At first I was not certain this book was for me; the first few chapters dragged, and the two main characters showed little personality. But Kaufman was being clever, for when Henry and Gloria finally meet in Oxford it reminded me of the first time I saw The Wizard of Oz film go from black/ white to color. Oxford is like Oz. The narrative comes to life here, and we see the witty and delightful sides of H and G. Unfortunately, the climax felt rushed and unrealistic. After a secret had been revealed, I thought the characters were far enough along in their healing to cope; but the reactions of both characters were so primal and intense that I expected any resolution to be far more drawn out and complicated.

Turn of Mind is a unique murder mystery in which the prime suspect, a former surgeon, suffers from progressive dementia. She struggles to remember that her friend and neighbor, Amanda, is dead, but has no memory of the event. The reader learns about events as Jennifer recalls them, or when she hears others discussing them, or reads back entries in her memory journal. A lengthy middle section barely touches on the murder plot, although it is still fascinating as it provides an intimate view of Jennifer’s mental decline from her own perspective.

The murder victim, who was Jennifer’s best friend, is an odd duck. She comes across as a woman who was difficult and full of jealousy; it is hard to see why Jennifer forged such a strong friendship with her, but that just adds to the mystery.

One of the best facets of Jennifer’s character is that, no matter what her mental state, she always demands the respect due to her. She reminds us that even those in the last stages of Alzheimer’s are human beings who should be treated with dignity. The ending is somewhat controversial, but I think few readers will object to it.

Turn of Mind works better as a psychological novel than as a murder mystery, since the majority of attention is given to Jennifer’s state of mind and her decline, but it is fascinating nonetheless.

Young-Stone uses spare prose to tell the stories of her characters, which seems appropriate for telling the lives of Becca and Buckley, who do not have much magnanimity in their lives. Unfortunately, I did not find them very likable in spite of my empathy for their suffering. At times (as adults), they seem to contribute to their own victimhood. But Becca and Buckley’s methods of artistic and emotional expression, along with a few twists of fate, are what ultimately bring them together. Buckley’s Handbook for Lightning Strike Survivors contains sobering information and an underlying thread of pain that echoes his experiences. Becca’s expression takes the form of her many paintings of fish, for which she uses dead “models” purchased at the local market. The decision of these two off-kilter people to make their pain visible brings about their meeting, and ultimately leads to some necessary closure for both of them.

Most people are drawn to stories of human tragedy and survival. But it isn’t just morbidness that makes us want to know the details; we want to understand both the nature of the event, and how an average person can experience the unthinkable and make it out the other side. After Beth Greenfield lived through a terrible car accident, her peers weren’t shy about asking penetrating questions: “Did you see the other car coming?” What were Kristin’s last words?” “Was it very bloody?” Greenfield answers these questions and more in a brutally honest account of the accident and the painful year that followed. While the narrative is sometimes jumpy, and the ending is both rushed and artificially hopeful (at a point where it seems the family is still struggling), this heartbreaking memoir is captivating and worthwhile, and would make an interesting choice for discussion groups.

The subtitle, “A Novel from the Ghost Files,” might lead you to think this book is based on a true story about a ghost-hunting expedition or a scary haunting. In fact, the ghosts—who can be bothersome, but aren’t dangerous—play a frustratingly minor role in this story, which is the purely fictional story of the multi-faceted life of Anza O’Malley. Anza struggles with being a single mother to her rambunctious five year old son, her unhealthy emotional attachment to her son’s happily married father, and, oh yes, the fact that she can see and talk to dead people.

The story of the missing manuscript and Anza’s encounters with the spirit world takes a back seat to her domestic issues. So, if you are looking for a good “ghost story,” look elsewhere. An average episode of The Ghost Whisperer will offer more tension and “fear-factor” than this novel.

Having said that, I found the story of Anza’s daily life with her son, Henry, to be realistic, and often quite charming (for example, the hoopla surrounding the kindergarten class party for the “Marriage of Q and U”). And the subplot involving the Winslow’s butler is sentimental, and more compelling than the hunt for the missing manuscript.

The Book of Illumination is a light, pleasant novel that simply needs a bit more balance and focus. But if you want a pleasant, diverting story about a woman trying to manage motherhood, work and romance while serving as a part-time Nancy Drew for a few harmless ghosts, you will enjoy this book.

In Enrique Joven’s The Book of God and Physics, a Jesuit priest seeks clues to the deciphering of a mysterious Renaissance document referred to as the Voynich Manuscript. The story is, of course, in a vein similar to The Da Vinci Code, and fans of that book will probably enjoy many aspects of this one. Yet, while the idea of the plot is intriguing, the execution leaves much to be desired. It suffers from common first-novel faults, such as poor character development, wooden and plodding dialogue, uneven pacing, and a general lack of subtlety in the writing. For me, the narration also fell flat. Then there is the egregious use of footnotes to explain the dialogue and actions of the characters, and Joven’s annoying habit of reprinting multiple passages from research websites (as his protagonist, Hector, reads them) in order to provide the reader with necessary historic details. Some of these could be issues with the translation, or it may be that (hopefully) by the next book, Joven will have developed as a fiction author.

There is a lot of neat scientific history in the book; however, these passages are not always well integrated into the story. (And if you don’t like a little edification with your novels, you will not appreciate this book.) Unfortunately, Joven’s work feels like two distinct books that have been poorly mixed together—a non-fiction treatise on scientific history, and a fictional piece that wants to be an entertaining mystery/adventure. The historical portions of the book were the best rendered. If readers can get past the average writing, as well as Hector’s frequent denigration of Creationism (which may be offensive to some) they may be pulled along by the story. But when the planned sequel to this book comes out, I will probably pass.