Non-fiction review: A Woman of No Importance

Title:  A Woman of No Importance: The Untold Story of the American Spy Who Helped Win World War II
Author: Sonia Purnell
Publication Info: Viking Press, 2019. 368 pages.
Source: Library digital resources

Publisher's Blurb:
In 1942, the Gestapo sent out an urgent transmission: "She is the most dangerous of all Allied spies. We must find and destroy her."

The target in their sights was Virginia Hall, a Baltimore socialite who talked her way into Special Operations Executive, the spy organization dubbed Winston Churchill's "Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare." She became the first Allied woman deployed behind enemy lines and--despite her prosthetic leg--helped to light the flame of the French Resistance, revolutionizing secret warfare as we know it.

Virginia established vast spy networks throughout France, called weapons and explosives down from the skies, and became a linchpin for the Resistance. Even as her face covered wanted posters and a bounty was placed on her head, Virginia refused order after order to evacuate. She finally escaped through a death-defying hike over the Pyrenees into Spain, her cover blown. But she plunged back in, adamant that she had more lives to save, and led a victorious guerilla campaign, liberating swathes of France from the Nazis after D-Day.

Based on new and extensive research, Sonia Purnell has for the first time uncovered the full secret life of Virginia Hall--an astounding and inspiring story of heroism, spycraft, resistance, and personal triumph over shocking adversity.

My Review:

I’m not sure where I got the tip-off for reading this book—I think it might have been the collection of brief sketches on women heroes of WWII I reviewed here. Whatever the reason, I’m glad I picked it up. The biography is well-written and historically diligent, with no effort to create thoughts and motives where they aren’t known—which is almost everywhere.

Virginia Hall was an exceptionally private person, perhaps because of her work as a spy, perhaps just by nature (which caused which?). In any case, we have to learn to know her primarily through the eyes of the men she worked with, and official documents. The reward for that research effort is a book that combines all the elements of a spy thriller with a strict adherence to fact. You might even call it a slightly dry spy thriller, except I was never bored. 

The other aspect of the book that makes it both a valuable and at times painful read is the history of sexism it exposes. Virginia Hall was acknowledged by the vast majority of those who knew her work as one of, if not the best spy in France during the war. Yet because of her gender, she was consistently passed over for promotion, and for much of the war the SEO (British Intelligence) and later the OSS (US Office of Special Services) routinely tried to put men with less—or no—experience and qualifications in command of her. After the war, it was even worse.

Happily for all of us—because in the end Ms. Hall performed feats of espionage and guerrilla warfare that may have tipped the balance for the Allies after the D-Day landings—she wasn’t particularly inclined to give in and accept her “place” as a woman. I might say she was a woman ahead of her time, but in fact I would argue that she was one of the women who made our time possible.

My Recommendation:

This is a book that helps to explode the myths not only about what women can do, but also about what they *did* do. And I didn’t even mention the fact that she had a disability, having lost one leg below the knee due to a hunting accident and a case of gangrene. Any time I’m feeling sorry for myself because things hurt when I’m hiking, I’ll be remembering Virginia, crossing the Pyrenees on foot, in winter, with a 1930s-technology false leg (named Cuthbert).

FTC Disclosure: I checked A Woman of No Importance out of my library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

Non-fiction review: Code Girls, by Liza Mundy

Title: Code Girls: The Untold Story of the American Women Code Breakers of World War II

Author: Liza Mundy.

Publication Info: Hachette Books, 2017. 432 pages (Kindle edition).

Source: Library digital services

Publisher’s Blurb:

In the tradition of Hidden Figures and The Girls of Atomic City, Code Girls is the astonishing, untold story of the young American women who cracked key Axis codes, helping to secure Allied victory and revolutionizing the field of cryptanalysis.

Recruited by the U.S. Army and Navy from small towns and elite colleges, more than ten thousand women served as codebreakers during World War II. While their brothers and boyfriends took up arms, these women moved to Washington and learned the meticulous work of code-breaking. Their efforts shortened the war, saved countless lives, and gave them access to careers previously denied to them. A strict vow of secrecy nearly erased their efforts from history; now, through dazzling research and interviews with surviving code girls, bestselling author Liza Mundy brings to life this riveting and vital story of American courage, service, and scientific accomplishment.

My Review:

Another fascinating bit of history, and another story of smart women doing work that has been underappreciated and ignored. In this case, there was some justification for the silence: it was top-secret work. Still, like other books I've read (and still more I'm about to read), it's a tale both uplifting and frustrating. Frustrating to see such talented women being treated like second-class citizens, and equally so to see how they, on the whole, accepted it. Valued as "computers" for their attention to detail, they were still somehow seen (or treated) as less able than men at math and science. But it's also uplifting to see that even at a time when they were too often not allowed into graduate programs, or couldn't get jobs teaching math (beyond the high school level, anyway, and especially after the war), these women found a place where their math and reasoning skills were put to good use.

Not all of what the "code girls" did was highly mathematical, of course. But code breaking requires a level of mathematical reasoning beyond the average, as well as a sharp and creative mind that can leap to some intuitive connections. The author does a good job of conveying both the difficulty and the tedium of the work, the excitement and the frustration.

Mundy also presents some nice portraits of several of the young women who traveled to Washington, DC, with very little (or no) idea what they had signed up for. Many were civilians (especially early on), specially recruited from the best women's colleges of the East. Later, many more were WAVES (the women's unit of the Navy) who tested well for mathematical reasoning and were assigned to the code-breaking unit, as well as some WACs (women's army corps). 

I did at times lose track of the timeline, as Mundy traced individual women's courses through the war. It took me a while to realize that we were circling back repeatedly to different stages in the war effort. Other than that, I had no complaints. The writing was engaging and easy to read, and the story interesting. It's not one of the great works of history I've read, but it's good, and a story worth telling. 

Their wartime work left a mark on some of the women, and on their families. I was delighted to read that Bill Nye (the Science Guy) is the son of one of the Code Girls. In that case, maybe the love of math and science was passed along. In other cases, codebreakers suffered from PTSD (utterly undiagnosed or treated, of course), due to either the stress of the work they did, or their failures to save lives--or the later realization of the lives they'd cost, too, since their work led directly to the sinking of many enemy ships. 

As so often, the women were first brought into this work because much of it was tedious, and women were considered better at tedium (got to wonder if any of the men ever examined the realities behind that assumption!). Later, as men became scarce, the women proved to themselves and their superior officers, and eventually the world, that they were fully equal to men in their abilities. It's a shame the story couldn't be told for so long, because it would have forced universities and other agencies to give up the stupid idea that women can't do math, and might have saved a whole generation of women from undermining their own skills.

My Recommendation:
This is an interesting and worthwhile story. I think it never hurts to remind ourselves that women have been doing things that "women can't do" for a very long time. Every book of this sort helps us examine our assumptions and perhaps break down some stereotypes, so read it!

This is just a random thought, but I was reminded of some books I've read about the "Navajo code talkers" of WWII, who used the same native language that the government had until recently been trying to eradicate to create an unbreakable spoken code. Seems that in time of war, the oppressed may suddenly become useful and prejudices temporarily set aside.


Full Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of Code Girls from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

Non-fiction review: The Meaning of Everything

 

Title: The Meaning of Everything: The Story of the Oxford English Dictionary
Author: Simon Winchester
Publisher: Oxford University Press, 2003. 288 pages.
Source: Library used book sale

Publisher's Summary:

From the best-selling author of The Professor and the Madman, The Map That Changed the World, and Krakatoa comes a truly wonderful celebration of the English language and of its unrivaled treasure house, the Oxford English Dictionary.

Writing with marvelous brio, Winchester first serves up a lightning history of the English language--"so vast, so sprawling, so wonderfully unwieldy"--and pays homage to the great dictionary makers, from "the irredeemably famous" Samuel Johnson to the "short, pale, smug and boastful" schoolmaster from New Hartford, Noah Webster. He then turns his unmatched talent for story-telling to the making of this most venerable of dictionaries.

In this fast-paced narrative, the reader will discover lively portraits of such key figures as the brilliant but tubercular first editor Herbert Coleridge (grandson of the poet), the colorful, boisterous Frederick Furnivall (who left the project in a shambles), and James Augustus Henry Murray, who spent a half-century bringing the project to fruition. Winchester lovingly describes the nuts-and-bolts of dictionary making--how unexpectedly tricky the dictionary entry for marzipan was, or how fraternity turned out so much longer and monkey so much more ancient than anticipated--and how bondmaid was left out completely, its slips found lurking under a pile of books long after the B-volume had gone to press.

We visit the ugly corrugated iron structure that Murray grandly dubbed the Scriptorium--the Scrippy or the Shed, as locals called it--and meet some of the legion of volunteers, from Fitzedward Hall, a bitter hermit obsessively devoted to the OED, to W. C. Minor, whose story is one of dangerous madness, ineluctable sadness, and ultimate redemption.

The Meaning of Everything is a scintillating account of the creation of the greatest monument ever erected to a living language. Simon Winchester's supple, vigorous prose illuminates this dauntingly ambitious project--a seventy-year odyssey to create the grandfather of all word-books, the world's unrivalled uber-dictionary.


My Review:  
After that unmercifully long blurb, what's left for me to say? Not to worry: I'll find something, and say it regardless.

I picked this book up at the library book sale because I'm a word nerd and a lover of the OED. I have my own copy of the 2-volume "compact edition," whereby hangs a tale. When I started graduate school and moved in to a shared house in Seattle, one of my housemates saw the massive 2-volume set and laughed at the idea of it being in any way compact. That lasted until I showed her the interior, each page of which contains 4 pages shrunken of the original. (Happily, it came with a magnifying glass). I still love to consult the OED for origins and history of words.

That being said, I was fascinated by the insights into the way my favorite reference work was constructed. I'm not sure anyone by a word nerd would find the book as interesting, though, and the minutiae about the lives of the people involved wore on me as well. The problem here, I think, is that there really wasn't a book's worth of story in the 80-year undertaking. So, while parts of the book were absorbing as Winchester recounted how certain words were tracked down and captured, other parts went on too long (in my opinion) about how certain people fell out over this and that issue.

I will, however, give Winchester credit for making note of the women and people of lower rank who participated in the project, often with little credit, as well as of the sexist assumptions that kept women out of the heart of the book. But the OED did one thing: it moved the making of dictionaries from a sort of gentlemanly pursuit (think Samuel Johnson) into the world of paying jobs, which it needed to be as it absorbed at least one editor for nearly his entire adult life.

My Recommendation:
Read this if you are curious about the way a dictionary is made, or if you are a bit obsessed with words, their meanings, and their histories. Winchester tells a pretty good tale, but this one isn't as readable as some of his other books.

FTC Disclosure: I bought a second-hand copy of this book, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

Non-fiction Audio-Book Review: Valient Ambition

Title: Valiant Ambition: George Washington, Benedict Arnold, and the fate of the American Revolution

Author: Nathaniel Philbrick; read by Scott Brick

Publisher: 2016, Books on Tape. Original by Viking, 2016, 427 pages.

Source: Library digital resources


Publisher's Summary:
In September 1776, the vulnerable Continental Army under an unsure George Washington (who had never commanded a large force in battle) evacuates New York after a devastating defeat by the British Army. Three weeks later, near the Canadian border, one of his favorite generals, Benedict Arnold, miraculously succeeds in postponing the British naval advance down Lake Champlain that might have ended the war. Four years later, as the book ends, Washington has vanquished his demons and Arnold has fled to the enemy after a foiled attempt to surrender the American fortress at West Point to the British. After four years of war, America is forced to realize that the real threat to its liberties might not come from without but from within.

Valiant Ambition is a complex, controversial, and dramatic portrait of a people in crisis and the war that gave birth to a nation. The focus is on loyalty and personal integrity, evoking a Shakespearean tragedy that unfolds in the key relationship of Washington and Arnold, who is an impulsive but sympathetic hero whose misfortunes at the hands of self-serving politicians fatally destroy his faith in the legitimacy of the rebellion. As a country wary of tyrants suddenly must figure out how it should be led, Washington’s unmatched ability to rise above the petty politics of his time enables him to win the war that really matters.

My Review: 
I think the publisher's summary nails it pretty well: "a complex, controversial, and dramatic portrait." I appreciated that the author appeared to give a hard look at Washington's failings as well as his strengths (including recognizing that he learned to be a good general; he wasn't born that way). Unfortunately, the word "complex" also sums things up well. There is a lot in this book, and I found it hard to keep all the characters sorted out and to follow the history, or at least to fit it into what I already know. 

The key thread, however, of how Arnold went from hero of the rebellion to traitor, is pretty clear and pretty well presented, even if I had to sort it out from the many other threads and characters. That, in fact, is my main criticism: the author may have tried to take in too much, and there were far too many characters to keep track of, especially in the audio book. I ended up feeling as though there were a lot of life stories being told me, with often very little understanding on my part as to why this person mattered. Again, in print, a little flipping back and forth might have solved the problem, but in audio, it left me mostly feeling confused.

My Recommendation:
Interesting topic, educational, but hard to follow, at least as an audio book. Read it if you are in need of a better understanding of the American Revolution and have patience.

FTC Disclosure: I checked Valiant Ambition out of my library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising." 

Meta Review Wild Things:The Joy of Reading Children's Literature as an Adult

 

Title: Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children's Literature as an Adult
Author: Bruce Handy
Publisher: Simon and Schuster, 2017. 307 pages.
Source: Library

Publisher's Summary:
An irresistible, nostalgic, and insightful -- and totally original -- ramble through classic children's literature from Vanity Fair contributing editor (and father) Bruce Handy.

In 1690, the dour New England Primer, thought to be the first American children's book, was published in Boston. Offering children gems of advice such as "Strive to learn" and "Be not a dunce," it was no fun at all. So how did we get from there to "Let the wild rumpus start"? And now that we're living in a golden age of children's literature, what can adults get out of reading Where the Wild Things Are and Goodnight Moon, or Charlotte's Web and Little House on the Prairie?

In Wild Things, Bruce Handy revisits the classics of every American childhood, from fairy tales to The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and explores the back stories of their creators, using context and biography to understand how some of the most insightful, creative, and witty authors and illustrators of their times created their often deeply personal masterpieces. Along the way, Handy learns what The Cat in the Hat says about anarchy and absentee parenting, which themes link The Runaway Bunny and Portnoy's Complaint, and why Ramona Quimby is as true an American icon as Tom Sawyer or Jay Gatsby.

It's a profound, eye-opening experience to reencounter books that you once treasured after decades apart. A clear-eyed love letter to the greatest children's books and authors, from Louisa May Alcott and L. Frank Baum to Eric Carle, Dr. Seuss, Mildred D. Taylor, and E.B. White, Wild Things will bring back fond memories for readers of all ages, along with a few surprises. 


My Review:  
I was excited to stumble on this book at the library (while sorting books, as usual). Someone who wrote about the joy of doing something I do quite a lot? I had to read it.

What I got, I think tilted a bit more to the "adult" than the "joy" part of the premise. The blurb is pretty honest; the book is using a fairly scholarly approach to understand children's books and their appeal as well as their underlying meaning and significance. And don't get me wrong: that was interesting. But I often felt that the joy of reading those stories got lost in the lit crit.

I may also have been a little put out that Handy spent most of his time on books I've not read, and which aren't part of my psyche. That's right: for whatever reason, I never read Beezus and Ramona or the Wizard of Oz books (the former I might remedy; Handy convinced me I had some inner wisdom in not reading the latter). He did a good job of rehabilitating C.S. Lewis for those of us who aren't religious (and of explaining why I never liked either The Magician's Nephew or The Last Battle all that much), but turned around and annoyed me not so much by his accurate assessment of Little Women (caught between Alcott's feminism and a need to conform to societal standards) as by his out-of-hand dismissal of Anne of Green Gables.

Honestly, that inability on Handy's part to see that the somewhat irritating young Anne (who talks too much and often nonsense) is herself a character struggling against the stifling norms of her society really bothered me. Maybe his disgust with Anne for naming the geranium and giving it anthropomorphic feelings springs from a gender difference, but to me Anne's actions seem completely reasonable. As children, don't most of us imagine and half-believe that certain toys or other things are actually alive? Since Handy didn't finish the book, he doesn't get to see how Montgomery developed that uncontrolled imagination into something that could carry Anne out of the normal realms of Avonlea little girls. (That Montgomery later felt it necessary to push Anne into adulthood and back into what amounts to a very traditional female role is another issue, and one that could lead me down side-trails for pages.)

In the end, however much I did or didn't agree with everything Bruce Handy wrote, his book is an interesting look at the context, history, and significance of a number of childhood classics, and it is worth a look. It may just be, though, that analyzing joy is like analyzing humor: it has a rather crushing effect on it.

My Recommendation:
Read this for the backstories of the books, and the better understanding of the evolution of children's literature.


FTC Disclosure: I checked Wild Things out of my library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

Non-fiction Review: Year of No Clutter

 

Title: Year of No Clutter
Author: Eve O. Schaub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, 2017. 290 pages
Source: Library

Publisher's Summary:

Eve has a problem with clutter. Too much stuff and too easily acquired, it confronts her in every corner and on every surface in her house. When she pledges to tackle the worst offender, her horror of a "Hell Room," she anticipates finally being able to throw away all of the unnecessary things she can't bring herself to part with: her fifth-grade report card, dried-up art supplies, an old vinyl raincoat.

But what Eve discovers isn't just old CDs and outdated clothing, but a fierce desire within herself to hold on to her identity. Our things represent our memories, our history, a million tiny reference points in our lives. If we throw our stuff in the trash, where does that leave us? And if we don't...how do we know what's really important?

Everyone has their own Hell Room, and Eve's battle with her clutter, along with her eventual self-clarity, encourages everyone to dig into their past to declutter their future. Year of No Clutter is a deeply inspiring--and frequently hilarious -- examination of why we keep stuff in the first place, and how to let it all go.

My Review:  
The summary for once hits the nail on the head (in the second paragraph in particular). When I first saw this book I nearly passed without a second look, because I thought it was another in the growing collection of books about how much my life would be improved if I just got rid of all the extra stuff in our house (note: this is probably true. I just don't like self-help books). But a second look showed me that this wasn't self-help advice from some perfect housekeeper. This was the memoir of a woman trying to deal--though humor as well as hard work--with border-line hoarder syndrome, and much of what she had to say resonated.

In particular, Schaub's idea that (for her) things not only represent her memories, but that she has a very real fear that they may actually be the memories. If the stuff is gone, won't the memories be also? That thought, coupled with her ear of making the wrong choice, of throwing something out only to want it immediately after (her second insight into her inability to throw anything away), resonated with me. Those two things are exactly why I hang onto far too much stuff, the worn out (or at least half-used) stuff as well as all that art from the boys' childhood. (Depression-era parents and a childhood on a shoe-string budget contribute to the problem).

Seeing where the inability to get rid of anything led Schaub, and watching her conquer her more pathological version of that inability, isn't just inspiring. She actually offers some concrete help to those of us who share that fear of throwing away the wrong thing, and with no judgement. Maybe I could get that same inspiration from the self-help books. But I somehow doubt it. I think I might respond better to seeing someone worse at this than I am succeed. In any case, how could someone who has never saved anything useless tell me how to convince myself it's okay to get rid of stuff?

My Recommendation:
If you have trouble getting rid of stuff, read this. You don't have to be a hoarder, or have a hell-room like Schaub does. Just a closet or two that you haven't cleaned out in 20 years, or in which all you ever do is rearrange the stuff without reducing it. Or read it for the fun of watching someone overcome a serious handicap and come out on top (of the pile of stuff, of course). You can also read it for the laughs, because I forgot to mention that Schaub is a very funny writer.

FTC Disclosure: I checked Year of No Clutter out of my library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising." 

Non-fiction Review: Walking to Listen, by Andrew Forsthoefel

Title: Walking to Listen: 4,000 Miles Across America, One Story at a Time
Author: Andrew Forsthoefel
Publisher: Bloomsbury, 2017. 371 pages
Source: Library

Publisher's Summary:Life is fast, and I've found it's easy to confuse the miraculous for the mundane, so I'm slowing down, way down, in order to give my full presence to the extraordinary that infuses each moment and resides in every one of us.

At 23, Andrew Forsthoefel headed out the back door of his home in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, with a backpack, an audio recorder, his copies of Whitman and Rilke, and a sign that read -Walking to Listen.- He had just graduated from Middlebury College and was ready to begin his adult life, but he didn't know how. So he decided to take a cross-country quest for guidance, one where everyone he met would be his guide.

In the year that followed, he faced an Appalachian winter and a Mojave summer. He met beasts inside: fear, loneliness, doubt. But he also encountered incredible kindness from strangers. Thousands shared their stories with him, sometimes confiding their prejudices, too. Often he didn't know how to respond. How to find unity in diversity? How to stay connected, even as fear works to tear us apart? He listened for answers to these questions, and to the existential questions every human must face, and began to find that the answer might be in listening itself.

Ultimately, it's the stories of others living all along the roads of America that carry this journey and sing out in a hopeful, heartfelt book about how a life is made, and how our nation defines itself on the most human level. 

My Review:  
This was one of my "oh, that looks interesting" choices while sorting books at the library, and I started reading with a bit of skepticism, as well as curiosity about the stories he would listen to, and how much a kid fresh out of college could/would learn from it all. By the mid-point, the author had totally won me over.

Forsthoefel does an excellent job of conveying who he was at each stage of the journey, with both a certain amount of self-deprecation and also a kindness toward himself that shows an unexpected maturity. And he truly does set out with a focus on others, listening to anyone who will talk to him. This leads to his first struggle: how to listen to people who say horrible, racist things. He never does wholly resolve that, though he reports the advice he gets as he asks others that question. I think the best advice he gets is to ask people, "what makes you think that?"

As someone who is more interested in walking in the mountains, and reading accounts of the long trails, his choice to walk roads bothered me at first. Didn't he know that would be terribly hard on his body, and he'd have to look at a lot of ugly places? Eventually, I figured out that he may not have known all of that, but he was okay with it, because (unlike me) he wanted to walk where the people were. It's a different kind of thing.

As the walk stretches on and Forsthoefel reaches the West (in high summer, about the worst possible timing for crossing Arizona, Nevada, and Death Valley), the author starts to develop a new understanding of what he is doing. That includes a suspicion that he is, at least in part, hoping that someone will give him the answers. Answers to what? To everything, including who he is and what he is doing. Before he is done, he has learned that no one else can tell him that, though there's no denying he got a lot of wisdom (and a certain amount of BS) from the people he listened to all across the country.

In spite of the book's length, I realized when he lists the people who traveled often long distances to be at the finish with him, this narrative only scratches the surface of what went on during the months of his walk. But it's a darn good start, and reflects a maturity and wisdom beyond his years--and they are well earned by walking.

My Recommendation:
If you like to read about people who do interesting things, this is for you. If you read (as I did), Peter Jenkins' A Walk Across America, you might want to read this to see how the walk works some 40 years later. And if you are looking for a little reassurance that there are good people out there, this is for you as well.


FTC Disclosure: I checked Walking to Listen out of my library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising." 

Non-fiction review: The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap

 

Title: The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap 

Author: Wendy Welch
Publisher: St. Martin's Press, 2012. 291 pages
Source: Purchased

Publisher's Summary:

A book about losing your place, finding your purpose, and immersing yourself in what holds community, and humanity, together—books

Wendy Welch and her husband had always dreamed of owning a bookstore. When the opportunity to escape a toxic work environment and run to a struggling Virginia coal mining town presented itself, they took it. And took the plunge into starting their dream as well. They chose to ignore the “death of the book,” the closing of bookstores across the nation, and the difficult economic environment, and six years later they have carved a bookstore—and a life—out of an Appalachian mountain community.

A story of beating bad odds with grace, ingenuity, good books, and single malt, this memoir chronicles two bibliophiles discovering unlikely ways in which daily living and literature intertwine. Their customers—"Bob the Mad Irishman," "Wee Willie," and "The Lady Who Liked Romances," to name a few—come to the shop looking for the kind of interactive wisdom Kindles don't spark, and they find friendship, community, and the uncommon pleasure of a good book in good company.

The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap will make you want to run to the local bookstore, and curl up in an arm chair with a treasure in bound pages. 

My Review:  

I got this book because my friend Melissa of Carpe Librum Books (http://carpelibrumbookstore.booklikes.com/) kept recommending it. Maybe even raving about it. I can see why. I'm not sure I'd rave, but then I don't run a bookstore. But I enjoyed the book immensely, and learned a great deal along the way. Did I need to know about which types of books sell best, and the realities of creating a used book store out of nothing? Maybe not, but I had a good time, and turned some of that knowledge to how I thought about our "Friends of the Library" book sale.

Welch's writing style is engaging, as is her ready willingness to apply some gentle self-mockery to the naive innocence with which she and her husband approached both the bookstore project and their move to a small town. I'd say that the book is about half about running/developing a book store, and half about the realities of becoming a part of the community when the community is small, somewhat isolated, and maybe (like many small towns these days, for good reasons), a bit defensive.

I admit that as I started reading, I thought that the couple's naiveté was going to annoy me, along with a little tendency to look for "signs." But she quickly demonstrates that she is completely aware of both of those things, and maintains a sense of humor that goes a long way toward making this a swift and pleasurable read. 

My Recommendation:
For bibliophiles everywhere. Especially if you've ever thought you'd like to run a book store, this can provide both some practical advice and a reality check. But it also is a lovely story about a a couple becoming part of a community, and I enjoyed it on all those levels (well, I have no desire to run any kind of store, but if I did, it would be a bookstore).

FTC Disclosure: I bought The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap, and received nothing from the writer or publisher for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising." 

Friday Flash: Creative Non-Fiction

So Chuck Wendig is back at his post, throwing out weekly writing challenges. This week we had a list of ten randomly-produced titles, and the command to go forth and write. He gave us 2000 words, but I stopped at 1200. I also looked at the title, and in my mind it kept running to real events, not fiction. So I decided to write a bit of creative non-fiction. Everything in this piece happened, pretty much the way I have told it.

The River’s Mask

Every river wears a mask. The surface hides much of what lies beneath, though experience teaches us to read it, at least a little. If you are lucky, you survive the experiences.

If you are very lucky, along the way you learn a thing or two about yourself.

My first stream-based learning experience came when I was about six. Happily, this was a discovery mostly about my own limits, without danger to more than my dignity or reference to the mysteries of deep water. Deep mud, on the other hand, was definitely involved.

My brothers and I were the youngest of a string of cousins, and I was the youngest of us all. So it was inevitable that with a half a dozen kids running around a mountain meadow like a gang of mountain goats, I was the least adept at any of the skills the others displayed, including jumping over things.

A little creek wound through the meadow, and from a distance it was clear and beautiful. We children saw it as a plaything. I was to learn of its dark underbelly. With all the older kids jumping back and forth across the creek, in my 6-year-old arrogance I shouted, “Watch me jump!” and leapt…to about the middle of the stream. Which proved, on closer contact, to have a bottom made of muck. Deep muck.

My oldest cousins helped me out of the stream, dripping with black mud, and led me off to get clean clothes. On that day, I stowed two bits of information in my little head: I saw that streams weren’t always what they seem—and I couldn’t jump (I still can’t).

The next rivers I remember standing out were glacial melt-streams. I stood with my brothers on the banks of the White River and listened to the boulders rolled by the rushing waters pouring off the glaciers of Mt. Rainier, and I needed no experimentation to know I should stay well out of that water. I have never needed to test the premise that wading in white water is a bad idea, and glacial run-off and even better thing to avoid.

Over the years, I learned to see when a stream was just a stream, and when it was a river, masking a deadly depth or force. I got the most vital, and dangerous, lesson in my last year of college. We students all grew itchy as the Spokane winter yielded too slowly to spring. So even though it was raining (again!), when a couple of friends proposed we rent a canoe and run the Little Spokane River, it sounded like a good plan. I’d been messing around in canoes since I was a kid, so I figured I knew what I was doing. Of course, our family canoe had stayed firmly on lakes and the in-shore waters of Puget Sound. I’d never run a river in my life. But the “Little Spokane” sounded innocuous, and it looked innocent. Smooth and flat and innocent.

It turned out the innocents were in the canoe, for a while. We shoved off and tried to ignore the drizzle, excited to be off campus and doing something different. But it didn’t take us long to realize that the “little” river was larger, deeper, and above all faster than we’d anticipated. It didn’t take long after that to realize that I knew nothing about river canoeing, the other woman knew nothing about canoeing at all, and the guy, who was the only one who’d been on moving water, didn’t know enough to compensate for a couple of novices. In other words, we were in over our heads.

Within ten or fifteen minutes that had ceased to be a metaphor.  We lost control on a bend, caught the edge of the canoe under a snag, and capsized. The good news was that we were all wearing PFDs, we managed to hang onto the canoe and two paddles, and though we lost one paddle, no one drowned. Oddly, I don’t remember what we did after that. We must have finished our trip to the second vehicle, having learned a little bit more about the face beneath the river’s mask. I certainly never again looked at smooth, deep water with the same naiveté.

Similar river lessons awaited me a decade later when my husband and I took a belated honeymoon to New Zealand. We spent a month hiking the South Island, largely on the west (wet) side, so we met a lot of rivers. After a few days, we learned to stomp right through without bothering to change shoes. Endless crossings made it necessary, and chill, often fast, water made the boots essential in any case.

On our last river crossing on the last day of our last hike, a day before flying home, we learned a last (though fortunately not final) lesson about where and how to cross. After hiking down a river for two days, crossing and re-crossing multiple times per mile, we had gotten pretty good at spotting the best places to cross.

Or so we thought. In fact, we’d merely gotten good at plowing straight through a broad, shallow, and fairly tame stream. When we reached the final crossing—the larger river our feeder stream flowed into—we stood and stared at it for a while. This river looked like a cross between those glacial streams of my childhood at Mt. Rainier, and the sleek and deceptive Little Spokane. Some places it ran fast. Some spots looked slower, but deeper.

We proceeded to pick what looked like a good spot to cross, but was, in fact, one of the worst (as we really should have known). New Zealand rivers, once off the steep slopes of the mountains, are wide and braided, which is the only reason many are fordable at all. We crossed the first and second strands easily, and then tackled the largest channel. Stepping off the end of our gravel bar, arms linked (we weren’t completely stupid), we discovered just how much water ran under the mask.

If I were writing this as fiction, I would have gone downstream, floating atop my pack (or beneath it, depending on whether I was writing comedy or tragedy) until I washed out into Lake Wanaka, or if it was a thriller, passed a desperate night clinging to a tree limb somewhere.

In fact, I merely went, between one step and the next, from thigh-deep to belly-deep, began to float, and was with some difficulty pulled back against the tug of the river by my husband, still on higher ground. Retreating to our gravel bar, we waited for our pulses to slow, then went in search of what we knew to be a better crossing: not the smooth, slow-looking water, but the broad, swift, shallow(er) riffle, where speed and waves looked more frightening, but the power was less.

In the years since my lessons in seeing beneath the river’s mask began, I have grown in my love of the beauty of the mountain meadow stream, the power of the glacial run-off and the joy of the tumbling cascade. But I never forget to look beneath the mask before I wet a toe.

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2016

An alpine stream, with a gravel, not mud, bottom.

Nonfiction Audio Review: Lusitania: Triumph, Tragedy, and the End of the Edwardian Age

Title:  Lusitania: Triumph Tragedy, and the End of the Edwardian Age
Author: Greg King and Penny Wilson. Read by Johnny Heller
Publisher: Tantor Audio, 2015. Original hardcover by St. Martins, 2015, 400 pages.
Source: Library digital collection

Publisher's Summary: 
On the 100th Anniversary of its sinking, King and Wilson tell the story of the Lusitania's glamorous passengers and the torpedo that ended an era and prompted the US entry into World War I.
Lusitania: She was a ship of dreams, carrying millionaires and aristocrats, actresses and impresarios, writers and suffragettes – a microcosm of the last years of the waning Edwardian Era and the coming influences of the Twentieth Century. When she left New York on her final voyage, she sailed from the New World to the Old; yet an encounter with the machinery of the New World, in the form of a primitive German U-Boat, sent her – and her gilded passengers – to their tragic deaths and opened up a new era of indiscriminate warfare.

A hundred years after her sinking, Lusitania remains an evocative ship of mystery. Was she carrying munitions that exploded? Did Winston Churchill engineer a conspiracy that doomed the liner? Lost amid these tangled skeins is the romantic, vibrant, and finally heartrending tale of the passengers who sailed aboard her. Lives, relationships, and marriages ended in the icy waters off the Irish Sea; those who survived were left haunted and plagued with guilt. Now, authors Greg King and Penny Wilson resurrect this lost, glittering world to show the golden age of travel and illuminate the most prominent of Lusitania's passengers. Rarely was an era so glamorous; rarely was a ship so magnificent; and rarely was the human element of tragedy so quickly lost to diplomatic maneuvers and militaristic threats. 

My Review:
I used the publisher's summary above to illustrate a point. Despite the blurb's opening lines (italicized by me), King and Wilson make a point in the opening chapter of the book of debunking the idea that the sinking of the Lusitania brought the US into the war. A quick look at the timeline (sunk in 1915; US entered the war in 1917) should make that point, and that's about all they gave it.

In any case:  this book isn't as much concerned with the war and the political significance of things as it is with the culture and society. It's not what the sinking started that concerns King and Wilson, but what it ended: the Edwardian Age. Of course, that era of mannered society, strict class lines, and opulent elegance (for the rich) wasn't just ended by the sinking of one ship. It was ended by the war, but the ship makes a lovely metaphor.

It isn't a metaphor that King and Wilson explore very deeply, in my opinion. To me, this book was largely a joyous dive into the elegance of the ship and the era, and an exploration into a selection of lives (largely of survivors, no doubt in part because of a greater access to information). That the authors chose to focus on first class passengers, and a few from second class whom they found interesting, sent me a clear message. The book is not a very deep look at the age or the event, but it *is* a fascinating look at a number of lives and a nice illustration of the times (including, perhaps, the way in which the war was not taken quite seriously by the US at that point). That said, the look is never deep enough and the switches from one to another were far too rapid for my taste.

The audiobook: 
My last comment above brings me to the main problem of the audio book, which is not entirely the fault of the narrator. With the story switching rapidly from one story-line to another, the listener (this listener, anyway) is always a step behind, without any of the visual cues a printed book gives for such changes of direction. The narrator might have done more to create hesitations, but the book switches so often and so rapidly that I think that would have created its own listening problems. In general, the narrator did a good job, but it was still sometimes hard to follow.

Summary:
This book was interesting to listen to, and I learned a fair amount about the event and the era, but I found it in many ways shallow and, as mentioned, very hard to follow as an audio book. I think there may be better books out there about the sinking of the Lusitania, and I may well hunt them down.

Full Disclosure: I checked  Lusitania: Triumph, Tragedy, and the End of the Edwardian Age out of my library, and received nothing from the writer or publisher in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Flash non-fiction

This week, Chuck Wendig challenged us to write, not fiction, but creative non-fiction. I certainly nailed the non-fiction, but this one is not so creative. It might even be a little flat. There's a reason for that.

In this story, I refer to my sons as Eldest Son (or ES) and Second Son (SS). From the beginning of my involvement in social media, I have declined to use their names, and it seems only fair that I give them that small token of privacy.


March, 2002

Spring break, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. We have come, as we do most years, with our two sons and my husband’s parents, to do some camping and hiking and look for spring wildflowers. This time, the first thing we do nearly changes our family forever.

Sunday, 10 a.m. We join a ranger-led hike to explore an area with Native American artifacts. Eldest Son (4 ½) is being a little difficult, and won’t put on his sun shirt or sweatshirt. To avoid holding things up, we let it go, insisting only on his sun hat. The first stop for the group is yards from the parking lot, and next to our son’s favorite kind of playground—a giant pile of boulders. He starts climbing around, and I decide that he needs his sun shirt, and run back to the car to get it, calling to him to come back down.

When I return, there is no sign of ES. Leaving our 3-year-old with his grandparents, my husband and I search all through the pile of rocks. Did ES fall into a gap somewhere and get stuck? It is completely not like him to wander off. After 10 minutes, we tell the ranger and get more help. Immediately, the ranger calls off the hike, collects our best guesses as to where our son might have gone, and asks hike participants to search if they are willing. Everyone searches, but we do not find our son. The wind is blowing hard, so that shouts cannot be heard more than a few feet away. It has been a fairly wet winter, and the plants are tall—taller than a petite 4-year-old.

Somewhere in the next two hours the ranger calls in reinforcements, and the S&R team asks all the amateurs to come back in. We thank them, and begin the really hard part: sitting and waiting. My mother-in-law puts aside her own worries, and makes sure we all eat lunch, including Second Son, who behaves incredibly well through the entire day. Then we wait some more.

The crowd in the parking lot grows, with us on the edges, more observers than part of it all. A volunteer S&R team comes in with horses. An airplane and chopper fly over, but high winds soon ground them. S&R brings in a giant RV to use as HQ, and sets up a tent to provide shelter for the searchers. I find myself standing at the edge of the desert, peering into the brush in hopes of seeing…something. Someone comes to offer me comfort. I think it might be the Park Superintendent. He says nothing, just offers silent comfort. There must a hundred people involved, many of them volunteers who dropped everything on a Sunday afternoon to come to our aid.

Various members of the team come to us from time to time, to ask questions. What is ES wearing? We all know it’s a t-shirt with stripes, but no one can agree on which shirt and what color the stripes are. The blue sun hat is easier. They ask about anyone who might have left the parking lot while we were all out. They are starting to wonder if he’s out there at all, or if someone snatched him. That seems too far-fetched to worry us. No, he’s out there somewhere.

It is fairly late in the day when the Border Patrol dog team arrives. They ask for something with our son’s scent, and we have to hunt a bit to come up with something he wears and his brother doesn’t, since the two are the same size and share clothing.

Later, they tell us that the dogs and the trackers found and lost the trail repeatedly. ES wandered in loops and circles and twists, searching in the tall grass (over his head) for the way back to us, and a small boy doesn’t leave a lot of spoor. Teams of dogs come and go, and it seems like they are making no progress.

It is nearly 5:00—almost 7 hours from when we lost track of our son—when my husband see a group of Border Patrol trackers coming towards us across the desert, a bundle in the arms of the leader—a bundle wearing a bright blue hat. We leap from the camper where we have been waiting, and sprint across the desert, dodging cacti and ignoring calls to be careful.

My husband is faster, so he reaches the searcher first, grabbing our son. When I reach the group, I snatch ES from his father (mothers can get rather possessive at such times, I find!). We are immediately hustled into the S&R ambulance, where an MD checks him over. I stay there, hanging onto my son, while my husband stays with the searchers, to learn more, and to thank everyone.

ES is dehydrated, and edging toward hypothermia, thanks to dropping temps and the chilling wind, but he perks up quickly as he sips rehydration fluids from his own sippy cup. Eventually, the doctor lets me carry ES outside, so that all the searchers can see that he really is okay. We have our pictures taken with the searchers, and with the dogs (I think I kissed the dogs. I may have kissed their handlers, too). Everyone needs to see him, to reassure themselves that this search has had the right outcome.

It is 7 p.m. before we return to our campsite and make dinner. We decide the next day to continue with our vacation as planned, since ES seems to have recovered fully. Over the next few days, we learn that he had tried to return to us, been unable to climb down the way he went up, and gotten lost in the tall brush, full of apparent trails that “went the wrong way.” He stopped to use a cat-hole, and tried to eat ants (which were NOT tasty). He rested a lot under bushes, out of the sun and wind. That made him harder to spot, but possibly saved him by slowing dehydration and chilling—as did the hat, which he never took off.

Some might wonder that we continued with the trip, and continued to let our sons test their limits and explore their world (though we kept a somewhat closer eye on them!). But to us, that was important. You prepare your child for the world, but you can’t keep them from the world. The incident left scars on us, but not on our sons. As it should be.

 ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2015

I have blotted the names of family members. I am happy to print the names of rescuers, who deserve all the praise and love we can give them!

Non-Fiction Review: Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand

 

Title: Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption

Author: Laura Hillenbrand. Read by Edward Herrmann

Publisher: Random House, 2010 (473 pages). Random House Audio, 2010 

Source: Library (digital)

Publisher's Summary:

In boyhood, Louis Zamperini was an incorrigible delinquent. As a teenager, he channeled his defiance into running, discovering a prodigious talent that had carried him to the Berlin Olympics. But when World War II began, the athlete became an airman, embarking on a journey that led to a doomed flight on a May afternoon in 1943. When his Army Air Forces bomber crashed into the Pacific Ocean, against all odds, Zamperini survived, adrift on a foundering life raft. Ahead of Zamperini lay thousands of miles of open ocean, leaping sharks, thirst and starvation, enemy aircraft, and, beyond, a trial even greater. Driven to the limits of endurance, Zamperini would answer desperation with ingenuity; suffering with hope, resolve, and humor; brutality with rebellion. His fate, whether triumph or tragedy, would be suspended on the fraying wire of his will.

 

My Review:

What can one say about a story like this? The story is incredible, and Hillenbrand is a master storyteller who spins it out just about right. I appreciated that she included the stories of many of those around Zamperini--he was, after all, not the only one to endure things of this sort, and, in fact, the pilot who was the only other survivor of the crash and the time at sea had just as much of a story. The author even touches on the basic unfairness of who got the attention at the time and afterwards; Zamperini got the limelight because he was a runner of unprecedented talent.

At times, the story does feel a little too "wow"--a little too much emphasis on the amazing struggles, the miraculous salvations, and a tone of drama that the story doesn't really need, given how dramatic it is on its own. This bothered me more in the early part of the book, which focused on Zamperini's boyhood and his prodigious feats as a runner. By the time the airmen are dumped into the waters of the Pacific, no drama needs to be added to the story.

Probably the thing about the story that bothered me the most was something the author can't very well be blamed for: Zamperini was saved from PTSD by religion, a miracle I have some trouble crediting. But that is his story, and she told it well, even convincingly. As for the writing--it is solid, pulling the reader (listener) into the story and into the lives of the men she follows into the Pacific. I listened to this to the exclusion of getting other work done, because I had to hear it all, horrific though much of it was.

The reading is also excellent, and the narrator succeeds in keeping the story clear and straight in the listener's mind, with just about the right balance between drama and the calm that reminds us this is non-fiction.

Recommendation:
No surprise, given the book's best-seller status and the popular movie, but this has appeal for a wide audience. It's great for those who are fascinated by WWII, for those who like inspirational stories, and for those who just like a good hero. It's not flawless, but it will still knock your socks off.

Full Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of Unbroken from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."  

Non-fiction Review: White Water Landings

 

Title:  White Water Landings

Author: Geoffrey Pett with JM Pett

Publisher: Princelings Publications, 2015. 224 pages.

Source: Purchase

Summary: 

This memoir, narrated by Geoffrey Pett and edited by his daughter, JM Pett, takes us to Africa between the wars (as in, the 1930s, between the Great War and WWII). Geoffrey worked for Imperial Airways (later British Air) establishing the routes that served Africa, primarily with the Flying Boats. His account of establishing a number of bases and then the effect of the outbreak of WWII on the system offers a unique glimpse into another world.

Review:

Full disclosure first: I have worked with JM Pett (Jemima Pett) on a couple of projects (see the Bookelves Anthology), so I was primed to like the book. But the following review is my honest opinion.

White Water Landings is not the sort of slick memoir we are seeing a lot of these days, nor is it a celebrity tell-all. It is an honest account of a time and a place that I, for one, knew little about, and it has a very authentic voice. Because the narrative was originally created orally, there remains a certain "oral history" feeling that I think serves the story very well, but Ms. Pett has provided the right amount of editing to make it read well and professionally. Geoffrey Pett wasn't anyone famous in a broad sense, but he did good and important work, and was clearly recognized and respected for it in his field--a fact that comes through in just the right way when he recounts with pride successfully meeting great challenges, or mentions that a suggestion of his was adopted by the higher-ups.

The narrative is well-structured and well-edited, with Mr. Pett's voice coming through very clearly and a meticulous attention to fact and detail. While Geoffrey Pett may have remembered some things inaccurately (he recorded the story many decades after the events in the book), Ms. Pett has done her research to attempt to correct errors or--which I think is just right--to indicate where official accounts differ from Geoffrey's memory, and let the reader decide.

One thing Geoffrey himself mentions as a bit uncomfortable: this is a story of a time when British Colonialism was thriving, and the circumstances and mindsets of the time reflect it. Some events and attitudes may grate on modern sensibilities, though this is certainly colonialism light, by comparison to many stories we all know. Those attitudes and assumptions were part of their time, and this book helps us to understand that time.

Recommendation:
I enjoyed the story very much, and can recommend it to history buffs and particularly anyone interested in the history of flight. It combines a detailed view of what was done with a certain  authenticity that, for me, made it more compelling than a plain history.

Full Disclosure: I purchased my own copy of White Water Landings, and received nothing from the writer or publisher in exchange for my honest review.  The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

A Guest Post from A Year in the Secret Garden

 

I am happy today to host Valarie Budayr, co-author of the beautiful and charming book, A Year in the Secret Garden, a companion to the beloved classic by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

Title: A Year in the Life of the Secret Garden
Author: Valarie Budayr Illustrator: Marilyn Scott-Waters
Publication Date: November, 2014
Publisher: Audrey Press
Pages: 144 
Recommended Ages: 5 to 99


Book Description: Award-winning authors Valarie Budayr and Marilyn Scott-Waters have co-created A Year in the Secret Garden to introduce the beloved children’s classic, The Secret Garden to a new generation of families. This guide uses over two hundred full color illustrations and photos to bring the magical story to life, with fascinating historical information, monthly gardening activities, easy-to-make recipes, and step-by-step crafts, designed to enchant readers of all ages. Each month your family will unlock the mysteries of a Secret Garden character, as well as have fun together creating the original crafts and activities based on the book. Over 140 pages, with 200 original color illustrations and 48 activities for your family and friends to enjoy, learn, discover and play with together. A Year In the Secret Garden is our opportunity to introduce new generations of families to the magic of this classic tale in a modern and innovative way that creates special learning and play times outside in nature. This book encourages families to step away from technology and into the kitchen, garden, reading nook and craft room.

And now, a word from Valarie Budayr!

Thank you Rebecca for inviting me today to be a guest blogger today on Ninja Librarian. It is such an honor and I'm so happy to be here.

Over the past year I've had the great pleasure of working with Marilyn Scott-Waters aka The Toymaker as we created our book A Year in the Secret Garden.

One of our favorite childhood books is The Secret Garden. We wanted to bring the book to life for a new generation of readers. We've created a month by month guide to the Secret Garden bringing this magical story to life. Inside are crafts with step by step instructions, easy-to-make recipes, gardening activities, beautiful and fully illustrated paper toys to download, and historical information. We've even added a Yorkshire dialect guide. It's our wish that you have many magical moments inside the Secret Garden.

Today let's go exploring into the month of July. July is a beautiful sunny month in the Secret Garden. The garden is in full bloom, the bees are buzzing and there is always a gentle breeze found under blue skies. The Secret Garden is fully awake in summer and beckoning one and all to enter it's walls. July holds many wonderful adventures to be add as well as many wonderful things to eat. July explores the world of  The Secret Meal with a tin foil breakfast. Also included in July are Colin's exercises, a blindfolded garden walk, creating a garden journal, a character study on Susan Sowerby, creating beautiful affirmation stones and eating some lovely scones and ginger tea.



Today I'd like to share some fun eating with a real Secret Meal, our tin foil breakfast. Mary, Dickon, and Colin enjoyed eating a breakfast by the campfire. It's one of my favorite things to do as well.

Tin Foil Breakfast

Makes enough for 1 person per foil package. Ingredients

• Hash brown potatoes
• 1-2 eggs
• 1 sausage link (optional)
• Feel free to add ham, cheese, or bell peppers as well
• Salt and pepper
• Aluminium foil
• Cooking Spray

Instructions Tear off a piece of aluminum foil large enough to hold your eggs and potatoes. Spray the non-shiny surface of your foil with cooking spray. Break the eggs into a bowl and beat them until well mixed. Place potatoes, beaten eggs ( uncooked), sausage, and salt and pepper to fast in the aluminum foil. Wrap securely Place on hot white coals of your campfire or grill for approximately 15 minutes. Turn and rotate as needed.

Wishing you many happy adventures inside the Secret Garden.
--Valarie Budayr

About the Author: Valarie Budayr

Valarie Budayr loves reading and bringing books alive. Her popular website, www.jumpintoabook.com, inspires children and adults alike to experience their books through play, discovery, and adventure.
She is founder of Audrey Press, an independent publishing house, as well as an Amazon and iTunes best-selling author. She has written The Fox Diaries: The Year the Foxes Came to our Garden and The Ultimate Guide to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Valarie is passionate about making kid’s books come alive and encouraging families and schools to pull books off the shelves and stories off the pages.

Book Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook

Pinterest | Google+ | Goodreads

About the Illustrator: Marilyn Scott-Waters

Marilyn Scott-Waters loves making things out of paper. Her popular website, www.thetoymaker.com, receives 2,000 to 7,000 visitors each day, who have downloaded more than six million of her easy-to-make paper toys. Her goal is to help parents and children spend time together making things.
She is the creator of a paper toy craft book series The Toymaker’s Christmas: Paper Toys You Can Make Yourself (Sterling), and The Toymaker’s Workshop: Paper Toys You Can Make Yourself (Sterling). She is also the co-creator with J. H. Everett of the middle grade nonfiction series, Haunted Histories, (Christy Ottaviano Books / Henry Holt Books for Young Readers). Ms. Scott-Waters illustrated The Search For Vile Things (Scholastic), and created paper engineering for Pop & Sniff Fruit (Piggy Toes Press).

Website | Facebook | Google+

* $100 Blog Tour Giveaway *

Prize: $100 Amazon Gift Card or PayPal cash (winner’s choice)
Contest ends: December 7, 11:59 pm, 2014
Open: Internationally
How to enter: Please enter using the Rafflecopter widget below.
Terms and Conditions: NO PURCHASE NECESSARY TO ENTER OR WIN. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. A winner will be randomly drawn through the Rafflecopter widget and will be contacted by email within 48 hours after the giveaway ends. The winner will then have 72 hours to respond. If the winner does not respond within 72 hours, a new draw will take place for a new winner. Odds of winning will vary depending on the number of eligible entries received. This contest is in no way sponsored, endorsed or administered by, or associated with Facebook. This giveaway is sponsored by the authors Valarie Budayr and Marilyn Scott-Waters and is hosted and managed by Renee from Mother Daughter Book Reviews. If you have any additional questions – feel free to send and email to Renee(at)MotherDaughterBookReviews(dot)com.

Year in the Secret Garden Rafflecopter Giveaway!

A Year in the Secret Garden Blog Tour Schedule (2014)

EXPLORING SEPTEMBER

November 1

Mother Daughter Book Reviews (Launch)

Coffee Books & Art (Guest Post)

WS Momma Readers Nook (Book Review)

November 2

Cherry Mischievous (Excerpt)

Hope to Read (Excerpt)

November 3

Eloquent Articulation (Book Review)

Enter Here Canada (Excerpt)

EXPLORING OCTOBER

November 4

BeachBoundBooks (Excerpt)

Books, Babies and Bows (Book Review)

November 5

Monique’s Musings (Book Review)

November 6

SOS-Supply (Book Review)

EXPLORING NOVEMBER

November 7

Randomly Reading (Book Review)

November 8

Adalinc to Life (Book Review)

EXPLORING DECEMBER

November 9

100 Pages a Day (Book Review)

November 10

Edventures With Kids (Book Review)

EXPLORING JANUARY

November 11

Icefairy’s Treasure Chest (Book Review)

November 12

Girl of 1000 Wonders (Book Review)

EXPLORING FEBRUARY

November 13

Seraphina Reads (Guest Post)

November 14

Juggling Act Mama (Book Review)

EXPLORING MARCH

November 15

Pragmatic Mom (Illustrator Interview)

Purple Monster Coupons (Excerpt)

November 16

Stacking Books (Book Review)

EXPLORING APRIL

November 17

Oh My Bookness (Book Review)

November 18

Crystal’s Tiny Treasures (Book Review)

EXPLORING MAY

November 19

The Blended Blog (Book Review)

November 20

All Done Monkey (Book Review)

November 21

Geo Librarian (Book Review)

EXPLORING JUNE

November 22

My Tangled Skeins Book Reviews (Book Review)

November 23

Christy’s Cozy Corners (Book Review)

My Life, Loves and Passions (Book Review)

November 24

Bookaholic Chick (Excerpt)

Hide-N-(Sensory)-Seeking (Book Review)

EXPLORING JULY

November 25

Ninja Librarian (Guest Post)

November 26

Jane Ritz (Book Review)

Rockin’ Book Reviews (Book Review)

November 27

I’d Rather Be Reading At The Beach (Book Review)

EXPLORING AUGUST

November 28

Deal Sharing Aunt (Book Review)

November 29

Mommynificent (Book Review)

November 30

This Kid Reviews Books (Book Review)

Java John Z’s (Author/Illustrator Interview)

Grandbooking (Author/Illustrator Interview)