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Some Novel Approaches (Some Nonfiction Ones, Too)

I won’t waste your time (and mine) writing about lousy books. Life is too short.

I recommend these books below. These are brief notes (no spoilers) about my recent reading, ranging over fiction and nonfiction.

Click on the book jackets if you want to check out the publishers’ information on each book.

Hope you enjoy.

Yesteryear by Caro Clare Burke (Knopf, $30)

I start my mornings with three dailies — the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Boston Globe. All agree that Yesteryear is the book of the summer. (Or book of the summah, as the Globe might say.) That sounds like “beach read” stuff, which is one of those triggering phrases that might make you want to puke.

For the record: this isn’t your sister-in-law’s beach read. It just so happens this book was published as May rolled around and the timing throws it into the summer-book category.

Forget that noise. This is an engrossing and intriguing and constantly surprising book that has at its center a trad-wife influencer [remark on how that phrase wouldn’t exist 10 years ago] and what happens when she appears to do a Billy Pilgrim move, and becomes unstuck in time. Or does she?

With a deft touch, Burke follows the saga of the influencer’s families [note plural], giving us the chance to ponder the realities we manufacture through social media. Is it life or is it synthetic life?

Corny to say, but true: likely you will be wrapped up in this book long after you finish reading it.

Murderland by Caroline Fraser (Penguin, $32)

This book was published last year, so it’s already out in paperback. [Cheap bastard alert!] I’d go for the hardcover, though, because you’ll carry this book wherever you go until you finish it. A paperback might not survive.

I confess: I like true-crime books (and great detective fiction, by Michael Connelly, Tana French, Michael Koryta and others) and I have read a lot about serial killers. (One of my favorite book titles of all time: Evil Serial Killers … as opposed to warm, cuddly ones?)

This book allows us to ponder the disproporiate number of serial killers from the Pacific Northwest. That’s the author’s home turf and she weaves together the various stories of the killers — Ted Bundy, the Green River Killer, the I-5 killer and others — with her own, and with the manufacturing history of the area.

She comes to the conclusion that lead poisoning from smelters burning and polluting that awful stuff warped the minds of a susceptible lot.

Interesting premise and execution. The personal story does not detract and the details of the killers and their methods will revolt you anew.

London Falling by Patrick Radden Keefe (Doubleday, $30)

I am not always in step with the rest of the world. I never finished Keefe’s book Say Nothing, a bestseller turned television series. But after reading London Falling, I need to give Say Nothing another chance.

London Falling is a terrific book. It follows a small family through crisis and tragedy, as the parents try to learn what went wrong with their second-born son.

Again, the themes of curated identity play a huge role here. There are two sons — the golden child … and the other. Unable to match his brother’s accomplishments, the younger son manufactures another identity and another life, this one steeped in London’s underworld.

Keefe, a New Yorker writer, earns the trust of the family, which gives him the ability to write the story from the inside. Even though we know doom lies ahead, as we read we want to step inside the story, to steer it right.

We realize again, after reading this harrowing book, that parenthood is not a job for chickenshits.

The World’s Worst Assistant by Sona Movsesian (Plume, $30)

First, accept my premise: Conan O’Brien is the funniest human on earth. I’ve always appreciated his humor, but since getting a new (to me) car that came with Sirius XM, I’m rarely off Conan O’Brien Radio. Aside from bits from his 30-plus years of late-night entertainment, it is home to all episodes of his podcast, Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend.

My corollary to the above law is that the second funniest human on earth is Conan’s assistant, Sona Movsesian. Despite the bold claim in the title of her memoir, she must not be truly the worst, since she’s been working with the Red-Headed Phantom for nearly two decades.

Her let’s-get-real personality is perfect foil to Conan’s flights of fantasy and weirdness. Their symbiotic relationship renders Needs a Friend the perfect podcast. The nice thing about it being on Conan O’Brien Radio is that there are no commercials. (Though the commercials are often quite funny when Conan performs them.)

This book is a few years old, so sue me. She has a sequel called The World’s Worst Mom, which I vow to read before frost covers the pumpkin.

This is out in paperback for all of you cheap assholes.

(The podcast is worth your time. Conan is a masterful interviewer.)

Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout (Random House, $30)

William Faulkner has Yoknapatawpha County, Stephen King has Castle Rock and Elizabeth Strout has Crosby, Maine.

Once every couple years, Strout takes us back to Crosby for her rotating cast of characters — Olive Kitteridge, Lucy Barton, Bob Burgess and the town’s other denizens. These protagonists share the narrative, this time with a murder element.

Strout won the Pulitzer for Olive Kitteridge and My Name is Lucy Barton was a best-seller. This book is largely in the hands of Bob Burgess, an attorney near retirement age, happily married but wanting more.

We’re not used to murder as a regular feature of Strout’s narratives, but it’s not much of a reach here. It comes organically from these characters.

This is book about grownups for grownups. Though Strout often indulges in superfluous asides (not quite Now, Dear Reader, but close), her storytelling is swift, efficient and rich with character.

In the Days of MyYouth I Was Told What it Means to Be a Man by Tom Junod (Doubleday, $32)

Much praise has been heaped on this book, but allow me to heap some more.

Junod is a gift-from-God magazine writer whose first book is a memoir. (Let’s hope the publisher is preparing a collection of his journalism for book number two.) The title, borrowed from Led Zeppelin, is perfect. This is all about the life lessons he learned from his father, Lou Junod. Despite being an unrepentant bullshit artist, Lou is nevertheless capable of being loveable on occasion.

Tom grew up both confused and comforted by his homelife. His parents were married for 59 years, despite prolific affairs and bouts of severe unreliability. He was thr youngest in the house, the one who had to deal with parental detente the longest.

So many memoirists pull their punches, but Tom Junod writes with breathtaking honesty. I predict a Pulitzer.

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Life is Short, So Dance

I am from Indiana, and therefore I am rhythmically impaired. I cannot dance. I would have to improve to become a bad dancer.

But I love watching people dance.

I haven’t seen anything as joyful as the dancing in The Life of Chuck since Fred Astaire danced up the walls in Royal Wedding.

Four actors play Chuck in this new film by Mike Flanagan. As a young boy, Chuck (Benamin Pajak) is taught to dance by his grandmother (Mia Sara; be still my heart).

Against social norms of middle school, the boy joins the dance club. So there are scenes with Chuck and his much-taller dance partner (Trinity Jo-Li Bliss) from an upper grade.

Together, the young couple dazzles their classmates by moonwalking.

You’ll wish you were that age again. I’ve always thought that middle school was the worst period of life. This film makes me want to reassess.

Mia Sara beckons young Chuck to dance with her while she makes dinner.

So there’s some lovely scenes with the young folks.

And then there’s the adult Chuck, played by Tom Hiddleston. He starts dancing in the street, inspired by a drumming busker. He sees a young woman (Annalise Basso) in the crowd, who is recently brokenhearted. He extends his hand and thus begins another life-affirming dance sequence.

The film is also in part, a love note to caring teachers. (Chiwetel Ejiofor and Kate Siegel play the teachers.)

Mark Hamill is wonderful as Chuck’s grandfather and he uses his voice and gravitas so well. And Matthew Lilliard has a deeply moving life-is-short scene.

I’m not going to tell you anything else about the movie, because you should go into the theater knowing nothing. Experience the joy of discovery. I’m sure Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert are in heaven, giving us two thumbs up for this picture. I urge you to see it.

This is based on the novella by Stephen King. l best love King’s stories that do not involve the supernatural. He’s so good at writing about kids. “The Body” (filmed as Stand By Me) is a great example of how he has expertly mined his childhood.

I am rarely so moved by a film. I didn’t cry but I came close.

(Then again, I often get weepy at the movies. I was a blubbering mess when I took son Jackson with me to A Minecraft Movie. He was so embarrassed by my behavior that he made me walk 11 steps behind him when we left the theater.)

Janice (Annalise Basso) forgets her heartbreak when Chuck (Tom Hiddleston) invites her to dance in the street.

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Recommended Reading

I miss writing book reviews.

In the 1980s, I became a prolific book critic for the Orlando Sentinel. Around 2000 or so, I began writing for the St. Petersburg Times (now the Tampa Bay Times) and then added Creative Loafing to the mix by the mid-2000s. I even carried the title of book editor for a while. Since moving to Massachusetts, I continued with Creative Loafing for a few years and wrote a dozen or so reviews for the Boston Globe.

Alas, the Sentinel, the Times and the Globe have cut back much of the space that used to go to books and to freelance book revievers.

I miss the reviewing and I miss working with book editors, especially the late Nancy Pate (Sentinel) and Colette Bancroft (Times).

I also miss being able to tell people about good books to read.

So, if you have interest, I’ll give you one-or-two sentence reviews of the stuff I’ve read so far this summer. (And it’s been a good summer — Michael Connelly, Carl Hiaasen and Stephen King all released new novels in May.)

. . . . . . . .

Mark Twain by Ron Chernow (Penguin, $45)

This book is huge (1,174 pages) and it sometimes difficult to read because of its size. We need to have a lecturn and a page turner to read this.

But the content? Can’t remember if I’ve read any biographies of Mark Twain, though I did read the first part of his autobiography, about his early days in journalism.

I can’t imagine any biography topping this one. Ron Chernow has amassed an enormous amount of information and woven it into a rich, lively narrative.

He’s also assessed Twain — Sam Clemens, of course — by today’s standards, discussing the question of his racial attitudes and his banning by school boards.

This is a tremendous book and will be the fastest 1,174 pages you’ll ever read.

. . . . . . . .

What Kind of Paradise by Janelle Brown (Random House, $30)

What a wonderful novel.

Imagine: the Unabomber took his 4-year-old daughter to the cabin when he went off the grid. Fourteen years later, she leaves behind the only life she’s known in order to discover the free world.

That’s essentially the plot of What Kind of Paradise by Janelle Brown.

There are few novels where I feel I am absolutely inside the head of another human being. I recall Sam, the adolescent girl in the middle of Bobbie Ann Mason‘s brilliant novel, In Country. Fatherless, she seeks to learn about the identity of the man — her father — who died in Vietnam before she was born.

Yea, me, an old guy … I feel that I am inside a girl’s head at a time of turmoil.

This is why we read — or at least, that’s why I read.

This book so well recalls Mason’s ealier masterpiece, which came out in the mid-1980s.

I thank both authors for taking me into a world so unlike my own.

. . . . . . .

To Anyone Who Ever Asks by Howard Fishman (Dutton, $32)

Speaking of disappearing, this nonfiction book tells the story of a unique and much admired singer-songwriter, ahead of her time, who just … disappears one day, never to be heard from again.

It’s another huge book, so well done that you find yourself ripping through this telling of Conne Converse‘s life.

It makes us thirst to hear her music, much of which is difficult to find. This calls for a significant eBay search.

Howard Fishman tells her story with grace and does not waste a word. It’s another huge book so well done you are propelled through the narrative.

This book came out a couple of years ago. You’ll probably have to order it from your friendly neighborhood bookseller.

. . . . . .

Fleishman is in Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner (Random House, $27)

I’ve read both of Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s novels this summer. (You can see Long Island Compromise at the right in the picture.) Fleishman is her first novel, and it came out in 2019. It’s the story of a marriage falling apart and a spouse who disappears.

This book was utterly absorbing. I carried it with me wherever I weant and would steal moments at long stoplights to jump back into the story.

By the way, it was adapted by its author, whose unwieldy name invites typographical errors. The television adaptation (which starred an excellent Jesse Eisenberg) is on Hulu, if memory serves.

If you’re not married, this book will make you sink to your knees and thank a higher power that you are single.

. . . . . . .

Three Days in June by Anne Tyler (Knopf, $27)

I’m an Anne Tyler junkie and have read all of her novels. Those books are like three-course meals as she explores the minds of characters caught between the familes into which they were born and the families they choose.

This novel is short, yet full of the characteristic Tyler insights and observations. It’s not that huge meal, but more like sampling a few appetizers. Literary Tapas! Short enough to read in an afternoon.

Her writing is perfect. I urge you to read all of her work. Start with Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant or Saint Maybe.

I’m so glad I had a friend who turned me onto Tyler because she said I reminded her of the protagonist in Saint Maybe. I had to read that book to see if I too saw the resemblance. I did (it was a compliment) and from that moment I was hooked by Anne Tyler.

. . . . . . .

Nightshade by Michael Connelly (Little, Brown, $30)

Michael Connelly is my crack. I confess my addiction up front.

I’ve never met a Connelly novel that I did not immediately devour.

Connellly has so many great characters — Harry Bosch, Renee Ballard, Mickey Haller, Terry McCaleb, Jack McEvoy and others. This book introduces a new character — Stillwell, a detective who’s been exiled from downtown LA to Catalina Island.

I’ve never been to Catalina, but after Conelly’s evocative writing, I feel like a local.

Seriously: this guy’s writing is intoxicasting as a drug.

Light up! Enjoy, before his novels are designated controlled substances by the DEA.

. . . . . . .

Fever Beach by Carl Hiaasen (Knopf, $30)

Carl Hiaasen‘s books are propelled by rage humor. He’s so angry at injustice that he can only channel his operatic temper through vicious comedy.

How many authors — after 30 years of writing novels — are still peaking? Hiaasen’s last novel, Squeeze Me, was his masterpiece. Fever Beach is a suitable follow up.

The world sucks and it’s being run by assholes. You will enjoy his rage against the machine.

And by the way, you will not find a word out of place. This man is an immaculate storyteller.

. . . . . . .

Not by Type by E Jean Carroll (St. Martin’s, $30)

E Jean Carroll reached out to me in the early 1990s after I’d published my first book on Hunter S. Thompson and she was working on hers.

We crossed paths online again years later when my BU administrator turned out to be E Jean’s former PA.

E Jean is an Indiana University graduate. And … a cheerleader! There’s a good chance I lusted after her when I as a high school kid in the stands and she was jumping like popcorn on the sidelines.

Not My Type is Carroll’s account of her Trump trials. It’s unsparing, brutal and quite funny at times.

And I have always liked E Jean’s humor. I now also admire her resiliance and restraint.

I’ve read a lot of Trump Porn, including excellent books by Bob Woodward and Maggie Haberman. This book is a must-read for all of you out there preparing articles of impeachment.

. . . . . . .

A Few Words in Defense of Our Country by Robert Hilburn (DaCapo Press, $34)

It’s been a Randy Newman summer here at the ol’ homestead.

What a great artist! Has there ever been a more vicious song than “Sail Away”? His songs should be used to teach American history.

Robert Hilburn gives us the blow-by-blow of Newman’s life and gives us a new appreciation of this American treasure.

Hilburn’s writing is exceptional.

Alas, I wish the publisher had a better copy editor. I was shocked by not only the copy editing but the presece of a few minor errors of fact. Minor they may be but if newspaper and book publishers paid and respected excellent copy editors, it would be an even-more-groovy world.

. . . . . .

Hold the Line by Michael Fanone (Atria Books, $28)

I’ve been interested in this guy ever since he came into mass consciousness after the January 6 attack on the nation’s capitol.

Michael Fanone has written a powerful memoir. He was defending the Capitol on January 6 and was tasered by the rioters. He suffered a heart attack and a brain injury.

The first part of the book deals with his earlier career as an undercover cop. It’s nice to see the lid lifted on policing and Fanone does not shrink from telling the bad along with the good. This part reminded me of Serpico by Peter Maas.

Fanone holds back nothing. He drops a lot of fucks and motherfuckers here and there, and does so deftly.

Some of these words are used to describe such weasels as Jim Jordan of Ohio and Lindsay Graham of the great state of South Carolina. Those guys are botches of humanity. Same goes for former House speaker Kevin McCarthy.

When you finish this book, you will want to call Fanone and ask him to run for congress.

He is a great American.

. . . . .

Never Flinch by Stephen King (Scribner, $32)

Steve, Old Boy, I enjoy your work but can you cut back on the appositives and all the off-tangent parenthetical stuff?

Minor bitches, these.

Stephen King once again gives us his wonderful protagonist, Holly Gibney, who first showed up in Mr Mercedes.

King said she was planned as a minor character who soon grasped his heart. he has confessed that he fell in love with her.

That’s understandale.

King just keeps getting better and better.

These Gibney novels are catnip. Read them in whatever order you want. The Mr Mercedes trilogy is a good place to start. Or you can start with The Outsider.

Get off your ass and read one of these books!

. . . . .

I’ve also been reading a lot of older stuff this summer.

I’ve been on a hard-boiled crime-fiction binge, reading James M. Cain, Jim Thompson and Raymond Chandler. I love the way those dudes write. I believe they can clear out all the useless stuff in our brains. Reading their books is like using a mental supposiitory.

I also read the only major work of Flannery O’Connor‘s that I’d never read — The Violent Bear it Away. I’d read her stories, her only other novel (Wise Blood) and even her prayer journal. I was surprised by the fluid nature of this narrative. It was one of those novels you inhale.

If you’ve never read any of her work, I urge you to read Flannery O’Connor. She is life-changing.