The Silver Spoon Mystery

The Silver Spoon Mystery by Dorothy Sterling (1958) I found an old children’s mystery involving secret codes (I’m always looking for those!) and then realized I had this Scholastic Book Services paperback, from two years earlier, by the same author—so I thought I’d read this first—and it turned out to be a satisfying and bizarre mystery about the theft of some antique silver spoons from their library’s historical society display. It ends up being more about ethical and responsible behavior in a difficult situation, but I won’t give away more than that—there’s still a mystery at hand! Solving the mystery is up an entire crew of kids from several tightknit families, neighbors in a particular section their small, suburban town. It’s such a big group it makes Trixie Belden’s gang seem intimate. I’m not going to go over the names and their well-drawn relationships—the story sides with the older girls, for the most part—and one of the boys who’s a mystery story enthusiast. There are some pretty good adventures—the best one being one of the kids’ surveillance trip to the big city. The most bizarre part, however, is about the kids making local newspapers—a good hobby! Except, they have two competing papers, and in an attempt to pull off a “scoop,” some of the girls create a news story about the theft of the spoons (I mean, this is before the crime is committed!) —just making it up! —not fully understanding that they’re doing anything wrong. I’m sure Orson Welles would have been onboard! When the actual crime is committed, mirroring exactly their fictional version, all hell breaks loose, as you can imagine. I wondered for a moment if we were getting into a children’s metafictional realm! Well, there are reasons for it all, which we will see, but in the meantime—a pretty good, head-scratching yarn.

9.9.25

Diamonds Are Forever

Diamonds Are Forever by Ian Fleming (1956) I sometimes engage in the worthless pastime of planning the future of the 007 franchise, but then it occurred to me that I had never read any of the Ian Fleming novels—still haven’t, but I listened to an audio book of this one—very enjoyable! Good narrator (Robert Whitfield), and I liked how it really moved along, but still spent a lot of time on seemingly unimportant (but fascinating) details—also, the characters. The move version is way different (I’m guessing most of them are), but the movie is one of my favorites of the Bonds, despite its considerable drawbacks. Also, I’m writing something (novel) and using the character name, Peter Franks—mostly to amuse myself—because I love how silly that chapter of the movie is. I was happy that the book’s very different version of that early episode is also charming, as is the character Tiffany Case—and I couldn’t help but think of Jill St. John, my first movie star crush. Right from the start, however, the book’s fascinating depiction of the James Bond character gave me a very new idea of him—and I didn’t think about Sean Connery or any of the other film Bonds. Anyway, I liked it, and I might check out more—kind of a “guilty pleasure”—but since I don’t believe in that concept, I don’t know why I said that. A lot of fun, I guess, and funny, as well. Oh, especially the character of Felix Leiter—the versions of him in the movies are many, and very different, but always pretty great—and no exception here.

9.4.25

Trixie Belden and the Mysterious Visitor

Trixie Belden and the Mysterious Visitor by Julie Campbell (1954) The fourth book of the Trixie Belden series, the fourth one I’ve read, and my favorite so far. It’s a real slow-burn mystery, like the others—Trixie overstepping sensible bounds (lucky for us), getting a lot of crap from her brothers and Jim, her girlfriends, the adults, the annoying “comic relief” brother, Bobby, and especially the “Mysterious Visitor”—who we have no doubt is a phony, a criminal, and title character, from the first time we hear about him. What is fun is how it all comes together. New friend “Di” Lynch is introduced and is inducted into the “Bob-Whites” club. She’s as wealthy as Honey, and has even more anxiety—for a while, you wonder if each time we see her it’ll end with a freakout. I love Trixie, of course, but Honey continues to be my favorite character—I love her personality—but my favorite in this episode is Mart Belden—his elevated, exaggerated speech goes to the next level—very funny. These are surprisingly long books, and I like how this one doesn’t rush to a conclusion. The edition I have—one of those Whitman’s with a glossy, full-color illustrated cover (which extends over the spine and on back) is one of the best I’ve seen. It’s a depiction of Di’s large, family house—the “Terrace” with rustic and MCM design—they totally go for it. Trixie, in a bathrobe, is in confrontation with the title character. Blue shaded line-drawing illustrations inside are by Mary Stevens, one of the best.

8..31.25

Modern Massacres

Modern Massacres by Timothy Willis Sanders (2022) I really don’t read a lot of books of short stories (except Jesus’ Son, over and over, ha)—or short stories, anywhere, really, but I like when a book feels like a whole thing, like this one—not that the stories are connected in any obvious way, thematically or stylistically—I guess in the “voice,” of course, though even that’s not that obvious. But it feels like a perfect little book—exactly 100 pages, and a great cover—it’s from Publishing Genius Press. I’d never heard of Timothy Willis Sanders—but I heard him on a podcast (otherppl, where I hear of a lot of writers for the first time) and I liked his interview. It’s funny, the book kind of makes me think of a vinyl record album, for some reason, six songs (stories) per side, as if there’s a center point. I’m not going to summarize them—but some are about childhood (which I’ve been trying to write about)—and some, the time between childhood and being an adult—I wouldn’t necessarily say “coming of age,” because I’m not comfortable with that term, exactly—but I suppose some of these stories could be considered that. Learning hard things about the world. My favorite story is one called “Officer Walter” which is about the narrator’s relationship to that particular cop, who kind of mentors at his school, and then has a questionable relationship with his mom—and then a series of run-ins with the police, involving friends, drinking, drugs, the usual. Each part of the story is a new twist—it kept surprising me—often disturbing, but also mundane—even reassuring to an extent—but sad, too—really back and forth. This is the first one that I’m going to come back to. Stories need to be read over again—like poems—well everything does—but especially stories!

8.26.25

Dirty Money

Dirty Money by Richard Stark (2008) This might be the last “Parker” novel—unless there’s some weirdness like ghost-writer versions—or real ghosts. I’ve picked out a couple to read, kind of at random—not wanting to get hooked in reading the whole series (two dozen or so), but it’d be easy to get hooked! I listened to the audio book, actually—good reader, and that makes it even more addictive. It’s funny, the story starts after a crime (not sure if the heist in question is in an earlier book). Parker and his cohorts have robbed an armored truck—so the story here is trying to deal with a ton of hidden cash with the serial numbers on file—making it “dirty”—I love this setup. Parker is forced to enlist the help of a lot of colorful characters—my favorite is a woman named Sandra—she’s vivid and very strong. All the intrigue comes from trying to get around the authorities, and the potential double-crosses of those involved in the robbery and those involved in exchanging the dirty money for untraceable cash. Also, Parker has to go to great lengths to get a new, fake identity—and that part is fascinating. A lot of the story is of the nuts-and-bolts descriptions of how they carry all of this out. Not that you could learn, from it, to be a criminal, really—it all makes a “regular” job sound easy. Very entertaining, though—it felt like watching a movie with no slow spots and just enough humor. Even if the characters are mostly reprehensible, they’re fun to be around in a fictional realm—even weirdly inspiring—or maybe it’s the writing that’s inspiring. I’d love to be able to write that cleanly.

8.19.25

James

James by Percival Everett (2024) There must be other of retellings of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884), though I haven’t read any, but this one, told from the point of view of the slave, Jim, is by Percival Everett, who takes it further and in crazier directions that I can imagine anyone else doing—with humor, horror, and surreal adventure—it kept surprising me. If you haven’t read Twain’s “Huck Finn” in a while, you might not remember how totally nuts it is—and this book is a worthy retelling on that front. I felt there was a sense of inevitability in exploring the consciousness of Jim (James). He is secretly (in order to protect himself) literate—not just full of wisdom and practical knowledge. His journey is to survive, be reunited with his wife and daughter, and document his existence. The depiction of slavey in the United States, historical or in fiction, is of course horrifying and depressing, and more so when it includes graphic illustrations of torture, rape, and murder—but it’s important to remember this, as it’s a part of who we are. For most reading audiences, in order to stomach the horror, we need some depictions humanity and love to get us through—and stories of beating the odds, bravery, ingenuity, determination, inspiration, and retribution. It’s all in this book—there’s a lot here. My favorite parts are the examinations of the power of language, verbal acuity, reading and writing. Which is also where much of the humor comes in—the confusions inherent, understandings and misunderstandings—incredibly complex convolutions of identity. As they navigate a world with alarming exhibitions of greed, hypocrisy, cruelty, and insanity—along the vibrant Mississippi River—we also get tales of the harsh side of nature and man’s heroic and tragic attempts to use it and control it. There’s enough craziness here for several volumes. It’s satisfying how Everett can combine so many things—satire, experimentation of form, outrage, page-turning adventure, historical asides, regional lore, fraught travelogue, and a Hollywood ending—and why not. We end up loving these characters.

8.13.25

New Hope for the Dead

New Hope for the Dead by Charles Willeford (1985) The second Hoke Moseley novel—can’t believe I’ve taken so long getting around to these. I liked it better than the first one (Miami Blues), though not by much—it’s very different in structure—which is exciting—less violent, and warmer. I mean, in a way it’s a heartwarming book—but on the other hand, it’s brutal and depressing (it’s about homicide detectives, after all). Not depressing, but some grim subject matter, of course. Also, it’s hilarious. Maybe the most impressive thing of all is how the humor has an absolutely perfect tone—not easy to do. In a way, Hoke Moseley is the Miami version of Columbo—he relies on intuition and experience, and sometimes not exactly aboveboard methods—he’s sneaky and manipulative. I don’t approve of the guy, for the most part, and I don’t relate to him, really—but I love him. I’d follow him around on his job endlessly, if that was an option. Besides a central mystery in this book, a non-case that Hoke can’t let go, the main police-related story is that Hoke, and his old partner, and his new partner, are assigned to cleaning up a large file of cold cases—unsolved homicides. Thus the title—and it’s an excellent title. But also, Hoke and his new partner, Ellita Sanchez, are both embroiled in personal dramas that pretty much eclipse the crime sagas. Really, there is some shocking stuff in this book—but it would be an absolute disservice to anyone reading this if they haven’t read the book—just trust me.

8.5.25

Three Stuffed Owls

Three Stuffed Owls by Keith Robertson (1954) I’m a big fan of Keith Robertson, and I read The Money Machine (1969) when I was a kid, and a few times since, but I had no idea, until recently, that it was the fourth book in a series known as “The Carson Street Detective Agency Series”—about two high school age guys in small town New Jersey who solve a few mysteries. I had this book for a while (unread) and didn’t realize that it’s the second book in the series—and also has gotten pricey, due to rarity, I guess. I have an old, discarded library copy. I wanted to read them in order, but it seems the first and third books are impossible to find. Some other Keith Robertsons are pricey, now, as well—though not the Henry Reed books—I think they printed a ton of those. Anyway, this is a fine mystery—not the best I’ve ever read or anything—but very good. You see it coming down Fifth Avenue, a bit, but that’s part of the fun of it. The two kids aren’t geniuses—and their hubris almost undoes them—but they’re also smart and practical. I don’t want to give it all away, of course, but the mystery involves a taxidermist that they befriend, which reminded me of how we had taxidermy classes in our high school, and I do regret, now, not taking them. There’s also a really good storm, a cranky, humorless neighbor, a drugstore with a soda fountain, and a pet pig, obtained by chance, named Mildred, and she’s quite charming.

7.29.25

The Rare Coin Score

The Rare Coin Score by Richard Stark (1967) This is “A Parker Novel” by Donald E. Westlake, writing under the name Richard Stark. Somewhere in the middle of the series—Number 9, I guess. I think I read a Parker book way back, but now I’ve forgotten, so I’m kind of new to the series. I’ve seen several movies based on them—all of them too brutal, but still—I like the idea of a really stripped-down story. I was just thinking about my old coins—I have a few, not well-preserved or anything, and probably worth nothing. But I never get them out, and as far as them being old, I was thinking the ones that were 50 years old when I got them, like from relatives—those coins are now 100 years old! Maybe I should try to sell them. Anyway, this book is probably the wrong place to learn about rare coins. What it’s good for, to learn about, is how people will fuck everything up! It’s a heist, of course, of coins, at a convention at a hotel—so I like the setting. As the story starts gathering the cast of misfits, we get to know them a little, and we also get the setup, as if we are the criminals trying to figure out how to pull it off. Right from the start, I’m saying, no! Abandon this one! Forget it—it’s got bad news written all over it. Of course, no one listens to me, and if they did, there wouldn’t be a book. The character of Parker is pretty off-putting at the beginning, and I was thinking of ditching it after the first few chapters, but as soon as the caper planning started clicking the book started clicking. Parker doesn’t like himself between jobs, either. I quickly got caught up in it, and the rest was irresistible. Nothing really spectacular as far as characters (except for Parker), or the way it’s pulled off, or the language—except for maybe that it’s told in a crystal-clear matter-of-fact way—and there’s a lot of pleasure just in that. Now, I might be hooked—or if not hooked, exactly, curious, certainly, about the series.

7.23.25

Asymmetry

Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday (2018) I think I came upon this book because I was reading about Philip Roth—and the first part of the book is about an older writer, seemingly inspired by Roth, who is having a relationship with much younger woman who is also a writer. I love stories about writers, and I found this one fascinating, even as it made me cringe, but I was hooked. I listened to the audiobook version and the narrator of the first part annoyed me to the point of almost putting it down, but then coming around to it—like a kid first drinking beer—and almost liking the style. Maybe I just got to really like both characters—and it is quite funny. The second part of the book is completely unrelated, except that it’s possibly written by the woman in the first part; I may be misreading that, or it may be terribly obvious—I’m sometimes a bit dense. This part of the book is mostly first person, an Iraqi American man who is trying to visit his brother in Kurdistan but is being detained at an airport for no reason—so it’s confusing and frightening. While in this limbo he reflects on his life in a very straightforward, matter of fact way—and it’s surprisingly compelling and very interesting. I really liked the reader of this section. But also, as he is recounting horrific incidents of violence and war, it’s horrifying. To me, really depressing. I admit that I avoid reading about the horrors of injustice and war—not that I try to act like it doesn’t exist—but I try to protect myself. I find this depressing almost beyond being able to bear it. Is it good for me to open my eyes, more—probably—but I don’t run after experiences like this. The book tricked me into it—and I’m guess I’m okay with that. The third part of the book is an interview with the older writer in the first part. It’s very funny, and I guess illuminates the novel as a whole, somewhat—also, works structurally to close it. All in all, it’s an unusual approach—perfect for a novel. It all worked for me.

7.16.25

Prep

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld (2005) I decided to research “campus novels” (for undisclosed purposes) though part of what I’ve come across have been prep school stories, like “The Lawrenceville Stories”—and this one. The very first episode in this book is similar to one in Lawrenceville—and, for all I know, every prep school book since time immemorial! The funny thing is, I’ve been working on a story, based on my childhood, with similar age characters—though, in summer before high school. (One of them had attended an Eastern prep school—not part of my experience—and I’m now wondering how off I am!) Anyway, I nearly gave up on this book almost immediately, but I’m glad I didn’t because I ended up really liking it. I’m trying to figure out what won me over. Good writing, sure, but just as much, because the main character, Lee, is so strong—she’s relatable, likable, interesting, and maddening. As for the latter, you just want to shake her, and say—talk to people, communicate, come out with it—but then—if we really remember ourselves at this age (which is maybe not possible) —how paralyzed and inarticulate we were. Which, most people, essentially, remain. So, I can’t criticize her (or the author’s rendition) because that’s how people are. What I do criticize are stories (often screenplays) where people are unrealistically articulate. Anyway, somehow, we follow her through all four years—and it’s—not only not unbearable—it’s a lot of fun. Emotional, sure, and sad, but also funny, and constantly mysterious, yet really very commonplace (in a good way). One other funny thing I had in common, we (Lee and I) both learned something about talking to newspaper reporters at almost exactly the same point in our senior year. Hers is a much bigger deal—a pretty dire situation—the whole story kind of hinged on it. Mine just embarrassing. But still, I saw it coming, and I wanted to tell her, “Never tell a journalist anything!” It’s a harder lesson to learn than you’d think. Also, don’t read reviews. (I was somewhat relieved the author didn’t overtly reveal Lee as the author of this book.) Also, for the love of God, ignore the nasty, miserable fucks on Goodreads. Lee ends up being somewhat more well-adjusted than I was—my final gesture was the double “bird” in the air while walking away. That would have been appropriate for Lee, as well, but she (who had things much harder than I ever did) shows a bit more maturity.

7.10.25

The Mystery of the Ruby Queens

The Mystery of the Ruby Queens by Betsy Allen (1958) Number 12, and the last book of the Connie Blair Mystery Series, all of which have a color in their title, which I’m a sucker for. I have all the books now—and this one is supposedly hard to find—at least a nice, old, copy like I have—and even though I haven’t read them all, I went ahead and read this one—because I don’t know if I’ll get to all of them. I haven’t liked any of the books as much as the first one—they bum me out a bit, since Connie is a little conservative and a little obsessed with fashion. Here she has a cool task, though, through the ad agency where she works, making sketch samples of layers of wallpaper in an old mansion that’s being renovated. Connie lives in Philadelphia with her aunt, continuing her education and career, and seemingly looking for a man (she meets a swell guy named Happy in this book). The story takes place during the holidays, so there’s brisk air and a bit of snow. The Ruby Queens in question are some priceless ceramic figurines that have gone missing from the mansion, and even though it seems that everyone wants Connie to stay out of it, she can’t help investigating, because she’s a natural sleuth! There are some eccentric characters and, of course, some danger—once again Connie gets knocked unconscious. It’s probably a good thing she retired after this one! Also, they were running out of colors.

7.2.25

Brooklyn Motto

Brooklyn Motto by Alex R. Johnson (2024) A great setup for a smalltime private investigator novel—Nico Kelly does surveillance on people who are collecting money for disability claims, trying to catch then in particularly incriminating action that would prove their injury fraudulent—it’s bottom-of-the-barrel PI work. He’s a smart guy, though, I’m guessing late twenties, with a lot of potential—but he’s got to make a living. Also, it’s late Nineties New York City—which mean beepers rather than smartphones, bars and diners with a lot of personality, and no social media. And then a hilariously apt development early on—Nico’s boss tells him his SLR photos aren’t going to be good enough anymore—he’s going to need video. Also, his budget for renting a car a gone—so he’ll need a car. Naturally, Nico doesn’t own a car—and he sure doesn’t have a video camera! This works metaphorically, oddly, but also, in a practical sense—technology and transportation are a big part of all detective stories. Along with a cavalcade of eccentric, questionable, loveable, dangerous, and devious characters. Plenty here. Nico’s family history is complicated, to say the least, as are his friendships and relationships. And then, very quickly, a life-changing, chance situation arises—which leads to the intrigue, mystery, and suspense that continues to intensify up to the end. It’s a page-turner, to be sure. But there’s also plenty of time for nostalgia, for NYC of 25 years ago, which is tempered by harsh examination of corruption, greed, and racism—all in plain sight, of course, as you’re well-reminded. Suspense without anxiety—which is like a magic trick, story-wise—is pulled off here. Followed by a satisfying—while realistic, with plenty of cynicism—conclusion. The story is fast-paced, and funny, and despite some truly evil behavior, there’s plenty of warmth to go around. And there’s a set-up for a series—if that happens, I’ll read the next one.

6.25.25

Life

Life by Keith Richards and James Fox (2010) I knew about this Keith Richards autobiography, but I’d been kind of avoiding it—not so much afraid that it would be dull as, perhaps worried that Keith would lose his mystique. I wonder if he had similar concerns—maybe when younger—but that’s one of the nice things about getting older. Also, it’s really long—like 600 pages! I never finished reading any of those Rolling Stones “tell-alls”—but I do love the movie, Cocksucker Blues (1972). The most insight I’ve had into the man has come from movies—Godard’s Sympathy for the Devil (1968), and the Chuck Berry documentary, Hail! Hail! Rock’n’Roll (1987). And those just create more mystique. Keith Richards has always been one of my favorite musicians, so why not—I got the audiobook. It’s narrated by Johnny Depp (who sounds exactly like Johnny Depp) and someone named Joe Hurley, who sounds even more slurry and messed up than Keith, and parts by KR himself, which is great. If he’d read it all, himself, you could buy a copy and listen to it in the evening at bedtime, on a continuous loop, just for the comfort of his voice. The many tales he tells are hilarious, of course, also harrowing, upsetting, informative, entertaining—what you’d hope for—fulfilled. And there’s even a surprising (or, not surprising, for him, but surprising for a “rock star”) degree of humility. My favorite parts are where he talks about music—it might be “shop talk” to some—but great to hear that stuff from him. That’s the heart of the book—the most exciting and inspiring stuff, here, for me. I’m sure I’d like to pick up a printed copy and bookmark those sections and read then again. As far as the adventures, there are more of them than seems possible for one man, and many of them are a lot more outrageous than you could even imagine.

6.17.25

I Am Not Sidney Poitier

I Am Not Sidney Poitier by Percival Everett (2009) I wanted to read another Percival Everett book—thought I’d see what I could get an audio book version of—tried this and got caught up in it—immediately funny and entertaining and very strange. The narrator is really good (who I should make a point of crediting: Amir Abdullah) especially as the first-person protagonist with the unlikely name, Not Sidney Poitier—who is both wide-eyed and naive, but also very smart—a good combination for a reader to go along for the ride—named that by his eccentric mother who also invested early in Ted Turner’s companies—but dies young, leaving Not Sidney wealthy—and also raised partly by Turner. It’s evident early on that some situations (and dreams) in Not Sidney’s epic adventure are based on plots and stories from Sidney Poitier movies—some of which I’ve seen many times, but maybe not lately—and some not at all—so I considered waiting to read this until after I revisited some of those movies. But I was already caught up in the book. I certainly don’t think a work of art needs to be only one thing—so it works very well, for me, that the story deals with issues of racism, classism, wealth and poverty, the South, power struggles, you name it—while at the same time is one of the most hilarious books I’ve come across—and the humor is at once lowbrow, absurd, sophisticated, and pointed. One of my favorite parts, actually, is when Not Sidney goes to college and enrolls in a class called “The Philosophy of Nonsense” with a professor named “Percival Everett” whose lectures are ridiculous—he’s a great character—and is ultimately more than a minor part. I want to go back and read those parts, they’re so good—I guess I’ll have to get the book. But as an audio book, it’s worth a re-visit, as well, as I feel like I was only scratching the surface of some of the book’s themes and could understand more, and then be able to talk about it more in depth. Rigorous, but not a chore, because it’s quite entertaining.

6.12.25

Skippy Bedelle

Skippy Bedelle by Owen Johnson (1922) Subtitled: “His Sentimental Progress from the Urchin to the Complete Man of the World”—this is one of “Lawrenceville Stories” books about a boys’ boarding school set in the late 1800s. If the publication dates on Wikipedia are correct, it would seem that this book was published about ten years after the original four or five Lawrenceville books—so, I’m wondering if it’s a sequel to, or a revisiting of, or a reworking of those books. I’m wondering how it compares—so now I’ve got a project—to find and read those books! At any rate, I initially picked it up because I’d never heard of it, and it’s got a spectacular dust jacket—guys eating ice cream at the “jigger shop.” Since I’ve been seeking out campus novels, lately, I read it—found it challenging at first—it’s long for a kids’ book (40 chapters!) and it took me a while to get into the rhythm and sense of humor, but once I did, I was hooked, and I loved it. It’s the funniest book I’ve read in a while. The humor is very dry, particular, and perhaps of its time, but once you’re on to it, it’s endlessly charming and satisfying. There is a 3-part dramatic TV series from the Eighties you can watch on YouTube that is taken mostly from the previous books—Skippy and his roommate, Snorky, don’t figure in it—but many of the characters in the TV show are present in this book (Doc Macnooder, The Prodigious Hickey, The Triumphant Egghead, The Tennessee Shad, among others). So, that series serves as an excellent companion for this book. This volume follows the highly ambitious Skippy Bedelle through some distinct stages of his development—first his attempts to achieve fame and fortune (the ultimate goal: an introduction to Lillian Russell) through his ingenious inventions (bathtub heat regulator, mosquito-proof socks) that all go terribly wrong. Then his interests shift to romance, and we follow him through a string of relationship problems, each one more convoluted, tortured, and hilarious than the last. The book has a killer ending, too, which I wouldn’t even think of trying to summarize—you’ve got to work up to it, but I’m not kidding. I would recommend this book to anyone, and like I said, I’m planning on reading the others in the series.

5.29.25

These Precious Days

These Precious Days by Ann Patchett (2021) I don’t read many books of essays—not because I don’t like essays—but because I’m never going to get to a fraction of the fiction I want to read, in this lifetime—and generally, when I do read an essay, it’s something I’ve chosen by subject matter more than by author. But for some reason I began listening to the audio book of this one (read by the author) and before I knew it, I was caught up in one after another, regardless of subject matter, and for the duration—this was the thing I looked forward to each day. It’s a great book. I suppose Ann Patchett is just a really interesting person, besides being a good writer, so I kept wanting to know more about her—and these are very personal essays. I found I relate to her in many ways. The title is from “September Song”—one of my favorites—and it’s the title of the book’s centerpiece, about a friend dealing with cancer. I admit, I avoid cancer and illness stories, generally—partly as a denial of mortality—and partly because I feel like they are either too sentimental—or if they make a point of avoiding sentimentality, then they’re that. So I was kind of tricked into this one, for which I’m grateful, because I loved it. Maybe part of why it worked so well, for me, is because it’s more about the person than the disease—and a really unique, fascinating portrait. Anyway, sure I was devastated. And soon, then, the book was over, and I felt compelled to go out and buy a copy, just to own it. Book lovers may relate to that, that desire. Also, now I can, of course, pick it up and re-read an essay here and there—my favorites, like the one about her decision not to have children—a collection of reactions and comments she’s endured because of that choice (as a man, I had no idea). Stuff about writing, and publishing, and owning a bookstore—also big favorites. And I liked them all. This is a book I’ll return to—I might read it, next time, or listen to it again, or a combination. I’ve been known to read along with audiobooks, on occasion.

5.24.25

I’m Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen

I’m Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen by Sylvie Simmons (2012) I’ll admit, I started this book while Leonard Cohen was still alive, and I was quite enjoying it but got bogged down at some point—and I was sad when he died but didn’t jump right back into it. It’s a huge book—which seems funny to say when you compare a book to someone’s life—a book is tiny. But as a book—it’s so full and thorough—at least as far as I can tell— and well-written—it’s great. And she was in touch with L.C., throughout, it seems, and that really helps. But I’m a slow reader—and also, I wanted to take my time. I was halfway through, put it down for a while, then got the audiobook and started over. I was fascinated by every part of his life, but oddly, more and more as he got older. I guess I relate a lot more to the older Leonard Cohen—and he seemed way too young to die at the age of 82. Oddly, I have never been the biggest fan—I still haven’t gotten all the way through any of his books. I like all his music, but I only really love some songs, here and there. Well, like with every other recording artist, I go through phases of intense interest followed by cooling way down. I remember vividly when the I’m Your Man record came out—one of those that shocked me by its unexpected weirdness—and I went through a big phase then. I’ve always really liked reading about Leonard Cohen—and have always been inspired by him in a similar way as Hunter S. Thompson—but not because of drugs, or excess—but as models of how to live a life in a really off-kilter way—real oddballs, but also with an ease, and great sense of humor. I was especially fascinated by the part of his life where he was swindled out of his money and then had to start playing live again, partly out of necessity—which turned into something more—and it seemed like what he was supposed to be doing. Of course, I don’t believe in that—the “supposed to be”—but there’s something there. Anyway, this feels like one of those books I could read again—or just kind of always be reading—go back to from time to time for inspiration.

5.20.25

Meg and the Disappearing Diamonds

Meg and the Disappearing Diamonds by Holly Beth Walker (1967) Meg Duncan Series Book Number One—this is a short series (6 books) and they’re easy to find, so I thought I check one out. Also, relatively short and maybe for slightly younger readers (though kids should read what they want to!) and the most important thing, Meg has a Siamese cat named Thunder. Sure to be trouble! It’s another series about a kid whose mother is dead—I still haven’t found a good essay about why this was a trend—probably multiple reasons—one of which is that Nancy Drew’s mother is dead. Though, this mystery is more along the lines of Trixie Belden, younger kids, and Meg has a best friend, Kerry, who has a horse—but also an annoying little sister, Cissie, who reminded me of Trixie Belden’s annoying brat, little brother. Meg and Kerry are great, though, good friends, and Meg’s got an inspiring personality, very similar to Trixie. The mystery in this book is a bit weak, though, kind of stretched thin, and predictable. But that’s okay, there’s a couple of twists. Also, there is one truly weird character—I don’t want to give anything away—actually, I probably have, just by saying that. Anyway, this woman is a truly weird oddball—pretty much outside any kind of reality, or behavior a human being has—you could almost just stretch the story into sci-fi/fantasy/horror by eventually determining she’s a robot, or cyborg, or space alien, or witch. I’ll check out the next Meg book, sometime, which does have “witch” in the title!

5.14.25

High Times, Hard Times

High Times, Hard Times by Anita O’Day and George Eells (1981) This is a great memoir, even if you’re not a fan of Anita O’Day, or even if you haven’t heard of her—of course, I can’t imagine someone reading this and not wanting to listen to her music—and liking it. I was a fan from way back—she’s a unique jazz singer. You can’t find her records (cheaply, like any jazz) but it’s easy to find her music online. It took me years to read this book, but that is no criticism—on the contrary, I was able to take time off and go back to it—no problem—and I looked forward to it. Of course, I’ve forgotten a lot now and could probably re-read it. Anita O’Day was a real character, eccentric both in artistry and lifestyle—really inspiring to me, and I’d think inspiring to musicians, and jazz enthusiasts, and women, in general. She had to deal with sexism from the beginning, of course, in the entertainment industry, and society—and as she had close personal and professional relationships with Black artists, she saw a lot of racism firsthand. As a longtime drug user, she also had to deal with law enforcement and the justice system. Her voice in this book is always full of determination, intelligence, and humor. I know that memoirs are always part fiction, part myth, part truth—and I’m not sure how the co-writer, Eells, contributed, but the book is very well structured, if relentless. Always entertaining—no matter how harrowing. Overdoses, death of friends, some particularly harrowing depictions of abortions, at a young age. She had several close important relationships, but you get the sense that she spent a lot of time alone (with a beloved dog)—and she was good at being alone. The best stuff of all, though, is her talking about music, her learning, and accomplishment, philosophies, and intimate takes on other great jazz musicians.

5.4.25