didn’t like this part as much as the historical part. It simply didn’t speak to me most of the time.

But there were definitely some parts that did. Near the end, when some of the spirits realize exactly where they are and why they haven’t moved on to the afterlife, one of the main narrators realizes exactly what’s happening to him, and the writing was simply beautiful.

There was nothing left for me to do, but go.
Though the things of the world were strong with me still.
Such as, for example: a gaggle of children trudging through a side-blown December flurry; a friendly match-share beneath some collision-titled streetlight; a frozen clock, a bird visited within its high tower; cold water from a tin jug; towering off one’s clinging shirt post-June rain.
Pearls, rags, buttons, rug-tuft, beer-froth.
Someone’s kind wishes for you; someone remembering to write; someone noticing that you are not at all at ease.
A bloody ross death-red on a platter; a headgetop under-hand as you flee late to some chalk-and-woodfire-smelling schoolhouse.
Geese above, clover below, the sound of one’s own breath when winded.
The way a moistness in the eye will blur a field of stars; the sore place on the shoulder a resting toboggan makes; writing one’s beloved’s name upon a frosted window with a gloved finger.
Tying a shoe; tying a knot on a package; a mouth on yours; a hand on yours; the ending of the day; the beginning of the day; the feeling that there will always be a day ahead.
Goodbye, I must now say goodbye to all of it.
Loon-call in the dark; calf-cramp in the spring; neck-rub in the parlour; milk-sip at end of day.
Some brandy-legged dog proudly back-ploughs the grass to cover its modest shit; a cloud-mass down-valley breaks apart over the course of a brandy-deepened hour; louvered blinds yield dusty beneath your dragging finger, and it is nearly noon and you must decide; you have seen what you have seen, and it has wounded you, and it seems you have only one choice left.
Blood-stained porcelain bowl wobbles face down on wood floor; orange peel not at all stirred by disbelieving last breath there among that fine summer dust-layer, fatal knife set down in pass-panic on familiar wobbly banister, later dropped (thrown) by Mother (dear Mother) (heartsick) into the slow-flowing, chocolate-brown Potomac.
None of it was real; nothing was real.
Everything was real; inconceivably real, infinitely dear.
These and all things started as nothing, latent within a vast energy-broth, but then we named them, and loved them, and in this way, brought them forth.
And now we must lose them.
I send this out to you, dear friends, before I go, in this instantaneous thought-burst, from a place where time slows and then stops and we may live forever in a single instant.
Goodbye goodbye good-

Simple observations of what its like to live a life. Unsure of what will happen to him next, as he prepares himself to move on from the Bardo, he remembered the little things that he could from his mortal existence, the things that made him human.

I’m glad I read this, but am not sure I would recommend it to everyone. If you know what you’re in for, its a worthwhile read. But it isn’t a straightforward piece of fiction. You really have to work for it.






“If someone asks you how you are, you are meant to say FINE. You are not meant to say that you cried yourself to sleep last night because you hadn’t spoken to another person for two consecutive days. FINE is what you say.” CBR10 Review 15.

UnknownMy new book club has a bit of a fascination with books that Reese Witherspoon likes. And that’s fine. Reese’s picks are usually quick and entertaining reads, and lead to interesting discussions that pair well with wine. Without Reese Witherspoon, I’m not sure I would have had Eleanor Oliphant on my radar — I know its been positively reviewed here many times, but something about it just didn’t call out to me. Until Reese announced it would be a movie, which inspired my book club…and here we are.


To be honest, I wasn’t 100% on board with this choice, until Eleanor (named after the elder Dashwood sister) talked about rereading one of her favorite books, Jane Eyre. One night, when she can’t sleep, Eleanor picks up her battered paperback and opens it at random, to when Janey first meets Rochester:

…startling his horse in the woods and causing him to fail. Pilot is there too, the handsome, soulful-eyed hound. If the book has one failing, it’s that there is insufficient mention of Pilot. You can’t have too much dog in a book.

And right there, I said, ok, I’m in.

Eleanor hasn’t had an easy life. Raised in foster care since the age of 10 — when something unspeakable happened, and she was taken from her “mummy,” Eleanor has led mostly a solitary existence. She lives alone, and other than her weekdays at work, rarely has any interaction with other people. And she sticks to a very strict routine: she talks to Mummy on Wednesdays, she goes to work, and then on the weekends — pizza from Tesco with a bottle of wine, and then two bottles of vodka.

Her colleagues think she’s a strange one — and indeed, she is a bit aloof. But she’s also extremely honest and truthful. Sort of like a female Larry David, but completely unaware of her social missteps.

One day, she has a bit of trouble with her PC at work and is annoyed to realize that she’s going to have to call IT in order to get it working again. The new IT guy, Raymond, shows up, fixes her computer, and annoys her with his sloppy mannerisms and the smell of cigarettes all around him. That night, Raymond walks out with her, and they witness an older man who collapses on the sidewalk near them. They rush to help him, and the three of them unwittingly find themselves tethered together forever.

Through Raymond and Sammy (the elderly man), Eleanor’s whole life changes. She is invited places. She meets people. She takes more responsibility at work. Little things to most people, but huge to Eleanor.

Meanwhile, Eleanor has unhealthily decided that she’s in love with a pop singer that she recently saw at a club, and starts to improve her appearance so that she might be ready for him when he decides to be with her.

Her new friendships, her potential romance with the singer, and her toxic relationship with Mummy all come to a head about two-thirds of the way through the book…and I’ll be honest, it was at this point that this book about what it means to be alone vs what it means to be lonely totally punched me in the gut and left me gasping for breath.

Its a lovely and often very funny story about friendship and family, but its also a tragic story about depression and suicide. I’m sure Reese will make a great movie out of this one. I hope they keep it based in Scotland…I’d hate to see the local charm removed so that it could be set in New York or Chicago.





“A short story is a different thing altogether – a short story is like a quick kiss in the dark from a stranger.” CBR10 Reviews 13 & 14.

Unknown-4I think it would be fair to say that Uncle Stevie and I have an understanding. He writes, I’m a constant reader, and that’s that. And I’ve been known to reread some of the things that he’s written many times. Even when the stories are upsetting or dark or scary, there’s something comforting about them for me. Maybe because I started reading them at a really early age (seriously, way too early….what exactly was going on in the 1980s?), his writing is sort of a nostalgic part of my childhood. I can picture myself wandering around the adult horror section of the Newton Highlands Public Library, and then finding a cozy corner in front of a window where I could sit down and read. Because I didn’t want to read these stories in the dark, that was for sure.

Night Shift and Skeleton Crew are two of his earliest short story collections — and sometimes (especially in Night Shift) you can tell. The stories have a few more rough edges than what you might read in later books like Everything’s Eventual, or Just After Sunset. But some of them can still scare the crap out of me.

Night Shift, which includes stories from the 1960s and 70s, has a few of his all-time creepiest tales. Jerusalem’s Lot, The Boogeyman, and One for the Road are some of his best.

And so many — The Lawnmower Man, Quitters Inc, The Ledge, Children of the Corn, Sometimes They Come Back, Trucks, Battleground, The Mangler, Graveyard Shift — have inspired movies (whether they deserved to or not…I’m looking at you, Graveyard Shift). Its really amazing how influential some of these stories from so early in his career have become. Jerusalem’s Lot and One for the Road inspired him to write Salem’s Lot. Night Surf told the earliest version of The Stand. Its pretty amazing to be able to look back and see where some of his greatest ideas came from.

Night Shift is pretty damn good.

But Skeleton Crew is great.

Skeleton Crew includes some of my favorite short stories. The Mist. The Raft. Gramma. These stories ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED ME when I was in middle school. And they still scare me today. Gramma is a slow-paced, dread-filled bit of horror perfection, with an ending that never fails to surprise me.

My two all-time, absolutely favorite short stories are in here: Mrs. Todd’s Shortcut and The Jaunt.

Mrs. Todd’s Shortcut tells about a wealthy woman who summers in Maine, and loves finding ways to cut a few minutes off of whatever trip she’s about to take. She obsesses over maps and farm roads, and eventually she discovers new ways to get there from here, some of which may not be of this world. I loved reading about her little Mercedes convertible zipping along the country roads of Maine and the roads that just might be on other levels of the Tower.

The Jaunt is about a family about to travel to Mars to resettle on a new colony there. As they prepare to be put to sleep in order to teleport, the father of the family tells his children the history of the procedure known as The Jaunt — and one of his kids decides to test the rules of teleportation, with shocking results. Right now I’m listening to the last Dark Tower book, and its easy to see some of The Jaunt in there — the Doors, the Todash Darkness, teleportation at the Algul Siento — all of those plot lines have their seeds here.

I just pulled Everything’s Eventual and Nightmares & Dreamscapes off of the bookshelf, which I haven’t reread since they first came out. I look forward to seeing how his stories have evolved over the decades. And I hope I can find a sunny corner to read them in.






“I wanted to say goodbye to someone, and have someone say goodbye to me. The goodbyes we speak and the goodbyes we hear are the goodbyes that tell us we’re still alive.” CBR10 Review 12.

UnknownI think its safe to say that I’m addicted to my Audible account. Driving around all day and meeting with demanding clients is hard, so the best thing I can do is lose myself in a great story and a great narrator. And I think that’s why I keep coming back to these Dark Tower books…the narration is great, the story always delivers something new for me, and it really doesn’t matter if I hear every single detail or not, because I’m stuck on Ka’s wheel and I know I’ll be returning to this story before long.

Wolves of the Calla is still my favorite of these books. I think. I like that it takes place in a certain amount of time, with a specific objective, instead of some of the more sprawling volumes of this story, which require a bit more brain power. This one is easier: good guys come to a good town to help defeat the bad guys and save the children. The end.

Of course, there’s more to it than that. We also have an alternate personality pregnancy…An obsession with the number 19…A fascinating new/old character who warns us of the dangers of vampires and low men…and the idea that maybe this story only exists as a fictional story within a fictional story so that Stephen King can save the world. Like I said, easy.

The more that I read (or, honestly, listen to) this volume of the Dark Tower, the more I appreciate the addition of Pere Donald Callahan. His addition to Roland’s group of questing gunslingers comes at exactly the right time. His heartbreaking story of his cowardly flight from Jerusalem’s Lot, his years of drinking on the road, his work at the shelter, and his eventual death and re-appearance in Mid-World (along with a mysterious black ball) are fascinating and gorgeously presented. This is a man of faith who is questioning his path in life, and who finds exactly what he is looking for when Roland and friends appear in the Calla.

My favorite Callahan bit:

“Your man Jesus seems to me a bit of a son of a bitch when it comes to women,´Roland said. ´Was He ever married?´
The corners of Callahan’s mouth quirked. ´No´ he said, ´but His girlfriend was a whore.´
´Well,´ Roland said, ´that’s a start.´”

But this book isn’t perfect. I love it, but there are a few details that bug me to no end:

  • Suddenly everyone is obsessed with the number 19, which we only know because we are constantly told about it. I wish this had been presented a bit more organically. I fell like Uncle Stevie just decided it was important and then hit us over the head with it until we succumbed.
  • Roland is always making a “familiar” finger twirling motion, that HE ALWAYS MAKES AND HAS ALWAYS MADE AND MAKES ALL THE TIME. But he never made it before. And the constant references to the fact that he has always done this bug me.
  • The pregnancy stuff is really just gross. I don’t need to know about Susannah frolicking in a pond and eating live frogs. I know that’s really nit picking, but I couldn’t get past it.

But there’s so much more that I love in this book. I love the idea of saving the twins, no matter what. And I love the regular people that are willing to stand up to evil, even if it might cost them their lives, to save their town and its children. The action and excitement in this volume are exactly what the series needed after the talky Wizard and Glass.



If you like sociopaths and unreliable narrators, then have I got a book for you! CBR10 Review 11.

Unknown-4Amber wants nothing more than to live the way she thinks she deserves. She wants it all — wealth and jewels and real estate, with a rich handsome husband on her arm. In her mind, this dream life is owed to her, because her early life was one of poverty and despair. So just let her have this, ok?

And it doesn’t matter if the house she wants has people living in it. Or if the man she wants is married to someone else. She wants it so she deserves it so don’t worry about the details.

Amber moves from rural Nebraska to a wealthy Connecticut (think Greenwich, but MORE) town on the Long Island Sound, and she sets her plan in action. She’s found the biggest house and the richest, most handsome man. Her goal is to become the next Mrs. Jackson Parrish, and the first step in her horrific plan is to befriend and get rid of the current Mrs. Jackson Parrish.

I read this for my PTA moms book club and I can’t decide if it was fun or scary. The main characters have no redeeming traits and act in increasingly insane ways as the book goes on. One ridiculous act after another, these idiots really outdo each other. Everything is awful.

And of course, I couldn’t put this down. The writing is compelling…mostly in a DID SHE REALLY JUST SAY THAT? way. Reading this was like taking all of the craziest parts of Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train and all novels by Dominick Dunne and every single Tori Spelling movie and jamming them all together to create the ultimate Lifetime Movie Frankenstein’s Monster.

The ridiculous wealth and the abhorrent behaviors were really almost too much. But once I had an idea about what was going on, I had to read until the end. Mostly because there were children involved. I needed to see what happened to the kids.

Would I recommend this a piece of literature? No. But do you need a book to read while waiting in the doctor’s office or on a plane? Then sure! Highly recommend! Its crazy and unputdownable. (NB: I love that my spell check now accepts that as an actual word.)


If you’re going to judge a book by its cover, this should be the one. CBR10 Review 10.

UnknownAs an 8-time Cannonballer, I can’t believe this is the first Leigh Bardugo book I’ve ever picked up. I think I’ve meant to read some of her stuff before…but I guess life just got in my way.

I first heard about this book when the great Rainbow Rowell was raving about its utter gorgeousness on her Instagram. I had never heard the term “progressive illustrations” before, so my interest was quickly piqued. (FYI, a progressive illustration is exactly what it sounds like. In this book of short fairy tales, the margins of each page are illustrated with additional art as the story goes on…so that at the end of the story, a full and glorious picture wraps around the entire page.)

The art is absolutely stunning. I borrowed this from the library, but will be buying a copy of my own.

But what of the stories? Yeah, they’re pretty amazing, too.

Dark and unsettling, with an Eastern European flair (I read that they take place in the world of her Grishaverse books), Bardugo’s six fairy tales are more Grimm than Disney.

My favorite was The Witch of Duva, which had a little bit of a Hansel and Gretel feel to it. Nadya lives in a village where sometimes, the forest eats little girls. When famine comes to town, her beloved mother sacrifices herself so that Nadya and her brother have more to eat and can survive the long winter. Nadya’s father, a cheerful carpenter, then marries a local widow, and Nadya is positive she is an evil witch, potentially responsible for the deaths of all of the local girls.

When Nadya’s new stepmother begins to threaten her, Nadya heads for the forest and eventually finds herself the apprentice of a real witch, a kind woman who feeds her and teaches her and keeps her safe.

But this is a dark tale, so the ending didn’t go the way I expected it to, and the ending wasn’t happy. But man, it was good. Get it, read it, savor it. Its lovely.







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