Book Reviews by a Chick Who Reads Everything
I read every kind of book from the absolute serious to the downright silly.
Hi Everybody!
I launched the Adapt Me Podcast this week! It’s available on Spotify and Amazon Music as of now. It’ll be on more in the coming future. I plan on releasing episodes on a monthly basis.
If you want to be a guest, feel free to email me here!
Full disclosure: I was given a free advance reader copy of this book by Author Marketing Experts in exchange for an honest review.
Although domestic violence is a sensitive topic, it has attracted a lot of curiosity. People have seen it in some form, so they have an idea what it entails. However, domestic abuse is more complicated than what they think. Michael Clark strives to unearth such complexities with his book The Truth About You: You’ll Never View Domestic Violence the Same Way Again. Even though it can be one-sided and over simplified at times, the book still fulfills its objective of providing a more nuanced view on the delicate subject.
The Truth About You: You’ll Never View Domestic Violence the Same Way Again is about one woman realizing what abusive relationships truly look like. When Lucy and Meg’s mom Paula is assaulted by her husband, stepfather Greg, his arrest seems to end a nightmare. However, when their mother chooses to stay with him, the sisters find themselves in a disturbing moral dilemma. Desperate to protect her, they secretly install hidden cameras to capture the truth for themselves and the rest of the world. What unfolds isn’t what Lucy expected. As she grapples with conflicting narratives of abuse, loyalty, and manipulation, she’s forced to question not only her mom and stepdad’s roles in this abusive relationship, but also the whole framework of judgment, justice, and victimhood.
Before I get into this review, I want to provide some background information. Author Michael Clark is the founder and Executive Director of the Ananias Foundation. It’s a nonprofit organization committed to ending domestic violence at its root by working with those who have caused harm. Clark himself was a former domestic violence offender, who went through rehabilitation to become a safe and emotionally healthy partner. He wrote about his struggles and transformation in his memoir From Villain to Hero.
Given this context, it makes sense that Clark would portray Greg more sympathetically than other authors. In fact, Greg is provided with a backstory involving his single mother and an assortment of emotional issues. Initially, he resists doing the program that’s supposed to help him, but overtime, he learns a lot of things that he relays to stepdaughter and protagonist Lucy. In the beginning, I wanted to hate him, but later, I empathized with him in a way, and he actually expresses regret for his actions. I kind of wish this book was from Greg’s perspective. Not that I don’t think Lucy is an interesting character, it’s more that I find his story fascinating. However, he’s likely a self-insert since Clark already wrote his tale of a reformed abuser in the memoir I described above.
With that being said, I found The Truth About You to be one-sided and over simplified at various points. This is especially true with Meg and the domestic violence organization she’s a part of. They promote the view that abuse is gender-based with women always being the victims and men the abusers. I get Clark wanted to include this to highlight common assumptions about domestic violence, but it comes off as shallower than intended. This is apparent when the group spells out their intentions like an evil scientist announcing his plans to take over the world and when Brenna – one of the organizers – force feeds lines to Paula at a rally. It doesn’t help that Meg drank a lot of that Kool-Aid when she and Lucy watched the videos of Paula and Greg’s interactions.
On the other hand, it does achieve its goal of changing how readers look at the topic overall. For starters, it shows what an abuser goes through during the aftermath. Even when they repent, others will still define them by their past infractions, which makes their lives much harder. This is evident of what Greg goes through in the book although I wish it included more of the reality of some abusers getting off scot-free and never expressing regret. In addition, the book is effective in demonstrating that the line between a victim and a victimizer can be blurred. Even though Paula gets physically attacked by Greg, there were several incidents that would’ve marked her as an abuser.
Lucy is a good audience stand-in. She learns from the videos and Greg of what domestic violence actually looks like. Even though she is a bit bland, it was nice to see her grow from being naive and a pushover to standing up for herself and seeing the misinformation that her sister and the domestic abuse organization espouse. She reminded me of my life at times. In addition, I love how Clark included a romantic interest for her with Brett – the trainer who helps her dog Oreo. They are so cute together, and I hope that she applies what she’s learned in this story to maintaining a healthy relationship with him.
The Truth About You: You’ll Never View Domestic Violence the Same Way Again by Michael Clark is a good story for anyone curious to know more about the topic. It can be shallow and biased at times, but it provides plenty of nuance in other places. While it didn’t completely change how I view domestic violence, it reaffirmed and fleshed out certain aspects, especially when it comes to abusers who want to atone for their actions. I would recommend this to readers who love dark literary fiction and contemporary women’s drama as well as those who crave psychological insight and stories that challenge assumptions. Domestic abuse will always be a subject of interest despite how sensitive it can be, and while this book is not perfect, it’s a good starting point.
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Full disclosure: I was given a free advance reader copy of this book by Books Forward in exchange for an honest review.
I’ve read tons of historical fiction novels set during World War II. Most of them usually take place in Europe and Asia. However, Allied and Axis bases were also in North Africa, and wars were fought there as well, especially for control of the Suez Control. Not many novels cover that aspect of the conflict. Luckily, today’s book, Massawa: A Tale of Illusion, Espionage, and Love by Pam Webber, does. It’s a good story with a memorable setting and interesting characters.
Massawa: A Tale of Illusion, Espionage, and Love is the first in a series about novice female American spies in North Africa and the Mediterranean that changed the tide during World War II. In 1942, Wild Bill Donovan, the director of the United States’ first spy agency, believes that women were the key to winning the intelligence battles against the Nazis. To prove his point, he pairs fledging agent Kit Thomas with British MI6 agent Mark Williams and sends them to one of the most dangerous places in the world – Massawa, Eritrea – to investigate the theft of millions of military payroll dollars. While there, Kit and Mark discover a conspiracy by the Vichy French – Nazi sympathizers – to shut down the only Allied naval base on the Red Sea, an essential resource in stopping the Nazi invasion of North Africa. As they work to reveal the conspirators, Kit and Mark engage in a perilous and tempestuous dance of trust versus mistrust.
Normally, I follow the rule of not judging a book by its cover. However, the one for Massawa doesn’t scream spies and espionage. The picture looks like it could’ve been a part of a commercial for an adult contemporary love song CD compilation with On the Wings of Love by Jeffrey Osborne playing in the background. I even showed it to my husband, and he said it resembled a romance novel. He’s not wrong, for there is romance. Fortunately, the cover is referenced in the story. One character mentions that ancient Massawans believed a mirage was “a gift from the gods to be able to live near the union of sun, sand, and sea – to thrive in a place where illusion and the environment protected them from their enemies” (p. 269).
In other words, the cover makes more sense when one reads the book. At the same time, it could’ve been more effective if it added a woman in uniform looking outwards, like the ones in Kate Quinn books, to emphasize the espionage work.
Once I actually started reading Massawa, I enjoyed it. I love the setting. I could imagine the desert and the colorful buildings as well as feel the heat. This certainly demonstrates how the city is a character in itself. It was funny when various people complained about the heat or spoke about the need of air conditioning in the story for that reason.
While the characters are well developed, the story mainly focuses on Kit. She is a strong, confident woman who’s determined to prove herself to her peers and perceived enemies. And, she gets to do some physical stuff as well. At the same time, Webber doesn’t make her one note. Kit gets into spats with Mrs. Higgins – the British secretary in the city who’s mad at the Americans for not doing enough. Additionally, her confidence gets a reality check when a man points out all the techniques she used to seduce him to get information. She remains insecure even when the same person congratulates her for fooling him in other ways. Moreover, she has romantic feelings for her supervisor Jake and her coworker Mark, but she wants to concentrate on her work and tries not to let love distract her. It’s refreshing to see a female character who is skilled, but flawed.
Some readers might complain about how much this novel is a slow burn, especially if they want more action. It certainly felt sluggish at times. This was apparent when Kit discovers something and then tells certain characters everything about what she saw…literally. I understand that Webber probably wanted to let readers know what was going on. However, it feels similar to how Netflix wants its writers to make it super clear of what was happening in their shows because they knew viewers weren’t always paying attention. I’m not saying any reader who picks up this book will not understand the plot and its mechanics. It’s that Webber simply needed to pick up the pace by trimming down the details. Thankfully, the third act was swift.
Massawa: A Tale of Illusion, Espionage, and Love by Pam Webber is a good historical fiction novel about a little-known World War II story. The setting and characters were engaging, yet there were issues with the cover and pacing. I would recommend it for those who love stories about World War II, espionage, and strong female characters. Massawa: A Tale of Illusion, Espionage, and Love is out now, so grab it wherever you get your books.
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Hi Everybody,
Howl like a wolf because the latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast is up right now. In it, returning guest Jaylan Salah from The JayDays YouTube Channel and I discuss how we would adapt Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Women Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés as an immerse theatrical production. We talk about how this kind of medium could truly capture the authentic and intuitive nature of the book. We also discuss how the nonfiction book changed our lives and has influence feminist circles since 1992. Check it out at this link!
In the meantime, I have a review of the book itself, so check that out too!
Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates. Also feel free to email me here for any review suggestions, ideas, or new titles!
I’ve come across plenty of self-help books over the years, but I’ve rarely read ones that are geared towards women. The only one I can think of is Forget the Fairy Tale and Find Your Happiness by Deb Miller, which covers how the author forged her own fairy tale and happily ever after. Recently, I found a different kind of female empowerment book with Women Who Run with the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Women Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, which was published back in 1992. It’s a powerful nonfiction title about how women can get in touch with their inner Wild Woman through the power of stories.
Normally, I would provide my own summary, but the one from Goodreads is so good that I had to provide it here:
“Within every woman there lives a powerful force, filled with good instincts, passionate creativity, and ageless knowing. She is the Wild Woman, who represents the instinctual nature of women. But she is an endangered species. For though the gifts of wildish nature belong to us at birth, society’s attempt to ‘civilize’ us into rigid roles has muffled the deep, life-giving messages of our own souls.
In Women Who Run with the Wolves, Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés unfolds rich intercultural myths, fairy tales, folk tales, and stories, many from her own traditions, in order to help women reconnect with the fierce, healthy, visionary attributes of this instinctual nature. Through the stories and commentaries in this remarkable book, we retrieve, examine, love, and understand the Wild Woman, and hold her against our deep psyches as one who is both magic and medicine.
Dr. Estés has created a new lexicon for describing the female psyche. Fertile and life-giving, it is a psychology of women in the truest sense, a knowing of the soul.”
I never knew about this book until a friend of mine recommended it. Even a volunteer who’s about 10 years younger than me was aware of this title. I can see why it has stood the test of time. It speaks to the soul of women and encourages them to embrace the kind of person that they truly want to be regardless of what society dictates. And, what better way to do that is through the power of stories.
Pinkola Estés chooses familiar and obscure fairy and folk tales to get her points across. She analyses stories like The Ugly Duckling (translated from the Hungarian language) to let women know that they’ll find their own family who accepts them as they are, The Red Shoes (from the Hungarian-Germanic version) about self-preservation, and La Llorona for the importance of nourishing one’s creative life. In addition, she utilizes the dark, and sometimes, violent versions of these stories to add to the authenticity as well as ones from all over the world, and not just from Europe.
My favorite chapters involved knowing how to identify a predator (the French-Slavic version of Bluebeard); utilizing intuition (Vasalisa the Wise); retrieving sexuality, as in being a state “of intense sensory awareness that includes, but is not limited to, her sexuality” (p. 334) (The Dirty Goddesses); and setting boundaries with rage and forgiveness (The Crescent Moon Bear from Japan and The Withered Trees from the Middle East). I especially love the last one because I’ve had trouble defining those lines, and Pinkola Estés does a great job with letting readers know that anger will always exist, justified or not, and it’s a matter of when to use it. Additionally, I have even started employing her advice in my everyday life. After reading about returning home with Sealskin, Soulskin, I literally spent a few hours in my childhood house, and it was refreshing.
If I have one complaint about it, it would be that it could’ve been trimmed down. With the bibliography and index, it’s over 500 pages. Without them, it’s still over 400, and I felt it. Pinkola Estés left no stone unturned when analyzing every aspect of the stories chosen for this book. However, she can be repetitive and the ways she dissects the tales are sometimes stretched out. Reading this book has made me understand how some things can be analyzed to death. At the same time, when it works, it’s truly effective.
Women Who Run with the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Women Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés is a great analysis of that character type. She shows women how they can get in touch with their inner Wild Woman through the meaningful stories she recites. While it can be overanalyzed at times, it’s certainly empowering for female readers whether they need it the most, or are simply curious. I would recommend it for those who like reading about character and story archetypes ala Joseph Campbell. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got to go sing “She Wolf” by Shakira and howl because that’s what my inner voice is telling me to do.
Before I go, I want to let everyone know that the latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast will come out this week. Returning guest and host of the JayDays YouTube Channel Jaylan Saylah and I will howl about how we would adapt this tome. Keep an eye out for the link.
Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates. Also feel free to email me here for any review suggestions, ideas, or new titles!
After last week’s review of what’s probably the most disturbing adaptation of Wuthering Heights, I needed something soft, cozy, and silly. I managed to get this with Paddington – the iconic bear from the series of the same name. Since one of his birthdays is coming up on June 25, let’s look at the character and his adventures in the book that started it all – 1958’s A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond.
A Bear Called Paddington is Paddington’s origin story and then some. A little bear has just traveled from Peru when the Brown family first meet him at Paddington Station. Taken in by his charm and manners, the Browns decide to bring him home and make him a member of the family. The bear, now named Paddington, gets into plenty of shenanigans while adapting into his new environment. Since then, the Browns’ lives have never been quite the same, for ordinary things become extraordinary whenever Paddington is involved.
Growing up, I didn’t read a whole lot of books. I was more of a movie and television kid. However, if I had read Paddington when I was young, I would’ve loved it to the end of time. The bear is cute, kind, and means well when he accidentally gets himself into trouble. Regardless of what happens, the Browns accept and care for him. They don’t even question why he’s able to talk in general. Of course, they make sure that he understands certain things and that they accident proof the house, but they love him just the same.
In addition, It was fun to read the kinds of scenarios that Paddington found himself in. My favorites in A Bear Called Paddington were when he goes shopping, to the theatre, and to the beach. The book consists of eight chapters, and they follow a pattern: Paddington goes to a place and accidentally gets lost or misunderstands something and tries to do it himself. He then finds himself in trouble, but everything is straightened out in the end. Most of them could’ve been individual short stories because there isn’t much of a plot in A Bear Called Paddington. Outside of the Browns finding the bear at the Paddington Station and certain members accepting him, the book is literally a series of episodes that could’ve been written for television (yes, I’m aware of the fact that Paddington had several tv shows). Regardless, it was still fun to see how he dealt with certain situations.
While reading this book, I noticed how British it is. It’s not just in using certain words like lift (elevator) or spade (shovel), but it’s in the humor like the focus on the little things. For example, when Mrs. Bird – the Browns’ live-in housekeeper – first meets Paddington, she is skeptical, but she mentions that he has good manners, so she’s ok with a bear living with them. This comes full circle in the beach episode. When Paddington is lost at sea, the family try to search for him, and Mrs. Bird says that she couldn’t imagine the house without him. Additionally, British humor tends to focus on navigating the chaos as opposed to causing it, A Bear Called Paddington is full of that. Since he arrives in London from Peru, he’s unfamiliar with the territory and social customs. Much of the comedy comes from how he attempts to understand new things, like going shopping or taking a bath.
While A Bear Called Paddington and the other books in the series are marketed towards children, it can still be read by adults. There’s clever wordplay, and a cast of colorful characters that people might recognize in real life. Readers will certainly know someone who’s like the friendly and caring Mr. Gruber or the nosy and critical Mr. Curry. For the children, the reading level is geared towards anyone over the age of 8, but parents can easily read it to younger kids. There are small, pencil illustrations, created by Peggy Fortnum, of Paddington in various situations, but if kids want more visuals, there are picture books of his adventures. One way or another, people of all ages can enjoy reading about the marmalade-loving bear.
It’s easy to see why A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond and the series it spawned are beloved. The titular character is memorable in his manners and how he finds himself in unfamiliar places. In addition, while it’s predictable to a degree, I found myself invested in what he or the Browns were going to do. As I alluded to earlier, I would recommend it to any reader of any age, whether it’s the first or the one hundredth time. Paddington has been around for nearly 70 years, so here’s another 70!
Stay tuned when I review Paddington’s first movie – 2015’s Paddington in December.
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Content warning: this review mentions animal abuse and sexual assault.
Welcome to Part 8 of looking at various adaptations of Wuthering Heights and seeing if they can capture the spirit of the book by Emily Brontë. Today, I’ll be looking at the 1998 movie made by Masterpiece Theatre starring Robert Cavanah as Heathcliff and Matthew MacFayden as Hareton.
As I got more into the post-Kate Bush Wuthering Heights adaptations, it’s clear that each one of them wants to be as faithful and transgressive as possible. So far, this version takes the cake for both. Not only does it contain the second half of the book, but it also has almost every scene, including ones that weren’t in the prior adaptations. The most infamous being when Heathcliff tries to hang Isabella’s dog. I was nervous about that since anytime she was on screen prior, she was carrying her little black dog. Luckily, the film provides a happier ending to that scene than in the novel.
I honestly didn’t expect how far Masterpiece Theatre would go to show the wickedness of the novel, but wow, it went there. It includes a scene in which Heathcliff rapes Isabella soon after they get married. In previous adaptations, he’s always a brute to her, but I never would’ve expected that one would take it up a notch, especially from Masterpiece Theatre, which is funded by viewers like you. Thank you. The 2002 Goodbye, Mr. Chips movie through Masterpiece Theatre also had plenty of realism, but it wasn’t to the level of this version of Wuthering Heights. It was very unsettling. It didn’t help that director David Skynner decided to juxtapose that sequence with Catherine getting hair cut to reduce the swelling in her brain from her fever. Although I don’t know if I want to see this film again, I will give it props for including such a disturbing scene.
The rest of the movie is decent. I like how it taps into the best parts of the 1970 and 1992 flicks. It contains the scene in which Heathcliff chases ghost Catherine all across the Moors, which is a nice homage to the former. In addition, it emulates the 1992 movie with its gothic horror tone, supernatural elements, and its volatile Heathcliff.
On the other hand, there were a couple of parts which were baffling. For starters, the story starts when Heathcliff flashes back to his youth as opposed to Nelly telling Mr. Lockwood about it. This is like the 1950 teleplay, and just like that one, this change makes Mr. Lockwood and Nelly pointless to some degree. Also, in the beginning, when young Catherine and Heathcliff are playing outside, she sees an older Heathcliff. Then later, when he’s dying, he flashes back to that time. How was he able to teleport himself through space and time? I mean, he has the ability to put people in purgatory by damning their souls, but that could’ve been explained better.
My main complaint is the rape scene is so overpowering that it overshadows everything else in the film. It’s not to say the movie is bad. Not much of it is as memorable as the sequence mentioned earlier.
The performances are mostly good. Robert Cavanah is Heathcliff. Let’s get it out of the way now: he’s another white man playing a racially ambiguous character. Even with bronzer on, that still doesn’t change the fact that he’s a white man. As for his performance, he’s the most volatile Heathcliff I’ve seen. He forcibly kisses Catherine, and I already mentioned what he does to Isabella. It doesn’t help that he looks like a tan Bob Geldof during the first half. I still prefer Ralph Fiennes’s interpretation of the character because of how dynamic it was, but this one is still serviceable. Orla Brady is Catherine. She does a good job with tapping into the character’s volatile moods, especially when she calls Hindley a tyrant and acts like a stubborn child during the key scene. The best performance comes from Matthew MacFayden, who portrays Hareton – Hindley’s son. From the moment I saw him, I felt the character’s sadness, torment, and determination with little to no dialogue. Also, he gets to play with a puppy. MacFayden would go on to portray Mr. Darcy in the 2005 film version of Pride and Prejudice.
The Wuthering Heights 1998 television movie is fine. It’s the most faithful version I’ve seen so far in how true it is to the text, and it captures the disturbing elements of the story. I’m truly amazed by how PBS greenlit this one, but I don’t know if I will ever return to it because of how unsettling it is (even with Matthew MacFayden in it). I would recommend it to those who are actively watching every adaptation of Wuthering Heights and/or want to see a more loyal adaptation of the story. We’ll see how the other ones fare as we move into the 21st century.
Now, let’s see how this one fits into the ranking.
We’ll see how this ranking evolves after I see all the others.
Stay tuned next month when I review the 2009 mini-series with Tom Hardy and Charlotte Riley.
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There have been plenty of books that I’ve read that I could relate to. One that comes to mind is Big Love by Bari Beckett. However, I don’t think I’ve connected to a novel as hard as I did with Sisters by Raina Telgemeier. It’s a great story about two sisters trying to get along, and it also contains some great illustrations.
Sisters is a graphic novel based on the author’s relationship with her own sister. When Raina was little, she couldn’t wait to have a sibling. But once her sister Amara comes into the picture, things don’t get off to a great start. Amara is cute, yet she is grouchy, throws temper tantrums at times, and prefers to play by herself. Their relationship doesn’t improve much over the years, but when a baby brother arrives and later, when something feels off with their parents, they realize that they must figure out how to get along. This story unfolds over a three-week period during a road trip from San Francisco to a family reunion in Colorado.
It’s the second in the “Smile” series, which is based on Telgemeier’s own life while growing up. The first in that series is Smile. Reading Sisters makes me want to read Smile at some point because the former is fantastic!
I love the story. The relationship between Raina and Amara feels 100% real with all of its ups and downs. To be fair, I may be biased in this since I had a similar one with my older sister when we were growing up. Though the book is told through Raina’s perspective, it shows both sides of the coin when it comes to her and Amara getting along. When Raina offers to do stuff together with her younger sister like drawing and dancing to music, the latter flat out refuses and throws temper tantrums. At the same time, once Amara becomes interested in drawing animals and going to the zoo, the older sister doesn’t seem to care as much, for she tunes out the world with her walkman.
There are times that they do effectively bond. This happens with the most inconsequential things like making fun of Colorado’s state nickname. It also occurs with more important stuff like wondering if their parents will divorce because it’s becoming apparent that they’re not getting along. It felt very genuine. This all leads up to a heart-to-heart conversation towards the end, where Amara calls out Raina for shutting out the world around her. Afterwards, Raina decides to not wear her walkman headphones on the way back to California. This shows a step towards mending the relationship, instead of being fully resolved. I appreciate this open ending.
The other strong point of this graphic novel is the illustrations with the color by Braden Lamb. It goes into flashbacks frequently, and this is represented through sepia tone. I also enjoyed seeing the facial expressions of various characters. It often relies on big emotions because it’s told from a preteen’s viewpoint. For example, when Raina asks Amara what she’s drawing, the latter gives the biggest glare I’ve ever seen in a graphic novel. It helps that the word “glare” is present on that panel for those who have trouble reading facial expressions. Another instance of this is whenever snakes are shown or mentioned in conversation. Raina’s eyes are always big and rarely the same size as she loathes that reptile because she stepped on a dead one when she was 4 years old. When it comes to more serious moments, the facial expressions become less exaggerated to fit the tone. These are obvious in scenes like when the dad tells the family that he’s been laid off and when the sisters discuss their parents.
Sisters by Raina Telgemeier is a great graphic novel that anyone with siblings can relate to. It contains a story with lots of depth and fantastic illustrations. I would recommend it to those who love graphic novels, anything by Raina Telgemeier, and have siblings even if they are adults. I’m going to have a hard time finding a book that I can relate to more than Sisters.
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Hi Everybody,
The latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast is up right now. In it, guest Marc Bonani from the Broadway by Ghostlight YouTube Channel and I discuss how we would adapt Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical Follies by Ted Chapin as an anthology miniseries ala Fosse/Verdon. We talk about how the book pulls back the curtain on the beloved musical’s creation in real time in the 1970s. We also discuss how theatre is the most collaborative art form and gush about current Broadway shows just in time for this year’s Tony Awards. Check it out at this link!
In the meantime, I have a review of the book itself, so check that out too!
Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates. Also feel free to email me here for any review suggestions, ideas, or new titles!
Full disclosure: I was given a free advance reader copy of this book by Author Marketing Experts in exchange for an honest review.
Content warning: this review discusses sex and death-related trauma.
Letting go of the past can be hard for many people. One wants to hold onto it even if the future is big and bright. The main character in today’s novel, The Next Breath by Laurel Osterkamp, deals with that in a highly dramatic way. It’s a good book that tackles grief with realistic characters, while involving theater and educating readers about cystic fibrosis.
The Next Breath is about a woman who goes on a journey to let go of her past boyfriend in order to embrace her new romance. Ten years ago, Robin found true love with Jed, but soon, she lost him. But when Nick enters her life, she starts to believe in second chances. However, she’s reluctant to release her love for Jed. It doesn’t help that she agreed to star in a play that he wrote for her before his death. Robin must reconcile with old wounds and long-buried emotions. As Jed’s ghost lingers in her dreams, she must navigate heartbreak, loss, and her fear of moving on. Can she find the strength to leave Jed in the past and embrace a future filled with hope and love?
I enjoyed the environment. I knew I was going to like this book because of the theatre aspect, but Osterkamp describes the past and present settings in great detail. I could easily imagine the campus Robin was on while she dated Jed, along with the theatre where she performs the play. Osterkamp gives realistic touches to the environment, like the bit with the sex room at the Open House that Nick runs as a real estate agent.
I didn’t know much about cystic fibrosis before reading this book. In the story, Jed had that specific lung disease. I learned a lot about it through the flashbacks when Robin and Jed interact. This includes him teaching her how to pat his back, which helps dislodge mucus from his lungs, as well as him receiving a new lung through a transplant and the complications that follow. While Jed was not a perfect person, I still felt for him due to his circumstances.
The biggest strength of this novel is the realistic characters. Robin has fallen in love with Nick, but she has a hard time moving on from her first love because of how Jed made her feel during their brief relationship and the matter of his death. This led to her burying her emotions and getting stuck in a limbo. While Robin is kind and creative, she can also be competitive to a fault. Nick even calls her “Rocky” due to her drive and determination. This is exemplified with scenes of her trying to outrun a runner she calls “Flashdance Girl.”
The author also portrays Nick and Jed realistically. The former is a guy that any woman would dream of for a perfect boyfriend. He’s nice, caring, and encouraging. However, he has his past trauma through the loss of one of his parents and had to raise his younger sister. Additionally, although he loves Robin, he refuses to be compared to a dead guy. I was rooting for them since they are cute and feel authentic.
Through the flashbacks, readers get to know Jed. At first, I wasn’t keen on him since he was a player. However, once I got to know him and his ailment, I warmed up to him, for he seemed to really care about Robin. He may come off as sarcastic and one who wants to live fast, yet he wants nothing but the best for her, and not to worry about him when he dies. In addition, it helps that Catherine – the college’s theatre director and Jed’s mom – is a wonderful character. She and Robin bond after the latter starts dating Jed, and I could feel the love and respect between them, especially in how they maintain a connection years after his death. Since Robin’s mom died when she was young, she sees Catherine as the mother figure she needed in her life.
Moreover, I adore the dream sequences that Robin has at the beginning of several chapters. They give a theatrical touch and reflect what she’s going through without making it too obvious. For example, in one dream, she’s encouraging Jed to drive safe. This happens another time, so for a brief bit, I was convinced that he died in a car accident.
The Next Breath by Laurel Osterkamp is a good romance book that deals with the art of letting go. The main characters are well-written and have their own personal conflicts. It also helps that there are great descriptions of the locations used in this novel and that readers get to learn about cystic fibrosis. To quote The Page Ladies Book Club on Goodreads, I would recommend it to readers who want stories that involve, “love after loss; theatre; second chances; healing arcs, and thoughtful, emotional writing with a touch of hope.” The Next Breath is out now, so grab it wherever you get your books.
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I love musical theatre. I’ve adored musicals since I was little while watching Disney and old Hollywood films. I get excited seeing people sing and dance, whether it’s on Broadway or at the local theatre. It’s also fascinating to learn about how a show comes together, especially how a creative team decides on certain elements and how the actors get along. One of the best books on the making of a musical is Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical Follies by Ted Chapin. It does a great job with demonstrating how a Broadway show was created and mounted in the early 1970s, and it’s a wonderful read even if one is unfamiliar with the specific musical.
Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical Follies is about the making of the musical Follies. In 1971, college student Ted Chapin found himself as a production assistant at the creation of one of the greatest musicals, Follies. Needing college credit to graduate on time, he kept a journal detailing every aspect that he saw and heard while the musical was actually being developed. Years later, Ted decided to fashion his notes into a chronicle. Follies was made by composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim, producer and director Hal Prince, choreographer Michael Bennett, and book writer James Goldman. These men were giants in the evolution of Broadway and geniuses at the top of their game. Everything Was Possible takes readers on a roller-coaster ride from the uncertainties like casting, drama-filled rehearsals, the care and feeding of one-time movie and television stars, the pressures of a Boston tryout, and the exhilaration of opening night on Broadway.
Stephen Sondheim is one of the greatest Broadway composers ever. I’m familiar with his work, for I’ve seen productions of his shows like West Side Story, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Company, and Sweeney Todd. I even was in Into the Woods at my high school. Prior to reading this book, I didn’t know a whole lot about Follies – the show Sondheim put on Broadway in 1971 – outside of some songs like “Buddy’s Blues” and its most famous tune, “I’m Still Here.” I listened to its famously truncated original Broadway cast recording to get a better gist of the musical.
While knowing what Follies is helps, the book also focuses on what goes into making a musical. Chapin explains every aspect in a way that anybody can understand. For example, I loved the way he described a technical rehearsal and how vital it is to the show. He was the production assistant aka the gofer. His job was to do what the creative team and actors asked of him. The main one was to type up script and lyrics changes and make carbon copies. Since this was before computers, this took a long time. Along with that, he wrote in his journal of what unfolded on a daily basis. That’s why the chronicle contains so many miniscule details. Some readers might feel the need to skip these parts. I don’t blame them. At the same time, I like a lot of detail, so it was cool to see what was going on minute by minute.
Although Chapin acknowledges that he has his biases (including of certain actors and songs as well as the overall musical), he’s still able to see the forest beyond the trees. To get the bigger picture, he interviewed people who were a part of the show like Prince and Sondheim years after the fact. He also provides both black-and-white and color pictures of rehearsals, performances, magazine covers, and the famous poster to illustrate what he describes in the text. This is truly one of the most objective books I’ve ever read because of the care the author puts in to cover all aspects of the creative process.
The best part was learning about everything that unfolded. The process was full of ups and downs. Members of the creative team clashed with one another on certain story beats, and some actors were jealous that others received more attention than they did. However, these never led to cat fights (sorry for those readers who wanted that). In addition, Chapin escorted actors around during rehearsals leading up to opening night, including Yvonne de Carlo (Lily Munster in the 1960s television show The Munsters). It was amusing finding out that she may have had a thing for him.
Furthermore, songs went in and out. One of the most fascinating things to find out was that “I’m Still Here” was written during the Boston tryout. The original ditty that the character Carlotta (originally played by de Carlo) sang was called “Can That Boy Frox Trot?” However, it wasn’t working in Boston, so Sondheim came up with the former on a whim that tied the story’s flashbacks and current events together. On top of that, the musical received infamously mixed reviews when it premiered in April 1971. Chapin goes into great detail on how the creative team and the cast reacted to them. As a show, Follies remains divisive to viewers to this very day, and those initial assessments reflected that.
Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical Follies by Ted Chapin is a great book of how a famous Broadway musical came together. Even if one doesn’t know much about Follies, it’s still a memorizing read. Chapin excels with covering the show’s development from all angles while adding some personal touches. I would recommend it to anyone who loves musicals and wants to know more of how they get made. Regardless of how one feels about Follies as a show, go pick it up and see how it’s still here.
Before I go, I want to let everyone know that I will record the latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast soon. Guest Marc Bonani from the Broadway by Ghostlight Youtube Channel will join me to talk about how we would adapt this book. Keep an eye out for the link next week.
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Book Reviews by a Chick Who Reads Everything