Teaser Tuesdays: Cleaving: a Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession

On Teaser Tuesdays readers are asked to:

  • Grab your current read.
  • Let the book fall open to a random page.
  • Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between 7 and 12 lines.
  • You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given.

Sometimes the most effective diet pill isn’t a pill at all, but a bloody scene involving dead meat and sharp knives. I received Julie Powell’s second book on Tuesday (and why, pray tell, is Amazon suddenly using Velocity Express and requiring signatures?) afternoon, and couldn’t resist peeking at it, even though I have other books in progress, because I loved Julia and Julia, when I originally read it just after it came out in hardcover.

Here, then, even though it’s now Thursday morning, is my “Tuesday Teaser,” from Cleaving: a Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession, by Julie Powell (page 43):

So I’ve told you a little bit about seams, those networks of filament that both connect muscles and define the boundary between them. Now, the difficulty is that seams can be thick, or they can be thin. The seam of a tenderloin, for instance, is very thin indeed, and therefore hard to follow. It’s easy to lose your way, which is apt to make you nervous, seeing as how the tenderloin is the single most expensive cut of meat on the steer, thirty-nine bucks a pound at Fleisher’s. If you lose the seam in one direction you waste tenderloin, and there’s only something like eight pounds of it per animal. If you lose it in the other direction, especially right at the head of the muscle, what’s called the “chateaubriand,” you cut into the eye of the sirloin, another expensive cut, and one that short-tempered chefs won’t buy mangled. Beginning butchers, needless to say, don’t get assigned to pull out many tenderloins.

Mini-Review: The Art of Racing in the Rain

Art of Racing in the Rain
The Art of Racing in the Rain
by Garth Stein
Harper, 321 pages
Get it from Amazon >>

I have such a backlog of books to review that there are likely to be endless days of me sitting up late writing little blurbs until the dark circles under my eyes are permanent. Well, I’ve always had minor goth tendencies.

In any case, The Art of Racing in the Rain is a lovely, sad book by Garth Stein about a dog, his person, and the concept of the souls we love never truly leaving us. It’s told as much from the dog’s perspective as the man’s, and I’ve had to put it down more than once while reading it because it was too close to issues with some of my own dogs.

If you love animals, and can stand a good cry, this novel is worth a read.

Lost: One Book

I lost a book somewhere in my house.

Worse, I lost a book I promised to review, while I was in the middle of reading it. The book in question is Whom God Would Destroy, by Commander Pants, which I posted a teaser from sometime in the last month or so. It was really enjoying it, because it was making me think AND making me laugh – a combination which I generally cannot resist.

I have this horrible feeling it got slipped into a stack of shipping boxes (incoming, not outgoing) and is upstairs in the library, buried in a pile, but I looked, and don’t remember seeing it.

Speaking of boxes, however, I have found something to read in the meanwhile: The Ghost and Mrs. McClure, by Alice Kimberly. This is the first in Kimberly’s “Haunted Bookshop” series, and I know it will be good because I know that Alice Kimberly is also Cleo Coyle, who writes the Coffeehouse Mysteries I love so much.

I’m enjoying this book a lot, but I’d rather find the other, and finish it, before moving on entirely.

Review: Dracula: the Un-Dead by Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt

Dracula: the Un-Dead
Dracula: the Un-Dead
by Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt
Get it at Amazon >>

It’s October, and even though the temperature is bouncing between hot and cool in much the same fashion as the ball on a ping pong table, there is still a bite to the air, and something indefinable that always comes as Halloween draws nearer. It’s an appropriate time, then, to revisit a classic horror tale. It’s an even better time to experience such a tale in a new way, which is what I did over the weekend, as I immersed myself in Dracula: the Un-Dead, the official unofficial sequel to Bram Stoker’s original novel.

Co-authors Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt do an excellent job of weaving their tale with Bram’s original, and with blending familiar characters with new ones. In this novel, however, Dracula isn’t the villain the original Stoker (Dacre’s great-granduncle) portrayed him to be – though, in all truth – neither is he sweetness and light. Mina Harker (nee Murray) is also painted with a slightly different brush. In this version of the story, which picks up 25 years after the Transylvanian Count’s apparent demise, she and old Vlad consummated their relationship in more ways than just the drinking of blood, and young Quincey Harker is not Jonathon’s son, but his.

Mother and son aren’t exactly the best of friends, however, especially since the younger Harker wants to pursue a career on the stage, and not in Jonathon’s failing law firm, while Mom doesn’t seem to be aging the way a respectable woman should. This latter is also a bone of contention between Mina and her husband.

It’s not just the Harkers who figure into this sequel, however. We see Seward, Holmwood and Van Helsing all dealing in completely different ways with the aftermath of their earlier adventure.

New characters enrich the tale in this novel. Notable among them is Inspector Cotford, a Lestrade-like police detective who is working the Dracula case while also trying to solve the mostly-cold case of Jack the Ripper. His associates are given names that vampire fans of the modern era will find either amusing or jarring, perhaps both. One is Price, but I’ll not reveal the others. Suffice to say that in-jokes abound.

All in all, Dracula: the Un-Dead was both satisfying and entertaining.

Even better, Stoker and Holt have left open the possibility of another sequel.

Book Review: Indigo Awakening

Indigo Awakening: A Doctor’s Memoir of Forging an Authentic Life in a Turbulent World
by Dr. Janine Talty, DO
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Before Janine Talty became a doctor, her life wasn’t exactly a downtown Disney hotel. A social misfit, dyslexic to the point of being almost aphasic, and the recipient of several metaphysical gifts, like being able to communicate telepathically with her father, and certain others, and a preternatural way with animals and humans in need of care, hers was not a story I thought I would enjoy.

I am more pleased than you could possibly imagine to be able to say I was wrong. From the moment I finished the first two pages of Indigo Awakening, I was hooked.

It helped that Talty grew up in places I’m familiar with – she went to high school in the town where I learned to be a barista, for example, and frequented the same beaches I used to, in Santa Cruz and Capitola. What grabbed me, however, was the simplicity of her narrative style, and the complexity of her journey.

Talty begins each chapter with advice to other indigos – children and adults who have similar gifts, and who tend to display a lot of indigo in their auras – children and adults who feel they’ve been put on earth to serve a purpose, to help and guide – even if – like her – they aren’t entirely certain what that purpose is.

After the advice, each section tells of one part of her life, and she doesn’t hold her punches. She’s candid about the pain she endured (unbeknownst to her parents) in elementary school, but she also shares her delight when she solves a problem with a rescued animal, figuring out, for example, how to feed a bird with a severe neck wound.

Describing this book is impossible. It’s memoir, yes, and spiritual journal, but it’s also a lesson from someone who has the power of knowing, and an affirmation of the human spirit. It’s the kind of thing you might think is too “woo-woo” to be believed, and yet, you’ll find yourself nodding as you read about past lives, ley lines, and energy exchanges. Or at least – I found myself nodding.

I don’t think I’m an indigo, but I’ve always been a bit of a misfit, and that common ground, and my love of mystery and folklore, allowed me to find common ground with Dr. Talty.

I suspect most readers, especially women, will do the same.

Booking through Thursday: Hot

btt2

On Thursday, June 25th, Booking through Thursday asked:

Now that summer is here (in the northern hemisphere, anyway), what is the most “Summery” book you can think of? The one that captures the essence of summer for you?

(I’m not asking for you to list your ideal “beach reading,” you understand, but the book that you can read at any time of year but that evokes “summer.”)

For me, it’s not just one book, but the works of one author, Anne Rivers Siddons, that give me that summery feeling. I consider her a “guilty pleasure” author at times, but I love her books because she’s an excellent storyteller who writes great women characters, and blends enough detail about things like clothing, jewelry, and room decor, with plot, setting, and subtext.

While I’ve enjoyed all of Siddon’s work, my favorites are the novels that take place at the coast – either in the Carolinas (Low Country, Up Island), or New England (Colony, Off Season) that draw me most, at least in part because I miss the shore so much.

Review: Love and Biology at the Center of the Universe, by Jennie Shortridge


Love and Biology at the Center of the Universe
Jennie Shortridge
Get it at Amazon >>

When I first picked up Love and Biology… at Half Price Books, I thought it would be exactly the kind of read I was looking for. After all, it’s about a woman who flees her troubled marriage and goes to work in a popular bakery/cafe in Seattle. “Oh,” I thought, “there will be rain and coffee and romance and she’ll find herself and be independent.”

Well there is rain, and coffee, and romance, but somehow this novel isn’t quite what I hoped. I mean – I don’t hate it, I just think the characters need depth. Mira Serafino, for example, is very much a stereotype of Italian-American women of a certain age (one older than my own), with a young daughter (young but grown – we’re beyond the age of acne treatments), a teaching position she doesn’t seem to particularly like, and a marriage in which she’s grown complacent, and her identity seems completely centered on home and hearth.

There’s nothing wrong with that, but I was hoping for something in the vein of Bread Alone and got something more like Francesca’s Kitchen.

So I did what I always do when a book doesn’t fit: I set it aside to re-read later. I picked it up again recently because I needed bathtub reading, and was able to get more into Mira’s story – and the coffee shop scenes are well written, but I can’t shake the feeling that this book could have been something more, or that I’m missing the point.

Coming Soon: Julie & Julia – the Movie!

I never formally reviewed Julie & Julia, by Julie Powell, but I’ve read it twice and recommended to friends who like to read and friends who like to cook. In fact, it inspired me to read Julia Child’s My Life in France, as well.

I’ve been hearing murmurs about the upcoming movie for a while, but kept forgetting to look for trailers. I just did, and found out that the trailer was released on April 29th, and the movie is coming on August 7th, just ten days before my birthday. I shall consider it an early birthday present, especially as it stars Meryl Streep and Amy Adams.

But don’t take my word for it, watch the trailer:

Review: Off Season, by Anne Rivers Siddons


Off Season
by Anne Rivers Siddons
Get it from Amazon >>

I’m not sure if I introduced Anne Rivers Siddons’ work to my mother, or if she introduced it to me, but when you want something a little bit beachy and a little bit romantic, with vibrant women characters, no one beats her. This is especially true of her most recent book, Off Season.

In this novel, we are once again on the coast of New England, this time in Maine, in Carters Cove, following the life of a feisty girl named Lilly as she meets her first love (at the tender age of eleven), keeps tabs on the local osprey population, and does gymnastics in the basement gym built by her father.

As she grows up, we see her relationship with her artist-mother, her marriage to the devoted Cam, an architect, and the birth of her children, but her dog, Wilma, and the summer home in Maine are Lilly’s two touchstones, and at time function as additional characters.

Siddons excels at these gentle, dreamy stories of individual women, most of whom are somehow artistic, and the strong, complicated men they marry, and even when her tales veer into implausibility, they still leave you with the sense that you’ve read a really satisfying story.

Goes well with: Ice cold lemonade, a porch swing, and a cotton throw rug.

Book Review: Nights in Rodanthe, by Nicholas Sparks

Nights in RodantheNights in Rodanthe
Nicholas Sparks
Get it from Amazon.

When it comes to Nicholas Sparks novels, I generally prefer the movies. It’s not that he’s a bad writer, particularly – people seem to love his work – but I can’t quite grasp all the fuss. His stories tend to be on the sad side, he explores broken relationships an awful lot…I must be missing something.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed reading Nights in Rodanthe over a period of a couple of nights, as it was the perfect book to read in the bath. Two divorced adults, both needing a new love interest, a rambling old bed and breakfast, a violent storm – bubblebath fodder on every page.

I even appreciate that the ending wasn’t perfect, that this was a much more plausible story than, say, a Silhouette novel.

But I still can’t see WHY Sparks’ work is so popular, because, to be honest, I’m underwhelmed.

(And no, I have NOT seen the movie.)

Goes well with: Candlelight, a bubblebath, and driving rain.