Michael McGarrity's novel The Long Ago nibbles for the reader's attention at the start, and then proceeds to chomp away chapter after chapter to involve the reader's curiosity and sleuthing. The missing sister, younger than her brother Ray Lansdale, the protagonist, feels safe when her brother is home, but once he leaves for the Army, she takes the brunt of living in the house of a dysfunctional and mercurial mother, and alcoholic father. Her running away secretly makes sense.

The novel moves the readers and characters in waves into the patriarchal, law-abiding circle of family who are sane and safe. They provide a nucleus that allows and nourishes healthy growth and deep investigation by all the other characters involved in searching for
Ray's sister who--from all appearances--has simply vanished.

Primarily, author McGarrity 's writing is smooth, and provides easy transitions into the characters' lives and actions.

"Whatever will people say?" could be a sub-title for Laura L. Engel's novel "You'll Forget This Ever Happened."  In the 1950's and early '60's,  parents were cemented in their rules, and, from a teen's viewpoint, no amount of arguing (and really, there was very little of that!), cajoling, or trying a silence period would amend the rule, or their decisions.  Period. Young and pregnant, but unmarried, Laura Engel's pleading to stay in school for her high school senior year falls on deaf ears. Her parents' plan is set.  Engel definitively captures the emotions and thought patterns she and other similarly black-marked, unmarried, pregnant teenager's experience in the 1950's and '60's.  Her story is told with deep sensitivity, but her life experiences smack of unfair judgments made by unfeeling, merciless adults who seem to believe that she'll simply forget the unrelenting negativity showered on her by her parents and others during her pregnancy. Society pours salt on her wounds with the label "the incident" that is applied to her pregnancy and her unwilling, heart-wrenching surrender of her firstborn. All-the-while pining for her child,  it is no small feat that Engel pushes her memories down as deeply as she can in her adult years. Her overwhelming joy at reuniting with her adult son is palpable although marred by sadness. Laura Engel deserves accolades for reminding us that names and labels do hurt, and what other people think, say or do about our choices sadly can last a lifetime.

I've never read author Colleen Oakley novels, but The Mostly True Story of Tanner and Louise suggests I may read her other novels.

The first few chapters did not lead me to think about reading more of this story, nor any other works by Ms Oakley. (An older teen girl groaning and moping about her "sorry life" was a downer to this reader.) But,  I plunged ahead, and,  to my surprise and gratification, I am glad I did.

Ms Oakley's characters came to life and are well- rounded, lively, and funny! The author's sense of humor tickled me no end! Additionally, by book's end a higher purpose for the characters' escapades comes to life, and a resolution is reached.

Truth: I not only will read another novel by Colleen Oakley, but I will look forward to reading it.

For most of my life, when I thought of mythology, Edith Hamilton's name came to the fore. Now I dare say Jennifer Saint's name may well pop to mind! Her story about Adriane was captivating! Saint piqued my interest in Chapter One, and held it through the Epilogue. I was thoroughly engrossed in the story of this young female human, Ariadne, who lives with, above, and side by side gods and men. No need to tell more! Enjoy the read!

Having a beloved person die immerses us in painful sadness that takes an indeterminate amount of time to process. Carol Smith has written Crossing the River: Seven Stories That Saved My Life, a Memoir that relates her own path of grieving for her only child, Christopher, who dies at age ten of “natural” causes. What could be worse than losing your only child? For Smith it is not only that her cherished son has died, but that she was not with her child when he passed. How can she possibly ‘forget’ this, or him? Smith states that ‘letting go’ of her grief and guilt was the same to her as ‘forgetting’ him, and that would mean Christopher’s life never mattered. Unacceptable! Yet, her ‘living with’ interminable grief was not the answer either because she isolated herself from Life.

At one point, Smith is faced with a conundrum: When asked “Do you have children?” what should she say? ‘Christopher is my child’ or ‘Christopher was my child.’ The simple statements made no sense to her. She couldn’t make either be true. The author relates that she read in the New York Times that in the Khmer language the term for giving birth (chhlong tonle) means (“to cross the river”). In her grief she feels like she is being swept away by rushing waters, that she is drowning. Yet, she cannot die because who will remember her sweet son? There is no answer to 'why my child?' Her child’s death impels her to look at how other people grieve under their own painful circumstances.

As a journalist at Seattle Post- Intelligencer, (she previously worked at the Los Angeles Times), Smith’s boss suggests that Smith try her hand at medical stories. Since she’d been immersed in medicine with her son’s health problems for ten years, it seemed reasonable. Smith deftly investigates, probes, researches, and reports on seven people who each face a unique medical situation. It is through her immersion in each of these stories that Smith begins to realize that there is trans-formative power in loss, and that Hope and loss, Joy and sorrow, Grace and grief can co-exist.

Carol Smith writes so well that even though the reader is exposed to some horrific circumstances in a few stories, the book and its “lessons” move along. This book could do well as a book club choice if members are first aware of the author’s reason for writing.

As each human processes a loss of a beloved person, Grief changes its face. One can feel sadness, anger, pain, denial, and even fear, culminating, hopefully, in acceptance. In Laura Imai Messina's novel  "the phone booth at the edge of the world,"  main character Yui struggles with her own losses, and her seemingly unending grief. She is not alone, however, as others she meets have their own personal, yet similar, journeys to walk. In heartfelt, unique chapters, Messina creates characters who sensitively display how feelings of loss are encountered, dealt with, and shared. Moreover, Ms Messina shows how death and grief can lead to acceptance and hope. 
More so now, I wish I could find a phone booth....