Review: Sold on a Monday (by Kristina McMorris)

My Rating: 4 stars

A Goodreads friend had introduced me to Kristina McMorris's works awhile back ago and I even added a few of her books to my TBR at the time, but unfortunately never got around to reading them – so when I found out that she would have a new book out in August, I immediately requested an ARC (and happily got approved right away).  Even without that though, taking one look at the cover made me already want to read this book.  Honestly, who wouldn't be moved even a little bit seeing a little boy on the cover, seated on the grassy floor, his head down, arms over his knees, waiting all by himself with a lone suitcase by his side, the title Sold on a Monday written right above him?  As the saying goes, pictures speak a thousand words, and that cover picture, along with the ones described in the book (as well as the original picture in the Author's Note which McMorris explains actually inspired this story), are ones I can't stop thinking about.  I don't have any kids of my own, but I have an 8-year-old nephew whom I adore and absolutely can't imagine living without, so it is unfathomable to me to think that a parent (or parents) could sell their children so willingly, regardless of the situation.  Looking at those pictures, I was curious and wanted to know more – yes, I wanted to know the story behind the pictures, but beyond that, I wanted an explanation, one that would help me understand the heartbreaking scene in the photographs.  Going into this book with these pre-conceived thoughts, I was expecting the story to be deeply emotional, despite the fact that I already knew this wouldn't be the "real" story behind the original photograph, but rather a fictionalized version based on McMorris's own research and interpretation.

Set in the early 1930s in Pennsylvania and later New York, against the backdrop of the Great Depression and its after effects, we follow society reporter Ellis Reed as he tries to scope out a satisfying story to earn his keep at the local newspaper he works for.  While on assignment, he snaps a photo of two boys next to a slightly rundown house and only later notices the sign in front that says '2 children for sale'. It is this photograph that becomes the catalyst for the entire story, putting Ellis on a path of events that unfold in the most unexpected of ways.  By his side is Lily Palmer, a young mother working as a secretary to the chief at the same noticeably male-dominated newspaper – she befriends Ellis and eventually becomes involved in his story after the haunting image of the children being put up for sale in the photograph triggers memories of her own past.

I was captivated with this story from the start.  Compelling and well-written, this story is not simply about Ellis getting his big break in the cutthroat world of a fast-paced and often unforgiving newspaper outlet, nor is it simply about Lily's struggle as an unwed mother who is trying to rise above society conventions and make a life for herself as well as her child.  The story is more complex and through the fate of the children, leads us to an exploration of morality and ethics in journalism, but more importantly, pushes us to think about our own perceptions and biases as well as our natural tendency to judge others and at times formulate a quick opinion based on limited knowledge.  McMorris did a really great job with the historical aspects of this story, with establishing time and place and relaying with vivid detail various aspects of the newsroom environment, as well as what was going on in society as a whole during that era.  I also liked that McMorris tried to incorporate an element of suspense by ending each chapter with a cliffhanger of sorts, which kept me as a reader engaged and continuously turning the pages in an effort to find out what happens next and the eventual fates of the children at the center of the story – Calvin and Ruby – both of whom captured my heart from the beginning.  Character-wise, both Ellis and Lily were well-drawn and were characters that I liked as well as rooted for – however for some reason, I found it difficult to connect with either character on an emotional level, which bothered me a bit.  Perhaps I was just never convinced about Ellis and Lily's relationship from the getgo, plus my focus from the beginning was on the story of the children, so the romantic element that was added, though not overwhelming, did become a little bit of a distraction.  Therefore, while I enjoyed this book overall and it was a good as well as necessary read for me, I didn't "love" it the way I thought I would.  

Regardless though, I still highly recommend this one, as it is well worth the time – the insights into society as well as the newsroom politics during that era were wonderfully captured and the story itself also left me with some interesting food for thought.  At the back of the book, there is a section entitled "A Conversation with the Author" where McMorris details some of the things that she considered while writing this book and one of things she said about truth in journalism that really resonated with me, but also makes this a very timely read given what we are going through currently in our society: "[I] think it's really important to remember in today's world of viral post and images and sound bites that we all bring our own perceptions to the table.  And that inevitably these are skewed by our past experiences or even an unconscious desire to see what we want to see.  More than ever, quick judgments based on those snippets, and certainly pushing the moral line in reporting, too often can have devastating consequences to others – as Ellis learned the hard way."  

Though this was my first time reading Kristina McMorris's work, it certainly won't be my last.  I am definitely looking forward to reading the rest of her books at some point down the line, hopefully sooner rather than later.

Received ARC from Sourcebooks Landmark via NetGalley and Edelweiss.

Review: The Late Bloomers’ Club (by Louise Miller)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

After a slew of emotional, heavy, intense reads, I needed a "palette cleanser" of sorts, something light-hearted and not too long, a book that would be a perfect wind-down to summer -- Louise Miller's The Late Bloomers' Club fit the bill nicely!  This is a charming story set in a small town in Vermont, with characters so endearing that I found myself taking to them almost immediately.  I grew up in the hustle and bustle of a big city where everyone was always so busy trying to meet the demands of city life that it was often hard to develop friendships with others in the same neighborhood, let alone the community at large.  Because of this, I'm often attracted to books about small towns where everyone in the community know each other and the natural inclination is to band together and help each other out in times of trouble – this is the exact type of community at the center of this story, which revolves around Nora Huckleberry, owner of the Miss Guthrie Diner, her free-spirited sister Kit, and cake lady Peggy Johnson who bequeaths the sisters with her home and property upon her death.  While the sisters are tasked with having to decide whether to sell the land to the big-box developer that Peggy was in talks with prior to her death, they also have their own personal issues to deal with – add to that the differing opinions from everyone in the community, some of whom want the growth opportunities that the developer would bring, while others oppose any change that could potentially threaten their livelihoods.  These various conflicts were incorporated into a narrative that featured many elements of a heartwarming, "feel-good" story – small town atmosphere with ordinary people living ordinary lives, close-knit friendships, sisterly and family love, plenty of descriptions of mouth-watering foods and desserts, lush depictions of farms, orchards, country houses, a light touch of romance, and yes, Freckles the dog (one of the characters I adored the most, lol).  The result was a well-balanced story with just enough depth to keep things interesting, but still maintain a light, warm tone that made this an easy, fun read.  While it's true that much of the plot was predictable and the ending was tied up a little too nicely, that was to be expected with this story, so not much of an issue there.  If I had one "complaint," it would be that the narrative was told entirely from Nora's first person point of view, which made the writing a little bit clunky in some parts – I think the story would've been better told in third person, especially since the other characters aside from Nora also factored into the story in significant ways. 

With all that said, I did enjoy this one overall and actually would like to read this author's first book, The City Baker's Guide to Country Living, which it sounds like is a companion piece to this book (same setting and some of the same characters).  Overall, a worthwhile, recommended read!

Received ARC from Pamela Dorman Books via Penguin First to Read program.

Review: Rust & Stardust (by T. Greenwood)

 My Rating: 5 stars

Prior to reading this book, I knew very little about the real life abduction case that had served as the inspiration behind Vladimir Nabokov’s controversial classic Lolita.  All I knew was that such a case existed and that the name of the “real-life Lolita” was Sally Horner, who was 11-years-old when she was abducted.  Going into this book, all I knew was that it would be a fictional retelling of Sally Horner’s story and with my limited knowledge of that case, my first instinct was to do my own research and get some details down before starting – but one of my friends who had read this book earlier suggested that, in order to get the full impact of the story,  I should wait until I finished the book before looking up any further details about the case, so I decided to follow that advice.  While I’m not sure whether knowing details of the case beforehand would’ve affected my reaction to the book or not, I can say that almost immediately after finishing the last page and closing the cover, I went online in a frenzy and looked up everything I could possibly find about Sally Horner’s case.  At the time, I felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to look up the real-life facts of the case, not because I wanted to validate what I had just read (since I already knew this would be a fictionalized account), but because the story had such a huge impact on me emotionally – looking back now, I realize I wanted to find out details of the real-life case so I could convince myself that what I had read in this book was more fiction than fact and in doing so, hopefully restore the confidence I had lost in a society that had let a depraved, sick individual like Frank LaSalle – whose previous offenses should’ve been enough to keep him locked up for good – out loose into the world and do the horrible things that he did to Sally.  Unfortunately, the society we live in currently hasn’t changed for the better, as these horrific cases continue to happen even now -- the Frank LaSalles of the world continue to get let out into society (when there is absolutely no sensible reason for them to still be walking the streets) and continue to destroy the lives of innocent children as well as their families.

Needless to say, this book was tough to read and while I applaud the respectful and sensitive way that the author T. Greenwood handled the subject matter, reading this book still left me emotionally drained.  My heart broke over and over again reading about Sally’s horrific ordeal and I found myself crying out in angry frustration over each missed opportunity, each dashed hope, each chance that people had to “do something” but either couldn’t or didn’t want to bother.  The way that Greenwood handled the narrative, alternating the voice between Sally and the various characters in the story (thankfully never from the abductor’s point-of-view) was hauntingly powerful and for me, played a huge role in making the story so emotional and heartfelt for me – I especially appreciate how Greenwood gave each member of Sally’s family a voice and explored their feelings, emotions, actions, etc. in so much depth, giving this fictionalized story a necessary realistic depth that is not often found in imagined retellings of real-life events.

Greenwood did a phenomenal job with this book  – the delicate way in which she handled the story, telling what needed to be told but in a manner that was careful not to exploit and that was sensitive to both Sally’s family as well as the readers of this story; the way she was able to bring the characters to life so wholly and completely and have them occupy her readers’ hearts so fully, to the point that I will admit I felt a little disappointed when I learned from the Author’s Note at the end of the book that some of the characters I had taken to were actually not real, only figments of the author’s imagination.  As for the writing, I have to say that I am completely in awe of Greenwood’s skill – the prose she used in telling the story is beautifully rendered, almost lyrical in some places, flows well, and is incredibly atmospheric.     After I finished the book, I went online and found the HazLitt article that Greenwood mentioned in the Author’s Note (link to the article is here for those interested: https://hazlitt.net/longreads/real-lolita) and after reading the article, I am blown away by how well Greenwood was able to incorporate all those real-life details with the fictional elements of her story so seamlessly -- resulting in a retelling that is poignant, convincing, and comes across absolutely authentic! 

The HazLitt article mentions some of the abduction / captivity cases that occurred in recent years (Elizabeth Smart, Jaycee Dugard, Colleen Stan, etc.) and the fact that the victims in those cases “published or will publish books about their long-running ordeals.  They can tell their stories the way they wish and when they choose, and attempt to make something meaningful of their lives.  Sally Horner did not have that choice.”  Now, through Greenwood’s beautifully written novel, Sally can finally get the chance to tell her story – for me, this is a little bit of solace given the heartbreakingly tragic life that this brave girl endured.  This is another unforgettable story that I know will stay with me for a long time to come.

Received ARC from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley

Review: Not Her Daughter (by Rea Frey)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

We have always been taught that taking something which doesn't belong to us is wrong, especially so in the case of taking a child away from her family without permission – but what if the intention is to rescue the child from a physically and mentally abusive mother?  What if the new life that is given to the child is one of love and happiness, something that her real parents are incapable of ever giving her?  Does that make things right?  Or is the moral obstacle of such an action too big to overcome, regardless of how noble the intention might be?

This was another book where I was so caught up in the story that I plowed through the book and finished it in 2 days without realizing it.  On the surface, this might sound like a regular kidnapping story – a 5 year-old girl goes missing, an investigation is launched, a search for the kidnapper, exploring all possible leads, details emerge and the investigation turns to the parents at one point, with possible foul play suspected, all efforts exhausted to locate the kidnapped child, the ensuing media frenzy, etc.  A little ways in though, we start to realize that this is no ordinary kidnapping story  -- in this her debut novel, author Rea Frey takes the traditional kidnapping story and turns it completely upside down, inside out.  To me, this was not a mystery or suspense novel where we're trying to figure out who did what and why, nor was it an edge-of-your-seat thriller filled with explosive twists and turns – rather, this was an emotionally gripping story that explored many complex issues such as motherhood, parent/child relationships, child abuse and its damaging effects, love, loss, and the morality of doing the wrong thing but with the right intentions.  

Frey's writing is so good here – the plot moves forward at a fast pace with the kidnapping, the manhunt, the investigation, but yet the characters are also so well-drawn -- through the alternating narratives told from the perspectives of the mother (Amy) and the kidnapper (Sarah), we are drawn deep into their minds and given keen insight into these characters' thoughts, actions, emotions, and motivations for doing what they did.  Who should we empathize with?  Should their pasts and the decisions they ultimately make – whether right or wrong -- define them?  After reading this book, I have more questions than answers and putting myself in the main characters' shoes, it's hard for me to say what I would have done in their situations. 

As a fictional story, this worked extremely well, though I would have to agree with other reviewers who've said that at some points throughout the story, it is necessary to suspend disbelief because in real life, things just don't happen the way they do in here.  But the beauty of this story is that, despite the fact that we already know the reality will be different, Frey tells the story in a way that is convincing and believable with characters that are hard not to resonate with in some way.  I don't want to say too much, as I feel this is a story that should be experienced on your own.  I definitely enjoyed this one for the story itself, though I would also recommend checking out the discussion questions in the back, as reading through those gave me some interesting insight and food for thought that made this an even more relatable read for me.  I will definitely be looking forward to what Rea Frey comes out with next!

Received ARC from St Martin's Press via NetGalley

Review: A River of Stars (by Vanessa Hua)

 My Rating: 4.5 stars

Those who live in Southern California may remember that several years ago, there was a huge boom in “birthing tourism” where pregnant women in China would pay a lofty sum for the “privilege” of traveling to the United States to give birth so that their babies would automatically get American citizenship.   The most notorious of the “maternity centers” that made these types of arrangements for the women were all located in San Gabriel, an area that was (and still is) home to a large community of immigrant Chinese.  Seven years ago, the largest of these centers (all operated by the same person) was raided and shut down after neighbors complained about noise coming from the property – authorities arrived to find that the center wasn’t just being used as a “hotel” tending to pregnant Chinese women before and after they gave birth, but part of the center was also operating as an unlicensed birthing facility.  I don’t remember the exact details of the news story now, but I think the owner / operator of the facility was merely fined a small amount of money and told to return the property to its original condition (there had also been illegal construction done where permits were never obtained) while the women who were in the facility at the time of the raid were all deported back to China along with their babies.  I have a friend who lived in the San Gabriel area back then, near one of the centers that had been shut down, and it was from her that I learned afterwards a lot of what went on in these centers and the conditions that the women who lived there faced.  The whole thing was huge news in the local Chinese immigrant community for weeks and had fueled a bitter debate amongst locals over the topic of immigration and the whole “birthing tourism” phenomenon in general. 

Based on the above, it should come as no surprise then that when I read the book summary for Vanessa Hua’s debut novel A River of Stars and found out it covered this exact topic of birthing tourism, I knew I absolutely had to read this book!   Going into this read, I thought I knew what to expect and for the first few chapters, that was definitely the case -- but then this book turned into so much more, to the point that I feel like I am short-changing the book by saying it is a story about birthing tourism and maternity centers alone.  Indeed, the story here goes much deeper than that – yes, this is a story about the Chinese immigrant experience, but it is also a story about identity, class and privilege, the economic divide between rich and poor, survival despite less than desirable circumstances (amongst other themes).   What resonated with me the most (aside from the immigrant experience and the setting in Southern California) though was the author’s exploration of motherhood and family – both of which, to me, were truly at front and center of the story more so than everything else that was mentioned earlier.  Through the fascinating characters of Scarlett and Daisy as well as the myriad of supporting characters who all play important roles in the narrative (Boss Yeung, Uncle Lo, Mama Fang, Viann, Old Wu, etc.), Hua didn’t just write a typical story about Chinese immigrants pursuing the American dream – rather, she gives us a deeply insightful, relatable, sensitive yet honest story that is at the same time culturally resonant as well as timely.  

This story is unique in that it has at its center two strong, spirited, determined, Chinese women who refuse to accept their lots in life and instead, strive to rise above their circumstances, overcome past mistakes, and carve out their own futures, yet are still able to maintain and evolve their cultural identities.  Being myself a female, born into a traditional Chinese family, an immigrant with one foot in the East and the other in the West, an active member in the global Asian diaspora -- I can’t convey enough how special the characters of Scarlett and Daisy were to me.  These are characters that I will definitely remember – deeply flawed, imperfect, vulnerable, yet at the same time strong, resilient, and inspiring.

This is a book I enjoyed tremendously, a story that hooked me from the first page, an entertaining read that was cheeky and fun yet also serious when it needed to be.  This book made me smile and laugh, yet it also made me shed a tear or two.  The writing itself was a bit uneven – I felt that some parts were overwritten while other parts could have benefited from more detail…. and I will be honest in saying that I’m not sure if I like the ending, which to me, the way everything was tied up, detracted a bit from the raw honesty of the rest of the story.  Regardless though, in the overall scheme of things, both of these were very minor flaws in my opinion.  Another thing worth mentioning is that the cultural references in the story – whether in reference to Chinese customs, traditions, beliefs, historical background, etc. -- were all spot-on!   The author Vanessa Hua in this case did not shy away from presenting the good and the bad, putting things out there as is and instead letting the characters and their stories speak for themselves.

One last thing – I didn’t understand the significance of the book’s title until I came to the part that mentioned the Chinese folk tale about the cowherd and weaver girl (a tale that I had of course heard many times as a child) -- which got me thinking about the story as a whole and the parallels to that tale despite the contemporary setting.  This made the story even more special for me.  Obviously, this book is one that I highly recommend – a story that is timely, relevant, and necessary given the world we live in today!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.