True Grit

True Grit by Charles Portis (1968) As much as I loved this book, it’s crazy that it’s not even my favorite book by Charles Portis (that would be Dog of the South) and also, I might add, I intend to read it still… as I listened to the audiobook—which I liked so much, I listened to it twice—without a lot of time in-between. I had the book kicking around for a while, and while I read three other Portis books, I had trouble finding enthusiasm for starting this one—only because there were two movies based on it and I’d seen each of them countless times—both good, and very different—as is the book. Everyone knows the story. (If you, for some reason, don’t, stop reading this now and consider yourself the luckiest person in the world—who gets to approach this book with an open mind! Probably read it first, then listen to the audio book, then watch each of the movies. Your evening’s planned out!) It’s interesting, because Rooster Cogburn is the star, the center of the story—but the real star, and real center of the story is 14-year-old Mattie Ross, and the book is from her point of view and in her voice. And I never ceased being surprised by her—how brash and funny she is. I read somewhere that the Coen Brothers were worried when casting her part—the entire movie hinged on that actor. Fortunately, it was well-cast, as was the earlier film version. As good as both of those actresses were, they’re eclipsed by Donna Tartt, reading the audiobook, as her voice and inflections I found perfect for the character—it’s possible she improves on it. There’s an essay of hers (likely in later editions of the book) which she reads at the end of the audiobook—well worth staying around for. It’s probably why I soon listened to the whole thing again. And also, still intend to read it.

4.3.25

The Gatehouse Mystery

The Gatehouse Mystery by Julie Campbell (1965) This is the third book in the Trixie Belden series. It all takes place back home, back in Sleepyside, where Trixie and Honey are neighbors, and T’s brothers are coming home from camp, and Jim is around—as well as T’s incredibly annoying pest of a little brother. They stumble on this mystery by finding a big old diamond—unlikely that it’s real, but it is. Trixie theorizes endlessly about how it got in the “Gatehouse”—but she’s ultimately correct. The funniest parts are Trixie in conflict with new hired help—an irresponsible and very suspicious new chauffeur for the Wheelers—with the very apt name, “Dick.” All great characters—the kids, Regan the groom, Miss Trask, and Tom Delanoy—who I personally relate to. I love Trixie, she’s fearless and pretty much a whirlwind, an agent of chaos, and constantly picked on. I also like Honey quite a bit—her emotional response to everything—they’re a great pair, and Jim’s not bad either. I wasn’t sure if I’d continue reading Trixie Belden, but now I’m hooked, more or less—we’ll see how the next book is. There are so many editions of these books, but they’re relatively easy to find and inexpensive—so you’d be wise to look at the different versions and try to get older ones—some have really fantastic covers, and some have amazing, unlikely, full-page illustrations lurking inside. I noticed some slight changes in the text—in different editions—too, but just some words and phrases. Some obsessives might want to explore that further.

3.26.25

The Shark-Infested Custard

The Shark-Infested Custard by Charles Willeford (1993) Looking for the next Willeford to read, I noticed that this one was considered “to depressing to publish” when it was written—so it didn’t come out until after he passed away. How could I resist checking out a book with that reputation and that great title? It’s about four friends, young men, Larry, Eddie, Don, and Hank—regular guys with jobs (one ex-cop working in security, one ex-military now airline pilot, two in sales, one divorced, or maybe more…). They’re all bachelors, living in a “singles-only” apartment complex called the Dade Towers, in Miami, where they sit by the pool, drink heavily, and date “stewardesses,” as they used to be called. So, it’s very close to my idea for an album of songs about people at an apartment complex—and I’ve got so say, it cured me of that misguided notion. I wouldn’t be able to write anything either this good or this grim. I almost put the book down immediately, just as soon as they all crossed over an irrevocable stupidity line. But like Miami Blues, Willeford will have a character do something unbelievably bizarre and foolish, only later to explain why they did it—and you buy it! The guys shouldn’t be criminals, really, but they get in plenty of trouble from bad choices, and then even worse choices. It should be too depressing, certainly—but it’s weirdly compelling—I couldn’t stop reading—I guess partly to see what trainwreck is next (you’re assured more is coming—I guess it’s just good writing). The stories are told from multiple points of view—really, totally different episodes—progressing in time with large gaps—but all the parts inform each other. And it’s also, if nothing else, very, very funny. I shall not give away the ending, but it’s very 1970s!

3.18.25

The Pale King

The Pale King by David Foster Wallace (2011) I wasn’t expecting to like, or to be able to get through, or, I guess, even want to deal with The Pale King at all—knowing it’s an “unfinished” novel—I thought it would depress me. But I found it strangely heartening, and inspiring, even. Well, of course David Foster Wallace could make a compelling and interesting story about something as seemingly frightening as working at the IRS. That makes sense, because he makes things interesting because of his ridiculous focus and thoroughness and amount of detail he uncovers and reprocesses for us. It could be anything, and that includes the most depressing jobs or brutal situations—because of his particular style and over-the-top, compulsive examination of details. Since the book is so fragmented—it’s more like a collection of stories, in some ways—I’ve forgotten a lot, already. But this is a book I might actually go back to from time to time—just to get the feeling of the distinctive DFW approach to writing. One funny thing is, that so close after reading that David Lipsky book (Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself) I realized how much character stuff in The Pale King is based directly on DFW—well, naturally—but there’s a direct line, there. And so, while this is very obviously an unfinished work, and you have to feel kind of sad knowing how much better it would have gotten had he continued working on it—it’s not a sad book. And it’s very funny, actually—all the way through. And weirdly, for me, uplifting—but that might be more about the writing than the novel’s situations and the messes the characters make for themselves.

3.13.25

The Mystery of the Green Ghost

The Mystery of the Green Ghost by Robert Arthur (1965) Number 4 in the “Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators” series. It’s pretty good, with an old mansion and undeniable ghost, a good, twisty, mystery, and the best part, some really tense episodes in some old mines and caves up in wine country—I like reading about kids crawling through tight spaces as much as I wouldn’t want to be there myself! It’s kind of an odd story—Jupiter is absent for much of the action—and must perform a lot of his deductions long distance. This series has a lot of fans, for good reason—it’s a pretty unique premise—and Jupe is an exceptional character. Maybe I always say this, but my favorite part of their world is The Jones Salvage Yard (where Jupiter lives with his Aunt and Uncle)—and their headquarters in the hidden, dilapidated camper, buried behind mounds of junk—with its various secret entrances. Similar to treehouse stories—I’m partial to hidden forts and secret headquarters—and the more these books leave the salvage yard and Rocky Beach for “exotic” locales, the less I’m enamored with them. Maybe what I need is a secret hideout, myself, or a treehouse—and I even had those things in childhood! I know one thing, if I ever had the good fortune to buy my own home, I sure as hell would put in a secret room! Maybe that’s where I’d keep all my kids’ books. Speaking of which, as a collectable object (not that I ever consider myself a collector), the older, hardcover editions of these books are the best. They’ve been reprinted many times in many formats. But even if you find a newer one, make sure to get a copy with the illustrations. The full-page, black-and-white drawings by Harry Kane are excellent, and add a lot to the whole enterprise.

3.4.25

Miami Blues

Miami Blues by Charles Willeford (1984) I couldn’t find my copy of The Burnt Orange Heresy (an increasing problem, lately, not being able to find books), and I missed the movie version—but I’ve also got a gaudy, paperback copy of this one, the first book of the Hoke Moseley series—also been meaning to get to (and I can’t remember if I saw the movie, way back). (Also, I found a nearly unwatchable version of Cockfighter, online, which I nearly watched.) I was thrown off, at first, by Willeford’s tone, but once I got used to it, I found this book irresistible. It's disturbing, but also very funny. Well, the very first line describes a character as “a blithe psychopath from California,” so you know you’re in for something. The three main characters are excellent portraits of people who might be considered losers, or reprehensible to some degree—a young, white, career criminal, a white middle-aged cop, and a way-to-young, white, woman, prostitute. The setting is a dated yet not nostalgic nightmare version of Miami. What did I find so compelling about this book? First, I recently wrote something (short segment) set in Miami, so I had the geography fresh in my mind—and I used to be fascinated with the town—though, more, the Keys, particularly “the final destination.” But as someone whose blood is too thick for even central Ohio, I picture living in Miami as hell—for me, anyway—but it’s fun to read about. Then, each of those three main characters are in their own way compelling. Despite their varying degrees of stupidity, racism, ignorance, cluelessness, and lack of morals, each one has their own odd kind of wisdom, survival skills, humor, code by which they live, and even weird charm. So that was interesting. I related to the aging cop, Hoke Moseley, perhaps too much. Also, he lives in a cheap residence hotel, called The Eldorado Hotel, and the descriptions of that place, the feeling of it, to me, was strangely inspiring—I could read whole books just about that place, alone.

2.19.25

The Happy Hollisters at Snowflake Camp

The Happy Hollisters at Snowflake Camp by Jerry West (1954) I previously hadn’t read a Happy Hollisters—found this nice copy, and it’s a winter and snow themed one—my favorite. It’s a little too young for me, generally, and the Hollisters are too sickly-sweet, five kids and perfect parents—but it’s a good book for dogs (HH’s have a great dog, and then there are Huskies in Canada) and snow (their hometown cancels school ahead of Thanksgiving, and they travel by train to Canada to visit their Grandparents). They even have a cat, named White Nose, with kittens. That made me think, if I ever have a white cat, I’m going to name it “White Noise!” If I ever have kids, I’d try to take the Hollister approach—but maybe with a little more compassion. There is a bully, back at school, a kid with some obvious problems that the Hollisters so thoroughly dispatch, you feel bad for him. He needs more than a beating! There was one episode that struck me as particularly odd: at school, recess, a baseball game—they procure equipment, go through a complex system picking captains, then choosing teams, then that thing with a bat to see who bats first, finally the game, and eventually one team is ahead seven to six, then a kid hits a home run, ties it, and the bully is up to bat and… the bell rings, game over. And then it’s mentioned that—so concludes the FIFTEEN MINUTE RECESS! Is the writer insane? I know these were ghost writers—having a little fun with absurdity, maybe? Or just sloppy narrative? It occurs to me that the writer might be making an observation about how time is perceived so differently for children than adults—and for real understanding and good relationships with children, you have to try to relate to their perception of time. Maybe I’m just overthinking things here.

2.15.25

Blood Meridian

Blood Meridian, or, The Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy (1985) I’ll leave any kind of outline or summary to the internet—it’s right there—since this is a completely insane novel, and any kind of basic rundown just fails. I’m not really interested in where it sits—it’s certainly loved and respected. I’m more interested in what it made me think and how it made me feel. I didn’t imagine I’d get through it, but I did. What does that say about me? I have sometimes wondered if there’s a barely maintained side to me that is horrible and evil—but I’m able to avoid that by working hard at some kind of fragile sanity. But there’s no guarantee that any of us are going to avoid succumbing to despair, depravity, violence, and behaving in a way that’s commonly considered “evil.” I really like Cormac McCarthy’s writing—his style and approach—and a lot of people consider this his best novel, but also hardest to take. I tried reading The Road, but I couldn’t tolerate that—too depressing, or frightening? I found this book in equal parts sickening and exhilarating—I wonder if the horrific behavior of the people in the novel—violent, stupid, hateful—matter-of-factly illustrated—makes the beautiful parts more vivid? But doesn’t that amount to a cheap trick? I know I can’t tolerate many movies and TV series’ that are about the most horrible human behavior imaginable, so why could I get through this? Part of me is suspicious of it—but then much of the book is undeniable. I mean, the writing is both clear and beautiful—as well as convoluted, confusing, and mysterious—all at once. I realize that some of the appeal of this book is as a counterpoint to the false and insipid side of the mythology of the American West—all those movies and books that in their total phoniness are boring, at best, but certainly destructive, too. The mythology of this book strikes me as more truthful, but in its own way destructive. That’s just one argument. It would have been interesting to read this for a college class!

2.13.25

All’s Well

All’s Well by Mona Awad (2021) I had the possibly ridiculous notion that I’d write a “campus novel” (seeing how I’ve never been a professor), so some research was in order—came upon this one, and since I liked Bunny, by Mona Awad, I got right into it. An enticing setup about a collegiate theater director, Miranda, who is in charge of the annual Shakespeare production—currently, All’s Well That Ends Well—but she’s faced with mutiny—most of the students want “The Scottish Play.” It’s a version of student/teacher conflict taken to an extreme. Also, the depiction of the ailing Miranda—due to a theater accident, and ongoing physical issues—is very good—the critique of the medical community, particularly in regard to women. It occurred to me that I might need to know Shakespeare more thoroughly, particularly this play, to get this book, and that may be the case—in any event, as the story went along, I felt myself increasingly mired in things I wasn’t understanding. Still, a lot of fun. The author definitely didn’t hold back with the escalating insanity, complications, sense of disorientation, the supernatural, and disturbing conclusions. I didn’t like the book as much a Bunny, but it was good research for me—enough to scare me away from both the contemporary academic and theater community—except, of course, in a fictional realm.

2.6.25

The Secret of the Sand Castle

The Secret of the Sand Castle by Margaret Sutton (1967) Somewhere I found a copy of this, awhile back—it’s number 38 in the Judy Bolton series, the last one written by Margaret Sutton to be published. Seeing how I don’t think I’ll get through all the books (in this lifetime), I figured I’d go ahead and read this one—I was curious. I always mention that it’s best to read Judy Bolton books in order, as they progress, through the years—and refer back to previous ones—so it wasn’t surprising that I’d be lost a bit in this book. There are a lot of characters, and there’s a lot going on, and I felt like I was missing some background. Irene is still around, but now has a daughter named Judy… who has a little black kitten named Jet Blackberry—named after Judy’s cat, Blackberry (who is also still around, but must be old, for a cat). The exiting thing for me in this adventure is that Judy and her friends visit the Fire Island seashore, offseason—not far from where I visited once, also offseason—and even though that was half a century after this book, the feeling of it—the isolated, shored up houses, the sand, and the boardwalks—felt exactly the same! It took me an incredible amount of time, by the way, to “get” the name Jet Blackberry. I’m slow. The mystery is intense and convoluted, a lot of odd characters involved, and some real danger. It’s a good mystery—pretty consistent with the earlier ones. When I read future Judy Bolton books, however, I’m going back to Number 9, or so, and continue to read them in order!

1.30.25

Born to Run

Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen (2016) I became aware of this book when reading Deliver Me from Nowhere (Warren Zanes, 2023), though I was aware of his Broadway show, so I should have known about it. I listened to the audio book, which I rightly assumed would be an excellent reading by Springsteen—it’s always great just hearing him talk—he’d probably make a trip to the grocery store funny and dramatic. I feel kind of bad, since I was a big fan of his music in the Seventies and early-Eighties, but then abandoned him. But then, I abandon everyone, for no real good reason—just constantly moving on. So it was nice to catch up on what’s happened since that time, which is plenty. This is a long and detailed book, but fascinating from beginning to end—it’s poetic, spiritual, and moving. Also, revealing. A lot of stuff I had no idea about, like his dealing with depression. A lot of struggles—but of course. The various relationships with band members—particularly interesting to me. The stories of his cross the country trips were my favorite episodes. Also, the few times when my own experience coincided—like the New Years show where he was injured with a big firecracker—that was always one of my Springsteen stories—so I was excited that he remembered it, and chose to include it, because of course, as many stories as are here, it’s a massive condensation of a more than eventful life. His lament about a copper beech tree being gone made me feel a weird connection (since I’m often thinking about the loss of a couple copper beech trees)—a simple thing like that, but then, what’s more profound than a tree?

1.22.25

Major Matt Mason – Moon Mission

Major Matt Mason – Moon Mission by George S. Elrick (1968) “A Big Little Book”—were these small but thick (3½ x 5 inch, 250 pages) illustrated kids’ books—with color illustrations on every other page—and good ones! They were often based on a TV show or movie, but this one was a Mattel action figure (doll)—a six-inch, rubber, Moon-based astronaut. Maybe there was a cartoon? I don’t remember. But anyway, I had this book as a kid, and it freaked me the fuck out! I left if behind, but bought this copy, recently, to read—to see if my weird memories of it had merit. And… actually, it’s weirder than I remember! It’s got an overall oppressive, disturbing tone. Well, that’s The Moon for you—a bleak place—but when there’s giant, tunneling worms, it gets worse. There’s an ongoing joke about how unappetizing the algae cakes are—a big part of the Moon settlers’ diet—but the humor barely lightens the mood. The grim tale centers on this guy living in isolation who loses his mind. We later find out… wait, I’m not going to give away the oddest wrinkle in the story. Anyway, his sister, the one woman astronaut (at least that we see) is who the reader most identifies with, as she’s always freaking out. Also, we see a lot of her in her underwear—it’s a little intimate. Later, she faints, and Matt Mason (who’s kind of a stone-stoic dud) has to carry her for pages and pages—quite a feat, until we remember it’s The Moon—so she probably weighs as much as a sack of algae cakes. Oh, and I didn’t even mention the giant rabbits!

1.9.25

The New Adventures of the Mad Scientists’ Club

The New Adventures of the Mad Scientists’ Club by Bertrand R. Brinley (1968) I vaguely remember having to hustle to get this book, back in the 1970s—I think my mom helped me. I was a big fan of the first MSC adventures, so this sequel was very exciting. The cover (by excellent illustrator Leonard Shortall) shows them working on a mini-submarine—what could be more exciting?! And dangerous! The (too infrequent) inside illustrations are (like the first book) by Charles Geer, and really add to the overall MSC world. Five stories, and they’re pretty long—almost too drawn-out, sometimes, but they at least don’t skimp on realization. The kids do some even more dangerous stuff, including foiling a bank robbery and terrorizing the entire region with a fake UFO. Like the first book, they are in conflict with the local adults and authorities—and also, their rival gang—sometimes a formidable opponent. One of my favorite characters is their adult friend Zeke Boniface, who runs a junkyard with style—the kind of guy parents might not want kids hanging out with—though he’s a good guy and more than capable. I didn’t realize (or forgot) that there are actually two more MSC books, which came out later (1974) and way later (2005) and they don’t look impossible to find—so maybe I’ll get ahold of those books someday.

12.10.24

Beautiful World, Where Are You

Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney (2021) Occasionally, I try to read something that’s contemporary, and popular, and by a young author. I didn’t know anything about Sally Rooney, but I heard that she’s very popular with readers, and she’s Irish, and also, half my age. I chose this book because it’s about a writer—and I often like books about writers. The writer character, here, Alice, is somewhat troubled, and the chapters go back and forth between her and her good friend, Eileen, who works for a magazine, and there is a lot in the form of their email correspondence. I’m not generally a fan of “epistolary” elements in novels, but I liked it a lot in this book—for me it was the most enjoyable part, because both of these characters are highly intelligent—and also searching, troubled, learning—and they expressed themselves very intimately and complexly via their emails—these are good letters! There are two men main characters as well—one, an old friend of them both—and the other, a new friend of Alice’s, met via online dating. He is a real oddball—at first annoying—but he becomes more complex and sympathetic as the book progresses. Something struck me as funny. I was thinking, if an author is known for naturalism and subtlety, you probably read a book entirely differently than if they’re known for a buildup to explosive, shocking violence. I didn’t know in this case—so this character had me worried! And then, if they’re known for sexually explicit content, you’re expecting something else, perhaps. For a while, I was wondering if this was going to turn into a contemporary Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969) (a movie I was a little young for, at the time, but caught up with the MAD Magazine version). As it went along, I felt like I slowly got to know the characters more, like people you know in life, and I really did start to care about them all. Some of their concerns (love, relationships), I’m a little through with (perhaps sadly?) by now, but there are other parts of them I related to intensely—I got to know them—the heart of the book for me.

12.5.24

Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk

Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk by Kathleen Hanna (2024) I’d imagine most people coming to this book to be fans of Kathleen Hanna, her bands, and/or her zines, writing, riot grrrl stuff, etc. Somehow, I missed Bikini Kill and Le Tigre back when I was listening to a lot of new music—well, I missed a lot of stuff, and continue to. So, not being a fan, it took me awhile to make the connection to Kathleen Hanna, though I’d heard about her, here and there, with all she’s involved in, and with this book coming out. She was on a podcast (WTF), and I really liked the conversation, so I thought I’d check this out. I seem to read a lot of musician memoirs and biographies, for whatever reason—I guess I like reading about the lives of musicians! Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, after the podcast, but I was impressed with how engaging this book was—I feel like it’s cliché-y to say it, but it reads like a thriller (and I never read thrillers) but it’s exactly that—it’s riveting. Maybe more so in that it’s autobiography—I mean, even if it was fiction, there’s a truth to it that feels undeniable. A lot of her successes and traumas are familiar, but the specifics here! I mean, sadly, everyone knows stories of sexual abuse, sexual assault, rape—but hearing these accounts in this book horrified me, made me angry and sad. As a man, this is not firsthand experience. As well as that, just her accounts of various abuse, being stalked, attacked, and just verbally harassed—it’s all very sobering, at best, and often sickening. And then, with every layer of success, the shit she’d get from both men and women, even former friends and collaborators. Fortunately, aside from that, there is tons of inspiring and joyful stuff, and even some hilarious and goofy adventures. The book is never close to being boring, and you’ll learn a lot, as well. Some great insights into mental health (I jokingly thought she could have titled it: Learning to Be a Friend to Myself.) Also, illness and health stuff—which I won’t give away—that reads like a particularly harrowing mystery. And for fans of any kind of music, and musicians, that’s, of course, at the heart of the book.

11.26.24

Medallion Status

Medallion Status by John Hodgman (2019) I might have not even picked this one up had I really thought about the title or known that it refers specifically to frequent flyer programs on some airline—as there’s almost nothing that interests me less—but having really liked Hodgman’s Vacationland book, I thought I’d check it out. It kinda presents itself as a sequel—with a similar title format. The full title is: Medallion Status: True Stories from Secret Rooms—that’s got to sell books—especially the “secret rooms” part—to me, I’ll buy almost any book with that in the title. Interestingly, during one of the chapters, he talks about how easy Vacationland was to write vs. how hard this one was to write—for various reasons, of course—but that’s the kind of thing I like. Even though the first couple of chapters didn’t interest me that much, just his whole writing style and how in depth he goes—and takes each episode to beyond its logical conclusion to somewhere entirely else—I like that a lot! He’s funny, of course, but can be serious at the same time, and even sad, and tragic at times—but in the end, always uplifting, and healthy (in that laughing is healthy). And besides the airlines obsession, he also delves into (in depth!) a lot of stuff. There is a lot here, and really, I enjoyed it all, just some chapters more than others based, of course, on my own experiences. I liked his stuff about the town in Maine where he lives, and I don’t even live in Maine, nor in a small town, but I find all that fascinating. Another one I especially liked was his observations about auditioning for acting parts. And then, one of my favorite bits was about his being freaked out when thinking about the abandoned underwater animatronic elements of the Disney World 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride. I think it was at Disney World, in Florida—well, that’s where I visited as a 12-year-old—and at that time, the 20,000 Leagues ride was broken down, so I never got to go on that one, and I always regretted it—that submarine was awesome, and I loved the movie. Maybe they were fixing the underwater robot fish, I don’t know, and maybe they would have similarly freaked me out—maybe I just dodged a trauma bullet there.

11.14.24

The Message in the Hollow Oak

The Message in the Hollow Oak by Carolyn Keene (1935) After that last Nancy Drew book bummed me out, I decided not to read them in order, and I only picked this one up because I started another kids’ book about hiding something in an old oak tree. Plus, it seemed like it might be a good autumn book to read. In a contest, Nancy wins some real-estate in Canada, and once she finds out it might actually be valuable, she gets “gold fever” and is determined to visit there with her chums. A local creep starts trying to get the deed from her, and on the way to Canada there’s a huge trainwreck! Nancy’s new friend, a writer, is nearly killed—and helping her, along with another new friend—not to mention surveying her land—she’s got a lot on her plate in this one! The hollow oak business is stretched within an inch of its life. There must have been something good here, because I kept reading—it helped not being too riddled with offensive stereotypes, save maybe for the notion that Canada must be populated by like 100 people—a good percentage of them corrupt. I can live with some pretty outrageous coincidences in these kids’ books, but this one really pushes it. On the positive side, there’s a bad guy named “Buck Sawtice,” of the Yellow Dawn Company. Bess and George are along, and one of them has a pretty good line, but I can’t remember it now. Carson Drew also gets directly involved, and I’m sorry to say he’s kind of a bummer.

11.10.24

Mystery in the Pirate Oak

Mystery in the Pirate Oak by Helen Fuller Orton (1949) An older Scholastic Book Services for younger kids than the kids’ books that I’m used to reading—two little kids on the cover (dead giveaway)—however, some fairly mature themes. The reason I picked it up, I’m sure, is because there’s also a tree fort—in a gnarly, old oak tree. It’s more of a platform than a treehouse, but better than a social media platform. I love treehouses. The story turns out to have a lot of complexity for a short book—including stamp collecting, an old legend, a new friend who is an old person, and a new friend who’s a spoiled rich kid. The brother and sister main characters have an alive mother, for a change—though their dad is dead. Their new rich kid friend, however, does have a dead mother (I’ve been keeping a tally). For some crazy reason, I had the inspiration to read a Nancy Drew book—The Message in the Hollow Oak—at the exact same time—I suppose to see if there was any connection, or if the older book (Nancy Drew) influenced this one. No doubt it did, to some degree—but then, I bet there are countless kids’ books out there about people hiding things in old oak trees—even though… has that ever really happened? Oh, the other good thing about this book—there was a really major thunderstorm. That and the treehouse.

11.5.24

Travels with Charley

Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck (1962) I guess I kind of dismissed this book because it was so popular, and later-career, and about a poodle—so I’m thinking Lite Beer and Chuck Berry’s “My Ding-a-Ling” and the last season of M*A*S*H. But since I was working on a story about a cross-the-country drive, I thought I’d check it out and, also, interesting to me, he wrote it right around when I was born—and he was about the age I am now. And halfway in between, I did my driving around the country—so how is it going to hold up? I can’t speak for 2024, but my younger adventure relates. Depressingly, one thing that’s way too close to our present day is his observations of and indictments of racism. But it isn’t all grim. I was immediately charmed by his overall attitude and tone, relating to that really quite a lot—and of course he’s a good writer, and it’s funny. And very insightful, just for the feeling you get on a long trip—especially if you make a point of talking to people. For a while I thought it was going to be one episode after another of loosening people up by “sweetening” their coffee with a little applejack or bourbon. Hopefully he didn’t start anyone on a path to destruction. Overall, I got some good insight for my book. Also, I see there have been criticisms about the book due to how much of the story he exaggerated and manipulated or just plain made up. But for me, I don’t care—what’s on the page is what’s important to me—not so called “reality.” After all, all “fiction” is based on reality and all “memoir” is so much enhanced and made up—I think the categories are just a little silly.

10.29.24

Henry Reed’s Journey

Henry Reed’s Journey by Keith Robertson (1963) Illustrated by Robert McCloskey. The second Henry Reed book, which I liked (as a kid) almost as much as Henry Reed Inc. It’s the next summer, and this time Henry flies to the West Coast to meet Midge and the Glass family and drive across the country with them—all related, to us, as in the first book, in the form of Henry’s detailed journal. It’s got similar character dynamics as the first book, with Midge’s parents replacing Henry’s aunt and uncle. Midge is the smart, funny one, while Henry is well-educated but oddly clueless in some ways—weirdly lacking a sense of humor—never really getting Midge’s dad’s ironic sense of humor. There are some running gags, like Henry’s obsession with, and failure to procure, fireworks. And everyone but Mr. Glass (who protests and complains) continuously acquiring more and more souvenirs along the way—including a bird! Henry and Midge really do have some pretty good adventures—a highlight is meeting an oddly eccentric friend, close to their age, who wears full cowboy gear without embarrassment. My favorite episode, when I first read it, and still, is a visit to the Brown Palace Hotel in Denver—so that I’ve always been fascinated with that place. Maybe I’ll visit it some day! The story is really weighted on the western part of the trip—it’s almost like Keith Robertson ran out of steam—or reached his maximum page count. I decided to re-read this book now because I’m working on a book about driving across the county—so I’m determined not to do the same thing—though I’m also writing a lot about the West—so I’ll be determined to keep it up—even if it gets really long! My copy of this book is an ex-library copy, beat to hell, stained, read by hundreds, thousands—but it’ll last forever. Look for an older, hardback edition—and make sure it has the illustrations by Robert McCloskey, which are excellent—quite amazing—and I maintain, integral to story, and in defining the characters.

10.22.24