A Most Puzzling Murder

Title:  A Most Puzzling Murder: A quirky, humorous locked room murder mystery with riddles and puzzles for the reader to solve

Author:  Bianca Marais

Publication Information:  MIRA. 2025. 480 pages.

ISBN:  0778368602 / 9780778368601

Rating:   ★★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley and a publisher's blog tourfree of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "Destiny Whip warily eyes her bedside table, thinking how it could easily be mistaken for a miniature graveyard, what with all the little pills neatly lined in staggered rows, positioned upright like tiny headstones."

Favorite Quote:  "She wonders why finding your way to your truest self, and then fully embracing and accepting it, is always the most difficult journey of all."

***** BLOG TOUR ***

Review

The subtitle of this book reads, "A quirky, humorous locked room murder mystery with riddles and puzzles for the reader to solve." All things I love - quirkiness, humor, mystery, riddles, and puzzles. Add to that a reclusive, genius main character named Destiny Whip. Add to that a mysterious letter and an atmospheric remote island in a nebulous geographic location but with a family castle. This book has all the makings of a fun adventure.

This book reminds me of the children's books in which you "choose your own adventure." In fact, the reader's introduction to the book references that it is a choose your own adventure book. The fun of these books is their interactive nature and the choice - the thought that as the reader, you are perhaps driving the story. In reality, you know that all the eventualities have already been created by the author. Yet, that feeling of being in control of the story impacts the experience. Eventually, I go back and read all the possible combinations - all the choices. This adds the element of more choices and do overs - something many of us would wish for in real life. 

Given that some of the puzzles involve graphics, I am not sure how different formats for the book would work. The author's website provides a PDF of the puzzle, but have to do that would interrupt the flow of the book. I am not sure how an audiobook would even work especially to follow the different threats out of the puzzles. That being said, the Kindle version worked fine, linking back and forth between puzzle, solution, outcome, next chapter. It was fun. That being said, I am not sure the answers to any of the individual puzzles really impacted the outcome of the book at all. It goes back to the reality that the author has already created all the possibilities. Nevertheless, it was fun to travel along and a nostalgic nod to my childhood reads.

I have now read three books by the author, and each has been completely different. Hum if You Don't Know the Words was about the harsh reality of life in South Africa. The Witches of Moonshyne Manor is about five octogenarian witches whose lives and home is threatened. This one is about mystery and adventure. Each book features strong female characters but in completely different settings and situations. I look forward to seeing where Bianca Marais goes next.

About the Book

Interspersed with riddles and puzzles that both Destiny and the reader must solve, A Most Puzzling Murder is a one-of-a-kind mystery that will leave you guessing and gasping until the very last page!

Destiny Whip is a former child prodigy, world-renowned enigmatologist and very, very alone. A life filled with loss has made her a recluse, an existence she’s content to endure until a letter arrives inviting her to interview for the position of Scruffmore family historian. Not only does an internet search for the name yield almost nothing, it’s a role she never applied to in the first place!

She decodes the invitation's hidden message with ease, and its promise to reveal her family secrets proves too powerful a draw for the orphaned Destiny, who soon finds herself on Eerie Island. It’s a place whose inhabitants are almost as inhospitable as the tempestuous weather. The Scruffmores themselves turn out to be not much better, a snarled mess of secrets and motives connected by their mistrust for one another.

Their newly arrived guest proves to be just as much an enigma to them as they are to her. While Destiny slowly works to unravel the mysteries hidden throughout the ominous castle, she struggles to interpret disturbing nightly visions of what is to come. In the midst of cryptic ciphers, hidden passages, and the family’s magical line of succession, Destiny is certain of two things: one of the Scruffmores is going to die and she’s running out of time to stop it.

About the Author

BIANCA MARAIS cohosts the popular podcast The Shit No One Tells You About Writing, which is aimed at helping emerging writers get published. She teaches creative writing through the podcast and was named a winner of the Excellence in Teaching Award for Creative Writing at the University of Toronto’s School of Continuing Studies. She lives in Toronto, where she loves playing escape-room games and writing about strong female protagonists.

  

Excerpt

Excerpted from A Most Puzzling Murder by Bianca Marais, Copyright © 2025 by Bianca Marais. Published by MIRA Books.

CHAPTER 1
Destiny
Sunday, 9:57 a.m.

Destiny Whip warily eyes her bedside table, thinking how it could easily be mistaken for a miniature graveyard, what with all the little pills neatly lined in staggered rows, positioned upright like tiny headstones. It certainly feels as though she’s regarding the burial ground of her hopes and dreams, haunted by the specter of the enormous potential she’s so dismally failed to live up to.

When you’re declared a child prodigy, everyone expects you to go far in life, but all Destiny has managed today is a slow shuffle to and from the bathroom. Even that required Herculean reserves of energy.

Balancing her laptop on her knees, she reaches to the farthest side of the bed for her emotional-support urn, pulling it close and tucking it into her armpit as though cuddling a teddy bear. She kisses the top of the teardrop shape, the metal cold against her chapped lips.

Bex appears in Destiny’s doorway, leaning her head against the frame. “Good morning.”

Her best friend is still too scrawny, but not nearly as emaciated as she was a year ago when all she feasted on was beauty magazines and models’ Instagram pages rather than anything resembling food. Bex looks mostly healthy again, her long chestnut hair gleaming, the hollows of her cheeks no longer reminiscent of sinkholes.

“You okay?” Bex asks, the corners of her mouth turned down.

It’s the anniversary of the accident today, one year somehow crawling by on scraped knees.

Some people act like severe depression is a tarnish, one that can be polished off with the application of enough elbow grease. Luckily, Bex isn’t one of them.

Destiny tries to speak, but a knot of regret is so tangled up in her throat that the words don’t stand a chance.

Her laptop suddenly squawks with an incoming video call. In the months that Destiny has been seeing Dr. Shepherd, they’ve never once had a virtual consultation over a weekend. But today is going to be a tough one, which is why the psychiatrist insisted on the appointment.

As the ringing continues, Destiny gently places the urn beside her and instinctively reaches for her notebook before paging to the list of tasks the doctor assigned last month.

Bex sidles up next to her, reading over her shoulder.

1. Leave the apartment once a day to go for a walk or grab a coffee.

2. Reach out to an old friend or colleague to suggest a meetup.

3. Replace all the dead plants.

4. Keep a dream journal about the white-haired ghost woman.

5. Email the council expressing your wish to return.

6. Accept one of the consultancies that you’ve been offered (one that doesn’t require travel).

7. Work on forgiving Nate.

8. Limit your interactions with Bex.

Bex side-eyes the last item on the list. “Rude,” she huffs. “You’d think I was a bad inf luence or something.”

Rather than answering Bex or the incoming call, Destiny thinks of how she’s never f lunked an assignment in her entire life. Always top of her class, and despite being admitted to university as a twelve-year-old, Destiny cannot fathom this degree of failure.

She’s ticked nothing off the list, not even throwing away the plants whose shriveled corpses goad her, their untimely deaths undoubtedly due to the curtains constantly being drawn tight. That, and Destiny forgetting to water them.

The laptop’s ringing grates on Destiny’s nerves, but she can’t force herself to answer and face Dr. Shepherd’s disappointment. It will be carefully concealed, of course, with the psychiatrist gently pointing out there’s always next week, or the week after that, to achieve these seemingly simple goals. But it doesn’t matter how much of an extension Destiny is given.

It’s no use.

For how can she possibly cut ties with Bex, who’s her dearest, not to mention only, friend?

Plus, there’s no way the Council of Enigmatologists will take her back after she’s been AWOL for so long. Each time an envelope drops through the mail slot, Destiny fully expects it to be a letter informing her that they’ve completely revoked her membership. It hurts to remember how thrilled she was to be appointed president of the prestigious group just thirteen months ago, and how she, Bex, and Nate all splurged on a fancy dinner to celebrate.

When the call finally drops, Bex exhales, a long whoosh of defeat. “I know I shouldn’t enable you with all the talking, but it’s not like I can call anyone on your behalf.”

They both look down at the wallpaper on the home screen of Destiny’s laptop.

It’s a photo that was taken thirteen years ago when Destiny was eight. In it, her mother’s arm is f lung across Annie’s shoulders, happiness radiating from the two best friends in waves. Destiny’s eyes fill with tears as she studies her mother’s straight black hair and pale skin, and those enormous glasses obscuring most of her face.

Jutting her chin at Destiny’s mother, Bex murmurs, “I wish I’d known Liz.”

Destiny nods before turning her attention to Annie, with her striking Afro and beaded shoulder-duster earrings, and her smile as bright as the sun.

The image was captured two weeks before Liz died. A year later, the paperwork went through to officially make Annie Destiny’s second adoptive mother. Their deaths were a wrenching loss, a tearing in the fabric of Destiny’s being that she never quite stitched back together.

There were times in the before when Destiny experienced the sting of loneliness, that awful yearning of the one forever stuck outside, nose and palms pressed against the cold glass, gazing in at what belonging looked like: foreheads bent together, raucous laughter elicited by inside jokes, sentences finished by those who knew you best.

But this is not loneliness, in the same way that a drop of water is not a deluge, the way a sigh is not a hurricane.

“I’m so sorry that you’re having such a rough time of it,” Bex says, reaching out to tuck a f laming red curl behind Destiny’s ear. She freezes upon seeing Destiny’s expression, her hand hovering like a ghost between them. “A year is a long time, though, and Dr. Shepherd is right despite the fact that she clearly has it in for me. You need to move on.”

God, that Bex is apologizing to her, of all people, when everything that happened was Destiny’s fault.

“No, I’m sorry,” Destiny says, her voice pulled so taut that it snaps. Seeing the pills all standing to attention—no longer a cemetery full of headstones, but rather an army ready to fight the last battle—Destiny reaches for the urn again, stroking it like a security blanket. “If you stop talking to me, Bex, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Not gonna happen,” Bex replies breezily. And then more firmly she says, “Okay, it’s tough love time. You seriously need to shower because you’re stinking up the place. Plus, the kitchen needs cleaning. Those take-out containers have grown thumbs. I swear I caught them trying to hitch a ride to the nearest primordial swamp.”

Destiny laughs at how incredibly bossy Bex is.

Especially for a dead person.

Still, it’s reassuring that no matter how much has changed, some things stay exactly the same.

Buy Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Most-Puzzling-Murder-humorous-mystery/dp/0778387690
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-most-puzzling-murder-bianca-marais/1146847363
Bookshop: https://bookshop.org/p/books/a-most-peculiar-tale-indeed-original-bianca-marais/21435438 
Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/9780778368601 
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-most-puzzling-murder 
AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/a-most-puzzling-murder/id6501987778 
Google Play: https://books.google.com/books/about/A_Most_Puzzling_Murder.html?id=rbs7EQAAQBAJ 
Libro.FM: https://libro.fm/audiobooks/9781488233814-a-most-puzzling-murder 
Indigo: https://www.indigo.ca/en-ca/a-most-puzzling-murder-a-quirky-humorous-locked-room-murder-mystery-with-riddles-and-puzzles-for-the-reader-to-solve/9780778368601.html 
Target: https://www.target.com/p/a-most-puzzling-murder-by-bianca-marais/-/A-93112360 
Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/A-Most-Puzzling-Murder-A-Quirky-Humorous-Locked-Room-Murder-Mystery-with-Riddles-and-Puzzles-for-the-Reader-to-Solve-Paperback-9780778368601/5560832578?classType=REGULAR&from=/search

Social Links

Author website: https://www.biancamarais.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biancamaraisauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/biancam_author/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/biancamarais_author/

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Book of Doors

Title:  The Book of Doors

Author:  Gareth Brown

Publication Information:  William Morrow. 2024. 416 pages.

ISBN:  0063323982 / 978-0063323988

Rating:   ★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "In Kellner Books on the Upper East Side of New York City, a few minutes before his death, John Webber was reading The Count of Monte Cristo."

Favorite Quote:  "Happiness is not something you sit and wait for. you have to choose it and pursue it in spite of everything else. It's not going to be given to you."

A bookstore. A librarian. A magical book. Those who, at first, do not understand the power of the books. Those who wish to use the magic of the books for their own purposes. A main characters whose life seems to be passing by. "Don't waste your life hidden away in your own mind. Make the most of the time you have, otherwise before you know it, you'll have no time left."  Until now.

This book has a setup that has been done before. This book has so many characteristics that appeal to a bibliophile reader. I love books about books and am predisposed to picking a book with a description such as this one. Add to that the intriguing promise of this magical book. "any door is every door. You just need to know how to open them." The story then goes even further with the idea that there is not just one book but a whole series of them. Each one grants its owner a special ability, and yet, this one surpasses them all. I open the door to this book and walk right in.

Cassie Andrews lives a quiet, humdrum life. She is a bookseller in a local shop. She shares an apartment with her friend Izzy. Then, a customer - one of Cassie's favorites - dies in the shop. He leaves behind a book. Not just any book. A magical book. At first, the book is a joy - the ability to open a door or reopen a door considered forever lost in our lives is an appealing one. However, doing so comes at a price.

Cassie and Izzy are thrown into the world of intrigue and are now in the sights of those who want this book. As this is an old conflict, there are sides. Drummond Fox appears as a librarian, educating Cassie on the provenance of the book and what happens if it falls into the wrong hands.

There are skirmishes, adventures, and escapes as Cassie attempts to keep the book safe. I go right along, enjoying the ride. That being said, be warned that the ride gets violent at times, and at times, I feel like I have been on this ride before. Magical book, time travel, good guys, bad guys, and so on. I nevertheless love the premise.

The Book of Doors is a debut novel. I look forward to seeing what the author does next.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Phoenix Crown

Title:  The Phoenix Crown

Author:  Kate Quinn & Janie Chang

Publication Information:  William Morrow Paperbacks. 2024. 400 pages.

ISBN:  0063304732 / 978-0063304734

Rating:   ★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "'A rose by any other name,' someone quote, and Alice Eastwood was hard-pressed not to roll her eyes."

Favorite Quote:  "Well, maybe she was tired of being good. Maybe she wanted to play the game for once, and play it for all she could get."

On Wednesday, April 18, 1906, Northern California including the San Francisco bay area was hit by a 7.9 magnitude earthquake. In the aftermath of the earthquake, massive fires broke out all over the city and lasted for days. Over eighty percent of the city was destroyed, and over 3,000 people died.

This story begins about 2 weeks before the earthquake.

Four women:

• Suling - a young woman in the city's Chinatown trying to avoid a forced marriage.
• Gemma - an opera singer looking for her friend and a new start.
• Nelli - Gemma's friend who seems to have disappeared.
• Alice Eastwood - a botanist. This character is based on an actual historical figure. The real Alice Eastwood was a botanist and is credited with saving part of the plant collection of the California Academy of Sciences during the 1906 earthquake and the ensuing fires. Nothing much survived beyond what she saved. 

One man - Henry Thornton.

One legendary artifact - The Phoenix Crown, an antique from Beijing's summer palace. The phoenix crown actually are called fengguan, and they historically are "hats" or crowns worn by Chinese brides and noblewomen. 

These lives meet and intersect. Plans are made. Alliances are forged. Betrayals happen. There is an incidental love story. It seems there for the sake of being there, not central to the main story of the book.

Then, the earthquake happens, and Henry Thornton disappears along with the crowns.

Five years later, in 1911, the crown reappears. The mystery and the dresire for revenge, retribution, and more brings these characters to a finale crash.

The story introduces each characters and their backstory. It takes a while for the connections to form and for the reader to see the threads come together. The historical setting - the city before, during, and after the earthquake - really comes to life. I can "see" it and feel as though I am walking those streets. 

This book is part historical fiction and part thriller and mystery. The history give the book its vivid color. The female characters draw attention to the challenges faced by women at that time and in that place. The mystery and the chase give the book its pace. The pace definitely picks up more later in the book as the story fast forwards five years. 

Overall, a fun read. This is my first book by these authors. I will likely look for more.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

Midnight in Soap Lake

Title:  Midnight in Soap Lake

Author:  Matthew Sullivan

Publication Information:  Hanover Square Press. 2025. 416 pages.

ISBN:  1335041796 / 978-1335041791

Rating:   ★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley and the Harlequin Trade Publishing's Winter 2025 Blog Tour Program free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "Something was there."

Favorite Quote:  "Collection was distraction. It allowed the journey to never end, like the roads he walked each day."

***** BLOG TOUR *****

Review

Soap Lake is an actual lake and an actual town. The small town has a population around 1,800. In the state of Washington, this lake has many unique features. Its layers of water do not mix; the scientific term is meromictic. It is a "soda" lake, meaning it has a high alkaline nature. It was formed by glacial flooding at the end of the last ice age. It has the name "Soap Lake" because it has a natural foam and its high mineral content gives the water a slick, soapy feel. The lake is about two square miles and is said to have some of the most diverse mineral content in the world. As such, many believe the water to have medical properties. In fact, for a period of time, the location became a site of spas and sanitariums for those suffering from a wide variety of ailments.

The science provides the background for this story because it is the science that brings the main character - Abigail - and her scientist husband Eli to Soap Lake. The story goes that Eli and Abigail settle into a house, and Eli settles into his work. Eli lets himself be tempted by another scientific project in Europe. Abigail is left alone in a new place with no real support system. Then, strange things start happening.

A child is found. A dead woman is found. A connection to the past is found. More strange happenings in the past form a pattern. The question is why and what does it mean for Abigail. I say only Abigail because Eli leaves. This is very much Abigail's story not Eli and Abigail's.

This book is part science fiction because the reality of the lake is based in its science. This book is part thriller and murder mystery. The book is part urban legend with Treetop, the bogeyman of Soap Lake.

Like Matthew Sullivan's Midnight at the Bright Ideas Bookstore, the book slowly peels back the layers to connect past to present. The crimes described are graphic and violent; so, reader, be aware. The ending, when it comes, reverts the mystery to seemingly prosaic issues. I expect something more unusual based on the rest of the book. In addition, I finish unsure if I even understand the reasons why behind the mystery.

This book does get bonus points for featuring a library and librarians who unwittingly become custodian of vital scientific and local history!

About the Book 

A lake with mysterious properties. A town haunted by urban legend. Two women whose lives intersect in terrifying ways. Welcome to Soap Lake, a town to rival Twin Peaks and Stephen King’s Castle Rock.

When Abigail agreed to move to Soap Lake, Washington for her husband’s research she expected old growth forests and craft beer, folksy neighbors and the World’s Largest Lava Lamp. Instead, after her husband jets off to Poland for a research trip, she finds herself alone, in a town surrounded by desert, and haunted by its own urban legends.

But when a young boy runs through the desert into Abigail’s arms, her life becomes entwined with his and the questions surrounding his mother Esme’s death. In Abigail’s search for answers she enlists the help of a recovering addict-turned-librarian, a grieving brother, a broken motel owner, and a mentally-shattered conspiracy theorist to unearth Esme’s tragic past, the town’s violent history, and the secret magic locked in the lake her husband was sent there to study.

As she gets closer to the answers, past and present crimes begin to collide, and Abigail finds herself gaining the unwelcome attention of the town’s unofficial mascot, the rubber-suited orchard stalker known as TreeTop, a specter who seems to be lurking in every dark shadow and around every shady corner.

A sweeping, decade-spanning mystery brimming with quirky characters, and puzzle hunt scenarios, Midnight in Soap Lake is a modern day Twin Peaks—a rich, expansive universe that readers will enter and never forget.

About the Author

Matthew Sullivan is the beloved author of Midnight at the Bright Ideas Bookstore, an Indie Next Pick, B&N Discover pick, a GoodReads Choice Award finalist and winner of the Colorado Book Award. He received his MFA from the University of Idaho and has been a resident writer at Yaddo, Centrum, and the Vermont Studio Center. His short stories have been awarded the Robert Olen Butler Fiction Prize and the Florida Review Editors’ Award for Fiction. His writing has been featured in the New York Times Modern Love column, The Daily Beast, and Shelf Awareness amongst others.

Excerpt

Excerpted from MIDNIGHT IN SOAP LAKE by Matthew Sullivan. Copyright © 2025 by Matthew Sullivan. Published by Hanover Square Press, an imprint of HTP/HarperCollins.

1
Abigail

Something was there.

An animal, Abigail was certain, loping in the sagebrush: a twist of fuzz moving through the desert at the edge of her sight. The morning had already broken a hundred. Her glasses steamed and sunscreen stung her eyes—

Or maybe she hadn’t seen anything.

Yesterday, while walking along this desolate irrigation road, she’d spotted a cow skull between tumbleweeds, straight out of a tattoo parlor, but when she ran toward it, bracing to take a picture to send to Eli across the planet—proof, perhaps, that she ever left the house—she discovered it was just a white plastic grocery bag snagged on a curl of sage bark.

Somehow. Way out here.

The desert was scabby with dark basalt, bristled with the husks of flowers, and nothing was ever there.

When Eli first told her he’d landed a grant to research a rare lake in the Pacific Northwest, Abigail thought ferns and rain, ale and slugs, Sasquatch and wool.

And then they got here, to this desert where no one lived. Not a fern or slug in sight.

This had been the most turbulent year of her life.

Eleven months ago, they met.

Seven months ago, they married.

Six months ago, they moved from her carpeted condo in Denver to this sunbaked town on the shores of Soap Lake, a place where neither knew a soul.

Their honeymoon had lasted almost three months—Eli whistling in his downstairs lab, Abigail unpacking and painting upstairs—and then he kissed her at the airport, piled onto a plane, and moved across the world to work in a different lab, on a different project, at a different lake.

In Poland.

When she remembered him lately, she remembered photographs of him.

The plan had been to text all the time, daily calls, romantic flights to Warsaw, but the reality was that Eli had become too busy to chat and seemed more frazzled than ever. This week had been particularly bad because he’d been off the grid on a research trip, so every call went to voicemail, every text into the Polish abyss. And then at five o’clock this morning, her phone pinged and Abigail shot right out of a drowning sleep to grab it, as if he’d tossed her a life preserver from six thousand miles away.

And this is what he’d had to say:


sorry missed you. so much work & my research all fd up. i’ll call this weekend. xo e


As she was composing a response—her phone the only glow in their dark, empty home—he added a postscript that stabbed her in the heart like an icicle.

P.S. maybe it time since remember using time to figure out self life?


What kind of a sentence was that? And what was a “self life” anyway?

Abigail had called him right away. When he didn’t pick up she went down to the lab he’d set up in their daylight basement. She opened a few of his binders with their charts of Soap Lake, their colorful DNA diagrams, their photos of phosphorescent microbes, as cosmic as images from deep space. She breathed the papery dust of his absence and tried to imagine he’d just stepped out for a minute and would be back in a flash, her clueless brilliant husband, pen between his teeth, hair a smoky eruption, mustard stains on the plaid flannel bathrobe he wore in place of a lab coat.

From one of his gleaming refrigerators, Abigail retrieved a rack of capped glass tubes that contained the Miracle Water and the Miracle Microbes collected from the mineral lake down the hill— she sometimes wondered if her limnologist husband would be more at home on the shores of Loch Ness—and held one until a memory arose, like a visit from a friend: Eli, lifting a water sample up to the window as if he were gazing through a telescope, shaking it so it fizzed and foamed. And then he was gone again.

She hated that she did this. Came down here and caressed his equipment like a creep. Next she’d be smelling his bathrobe, collecting hairs from his brush. It was as if she felt compelled to remind herself that Eli was doing important work and, as the months of distance piled up, that he was even real.

Back when they’d first started dating, Abigail had been the busy one, the one who said yes to her boss too much and had to skim her calendar each time Eli wanted to go to dinner or a movie. Of course her job as an administrative assistant in a title insurance office had never felt like enough, but when she mentioned this restlessness to Eli, finding her path—figure out self life—had suddenly become a centerpiece of their move to Soap Lake. But they got here and nothing had happened. It wasn’t just a switch you flipped.

Abigail slid the tall tube of lake water back into its rack. Only when she let go, the tube somehow missed its slot and plunged to the floor like a bomb.

Kapow!

On the tile between her feet, a blossom of cloudy water and shattered glass.

She stood over the mess, clicking her fingernails against her teeth and imagining microbes squealing on the floor, flopping in the air like miniscule goldfish. She told herself, without conviction, it had been an accident.

And then she stepped over the spill, put the rack back in the fridge and, surprised at the immediacy of her shame, went for a walk in this scorching desert.

It stunned her, how harsh and gorgeous it was.

Loneliness: it felt sometimes like it possessed you.

She hadn’t spoken to anyone in over a month, outside of a few people in the Soap Lake service industry. There was the guy who made her a watery latte at the gas station the other morning, then penised the back of her hand with his finger when he passed it over. And the newspaper carrier, an old woman with white braids and a pink cowgirl hat, who raced through town in a windowless minivan. She told Abigail she was one DUI away from unemployment, but the weekly paper was never late. And the cute pizza delivery dude who was so high he sat in her driveway on his phone for half an hour before coming to the door with her cold cheese pizza, saying, Yes, ma’am. Thanks, ma’am, which was sweet but totally freaked her out. And the lady with the painted boomerang eyebrows in the tampon aisle at the grocery store who gave her unwanted advice on the best lube around for spicing up menopause, to which Abigail guffawed and responded too loudly, “Thanks, but I’m not even goddamned forty!”

At least she’d discovered these maintenance roads: miles and miles of gravel and dirt, no vehicles allowed, running alongside the massive irrigation canals that brought Canadian snowmelt from the Columbia River through the Grand Coulee Dam to the farms spread all over this desert. The water gushed through the main canals, thirty feet wide and twenty feet deep, and soon branched off to other, smaller canals that branched off to orchards and fields and ranches and dairies and soil and seeds and sprouts and leaves and, eventually, yummy vital food: grocery store shelves brimming with apples and milk and pizza-flavored Pringles.

Good soil. Blazing sun. Just add water and food was born.

Almost a trillion gallons a year moved through these canals. T: trillion.

All that water way out here, pouring through land so dry it crackled underfoot.

She halted on the road. Pressed her lank, brown hair behind her ear. Definitely heard something, a faint yip or caw.

She scanned the horizon for the source of the sound and there it was again, a smudge of movement in the wavering heat. Something running away.

A few times out here she’d seen coyote. Lots of quail, the occasional pheasant. Once, in a fallow field close to town, a buck with a missing antler that looked from a distance like a unicorn.

Not running away, the smudge out there. Running toward. She was nowhere near a signal yet her instinct was to touch her phone. She craned around to glimpse the vanishing point of the road behind, gauging how far she’d walked and, if things got bad, how far she’d have to run.

Three miles, minimum. Six miles, tops.

Definitely approaching.

Not something. Someone.

A human. Alone.

Running. A boy.

A little boy. Sprinting.

Abigail froze as their eyes met, and suddenly the boy exploded out of the desert, slamming into her thighs with an oof! He wore yellow pajamas and Cookie Monster slippers covered in prickly burrs.

He clung to her legs so tightly that she almost tipped over. When she registered the crusty blood on his chin and cheeks and encasing his hands like gloves, she felt herself begin to cry, scared-to-sobbing in one second flat.

Deep breath. Shirt wipe.

“Hey! Are you hurt? Look at me. Are you hurt?”

The boy wasn’t crying, but his skin was damp and he was panting hot and wouldn’t let go of her legs. She felt a hummingbird inside of his chest.

She knelt in the gravel and unfolded his arms, turning them over at the wrist. She lifted his shirt and spun him around as best she could. He had some welts and scratches from running through the brush, and the knees of his pj’s were badly scuffed, but he wasn’t cut, not anywhere serious, which meant— The blood belonged to someone else.

Buy Links

HarperCollins: https://www.harpercollins.com/products/midnight-in-soap-lake-matthew-sullivan?variant=43103022350370
BookShop.org: https://bookshop.org/a/397/9781335041791
Barnes & Noble: http://aps.harpercollins.com/hc?isbn=9781335041791&retailer=barnesandnoble
Amazon: https://www.amazon.ca/s?k=9781335041791&tag=hcg-02-20

Social Links

Author Website: http://matthewjsullivan.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mickmatthew1/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/matthew.j.sullivan.77/ 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5690035.Matthew_J_Sullivan

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

Dream Count

Title:  Dream Count

Author:  Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Publication Information:  Knopf. 2025. 416 pages.

ISBN:  0593802721 / 978-0593802724

Rating:   ★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "I have always longed to be known, truly known, by another human being."

Favorite Quote:  "Something inside you, not the heart. The spirit. The spirit cannot break, even if your heart break. Your spirit stay strong."

I love the opening sentence of this book. That idea is something most, if not all, of  us hold dear. To be seen. To be known. To be heard. The unsaid corollary accompanies. We wish to be seen with all our beauty and all our faults, and we wish for that someone to love for all our beauty and our faults. I am excited to get into the book and follow the idea.

I love the idea of the book - interconnected stories of four women, each independent, each strong in her own way, each weak. each part of a sisterhood holding each other up. I am excited to get into the book and learn more about the story of these women. 

I love the presumed setting - the COVID-19 pandemic. We have all just lived it. We have experiences the losses, the isolation, and the heroism. I am excited to get into the book and see perhaps my own experiences brought to life.

I love the author's note at the end of the book. "Novels are never really about what they are about. At least for this writer." ... "Stories die and recede from the collective memory merely for not having been told. Or a single version thrives because other versions are silenced. Imaginative retellings matter." I learn that this story for the author is about her mother. I also learn that one woman's story is also inspired by the story of a poor immigrant woman and what she suffered at the hands of those with more power and money and what she suffered at the hands of the system - "a person failed by a country she trusted." I am excited to get into the book and learn more about this history.

Unfortunately, I struggle with the book itself. The dream of being known devolves into the story of the men who did not "see" rather than of the woman herself. In fact, the stories of all the women become much more focused on the men and the power dynamic of those men in society and in these relationships. The story of the pandemic gets somewhat lost as the women's stories traverse their own histories before and after; the time element becomes less relevant to the book. The historical inspiration I learn from the author's note more so than the story itself.

I find myself putting the book down, reluctant to go back. I persevere, but I am sad, for I so wanted and expected to love this book.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Butterfly Collector

Title:  The Butterfly Collector

Author:  Tea Cooper

Publication Information:  Harper Muse. 2023. 400 pages.

ISBN:  1400245176 / 978-1400245178

Rating:   ★★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "My office, if you please, Miss Binks."

Favorite Quote:  "Never can tell what fate will decide."

The Butterfly Collector is and is not about butterflies - monarchs in particular. The book is a moving historical mystery that tells its story in two timelines - late 1800s in Morpeth, Australia and the 1920s in Sydney, Australia.

In the 1800s, there is Theodora, who would spend her time chasing butterflies rather than social connections and potential husbands.

In the 1920s, there is Verity, a reporter who has lost her job to the men returning from war but who then receives an intriguing gift of a dress and an invitation to a masquerade ball. The proposition offered at the ball leads Verity to Morpeth and what transpired there decades earlier.

The book picks up on two completely different and completely unconnected facets of Australian history. The first history is that of the arrival of the monarchs in Australia in the 1870s. It has never been determined exactly how that happened - larvae on board a ship, an adult that happened to land on an incoming vessel, a long flight by the monarch itself, or some human intervention.

The second history is an unsavory one of baby farming. An infant was placed in the care of someone because of the needs of the parents. Some parents could not care for the baby at all; some needed care allowing them to work and provide for their family. The history goes that some of these children were then "adopted" out by these caretakers for monetary gain. as per the author's note, "Sadly, it was a lucrative and flourishing business in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, general in the larger cities."

The fictional story flows back and forth seamlessly between the two time periods once I sort through all the characters and who belongs in which timeline. While I originally chose the book because of the title and cover about butterflies, I invest in both the histories told and the stories woven around the history. 

The element of mystery adds to the story. Why is Verity chosen for this task? Where does the dress come from? What exactly is the Treadwell Foundation? How does Theodora's story connect to Verity's?

The setting and the descriptions of the landscape, the river, and the homes add to the story as well, making it a very visual story. This, perhaps, even more than the story itself, will stick with me.

This is the first book I have read by Tea Cooper. I look forward to reading more.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Black Angels

Title:  The Black Angels: The Untold Story of the Nurses Who Helped Cure Tuberculosis

Author:  Maria Smilios

Publication Information:  G.P. Putnam's Sons. 2023. 448 pages.

ISBN:  0593544927 / 978-0593544921

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "Every morning Virginia Allen wakes and feels the weight of the hours moving."

Favorite Quote:  "They did it because it was their job, because they had committed themselves to saving lives, at the risk of their own. But also because they were Black women, subjects of the Jim Crow labor laws that offered them few options."

In 1951, the cure for tuberculosis was tested successfully at Sea View Hospital in Staten Island. This book is the history of the nurses involved in that endeavor and in the care of the tuberculosis patients at the hospital. From the author's notes: "All the accounts and scenes in the book - including quotes, thoughts, and reactions - are used on oral reports, which have been corroborated by a wealth of material: newspapers, journals, letters, memoirs, marriage and death certificates, draft cards, medical records, autopsy books, nurses' logs and medicine books, hospital publications, yearbooks, previous interviews, and any other material the librarians could dig up."

The "black" angels is a reference to race. Most, if not all, the nurses were black. The why of that has its history in the Jim Crow South. Tuberculosis is a highly contagious disease. Patients were often isolated in dedicated sanitarium hospitals. Caring for these patients brought with the daily risk of exposure and illness. As such, many who had the choice left the jobs to care for these patients, creating a severe nursing shortage. The hospitals turned to the South, advertising jobs that included room, board, training, a nursing license, and a small salary as compensation take on this risky job.

Many young women of color saw this as an escape from the Jim Crow South and as an opportunity to create a better life. This book recounts the history of these women and the world altering research that their work and dedication made possible.

The book is not just about the hospital and the medical advances. It also tells of the life of the women as they faced the challenges of their jobs and the challenges of continued discrimination and hostility even in Staten Island. Ultimately, it is the inspiring lesson of their strength and endurance.

The term "black angels" was supposedly coined by the hospital patients for they saw the color of the skin and they saw the care that these "angels" brought to them.

Virginia Allen, age 93, is the last alive of the black angels. The author conducted extensive interviews with Dr. Allen and learned of others from her to write this book. "Soon, a rich and vibrant history began to unfold, one that placed the nurses at the center of the TB story and set them against a backdrop of larger themes: Jim Crow, the Great Migration, systemic and institutional racism, front-line labor in a public health emergency, disease and the science of vaccines, and the desire to live a free and meaningful life - the impetus for so many of the nurses and the heartbeat of their narrative." An inspiring history.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Women

Title:  The Women

Author:  Kristin Hannah

Publication Information:  St. Martin's Press. 2024. 480 pages.

ISBN:  1250178630 / 978-1250178633

Rating:   ★★★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "The walled and gated McGrath estate was a world onto itself, protected and private."

Favorite Quote:  "We were the last believers, my generation. We trusted what our parents taught us about myth of equality and justice and honor. I wonder if any generation will ever believe again. People will say it was the war that shattered our lives and laid bare the beautiful lie we'd been taught. And they'd be right. And wrong. There was so much more. It's hard to see clearly when the world is angry and divided and you're being lied to."

I love Kristin Hannah's writing for the focus it brings on strong female characters set in a historical context. Many of her books center around World War II. The Four Winds brought us to the depression era. The Great Alone travelled to Alaska. This book brings us to the Vietnam War.

Vietnam. The very word conjures up images of our nation's history, of those who made the ultimate sacrifice, of those who came home only to find that home had changed, of those who still to this day may receive the honor and services they need as veterans of United States Armed Forces.

Until this book, however, I  have not seen much of the history of or read any stories of the women who served in Vietnam. According to a note in the book, "According to the Vietnam Women's Memories Foundation statement, approximately 10,000 American military women were stations in Vietnam during the war." However, the history and even the veteran services now do not highlight the women.

This book tells the story of the women through Frankie McGrath's eyes. She volunteers for the Army Nurse Corp. The book follows Frankie through the events that lead her to volunteer, the tours of duty she serves, her return, and the challenges of her life after the war as a veteran.  As with other Kristin Hannah books, the one covers a lot of ground, incorporating a multitude of challenges and issued faced by these women - as women, as soldiers, as survivors, and as veterans.

Through Frankie's eyes, we travel the same path:

• "War looked one way for those who saw it from a safe distance. Close up, the view was different."
• "You survived a day at a time, however, you could."
• "Some things don't bear the weight of words."
• "And there it was: remembrance mattered She knew that now; there was no looking away from ware or from the past, no soldiering on through pain.. It started here. Now By speaking  up, standing in the sunlight, coming together, demanding honesty and truth. Taking pride. The women had a story to tell, even if the world wasn't ready to hear it, and their story began with three simple words. We were there."

The book is emotional as you might expect. Frankie's voice resonates through the entire story. I find myself looking up the history that authenticates the story told. This book is not a conversation about the right or the wrong of the Vietnam War. It is rather the story of those who served when called upon by their county. "I'm starting to wonder about it myself. But can't they support the warriors and hate the war. Our men are dying every day in service of their country. Doesn't that matter anymore." Frankie is a memorable character telling a memorable story.

To all the warriors... Thank you for your service.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Disappearance of Astrid Bricard

Title:  The Disappearance of Astrid Bricard

Author:  Natasha Lester

Publication Information:  Forever. 2024. 464 pages.

ISBN:  1538706954 / 978-1538706954

Rating:   ★★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "In the same way that the Electric Circus nightclub in Manhattan is all about sensual overwhelm, so too is the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles, Hawk thinks as he strides in the gallery beside four other men."

Favorite Quote:  "Loving someone and making them feel loved are two different things. It's easy to just love, but it takes effort to make another person believe in that love."

Three women: Mizza, Astrid, and Blythe. Three time periods: 1917, 1970, and the present. Three places - Paris, New York, and the French countryside. Three stories but one theme that is clearly explained in the author's note:

• "Find a famous woman - and find a stream of falsehoods and cruelties in her wake."
• "How and why are women constantly reshaped by the media into something they aren't? And why can women only be the inspiration in the creative process, rather than the creator? Those questions drove the writing of this book."
• "I don't think anyone has to look too far to think of a woman who's been remolded by the media, by gossip, and by spite into something less than she actually was. It's been happening for centuries, and it happens still. I hope historical novelists in one hundred years time aren't still writing notes like this."

Women, the role of women, the standards applied to women in a patriarchy, and the pressures on women have been and continue to be a universal conversation.

This book presents these themes through the intertwined stories of these three generations. Research shows that Mizza was an actual, historical figure, but the other two are fiction. Mizza Bricard is said to have been the Christian Dior's muse! The book sets the story in the high pressure and high stakes arena of couture fashion, which is art but also business.

To some extent, Astrid and Blythe's stories are about breaking away from the past and creating a name for themselves. For Blythe, it is also about the childhood trauma of her mother's disappearance and abandonment. Given the time in history, Mizza's story is also one of war, survival, and resistance. To a greater extent, the central theme is about a woman surviving and thriving in a male-dominated industry. 

Given the three timelines, it takes a while to settle into the story and keep straight which characters belong in which timelines especially as the older characters carry forward into the subsequent generation. However, the three main characters are each unique and each the anchor to their own story. 

The lifestyle of the rich is not relatable, and I can certainly do without the scenes of sexual encounters. I find the insight into the fashion industry really interesting, and, as a woman, the three main characters and their struggles are relatable, making this a memorable read.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Keeper of Hidden Books

Title:  The Keeper of Hidden Books

Author:  Madeline Martin

Publication Information:  Hanover Square Press. 2023. 416 pages.

ISBN:  1335005773 / 978-1335005779

Rating:   ★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "Sofia Nowak sat back on her calves in the warm summer grass while her friend Janina clumsily wound a bandage around her head."

Favorite Quote:  "The world also needs to remember to never take for granted what has been gifted to us through the sacrifice of others: the right to an education and learning, the power and luxury of freedom, and the beauty to appreciate the routine of simple, everyday life."

Much has been written about the World Wars and books - individual and group efforts to preserve and protect books and the comfort and solace books provided to people in dire circumstances. Madeline Martin herself has written about the topic before. This story brings the history of World War II and books and those who found comfort in and sought to preserve books in Warsaw, Poland.

The history, the love of books, and the idea of a strong female protagonist all made me choose to read this book.

The point in history is the onset of the Nazi occupation of Warsaw and the creation of the ghettos to segregate communities. This is not an aspect of World War II history I have read much about. I would have loved to see this side of the story explored more. There is a hint, but it is not pursued. "The entire time I was reading it, I couldn't help but imagine having my own time machine... But I wouldn't go as far into the future as the Time Traveller, not would I go as far back. I would have gone just a few months. Maybe even a year, to see if the world could be altered with one small change."

The love of books - reading and writing them - rings through as you might expect. "Books are the perfect conduit to convey a message to the world. It could be an idea that blossoms into a way of life. It could be a new theory for mankind to explore. It could be a journey of life that few have trod. When you have something to tell, it will simply burst from you and you won't be able to stop it."

The main characters are two young women. Zofia and Janina two school girls who are best friends. Janina is Jewish; Zofia is not. It has never mattered before, but, to much of the world, now it does. They find themselves united in their love of books and libraries. They find themselves on opposite sides of the ghetto borders. Their "Anti-Hitler Book Club" progresses into a courageous effort to protect friends and books.

Because so many books have been written about this history, including books by the author, the book leads to an automatic comparison. This one unfortunately suffers by comparison. I find myself thinking again and again that I have already read this story. I have not, but this one does not stand out and stand apart from the others. This story in and of itself is not memorable, which is a shame because the history needs to be remembered.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

The Bookbinder

Title:  The Bookbinder

Author:  Pip Williams

Publication Information:  Ballantine Books. 2023. 448 pages.

ISBN:  0593600444 / 978-0593600443

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "Scraps."

Favorite Quote:  "The words used to describe us define our value to society and determine our capacity to contribute. They also ... tell others how to feel about us, how to judge us."

As with Pip Williams prior book The Dictionary of Lost Words, I  choose to read this one because - well, books and the art of book binding! The title itself draws me in. The description draws me in further. Two sisters living on a houseboat. A young woman told that she may only bind books not read them. Two siblings - one special needs and one not - somewhat alone in the world. A college and education that is across the street but that may very well be a different world. A coming war. Refugees. A small community. And lots and lots of books!

This story resonates on so many levels.

Peggy and Maude are sisters. Maude has some special needs, and Peggy finds herself in the role of caretaker. However, what does that mean especially as they both become adults? What is Maude capable of? What is she allowed to be capable of? Is Maude's caretaking preventing Peggy from her own dreams or is it a crutch for Peggy to not push past her comfort zone?

Peggy is told that education is not for the likes of her; her role is to bind books not read them. Yet, she reads them. Any binding or folios deemed imperfect end up in her personal library. Against the rules but what harm does it do anyone. She dreams of the college across the street but never envisions that the dream has the possibility of reality.

Peggy and Maude have helpers along the way. Friends and mentors. Many of them are strong women who serve as examples of what is possible in their individual spheres and the gift of paying that forward as help to Peggy and Maude.

The war brings refugees to town which starts many heated conversations, both for and against. It is sad that these conversations are the same ones taking place in different contexts even today.

And, of course, the love of books. I love books that are love letters to the world of books and that speak what I feel about books. "When we bound these books, I thought, they were identical. But I realized they couldn't stay that way. As soon as someone cracks the spine, a book develops a character all its own. What impresses or concerns one reader is never the same as what impresses or concerns all others. So, each book, once read, I realized, will have told a slightly different story." So very true. Each one of us brings our wholes selves to every book that we read. As our perspectives differ, so does our individual read of any book. No two readers ever read exactly the same book.

This story, on all its levels, resonates with me as did The Dictionary of Lost Words. I look forward to seeing what Pip Williams writes next.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.

There are Rivers in the Sky

Title:  There are Rivers in the Sky

Author:  Elif Shafak

Publication Information:  Knopf. 2024. 464 pages.

ISBN:  0593801717 / 978-0593801710

Rating:   ★★★★★

Book Source:  I received this book through NetGalley free of cost in exchange for an honest review.

Opening Sentence:  "Later, when the storm has passed, everyone will talk about the destruction and left behind, though no one, not even the king himself, will remember that it all began with a single raindrop."

Favorite Quote:  "One must walk the Earth with wonder, or it is full of miracles yet to be witnessed."

Elif Shafak is an author who has long been on my list to read. She was born in France, grew up in Turkey, has studied and taught in the United Stated, and, since 2013, calls Britain home. She holds a PhD in political science, known for her outspoken political views. She writes as a journalist and has published fiction and nonfiction works. This is her latest release.

"Water remembers. It is humans who forget." Through a drop of water, this book traverses centuries from ancient Mesopotamia to modern day London, from the Tigris River to the Thames, and from an emperor to a boy born into poverty and abuse, a girl born into illness and genocide, and a woman contemplating suicide.

The book begins with a brief glimpse of ancient Mesopotamia, where a cruel king builds an unbelievable library which is lost with his reign.

In the 1800s, Arthur is born on the side of the road, with no prospects beyond poverty and abuse but with a talent. Helpers and mentors enable him to grow into a life beyond any he could have imagined. It takes him from the sewers of London to the drawing rooms of London and eventually on a quest to Tigris River.

In the same location in 2014, we meet Narin. Through her eyes, we see the genocide of the Yazidi people along the banks of the Tigris River. We also see the love of family and the strength of traditions passed down generation to generation.

The present day of 2018 brings us back to London, the child of an immigrant family who is challenging the expectations of family. She is at a crossroads and considering some extreme alternatives.

The story of these seemingly disconnected people flows seamlessly together. The individual character develop and become real, but the real heart of the book, more than the plot, are the ideas that shine through these characters. The idea that a drop of water can unify us across time and place. The idea that talent and perseverance can overcome the hurdles of poverty. The idea that a mentor has the potential to change lives. The idea that a single action can have ripples across centuries. The damage of imperialism. The horror of religious intolerance and genocide. The plight of a child caught up in such a conflict. The love of family. The power of memory. The memory of the land. The immigrant experience. And so many more.

Through the entire book come life views and thoughts that I find myself furiously underlining passages. I put one passage under "favorite quote" above, but this book has so many I want to contemplate and remember. Here is a sample:

• "He did not see that the only way to become immortal is to be remembered after you have gone, and the only way to be remembered is to leave behind a good story."
• "We never want our parents weaknesses to be seen by others. Their failures are our own private affair, a secret we would rather keep to ourselves; when they become public, for everyone's consumption, we are no longer the children we once were."
• "If, as the poets say, the journey of life resembles the march of rivers to the sea, at times meandering, aimlessly, at times, purposeful and unswerving, the bend in the flow is where the story takes a sudden turn, winding away from its predicted course into a fresh and unexpected direction."
• "Being an outsider is all about survival, and no one survives by being unambitious; no one gets ahead by holding back."
• "The making of a new self requires the unmaking of an old one."
• "I want you to be very successful. Remember, people like us cannot afford to fail "People like us"… immigrants, exiles, refugees, newcomers, outsiders… Too many words for a shared, recognizable sentiment that, no matter how often described, remains largely undefined. Children of uprooted parents are born into the memory tribe. Both their present and their future are forever shaped by their ancestral past, regardless of whether they have any knowledge of it. If they flourish and prosper, their achievements will be attributed to a whole community; and, in the same way, their failures will be charged up to something bigger and older than themselves, be it family, religion, or ethnicity. While the journey of life may be full of reversals of fortune, children from displaced families can never allow themselves to fall below the level at which their parents started it out."
• "Anyone can wait for, for maintaining peace is a difficult thing."
• "The divisions that make up class are, intrude, the borders on a map. When you were born into wealth and privilege, you inherit a plan that outlines the paths ahead, indicating the shortcuts and highways available to reach your destination, informing you of the lush valleys where you may rest and the tricky terrain to avoid. If you enter the world without such a map, you are  bereft of proper guidance. You lose your way more easily, trying to pass through what you thought or orchards and gardens, only to discover they are marshlands and peat bogs."
• "Why are women left out of history? Why do we have to piece their stories back together from fragments - like broken shards of pottery?"
• "Home is where your absence is felt, the echo of your voice kept alive, no matter how long you have been away or how far you may have strayed, a place that still beats with the pulse of your heart."
• "Civilization is the name we give to what little we have salvaged from a loss that no one wants to remember. Triumphs are erected upon the jerry-built scaffolding of brutalities untold, heroic legends spun from the thread of aggressions and atrocities."
• "How strange it is to have carried your convictions like a set of keys, only to realize they will not open any doors."
• "How can anyone assume they will please the Creator by hurting his Creation?"

I will leave with a description of the impact of this book with words from the book itself. "Words are like birds… When you publish books, you are setting caged birds, free. They can go wherever they please. They can fly over the high walls and across vast senses, settling in the mansions of the gentry, in farmsteads and laborers cottages alike. You never know whom those words will reach, whose hearts will to come to their sweet songs." I am so glad this book reached me, and I finally read this author. I look forward to reading more.

Please share your thoughts and leave a comment. I would love to "talk" to you.