I read so many books. When I finish one, I immediately start another. This creates all kinds of problems. One of them is that not only do I read something that is really good, but  I immediately forget the title because I am already reading something else. So when a friend asks for a book recommendation, I cast around in my head for a glimmer of something identifiable about that book, and come up with something lame, like “I forget the title, but it’s about a guy. I think it was a guy. He was solving a mystery about a set of bones. No, wait. He was an invalid. It could have been a woman, actually. The title had the word window in it, as I recall.”

The plots blend together, like a sort of mash. Murders, affairs–people who get or find letters from other, long-dead people. Characters named Bartholomew. Woods. A lot of woods. Cold that is compared to needles, electric shock, the eyes of wolves, or the hearts of angry women.

It is rare that I remember the title, plot line, and author of a book I read. I remember authors, because of the gorgeous lines they write, but whoa, I get all those brilliant books sort of mingled up in my head. It is very rare that I have total book recall. So I did some research on my Kindle and got clarification. Here is a list of things that I have read and liked. I have them totally straight in my mind. For this moment!

THE MADWOMAN UPSTAIRS by Catherine Lowell. So terrific–about a young woman who is the last remaining Bronte. You will love it.

THE TWO FAMILY HOUSE by Lynda Cohen Loigman. Great story about family. Comfort reading, in a way.

THE EXTRAORDINARY LIFE OF SAM HELL by Robert Dugoni. An eye doctor with red eyes. Sounds horrible, doesn’t it? It is wonderful.

PACHINKO by Min Jin Lee. A family saga. You will learn a lot about Korea and Japan.

THE MARSH KING’S DAUGHTER by Karen Dionne. Her father is a serial killer escaped from jail, and he is a master of living in the wilderness. No one could possibly find him. Except for his daughter. And she needs to find him before he kills her and her children.

CLASS MOM by Laurie Gelman. She’s just like the rest of us who suck at being the perfect parent. This was hilarious, and I wish I had written it.

LAURA AND EMMA by Kate Greathead. A mother, single. A daughter. A story of raising a child in an off-kilter and unique way. I loved it.

STANDARD DEVIATION by Katherine Heiny. Another one I wish I had written. A book about marriage, but that isn’t enough to say about it. It’s funny, irritating, and insightful, all at once.

THE SNOW CHILD by Eowyn Ivey. One of the most beautiful books I have ever read.

TELL THE WOLVES I’M HOME by Carol Rifka Brunt. It’s not about wolves. I resisted reading it for so long because I thought that it was. It is about the beauty of true friendship. You will never forget it. Even though I did.

A PIECE OF THE WORLD by Christina Baker Kline. The author is the one that George Herbert Walker Bush groped from his wheelchair, but you shouldn’t read it for that reason. It is about the story behind Andrew Wyeth’s painting Christina’s World, and it is lyrical, entrancing, and one book I have not forgotten or mixed up with any others. So you can see why I have included it here!

THE CHILDREN by Ann Leary. Family. Ugh. Secrets and lies. You will love and hate these people.

There you have it–another book list. I should mention that my own publisher is awaiting what I hope are the final rewrites for my next novel, THE WORLD CAME TO US. We have a book cover and everything! I am starting on this project tomorrow. It has been hanging over me like an overdue term paper. Wish me luck and fantastic similes. I hate metaphors.




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