The Shenandoah Album trilogy is off to a great start!, Jul 10 2004

But the main reason for the family problems could be attributed to the untimely death of the youngest member of the family, a death that had occurred three years earlier. Tessa MacCrae lost her only child Kayley to a drunk driver three years ago. Kayley was only five. Not only has the death put a strain on her marriage, it has also forced Tessa to shut down her emotions completely, not allowing anyone to see that she is hurt by the death of her daughter. She tries her best to erase any evidence that her daughter had existed, to the dismay of everyone around her.

As the novel opens, Tessa and her mother Nancy are trying to gain entry into Helen's home in Toms Brook, Virginia, in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley. And it is not a pretty sight. It is hot and humid outside, and Helen is doing her best to deter her daughter and granddaughter from coming in the house. She throws things out her window, such as pieces of clothing, in the hopes that she can scare her family away. Helen fears they are coming to take her away, and she refuses to leave her family home.

What Tessa finds, and Nancy has already feared, is that Helen is now living the life of a pack rat, and it is a classic case. There is no room in the house for anyone to walk, let alone live. It is literally a fire hazard. Rodents and insects live with Helen. Stacks of newspapers and boxes and all sorts of other things fill each room from floor to ceiling, and it's now up to Nancy and Tessa to clean the place up and determine whether Helen can live on her own. Nancy and Tessa's mission is to spend the summer months with Helen, while helping to clean up the house and decide at the end of the summer whether to let Helen stay on her own or move her to a home.

While the three women are living together and getting the house slowly back into shape, Tessa finds quilts that were stored away. She never had an interest in the quilts, but Nancy and Helen know that there is a story behind each one. As they look at each quilt, the stories of their past come rushing out. Helen bares her soul (an act that this crotchety old woman has never done before) and tells the other two women the story of her childhood, the poverty that was her life, and the love of her life that was her husband, Fate Henry. In turn, Nancy talks about her childhood, her hatred of being poor and wishing she could be swept away by a wealthy gentleman, which indeed did happen, by her husband Billy. Her story, like her mother's, was not a fairy tale but one of struggle and hardship. Through these stories, each woman gains an understanding of her own mother, bringing the three of them closer together.

While Tessa learns the story of her mother and grandmother, she herself must deal with her own tragedy and repair the marriage that she is about to lose. When her husband Mack informs her that the man who killed their daughter, Robert Owens, has been let out of jail early for good behavior, Tessa goes into a rage and decides to take the law into her own hands. This behavior helps to drive the two even further apart, as their marriage is already on shaky ground. Mack's involvement with a support group has introduced to him a younger woman who he has discovered feelings for, and Tessa finds herself pushing away from Mack, no matter how much he begs her to stay.

WEDDING RING is the first of a trilogy of books based on life in the poverty-stricken Shenandoah Valley. The Shenandoah Album trilogy is off to a great start with this novel, filled with richly drawn characters and stories that will warm the heart. If this book is any indication, the next two installments will be winners. WEDDING RING comes highly recommended.

--- Reviewed by Marie Hashima Lofton

This Political Thriller is a Novel for All Seasons, Jul 10 2004

Vince Flynn has made a career of writing espionage thrillers that read as if they could be subtitled "The Real World for Dummies." His creation, CIA operative Mitch Rapp (great name), is the type of guy you hope and pray exists and is on our side. Rapp is a pragmatist who is in constant trouble with everyone, from the President on down, because he consistently refuses to color inside the lines. If you've lost a wink of sleep over the fraternity hazing, locker room towel-snap to which a few Iraqi prisoners of war were subjected, you'll probably find Rapp's methods a bit extreme. But Rapp is that rarity, a guy who does what needs to be done in the most effective way possible. The fact that this behavioral aberration on his part results in him saving the country's bacon time after time never seems to enter into the equation, at least with those who tend to treat terrorist acts as grist for intellectual discussion and nothing more. The learning curve is temporary, and steep, for those folks; Rapp's approach is that he will go over them or through them if they do not get out of the way.

Flynn and Rapp are at the top of their respective games in MEMORIAL DAY. Intelligence indicates that a major terrorist attack is in the offing. Rapp leads a daring --- and secret --- commando raid into Pakistan to take out an al-Qaeda vipers' nest. That is just the beginning of the story, however. Rapp and the Special Forces unit he commands discover plans for a devastating nuclear attack on the United States. Rapp acts quickly and decisively, and the attack is thwarted. Or is it? Rapp feels that there are some loose ends to the whole matter and, despite the best efforts of the career second guessers and pencil pushers who have the ear of the President, soon discovers that the plot is far deadlier than they thought --- and that it is still operative. Rapp leads a team in a race against time --- and against liberals in the President's cabinet --- to thwart a plot aimed at the very highest levels of government.

Flynn demonstrates that he is an absolute master of his craft in every way that matters. His writing style creates a work that is built for speed; the pages fly by while the suspense quotient is ratcheted so high that it makes your hair hurt. The title of the book may be MEMORIAL DAY, but it's a novel for all seasons. Highly recommended.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

This enjoyable collection will hook readers from the launch, Jul 10 2004

Greenlaw approaches the lunch nervously thanks to her determination to coax Alden to retire from fishing because of his heart condition. She fears fishing will be the death of him, but she knows he won't accept her guidance in any remotely graceful manner. The author describes Alden as her mentor. He taught her countless lessons about fishing and about life, and gave Greenlaw her first experience as a ship's captain. However, Greenlaw adds affectionately, he has also given her the world's worst advice in all areas. Thanks to his financial counsel, she disregards student loans and credit card payments. She also credits Alden with teaching her countless bad habits. He's lacking in the social graces and has taken pains to never learn a thing from her. Yet Greenlaw adores Alden and calls him "the most amazing man I've ever encountered."

Before the subject of Alden's ill health is approached, a random comment from him launches Greenlaw into the first story, a musing on an ex-beau, Alan, and his incredibly poor luck as a fisherman. That bad mojo included wrecking a friend's motorcycle, mechanical problems with his boat, poor fishing, sunken ships, and being cheated. He was also lied to, stolen from, punched by a crew member, and on and on.

After Alan's story is finished, Greenlaw gathers her courage to introduce the subject of Alden's health as they order lunch. A storm threatens, which inspires Greenlaw to relate her tale at sea during "the storm of the century." At the time of the storm, in March 1993, Greenlaw was captain of a lobster fishing rig. She chose to ignore warnings to head to shore --- a decision she profoundly regretted when the storm hit.

Alden then gleefully one-ups Greenlaw's tale of terror. And so it goes, one story after the other. The lunch and storytelling last until after ten at night. The tales consist of horror stories and a ghost story, high adventure and low humor. In one yarn, a whore awakens to find herself at sea on a fishing expedition; in another, Greenlaw encounters a legendary and charming outlaw. All the stories celebrate the love between fishermen and the sea.

If I sometimes feel Greenlaw describes the technical details of fishing a little too thoroughly (a tangled wire is a tangled wire, and telling what it is, how it tangled and how to untangle it slows the story), I suspect others won't necessarily agree with me. At any rate, the book's yarns are so enthralling that any mini dissertation is a mere minor distraction. Indeed, Greenlaw's love for fishing and the sea invigorate her prose. Her beautifully compelling description of life at sea is so irresistible, it's all I can do not to head for the nearest fishing vessel and (try to) sign on when I read:

"The ocean has a way of swallowing your troubles, leaving you with a carefree feeling, while at the same time enforcing the notion that you are indeed the master of your own destiny. So, if you are making any headway at all toward a desired destination, you become so content that you dream of staying offshore forever.

The simplest things became astounding. The commonplace became remarkable."

The same can be said for ALL FISHERMEN ARE LIARS, a book that will hook readers from the launch and make them glad (...)

One of my favorite books of 2004, Jul 10 2004

The novel opens with a prologue that takes us to the end of WWII. A war veteran, Joseph Crosby, has brought his wife Amy and infant son Joe to Maine, taking a risk by purchasing and re-opening a fishing camp that he learned to love as a boy. The prologue depicts a war hero who is about to risk all he has for the hopes of a better life, as the couple has spent their entire life savings to start anew in this remote part of the country.

The prologue is misleading, as the reader will at first assume the story is about a WWII veteran, but it is not. THE SUMMER GUEST instead revolves around Joe, Joseph's son, Joe's wife Lucy, and the wealthy businessman who becomes their friend. It is their relationship that drives the plot to its conclusion, ending with the third generation member of the Crosby family, Kate. What makes this book a must-read is the skill that Cronin uses to create these characters, making each of them come alive, and the story that is behind each character. The relationships that are formed are what make this book worth reading, and the mystery behind what really happened between Joe, Lucy and Harry come together by the end of the book, culminating with a revelation that affects everyone, especially Kate.

A different person narrates each chapter, telling the story of the past from varying viewpoints. Jordan Patterson opens the book with his introduction of Harry Wainwright and his current wife, their baby daughter January, and his grown son Hal from his first marriage. Jordan, who works for Joe and Lucy, spends his time doing odd jobs, helps take guests out on tours by the lake, and helps run the camp. It is a simple life, and he doesn't make a lot of money, but it's what he loves, and he lives at the camp all year round. Jordan's job that weekend is to see that Harry gets his last chance to fish before he dies.

As the novel progresses, the past is told in bits and pieces. Joe and Lucy's story starts with Lucy taking a job at the camp during the summer months. She's a teenager, a few years younger than Joe, and their story takes the novel to the height of the Vietnam War. Joseph takes yet another risk in life when he helps his son dodge the draft by sending him off to Canada, a seemingly contradictory action to take on the part of a WWII vet. A very involved plot line, it also tells the tale of Harry's love for Lucy, whom he met when he was still married to his first wife, who at the time was dying from a terminal disease, and Lucy was still a teenager. It is a love that spanned three decades.

Harry is the core of this novel. It is his story, ultimately intertwined with Joe and Lucy's past, that brings the plot to the present day. Their past lives are slowly revealed by each narrator until the secret is finally told by the end of the book.

The entire novel reads like a story out of another era, with the backdrop of the fishing camp as a reminder of another place and time. It is hard to believe that THE SUMMER GUEST actually takes place in 1994. Reading this book makes one think about lazy summer days from years gone by. If nothing else, Justin Cronin paints a beautiful picture of this out-of-the-way part of the country, creating a wonderfully magical place where the past mingles with the future. And with it, a poignant love story interspersed with tales about the Vietnam War is what makes THE SUMMER GUEST worth reading.

--- Reviewed by Marie Hashima Lofton

This arguably ranks among the best of Mosley's work, Jul 10 2004

Mosley's latest Rawlins novel arguably ranks among the best of Mosley's work; certainly it is one of his most accessible. Mosley's plots occasionally become so complex that the reader can become lost in the events. This is not the case with LITTLE SCARLET, though it is by no means a simple tale. It is a multi-layered story of complicated people and the wrong, unintended and otherwise, that is so often done.

LITTLE SCARLET takes place during and after the Watts race riots. While Rawlins doesn't condone the senselessness of the participants' actions, he does understand their rage and appreciates that a corner has been turned. It is against this backdrop that Rawlins finds himself summoned by the LAPD and asked to assist in the investigation of a murder. A woman named Nola Payne, known as Little Scarlet, was brutally murdered in her Watts apartment at the height of the riots. Payne had given shelter to an unknown white man who had been attacked by rioters; the man is now a suspect in the investigation of her murder.

The police are reticent to send white officers into the area due to the riots and feel that Rawlins's race, coupled with his abilities as an effective, albeit unofficial, private investigator, will be a better method of determining who murdered Payne. Rawlins, though not part of the riots, is feeling the exhilaration of the mood of the times and cannot resist repeatedly and, at times hilariously, bearding the police in their own den.

Rawlins also receives a letter of empowerment as a consultant from the Deputy Police Commissioner. This serves as an interesting plot vehicle, not only for getting Rawlins out of occasional jams, but also for increasing his stature among his friends, such as Raymond "Mouse" Alexander. There is one vignette involving Mouse, Rawlins and the letter that provides some comic relief in this otherwise grim story of duplicity, anger and forbidden passions. Rawlins discovers the identity of Payne's murderer soon enough, but the catalyst for the murderer's anger is a mystery until this fine work nears its conclusion. Along the way Rawlins grapples with a number of temptations of the flesh and spirit, trying to remain true to others but first and foremost to himself, a good man trying to stay that way in a flawed and dangerous world.

Rawlins has steadily developed and grown as a character and, like the work of his creator, is not easily defined or characterized. It is this quality, with Mosley's poetic turns of phrase, memorable characters and realistic settings that make LITTLE SCARLET, with his other work, such worthwhile reading.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

Certainly Worth the Ride!, Jul 10 2004

Keep reading KILL THE MESSENGER, though, because his life just gets worse and worse as this new novel by Tami Hoag progresses. Damon is not only given a lousy after-hours assignment --- picking up a package from Lenny Lowell, a bottom-feeding defense lawyer --- but soon finds himself being attacked and blamed for the brutal murder of the selfsame lawyer. So far as the Los Angeles gendarme can tell, Damon was the last one to see the counselor alive. Damon's fingerprints are all over the murder weapon, the lawyer's safe is open...things don't look good for our impoverished bike messenger.

Add the fact that Damon is the sole support of his little brother and that a middle-aged Japanese couple are the only people standing between the Damons and a Dickensonian existence, and you get the sense that Damon is in desperate straits indeed --- especially when it seems that half of the L.A. Police department is looking for him, along with a killer, the guy who really offed Lowell and who is trying to get that package to which Damon is clinging so desperately.

The only authority figure who feels as if something is wrong with the whole bike-messenger-as-murderer scenario is Kev Parker, an unorthodox LAPD detective who is clinging to his job by his hangnails. Parker thinks that the scenario of Damon --- who, by the luck of the draw, was sent to Lowell's office --- as murderer and robber makes no sense. Parker soon comes to believe that the murder of Lowell, and the package that is causing Damon so much trouble, is tied into a high-profile murder trial that is taking up most of the daily newspaper headline space. What Parker knows, however, is more than he is able to prove. Unable to trust anyone in his own police department, Parker goes it alone in an effort to get to the bottom of two murders and save Damon's life.

Hoag almost succeeds too well in KILL THE MESSENGER. The opening of this book is literally breathtaking --- and this before any crime is committed! --- and while it remains high on drama throughout, it saves the resolution of far too much for the last few pages. This is not to say that there aren't huge surprises in KILL THE MESSENGER, including a huge one that caught me napping. It's just that there seemed to be too many of them crammed into too few pages. KILL THE MESSENGER is certainly worth the ride, however, and Hoag's legion of long-time fans, as well as anyone reading her work for the first time, will not be disappointed.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

A Deftly Written and Engaging Memoir, Jul 5 2004

It started out meaning simply someone who travels somewhere to see the local sights. But over time it has taken on a strong odor of disapproval. "Tourists" arrive in huge crowds, create congestion, behave rudely, drink too much, speak in weird accents, leave trails of litter behind them and condescend to the locals. Economically they are a necessary evil in the eyes of residents (I once heard a board member of Colonial Williamsburg complaining about the damage inflicted there by tourists: "Couldn't they just stay home and send the money?").

Ken McAlpine, however, is a different kind of tourist. Unhappy with the stress and bustle of American life in general, he set out --- alone --- in his van to find places where what he considers the true spirit of "real" America survives. His hunting ground was the East Coast, from the Florida Keys to Lubec, Maine. And just to show that he was no typical tourist, he traveled in midwinter, largely avoiding the better-known tourist roosting places in favor of out-of-the-way areas, like the spot on the New Jersey shore where one resident told him, "We don't want people to know where Strathmere is." No Sanibel, Hilton Head, Cape May or Hamptons for Ken McAlpine.

McAlpine has chronicled this offbeat odyssey in a deftly written memoir. He is an experienced travel writer with a nice gift for simile and metaphor and a gift for seeking out crusty local characters who seem wedded to the places they inhabit. OFF SEASON is enjoyable reading, but it also has a subtle undercurrent of concern for an imperiled American lifestyle that McAlpine treasures. He deplores the creeping advance of urban sprawl toward the unspoiled places he finds, and he sides unashamedly with the small-town heroes who are fighting against it.

The major East Coast cities --- Norfolk, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, Boston --- are either skirted entirely or summarily dismissed as obstacles to be got through as quickly as possible en route to more interesting places like the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Tangier Island, VA, or Montauk at the eastern tip of Long Island.

McAlpine has a thing for "the loveliness of islands." Fishermen, beaches and water bulk large in his narrative. He went to the trouble of packing a kayak into his van so he could periodically go off by himself and paddle around looking for exotica, human, vegetable and animal. And the casual reader will painlessly learn a fair amount about fish and fishing. Several of the places he visits can be reached only by boat. There are no maps in OFF SEASON, so it is a good idea to have an atlas handy as you read.

Summer weather was still around in the Florida Keys when he started out in October, but as he gets farther north winter is an increasingly bold presence, culminating in a harrowing night spent in a ditch when his van slid off an isolated rural road in Maine. He finds his interest shifting from meeting colorful people to spending time alone, tramping beaches or exploring inlets to drink in a sense of inner peace.

The spirit of this engaging book is well captured by the picture on its cover. A group of empty canvas beach chairs stand, backs to the viewer, looking out over a flat expanse of water. A thin line on the horizon suggests, rather than depicts, a far shore. A lone gull inspects the scene. Not a "tourist" in sight.

--- Reviewed by Robert Finn

There's no way to put this mystery down once you've begun it, Jul 5 2004

Guest's prose is spare, which is not to say it's simple. She simply does not waste words, and uses them well. Her narration --- here she uses the third person present --- compels and commands reading; there is no way to put down THE TARNISHED EYE once you have begun reading.

Guest's tale is based on two true-life crimes that occurred in Michigan in the 1960s. One of them --- the brutal murder of a family of six in northern Michigan --- abruptly intrudes into the life of Hugh DeWitt, the Sheriff of otherwise idyllic Blessed, Michigan. DeWitt, still grieving over the loss of his infant son years before, is emotionally ill-prepared to investigate the carnage that he finds at the summer home of the wealthy Norbois family from Ann Arbor.

DeWitt nonetheless doggedly investigates the matter, and soon finds that suspects abound. Paige Norbois was having an affair, while her husband Edward had discovered that his business partner was embezzling from the company. One of their sons had a confrontation with a couple of ne'er-do-wells from the town on the night of the murders, and a local handyman is caught absconding with evidence at the scene of the crime.

DeWitt's investigation takes him to Ann Arbor, which is awash in terror, thanks to the serial murders of four young women. DeWitt is troubled by some of the similarities between the Ann Arbor murders and the Norbois killings. When Norbois's business partner commits suicide, it appears that DeWitt's investigation has come to a close. It is in fact, however, only beginning. DeWitt's plodding but methodical investigative style is extremely effective. He never draws his gun, or even raises his hand in anger throughout the course of THE TARNISHED EYE. Indeed, all of the violent acts giving impetus to the investigations take place off of the page, but the overriding impression is that DeWitt is a force to be reckoned with, a man who should not be underestimated.

Guest is not a prolific author, but what she perhaps lacks in quantity she makes up for in quality. THE TARNISHED EYE, as with all of her work, has been worth waiting for and will hopefully expose her to a new and wider audience.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

A gripping, if somewhat uneven, novel, Jul 5 2004

OSPREY ISLAND's major plot is a compact story, but the novel explores a multitude of smaller stories. At its heart is Squee, a little boy whose mother is killed in the aforementioned fire and whose alcoholic father is a danger to himself and others. Suzy and Roddy, two former island residents who have returned and brought various demons with them, struggle to help Squee and to define their own smoldering relationship. Roddy's imperious mother, who knows every secret but cannot bend this situation to her will, is a key figure and perhaps Nissen's finest creation in the book.

Nissen's first book --- and still her best --- was the finely wrought collection of short stories OUT OF THE GIRLS' ROOM AND INTO THE NIGHT. Neither her first novel THE GOOD PEOPLE OF NEW YORK nor OSPREY ISLAND is as consistently strong as that collection, but the new novel shines when its chapters most resemble a Nissen short story. For example, the chapter titled "The Broodiness of Hens" is a highlight of the book despite (or perhaps because of) its departure from the main plot to pursue back story and character development. It is here that Roddy's mother --- the overly symbolically named Eden --- comes to life on the page in a way that makes her the book's de facto center.

Similarly, the chapter titled "Grief-Spurred, Swift-Swooping" is a devastating passage featuring Squee's father Lance and a young Irish girl named Brigid, who is on Osprey Island to work at the tourist lodge for the summer. Nissen builds a suspenseful exploration of sexual gamesmanship gone horribly awry through a series of small but seemingly inexorable moments and decisions. Both chapters confirm Nissen's mastery of the short form and are the most powerful moments in her larger narrative.

The accumulation of such small moments makes OSPREY ISLAND a gripping, if somewhat uneven, novel.

--- Reviewed by Rob Cline

John Katzenbach's Fine Novel is a Winner, Jul 5 2004

THE MADMAN'S TALE is not meant to be read on the bus, in a doctor's waiting room, or places of similar hubbub. This is a narrative that demands your undivided attention without distraction. It commences with the interruption of Petrel's post-treatment existence by a voluntary, invitational return to the now-shuttered Western State Hospital. Petrel's day-to-day life is a simple one, consisting of walking the streets under the influence of a medicational regimen (the description of which, while short, is worth reading over and over) and residing in a small, income subsidized apartment, dependent upon the public dole, the kindness of strangers and the occasional charity of his sisters.

Petrel's return to the now-shuttered Western State Hospital some 20 years after his treatment (residency? incarceration?) at the facility is not without purpose. There is a proposal to raze the buildings on the grounds of the former mental hospital and to give the property some high-end residential gentrification. Petrel, as a former patient, is invited to a symposium presented for the purpose of presenting and advancing the plan. Petrel, as he is quick to tell us, is not there to listen to speeches; he is there to visit the grounds he came to know too well. His brief visit awakens memories, never really slumbering, of his treatment there and what occurred at that place and time, events that have repercussions into the present day.

Returning to his sparsely furnished apartment, Petrel begins to tell his tale of what occurred during the time of his treatment. The medium by which he begins writing the narrative that constitutes the bulk of A MADMAN'S TALE is one of the first of many indications that Petrel's problems remain significant, if not immediately obvious to a world that regards him as merely unable to effectively function. His memoirs, which dip and swirl around his fellow patients and the dark and terrible events that involved them all, take on the semblance of a quiet nightmare from which Petrel has yet to escape. His account of the discovery of the desecrated body of a young nurse-trainee is particularly chilling. The reader senses it coming, but it is no less frightening. Even with the sense of foreboding that permeates THE MADMAN'S TALE, one can never fully anticipate what will happen from page to page, practically to the end of the work.

Katzenbach, as he has demonstrated time and again in the past, is a quiet stylistic marvel. He can do more to establish an atmosphere of unease in a single paragraph than many writers can do in entire pages or chapters. It is no surprise that THE MADMAN'S TALE has been optioned for development as a film. Think lots of shadows, lots of grays, and lots of silent heart attacks following the viewing, not to mention the reading.

The late Shirley Jackson used to do this so well, in terms of creating a dark atmosphere in which neither the reader nor the narrator knew precisely what would happen next. In THE MADMAN'S TALE, Katzenbach finishes the work that Jackson left undone.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub