Catch-Up Day

Yesterday at book club, several friends asked me questions about the blog. So, answers:

Miriam Randall, my friend's mother who was terribly injured in that awful car crash last summer, is doing extraordinarily well. Her initial recovery was slowed a bit by emergency gall bladder surgery, but she's now home. A month ago her daughter sent me a photo of her and her husband at a concert. If you prayed for her back when, thank you. I don't think anyone thought she would make it.

Huey, Dewey, and Louie are in fact my nephews, but they are not named anything like Huey, Dewey, or Louie. I'm told to expect to become an aunt for the fourth time. I'm not sure what we'll call the troop after that. Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Bob?

Bristol Faith in Action is busier than ever. We've recently added 8 interviews per week, and we're still scheduling clients over a week after they call. We've never had a backlog like this before. If you'd like to know more about our work, stop by the building, any time Tuesday-Friday from 10 am until 2 pm.

My new novel, The War That Saved My Life, is scheduled for release in March 2015, which does in fact feel like a hundred years from now. I'm hard at work on the sequel, which doesn't have a title yet. (I'm not even really used to the first book having a title. In my head I still call it the English book.)

Now, a recap on my library books from a few weeks ago:

Snobs, by Julian Fellowes.  Yuck. I was right not to buy it. The man writes brilliantly, but this called to mind an editorial letter I once received: "This doesn't seem to have a plot. See if you can add one." Only, unlike me, he didn't.

The Shadow of the Wind, by Carols Ruiz Zafon. Very interesting. I renewed it as I'm not finished yet. It's nearly 500 pages long, and written in this lush, florid language, utterly unlike anything I've read before.

Happy City: Transforming Our Lives Through Urban Design, by Charles Montgomery. Sounded cool, and it was. Of course since I don't live in a city none of it applies much to me..

Love Wins for Teens, by Rob Bell. The problem with books like this is that when they say "For Teens" they usually mean they've dumbed-down the adult book and added a lot of hip cultural references. I gave it back and will look for the "For Adults" book in future.

A Surrey State of Mind, by Ceri Radford. Not even close to a smut book, nor remotely interesting. When the narrator bores you on page 3 the book is doomed.

The Butler, by Wil Haygood. The book must have been based on the movie, not the other way around. Interesting but very slight.

Extreme Couponing, by Joni Meyer-Crothers. Speaking of slight, this very small volume with very large type contained a "recap" of every chapter--basically, repeating everything in the chapter-so that it would be long enough that some fool would pay money for it. I got nothing from it.

Dog Songs, by Mary Oliver. Every single poem about a dog. I guess I should have guessed that.

Openly Straight, by Bill Konigsburg.  Fantastic. Really one of the better teen novels I've read.

Someone, by Alice Dermott. Didn't end up having the energy to tackle this alongside The Shadow of the Wind, so I returned it, but will check it out again.

Zealot, the Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth, by Reza Aslan. Fascinating, very readable, really good. I just want to know what his reputation as a historian is, so I know how seriously to take him.

Rude Bitches Make Me Tired, by Celia Riverbank.  Funny, funny. I went to get more of her books out of the library only to find that one of my friends named Karen (I have an extraordinary number of friends named Karen) already checked it out.