Do we ever find peace with who we are, where we come from, or the choices we have made? And if we do, are we ever totally honest with anyone – including ourselves – about any of that? In Young Jane Young, Gabrielle Zevin takes on those questions and their answers in a humorous yet haunting manner through the well-crafted characters in her latest adult novel.

Although broken up into five segments, each focusing on one of the primary players at a pivotal time in their part of the story as a whole, and each being written in a different voice/style, Zevin made the book feel as if it was a through-composed piece, seamless and complete. I admit I was a bit put off when I saw the physical structure laid out in the table of contents since I think many contemporary authors use structural gimmicks in the place of creating continuity in their writing. But I was thrilled to learn I was concerned in vain: she didn't use a trick – she used her talent. And she used it well.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book for many reasons but perhaps the main one is what I see as an underlying premise of the book: forgiveness and fresh starts are possible and in order to achieve both, you must always be true to yourself. I do believe we can always use a reminder about that and Gabrielle Zevin gave us that in Young Jane Young.

Normally, I am not a "Debbie Downer" when it comes to my opinion regarding a new novel by a young writer. But this time, I think I am.

While Grinder has an excellent grasp of format and style, I really feel like he is selling this book under the wrong banner: I do not think it is funny, hilarious or addicting, as did several authors chosen to help ballyhoo this effort. This is a realistically sad book: families are a collection of mismatched, disturbed loons!!! At least, that's the group put on display in this book. And I didn't find their travails to be either entertaining or hilarious. To me, they are dysfunctional and selfish – which, again, is exactly what most families are – and while that can be funny, it wasn't in this book. Grinder did not take full advantage of the humor that was supposedly there.

Perhaps my real issue is with the publishing company and the hook they tried to create for this venture. All I know is that this book is not AT ALL what I was told it would be and it wasn't a pleasant surprise discovering what it actually is: yet another self-indulgent diatribe about siblings from different parental match-ups not feeling as if they are the center of their particular parents' universe.

Creative souls are within select individuals from birth, I believe, and whether or not they develop into people who act upon that creativity depends on myriad variables; but, I also believe that the whole nature vs. nurture concept is perhaps the most powerful of those variables! In the case of author Daphne du Maurier, the focus of Tatiana de Rosnay's research complied within Manderley Forever, both of my beliefs are given great support! The paternal heritage of du Maurier is a textbook version of artist begetting artist. And the relationships within the family serve as further opportunities for nurturing du Maurier's already highly developed artistic temperament.

Using a very inspired means of giving us the biography of du Maurier's life as if it is a novel being told in the 3rd person, de Rosnay takes us from womb to the tomb in a fairly captivating manner throughout. There are a few places where I feel she does get bogged down with repetitive introspective moments such as moments spent at the du Maurier summer home; otherwise, the work moves at a nice pace. I also enjoyed how she began each section with her present-day notes on the upcoming material which avoided maligning the flow of the work.

While I definitely would not recommend this book for young readers, I do think that most women's book clubs would love to discuss this book! I know I would enjoy discussing it with others who are fans of du Maurier and those who are just now learning about this creative artist's world.

Control is an issue that causes most of us great anxiety at one point in time or perhaps, every single day. In Leavitt's creation of the world that includes Charlotte, her younger sister, Lucy, their parents, Iris – the woman who raises them – and each of the secondary characters in Cruel Beautiful World, control is a primary fact of their core issues in life.

I believe Leavitt does an excellent job in conveying that issue in each character and their storyline – something that in today's current writing I find to be sadly lacking and therefore, a great source of disappointment. She is quite adept at going from one character to another, creating a consistent thread that weaves a seamless connection between the varied characters' scenarios and action without losing the focal point of the main plot.

She knows how to control the development of a novel without making is pedantic or a garbled mess – and I love that about this book! The story is a powerful one that grasps your heartstrings without you even being aware – a magical moment is made when that realization hits you.

Charlotte Gold discovers this powerful truth through her journey "Control wasn't freedom. It didn't protect anyone, not you nor the ones you loved and if anything, it kept you from living."

Carolyn Leavitt leads you through that process and opens up your heart and mind to discovering your own beliefs in this moving story of self-discovery of what is your own Cruel Beautiful World.

Destiny: noun: a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistible power.

Is there such a thing? Does it exist? And is love the power behind it – or is it fear? And is it part of our destiny to not only love someone but to also love ourselves?

Thomas Christopher Greene's latest novel, If I Forget You, begs you to search from within to see what you believe while being drawn into a lyrical telling of a story of love.

Greene's masterful use of alternating mindsets is paired perfectly with his seamless story telling despite a constant change of time-frame. No other author of recent note has perfected that often-used format as beautifully and fluidly as Greene.

In a classic case of opposites attract, Henry Gold – a man driven by integrity, raised in quite ordinary circumstances, possessed of an artistic soul and rich in all things other than money, is drawn to Margot Fuller – his opposite in all ways, save one – her equally undeniable penchant for him and him alone. In direct contrast, Margot has unending financial wealth, was raised with no moral guidance other than 'public image is everything,' and is self-centered and somewhat hedonistic.

Their love is a transforming force in Margot's life and she is forever changed. And Henry, always valiant and true, has his heart and soul thrown into the refiner's fire more than once because of this unconditional bond they share. But challenges emerge and choices are made that put love, honesty and truth to the test.

One of the greatest challenges we all have is facing our truth – finally being completely honest with yourself and with those who matter most to you. If I Forget You inspires us to try.

Love is the most complex of all emotions, in my humble opinion, and that is made abundantly evident in The Two-Family House. Lynda Cohen Loigman takes us on a masterful journey into the relationships of two brothers, their wives, children and extended family, which, on the surface seems to be very simple and matter-of-fact. And for a day or so after I finished reading it, I thought that it was just that - a simple novel about a family with issues.

But I was wrong. I couldn't stop thinking about those people - how they thought and felt, and how they behaved, as a result of one feeling: love. Each character in Loigman's creation goes through gut-wrenchingly difficult situations, either prior to when we meet them or throughout the time we are privy to their reality. Choices are made by parents and siblings that effect every generation named in the book as well as those that will follow. And despite the fact that so many of those choices are made out of love, painful difficulties ensue and lives are complicated and very often, damaged in major ways.

As it is in life, we are not aware of the circumstances that were someone's reality before we are born or before we encounter them and it is so in this book. The parents of Abe, Mort, Helen and Rose are not part of the cast of characters but they play a strategically impactful role in each character's story line. And as it is in life, one would like to think that all parent's actions/decisions are unselfish and come from unconditional love for their children – but that is not universally true and again, in my opinion, definitely not the case in this book. And the way in which Lynda Cohen Loigman goes about revealing this to us has made me realize that this author has a very special gift – she removes you from wherever you are at the moment you begin The Two-Family House and takes you on a venture into exploring the truly complex nature of love.

Love and War: what a perfect subtitle for a book about two of the most insecure, emotionally immature and self-destructive individuals ever to grace the stage and screen of the purported halcyon days of Hollywood! John Brady did nothing to sugar-coat the turbulent lives of Frank Sinatra and Ave Gardner – the unvarnished truths of their individual and collective lives are researched, verified and laid bare for all to read, thereby removing any remaining doubt that the combination of these two was the human version of gasoline and a blow torch.

While the construction of the book lacks smooth transitions and finesse, the details of this relationship are all there. And if one held any manner of mythical memories of the load of lies the publicists of the day fed the adoring fans, this book will push them out of mind as fast as a locomotive express. Brady shows us that Frank Sinatra was a domineering, patriarchal male who viewed women as chattel. And Ava Gardner was a neglected little girl who used a broad and aggressive manner with men to hold her own among them. Yet in some way, they became addicted to each other and as with all addicts, if left untreated, the thing they want the most is the worst thing for them.

This is a detailed telling of a deeply dysfunctional relationship that played out to its dying day in front of the whole world. If you want to read about pain and emotional recrimination, this is the book for you. You cannot read this book and view Frank and Ava the same ever again.

I have never been to Paris but Paris has always been on my mind and David Downie's latest book, A Passion for Paris: Romanticism and Romance in the City of Light beautifully illustrates why that is so!

I am an ardent student of the Romantic period, both vocationally and avocationally but Downie's complete emersion into this era is beyond anything I have ever encountered. He adores Paris more than any just about anyone. And his knowledge of its people and history has been gained through personal experience and exposure to them in a quite visceral manner. After reading two pages, I knew I could trust him to be authentic and accurate and I was totally enamored with who he is due to the way in which he reveals himself through the telling of the stories of the lives of the key figures from this mystical time in Paris.

One aspect of the book that I find to be helpful, especially for those not well-versed in this era, is an appendix which gives a thumb-nail bio of each main character involved in the Romanticism movement in Paris. As well, the illustrations, photographs and prints scattered throughout the book keeps the reader aware that this is a real place and these are real people whose lived are being explored and exposed!

All in all, I heartily recommend A Passion for Paris: Romanticism and Romance in the City of Light for anyone who has been, is going to or is just curious about Paris and its exciting role in the world of the arts!



Editor's Note: Cheri read an advance reading copy of A Passion for Paris. While we are not sure in this case whether the finished book will have an appendix, many ARCS are missing these sorts of finishing touches as they are created before the final editing process.

My issues with this book center around construction and design. I feel the constant back and forth between characters has been done to death by too many authors as of late. There is nothing wrong with maintaining a flow of thought and action. The drama of the plot was not actualized as fully as I had hoped. All in all, I was disappointed in this book.

Konrad Adenauer, the first post-war Chancellor of West Germany from 1949 to 1963, is credited with saying, "We all live under the same sky, but we don't all have the same horizon." In Amanda Eyre Ward's latest novel, Same Sky, the same thing can be said for the two leading characters, Alice and Carla.
Alice, a 40-something native New Yorker/Austin, Texas transplant, has faced many difficult horizons since becoming an adult: the loss of her mother, surviving breast cancer and living with the complicated and very often devastating circumstances of infertility. However dark her days have been, Alice possesses a form of eternal optimism that propels her forward in her happily married life with Jake, a professional Texas BBQ smoke-master. One cannot help but be on her side, hoping and praying that someday, her dreams will be fulfilled.
Far away in a very dark and dangerous part of Central America, 12-year-old Carla lives her life under a sky that is constantly raining a hopeless terror, an unending hunger and a hostile future. Left with her aged grandmother and younger siblings by her Mother who escaped to America to make a better life, Carla's childhood is non-existent – she is forced to live an adult's life. Determined to be with her mother, she embarks on a venture of escape that is rife with all of the vulgarities of this world and the next, making her an even older version of a 12-year-old, more burdened than one can imagine.
The intersection of the lives of these two comes together not only under the same sky, but also with the view of a mutual horizon of hope that is beyond their wildest dreams – both being freed and able to focus on the life they have struggled to achieve.

I have such respect for authors and an immediate pull toward those whose work has garnered time-honored awards such as the Pulitzer. And, I put great stock in the opinion of critics and reviewers who have proven to operate with integrity and intelligence. After doing my homework and with these reasons behind me, I chose to read Jane Smiley's Some Luck.

Smiley takes the reader through the daily lives of an Iowa family. Each chapter covers a year, although only 1-2 situations are shared out of an entire year's span. One or two characters are featured and you learn a small bit of information about what makes that person who they are or how they effect the rest of the family.

After ten or so chapters, I wanted a change of pace and I do mean pace. Smiley's narrative moves as slowly as the time does for the members of the Langdon family. There is little to no stimulus from the outside world to get them motivated to make any change and as a result, I believe change frightens them, especially Walter, the head of the household. The family is insulated and confined to the world they have created on the farm. Smiley takes us as far into their minds as the characters will allow.

I appreciate the way she so aptly conveys the mentality of that time. The diversity between the husband and wife, the children and parents, the children with each other and the whole family with the others in their community is depicted clearly via the choices made or not by all involved.

This book is very deceptive. It reads as simple but transcends into varying forms of complexity emotionally, mentally and socio-economically. I look forward to seeing where the next two books go and how they get there!