Review: Truck: A Love Story, by Michael Perry

Truck: a Love Story
Truck: a Love Story
by Michael Perry
Harper Perennial, 320 pages
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Several days ago in this blog, I mentioned that I had an “author crush” on Michael Perry. I’m currently reading his most recent book, Coop which will be reviewed over at All Things Girl, but I wanted to make sure I talked about the last book of his that I read: Truck: a Love Story.

If the title of the book isn’t enough of a hook, consider that this book really is a love story. Actually it’s three love stories. One, is of the teenage Mike’s love of the fictional character Irma Harding, who was created to be the face of International Harvester, in the 1950s. The second, and the one that provides the continuity in this book, is the author’s love of a vintage International Harvester pickup truck, and his journey through its restoration. The third, most poignant, is of his relationship and eventual marriage to his wife Anneleise, and his fatherly love for her young daughter, Amy.

As usual, Michael Perry tells his story with a lot of warmth and an equal measure of humor. He may be a guy who grew up in rural Wisconsin, but he’s also incredibly bright. Much of the humor is self deprecating – he’s sort of power-tool impaired, for example – but some of it comes from the juxtaposition of a green tea drinking, NPR- and jazz listening writer who is also a fire fighter and amateur farmer.

Because this is a memoir, there really isn’t a plot, but Perry does an excellent job of condensing several events into a coherent narrative.

In short, his memoirs ride the fine line of being candid and creative nonfiction.

And I can’t get enough of them.

Review: Hollywood Monster by Robert Englund

Hollywood Monster
Hollywood Monster: a Walk Down Elm Street with the Man of Your Dreams
by Robert Englund, with Alan Goldsher
Pocket, 304 pages
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I have a memory from when I was twelve or thirteen (but probably twelve): I was sitting in the living room with my mother, stepfather, and stepbrother, textbooks strewn all around us on the floor, watching this movie called V, about aliens coming to earth to steal water and eat people. Mike Donovan, played by Marc Singer, was supposed to be the sex symbol in the show, but I was a geek, even then, and it was the friendly alien, Willie, that caught my attention. That was my first introduction to Robert Englund.

Two years later, had seen all of the V mini-series, and was excited to find out about an upcoming weekly series. I’d also seen one of Englund’s horror movies, Galaxy of Terror (notable for its weirdly impressive cast, and the scene in which Erin “Joanie Cunningham” Moran gets raped by a giant maggot), and was about to be introduced to another of this actor’s iconic characters, one Freddy Krueger, for the first time. While I was never the type of fangirl who wrote letters or anything, I’ll cop to having a crush on Robert Englund from the age of twelve. But we knew I was weird.

Knowing this, it should come as no surprise that when I read on Englund’s website (RobertEnglund.com) that he was publishing a memoir, and that one could buy regular copies from Amazon.com and regular booksellers, or pay a little more for a signed copy, I quickly whipped out my paypal ID, and ordered a signed copy. That was in October. On Halloween (appropriate, no?) I received an autographed photo of Robert Englund as Freddy, with an apologetic note that my copy would be delayed.

Things happened, and all of a sudden, I realized it was almost MARCH, and I’d never received my book. I sent a note to the customer service address, and received an email back that evening, that my order would be “checked on.” That was exactly a week ago, Sunday, February 28th. On Wednesday, March 3rd, I found my book in the mailbox. The cardboard priority mail envelope had been slashed as if by Freddy Krueger’s glove (not intentionally, I’m certain), and the post office had encased it in plastic, but the book was in bubble wrap, and unharmed. I read through all the postcards inside it, looked inside for the autograph (it came with an accompanying doodle of Freddy, drawn by Mr. Englund himself), and then left for Bible Study (and don’t think I don’t recognize a bit of irony in THAT).

I arrived home, did a bit of work, and then settled in to read.

By the time Fuzzy came to bed, I was two-thirds of the way through with the book, and I succumbed to the call and turned on a booklight, so I could finish it before going to sleep.

But, I promised a review. So:

Robert Englund’s memoir of his childhood entry into acting, and his resulting career as a character actor and horror movie icon is a delightful read. Candid and funny, it flows like a really good conversation, leaving you with the feeling that you’ve heard some great stories and sipped some excellent beer. The ghost writer/editor who helped shape the book was able to make everything sound like the voice Englund uses in interviews – a weird combination of erudition, cynicism, and charm, gregariousness. This is a man who takes his craft seriously, but doesn’t take himself too seriously.

I enjoyed learning more about the series of events that led Robert to the role of scream god Freddy Krueger, and about his relationship with role over the years. As much as I’m a bit disappointed that he won’t be reprising the part in the remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street due out this summer, I’ve read enough interviews stating that he’s okay with that decision, that I believe he is, and frankly, I’m enjoying catching him in dark, quirky parts that don’t require him to look like a mangled pizza.

While Hollywood Monster is probably best appreciated by fans, it’s such a great read that even non-fans would probably enjoy it. In fact, I don’t think it feels like a celebrity memoir at all. But then, it shouldn’t, because even though his job site is generally a movie set, Englund describes himself as a “working stiff,” and his book serves to remind us that working actors come in many, many flavors.

Personally, I like the dark, sardonic ones, best.

Review: The Longest Trip Home by John Grogan

The Longest Trip Home
The Longest Trip home
John Grogan
Get it from Amazon.com >>

It’s weird the way some books fall into your life exactly at the right moment. For example, the day after I got home from my recent trip to New York and New Jersey, on a flight where I resorted to actually reading the different ads all professing to be about the best weight loss pills, or coolest diving watch, or whatever, because I just wasn’t in the mood for the book I had with me, I found Dracula: the Un-Dead, a new “Magic Kingdom” novel from Terry Brooks, Sarah’s Key (which the woman across the aisle of the plane swore was a great novel despite being a Holocaust story), and John “Marley and Me” Grogan’s latest memoir, The Longest Trip Home.

I reviewed the Dracula book earlier this week, and finished Sarah’s Key the next day, though I haven’t posted the review yet (look for it on Tuesday), and I finished the Grogan book yesterday. It is that book that seemed perfectly time.

First, I have to share, in case I hadn’t, that I love Grogan’s writing style. I never read his columns, but I loved Marley and Me as much for his storytelling capabilities as because I’m a sucker for a good dog story.

Second, like Mr. Grogan, though to a lesser degree, I’m “culturally Catholic.” My Italian-American relatives still watch the news in Italian (from their plastic-wrapped New Jersey living room), and have palm crosses stuffed between the pages of the Bible and the Dictionary, and pictures of the Pope above the TV. My grandmother kept her rosary beads at her bedside, even after she was mostly senile, and while I have serious issues with the politics of the Catholic Church, I will always have a special place in my heart for the ritual, the music, and the “smells and bells.”

But this isn’t my general blog, so let me talk about the book.

The Longest Trip Home is about Grogan’s life, growing up as a good Catholic boy in the Michigan suburbs, and growing away from his family and his religion as he became an adult, a journalist, and a husband and father.

It’s a linear book, tracing the author’s life in mostly-chronological order, and if there’s a focus on the funnier side of things, I can’t blame him – humor connects us in ways straight facts cannot.

From his stint as altar boy to his founding of an underground paper in high school, to his first meeting with the woman who ultimately became his wife, Grogan shares his life in fairly candid language, with some concessions made for the protection of real people.

Most poignant, is the last quarter of the book, where Grogan must deal with the aging of his parents, and eventual death of his father, but while some of it is sad, none of it is ever maudlin.

It’s a wonderful memoir, and an entertaining read, but for me, personally, it was also validation of this habit of clinging emotionally to Catholic roots even if we don’t cling to the modern form of the religion.

I hope John Grogan continues to write books.
I’ll be first in line for his next offering.

Coming Attractions: Drinking with George by George Wendt

Drinking with George: A Barstool Professional’s Guide to Beer
George Wendt
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One of my favorite parts about my work with online magazine All Things Girl is that I often get to review books before they come out, so that I can interview the authors.

Recently, George Wendt, whom most people probably recognize as “Norm” from “Cheers,” wrote a book that was half memoir, half ode to beer. I was given a galley so I could prep for an interview, and spent all night last Tuesday reading it. The interview was Wednesday evening, and both the book and the man were delightful: funny, smart, and totally engaging.

Let’s face it: beer is as important to American culture as novocain is to a Plano dentist, but it’s not something we generally read about. In the case of Drinking with George, however, skipping the book would be a literary sin, not because it’s high art, but because it’s the real story of a real guy’s love of the brew.

The fact that the book is filled with interesting beer factoids doesn’t hurt, either.

Look for Mr. Wendt as the All Things Girl Man of the Moment in October, and look for my review of his book in the ATG blog sometime after the first of the month.

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.

Book Review: Dove by Robin L. Graham

Dove
by Robin L. Graham
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I bought the book Dove shortly after re-reading Maiden Voyage, because it kept showing up on Amazon’s list of “people who bought this book also liked…” and reading about people going to see on sailing ships is a welcome respite from the world of articles about auto insurance quotes that I generally inhabit.

After reading it, I’m a bit disappointed, because it didn’t have the same pull for me that Aeibi’s book did, but overall I thought it was an interesting tale of a young man who didn’t really fit in the conventional world, finding himself on the sea.

Where Aebi’s Maiden Voyage happened during a time when she and I were of a similar age, Dove takes place in the late sixties, and there are minor cultural issues – generally the treatment of Polynesian people and culture – that I found a little disturbing.

For the most part, however, Dove (which is the name of author Graham’s boat), is a grand adventure, with a bit of nostalgia mixed in.

Sunday Salon: Ship-shape

The Sunday Salon.com

I realize that I’m actually writing this on Monday evening. I’m either slightly late for yesterday, or really early for the 30th, but either way I was mulling this over yesterday, but never manage to post it.

My reading this week has been a leisurely revisiting of one of my favorite books, Maiden Voyage, by Tania Aebi. It’s the memoir of the author’s two-year trip around the world as the solo handler of a sailboat. She wrote it twenty years ago, and I bought it when it was new, and have re-read it a few times, over the years.

I’m not sure why this book resonates so with me. Part of it, I think, is that I love the ocean in a way that most people who don’t sail rarely do. Part of it is that the romance of being alone on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean appeals – and the risk. Part of it is that I relish the coziness of a ship’s bunk with a small furry animal for company, and reading myself to sleep as the waves gently rock me.

There are, of course, moments I do not wish to experience, even vicariously. At one point, Aebi describes having an earache in the middle of the ocean, and how she heats a sock-full of salt and holds it against her ear. Another tale in the book is the relatively brief mention of a fellow sailor’s issue with a toothache, and how he basically gets drunk so he won’t care, since it’s not exactly like there are orange nj cosmetic dentists hanging in the tropics. Or if there are, they’re sailing, too, and not seeing patients.

Mostly, though, I recognize that I, who considers “roughing it” to be a hotel without room service or wifi, and who can’t even sit through movies where people are cold, wet, tired, hungry, dirty and lacking toilet paper, would probably not be happy for more than a day or two than the minimalist conditions Tania Aebi seemed to thrive upon, as much as I like to imagine I might.

For Tania Aebi, Maiden Voyage represents two years of her life, twenty years ago.

For me, it’s several hours of reading enjoyment and lovely dreams about sailing, which is, after all, what reading is all about.

In Progress: Animals In Translation by Temple Grandin

My birthday was last Monday (the 17th), and, as usual, I received a book from my aunt in Connecticut. In recent years she’s been sending more non-fiction than fiction, but I’m not sure that’s intentional.

In any case, she knows that there is no drug rehab equivalent for bibliophiles, and really, as addictions go, reading is a pretty safe one. I mean, what other substance sends you to a bookstore or library when you’re jonesing for a fix? How often do you see a voracious reader begging on the street corner, “Man, I just need a dollar for another book?”

But I digress.

My birthday book this year is Animals in Translation, by Temple Grandin. I’m barely into it, but already I’m fascinated. It’s about how people with autism respond to animals, often understanding them on levels that neuro-typical humans cannot. I’m reading it as a dog-lover and animal rescue volunteer who loves animals, but apparently this book is quite well regarded. In fact, I found a link to it on the PLoS Biology website, in which the editors actually asked Ms. Grandin to respond to something they’d posted. The complete article is here.

It’s all really interesting, and makes me look at my dogs in a new light. I’ll review the book when I’ve finished with it, of course, but I wanted to share what I have in progress for a change.

Review: The Missing Keys to Thriving in Any Real Estate Market by Eddie Godshalk, MBA


The Missing Keys to Thriving in Any Real Estate Market: How to Create Wealth in Any Community Using Street Analysis Technology
Eddie Godshalk, MBA
Get it at Amazon

If you’ve never working in any aspect of the real estate market, you may not think Eddie Godshalk’s book, The Missing Keys to Thriving in Any Real Estate Market, is for you. You’d be wrong, because while the last part of the book, which explains his Home Value Predictor, is aimed at real estate professionals, the first part is a thorough explanation of why the housing market has tanked, why there are so many foreclosures, and how some of the financial strife related to real estate finance could have been averted.

Even better, Godshalk explains the history of housing bubbles, how they work, why they work, and what’s happening now, in accessible language that anyone can understand, even if they’ve never taken a single finance course.

After reading his book, you’ll have a better understanding not just of the big picture, but also of the smaller sections – like why your own home is worth what it is, and why you may not be able to refinance any time soon.

If, on the other hand, you are a real estate professional, whether you’re a Realtor, broker, lender, or appraiser, you’ll finish The Missing Keys… with a better understanding of the industry in which you work, and you’ll also be armed with powerful tools that will help both you and your client.

Once such tool is Godshalk’s Home Value Predictor, which you can learn about in-depth at HomeValuePredictor.com.

As someone who worked as a mortgage loan processor and underwriter for half her life, I can honestly say that while I was asked to review Mr. Godshalk’s book, I wish I’d had it to offer every client I worked with – especially those taking subprime loans, because it should be required reading for homeowners and real estate professionals alike.

Review: Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl by Susan McCorkindale


Confessions of a Counterfeit Farm Girl
Susan McCorkindale
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I picked up Susan McCorkindale’s humorous memoir on a whim, largely because the blurb on the back cover mentioned something about living miles away from any Starbucks. As someone who has had that experience, and who considers “roughing it” to be a hotel that has neither wifi nor room service, I thought it would be something I’d enjoy.

I was not disappointed.

This book is McCorkindale’s snarky spin on what happens when a girl from New Jersey leaves her cushy job as the head of marketing for a well-known magazine, and moves, with her testosterone-laden husband and sons, to a farm in West Virginia. From her comments on local couture (or lack thereof) to her tales of catalog shopping – not for Dansko womens shoes, but for beauty aids, bikinis, and (later) chickens, everything is hilarious, but it’s hilarity tempered by her obvious love of her family.

While this book is probably best enjoyed by women with children, or women who regularly read Family Circle, there’s enough in it for those of us who only have dogs to enjoy.