Book Report: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

I had walked past this book by Mark Haddon several times, and every time it caught my eye.
So I bought it.

This novel starts with a simple plot: 15 year-old autistic Christopher Boone discovers his neighbor's dog, a standard poodle named Wellington, has been murdered. So he sets out to discover who did it.

Christopher quickly becomes one of the most unique and fascinating characters you will meet. Haddon writes him with a rawness and matter-of-factness that could only come from years of working with autistic children. Christopher is complex but views the world in black and white, does not pity himself and does not elicit sympathy from the audience, either. Christopher knows he's different from most people but that's just the way it is. He's developed coping mechanisms and had reached a point in his life where he can be pretty comfortable. But as the story progresses, bigger problems unfold. In fact, we learn who killed Wellington half-way through the story, but at that point, it is far from over.

Haddon lets Christopher drench the story with an extremely personal first person POV (the book reads as if it is Christopher's journal) and includes tons of visual clues. There are heaps of run on sentences, footnotes, and nearly every paragraph begins with 'And'. At one point, Christopher is having a conversation at the train station that stretches over two pages in length, and each line beings with alternating 'And I said:/And he said:'. This was a bold choice by Haddon, and a noticeable one, but it seemed to fit with Christopher's character and only lended to the rhythm. Several lines are laugh-out-loud funny:

"And another good thing was that I helped Mother paint her room White With A Hint Of Wheat, except I got paint in my hair and she wanted to wash it out by rubbing shampoo on my head when I was in the bath, but I wouldn't let her, so there was paint in my hair for 5 days and then I cut it out with a pair of scissors."

This book seems to break almost all the grammatical rules I know, but Haddon is not a new writer and the story seemed to call for it. Very well handled novel, especially once you realize how badly it could have gone.
Five out of five stars and a tip of the hat to Mark Haddon.

Book Report: Almost Home

'Almost Home' by Jessica Blank took me only two days to read, because I couldn't put it down.

"Why would anyone choose to live on the streets? There is Eeyore, just twelve years old when she runs away from her privileged home, harboring a secret she's too ashamed to tell anyone. Rusty is a sensitive gay teen who winds up alone when his older boyfriend ditches him in Hollywood. Squid has gone through too many foster homes to count. There's Scabius, a delusional punk from Utah who takes the "me against the world" motto to dangerous extremes. And Critter is a heroin dealer with movie star looks and a vulnerable heart. Laura should be home studying, but she can't face another one of her mom's boyfriends. And then there's Tracy, the damaged thread that ties them all together, irrevocably changing each person's life she touches. This unlikely band of characters form their own dysfunctional family, complete with love and belonging, abuse and betrayal. Each will make their way home, wherever it may be."

This story opens out of Eeyore's view point, telling about her negligent home life and the older step-brother who molests her at night. School provides no relief--there she is criticized for maturing before the other girls. Cornered and humiliated after school one afternoon, she is picked up by Tracy, who has been hanging around in hopes of earning change. Tracy shows Eeyore what homeless life is like, how liberating it can be, but then disappears one morning leaving Eeyore to fend for herself.

Quickly, Eeyore runs into two older boys and their dog, a pit bull named Germ. She befriends Rusty and Squid and together, a new chapter is formed, this time, switching to Rusty's view point.

I enjoyed the criss-crossing of paths in this story, learning each character's back story and how they came to be in the place they were. Tracy, although the thread that ties them together, is not the main character. She vanishes and resurfaces throughout the story, sometimes to only one of the characters instead of the group.

While the character's stories are distinctly different from each other, the narrative voice remains the same. This disappointed me--I would have changed each teenager's cadence and mannerisms more than what Jessica did, but then again, I'm not as experienced as she is. Long run-on sentences and desolate adjectives compose the entire novel, lending to a sense of pain and longing and honesty. Several times I was surprised at the character's sense of clarity and self-awareness. From Critter's POV:

'It's weird, hearing what I need and knowing that it's just a lie, like wanting to be touched and having someone hit you. It still feels good even though you bleed. It's the best you can do. And sometimes it's enough: sometimes you settle, and you start to look forward to getting hit because at least someone's hand is on your face, at least there's something else touching you besides cold naked air, at least something makes your blood rise, and the tingling in your skin keeps you warm for a while. But then there are times when it turns into an insult, a mean joke that reaches into your ribs where you keep the buried shit, the shit you need, the shit you never say, and pulls it out and holds it up in front of you and everyone like dirty underwear. And everyone laughs but you can't, and you can't cry either, and you also can't stand there but they won't let you run and the hole in your ribs lets the air in and the bubble of it swells and swells until you pop.'

Most of these characters earned my sympathy, except the few who weren't really supposed to, but my favorite was Squid. Taken from a drugged-out mother and an abusive father, he'd been passed from stranger to stranger until he took his dog and left for something better. After years of being alone, Squid has no real hopes or dreams anymore, but instead, a burning desire to protect those who can't protect themselves.

'But Rusty's gone now and he didn't say where he was going. I know he's not used to being out here, and I didn't think he was the type to just leave. I've been wondering what he's gonna eat since this morning. How he'll find his way back here, no bread crumbs. And I keep trying to keep track of everything I did and said, in case I made him go away by accident. I can't stop. I lean over into Germ and listen to him snore, hoping it'll drown out all the other noise. At least Germ's not going anywhere. Nobody's gonna feed him but me.'

Twice, he physically stands up for the others, once for Rusty and once for Eeyore in a heartbreaking display of courage and compassion.

'Rusty slouches back behind my shoulder, chewing on his hand. At first Eeyore does too, and it's like there's two little groups, them on the curb and the three of us standing. I spread out my shoulders so there's room back there for Eeyore and Rusty both.'

Squid could be described as needy, although he never comes across that way to the other characters. But in his head, he talks about needing to keep people close, keeping friends close, so the sound of them downs out everything else and he has something positive to focus on.

'Eeyore's still got snot on her lip, but she doesn't say anything. Germ flops over on his side. No one talks. I lie down next to Germ, my back to them, and listen to him pant. After a second Rusty and Eeyore lie down too, first him, then her. My eyes are closed but I hear them. I keep my eyes shut, slow my breath so they'll think I'm asleep and the whole thing can be over. That noisy itchy feeling starts to creep up inside again, even though I'm not even by myself, not really. The car sounds outside layer on top of each other, building, and I brace myself for another night awake. I must be tired, though: before the noise can take over I pass out.'

There's lots to identify with in this story, and I don't know if that's pathetic on my part--after all, I'm not homeless--or a quality of Jessica's good writing. I'd recommend this book to others, and I'm surprised I found it in the bargain bin--it only printed in October. Very moving story, heartbreaking but fascinating, sure to give you something to think about.
Five out of five stars.

Book Report: A Ghost of a Chance

Not even mid-way through this book, I came up with the perfect description: tedious.

Peter Guttridge earned many high remarks about his British mystery novel: A Ghost of a Chance, one of those comparing him to Terry Prachett and Carl Hiaasen, which was a big influencing factor in buying the book. And indeed, Guttridge has a sharp wit and powerful one-liners, several of which had me chuckling. (First sentence: 'I screamed when my mobile phone rang.')

"Nick Madrid isn't exactly thrilled when his best friend in journalism-OK, his only friend in journalism-the Bitch of the Broadsheets, Bridget Frost, commissions him to spend a night in a haunted place on the Sussex Downs and live to tell the tale. Especially as living to tell the tale isn't made an urgent priority.

But Nick stumbles on a hotter story when he discovers a dead man hanging upside down from an ancient oak. Why was he killed? Is there a connection to the nearby New Age conference centre? Or to The Great Beast, the Hollywood movie about Aleister Crowley, filming down in Brighton?

New Age meets The Old Religion as Nick is bothered, bewildered but not necessarily bewitched by pagans, Satanists and a host of assorted metaphysicians. Seances, sabbats, a horse-ride from Hell and a kick-boxing zebra all come Nick's way as he obstinately tracks a treasure once in the possession of Crowley."

While obviously a master at handling enormously-casted whodunnits, I often felt very lost. Due to the nature of the protag and the plot itself, the scenery changes almost constantly and I'm left without a sense of place. Characters are introduced at a dizzying rate, but thankfully Guttridge seemed to predict that and added in prompts. The short sentences often made the narrative choppy and too simplistic for my tastes, however it worked well for action scenes:

"Going up and over was scary but quite exhilarating. Coming down on the other side was something else again. Cynthia hit the ground about a second before I did. for that second I was in airborne limbo. Then I crashed back down on to the saddle and the pain shot through my body. I never wanted to have children anyway."

I do indeed love Guttridge's humor though, and it was what kept me from giving up on the story. The characters are snarky, the situations beautifully refreshing and original--I've never (and never will again, most likely) read about a modern day chase on horseback. I'm not really one for whodunnits (something I can't and won't fault the author for), but if each story in this series is written as memorably as this one, I may one day be brave enough to have another go.

Four out of Five stars for originality and giggles.

Book Report: Bad Idea: A Novel (With Coyotes)

This is another book I could not put down, though by the end, it was almost too heavy for me--emotionally.

‘Bad Idea’ is a conglomeration between two brothers, one from Kansas City and one from Colorado Springs. This was just one of the ‘signs’ that told me I’d enjoy the story. I loved the hint of humor right in the title: Bad Idea: A novel (with coyotes). I was immediately interested. I read the blurb on the back—read about how the story was about a college-bound son on a road trip with his dad, his dad’s fiancé, and his best friend—and bought the book. It sat on my shelf for a few months because I’d left the spine facing the back and didn’t realize it was there. But once I started reading the music-artist inspired acknowledgments and attributes in the front pages, I knew I’d love it. Jeff and Todd Hafer have flare, clearly love what they do, and aren’t afraid to tell an honest story.

Griffin is the story’s protag, an 18 year old with some heavy emotional issues mostly due to his parent’s recent and ugly divorce. His view of the world is so dark and pessimistic that it rivals my own, and by the end of the first paragraph, I was hooked and loving it. I had no idea how much I would soon be able to identify with him.

The story opens with Key Life Lesson #1: "If you are going to grab an ostensibly dead coyote by the paws and attempt to drag him someplace, you should confirm the death first." While I found the incident hilarious and refreshingly original, by the end of the story I would learn its deeper meaning. Such is the way with all good fiction. Griff backtracks, describing how they head out of Kansas City, Kansas and head toward Topeka, where they will leave little brother Colby with an Aunt. There is a strong bond between the brothers, despite the harsh words Griff has lashed out with on more than one occasion. Reading his regret made me think of how cruel I was to my own brother years ago, and it made me identify that much more with the characters.

Next comes a somewhat confusing but spectacular moment on the side of the highway. Upon seeing what looks like a man having car troubles (a flat tire), the family pulls over and Griff and his best friend Cole head over to lend a hand. But a single description, ‘he was holding the tire iron like a baseball bat’ sends all alerts into hyper-drive. Cole notices but before the boys can move away, a second man jumps from behind the car and a short brawl ensues. But while Griff stands mostly stunned, Cole, with the efficiency of a Hollywood stunt man, takes out both older men. Nothing is ever made of this event, as the editor warns up front some scenes might not.

As the group travels on, Cole parts ways and eventually, Griff makes it to his own college and says goodbye to his dad and soon-to-be stepmother. He feels alone, like an outcast, with no desire to be popular or to even make friends. But a popular, older roommate prevents him from picking up old habits: vodka and pills and self-mutilation with a lighter. And here I thought this was a funny story.

I found myself wondering, close to the end, what’s the point to this story now that Griff’s at college? Wasn’t that the goal in the beginning? But I was entranced, caught in this character’s life-journey and feeling just a little spooked at how many times I could understand his pain. And I loved every word.

This story has no formal plot, nothing that could be measured through outside events or physical journeys. This is a story about healing. The climax comes in the form of a phone call from a girl Griff has loved for four years but never had the nerve to approach in a romantic way. The climax hurts, deeply, because Griff finally realizes that someone cares for him and worries for him. It stings as does alcohol in a wound—a critical part of healing.

This story does not end with sunshine and rainbows, but it ends with something even stronger: hope. After I finished, I had to put it aside and think (luckily I was some thousand feet in the air, looking down on a layer of cottony clouds—lemme tell you, there is no better place for thinking.).

This is another book I love enough to read again, and I will be just as moved then as I am now.
6 out of 5 stars

Book Report: Coiled in the Heart

'Coiled in the Heart' by Scott Elliot is a darkly quiet story that looms overhead and makes you shiver.

"Tobias Caldwell lives in a world balanced by the scales of grandeur and decay. The southern plantation he calls home has been the pride of the Caldwells since their settling there in the nineteenth century. As a boy, Tobias knew every crevice of the landscape, but he favored the creek to be his very own. By the time Tobias reached the age of seven, his father had begun to parcel off the land to new housing subdivisions, and the magical creek no longer belonged to Tobias alone. Soon they had neighbors, and Tobias was dispatched to meet a boy who was just his age. What Tobias encountered was an unruly, mean-spirited boy named Ben Wilson and his twin sister, Merritt. Ben's relentless cruelty brings malice into Tobias' good-natured heart, and he leads Ben to the creek, where the tree roots snarl and the cottonmouth snake coils itself for camouflage. Elliot's debut builds a magnetic love story between Tobias and Merritt that is heady with yearning and laden with guilt for the truths left untold."

The remainder of the story, chronicling Tobia's movement into adulthood and his developing affection for Merritt, bounces between present time and past. Lots of subtleties lend to a subconscious feeling of danger and evil, and the theme of the serpent remains strong throughout. Without purple prose, Elliot deftly portrays southern scenery that leaves lasting images in the reader's mind--a rare and conspicuous talent.

This story starts with an interesting, promising set-up but quickly becomes about human relationships and emotion. It is the quietness of this story that kept me reading, the details so fine they were simply there and real:

"I walk across the back porch, let the screen door clap clap clap shut behind me, and move out across the grass toward one of the houses Bank and his crew are in the process of dismantling. It stands before me, an enemy soldier, its wounds strangely enhanced by the moonlight and the cool air.
Inside this demi-house I take up a sledgehammer one of the workmen has left behind. I feel its weight in my hand and carry it upstairs and let it throw me into a blind spin. I spin counterclockwise. Sledgehammer extended, I let the weight spin me through the house until the sledgehammer finds a wall or a window or until I'm too tired to continue.
Glass shatters. Sledgehammer on brick makes a dull thud. Bricks chip, dent, crack. Tiny white sparks appear to enjoy their split seconds of life in the cool air. Drywall explodes chalky white. Boards splinter, break, or hold fast to stop my spinning."

Place and character have come together in 'Coiled in the Heart', creating a haunting story that will speak in whispers for a long time to come.

Four out of five stars.