TLC BLOG TOUR: THE PEACH KEEPER

Sarah Addison Allen does it again

Reader, I love this lady’s books! Love them!

I also sort of love her. Just join her facebook page or read her random Sarah Addison Allen facts on her exceptionally amusing website and you will be charmed.

Allen writes for the everywoman. If you speak “girl”, you will LOVE Sarah Addison Allen. She pays attention to the slight magic that silvers every day experiences, she turns fairytales out of the ordinary and she crafts romantic twists, spins and turns that will send your heart thudding. Moreover, her recipe is made of the ingredients of normalcy. She makes you believe that this could happen to you and drives it home with characters, towns and instances painted with utter realism.

If you have a heart, a penchant to believe in the extraordinary and the slightest will to imagine the impossible, then Sarah Addison Allen’s well-defined characters make you believe that something is just waiting for you around a colourful corner--- in the same way it is waiting for them.

You cannot JUST read the Peach Keeper. Buy it and savour it, yes, but know that when you turn the last page that a.) you will go and thumb through the book to re-visit your favourite parts b.) you will immediately want to revisit Sarah Addison Allen Land and will be itching to get your hands on anything else she has written.

If you have read and enjoyed Alice Hoffman, Angela Carter, Fannie Flagg, Billie Letts , Cathy Lamb or Rebecca Wells, you will LOVE Sarah Addison Allen. I argue that she is the best of all because, like the best authors, she allows her personality drip through into every word.

There is something comforting about reading a Sarah Addison Allen book, something that spirits you to a time and place you are nostalgic for ( even if you never lived there), something that folds you in the relaxing aura of home. Care-free and shoes-kicked-off, you’ll sink into her story and not want to leave.

At the center of the Peach Keeper are two remarkable women: former high-school prankster Willa Jackson and socialite Paxton Osgoode. Though their paths have crossed numerous times in the small town of Walls of Water, North Carolina, deeply-hidden family secrets, twists of romance, and the excavation of the dark and disturbing past plaguing the renovation of the Blue Ridge Madam inn bind them together in a way that asserts and exhibits both of their strengths and weaknesses. Though starkly different, Willa and Paxton’s pasts, determination and flaws complement each other remarkably. You will see a little of yourself in each of these heroines ( as you will in all of Addison Allen’s heroines) and you will root for their triumphs and the romance that awaits each in the least likely of places.

This is a marvelous, engaging, curl-up-with-a-cup-of-tea book that will have you sighing for hours after you leave it.

At times painful, romantic, sparkling, mysterious and humourous, you will live for the characters and hope every last thread will be tied into a knot worthy of their happy endings.

Don’t worry---they will be.


Alongside my copy of the Peach Keeper, I received a Yankee Candle---peach flavoured and featuring the book’s delicious cover.

What a treat!

But, the best treat of all was the arrival of a new Sarah Addison Allen--- she’s a book drug if ever there was one

Follow the TLC Blog Tour here:

My sincere thanks to TLC for granting me the privilege of diving into a new Allen book!

So THIS is what Lynn Austin Sounds Like...

Everyone in the world knows that I am a HUGE Lynn Austin fan.

Love her! LOVE HER! love her!

Consider this paragraph from my review of Fire by Night, my favourite of her reams of excellent novels:

I usually look for expert characterization, deftly-woven plot, some humour, some sparkle, some originality: some historical what-have-you in my historicals; some carefully-planted mayhem in my murder mysteries; the books that make me giggle and clap and gasp at their brilliance ( I have said before, I am an effusive reader). Lynn Austin ignites all of these things.

What makes Lynn Austin special to me ( for special she is ) is the fact that her works hit me on a deeper, spiritual level.

This is not mere infatuated emotionalism: the kind I reserve for the books I love, love, love. Austin validates in an erudite and carefully plotted fashion the role and journey of any woman of faith

Reading a Lynn Austin book for me is empowering: spiritually, emotionally, personally.

When her profundities surge through the page I am not just rattled in my usual "La! Such brilliance fashion"; but rattled, rather, to the core.

If I am having an off-kilter moment, if I am grappling at some truth in relation to Christianity if I am feeling, what with all my passionate opinions and strict independence, like I do not fit the mold of the ideal Christian woman ---Lynn Austin makes it okay.

Yah. I love her work. I do! I do! Back when I had twitter ( if you all remember), I started a Lynn Austin #hashtag campaign just before the release of her novels. Good times. Very few people subscribed; but I persevered.

Annnnyways.... I discovered this interview with Bethany House today. Why this elates me? If I have read an author's voice for so long, I am always interested to hear what they sound like. I got to hear Ms. Austin's voice for the first time as she elaborates on the writing process, speaks to the moving Though Waters Roar, takes us through the development of While We're Far Apart and even hints at the book publishing in October. Listen to this!

What stood out for me?

Her discussions on:

Characters taking lives on their own

-The strange and providential intervention that kick-started her career

-The challenges of writing during the distraction of real life.

-Her belief that the intended message will get across without preaching to it in a blatant way.

-A bulletin board of templates

-Finding her interconnected themes ( which are always poignant, potent and moving) after writing large chunks of the novel.

I hope you enjoy as much as I did!

HAPPY EASTER !

“Easter Our imitation of God in this life -- that is, our willed imitation, as distinct from any likenesses which He has impressed upon our natures or our states -- must be an imitation of God Incarnate. Our model is the Jesus, not only of Calvary, but of the workshop, the roads, the crowds, the clamorous demands and surly oppositions, the lack of all peace and privacy, the interruptions. For this, so strangely unlike anything we can attribute to the divine life in itself, is apparently not only like, but is, the divine life operating under human conditions.” --C.S. Lewis

Christianity is a power religion. Christ has the power to re-create men from the inside out, as every man who has ever met Him knows. --Peter Marshall

“Continuing a short series of verse on Christ: Hard it is, very hard, To travel up the slow and stony road To Calvary, to redeem mankind; far better To make but one resplendent miracle, Lean through the cloud, lift the right hand of power And with a sudden lightning smite the world perfect. Yet this was not God's way, Who had the power, But set it by, choosing the cross, the thorn, The sorrowful wounds. Something there is, perhaps, That power destroys in passing, something supreme, To whose great value in the eyes of God That cross, that thorn, and those five wounds bear witness.” --Dorothy L. Sayers

Long my Imprisoned spirit lay,

fast bound in sin and nature's night;

thine eye diffused a quickening ray;

I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;

my chains fell off, my heart was free,

I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

My chains fell off, my heart was free,

I rose, went forth, and followed thee"

--Charles Wesley

A Heart Most Worthy by Siri Mitchell

First off, I want to thank Ruth for sending this my way! Thank you, Ruth!

Next to Lynn Austin, Siri Mitchell is my favourite Christian writer in the historical genre and she gives us another strong offering in a series that focuses on fashion through the ages.

Here, the fashion theme is blatant: the story follows three young Italian seamstresses working for the formidable Mme. Fortier in 1917 Boston. The outside world is fraught with conflict: immigrants, anarchists, the Spanish Influenza, the American involvement in the Great War. Near home, Annamaria, Julietta and Luciana discover life and love in a delightful coming-of-age tale told in the style reminiscent of Montgomery or Alcott.

I should speak a little more to the narrative style. As proven in A Constant Heart and Love's Pursuit, Mitchell enjoys playing with narrative perspective in voice. In the glorious, INSPYs-winning, She Walks in Beauty ( which I certainly enjoyed reviewing and commenting on as a judge in the historical category ), it is ephemera: in society columns and newspaper clippings that informs Mitchell's unique narration.

I must admit that the voice in A Heart Most Worthy was grating on me at times: especially with consistent asides to the reader and with the same word ending a perspective and being used, in a slightly different context, to begin the next narrative point of view. However, I got used to it very quickly and it did not detract at all from my enjoyment of the story and its meticulous historical research. In fact, I am impressed by Mitchell's constant dedication to reinventing her story-telling technique. In a genre and market-place steeped in same-old, same-old tradition, it is nice that someone takes risk.

While Mitchell's narrative voice informs of many character triumphs and failings, it is still up to the reader to judge on their own while watching the action unfold.

There is plenty of action: from an assassinated count's daughter to a Romeo and Juliet love story between a young seamstress and the Sicilian grocer across the road to a passionate woman who skips confession to meet a sinister young man in questionable situations.

Mitchell handles the historical aspects, as always, with great fervour and respect and weaves them seamlessly into her tale. Moreover, she is true to the Catholic faith and tradition as it would have been the most prominent and lasting religion in the Italian Immigrant world. She is able to pursue great themes of faith and God's redemptive power in a religion not often at the forefront of evangelical Christian fiction ( Austin did this quite well with the Jewish faith in While We're Far Apart).

Perhaps my favourite thread in the story ( something I share with Books, Movies and Chinese Food's amazon review) is the developing love between Annamaria and the sweet grocer, Rafaello. In tradition, Annamaria, as eldest daughter, is expected to remain single, childless and devout to her family. When she meets the forbidden Sicilian grocer's son and begins a sweet, often wordless communication, she realizes that all of the dreams she has harboured guiltily for so long must become reality. She finds a voice, a backbone and the courage to attend to her own desires. Rafaello's devotion to her family, his enemies, is a great act of love (putting one in mind of the great sacrifice made in Love's Pursuit).

As per usual, I was delighted to have a new Siri Mitchell in my hands and I identified with aspects of each of the strong, different and equally amazing women and their plights in self-discovery and love.

Because I am such a massive Lynn Austin fan and because Austin excels at weaving multiple story and character lines within periods of history ( especially exploring a woman's place in a domestic sphere and in the greater sphere of historical significance), more than once my mind tried to conceptualize how she would deal with this experience were the plot submitted to her hand.

A great read and one I am sure will be seen on the INSPYs shortlist again.

Dear George Clooney, Please Marry my Mom by Susin Nielsen

Dear George Clooney: Please Marry My Mom by Susin Nielsen is a delightful middle-grade novel featuring a wonderfully spunky heroine. Recalling Judy Blume and Harriet-the-Spy, this coming-of-age tale is set in soggy Vancouver. A heroine whose mood and resoluteness is as steady as the steely-rain weather, Violet will steal your heart. Violet speaks right to us as she recalls the events that led to her director father leaving with the blonde bimbo star of a failed tv show. With their father living in Los Angeles with said blonde bimbo, Violet, her sister and her mother are left in a dilapidated house, scraping pennies and trying to get by. What’s worse, Violet’s mother insists on compulsive dating and when she sets her sights on the unfortunately named Dudley Weiner, Violet springs into action.


Divorce stories are nothing new in middle-grade fiction; but this one was teeming with realism. Violet’s embarrassment, awkwardness and roller-coaster emotions clearly established the author’s validity. I felt what Violet felt and even at her most mischievous, she was endearing. Rather like Harriet the Spy ( and at times with similar antics), Violet has the ability to be synonymously charming and prickly. When Violet decides that George Clooney is the only man for her mom and begins writing him deliciously detailed letters, the plot really springs into action. These letters alone make the novel worth reading. Nielsen has perfectly captured the pre-teen voice. Violet’s first crush, aversion to affection, desperation to avenge her mother’s honour and take vengeance on her father’s actions were vital, lucid and real. I was stunned by how well the author possessed the thoughts and psyche of a typical 7th grader. This offering from Tundra has received critical acclaim. In fact, it was that acclaim that led me to pick it up in the first place. I am glad I did.

Mildred Pierce Review

I started watching Mildred Pierce on HBO a few weeks ago and only finished it last evening. It is a long and gruesome production, ticking solemnly by-- very much as I imagine the dirty thirties did--- with nowhere to go and little money to spend things on ( to paraphrase Scout in To Kill A Mockingbird). Adapted from the James Cain novel--- which I vaguely remember reading in the insurmountable pile of books I read in high school and uni. ---it focuses on an ambitious woman in an unambitious time.

Mildred is a talented cook with a resolute spirit and more than a healthy dose of pride ( which is almost interpreted as snobbery in certain situations). When she learns her husband is having an affair, she kicks him out and falls prey as the victim of unpaid scandal. Not so long ago, no, but still in the age where women separated from their husbands had little chance at livelihood--- less of a chance during a country-wide depression.

Mildred scrapes by to raise her two daughters: the more formidable being the ghastly Veda, a snake-like red-head who is always ashamed of her mother, her circumstances and holds a general disdain for anything in her path. Veda's somewhat of a musical prodigy and Mildred worships her as a younger version of herself and does everything she can to ensure her happiness and opportunity.

A chance job as a waitress brings out Mildred's entrepreneurial side and soon Mildred is selling pies, opening chicken and waffle restaurants and carving a name and future for herself.

Veda is becoming more and more abhorrent and nothing that her resourceful and smart mother does is nearly good enough.

Mildred is a sensual and smart woman and has a few relationships that seem questionable in the still guarded and moral society of 1930s America. The most notable of these is with a dashing, be-moustached Monty: who can only afford to keep electricity in one wing of his sadly dust-gathered mansion. Mildred also retains a passable relationship with her first husband and with a friend and financial advisor named Wally.

As Veda grows older, Mildred, too, becomes prey to her daughter's vicious and manipulative personality. Coiled in her own pride and love and blinded by her insistence that Veda is just a stern and ambitious woman like herself, Mildred fails to see what the audience and nearly every other character in the miniseries does: that the central tragedy of the tale his Mildred's steadfast love for her daughter.

An almost surreal confrontation between Mildred and Veda is backed by a playfully eerie piano tune: weaving a carousel of melody that brings to light the almost vaudeville-esque antics of Veda and her puppetry of all around her: from her mother to Monty, the almost-step father she always held a disturbing attachment to.

What perhaps is most interesting about the film is how the camera lens shows but part of the unravelling of each scene. We are kept in periphery: never seeing the full picture. You'll catch glimpses of characters through slices of open windows, in the reflection of a doorframe they pass by, behind a passing car.... you are an established outsider, looking into this strange and well-formulated world.

As Veda's musicality progresses and upon discovery of her ultra talent as a bonafide coloratura, so does music play into the grand opus of the tale. I enjoyed the musical selection and thought Evan Rachel Wood did a passable job at lip synching the words from the beautiful voice cast as her double. The well-known standard, "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows", becomes a potent theme song for the eponymous character and her stumbles and strifes through 1930s California.

The locations were beautifully scouted and expertly filmed. The interiors were meticulously detailed and everything seemed a perfect recreation of the past. The costume changes were extensive (especially for Winslet and for the dozens and dozens of extras) and I fell in love with a vintage style that seems to be creeping back into our modern world.

As mentioned, this is a very moderately-paced miniseries (this from the girl who loves Dickens and Masterpiece Theatre) and is very tame for HBO. Perhaps the melodrama, iniquity, passion and blood we expect from this broadcasting corporation, is riddled in the character's ulterior motives and the underlying feelings and thoughts we are but given a small glimpse into.

The darker side, the inhuman and savage side, is most clearly seen in Veda: a heartless creature who will stop at nothing to rip out her mother's heart.

I have not see the Joan Crawford adaptation in years; but can well say that this decides not to play up on the noir aspects its predecessor did. Instead, this Mildred Pierce strips the less-obvious yet still telling and poignant struggles and circumstances, nuances and dialogue from its source material, crafting a solid, if slow, evaluation on the highs and lows of parental relationships amidst quelled ambition.

BOOKS in the NEWS!

• Michael Crummey
• Henning Mankell
• Anthony Horowitz reads from the House of Silk: A Sherlock Holmes novel
• Sarah Addison Allen's charming ode to the spell of books
• Heather Reisman, CEO of Indigo, faces digital reckoning
• obsessed "Windies" pay homage to their favourite novel with a trip to Atlanta
• the Quill and Quire discusses the role publishing plays at the polls in the upcoming Canadian election ( especially in light of tonight's televised debates)
• My favourite Book of the Bible is filmed (starring 80s and 90s contemporary Christian music video star, Carman, as Boaz)
• can it be worse than the technicolour 1960s treatment?
• More people that recognize Kate Griffin's ( it's really Catherine Webb: she of the 'Horatio Lyle' novels ) brilliance
• Have you friended a fictional facebook friend yet? Try Melrose Plant or Sydney Carton

why women love Mr. Rochester

I was fortunate enough to do a guest post at Booktalk and More about WHY WE LOVE MR. ROCHESTER ( because we do).....This is part of Ruth's All Things Jane series which is super awesome.

GO READ IT!

Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare

Clorkwork Angel by Cassandra Clare was majorly on sale at the airport on Sunday as I embarked on another work trip. I thought I would pick it up to read on the plane. Confession: I immediately loved the cover of the novel and had read all about the appearance of another addition to the popular Steampunk genre.


Orphaned Tessa Gray is desolate when her aunt dies knowing that the meager life she led is a comparative solace to the loneliness of being all alone as a young Victorian woman. When her brother sends for her, including a steamer ship passage to London with his telegram, Tessa embarks on a journey across the ocean to the vast, dirty and mystical world of London. Things take a nasty turn when she is kidnapped by the Dark Sisters and made to practice and hone her, until now unknown, shape-shifting ability to help them plan their own infernal purposes. A chance encounter with a dapper young hero named Will transplants her to the world of the Shadowhunters: a community strongly linked with the supernatural. Demons, vampires, goblins and other creatures of the night now populate her world and as Tessa draws closer to this esoteric community and becomes more and more attached to Will and his gleaming, fragile best friend Jem, Tessa learns that she and her brother are part of a much larger mechanism propelling the city from underneath.




A dark, sinister and enchanting tale of human device stripped of soul ( sometimes literally), Clockwork Angel is an engaging, rapid-fast addition to the urban fantasy genre. I really liked Clare’s London: vaguely painted and outlined so that the reader can import their own ideas and colour in the lines. I also enjoyed the peripheral characters and was impressed at how well Clare developed them. It is quite obvious she knows her “World” like the back of her hand and all of the players within it. Finally, the erudite quotes that well-represent each chapter, and flashed at their headings, and the informed way she inserts literary references and Tessa’s affinity to books that feel like home to her, was welcome. Perhaps most welcome was Clare’s understanding of the publishing world of the era. She didn’t slip up once at knowing what would be available and by whom. I was pleasantly surprised. She shows great knowledge and depth in her writing for teens. There is, of course, a love triangle and it will be interesting to see how fellow readers make their choice for which of the dazzling heroes and why. I am very sternly set on my “pick” and would love to discuss if anyone wants to throw their two cents in.


I will definitely read more of this fun and smartly dark series and hope that Clare publishes the next installment shortly. Tessa becomes stronger and more willful as the story progresses and teenage girls should find plenty to admire in her ( more than they would ever find in that stupid, white-faced, fall-over-at-the-drop-of-a-dime- Bella Swan). A smarter offering in this genre --- Readers who enjoy the love triangle of Twilight will find a vastly superior plot and character vehicle here and those pining for the resurrection of the Hunger Games will enjoy its spirited kick-ass heroine and the boys who pine for her. Good Times.

The Nurse's Social Media Advantage by Robert Fraser

...And now for Something Completely Different.... If I know you and you write a book, I will write about your book on this here blog. I happen to know a guy who wrote a book. It's about nurses and the fortitude of social engagement, media and promotion to instill a sense of community and outreach while inspiring ideas, collaboration and community. Yes, this book may sound a tad esoteric for those of us out of his field; but for those in Robert Fraser's field, he is quite the thing.... Widely published and well-respected in the field of Nursing in Toronto and beyond, Fraser has optimized social media to engage in the subject most passionate to him and to his extensive academic study. From podcasts to innovative teaching, collaboration and research ( see Fraser's impressive background here), Fraser is utilizing the most creative outlets to speak to professionals in his field and beyond. ->Present and near-past events have presented with certainty the vital and groundbreaking platform Social Media can become when needed to propel and purport ideas into action. For those interested in how Social Media can be used in a myriad of areas--- including Nursing and Health Care, then Robert Fraser's new book is the prime option to start. You can purchase The Nurse's Social Media Advantage on amazon and read more about Fraser and his area of study on his website. Follow Rob on twitter and read his erudite and cited blog. well-played, Robert Fraser!

I love people who claim a vital space for themselves through research and perserverance

Advanced Screening of Jane Eyre? YES PLEASE

From Eye Weekly ""Their tonal differences amount to a perfectly realized chemistry, rendering one of the most tragic literary love stories indelible and, though appropriately chaste, viscerally hot."

I was thrilled to attend an advanced screening of Jane Eyre last night in Toronto and I am even more thrilled to express that I genuinely respected the new adaptation.

The last Jane Eyre we have is (my personal favourite) the 4 hour BBC 2006 version with Toby Stephens and Ruth Wilson. If this is the last Jane Eyre you have seen and considering that the director mentioned that his preferred cut was 3.5 hours in length, you can do nought but acknowledge the story’s brevity.

It is framed by Jane’s arrival at St. John Rivers’ house, traces back to her childhood at Mrs. Reed’s and Lowood and progresses forward to the pivotal year at Thornfield.

We have a quiet, somewhat abrupt and languid Jane Eyre that heavily plays up on its gothic sense. Things go bump in the night, shadows dance on the actor’s faces and Thornfield is an elegant maze of strange, curtained drawing rooms and creaky nooks and paths.

This element helps make this adaptation the most accessible I have seen for those uninitiated. It is craftily filmed and draws on the same use of colour lightening last year’s stunning Bright Star.

Judi Dench plays a venerable Mrs. Fairfax and Jamie Bell does what he can with the thankless role of St. John Rivers.

Mia Wasikowska is a challenging, pure, resolute and straightforward Jane whose iron will is displayed in beautifully rendered scenes when her moral fibre is challenged.

Rochester, of course, is the make-or-break of any Jane Eyre adaptation ( from the disturbing Orson Welles through the nonchalant William Hurt to the barking Ciaran Hinds who yelled his way through his relationship with Samantha Morton to the wholly miscast Timothy Dalton). Michael Fassbender is cognizant that he is playing into the putty of the Byronic ideal and that this character has been defined, often by playing up its aggressive and violent elements, countless times before. This recognition forces him to play with his eyes. Watch his physiognomy as he livens to Jane’s quick responses and his desperation to penetrate her every thought.


The best scene in the film is the scene after the house fire when Jane and Rochester stand in his half-lit chamber. They did this remarkably well and there is a palpable tension.

The dialogue is stripped directly from the novel and the language is delicious and well executed. My main concern comes with the witling of staple plot points like Grace Poole. They evade the Gypsy scene altogether (don’t blame them. That is a tough one).

When the major conflict arises it does so powerfully and yet in a straightforward manner. Jane’s resolution following it is magnificent to behold.


Those who love their Jane drawn out, languid and lovely might be off-set by the abrupt ending and the quick advancement of Rochester and Jane’s relationship. But, this is a condensed version which certainly captures the spirit and essence of the tale in snippets: in scenery, character and feel.


I really enjoyed this interpretation and, like the best stories that you have internalized, that have coloured your psyche and informed your world view, your sense of ownership seems precariously threatened by the unraveling of it in a different medium. Fortunately, Jane Eyre hits the right notes, offers something fresh and inventive and exposes the great, mind-blowing romanticism that has kept it at the forefront of the Western Canon since 1847.

note: fellow Torontonians, Jane Eyre is playing EXCLUSIVELY at the Varsity ( where I saw it last night), so, you know how fast this theatre sells out.... buy tickets early :-)

Jane. .... all sorts of Jane

I am so excited to see the new Jane Eyre this weekend. I have read that book to shreds since my first reading at 14 years old!

Looking for some Jane Eyre love? Look no further:

-Michael Fassbender prefers Toby Stephens' Rochester to all others ( no surprise, I do too)
-Which is the creepiest Rochester and which version has no creep factor at all? Slate.com tells us
-Leah McLaren ( possibly Canada's worst columnist) adds her two cents. I only add her for balance
-Ghosts of Rochester's Past: from BBC America
-the new film prompts re-reading ( actually, for most of us, we don't need a film to want to re-read... but what the hay!)
-Jane Eyre: heroine extraordinaire
- I loved this review from "Elle"


Keep up with everything Jane Eyre with Bronte Blog: these gals are ALL over the new adaptation!


Is it just me, or does everyone feel sunshiney when 19th Century literature takes over the news?

"' Cause in Vienna... we were poetry..."

Everyone in the world knows that I am obsessed with Vienna. It is my dream city: a frothy, baroque sphere of ornate fairytale. Tall spires, lush, ornamented buildings, hundreds of gardens sprawling between wrought iron gates, music and cobblestones.

Pastries and ice cream at every corner, fountains reaching the sky, harsh accents and the lyrical cadence of a city separated by rings… a sort of perpetual merry-go-round waltz.

Yes, I am obsessed.

I lived in Vienna imaginatively and mentally and spiritually for years ( since I was 11). When I finally visited last summer and all of its shiny, musical splendour kept me exploring and peeking past every walled gate, palace and crevice, I realized that ( in ironic wonderfulness) it had exceeded my expectations.

It’s a city I am aching to return to.

Every time I hear Mozart’s Konzert fur Flote, Harfe und Orchester, I am back in the Goldener Soll at the Musikverein, watching as men and women dressed to the nines splay their music affront glistening stands.

Every time I hear the espresso machine at Starbucks, I am back drinking weiner mélange at the Mozart Café in the Albertinaplatz ( I swear I tried at least 20 different coffees in Wien!)

I want to share these experiences with everyone and relive them in wonderful books.
So, I give you, a list of books that will take you to Vienna:


Vienna Requiem J. Sydney Jones

Vienna Blood Frank Tallis

A Death in Vienna Daniel Silva

The Seven Per Cent Solution Nicholas Meyer (Sherlock and Watson visit Sigmund Freud)

Vienna Prelude Bodie Thoene ( the novel that sparked my passion for the city at age 11)

The Morning Gift Eva Ibbotson ( a Viennese-born writer)

The World According to Garp John Irving (set partially in Vienna)

The Radetsky March Joseph Roth

Read more about John Irving’s passion for the city here.

What’s your favourite city ? What city would you most like to visit? Have you found books that immediately transport you there?

The Pioneer Woman: Black Heels to Tractor Wheels

Black Heels to Tractor Wheels takes us through the meeting, courtship and marriage of popular “Pioneer Woman” blogger Ree Drummond. I must confess I had never heard of Ree Drummond or her blog previously; but when I saw this book mentioned on Harper Collins’ website, I thought it sounded fun.

Ree has this fabulous way of turning her life story into a spicy Harlequinesque mirror of passion and persistence. Her (then ) suitor and (now )husband whom she calls “Marlboro Man” is a perfect gentleman bred of his family’s Oklahoma cattle ranch. I immediately fell into Ree’s world. Having recently returned from a life of vegetarian cuisine and killer designer jeans in LA, Ree takes a sojourn at her childhood home while planning to move to Chicago to kick-start a career in law. While home, she goes to a bar with some girlfriends and sees the salt-and-pepper-haired Marlboro Man from afar. She boldly approaches him and feels an instant chemistry.

Then, she doesn’t hear from him. For months. Life goes on and Ree solidifies her plans to move to Illinois. But, just as everything clicks into place, Marlboro Man calls and they begin a passionate and incendiary relationship that pulls her from her life of sushi and heels to the red-meated BBQ world of the farm. Here, she learns the ins-and-outs of Marlboro Man’s cattle ranch ( and gives a portrait in fine-tuned, blatant humour), spends hours curled on his couch eating steak and watching action films and falls head over heels in love.

To tell the truth, every female reader who has ever had a penchant for a man clad in levi’s and cowboy boots with a rough-hewed grace will also fall madly in love. Think Josh Lucas in the Reese Witherspoon vehicle, Sweet Home Alabama. What makes the narrative so fascinating is Ree’s complete ownership of her fairytale. She strongly believes she has lived a romance out of a movie and she propels it into colour for you so you, too, will begin the realization of dreams in “real life.” Moreover, she is completely and unabashedly self-deprecating. As sure as she knows that she is colouring you one slant of her dreamy, passionate existence, so she reels you into a world of embarrassing flop sweats, insecurities, and mid-honeymoon vomiting. I enjoyed Ree’s candor and spice for life. As someone who tends to romanticize everything with a graceful sweep of rose-coloured glasses from outstretched hand to brink of nose, I completely understand her willingness to paint her love affair with cinematic scope.This book is delightfully refreshing and focuses on the tender and humorous moments of a great, true-to-life romance.

Any gal who has long given up on finding a cowboy outside of a Paul Newman flick will find it wonderfully exhilarating to read about a normal gal who just happened to lasso a happiness completely removed from the blinders of her poised-and-ready ambition. Moreover, Ree’s story continues on her blog: where you read beyond the courtship and honeymoon to the trials, triumphs and travails of her current role as mother and homeschooler of four children. Ree never sleeps in again.

Ree lives zillions of miles away from Starbucks ( I don’t care what kind of cowboy you are, there are some sacrifices I could never make), Ree gives up fancy heels and fashion design and vegetarianism. Ree is never a size 6 ( her wedding dress) again. Ree has never been happier. What an empowering look and defense at a marriage gone right.

Why pan the shelves of your bookstore for the newest fictional chicklit, when you can easily grab the real thing.

SCOTT LYNCH!

Since the exciting news of A Dance with Dragons was released and readers itching for the latest George R R Martin feel that their 6 years of book purgatory is over, I thought I would express my similar enthusiasm at the prospective publication date by the latest of a favourite author.

Dear Scott Lynch,

You have no idea how much your books fill my heart and head with glee. No idea.

I LOVE the Lies of Locke Lamora and I LOVE Red Seas Under Red Skies and I think you have a cuttingly winsome sense of humour and a fully-developed magical realm and characters so dimensional you need 3D glasses just to scope them in their tantalizing complexity.

Moreover, you perfectly render the blood and passion and intrigue of a land filled with the periphery of war. As sweet as your prose is, you can turn over a dark leaf and unleash a depth of terror and suspense rarely found in your genre.

I cannot stop talking about the Lies of Locke Lamora. So much so, I think some people buy it just to shut me up ( but then they read and love it ).


The problem is, Scott Lynch, that I JUST CANNOT WAIT for the Republic of Thieves. I can’t. I’ve tried. I’m like one of those mopey George RR Martin fans who, to no avail, refreshes their browser so that the unnamed release date appears Banquo-like in the background.


I cannot wait. I can’t. My fingertips are twitching.

You left us in a rather perplexing place. The fates of Jean Tannen and glorious Locke hang heavily in the air. I am so excited.


Scott Lynch, you are a magnificent wordsmith and you paint a canvas that I cannot wait to jump into again.

I want to return to your kaleidoscope-coloured world and read your gritty, visceral dialogue and have the ends of my eyelids stand on end in scintillating, book-drunk glee.


I have had it on pre-order for ages and everytime I get a note from amazon informing me that the date has changed; something within my reader’s heart shrivels and dies. I know there's not a lot you can do about this and Orion has confirmed November. I just wanted to let you know that as excited as readers are about the Martin, so this reader is excited about the return of her beloved Locke....


Cordially,
Rachel

TLC Blog Tour: the Oracle of Stamboul

The universe seems to be against my blog tour stop for the Oracle of Stamboul.

First, I just received my review copy (as arranged by the lovely folks at TLC) because it was somehow stuck at the post office awaiting me. Secondly, blogger was down yesterday when I tried throwing this up over lunch at work and then last night, the power was out in my neighbourhood.

It’s not faring well for this here blog…. However, the book is SO gorgeously scintillating, I hope that you will forgive tardiness and replace it with anticipation similar to what I am feeling at finally reviewing this book in detail.

Please note that when I DO have a chance to delve further into the novel, you can check back here for my thoughts.

If the haunting and mellow cover is not enough to draw rapt attention from you, then I direct you to the publisher’s description:

“Set in the heart of the exotic Ottoman Empire during the first years of its chaotic decline, Michael David Lukas’ elegantly crafted, utterly enchanting debut novel follows a gifted young girl who dares to charm a sultan—and change the course of history, for the empire and the world. An enthralling literary adventure, perfect for readers entranced by the mixture of historical fiction and magical realism in Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass, Orhan Pamuk’s My Name is Red, or Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, Lukas’ evocative tale of prophesy, intrigue, and courage unfolds with the subtlety of a Turkish mosaic and the powerful majesty of an epic for the ages."

Magical Realism. A favourite genre for those lemony evenings that melt winter into spring. I don’t know about you; but any novel that draws comparison from a myriad of modern classics ( such as Marquez, Pamuk and Pullman) deserves a peek.

Harper Collins allows you to delve a little further into Michael David Lukas’ biography, inspiration and even his favourite books here.

Browse and buy the book here.

Make sure you visit Michael David Lukas’ website where you can find links to several of Lukas’ previous writing.


Please continue to follow the book tour ( even if I am a let-down!)

March 1:Unabridged Chick

March 2: Simply Stacie

March 3: Janet Boyer Blog

Inevitable Promo Post for "Empire of Ruins"

Thanks to our friends at Harper Collins Canada, I got my hands on a copy of Empire of Ruins! Everyone knows I love promoting Arthur Slade on le blog because it is fun to do and he makes me laugh… AND (and probably MOST importantly) he is from Saskatchewan: province-extraordinaire.

Just an FYI that this is officially published on March 1, 2011( according to Amazon) and yes! … you should be pre-ordering it NOW (should: meaning FIVE MINUTES AGO ALREADY!)

Here! I’ll help you.

You can order it here

Or here

And then you can read about it here

And…LOOK! someone blogged about it keenly in December here

As far as I gather there is...
-Octavia
-Modo
-Mr. Socrates
-LARKS
-steampunky stuff
-steam and punk
-Victorian-style adventure
-lots of consonance and pitch-perfect descriptives ( it’s an Arthur Slade novel)
-MORE LARKS and in the RAIN FOREST!!!


Canadian Authors ROCK! I support them and so should you!

Indubitably, I’ll have more to say about this later….

The Healer's Apprentice by Melanie Dickerson

The Healer’s Apprentice is what I hope to be the beginning of an intriguing and unique spin on Christian Teen Romance by Zondervan.

Plenty of magic and classic fairytale elements pepper this tangy take on the Sleeping Beauty story.

Rose is a healer’s apprentice who leaves her lower class family and house full of brothers and sisters to work with the town healer. By day she and her friend Hildy dream about dukes and castles; by night dark shadows of the men who prove prospective suitors for Rose huddle in the background.

After tending to Lord Hamlin’s injured leg, Rose finds herself connected to the most prominent family in the village. The family loves Rose’s stories, the dashing Lord Rupert teaches Rose how to ride and the handsome and good-hearted Wilhelm eventually captures Rose’s heart.

But, theirs is a forbidden love. Wilhelm has been betrothed to an unseen and captive fiancée for years now and as soon as she is released from the sorcery that binds her, he will secure his happy ending.

Mistaken identities and dark spirits pervade the novel and make it a welcome change to the usual Christian teen fare. While Dickerson reimagines these evil forces as blatant spiritual warfare ( something that need not have been spelled out; rather more effectively implied), the story reads deliciously like an age-old fireside tale.

I found the romantic development between Wilhelm and Rose quite believable and it made me pine to see how their plot would untangle and happily-ever-after would reign supreme.

A secondary romantic plot between Rose’s friend Hildy and Gunther ( a charming, be-freckled lad) was another welcome addition.

There is a decidedly Christian element: mostly in the character’s thoughts and prayers, but with the exception of the spiritual warfare slant aforementioned, it is not over-powering: making this a suitable read for non-Christian readers.

I hope to see more of the like from Zondervan teen.

It was so refreshingly different from a lot of the nonsense Christian publishers pass off for YAs and Teens nowadays. Harsh, but true.

visit Melanie's website

The Secret Garden

The Edinburgh Festival’s production of The Secret Garden ( playing at the Royal Alexandra here in Toronto) is a faithful and imaginative interpretation of the Tony Award 1991 musical.

Much darker than anticipated in a story with a child protagonist and genuinely scooping up some of Burnett’s gloomy and hallowed themes, the Secret Garden plays very well on stage.

Opening in Colonial India, young and stubborn Mary Lennox is the only survivor of a rampaging cholera epidemic that claims the lives of both of her parents and her beloved Ayah, her Indian nurse. From there, a British soldier believes she has an uncle in Yorkshire and this is where Mary’s story begins.

The Secret Garden is well-known to most, Mary (as contrary as the nursery rhyme) moves to Misselthwaite Manor and encounters a cheerful maid Martha, her brother (whose preternatural connection with Animals and the natural world allows him to commune with robins and bunnies), her sickly cousin Colin ( stowed away in his room under his uncle’s belief that he is not long for the world and destined to become a hunchback like his father), her doctor uncle ( who has sinister motives of his own pertaining to the estate left to his brother, and her Uncle Archibald who is still grief-ridden over the premature death of his glorious wife Lily.

The Secret Garden refers to a walled oasis that Archibald had shut up after the death of his wife. When a robin shows Mary the key and the door long-hidden by ivy, Mary finds that all is “wick”: meaning even that thought dead still has a spark of life.

This theme becomes more and more prevalent as Colin becomes well, Mary becomes the spirited girl she was meant to be and leaves the shackles of dour contrariness behind her and Archibald finds his life outside of the mourning process.

The play strays in many ways from the text. Firstly, Mary’s Uncle Neville never factored into the original story and here he is fleshed out as a manical villain who, too, was once in love with Lily ( in the book, her full name is Lillias; probably shortened here for the audience). Neville’s sinister plans and his backstory with Lily are never fleshed out and audience unfamiliar with the material may be left puzzled.

The play also fleshes out Archibald’s story. Featuring a greek chorus of ghosts from the cholera epidemic and Archibald’s past, including Lily and her sister Rose ( Mary’s mother), several scenes play out moments of their budding relationship. This also acts as a convoluted device, if a well-meaning perspective on a love found and lost.

The production itself was rather moving: lights painted the ghost characters in a harrowing grey while the garden under its raptured sprout gleamed silver and light. Misselthwaite Manor was constructed of moving partitions, old portraits and four-postered beds, gloomy, stilted libraries and dark, lanterned halls, these were turned at will on a revolving stage ( think Les Miserables), and often pieces were moved by the ghost members of the cast keeping the image of a haunted house on a wuthering hill at the mind’s forefront.

As mentioned, the production was very dark; but there are enough signs of life to determine its happy ending. There is rebirth for all much like the coming of the awakened spring ( thanks to Mary’s persistence and Dickon’s magic touch).

The score was backed by a competent orchestra and though some of the cast was pitchy or just downright overblown ( I wasn’t overly impressed with the actor playing Archibald) , the two child leads playing Mary and Colin as well as Dickon and Marta were fabulous.

Lily also had a sweet, entrancing voice for her very lyrical soprano portions.

Often called one of the best scores in modern musical, the songs blend English folk, melodious pop and traditional theatre to give a thoughtful, classical feel to an enduring story.


I really enjoyed it.

In Defense of Food: Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants

The subtitle of Michael Pollan’s entertaining treatise on how obsession with nutrition has culminated in food-like products is : Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants. Pollan turns investigative journalism into a high-entertainment art form. He knowingly winks at the reader as he guides them through the atrocities of health-based obsession from the 19th Century onward.

I especially enjoyed learning of different fad diets and what was constituted as bad ( protein was AWFUL at the turn of the 20th Century and famous eaters like Roosevelt and Morgan reached the heights of insanity to cleanse it from their diet) to margarine ( that minx of a chameleon substance that can shift and shape its nutritional value whenever the health moderators call it out in anger) to nutrients: what are they, how did we find them, should we dissect them, how our ancestors did without them. Pollan makes an interesting case arguing that the more society obsesses over health food, the more obese we become.

The Western Diet: that awful North American misrepresentation of food as health and substance is painted in a garish light: especially when prompted by scientific bases and cover-ups. Pollan doesn’t preach: instead he asks us to read, be informed and contemplate. Do we really feel that the labels high-cholesterol; low cholesterol; saturated fats; low-fat; high protein are shaping us for a health and fervent future? Pollan asserts that stripping decades of confusion will lead us back to food in its purist form: away from the food-like substances that have catapulted on our society and saturated our store shelves. Pollan’s mantra takes us to the heart of the matter in an informed and excessively readable way. Years of being imparted with scientific evidence proving this is good, this is bad, this gives cancer, this cures it have muddled our relationship with a prime human experience.

Pollan lays it all on the table and asks us to call it out. Are fad diets and government concocted pyramids really the most efficient way to question the obesity problem in North America? What can we learn about the nutrients we have obsessed over and how can we better tackle weighty ( no pun intended ) issues like protein and carbohydrates? What actually IS good for you? I think Pollan’s mantra is to strip confusion and over-muddled terminology ( you should see the breakdown of nutrients in a plant such as thyme) and bring us back to basics.

I especially enjoyed when he took us into the science of food and into studies that discussed how every human body is not just a food processing machine and how every variant of food can materialize itself in different ways. Those interested in food and nutrition will enjoy this book. Those who just want a bloody entertaining read by an intelligent and snide observer of human fallacy will also have fun!

Courtney and Rachel Talk Books: Faro's Daughter

Courtney AND rachel take on Georgette Heyer ( and Kato!)

The Story

Faro’s Daughter tells the story of Deborah, a woman who works in a gamboling house, and Max Ravenscar who is a gentleman trying to save his young cousin from a most inconvenient marriage to aforementioned woman. Of course, as Deborah really has no intention of marrying Ravenscar’s young cousin, this book is filled with many misconceptions and angry words as Deborah and Ravenscar try to get the other to leave Ravenscar’s cousin alone.

And as per any Heyer novel, we can expect these many misconceptions to somehow turn into love and a happily-ever-after ending.

Rachel: I really didn’t like Faro’s Daughter as well as I liked the other Heyer novels. This is a bit disappointing, because up to and surrounding Christmas, I read a string of awesome, adorable Heyer after another. I really think this had something to do with the characters. I did not fall for Max Ravenscar in the same way as I did a Miles Cavanaugh or a Jasper Damerel. Knowing that Heyer as such delightful potential for sparkling, witty heroes and heroines, I felt a little cheated when I failed to really click with either the main or peripheral characters. I rather enjoyed Lucius, Deborah’s erstwhile confidante, but no potential was completely realized on this front.

Courtney: I would completely agree with you about this – not nearly as enjoyable as Heyer’s other novels that I’ve read, and it’s all due to the characters. There was so much potential – misunderstanding! an unlikely female heroine! romance between all the wrong people! But it didn’t go as far as it could have because the characters didn’t bring it there. Whereas you enjoyed Lucius, I have to say that I didn’t even like him – or any of the other secondary characters. I thought they all felt very one-dimensional. And this saddens me.

Rachel: In the best Heyer novels, the relationship between the heroine and hero develops in a sparklingly languid way. Like Elizabeth and Darcy, you follow them through their trail of mishaps to the rainbow at the end of the tunnel and the final “a ha!” moment. Here, Ravenscar and Deborah hated each other (surfacely) so intensely that any development was shoved to the wayside. Thus, in the final moments, they seem almost thrown together and you cannot retrace your thoughts to the beginning of their more amorous acquaintance. Yes, a sparring couple is one of the delights of Heyer—- but this moved beyond playful sparring and bordered on downright mean. They both went out of their way to comment on the others inadequacies in a harsh and cruel way.

Courtney: Downright mean doesn’t even begin to cover it! He insulted her at every possible chance, she went out of her way to provoke his anger, and then if that wasn’t bad enough she kidnapped him! And while love often grows from hate in books, we don’t see their feels really changing and then all of a sudden when she agrees to marry him, it just feels so out of character for both of them… almost like the characters got away from Heyer and this was her reining them in for the big finish.

One of the things that really frustrated me about this book was the double standard that was presented of what women and men are allowed to do. Men are allowed to frequent gaming halls, but for a woman to run a gaming hall out of her house was one of the biggest taboos that could be done. I know it’s my feminist side coming out there, but it made me quite angry when reading about it.

Rachel: I don’t think, particularly, this “problem” was one of Heyer’s writing and plot; rather a double-standard permeating the time period ( alongside a host of others not as starkly explored in this book.

Courtney: One of the highlights of her other books are the whole cast of characters and this one was lacking, especially in the side-kick point. I have a tendency to love sidekicks more than main characters in most media that I thoroughly enjoy. They can provide insights into the character, or provide comic relief, and are often the vehicle used to get us inside the main characters’ heads and understand what they are feeling and thinking.

Rachel: Yes. Friday’s Child has ruined me for Heyer novels without strong sidekicks. Sometimes what is most prominently revealed about the development of the hero and heroine’s relationship is said in these colourful moments with wondrous side-kick aplomb. In fact, the sidekick is SO essential to a great story and so important, one is automatically drawn to thinking about other sidekicks. Say, sidekicks one has seen is recent movies. Say, sidekicks that have nothing to do with regency romance; rather are renaissance men who can make coffee and fight martial arts while listening to Beethoven. Sidekicks who are the personification of a human swiss army knife…sidekicks like KATO!!!!

Courtney: Kato is adorable! And can kick Britt’s butt but is still so loyal to him that he only does it when Britt needs a SERIOUS butt-kicking. Other than that, he will drop everything to make sure Britt doesn’t get his butt-kicked by anyone else!

Rachel: Wait. Maybe we should let people know that we have switched to the Green Hornet: a movie Court and I saw a few weeks back. A movie that was so splendidly ridiculous I doubt it really had any screenwriting: just a lot of running around and laughing.

What I REALLY liked about the Britt-Kato relationship was the balance ( or imbalance) of power. It takes Britt a long time to reconcile himself to the fact that Kato really is his superior in many ways. When Kato tells Britt he is stubborn it is an understatement. Britt finally learns that in order to stay safe ( metaphorically and literally), he has to move into the front seat of the Black Beauty and let equilibrium ensue.

I also LOVE little details about Kato: the fact that he makes coffee, sketches Bruce Lee; draws a happy face on a card accompanying a gift to Britt; is saved from Britt’s pool by an inflatable lobster…

And what I liked MOST about this partnership is how different it is to other partnerships. So often ( and can I shamelessly use the BBC Sherlock as an example, please? Okay. I will) as in the BBC Sherlock, the “team” of hero and sidekick are mentally in synch: they just need to glare at each other and they are mentally attuned to what the other is planning.

Britt and Kato ( in their development as the Green Hornet and Kato ) have no synchronicity at all.

I love how we jumped from Georgette Heyer to this, by the way. What a subtle transition.

Courtney: I think you’ve covered everything that is important about the Britt-Kato bromance, and I don’t know that there’s anything else that needs to be said about it, really. Except that it was really awesome that there wasn’t REALLY any romance in the movie. I mean, they were both in love with the same chick, but she wasn’t interested in either of them. And so the focus was completely on the Britt-Kato dynamics without getting sidetracked and distracted. Not enough stories do this!

The Bottom Line

Hum. The most boring of Heyer’s books that I’ve read so far. So boring that we tangented quite easily.

the Mummy Case: An Amelia Peabody Mystery by Elizabeth Peters

I am so madly in love with this addictive, crack-like series right now. It is perfect. It is absolutely perfect. It works on three different levels: is surfacely adventuresome and fun(though splendidly clever and exceedingly well written), invokes a brilliant parody of the adventure sagas of the day and sets itself in the way of its own irony. On one hand Amelia rails against sentimentality and melodrama and, on the other, she leaps into it headfirst: in her illustrious narrative and the convoluted mystery-murder-plots that thread through the series. All of my hyperbolic skills (see previous accolades) surface when I think about how much I WANT TO GO TO EGYPT! WANT TO MARRY RADCLIFFE EMERSON! WANT TO MAKE ME UNDERLINE EVERY CLEVER LINE IN THE BOOK ( which, basically, makes me want to underline the whole book: so I gave up on this fruitless endeavor)

Following Crocodile in the Sandbank, and the ridiculously wonderful The Pharoah’s Curse, The Mummy Case finds Amelia Peabody Emerson, parasol-wielding, detective-extraordinaire, and ( according to her fine self) sure to have her name enshrined next to her esteemed husband for centuries, and her delightful robust and growly Egyptologist, Radcliffe Emerson back doing what they do best: another Season in Egypt. ‘Cept they didn’t get the pyramids they wanted, their servant John is doing a less-than-stellar job at guarding young (and frustratingly precocious)Ramses ( the Emerson’s insanely smart and ten-steps-ahead-of-you! young son) and there is little privacy for their favourite pastime… ( next to excavation *ahem* ) so Emerson’s shirts are surprisingly well-buttoned and an annoying Coptic religious group ( not to mention the near footsteps of a Master Criminal ) preys on their nerves. Throw in a German baroness’ missing mummy case( heck! Even a missing mummy) and Amelia is at the ready: parasol steady and fire-wit aplomb.

God, I LOVE HER! Romantically, this series is top-notch. It is so refreshing to observe fervor and passion in a couple who have been married near a decade. They are as in love and smitten with each other as the first time they met. In fact, their whirlwind courtship never ceases. A marriage of equals ( for Amelia would settle for nothing less): "Marriage, in my view”, she writes, “ should be a balanced stalemate between equal adversaries." I love her. Love him. Love Ramses. Love their shoddy pyramid ( they didn’t get Dahshoor; but they will next time!!) Loved the criminal and Amelia’s waterproof matches. The whole thing is a rollercoaster of ridiculous fun! READ THIS NOW! Just drop everything and read it now.

(I was half hour late for a party ‘cause I couldn’t stop reading)

In defence of the BOOK: in all of its glorious, dusty, old-fashioned splendour

EDIT( Feb 1): My friend Verity recently posted this response and I hope you will read it in conjunction with this post to get a more balanced sense of some of the e-reader debate out there

Call me old-fashioned; but I view the e-reader as a symbol of a society that has forgotten the pleasure of excavation. A world that struggles so harshly to ascertain a product at lightning speed it has waylaid the beauty of indolent discovery.

That’s right: hunting, finding, discovering, feeling, peeking, forging, tasting….

First off, reading for me is a tangible experience that exercises senses: smell, feel, weight, touch, friction-of-finger-and-page. I will never feel anything akin to cracking back a spine (or in my willowy carefulness, gingerly tugging back a page) or smelling the pages betwixt. For me, smell is my strongest trigger to memory. Thus, my favourite books and my favourite passages link to a scent that propels my brain into action.

A paragraph can take me back on vacation or a sentence to high school English class, or the streak of red pen under a favourite line to a perplexingly vulnerable moment. I am susceptible to a book’s marvelous passage to hallowed old depths and I am most attuned to this when I am smelling and feeling a book.

I like to book-watch: meaning I love to sneak a peek at what others are reading on the subway. Sometimes, as was the case on Friday afternoon, I looked up and saw a woman reading the Black Cat by Martha Grimes. Our eyes met and I smiled. A knowing smile. Finding a Grimes reader is labeling an immediate kindred spirit. An e-reader closes off your book from the world. It shuts out any possibility of communal readership and those magical kismet-moments and makes a private experience. Good-bye volatile moments or imaginings or snippets of hope that you’ll look up and find some dashing guy turning back the page of your favourite Sherlock Holmes edition.

Reading is an experience and books craft that experience in a way that an unfeeling digital device can never recreate. One might argue that the words are the book’s potency and transcribed any-which- way they hold their meaning. But, for me, the art of the book is part of the craft.

Book binding is an art form. The cover and design of a book is hallowed ground. Peering through a glass at a medieval bible or running your finger pads around a book owned and written in by a favourite author (I own a book that belonged to LM Montgomery) is a very concrete experience that bottling words into a crammed digital device can never realize.

Think of author signings: if we go the way of the e-reader, is it even necessary to spend delicious hours in line at IFOA inching toward your favourite writer-celebrity ( read: Ian Rankin)? Or, will Margaret Atwood concoct something that severs the tie between reader and author even more….?

As a booklover, one of the keenest pleasures I have is the exploration of bookish spaces: the library, bookstores, antiquarian markets, thrift-stores and rummage sales. The smell of a bookshop is a cherished thing indeed and the tangy taste of dust and worn pages is a thrill I find in little else. The birth of the e-reader has rendered these pleasures unnecessary.

About ten years ago, I made a pact with myself. I collect the Nero Wolfe series by Rex Stout. Those familiar with the canon recognize that there are several books and short stories stringing the great detective’s life together. I promised myself I would NEVER buy a Nero Wolfe book online. I wrote a list of all of the books in the series and kept it well-creased and folded in my wallet. For ten years, I would peek into used bookstores, rummage sales, bookshops….anywhere … slowly and surely collecting all of the titles I needed.

It was excavation. It took patience and time and conviction. It would have been easy to click a button and e-bay the lot of them to my doorstep; but part of the triumph was the excitement of discovery.

From Boston to London, England, to New York to Toronto to Ottawa to Midland, Ontario…. I slowly and surely collected pieces of my puzzle until finally, last year, in Victoria, BC I found the last Nero Wolfe book I needed. I caressed that book and held on to it and the proprietor of the little mystery bookstore that held my treasure and myself shared a wonderful moment. A distinctive, memorable moment. A moment that never would have occurred had it been rendered digitally.

We live in a society where everything comes easily. Everything is run on battery power and everything from takeout to movies is available immediately through the World Wide Web. I harken back to a simpler time. Technology has already stripped us of language ( abbrievations in text messages and, hell, the GRAMMAR in text messages has murdered our use of English) , and technology has stripped us of the timeless form of letter writing. One might assert the same aforementioned argument that the words are the substance and the medium does not matter. I disagree. A letter in the mail holds far more significance for me than a hastily-typed email.

One of life’s most languid and extraordinary pleasures is a book. A BOOK. .. Not words smattered on a white screen while a cursor ticks listlessly in the corner. Not font formatted in singular mode and circumscribed to conform all of the matter available on a digital surface. A BOOK. You can’t get that tingle anywhere else.

You can’t walk into a glorious bookstore in Hastings with a slanted roof and Tudor windows and smell out an age old edition of Beatrix Potter if that text is immediately drawn to you and your heartless device at the speed of sound.

Must we sacrifice everything in pursuit of convenience? Book collecting is a culture. Book-loving is my sustainability. My battery is not super-charged by a key that promises to give my device 24 hours ( or days, or months… )of uninterrupted usage. I’m super charged by books. You don’t turn them on. You don’t click on a screen. You don’t bookmark with an internalized mouse-like cursor. You flip open a page.

Simplicity is beauty and beauty, apparently, is becoming a lost art.