SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES

Confession: I hadn’t read anything by Ray Bradbury, Pasadena’s most famous author, not even Fahrenheit 451 (I started it once and then got distracted and moved to something else). I KNOW. So I was excited to read this one, which sounded perfect for Halloweentime (demonic carnival!). But…I was a little disappointed. It’s poetically written, but at times almost too much so; it seemed opaque or strangely abstract and wasn’t as scary as I’d expected. Maybe that’s the fault of my own expectations (I get that it’s more a coming-of-age story than a horror tale), but it paled in comparison to Shirley Jackson.

I AM THE CHEESE

I never read this classic or any other Robert Cormier when I was young, so I’m glad this got picked for my book club. Though the OMG-it-turns-out-my-family’s-in-witness-protection narrative is a bit played out now, it probably wasn’t at the time, and the real twist of the book was ingenious and probably would have blown my mind at age 12. Not lovable, but well-written and quite chilling.

A WALK IN THE WOODS

I was years late to the party on this one, mostly because I couldn’t get it from the library on audiobook, which is how I’ve been enjoying the rest of my Bill Bryson. It was as enjoyable as promised, and has effectively disabused me of any fantasies I had of hiking the Appalachian Trail.

CARNEY’S HOUSE PARTY

The only Deep Valley book I was never able to obtain until HarperCollins’s recent (and very handsome) rerelease. I always liked Carney, with her ambition of going to Vassar, and this one gives us some vintage women’s-college atmosphere (“Winkie took charge of the rarebit and Peg toasted crackers over the gas light. ‘Who’s going to make the cocoa?’ she called. ‘Not me,’ said Win, who was tuning her ukulele.”) while also giving us a glimpse of Betsy and the rest of the Crowd in the “lost years” between Betsy and Joe and Betsy and the Great World. A new favorite.

TATTOOS ON THE HEART: THE POWER OF BOUNDLESS COMPASSION

I went to hear Father Gregory Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, speak at a local bookstore and he was astoundingly awesome. I bought a copy of his book and got it signed for A’s mom’s birthday, but couldn’t resist giving it a quick read before sending it off. Less a memoir than a loose collection of homilies and anecdotes, it’s profoundly inspiring, but I gotta say, it pales in comparison to seeing Father Greg in person. If you ever have the chance, do so (and while you’re at it, visit Homegirl Café—they catered the reading, and the food was delicious).

ICE: GREAT MOMENTS IN THE HISTORY OF COLD, HARD WATER

I’ve counted University of Minnesota art/American studies professor Karal Ann Marling among my favorite nonfiction writers (along with Susan Orlean and Mary Roach) because of her ability to balance substance with wit and fun, but her most recent book left me—sorry, just can’t resist—rather cold. It was enjoyable enough, especially during a 100-degree heat wave, and presented some interesting factoids, but it seemed a bit thin in some places and scattershot in others.

HALF BAKED

I can never resist books based on the blogs I follow. If you haven’t read Flotsam, I recommend doing so, but even if you’re not a blog fan, this memoir is worth checking out. Alexa Stevenson’s story (subtitled The Story of My Nerves, My Newborn, and How We Both Learned to Breathe) is amazing and her sense of humor irresistible—plus, she’s from Minnesota! Books about childbearing aren’t my number-one interest, but as a fellow worrier, I loved how Stevenson framed her tale as a meditation on anxiety, and I did a lot of head-nodding over passages like this one:

The mistake I made—and would keep making, over and over—was in believing that my apprehension had a protective quality; that preparing for the worst would arm me against misfortune. Regrettably, the disaster you expect is seldom the one visited upon you.

MAPP AND LUCIA

In this, the fourth book in E.F. Benson’s delightful 1920s/30s Mapp and Lucia series, the respective heroines of the previous three books face off. Forget comedies of manners—this is a cage match of manners, as Lucia, having thoroughly conquered Riseholme, moves into Miss Mapp’s turf in Tilling (with the faithful Georgie in tow, thank goodness), and all-out social war ensues. Fun from beginning to end.