Dairy Queen, by Catherine Murdock

From the jacket: “‘When you don’t talk, there’s a lot of stuff that ends up not getting said.’ Harsh words indeed, from Brian Nelson of all people. But, D.J. can’t help admitting, maybe he’s right…

“Welcome to the summer that fifteen-year-old D.J. Schwenk of Red Bend, Wisconsin, learns to talk, and ends up having an awful lot of stuff to say.”

My take: This had been on my to-be-read list for ages, probably since it first skyrocketed into the blogosphere shortly after it was published three years ago. I finally picked up a copy from the library over the summer and couldn’t believe how great a narrator I’d been missing out on.

D.J. is a farm girl from Wisconsin who’s good at sports, bad at English, and frustrated with her family. Her father got hurt and the brunt of the work running their struggling dairy farm has fallen on D.J. (and, to a lesser extent, her younger brother) while he recuperates from surgery. When a dear family friend sends over summer help (hoping she’ll help instill him with some discipline), she knows she ought to be grateful. But when it’s the quarterback from the rival high school, a boy with a reputation of being a poor sport and a lazy jerk, D. J. flips out:

“So when Brian Nelson stepped out of his fancy new truck in his fancy new work boots that his mother probably bought him at Wal-Mart, I was just about as angry as I’ve ever been.”

Eventually, D.J. and Brian are able to work together — on farmwork, on football, and on life skills. But will that be enough to help Brian be the leader he wants to be or for D.J. to solve the communication problems plaguing her family, including the ones that have kept her two older brothers away from the farm? Or will old habits prove too hard to overcome?

Not only is her character endearing, but D.J. also has a great voice:

“I know when you watch TV about half the characters are gay, and probably in New York or Los Angeles or someplace like that you could meet tons and tons of gay people, and I’m okay with that. Some folks around here say mean things, but, hey, as long as you drink your milk and don’t call me Dairy Queen I don’t care what you do. But I also know Wisconsin doesn’t have any gay people. Or if it did, they all left.”

Can’t you just imagine a sophomore in high school thinking that?

There are two more books featuring D.J. as the main character and I’ll be seeking them out at the library. If you like realistic teen fiction (fans of Sarah Dessen, I’m looking your way), I’d suggest picking this one up soon.

Pages: 288

I’m currently reading four books and none of them are really holding my interest (despite several of them being quite good):

• Magic by the Lake (Edward Eager) is the story of four siblings who end up vacationing next to a wishing lake. I’m nearly done with this sequel to Half-Magic, which I read seven years ago.
• The Complete Persepolis (Marjane Satrapi) is the famous graphic novel (is novel really the correct term when it’s a memoir?) of a girl growing up in Iran in the 1970s and 1980s. It’s excellent, but not really the sort of thing I can lose myself in.
• The Sorceress (Michael Scott) is the third book in the Nicholas Flamel series. I think this has the exact opposite problem of the graphic novel, in that I want to have the time just to read it straight through. Or I’m getting burnt out on the characters. Not sure which yet, really…
• Merry, Merry Ghost (Carolyn Hart) is the latest book I picked up from the library and, as you might guess, is a seasonal mystery with a dead woman as the protagonist sent to earth to serve as, essentially, a guardian angel. Again, I don’t know if it’s just my state of mind or if I’m just not wowed by her writing, but I’m having a hard time getting into it.

Which one of them should I pull to the top of the pile? Or what should I be reading instead?

Snow, by Tracy Lynn

From the jacket: “In a tiny Welsh estate, a duke and duchess lived happily, lacking only a chil — or, more importantly, a son and heir to the estate. Childbirth ultimately proved fatal for the young duchess. After she died, the duke was dismayed to discover that he was not only a widower, but also father to a tiny baby girl. He vowed to begin afresh with a new wife, abandoning his daughter in search of elusive contentment. Independent — virtually ignored — and finding only little animals and a lonely servant boy as her companions, Jessica is pale, lonely, and headstrong … and quick to learn that she has an enemy in her stepmother. ‘Snow,’ as she comes to be known, flees the estate to London and finds herself embraced by a band of urban outcasts. But stepmother isn’t finished with her…”

My take: This was one of the novels I picked up from Riverby Books last month. I’m always interested in retellings of classic tales and this one sounded like it had potential for being a compelling version of “Snow White.”

Although the story takes place in 1920s Great Britain, Jessica (and her stepmother, Anne, for that matter) is a heroine with modern sensibilities, placing it firmly in the category of steampunk fiction.

Jessica is still a young girl when her father, a man from whom she is mostly estranged, remarries a woman from far away. She looks forward to the idea of finally having a mother, but is disappointed when the English duchess seems more interested in spending time with her new husband and behind closed doors than with caring for her. Yet with Anne’s arrival also comes Alan, a boy musician only a few years older than Jessica, who is kind and interested in chatting with her when he isn’t helping the Duchess with her scientific experiments.

As with the original tale, Jessica, or “Snow,” as she becomes known, angers her stepmother, who is unsuccessful at giving her husband another child, by growing more and more beautiful as she matures. Eventually, Anne, whose earlier diabolical science experiments are merely hinted at, decides the only way to become pregnant is to create a Frankenstein’s monster-style child. The key to this is to procure a human heart — and the Duchess has a specific one in mind.

Alan, who wears a magical charm that forbids both his lying to the Duchess or to telling others of her madness, convinces Jessica that she must flee if she values her life. She makes for London, where, this being a fairy tale, she is promptly pickpocketed and left penniless and hungry.

When she is discovered squatting on turf belonging to a gang of five (not seven) misfits, she must begin to build a new life for herself, to learn to trust again, and to decide what — and who — makes a family.

Snow isn’t of the same caliber as some other fantasy stories, and it inconsistently crosses that line between storytelling and breaking down the barrier between reader and narrator. As an interesting retelling of a story we all know forward and back, though, it’s definitely worth the couple hours necessary to read it. I’d recommend it as a library loan for those who love fantasy and fairy tales.

Pages: 259

No Way to Treat a First Lady, by Christopher Buckley

From the jacket: “Elizabeth Tyler MacMann, the First Lady of the United States, has been charged with killing her philandering husband, the President of the United States. In the midst of a bedroom spat, she allegedly hurled a historic Paul Revere spittoon at him, with tragic results. The attorney general has no choice but to put the First Lady on trial for assassination.”

My take: When you’re the First Lady and charged with murder, to whom do you turn? In the case of Beth MacMann, you call up your law school sparring partner, Boyce Baylor, now a sleazy but successful celebrity attorney whom you last saw when you jilted him for the man who’d become your husband. When sparks still fly as you work together to unravel the President’s death, is there any doubt that eventually you’ll find yourself fighting not just for your life but also for a second chance at love?

I picked this up at my grandmother’s suggestion earlier this year and was pleased to have done so. The story pulls you along quickly, the surroundings are peppered with my familiar D.C. scenery, and if the characters aren’t always likable, they do seem realistic. You end up rooting for Beth and Boyce to solve things quickly and to sort out their various entanglements. Plus the secondary characters, which include Babette Van Anka, the president’s paramour and a former B-grade singer/actress, are laugh-out-loud-worthy.

Want to read a book that epitomizes the ’90s, that combines the media circuses of the O.J. trial and the Monica Lewinsky scandal? This is the tale for you.

Buckley also wrote Thank You for Smoking, a hilarious parody of D.C. lobbyists, which I saw on film a few years back.

Pages: 288

I’ve been reading the blog Weekly Geeks for a while now. The concept behind it is a thought-provoking, weekly literature blogging meme.

Last week’s post asked readers to share “a podcast [or three] you love, preferably book related, but not necessarily so. Give us the link, of course, and share with us details about that podcast and why you enjoy it so much.”

I have enjoyed podcasts, which are similar to online radio shows available for download, for many years and have listened to a variety of them. Some are done by single people. Others have a group format. Some are actual radio broadcasts, while others record from their living rooms. Their foci range from knitting, food, and books to baseball, old time radio programming, and music.

For those who are interested, here are several of the podcasts I download (and listen to) regularly:

1. The Writer’s Almanac
   You might be familiar with this 5-minute segment if you listen to NPR during the day. Hosted by Garrison Keillor, it offers listeners a few literary “this day in history” highlights and concludes with a poem, often from modern poets. This is a great podcast if you have just a few minutes a day to spare or if you want more poetry in your life.
2. CraftLit
   Hosted by crafter extraordinaire Heather Ordover, CraftLit provides public domain classics read aloud (often as a part of Librivox). Heather, an English professor and former high school English teacher, starts each episode with a bit of crafty talk before moving on to the analysis of the previous week’s reading and a preview of the current episode’s material. We’ve read a variety of works this way so far, ranging from A Tale of Two Cities to Frankenstein to our most recent novel, The Scarlet Letter. Whether I’ve read them before or if they’re new-to-me, I almost always enjoy and learn from listening to these weekly podcasts.
3. Stash and Burn
   This podcast, hosted by San Francisco residents Jenny and Nicole, purportedly exists to help knitters work their way through their overflowing stashes, but instead is really just bimonthly love song to friendship and yarn. I like to listen to certain podcasts at certain times: CraftLit while I’m knitting and The Writer’s Almanac while I’m getting ready for work or on my way to the metro. Stash and Burn is my dishwashing podcast. Nicole and Jenny make excellent company while I’m doing tedious late-night chores, and I greatly appreciate their laughter and camaraderie.

I also enjoy and recommend several other podcasts, including Cast On, Quirky Nomads, Sticks and String, and The News from Lake Wobegon, a segment from Garrison Keillor’s popular A Prairie Home Companion.

What podcasts, if any, do you enjoy listening to?

One of the best things about living in D.C. is the proximity of great bookstores, especially Politics & Prose.

A couple weeks ago, Barbara Kingsolver came to town. Knowing how popular she is, the store arranged for her to do her reading at a local church.

She started off behind the pulpit, but after a little while moved to center stage.

I have enjoyed her work since sophomore year when I took a class on contemporary women’s writing. We read The Bean Trees and I fell in love. More recent books have merely reinforced the sentiment. I especially enjoyed Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which was one of the best books I read last year.

Her new novel, The Lacuna, focuses on the first half of the 20th century. It sounds great, and I’m eager to start reading it.

After reading for half an hour or so, Barbara took questions from the audience, including interesting ones about whether she felt sad leaving her characters behind when she was done working on a book.

She also signed books.

I managed not to fall down in front of her when it was my turn. But I did stumble all over myself in a fangirlish effort to thank her for her writing. She was gracious, in just that way I knew she would be.

Oh, and she did say she liked my shirt.

I will own that shirt forever.