I love food – good food, flavorful food, color food and aromatic food. I’m not a fan of raw onions…they make me gag, actually – same with raw broccoli. I also love the smell of food – even onions, I love the color of vegetables – even broccoli; and I’m convinced that any conflict probably could be resolved with food. I know… probably naive.

Because of this love of food, reading The Book of Unholy Mischief was really enjoyable. It may sound like an exaggeration, but I actually contemplated cutting open an onion, closing my eyes and tasting it…you know, like try to taste it for the very first time without the childish knowledge of how it tasted when I was five. When push came to shove, I couldn’t do it…but I thought about it, and that for me is like winning 1st place in the Next Food Network Star competition. By the way, I did try Shallots recently…and LOVED the way they smelled (raw) and tasted with my roasted potatoes.

The Book of Unholy Mischief takes place in and around 1498 in Venice. Quick history lesson: The 1400s are the birth of the Age of Discovery, increased exploration and improved navigation methods – creating new trade routes and new trade partners; the birth of the movable type press which made inexpensive mass-printing possible; At the time the story takes place, Columbus has already sailed the ocean blue, and the Spanish Inquisition has begun. Leaders have their personal astrologists, and what became known as scientists are being labeled as heretics. The world is in a constant state of philosophical flux at this point. I think I got all this right…

This is the world Luciano lives in. Luciano resembles Charles Dickens’ Oliver – only Italian, not English. Eventually, Luciano is caught stealing by a chef and given the job of Chef’s Apprentice in the palace kitchen. He’s already fallen in love with a convent girl and is fiercely loyal to his street buddies.

The catalyst for this story is a book. In this book, there is supposed to be a recipe for making gold (something the street boys want), recipe for immortality (something the Doge* wants and is willing to kill everyone over), and a recipe for undying love (something Luciano wants so his convent girl will love him). There are said to be recipes for getting your most desired wants. If the book is the protagonist, then these three mentioned recipes would be the antagonists.

Over the course of the story, we find out the book is nothing like what people think it is. It is a recipe book – just not like what Venice gossip-mongrels thought it was. And yes, its hidden; but its also in plain sight. Its an alchemy book of sorts – in today’s world we’d call it a cook book, and those that are sworn to protect it would protect it with their lives.

I loved the amazing detail of The Book of Unholy Mischief. I felt like I was walking through the markets in Italy; I saw the architecture, I smelled the fresh food, I felt the heat coming from the kitchen where much of the story takes place. I could see the vibrant color of the vegetables. I smelled the spices and marveled at the intricacy with which the Chef put together his dishes for the visiting dignitaries. I wanted so badly to taste the dishes the Chef was making just to taste the real power of his creations. Newmark nailed it with the historical descriptions of 15th century Venice and amazing food descriptions.

Ultimately, my enjoyment of this book came from the complexity of why the book had to be kept a secret until a later time; who was supposed to keep the knowledge it contained. I loved the conflicting ideas it contained versus what was the accepted level of understanding of the times. I loved the use of food to create or dissipate conflict during a meal. I found the idea of food being a powerful contributor to how a group of people react in a situation a wonderful concept (and one I believe it possible).

There’s a great deal of intrigue in The Book of Unholy Mischief, though sometimes it doesn’t appear to be thought out to the logical end. I got the feeling the author was really trying to draw our attention to the old dungeons under Venice, but I couldn’t figure out why there were so many references. There was vague action around these dungeons, but the plot never really went inside. I suspect the references to the dungeons were used to give us a sense of intrigue, mystery and the ever popular sense of violence that comes with knowing about a place where methodical torture takes place; but for me, the references to the dungeons only confused me. I thought the constant reference to the dungeons was a foreshadowing technique, but it never happened.

I wanted to like Luciano. I gathered pretty early this was a type of “coming of age” period for him, but instead of enjoying what I was learning about him, I wanted to know more about his Master Chef. Luciano seemed incredibly naive for one that grew up in a brothel and then was kicked out on the streets.

Luciano was really sort of a conflicted character for me. One the one hand, he was motivated to try to make his own culinary creation to impress the Master; and there were several references to him trying to figure out what went with what. On the other hand, there was more bitching and moaning and sneaking around than there was him actually doing any preparation and truly learning. I got that he was a student and the Master chef was teaching him more than just what you need to know to cook. He was teaching him to be a master chef. I got that. I just felt like the whining was a bit much.

Another problem I had with Luciano was that I got the impression he had developed the ability to be stealthy during his time in the streets. I got more of a sense that he was sneaky rather than stealthy. There is a balcony scene where he is eavesdropping on the chef and his wife under the cover of darkness, and he appears to be on the verge of getting caught. The problem I had with this was, I’ve seen the architecture of residences in Italy and the balconies aren’t very big. The description of this scene made it seem like there was all sorts of space for him to navigate around. If he were on any of the balconies I saw in Italy (and I admit, I didn’t go to Venice), he’d have been caught. It just didn’t really make sense to me. A stealthy kid would have had enough sense to understand he would have been caught and found another way. A sneaky kid would have tried it and hoped to hell he didn’t get caught – which is what Luciano did.

Luciano just didn’t appear to put two and two together in many areas of the story until it was too late. And this seemed a bit tragic to me. I didn’t expect him to be all knowing to the ways of the world, but I did expect him to have some street sense that I am not sure he actually showed.

Luciano’s story is one of second chances. He’s given an incredible second chance at life and ultimately, he takes the opportunity and becomes part of the secret society he was offered inclusion in. I’m glad it worked out for him. I do believe throughout the story the reader is able to see tremendous growth in Luciano’s character – in both the literary aspect and the humanity aspect. This sense of growth made some of the other flaws overcome-able, but it still left the question what about this boy made him a prime candidate for the role he would play in life?

Despite some of its flaws, The Book of Unholy Mischief is a fun read, definitely thought-provoking, and worth your time…especially if you love food and see it as more than just something we need to survive.

* formerly the chief magistrate of the republics of Venice and Genoa

Check out the author’s website to view her walking tour of Venice and her recipe for Chilled Chocolate Mousse with Cayenne Pepper

It takes fifteen months to break the most optimistic of men. Fifteen months. It began at the five month mark, but he was able to brush it aside, keep it to himself, and continue showing bravado. It took a total of fifteen months for Lt. Col Kauzlarich to go from gung-ho to we’ve done our job, let’s get out of here. Fifteen Months.

It took his good soldiers less than that. It took the first soldier being killed just ten weeks after their arrival in Iraq for the breaking to begin.

The Good Soldiers by David Finkel tells this story.

I have tried many times to write a review of this book and well, figured in light of the last combat troops leaving Iraq yesterday, I’d try again. Its been a full month since I read this book. A full month of constant thinking about it. A full month. I hate like hell that I’m trying to review this book even now. I am still saddened, but as a Navy Veteran, I am pissed off.

Last night, I was watching the MSNBC coverage of the last combat troops entering Kuwait. The politicians and the retired generals made me sick. One of them said (and I’m paraphrasing), the health of our military is good. Maybe the bureaucratic military as a whole…but what about the health of our soldiers who have had multiple tours in Iraq and very well could now find themselves in Afghanistan? All I heard was we salute the courage of our armed forces, they are courageous and brave and they’ve done an outstanding job. I heard they were philosophical about what leaving Iraq meant and they understand they had a job to do and the job is now over. That’s it?! How about maybe “they are philosophical because its hard to justify what they’ve seen and done when we are leaving Iraq in the political disarray its in now. How about you have all been good soldiers, and I am so deeply sorry that you had to go through the stuff you have for the misguided reasons you did. How about that?!

I can’t get past the duration of how long it takes to break a human being under extreme stress. Fifteen Months…the first death of a comrade in front of your very eyes. I’m sorry, I just can’t get past it.

Young men…celebrating their birthdays in fire fights…knowing the longer they stay, the less likely they will celebrate another one. Young men…watching parts of their buddies disappear, wondering how long it will be before they lose legs, arms, eyes, the back part of their head.

Fifteen Months. That’s how long the 2-16 (short for Second Battalion, Sixteenth Infantry Regiment of the Fourth Infantry Brigade Combat Team, First Infantry Division, from Fort Riley, Kansas) spent near Sadr City, Baghdad. Two months, give or take a few days, before they lost their first soldier. The first soldier who within a month of arrival had seen enough to begin showing signs of not being able to process what was going on around him. The first soldier was in the one humvee of six hit by an IED. The first soldier died from severe burns – after all the ammunition in the humvee exploded with him still in his seat. “PFC Cajimat was killed on impact and was not able to be pulled from the vehicle.”  Mrs. Cajimat, I’m so very sorry. I feel dirty writing this, where you may see it and have to relive this horror.

Based on my reading of The Good Soldiers…PFC Cajimat was probably the lucky one. I know that’s no consolation to the Cajimat family, and I know that there were many who died and many who lived…and those that lived, may or may not be counting their lucky stars that they made it home. And those that lived have the honor of remembering those fallen soldiers. Is it honor though? I guess it depends on your perspective.

If you are living in America and only see Iraq and Afghanistan on the macro level then, yeah, you probably think this is honor; because you haven’t been “in the trenches.” I know I can’t possibly understand what it is these guys are remembering about their fallen comrades. After reading the Good Soldier though, I can’t really believe they remember the good without the visual bad.

If I were to recommend this book to just one group of people, it would emphatically be to the politicians who make the decisions to go to war – specifically those that have never seen combat. This book is a kick in the head. It will break your heart, it will anger you, and well, maybe for the politicians who go visit our brave soldiers at Walter Reed, it will help them understand that good soldiers don’t tell their higher-ups what they really think. I would bet that many people view Iraq as a success…I wonder what the soldiers who were there actually think.

I hated the way this book made me feel. I hate it now, as I try to write a review about the book. There’s no way to review the book without feeling anger and sadness. I believe this book isn’t meant to be reviewed – as much as it is meant to be felt. I recommend this book, in truth, to EVERYONE. Its extremely well written and has the ability to touch the lives of every American who has watched for seven years our men and women go into battle. The worst part of this book is knowing that this is just one story of one group of combat soldiers. There are many. Some we will hear about, some we won’t. I wish beyond all wishes this book was fiction.

After reading this book and  persevering on it for a month, I can’t help but think the war is not over, as it was claimed last night. The real war is just beginning for those troops that are coming home. Those soldiers who are in their mid-twenties, who have been in the military their whole adult lives and who saw things that will haunt their dreams their whole lives. How to not let these things affect their lives back here in the states is their own personal wars. There is no pentagon to coordinate whether they win or lose. There is no trillion dollar budget to make sure ALL the resources they need are available. There is however a trillion dollar budget to give them additional combat time in Afghanistan.

Dear soldiers of the War in Iraq…for whatever its worth…I’m sorry.

Image Source: The picture on the side comes from Amazon.com.  It is of “two soldiers try to collect themselves after their Humvee was hit by a roadside bomb.”

I started writing this review by looking for my thoughts on MJ Rose’s The Reincarnationist.  To my surprise, I never did one.  I remember liking the book, and then cracking the spine on The Memorist a day or so after I finished The Reincarnationist.  I vaguely remember I read both these books over a week.  I enjoyed both, but really liked the first book better.

The one thing I really like about MJ Rose’s The Reincarnationist series is the historical references to places, people, archeology and art. In my opinion, these references are exactly what makes being loyal to this series a borderline must. Rose does a phenomenal amount of research and ties in the idea of reincarnation in an exemplary manner. She has an excellent ability to describe a place or work of art or an atmosphere that allows a reader to insert themselves into the story.  Upon completion of these books, whether read back to back or separately, I have spent additional time pondering both the settings and the concept of reincarnation – for weeks after a reading actually. This is the draw of these books, for me at least.  Its not the actual plot line, or the characters, its the idea that maybe I did once spend a life in Ancient Greece or Persia, or maybe I was someone who helped build Stonehenge or an early American colonist.

After I finished The Hypnotist, I went back and read The Reincarnationist (I’ve actually read this book a few times).  I maintain the first book in this series is the best – I liked the settings better.  Many others have written reviews stating that even though these three books are a series, they can be read as stand-alone.  I truly just don’t agree with this assessment.  If you read either The Memorist or The Hypnotist without having read The Reincarnationist, you will not have a good grasp for what the Phoenix Foundation is and what ‘they’ do.  I suppose you could read The Hypnotist or The Memorist by itself, but I believe if you do, you’ll have to endure several instances of confusion because each book builds the role of the Phoenix Foundation in the story line.  I think The Hypnotist may be the most confusing if you’ve read neither The Reincarnationist or The Memorist.

Just a quick touch on The Memorist.  I found MJ Rose as the winner of a contest on the Ravenous Reader’s book review site, Bookstack.  The prize was both the first and second book in the series.  After finishing The Reincarnationist, I couldn’t wait to crack open the Memorist (I just went back and found reference to this occasion).   The Memorist may actually have been better written than The Reincarnationist. The concept of a magical instrument was fascinating and may actually have been better written than The Reincarnationist in regards to concept of sound being a catalyst for remembering a past life.

Did I like The Hypnotist?  I don’t know.  I don’t think it measured up to the other two books.  If I’m being honest with myself, it was not a bit too predictable…it was VERY predictable.  The plot line was different, but if you’d read the other two books, you knew where the conflict was going to be, you know who the antagonist was, and you knew there were probably multiple past lives and what the protagonist had to do to set the world right.  I sort of felt like the story was rushed…maybe? I just didn’t get the same historical engagement as I did from the other two books.  I thought the protagonist was a little flat and the antagonist tired. Though I found these things to be challenging, I thought the concept was thought-provoking and the writing was engaging.

The Reincarnationist series, as a whole, would be worth the reading time for those interested in the possibilities of reincarnation and/or historical fiction. I do not believe The Memorist and The Hypnotist should be read without having read The Reincarnationist. That said, to ensure less confusion in the subsequent books, I truly think this series should be read in order.

I’d like to thank the publisher and Pump Up Your Book for giving me the opportunity to participate in the virtual book tour.

I like some baseball books.  I like the little tidbits one can pick up about how major league ballplayers live and the struggles they strive to overcome.  I don’t necessarily like to read the baseball books about a winning team and I don’t like to read the “tell-all” books that some baseball players write about things that shouldn’t be talked about.  In a very real way, I think the fraternity known as major league baseball should be sacred and abide by an axiom like “what happens in the MLB, stays in the MLB” when it comes to airing dirty laundry.   Are there guys doing steroids? – yup.  Are there guys having extra-marital affairs? – yup.  But really is it any of our business? -  nope, not in my opinion.   I don’t care how the guys act when they are out at the clubs when they are on the road.  I don’t care which ones are doing drugs; and while I completely understand why it’s important for some fans to know – I just want to see a talented athlete bust it up the line or hit the game winning run in, or pitch a complete shutout.  That’s it.  I want to enjoy seeing the kind of athleticism that makes one wonder why is yoga so difficult when there are people out there can contort their bodies in unnatural ways 162 days a year?  That’s all.

I never played any sports.  I don’t have an understanding about what an enormous feat it is to be a major league baseball player.  Even the guys who are never deemed All-Stars, but ride the bench every day waiting for that pinch-hit opportunity have accomplished something amazing that I will never truly understand.  I don’t know what kind of dedication and drive it takes for someone to work their whole lives just to have one at-bat against some of the greatest pitchers in modern history…and not strike out.  To me, the position player job is to go out catch the ball, then come in and hit the ball.  That’s about all I can truly wrap my head around.  Until now…

I just finished reading The Game From Where I Stand by Doug Glanville.  Doug Glanville was a first round draft pick out of college for the Chicago Cubs, returned to college, finished his degree and became the first African American Ivy Leaguer to make it to the majors.  He was a center fielder who played for the Phillies, the Cubs, and the Rangers between 1996 through 2004.  He’s also been writing a baseball column online for The New York Times titled “heading Home,” as well as giving his insight as a baseball analyst for XML satellite radio.

What is significant about this book in my opinion is it’s written not just about the game, as much as things he learned from the game.  Glanville does an excellent job of explaining what the job of the center fielder is; as well as what the job of the lead-off hitter is.  For the first time, I actually understood why if Jose Reyes goes 0-4 in any given game, the rest of the team may have some difficulty getting it together.  After reading Glanville’s book, I actually understood what it is that makes Carlos Beltran a great center fielder.  The psychological nuances of the game is something I have always tried to understand, but don’t really.

Glanville also does a great job of adding little tidbits about how baseball lessons can translate into life lessons.  When talking about trying to learn to hit a curve ball, he says:

What I found was that your approach doesn’t have to any different from the one you use when dealing with any other curve ball that life throws at you.  We spend so much time cruising along, looking to hit the straight and dependable fastball, that the audacity of something different can cause us to forget the tactics that once gave us comfort and success.

The Game from Where I Stand is a thoughtfully written book, that gives a reader insight into how players deal with the baseball related elements of their lives (from preparing for the game and coping with streaks and slumps to responding to trades and dealing with injuries) to the more personal psychological elements of the game that affect them on a personal level (from dealing with race issues and relationships to handling a family crisis to dealing with the awareness that one’s career is almost over).  Rather than raking guys through the coals and spreading dirty laundry all over the locker room, Glanville only talked about what he knew as fact – his joys and his pains.  He discussed tips of the trade he got from other ball players, but he never really says anything that doesn’t have to do with the game of baseball where someone else’s name is involved…what happened in Montreal, away from the media markets of the U.S. , stayed in Montreal.

In the section entitled ‘Integrity of the Game,’ he talked about the impact of steroids to some degree, but more importantly, the reason why it’s important that the names of those who used steroids don’t get out.  This section was interesting to me.  As fans, we want to know if our heroes used game enhancing drugs; but we don’t often think what integrity of the game means.  It’s not just playing the game drug free.  For a player, it means understanding what the reach of the problem is – and if all the names come out, it’s likely that in the future that players will not buy into the confidentiality agreements when asked to be forthcoming.

When reading Danville’s book, I couldn’t help but be reminded that these guys I watch 162 days a year (give or take a few), aren’t just athletic gods, but real people with real issues they have to deal with.  This game we call baseball isn’t just about seeing the ball and catching the ball.  There’s a lot involved.  There are real people involved.  I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys the stories about baseball players, but also to those who want a better understanding of who these guys are, on and off the field.

I have recently had the pleasure of reading Cheryl Landmark’s first novel, Wind and Fire.  Despite some technical challenges, this is a very admirable first publication.

The story is set on a fantasy planet called Tellaron, in the year 2310. Our heroine, Tenya, is sold by her step mom to an evil minion of Zardonne, the Demon Master. Zardonne was vanquished by the Mistress of the Wind, came back from the Dark Rift, and then imprisoned her in an ice tower – all this prior to when we pick up the story. As it turns out, the Mistress of the Wind is Tenya’s mother, whom she was led to believe had abandoned her and her father when she was very young. We learn fairly early on that Tenya has terrifying visions and isn’t sure why they happen. After her abduction, Tenya begins her journey to find her mother, learns why she has visions and the extent of her magic, is introduced to her mother’s side of the family, and has to save civilization from the Demon Master.

I’ve given you only a very brief summary of the story.  If I told you more, I’d be giving away some pretty significant spoilers. The only reason I gave you Tenya’s mom as the Mistress of the Wind is because after she gets abducted, she begins to figure this out on her own (fairly early on).

Wind and Fire is a quest story. Think Frodo having to save the world from Sauron.  Wind and Fire is not near as complex as The Lord of the Rings, but there’s the quest, a cast of characters to help Tenya reach her final objective and there’s a trusty sidekick.  Tellaron is like Middle Earth in that Tenya traverses across horrible landscape that is difficult to cross and ultimately could kill her and her campanions.  Tellaron in many ways reminded me of a post-apocalyptic world, not Middle Earth.  Because of this and a reference to “earth,” I made the mistake of thinking Tellaron was set on a future Earth, which distracted me throughout my reading.

Unlike Lord of the Rings, Wind and Fire is a first novel, its only 221 pages long, and it isn’t near as complicated.  I am only using the Lord of the Rings comparison to illustrate the quest aspect.

I found Wind and Fire to be inundated with a bit too many descriptive adjectives that I felt took away from the story.  There was also a bit of inconsistency throughout the book that made me stop and wonder how much editing had been done prior to publication. However, these things did not stop me from enjoying the story…for the story.

Here’s my disclaimer: I had a set of communications about the technical challenges I had with the author.  In the case of Wind and Fire, if I hadn’t discussed it with the author, I’m not sure I would have publicly reviewed the book due to some of the challenges I found, despite liking the story.  The real reason for this review is this:

Newly published authors are worth reading. I get extremely excited when I see potential in a story. I think one would be hard pressed to find a “perfect” first novel, and communicating with an author about his/her first attempt at publication is often not just helpful, but the moment when one knows someone has what it takes – the difference between a writer and an author.  If I get a response of “well, sorry you didn’t like it” versus “thanks for your comments, they are very helpful for the future. I agree with some of it, but here’s what I’m standing firm on and here’s why;” I immediately think “this person could go far if s/he wants to.“  This response is the difference between a writer and an author.

Folks, Cheryl Landmark is an author.  I sincerely look forward to seeing her future publications and if there’s ever a 2nd edition of Wind and Fire, I’d most certainly read it for the pure pleasure of seeing how she, as an author, has evolved.  My hopes for her is she finds someone who can honestly and effectively edit her novels prior to the publication process starting, and she stands firm against editorial changes that she may not agree with in both the pre- “send it to the publishing house” process and the “we are going to publish your book” process.

As stated, Wind and Fire is an admirable first publication. If you can look past some of the editorial challenges, then I recommend checking it out.  I also recommend Wind and Fire if you like a basic fantasy quest story.

A week ago, I told you I was going on a Stephen King reading spree.  If you’ve never gone on a reading spree, I highly recommend it. I wanted to give you an update on what I’ve read this week and some thoughts while reading.

Stephen King Goes to the Movies: This is a mass market paper book I picked up sometime last year, probably at Walgreens or something.  Stephen King Goes to the Movies is a collection of five short stories that have been made into movies.  In this book, you’ll find:

1408
The Mangler
Hearts in Atlantis (“Low Men in Yellow Coats”)
The Shawshank Redemption (“Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption”)
Children of the Corn

I read Children of the Corn first, because I’d never seen the movie or read the story. My reaction to it was sort of interesting – I feel like the moral to the story, if you will allow me to use that phrase, is children will not save a marriage….I know, I know, hear me out though.

The story starts out with a husband and wife on a trip to see their relatives; they are driving across country because maybe the time together on a REALLY long coast-to-coast trip will allow them to work through the problems in their marriage.  Except the problem with their marriage appears that they just can’t stand when the the other one open his/her mouth (no way to save it from there, folks).  They leave the highway in cornrow country, thinking back roads may be better driving – cutting time off the trip, etc. and hit a kid (the kid’s neck was slashed, so his death was not the result of being hit by a car).  The story continues with the husband and wife trying to figure out what to do, making it to the next town (which happens to be deserted…there’s a surprise).  Kids attack the wife, take her away, and the husband goes running (he is being chased)…into the corn rows.  He gets away (because kids’ attention spans can only last so long), and when he goes to look for his wife, he sees she’s been killed (sacrificed to the Corn God), and he’s next.

The first kid – the one they hit with the slit throat – represents their marriage.  Its already doomed and there’s really no way to save it. Even though they should have pulled together when the car hit the kid, they were still torn apart and arguing about it.  This couple truly hated each other.  The other kids, I think, represented the old idea that having kids would bring us closer together.  The children didn’t bring them closer together – in fact the husband and wife were immediately separated further and she was sacrificed.

Moral to the Story:  Don’t have kids to save your marriage – doing so will only result in both people sacrificing their former selves leaving them dead (or empty corn husks).

***********

Second was The Mangler, for the same reason I read Children of the Corn first.  The Mangler is the name used by industrial laundry workers for a piece of equipment.  The equipment becomes possessed, and wouldn’t you know it, when the detective (who’s not on the case) figures out it was possessed, didn’t realize that one of the ‘ingredients’ in the big time “all shit hits the fan” possessions was in the medication of one of the workers – she dropped some of it in the machine by accident.  The detective and his scholar friend decide they must do an exorcism, and well…it goes terribly wrong, i.e., the shit hit the fan.

The best part of this book is the explanation of how this story came about.  Stephen King Goes to the Movies has a one or two page explanation from Stephen King about the story as a movie and his thoughts on the result. Prior to The Mangler, King tells us where the story came from.

I am going to reserve judgement on whether I liked this story, until I read some of the other stories he wrote about inanimate objects going nuts…Christine comes to mind.

**********

1408 came next. I really liked this movie; I thought John Cusack did a great job with it; and I suspect this is one of the reasons why I bought this book (the other reasons were Hearts in Atlantis and Shawshank Redemption).

One of the things I like about Stephen King is his ability write about real people (or in the case of The Mangler, a machine with a “real” personality).  I liked 1408 more for the author who didn’t believe in what he was writing, than for the story about the room (1408).  The main character, author Mike Enslin, wrote a series of books about ‘haunted houses’ – hated writing them, but they paid the bills, and they were easy.  He comes upon a story about a haunted room at the Hotel Dolphin and refuses to take no for an answer when the hotel manager tries to dissuade him from spending the night.  Enslin doesn’t believe in ghosts or hauntings or anything of a supernatural nature; and the hotel manager, Mr. Olin, believes this is exactly why he’s going to have a tough night. The room is “responsible” for many suicides, 30 deaths that were deemed by natural causes, and terminal illnesses for people who went in.  As expected, the room goes ballistic, and what turns out to be only seventy minutes in the room affects Enslin for the rest of his life, starting with “twenty or even thirty” skin grafts from a fire in the room.  In the end, Enslin was done writing and had a multitude of health problems.

Let’s go back to my comment about Stephen King’s characters being “real”.  We ALL know someone who hates what s/he is doing for work.  They do it because it “pays the bills” and at some point, if they are lucky, they have some crazy moment when enough is enough.  According to King, he finished the story because the main character began to interest him:

“a cynical hack (who once coulda been a contender) churned out books debunking supposedly haunted locations, started to interest me.” What, I wondered, would happen if such a fellow had to face the real thing.”

Two reasons this interested me.  The first reason is stated above the quote.  The second reason is I’ve always wondered what authors who push out one or two books a year actually think about the vehicle they use for their stories – the likes of Nora Roberts comes to mind.  At what point do they get tired of writing the same story with the same plot, with the same characters whose names are the only difference from the previous year’s book?  At what point do they have a strange “crisis of faith” (?) that allows them to move on from where they’ve been pigeon-holed?

**********

Shawshank Redemption is a great story about hope.  My favorite line in both the book and the story is when Red, played by Morgan Freeman in the movie, says:

“Its always comes down to two choices.  Get busy living or get busy dying.”

On the surface this story is about a man (Andy) wrongly accused of murdering his wife, and the subsequent years he spent in Shawshank prison…and his subsequent jailbreak twenty-seven years after being sent to the prison.  That’s the basis of the story.  The underlying story is about survival.  There are parts that are brutal (Andy’s encounters with “the Sisters”) and horrifying, however, these parts are described in a way that puts images in your mind without actually using too many words. Frankly, these sections are more left up to the imagination, and are only possibly because of the narration of what prison life is like. The development of love and respect between Red and Andy is written differently – subtle recognition of the relationship developing between these two men.

The story is Red’s perception of Andy and the life he led in Shawshank prison, and his conjecture of how Andy escaped.  As you read the story, you begin to develop the sense that Red respects Andy for his quiet nature.  By the time the reader gets to Red’s idea of what really happened in Andy’s escape and exactly how it happened (including a possible time-line), you understand Red knows Andy (and Andy’s life) better than anyone and that he thinks the world of Andy.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I find so intriguing about King. The subtlety.  More often than not, there are layers upon layers of plot and character development which lead the reader to very subtle contemplation about an aspect of the human condition.

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Last, not least, is Hearts in Atlantis (“Low Men in Yellow Coats“).  This is another of those “I loved the movie and couldn’t wait to read the story” moments.  Of course I said this even though the story has been sitting in my Stephen King section of my book stack.  I read this in a completely different light than I watched the movie.  It wasn’t until the movie was over that there were ties to the Dark Tower series.  I suspect if I saw the movie again after reading the story, I wouldn’t enjoy it as much, because of the parts of the story that are missing.

Two things happened while reading this story.  The first I got a better understanding of how it related to the Dark Tower series; and I immediately ordered The Regulators (by Richard Bachman, King’s pseudonym) and Desperation – which by the way, just arrived from Amazon about five minutes ago.

Besides being a must for Dark Tower readers, “Low Men in Yellow Coats” seems to be, on the surface, a “coming of age” story; much like Stand By Me, It, and various others.  However, deeper below the surface, once again, we have a love story, on a bunch of different levels.  This story is about the friendship between a twelve year old, fatherless child (Bobby) and the old creepy guy (Ted) who just moved upstairs from the boy and his mom.  Its also about the development of pre-adolescence love between the boy and his girl friend; and strangely, a love story between a boy and his mom.  I wish there was more about Bobby’s life after he moved; and I think Carol may have been a fascinating character in a later book.  There is, according to King, an unfinished story about Carol.  If it ever got published, I’d love to read it.

Mom is angry and bitter and blames Bobby’s father for her crappy life, even though he’s been dead for many years. There are fabulous contradictions between Bobby and his mother through out the story which become the catalyst for understanding Bobby is growing up past that “I’m a child and I rely (and believe) everything my mom tells me” stage.  This aspect of the story is tumultuous and nasty, but ultimately resolves itself.  Bobby still loves his mother more than anything and in her strange broken way, loves and learns to respect him as someone who isn’t her dead husband.

Having read From a Buick 8 recently, I loved the description of the Low Men’s cars, and immediately realized that the car in From a Buick 8 is probably a Low Man’s car. This correlation led me to wonder if the ‘Man in Black’ from The Gunslinger was a Low Man.  I loved the conversation with Ted and the Low Men about the fact that there’s a gunslinger, and he and his friends have made it to the borderlands; and the explanations about Ted being a Breaker and the references to the Beam.  I was giddy with excitement when I got to this part.  For the first time, I think, I understood the magnitude of what Stephen King was writing in so many of his books and stories.

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I didn’t set out to write this much when I began this morning.  I thank you for taking the time to read this.  Other books I’ve read over the last week or two are: From a Buick 8, The Drawing of the Three (Book II of the Dark Tower series); I’ve started Wastelands (Book III of the Dark Tower series) and I read a interesting Stephen King interview in the Paris Review issue 178, Fall 2006.  ps.  if you’ve never picked up the Paris Review – you should. Its got great interviews with authors, short stories, and poetry.  I’ll be sharing some thoughts on the above three books in the coming days/weeks.

but right now, I’ve got three new books to go read…

I like glitter!  I have since I was a little girl doing those silly craft projects in early elementary school.  You know which ones I’m talking about – the ones that pre-school and early education teachers have their students do every holiday so that the kids’ moms and dads have something hand-made from their children.  Remember?  The ones where the teacher made lines of Elmer’s glue and you got to dump tons and tons of primary color glitter all over the paper and when it dried it looked like a Christmas bell to hang on the tree or a shamrock with a magnet on the backside to hand on the fridge or an Easter egg to add to the Easter morning decorations.  However, the caveat to that is I never ever use glitter – haven’t since the early years of homemade projects for the Christmas tree.

When Hachette Book Group offered an opportunity to read and review Waking Up in the Land of Glitter by Kathy Cano-Murillo, I couldn’t resist.

Waking Up in the Land of Glitter was a fun read on the crafty level.  The story is about self-discovery, for the most part.  In the course of self-discovery, the female characters find friendship in the unlikeliest of places – a craft group.

For me, there was a bit too much drama in each of the girl’s lives all at once, but the writing was good and the story was somewhat inspiring on the craft making level.  Since reading Waking Up in the Land of Glitter, I’ve gone nuts with Elmer’s Glue and box tops and Easter candy wrappers; I’ve stitched paper together to make cards, and I’ve looked longingly at glitter tubes in the craft section of stores; I’ve made a blank book, and I’ve studied the afghan my mother made me at Christmas to see if I could figure out how she did it.  Nothing in my house is safe right now.

One of the excellent things about Waking Up in the Land of Glitter is the two craft project ‘recipes’ at the back of the book.  There’s one for a love shrine, and one for growing a glittered Cactus garden – both are two featured craft projects in the book. I’m not sure I will every make a Cactus garden, but I’m definitely considering the love shrine. The story in Waking Up in the Land of Glitter is centered around these two craft projects; and I think it was an added bonus for the author to add these two projects at the end.

The other great consideration made by the author is including a Spanish/Spanglish glossary.  The book has many Spanish terms throughout the dialogue.  The glossary gives the meaning of these terms as they are used by Star (the main character).

Kathy Cano-Murillo’s book had me surfing through her website within minutes of finishing the book.  There are a million and twelve craft projects, a great blog with wonderful pictures of her art; and links to all her craft books and the Crafty Chica line of art supplies. The site is colorful and chock-ful of great information.  Her blog is fun to read and as inspiring as her book.

I’m not positive everyone will enjoy this drama-filled book, but for those those that pick it up and read it, I would like to issue a warning:  Its very possible that your ‘inner craft goddess’ may begin to stir and eventually demand that you unleash her.  If this occurs, do not fight it.  Take a look around you, there’s a million things you can make with a little glue, some thread, a pair of scissors, and yes…glitter.  I think I am at the Ofie stage of my crafting, and you may be too…but that’s okay.  Allow your craft goddess to take you on an inspiring adventure of self-discovery.

I liked the girl she used to be by David Cristofano; and to go a bit further, this is one of the better “first novels” I’ve read in a long time.  Cristofano attempts to answer questions surrounding identity by introducing two characters who are damned to live lonely lives because of the identity of their respective parents.

The main character is Melody Grace McCartney, who at the young age of six, witnessed a member of the Mafia murder a man at her favorite Italian restaurant. Her family was put into the Witness Protection Program after an anonymous tip to the Feds that they were at the scene of a murder.  For twenty years, she’d been in the program and we meet her in the very beginning of the novel as one of her aliases – a school teacher in a small, boring town. Her parents were eventually killed by “the family” and there’s also a hit still on her life apparently.

Enter Jonathan (aka, Johnny or Little Johnny).  Jonathan is a little bit older than Melody…and just happens to be the son of the guy who killed the man in the restaurant…and just happens to be the anonymous tip that led to her family being put in Witness Protection.  He is also the family blacksheep in that he hasn’t committed murder and in fact was supposed to be the one that killed Melody’s parents, but couldn’t do (his cousin was the one who pulled the trigger because he choked).

The gist of the story is that figuring she has nothing to lose, Melody joins Jonathan in a strange plan to show his father/family that she isn’t a threat to the family.  There’s running from the U.S. Marshals, as well as from the Family, and there’s some romantic interludes between two people who want a different life than what they have but really can’t ever be together.

The story in and of itself is predictable and somewhat cliche (bordering on chick lit in some areas).  That said, I thought the story was a good one to use in questioning the concept of one’s identity and what happens when you have no idea who you are because you’ve been yanked out of the life you started out living (several times).

I thought the ending was excellent, except for the cliche wedding ring scene.  I would have liked to see a bit less romance involved in the telling of the story – I believe the ending could have been achieved without having had all the romance. Jonathan could have just been someone who hated the family he was born into rather than having fallen for the target.  There was no reason why it had to go into a romantic love thing just because he saw her innocence as a child prior to her world being turned inside out.  In some ways, the romance cheapened the story and made her weaker than what I thought she was going to be. There were other ways to show the loneliness of the two characters without having to go the “I’ve fallen in love with my captor/captive” route.

I really liked the concept that Melody was sick of the Witness Protection Program, didn’t feel safe knowing the U.S. Marshals were there to protect her (because her parents were in witness protection when they were killed), and so what did she have to lose by going with Jonathan – because ultimately if anyone could protect her from “the family” it would be someone from the family and mostly likely the safest person would have been the son who hated his family’s lifestyle.  Adding romance between the two of them lessened the ‘I’m f-in over it! I want a real life!’ resolve that she appeared to have in some areas of the book.

In fairness to the author though, he did try to show that love weakens not just the woman in this case but both a man and a woman. However, I think it would have been just as easy to have Jonathan a man of higher morals than the rest of his family rather than have him be the guy that couldn’t kill her because he loved her on some level that turned out to be romantic.

Despite these things, the girl i used to be was an entertaining read.  I really enjoyed the first paragraph where the author dared the reader to become involved in Melody’s story. This dare strategy worked, I read the book straight through and declared it a good book at the final word.  I didn’t contemplate the romance being a bit too much in the story while I was reading it, and frankly, I do wonder how Melody has gotten on in her new life and what exactly happened to Jonathan.  I also enjoyed the mathematical references throughout the book and the chapter titles were excellent.  The usage of math throughout the book to give readers some insight into who Melody was/had become was interesting and somewhat fascinating as a technique to help understand where the logic was in Melody’s decisions. Additionally, the author did a good job telling the story from a female perspective. I suspect its extremely difficult for an author of one gender to get it right when writing from the other gender’s perspective.

If you are looking for a bit of a mystery mixed with a little bit of romance and a splash of philosophical questions about what we want as human beings, then this book will be an enjoyable read. It also must be said, I am interested in seeing what comes next from Cristofano.  I think there’s real potential here, and as I do with all new authors, I’m hoping he doesn’t get pigeonholed and continues to produces books with interesting concepts and ideas.

The Girl She Used to Be
David Cristofano (Author)
Paperback: 272 pages
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing; 1 edition (March 10, 2010)

Let’s play a little word association game for a minute: If I say the word Siberia, what do you think of?  For me, the words would be Cold, Desolate, Punishment.  I suspect for most of us, that’s what we conjure in our minds when we hear the word.

Not for the sixty year old narrator of To Siberia by Per Petterson (translated by Anne Born).  To “Sistermine” (as she is called by her brother, Jesper), Siberia is a place better than where she grew up.  Her dream is to get on the Trans-Siberian rail all the way through, to experience this new place where people know how to be warm even in the coldest of times, a place where people are friendly and peaceful:

“And besides I shall sit on the train and look out of the window and talk to people, and they will tell me what their lives are like and what their thoughts are and ask me why I have come all the long way from Denmark.  Then I will answer them: ‘I have read about you in a book.’ And then we’ll drink hot tea from the samovar and be quiet together just looking.”

Our narrator comes from a loveless family.  Her grandfather and grandmother are almost never in the same room together. Her grandfather appears to be extremely disappointed in her father for being a Master Joiner, not a farmer:

“Now, Master Joiner,” he said, and I could not understand what was wrong with my father’s name that it could not be spoken aloud, his name was Magnus, Grandfather knew that well enough, but his voice sounded different from the one I was used to: “Why don’t you go home if you won’t drink with your own father?  You were never like the others, were you?  You have never known why, born in pain and begotten in more than pain, a thorn in the flesh from the start.  Go home to your warm house and leave the boy with me.”

How harsh is that?!  This statement is said in public during a scuttle between father and grandfather in a bar. And further evidence of this is grandfather leaving father nothing in his will after he died.

Her mom and dad aren’t much warmer towards each other:

“My mother is velvet, my mother is iron.  My father often stays silent and sometimes over dinner he picks up the burning hot pan by its iron handle and holds it until I have filled my plate, and when he puts it back I can see the red marks on his hand.”

We learn a great deal about mother, but she’s not really a central part of this story.  Mother says very few things, but we get the sense she wears the pants in the family.  Father tries his very best to provide for the family, but times are tough, and he ends up losing the business.

There is a stark difference between mother and father, and while I don’t recall if the book mentions how they met, there appears to be a class difference.  Father is from a family of farmers and (I think) mother fancies she is from a family of fishermen.  Though apparently, this is not accurate.  Mother, I would say, wishes she were somewhere else and is extremely disappointed with the way her life has turned out.

For the most part, To Siberia is about the narrator’s recollection of the loveless childhood she had.  We follow her memories through the years before WWII to the end of the war and then two years in her twenties.  The book is touted to be about this great bond between sister and brother. While there was a lot of memories that encompassed the things she did with her brother, I got the feeling it was the type of bond you’d find between any younger sibling and his/her older sibling who realized family life was pretty lacking in the affection and they had to stick together to find some semblance of love and understanding.  Our narrator idolized her brother.  He looked after her and tried to include her in most everything he did.  I don’t think the book is about the bond as much as it tells of the things that made her life not so full of despair.

Interestingly, her childhood story is basically over when she is almost fifteen and Jesper (her brother) goes away because he is part of a resistance movement against Nazi occupation.  It is also at this point in the story, when there’s some questions about the sexuality of brother and sister which leaves the reader to wonder what has happened previously between the two children that shared a small bedroom.  I did find this an interesting segment – wondering why it was put in the storyline at all. I believe the narrator’s budding sexuality was a metaphor for the end of childhood, coinciding with Jesper leaving and the end of this time period of the story.  Life would never be the same with Jesper leaving AND the ‘age of innocence’ was over.

She’s twenty-two the next time we see her (Part III).  She’s lived in Amsterdam previous to this. Now she’s living with an old Aunt, working in her Aunt’s coffee shop.  Over the years, she’s kept in touch with Jesper via letters every few weeks.  He’s in Morocco (his childhood dream), and they are planning on seeing each other when he comes home. She meets a man in the coffee shop who is smitten with her and though she fights it, she begins to warm up to him.  But, not in the way we think.  She becomes pregnant and shortly after that, she has a letter from Jesper and decides it time to go home.

When she gets home, she finds Jesper is not there. And nothing has changed.

“How dare you come into the house of sorrow in this way? Have you no shame?” Her hands were clasped in front of her, and I saw the flaming sword.
I turned to my father.  He still sat in his chair looking down at his lap.  I stared at him until he had to raise his eyes, and he shook his head like an old man and turned away and looked into the wall.  He had nothing to give, and I would not beg.”

The story ends with her living in a different town, at twenty-three years old, pregnant, helping on a farm with a childhood friend’s uncle and his family.  Sadly, we never know if she gets to Siberia, or if she every feels the warmth she so desperately desires.

This 245 page novel is sad and dark.  There is striking symbolism throughout the book.  The most prevalent is the temperature.  Its always cold to our narrator.  She lives in a physically cold world, but also an emotionally cold world.  And she has become numb.  We see it in the few references to sex and the words she uses to describe her own child’s conception.  We see it in the way she describes her mother, and the scene setting surrounding where her mother is at any given moment.  The only place she finds warmth and solace are in cows and her dream of going to Siberia.

The story is told in a matter-of-fact way, and I was astounded by the honesty of the narrator fifty-something years later, beginning the story from the eyes of her six or seven year old self. There aren’t many authors that can translate memories over decades to include the innocent thoughts and interpretations of events and situations of a seven year old and make his/her reader believe them.  And as the narrator grew so did her interpretations of different events.

I don’t know if I would classify this book as one of the best I’ve read, but technically, its a winner. The most interesting thing I realized after finishing the book was, in a strange way, I was detached from the story.  I didn’t love or hate any of the characters. Its striking to me, actually, how detached I am to the narrator or any of the characters. If this is what the author was striving for, then he succeeded.  And I’m not sure I’ve ever enjoyed a book where I felt nothing, but I did enjoy To Siberia.

If you are someone who likes metaphors and symbolism more than having the thoughts and feelings of the characters spelled out to you; or if you want to experience a well-written book where you may feel nothing for the characters (a rare occurance to be sure), I highly recommend To Siberia by Per Petterson.

Who is Ted Kennedy? To be completely frank, I knew of him only as the younger brother of Jack and Bobby, senator of Massachusetts, and the guy in the Chappaquiddick “thing.”  I use the word “thing” because I didn’t really know what happened other than some girl died and he was driving. When Ted Kennedy died, I was struck by the amount of people who paid their respects during the memorial and the funeral.  I was intrigued by what people were saying about this man, friends and foes, on the news channels.

Who was this man?

I wanted to know the answer to this question.  I requested True Compass for review, not really expecting to receive it, due to its popularity.  However, Twelve Books sent it.  When it arrived, I got out my pencils and went to work trying to understand who this man was.

Memoirs are written to tell the story the subject wants you to know about his or her life.  I am fully aware of this. I am not sure what I expected when I began reading True Compass, but I was thrilled with its easy, conversational tone. I am not sure there is any politician out there who doesn’t use a ghost writer and if you pay close attention, you can figure out which voice is which in a memoir. I have no idea what Ted Kennedy’s written voice is. However, I thought it was difficult to tell where his voice ended and Ron Powers voice began.

In reading True Compass, one thing that struck me is he never really expands on others reasons or failures during the events he tells about.  He mentioned his sister Rosemary’s “operation” and the role his father played, but never used the word lobotomy and never tried to offer conjecture on what Joe Sr. felt about this horrible event.  Many events are described this way.  He discribes events from his perspective and nothing more.  The above-mentioned event happened when he was a child and that’s the perspective he gave.

When he is discussing his own role in certain events, he states the equivalent to:

I regret my failings and accept responsibility for them and will leave it at that. (specifically, this was in regards to his relationship with Joan, his first wife).

Another striking aspect of this memoir is how interlaced family was to his life. Over the course of the book, he will tell about time he spent as an adult with his brothers, and then end with something like, ‘to this day, I still miss Jack’s smile.’

When I closed True Compass, I thought what a social tragedy that the Kennedy’s were put on a pedestal.  Sure, they had LOTS of money, and sure three of the boys went into the very public life of politics; but, they were a regular family.  They weren’t just a rich family that sat in their home in Hyannis Port; they all tried to help those less fortunate than they were.  And regardless of your politics, you have to admire that.

Ted Kennedy’s memoir is written in a matter-of-fact tone and gives away no family secrets. If a reader is looking for the deep dark secrets of the Kennedy family, he or she will be sorely disappointed.

He says of the Warren Commission that Bobby “did not want to continue to investigate Jack’s death.” Ted was satisfied with the findings and and, Bobby was too. And he says:

I was satisfied then, and satisfied now.

and in regard to Bobby’s satisfaction with the Commission report:

I’m always reluctant to speak for my brother, but I know how strongly Bobby felt that it was imperative that this inquiry be thorough and accurate.  In all my subsequent conversations with him, when all was said and done, I believe that Bobby accepted the Warren Commission findings too.

Of Chappaquiddick he says this (after telling the events as he remembers them):

I am not proud of these hours.  My actions were inexcusable.  Perhaps I have not made my acknowledgment of this clear enough over the years.

and then:

Atonement is a process that never ends.  I believe that.  Maybe it’s a New England thing, or an Irish thing, or a Catholic thing.  Maybe all of those things.  But it’s as it should be.

On the emotional front, Ted Kennedy strays from the matter-of fact tone only when talking of his own grief and the role the ocean played in his healing. Its no secret being on the water soothed the Lion of the Senate.  He tells of the first time being in a boat offered him solace. The news that Joe, jr.  had died had just come to his brothers, sisters and mother.  The family let the news sink in for about 15 minutes before Jack said, “Joe wouldn’t want us sitting here crying.  He would want us to go sailing.”

And Ted says of this moment:

My countless hours upon the sea have mostly been happy ones.  this was the first of the many times when taking the tiller has steered me away from nearly unendurable grief across the healing waters on the long, hard course toward renewal and hope.

Of Jack’s death and how he coped with the grief, he says:

It was in these moments, when I was out of sight of anyone else, just the sea on one side of me and the sand on the other, that I would let go of my self-control.

It never occurred to me to seek professional help or grief counseling of any kind.  The times were different then.  But I prayed and I thought and I prayed some more.

Of Bobby’s death he says:

Life and politics, went on.  But not in the same way.  Not for me.  I was shaken to my core.

and

The months following Bobby’s death are a blur in my memory…I got into my car and drove toward Capital Hill.  Whne the Senate Office Building came into view, I began breathing heavily.  I turned the car around and went home.

And again, he would go sailing.  The chapter titled Bobby ends with,

I surrendered myself to the sea and the wind and the sun and the stars on these voyages.”

“And on these nights in particular, my grieving was subsumed into the sense of oneness with the sky and the sea.”

“I gazed at the night sky often on those voyages, and thought of Bobby.

Throughout the book, he talks a great deal about the love he had for his brothers. His whole life he wanted to be like them.  He was the youngest brother of a family of nine and early on his father told Ted if he wasn’t useful, he wouldn’t have the time for him, because there were people in the family who would have need of their father’s time.  Little Ted Kennedy doted on his older brothers and from what I could tell, had an everlasting love for them even long after they’d gone.

And the only cuss word Ted uses in the whole book comes in this passage:

Let me acknowledge here that a loyal and loving brother cannot provide a dispassionate view of John Kennedy’s presidency.  Much has been written about his personal life.  A lot of it is bullshit.  All of it is beyond my scope of my direct experience.

On the political front, as one would expect from a Ted Kennedy memoir, a great deal of time is spent discussing health care and his own introduction to our society’s health care institution. By no means, does this mean, health care is all he discusses politically.  There are some intriguing bits and pieces about each Presidents’ decision over the course of Kennedy’s time in the Senate.

I preface this next part with I am not a student of political science.  I have only recently really started trying to get to the crux of what is going on in American politics.  And have given myself the personal challenge of reading more political-centric books in 2010.  That said, I am intrigued by the trends in political discourse and the way the different parties use the exact same tactics every few years.  One can easily see the same tactics used today in Congress, as were used during the Nixon, Reagan, and Clinton eras. It was actually astounding as as I went back and looked at the notes I took while reading True Compass, the associations I made between Vietnam and Iraq/Afghanistan, and health care legislation today and medicare legislation.

After reading True Compass, I am reminded of that age old question, if you could have five people from history at a social gathering, which people would you choose?  I would choose Ted Kennedy – not the politician, but the man.  True Compass, in my humble opinion, is a book written by the man about the man.  He was not one to ever put his feelings on his sleeve; though I believe with the tragedy he faced throughout his life, this would have been perfectly acceptable to some extent.  He was a man living in the shadows of his family, until very late in life when Vicky helped him realize he didn’t have to anymore. And he was a man who despite the horrific tragedy, learned from his grandfather Honey Fitzgerald to “Love life, and believe in it.” And he tried, I think.

On page 480 of True Compass, he says:

What binds us together across our differences in religion or politics or economic theory is that when each one of us is cut, our blood flows red.  Mine does and yours does too.

That is a man I’d like to have at a social gathering – not to ask him questions about his life and his politics, but to instead watch him infuse a room full of people with the spirit of warmth and understanding that we are all equal.