The Graveyard Book – Neil Gaiman


Fear is contagious. You can catch it. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to say that they’re scared for the fear to become real.

I feel like these always start off with me apologizing for how long it took me to finish the book. We all know that life gets in the way of the small pleasures, so I shall do my best not to apologize any more. I am human, after all.

This book was given to my fiance by his dad quite a few months ago and then was recommended to me by his dad about a month ago. I had seen it kicking around the house and had wanted to pick it up, but there’s always something next in the queue. But isn’t there always going to be? I had read Stardust many years back having loved the movie and going to see it multiple times on my own and with Craig. I still reach for it after a long day and when I need a smile. The book was a different story. I won’t go in to detail, but I wasn’t a huge fan of the book. I thought the movie did a better job at fleshing out the characters and wrapping things up. The same goes for this book, although there isn’t a movie based on the book…yet.

Nodody Owens has lived in the graveyard his entire life, having stumbled upon it as a small child while his family was being murdered in the house he used to live in. He is given the freedom of the graveyard and there the ghosts that live there protect him. His “parents” Mr. and Mrs. Owens along with his guardian, Silas, are charged with the well being of Nobody. Silas is the character that I was most interested in and he doesn’t disappoint in his “fatherly” wisdom.

As any young child will do, Nodbody gets in to all kinds of shenanigans, albeit not the kind that a normal child would. Romping with ghouls and werewolfs. Underneath it all The Graveyard Book is a wonderful little book that makes you think about your life and the way you live it. It did leave quite a few things unanswered for me, but I still enjoyed it and will recommend it to anyone who is looking for an easy read. Me? I’m still trying to figure out if Mr.Gaiman is my cup of tea.

Next up, friends, is another Jobeth recommended book and she hasn’t let me down yet! Stay tuned. I’m sure I’ll finish this next one in a flash.

Dark Places- Gillian Flynn


The truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty – we all have it.

I had been waiting for this book to be returned to the library for months! I just couldn’t ever synch up my reading with when someone was returning it, in short, everyone wanted this book. After Gillian Flynn’s runaway hit Gone Girl went to the big screen the demand for her books has been high, and after reading this one I understand why.

Dark Places is written in a style that I love! Every chapter is told from a different character’s perspective and even jumps time periods to do so. I always feel like I’m getting more of the story this way. The three main narrators are Libby Day (present), Ben Day (past), and Patty Day (past). That would be her older brother and her mother, respectively. While Libby is in the present grappling with the after math of her families mass murder; Ben and Patty are in the past just days away from the fateful day and as tension mounts so does the desperation in the chapters.

Patty Day has been trying to keep her family of five running smoothly since her husband left and the farming hasn’t been great in Kansas. She’s stuck in a place where she can’t get out, and her son Ben isn’t making things better. He is a teenager trying to find his own in a rural neighborhood all the while living with four females. He’s just boy trying to find his own and you can feel that pull in his chapters. While the desperation in Patty’s comes through ten fold.

Libby is just trying to survive and while her money is running out she is desperate to do anything for some cash. Enter Lyle. He is a guy who is a part of a club they lovingly named The Kill Club. Where people of like minds get together and try to solve America’s cold case murders. The Day murders just happen to fit the bill and they track down Libby to try and convince her that her brother, Ben, is innocent.

We follow Libby and Lyle through the back streets of Kansas and beyond trying to find answers to a murder that happened so long ago and when Libby was a young impressionable girl. It’s hard to convince someone to change their thoughts when those thoughts have been the same since you were young, and when this is what everyone has been telling you for years.

The back and forth chapters and the pacing of the book make it for a fascinatingly quick read, I couldn’t put it down once it started rolling. The conclusion will leave you breathless as you take this journey with Libby and Lyle to uncover the truth that so many have kept hidden for decades.

The Pact- Jodi Picoult


At seventeen, the smallest crises took on tremendous proportions: someone else’s thoughts could take root in the loam of your own mind: having someone accept you was as vital as oxygen.

The Pact was suggested to me by my wonderful friend Jobeth. We were talking about how it’s hard to pick a new book to read after you’ve finished one that changes your core temperature. Suddenly a light went off inside Jobeth’s head and she quickly said, “The Pact!” I looked it up on goodreads and I have to say that people have very mixed emotions about this book. But I, like my friend utterly loved it.

The Pact is a story about love and loss and about what you do when the love that you think you deserve seems some what forbidden. Chris Harte and Emily Gold have been friends before they were born; their mother’s struck up a rather unlikely friendship when Emily’s mother Melanie and her husband Michael moved in next door to the Hartes. Actually the basis of their friendship is how I came to call Jobeth the oil to my vinegar:

Melanie, who had been too bookish in junior high school to have much of a social life, suddenly had a seventh-grade friend. Somehow, instead of Gus’s exuberance overshadowing Melanie’s reserve, they complemented each other. It ws not unlike the mixture of oil and vinegar—-neither of which one wanted alone on one’s salad, but which together seemed such a natural twosome it was easy to believe they’d been made with each other in mind.

The Hartes and the Golds have a picture perfect friendship. They go to dinner every weekend at the same chinese restaurant and they have picture perfect children who are dating and are ultimately going to be married. This is something everyone knows, even Chris and Emily. But what happens when one of the pair doesn’t seem to want the things that everyone wants for them?

Emily Gold doesn’t seem to want to be glued to Chris the rest of her life and that’s why at the very beginning of the story we find out that Emily Gold is dead and Chris Harte is alive with a gun in his hand. The story unfolds beautifully to show the life of a tortured girl who doesn’t seem to want the things that everyone else wants for her and what the boy she loves would do for her.

I have read My Sister’s Keeper so I was somewhat familiar with Picoult’s style of writing, though this one is different, not told in a back and forth style as Keeper is. It unfolds with each chapter jumping from Then and Now, and each chapter gives you just one more piece of the puzzle and it all fits perfectly. It was an easy read and made me want to pick up her new book. One thing I learned from this adventure, is aways listen to Jobeth when she suggest a book. She’s 2 for 2 now.

Find Me- Laura Van Den Berg


My unconscious mind is very powerful and it wants me to live.

Before I talk about the above book I have a confession to make. I gave up on a book. Yes, it’s true. I had been carrying it around with me like an albatross around my neck and I just couldn’t bring myself to open it. I started it, don’t get me wrong, I just couldn’t get into it. I voiced my concerns to my coworker JB: “It always makes me nervous when, on the back of the book, instead of praising the book you currently have in your hands it’s praise for their other book.” But let’s be honest. It’s true. Whenever a back cover says wonderful things only about the first book the book you have is usually not so great. That’s what happened. I’m sure it was a fine book, but at this point of the year it just wasn’t for me. I’m not going to tell you which book it is, because I feel like that is unfair, and who knows maybe I’ll pick it up again and love it. Such is the life of a reader. Anyway, onwards and upwards.

As I was walking around the library last week feeling utterly ashamed that I gave up on a book I stumbled on the “Lucky  Days Collection”.  It is described as such:

 “Lucky Day is a collection of the most popular, current, in-demand books,” explains Library Director Jessica Keyser. “We have filled the Lucky Day shelves with best-sellers and other books that currently have a long waiting list. We hope that our patrons will be surprised and delighted by their ‘luck’ in finding these titles on the shelf when they walk in the door, no waiting required. The Lucky Day collection is our love letter to the Ferndale community.”

The catch is; you can only keep the book out for one week. One week? I’m a fast reader at the best of times, especially if I have the time and am completely engrossed in the book. (I read The Other Boleyn Girl in two days and finished the bulk of Winter’s Tale in one.) Even so, one week is not a long time, since I don’t take the train anymore that has eaten in to my reading time. The industry I’m in is also not conducive to reading either. It’s hard to come home at 3 o’clock in the morning and crack open a book when all you want to do is mindlessly watch that episode of Friends you’ve seen a million times. That’s neither here nor there.

So, I had seen Find Me on a few lists for “books you should read in 2015” and after glancing at the synopsis on the inside flap; and checking to see how many pages it was I decided to go for it. At 278 pages it was a quick read. Now, I’m not saying that the amount of pages makes a book any easier to read, Jude the Obscure was pretty short and that was brutal!

It is told from the eyes of Joy a girl who was abandoned when she was only a month or so old at a hospital, it is there she was given the name Joy. She is then pushed through the foster care system and lives in a few different homes. She keeps her sentences short and to the point but filled with emotion. She is a girl who has been beaten down by the system and a life of floating from place to place where people don’t seem to really want her around. After she is on her own for a while an epidemic sweeps through the country. People, everywhere, are forgetting everything. She happens to be one of the lucky few that is immune. She is taken to a hospital where the “lucky” people are being held so that scientists and doctors may examine them day in and day out trying to find a cure.

It’s not until she breaks free that the book really grabbed my attention. Joy starts to remember things from her past that have long been hidden away. It’s in these parts that she becomes more relatable. Now, I’m not saying that the things that happened to Joy happened to me, no, I’m saying that we all have things that we would like to bury deep in to our psyche and never let out again.

A theory on why we stop remembering: there is a part of our story that we do not know how to tell ourselves and we will away its existence for so long that finally our brain agrees to a trade: I will let you forget this, but you will never feel whole.

Find Me is a fantastic book that turned bloody brilliant as it kept on. You find yourself identifying with Joy and her best friend Marcus on their journey to forgiveness and life. This being Ms. Van Den Berg’s first novel I’m interested to see what else she has up her sleeve. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I ended up really enjoying this book. I finished it at the laundromat last night and every time I read a great line I looked around searching for someone to tell. “Hey, listen to this…”

The Psychopath Test – Jon Ronson


There is no evidence that we’ve been placed on this planet to be especially happy or especially normal. An din fact our unhappiness and our strangeness, our anxieties and compulsions, those least fashionable aspects of our personalities, are quite often what lead us to do rather interesting things.

A few months back while I was still deep in the land of Fillory I was having a glass of wine and stumbling about on the internet when I found a website dedicated to finding books that “you” would enjoy reading. Say, if you read The Chronicles of Narnia  you would enjoy The Magicians Trilogy. I somehow clicked my way through and made it to The Psychopath Test. Now, Emily after a few glasses of wine loves buying things off of Amazon, and since we had just started our free membership with Amazon Prime I decided it was time to try out our free two-day shipping.

Two days later the book arrives and I’m staring at the cover and I think “My father read this book…he told me I should read this book.” I call him up and sure enough it was, in fact, the book that we had been talking about months earlier and I now had it in my hands. So, I finished The Magician’s Land  and decided that it was time to read The Test. If you’ve been following me for a while you will know that I don’t read a lot of non-fiction. In fact, I read next to none, but since I’m interested in the human condition and I was told that it read more like a novel than a memoir I was determined to give it a try.

It took me a while, not gonna lie to you. The first half was slow, a lot of bouncing around and talking about a book that was sent to academics and laments a like called Being or Nothingness and while the mystery of “why” is fascinating I found myself asking “why”? Once Ronson moves on from that and really dives in to his quest of “what makes a psychopath” that’s where it really starts to get interesting. He travels to Broadmoor, a psychiatric hospital in England, home to many notorious prisoners. This is where the book started to grab me but not until he starts talking to a notable conspiracy theorist did it fully engross me and I was able to finish the last third in one sitting. As with most books of this size I’m ashamed that it has taken me this long to finish, but since it is not within the realm that I usually dwell I’ll give it a pass. I also blame The Killing.

All in all it was a good read but I think I will head back over to a world I’m familiar with and settle in to a nice fiction book. As a friend who also read the book said “I convinced myself that several people I knew were psychopaths.” I admit, I did too.

Once a year… – Emily DeBias


“Emmylou-who! Hullo to you!” – Mama

My mother is a great many things. When my mother was younger she wanted to be a clown. Correction. My mother is a clown. She may not have the official title and she doesn’t go around town with a big red nose on, but make no mistake. If papa was a rolling stone; my mama is a clown. My mother was the first one to make me laugh and I find great joy in making her laugh in turn. She kind of screams actually. She kind of sounds like a goat…I mean that lovingly, ma. When she really truly laughs she screams and then goes completely silent. The only way you know that she is laughing are her shoulders. Bobbing up and down, up and down.

My mother is a salesperson. There are sayings about people like my mother; “She can sell sand to an Egyptian.” “She can sell glasses to a blind man.” Etc, etc, etc. My mother would go a step further though, she would ask if she could help the Egyptian carry said sand back to Egypt, just for the adventure. She would ask the blind man if she could walk with him and have tea just to hear his story. My mother loves people and people love her. She treats everyone equally, the way people should be treated. I’m honestly surprised I haven’t heard of her protesting on behalf of people. Yet, that is also how my mother was raised. Which is strange to hear about in that time. People not seeing color or sexual orientation in the early 50’s and 60’s, but that is how she was raised and I am ever grateful for that because that was how I was raised.

My mother worked in a cubicle, a laser hair removal office, a talent agency, and a children’s theatre; but most people remember her as a waitress. She was good. Well, to an extent. If Joycie brought you the fried fish instead of that burger you actually ordered you just ate it. You know that song “Dizzy”? That’s my mother. But you can’t help but love her.

My mother calls me…a lot. Usually just to say hi, but sometimes there’s a story. A funny story. A story so funny that we’re both in tears and she can barely get the words out to tell me what happened. It’s a language only her and I can speak and I’ve spent years mastering it. I’m a Joyce-linguist-master. If you want an example of such a story, head over to my old blog and check out the time she called to tell me about the time she “accidentally waxed her cat”. That is not a euphemism folks. That actually happened. My mother also likes to call and tell me the weather. “Emmy, it’s cold out there.” I live in the Midwest. She calls me at Christmas time and tells me to “look at the Christmas lights.” This is why I love my mother.

The reason I tell you this is because today is my mama’s birthday and once a year I actually get to tell people what an amazing person she is. For those who don’t know anyway. My mother had me when she was young and some times I feel like we were meant to be together. She was meant to teach me the meaning of laughter and taking life as it comes, and I, well I was put here to teach her structure. That is not to say that my mother doesn’t get anything done. She can, when she puts her mind to it. And come on, she raised two kids practically by herself and she managed to always remember when bills were due.

My mother is everyone’s champion and everyone’s biggest fan. I feel blessed everyday to be referred to as “Joyce’s daughter”, and when the day comes I hope my children are even half the person their Mimi, Nanny, Ninja, Grandma, Granma-Dukes is. She is simply amazing and I’m convinced there is no one in the world like her. There will also never be anyone like Joyce, Joycie, BOP, Ma, Mama, Momma, Momma-dukes. So, no matter what you call her, take a second and wish her a happy birthday or just stop and think about that one time you went to such and such a place with Joyce or, at the very least, fill today with joy. For that is her name. Joyce.

Happy birthday, to my mighty hermaphrodite! Love you, mama!

The Magician’s Land- Lev Grossman


There was no end to Fillory, no end to the beauty and strangeness, except there was, and this was it.

The last book in The Magician’s trilogy is by far the best one of the set. Not without its fault, the end of the series is a roller coaster ride of adventure. Without wasting any time Grossman plunges us right into Quentin’s world post-Fillory and in to a life of magical crime. Always looking for the next big adventure Quentin takes sides with a talking bird, a stoic stranger, and a misfit band of magicians to steal a suitcase. What’s in it? Don’t know. Why do we want it? Not sure… ‘Kay.

So starts The Magician’s Land. He also takes us back to Fillory where Janet, Eliot, Josh and Poppy are doing their royal best at trying to keep the seams from breaking apart. Come to find out, that’s impossible. Now, without giving too much away, this book does jump around quite a bit and some times I had trouble keeping track of where I was. Especially when it comes to the back story of Plum, a vivacious undergrad from Brakebills who also happens to be living a life of crime, and Quentin. You have to just be ok with the fact that you’re going to be confused for a couple of chapters. Are they lovers? How did they meet? Why do they not want anyone to know that they have met prior to the talking bird? That being said. I love Plum! She is a fresh young voice that the, now grown, Physical Kids needed. He definitely makes the fact that the gang has grown up by adding a lot more “adult” language.

As with The Magician King loved characters come back in to the fold and also places that you never thought you would hear of again make a triumphant return. Fillory is always there, even when it’s not specifically being referenced. You’re always thinking of Fillory. I know. I know. I was a huge Fillory hater when I first started the series but I can’t help but love it now. As a good friend of mine said once; “I want to go to there.” We would all be lying if we said we never thought about getting accepted to Hogwarts, crawling through a wardrobe to Narnia, or holding a button to get to the Neitherlands. Grossman brings the feelings and wonder of wanting to be in a magical world when you’re young and makes it possible for us to entertain the notion as adults of flying on the back of a hippogriff. It is a satisfying end to a satisfying reading experience. Magic is everywhere friends, but remember it all comes at a price, dearies.


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