I finally thought of something to do with tumblr: organize and curate my collection of photos from around the city. I'm now the proud owner of five new blogs, each with its own theme. Head to my main tumblr to find the rest.
1. I used to feel bad about having a cleaning lady come to my house every two weeks, but then I realized she makes more on average per hour than I do, and now I feel a little better. Also, it's incredibly nice to have a clean house for two days a month. Badum-ching. 2. Someone in my neighborhood has been sticking dead purple bears to various street signs and lights. I like it more than I probably should.
3. I was briefly known around my neighborhood as "the one who counts yard signs for Twitter." There's a contentious development to the north of Bloomingdale on a disused sand filtration site, and I was attempting to get a sense of the level of support by what people say with their front lawns. The war of the yard signs continues unabated. The latest chess move is putting "I SUPPORT CORRUPTION" stickers on the "CREATE MCMILLAN PARK" (pro-development) signs. Reportedly one neighbor got pictures of the perpetrator and turned the evidence into the cops. But what I really want to know is whether the person placing the stickers is in favor of or opposed to the proposed development. Because if the person is in fact in favor of the development and is using the stickers to get neighbors enraged at the opposition, then, bravo, sir. Check. Mate.
4. Please don't let this be the only comment on my website this month.
5. Finally, if you're still with me, I had two new pieces of writing go up online last week, one on the EdTech website and one at Tirage Monthly. If you read them both you should get a pretty good idea of my range as a writer. (Ahem, hire me.)
Not so long ago, I got in a bad habit of not reading. I know this admission might shock those who knew me as a child (most especially my parents, who find it hilarious that I still don't know how to get from my hometown to Fargo, ditto my hometown to my aunt and uncle's house), but it's true: I haven't been reading much, for quite some time. Blame Twitter, blame smartphones, blame a minor television addiction--but it's simply a fact. But I've found the best way to overcome this particular inertia is to have several reading projects going at a time. To wit, I have my New York Times Bestseller Project and the bookclub I joined at the beginning of the year, both of which continually provide me with no-brainer next books. I also try to keep up with current lit, adding books I hear or see reviewed in a variety of venues to my library cue and reading them as they come in to my local branch.
I recently added another gambit/project to my "a reader in motion stays in motion" bag of tricks: the alphabet. I'm working my way through the stacks at my library, choosing one book at a time based on the author's last name, starting with one from A and working my way, letter by letter, to Z.
Won't lie, I'm deliberately picking short ones.
The first two I read were A Death in the Family, the Pulitzer-winning posthumous novel by James Agee. Then I read The Development, a series of nine linked stories by John Barth. For short reviews, be sure to stop back at the end of the quarter, when I sum up my most recent three months in books.
Next up: Double Indemnity by James M. Cain, Cosmopolis by Don DeLillo, and Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlife by David Eagleman. You know, alongside reading Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo and Bark by Lorrie Moore for bookclub, The Song of Bernadette by Franz Werfel and Drivin' Woman by Elizabeth Chevalier for the bestseller project, and the two or three other random selections I have out at the moment, plus a healthy dose of board books for the benefit of the pre-reader set in the house.
Do you have any secrets for maintaining forward momentum in your reading that you'd care to share?
Spritz is a Boston-based startup hoping to revolutionize reading one word at a time--literally. Their app breaks text into single-word chunks and displays it for the reader at rates starting at 250 words per minute (much faster than the average reading rate). Like most new reading technologies, my initial instinct is no, no, no. I resisted e-readers right until I received one for Christmas and started reading far more than I had been--and what a help my device proved in my sea-going days, letting me take a small library onto my ship.
And yet. Spritz promises that, given time with the app, you'll be able to read at rates that would let you blast through long books in a matter of hours. It has the potential to be revolutionary. Imagine being able to read classic novels in an afternoon, textbook chapters in a matter of minutes, and most of your day's worth of emails in seconds.
If you want to try it, Spritz has teamed up with Oyster, the book subscription service, to place The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People online. (Click here to give it a shot.) 6% of the way in after 28 minutes, reading at up to 350wpm, my impression is that it takes some getting used to--I get a bit unsettled, almost like an edge of motion sickness, but I think that might fade as I adapted to the technology and stopped trying to move my eyes (Spritz works in part by centering each word at an optimal point, allowing you to read without moving your eyes over a page). I will also have to relax and stop trying to silently read aloud in my head, if that makes sense--I think you almost have to just let the words wash over your eyeballs to achieve higher speeds. And they have to figure out how to deal with text that asks you to refer to diagrams on other pages or that is footnoted (as demonstrated early on in Habits, when the author starts talking about a well-known optical illusion, and the Spritzer is unable to "turn to page X"). Still, as a slow reader, this technology could change the way I operate. I can imagine Spritzing through things before returning to them in book form to reread and savor--or not, if I found the book not to my taste.
So--would you Spritz?
Jaci B.: reading late into the night to bring you a review of a bestselling book (from 70+ years ago). This is The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas.
There was no limit to the credulity of unsophisticated people. Indeed, they rather liked to believe in the uncanny.
How I got the book: DC Public Library. As I mentioned before, by rights this should have been the fourth book in the project, but because it was a library book I bumped it up to read it before it needed to be returned. If you want to read it, there are three more copies available here in the city to anyone with a library card.
The writer: Lloyd C. Douglas. Click on his name to read the full Wikipedia article. Douglas was a very popular writer in his time--in fact, this isn't the first of his books I've read. One of my mom's favorite books is Magnificent Obsession (1929), and she gave me a copy several years ago. Douglas was a Lutheran pastor before he became a writer, and that previous calling strongly influences the tone taken in the latter.
The book: Bible fanfic. Seriously, though, if fan fiction is defined in large part by practitioners who take minor characters or pre-existing settings and spin new stories from those materials, the term suits this book really well. Douglas dedicated the book to Hazel McCann, "who wondered what became of The Robe," and the back of the edition I read (a 1975 reprint) elaborates, explaining that McCann was an Ohio department store saleswoman who wrote Douglas to ask if anyone knew the fate of Jesus' robe, famously won by one of his Roman executioners in a game of dice.
Two years later, Douglas had produced the story of Marcellus, a Tribune who is punished by being sent to the Roman fort at Minoa when he offends Prince Gaius, presumptive heir to the throne, and who while in Palestine is charged to crucify a certain Jewish carpenter. Marcellus, drunk and heartsick, wins Jesus' robe, a fateful event that changes the course of his entire life.
In the course of the novel, we meet many Biblical characters--not just Jesus but also Simon Peter and Saul of Tarsus, as well as many of the people who witnessed miracles, and two separate emperors. Given this fact, the other possibility for classifying this novel would be, I suppose, historical fiction. And it runs into one of the main problems I have with historical fiction--that we know how things turn out, so it becomes a bit of a game, making some characters prophetically wise and others tragically short-sighted, based on the audience's foreknowledge of events to come. For example, during the crucifixion Demetrius, Marcellus' Greek slave, thinks regretfully that Jesus "had paid a high price for his brief and fruitless war on wickedness"--but later he will come to see things quite differently. Marcellus, who later returns to Palestine, muses that if the Christian idea spread, "all of the armies could be demobilized," which must have seemed like even more of a dream in 1942. Surprisingly, it is Emperor Tiberius who perhaps sees things most clearly: "It will collapse--after a while. Soon as it gets into a strong position...[t]hen it will squabble over its offices and spoils--and grow heady with power and territory." Marcellus and Demetrius come across as hopeless idealists (and in some ways prod Douglas's readers to imagine what could be were they to take more seriously their Christian burden), while Emperor Tiberius' realisms seem quite damning, coming as they do from the mouth of an infirm lunatic. Douglas writes with a point of view and a teaching, preaching intention that has fallen entirely out of style, at least in literary fiction--but I'd read him over contemporary Christian fiction any day.
A few other notes:
- The Romans all "drawl," in this book. He drawled, she drawled. Also, things are "vasty." A breathtakingly gorgeous young woman is "adorable," an adjective we now apply to small cute animals. And rather than say "bitch," Douglas charmingly writes "a kennel word."
- In light of the Holocaust, well underway in Europe at the time this book was published (and at least moderately well publicized in the United States, according to this article from the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum), there are a few mentions of violence against Jews that stood out as I was reading. According to the captain of the ship that delivers Marcellus and Demetrius to Minoa, "The Emperor could send in all the legions that Rome has under arms, and put on such a campaign of slaughter as the world has never seen; but it wouldn't be a permanent victory. You can't defeat a Syrian. And as for the Jews! -- you can kill a Jew, and bury him, but he'll climb out alive!...Yes, sir -- he will climb right up the spade-handle and sell you the rug he died in!" I actually flinched, reading that. Other parts of the book focused on the Jewish hope for a Messiah. Benjamin, a Jewish weaver in Athens, explains it to Marcellus: "All of our great prophets have foretold the coming of the Messiah...In periods of national calamity there has been much talk of it. In times of great hardship and persecution, the Jews have been alert to discover among themselves some wise and brave man who might give evidence of messianic powers." Those lines seemed especially poignant as I reflected on the time, not to which they refer, but in which they were written.
- I didn't often quibble with Douglas on details, but I was surprised that in a letter from Demetrius to Marcellus, Demetrius talks about being robbed by Bedouins and finding a general lack of hospitality. The Middle East as a whole has a long-standing reputation for hospitality, reportedly bred of the harsh landscape. It struck me as an off-note.
- Finally, there is much in the novel about slavery and master-slave relationships. Demetrius outright refuses manumission at least twice, in order to better serve the master he loves. Douglas seems more influenced here by Biblical depictions of slavery than the form that ended in his own country only a few years before he was born.
Next up is the Song of Bernadette, which should be quite interesting given its genesis as the product of a vow undertaken by the writer during his flight from Nazi persecution in 1940. Until then, here's my quick cover redesign sketch.
Like the New York Times Bestseller Project? Read along, share with your friends, and don't forget to write (in the comments box below)!
I use Craigslist. I buy things, occasionally; I sell things. I peruse "Missed Connections" from time to time because, well, I'm an anthropologist and interested in everything human, and find longing especially fascinating. And, like the proverbial moth, I'm drawn time and again to the flame that is "writing/editing jobs."
There's no place more treacherous, I think, than the "writing/editing jobs" portion of Craiglist. (Caveat: "writing gigs" may in fact be worse.) Let me break it down for you. "writing/editing jobs" [sic] include the following sorts of posts:
- requests for unpaid interns
- people with "bestseller" ideas who want to split the "massive profits" after you've completed that pesky writing bit on spec
- poorly-punctuated, all-caps invectives screaming "LETS MAKE MONEY TOGETHER" from unnamed "successful companies" or "high-powered consulting firms"
- sundry likely scams I'm too lazy to confirm as verifiable scams (but I'm looking at you, "don't use the Craigslist email relay system" posters)
- the occasional, apparently-legitimate seeker of a professional writer or editor
In short: a quagmire. A cesspool. A wretched hive of scam and villainy (see what I did there?).
By the time I drag myself away, I'm definitely a bit down, a bit blue, a bit defeated. And feel a bit dirty, not in a good way.
So...anybody looking for a writer?
My husband likes to throw parties. People inevitably, on purpose and not, leave things behind: vegetable peelers, assorted Tupperware, cheap sunglasses, etc. (Sometimes things also disappear...things like the toilet paper spindle from the guest bathroom.) After the last one, someone whose identity is known but whom I shall not name left a bottle of execrably cheap bourbon behind. Note: if you're trying to offload offbrand liquor at a party, I recommend putting it in a decanter. I expect that doing so would be a powerful demonstration of human psychology. However, in its original bottle, no one touched the stuff.
Since said husband declared that bourbon undrinkable (a position seconded by my own father), and since the same man recently had A Significant Birthday Ending In A Zero, I thought it would be fun to use the bourbon in a recipe and create something to eat in celebration. So I adapted this cookie recipe and came up with Chocolate Bourbon Peanut Cookies. Recipe below.
P.S. "Hey Jacquelyn, I thought this website was about your freelance writing business." Go ahead, complain about me sharing a recipe for cookies. I've already explained how vital they are to my creative process.
P.P.S. If you still have cheap bourbon left over, Smitten Kitchen has a delightful recipe for milk punch. Which obviously goes perfectly with cookies of all sorts.
Last week I finished reading the first book for my New York Times Bestseller Project, And Now Tomorrow by Rachel Field.
Give me any plague but the plague of the heart.
How I got the book: Kindle (affiliate link), $2.89. It was unavailable at the library and given the cost of shipping, an e-book was the most economical option. The formatting was crude but it was perfectly readable.
The writer: Rachel Field. Click on her name to read the full Wikipedia article. Interestingly, she died the year And Now Tomorrow was published, in 1942. She won the Newbery Award in 1930 for the children's book Hitty, Her First Hundred Years, and her novel Time Out of Mind won a National Book Award in 1935. She was awarded a Caldecott Medal posthomously in 1944 for picture book Prayer for a Child. (Bonus fact: And Now Tomorrow was turned into a screenplay written by Raymond Chandler and was released in late 1944!)
The book: Ah, I thought, it's about the death of the protagonist's mother. No, it's about World War I. No, it's about the death of the protagonist's father in World War I. Finally, around a third of the way in, I discovered what the book is really about--love, labor rights, and hearing loss.
First lesson from this project, it seems, is that books moved at a different pace in 1942.
Part medical thriller, part romance, the bulk of the story takes place in 1931, as Emily Blair, the main character, discovers that her absence of a few years' time as she has pursued a cure for a disability brought on by a bout of meningitis has left her estranged from her fiance of several years, also a supervisor at her family's textile mills. Prohibition is as much a character in the tale as the Great Depression. Given that the U.S. was well into World War II when this book took the first-ever top spot on the NYT list, it seems almost as if it's an escape into the problems of the past, which may by then have taken on a bit of a nostalgic sheen.
There's a lot to be said about character's attitudes toward women in this book. Emily and her sister were raised mainly by their unmarried aunt Em. Cousin Eunice, depicted as a flighty women obsessed with society, nags her younger cousin Emily to marry, concerned because, as Emily nears the age of 21, she doesn't have a romantic interest in her life:
That comes of an old main like Em bringing you up. Not that Em isn't a remarkable woman, but then what woman wants to be remarkable?
Once Emily finally ("finally") falls in love just before her birthday, it's hardly surprising that she makes a mess of it. Looking back on her love affair--the entire book is framed as though she's writing it after triggering some memories going through a storage room--she recalls how she made excuses for Harry's moods.
It's different with a man, I would reason; he doesn't have to make his whole world of a single person.
Indeed, except for the first summer of their romance, Harry treats Emily as though she is little better than a child. My impression was of a narrator who finally realized that she had sold herself short through most of her early 20s. She's constantly asking about what's happening at the family textile mill, where the workers are striking for better wages while the management watches business dry up in the face of the national economic collapse. In fact, Emily and her sister are the product of a marriage between their millhand mother and their mill-owner father. From my vantage point, her ability to empathize with both sides could have been a boon, were she brought in and educated to run the mills, but everyone else sees her as just a muddle-headed, soft-hearted woman who shouldn't worry herself about things she'll never understand.
Only Dr. Vance sees the potential in Emily. Only he challenges her and her tendency to behave automatically as is expected of her:
You put me in mind of something I read in a book once when I was a kid. It was about Marie Antoinette going to the guillotine, and how she stepped on the executioner's foot and begged his pardon--
So is And Now Tomorrow a feminist novel? Probably no more than it's a pro-labor novel--but Field definitely bring empathy to her writing, and while it's not a comedy of manners in the Jane Austen sense, she definitely manages to put across a point of view that leaves the reader feeling that Emily could be (and will be) more than she has been.
A few additional observations:
- Prohibition seems to be the one thing that everyone can agree on: no one, regardless of class, is teetotaling. Early on in their affair, Harry and Emily share a bottle of bootleg Chianti Harry got off one of the millhands, who is making it in his woodshed and selling it in "catsup" bottles. Harry lectures Emily about how women don't really understand drinking as she tries not to let on just how bad the wine is. She asks him how it feels to be drunk. He replies, "Kind of like a god until you pass out."
- Another character in the novel? Cigarettes, without any moral implications on their smokers. Emily and Dr. Vance smoke together following a tense night of impromptu surgery on the table in a poor family's kitchen. The novel is littered with ashes and lighters. Emily is the opposite of edgy and cool, but she smokes a lot. It's not a marker of any sort of status.
- There's a lot of excitement about antibiotics in the novel, given the medical focus. Field would have known the difference that antibiotics were beginning to make in the treatment of infection as she was writing, and the lack of antibiotics, which are in development but not commercially available, plays a role in two major plot points in the book.
- I've written on this site before about how it seems to me that Google has taken the mystery out of life. Reading this book showed me that mine is not a groundbreaking observation. Field has Emily say something similar: "Miracles are out of fashion nowadays. Or perhaps it is only that they have been explained away from us. Radios and newsreels and words have shorn them of their mystery."
- Another constant in life is, apparently, the influence parents have on their kids. Emily's father charged her as a young girl to always do what's expected of her while admitting he hadn't done what was expected of him, and to be happy for her aunt's sake. Trying to fulfill these imperatives has a lot to do with how Emily tries to live in her early adulthood, and it doesn't work out very well.
I'll return to And Now Tomorrow when I sum up 1942, but first I have to read the other three novels from the list. Up next will likely be The Robe, since it was the only one I was able to get out from the library and, therefore, the only one with a due date. Until then, here's a quick sketch of my cover update--a very rough idea of how I would repackage And Now Tomorrow were it to be reprinted for an audience today. I chose to focus on the car that is so a part of the plot, as it illuminates what is to come. Enjoy!
Today's lunch challenge is a quick prompt: write something that starts with the line, "I've probably never told anyone some of the things I'm telling you." And now, a completely unrelated picture I took of the White House on Friday. I had never been to the Ellipse side, in over two years of DCidence. There's still a lot to see.
I got an email yesterday. It looked like this:
[First Name redacted]
To which I responded (open-letter style, expecting, of course, that the sender will never see it)
Come on people. Use ellipses carefully. An email that simply reads "Thanks..." will leave me uneasy for hours.
— Jacquelyn Bengfort (@jacib) March 25, 2014
on Twitter. (Three retweets AND one favorite? In my world, THIS IS BLOWING UP, PEOPLE, THIS IS VIRAL.)
But maybe you're asking yourself, "How do I send an email of acknowledgement and avoid giving the recipient heartburn and a lingering sense of self-doubt?"
Here's a handy guide. It all comes down to punctuation (and a little bit to capitalization, too).
You're in a hurry. You're a bit terse. You got my email. I get it.
In this instance, the best option, I think. I'm not usually a proponent of exclamation points, but here, it takes the edge off your message. You're in a hurry, but you're still happy to have heard from me.
"How unexpected! I think you've sent me something I need/want! But I'm not sure! But thanks!" I suspect you've responded without reading. Hey man, it's cool. No bigs.
Here I just think you send a lot of emails from your phone, you sent this one from your computer, and autocorrect has made you a little lazy. You probably tried to double space for a period, too. Oh Apple, what you have done to us?
Have I done something to offend you?
You're eight. Or a unicorn.
Here's what I'll be working on over lunch:
Take three randomly-generated words (click here)
Incorporate all three into a short piece of writing in three minutes
In under ten minutes, I'll have started three new things. My random words are HOSPITAL, SUGAR, and ZIP.
Care to play? Tweet your random words with the hashtag #lunchwrite or share them in the comments section.
And: don't forget to eat.
This post contains affiliate links, and I may receive a small commission for purchases made by clicking through to merchant sites. I'm a marginally-employed writer so I won't apologize for this half-hearted attempt to monetize my website. I'm clinically technophobic,* but I'm glad that my husband convinced me to join Goodreads. I really like scrolling through and seeing what I've read in the couple of years I've maintained an account. I've been dedicated to scanning in books, even the picture books I read to my daughter. So I thought it could be fun to do a quarterly summation of what I've been reading, with some very short reviews.
And here we go.
The Orphan Master's Son by Adam Johnson
- A beautiful novel, and one that I may not have picked up but for joining a bookclub that first convened this past January and meets monthly. In many ways it's like a Forrest Gump for North Korea, and perhaps the strongest endorsement I can give it is that it got me reading a bunch of nonfiction books about North Korea--and I don't usually read nonfiction.
A Postcard Memoir by Lawrence Sutin
- I read this after taking a flash nonfiction course through the Eckleburg Workshops. It pairs the writer's postcard collection with short reflections on his life. I enjoyed dipping into this one over the course of a few weeks, and was excited to see postcards from places I've been on a few of the pages.
Chronicle of a Death Foretold by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
- This was February's bookclub selection. I enjoyed it--it breaks rules while still succeeding. Still, it was not the most popular choice with many of the other readers. I left our meeting, though, wanting to read it all over again.
BANG! The Great Somali Goat Bubble by Julian Gough
- More a long short story, this book was provided to me by DailyLit as part of a promotion of their latest round of DailyLit Originals. It's a terribly clever attempt to try to explain certain excesses of the market in terms of livestock being chopped up by plane propellers. I very much enjoyed it and felt smarter at the end.
Moominsummer Madness by Tove Jansson
- I was introduced to Moomintroll and the rest in a review in an old issue of the literary journal Post Road. This series of Finnish books is a cult classic, and I will probably return to them when my daughter is old enough for chapter books--they would be fun to read aloud.
Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick
- Thus began my foray into nonfiction about North Korea. Demick based her book on interviews with defectors she met while covering the Korean peninsula from Seoul for the LA Times. I cried at times, I laughed at times, I got angry and I pestered my husband by sharing information gleaned from these pages. Highly recommended.
Escape from Camp 14: One Man's Remarkable Odyssey from North Korea to Freedom in the West by Blaine Harden
- Another incredible nonfiction account of life in North Korea, this time focussed on the prison camps. A great companion to Demick's book.
Varieties of Disturbance by Lydia Davis
- I write mostly short things. Sometimes, very short. I thought this might be a problem. Lydia Davis's work is a revelation. She writes short stuff too, and it's unforgettable. Are they essays? Are they observations? Is it fiction? I don't know, but reading her made me value my own work more, and also challenged me to do short better.
Claire of the Sea Light by Edwidge Danticat
- Gorgeous. This was the March bookclub selection and it was gorgeous. I had previously only read a short story by Danticat, and I'm so glad that the bookclub has already pushed me in new directions and toward authors I may have overlooked. In some ways this novel is really a series of tightly-linked short stories, all centered around the title character, and it works so well.
The Reluctant Communist: My Desertion, Court-Martial, and Forty-Year Imprisonment in North Korea by Charles Robert Jenkins with Jim Frederick
- The last in my trifecta of nonfiction books about North Korea, this one is the memoir of an American soldier who defected in the '60s thinking he would be sent home to the United States (and avoid serving in Vietnam). Instead he ended up spending most of his adult life in North Korea--teaching English, occasionally acting in films, and eventually marrying a Japanese abductee and having children. I couldn't miss such a unique perspective on that country.
The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman
- I had read the first chapter of this book at least twice before, but this time I kept going and I'm so glad I did. Rachman weaves the history of an American newspaper based in Rome with stories from the lives of those working at it during its last gasps for relevance and profitability. My favorite character was the reader, Ornella de Monterecchi, a sort of Miss Havisham character with a happier ending.
Purple Hibiscus by Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie
- A completely engaging novel set in Adichie's native Nigeria. I will be starting her latest novel, Americanah, for next month's bookclub but having only read one of her longer short stories previously, I wanted to get a fuller feel for her work. My library shelves it in YA Fiction, but even if you don't generally read young adult lit, this book is worth the time.
Show Your Work! by Austin Kleon
- This is the follow up to Kleon's bestselling Steal Like an Artist. He's just at the start of his book tour and I picked this one up at his reading at Politics & Prose here in DC. It's a quick guide to the opposite of self-promotion, and full of awesome quotes and Kleon's own doodles. As a writer/doodler myself, I enjoyed it. Probably my favorite piece of advice is to read obituaries.
Sanctuary by William Faulkner
- English major shame alert. Sanctuary is the first book by Faulkner I've ever managed end to end. (I tried Absalom Absalom in high school and As I Lay Dying in undergrad. I failed.) And it was a struggle for me, which adds to my shame since Faulkner essentially said of it that it was smut he wrote for money. I didn't enjoy it exactly, but it did pick up pace in the second half, and there were passages, like the one where three old madams sit around commiserating, that stood out for me in their brilliance.
And Now Tomorrow by Rachel Field
- The first book in my New York Times Bestseller Project! And Now Tomorrow follows the fortunes of narrator Emily Blair, the daughter of a family grown wealthy through the family business: running a textile mill. Initially I thought the story was going to be about the loss of her mother, or the family's experience of World War I, but finally I discovered, around a third of the way through, what it was really about--hearing loss, love, and labor rights during the Great Depression. I won't say more since I'll be giving a more detailed review in a post coming soon.
Additionally, you can check out my Goodreads profile (link above) for a full accounting of this quarter's picture books. (There were more than 50. I usually let her pillage the board books section at the library and we bring home sacks and sacks of stuff, pretty much anything that she pulls off the shelf.)
*"clinically" may be too strong if not inaccurate entirely