Where I share my love of books with reviews, features, giveaways and memes. Family and needlepoint are thrown in from time to time.
Showing posts with label Karen White. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karen White. Show all posts

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Book Review: The Night the Lights Went Out by Karen White





Title: The Night the Lights Went Out
Author: Karen White
Publisher: Berkley
Publication Date: April 11, 2017

About the book:  Set in the gilded realm of Sweet Apple, Georgia, THE NIGHT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT achieves a magnetic sense of place, and with good reason—it is the first novel White, the “Queen of southern fiction” (Huffington Post), has set in her own community, the affluent suburbs of Atlanta. She puts you in the carpool line made up of giant SUVs and has you rolling your eyes at the Head Mom in Charge’s passive aggressive tactics, bless her heart.


In THE NIGHT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT, recently divorced Merilee Talbot Dunlap moves with her two children to Sweet Apple, Georgia. It’s not her first time starting over, but her new beginning isn’t helped by an anonymous local blog that reveals for the whole town the scandalous affair that caused her marriage to fail. And Merilee’s new landlord, the proud, irascible, Atlanta born-and-bred 93-year-old Sugar Prescott, certainly isn’t helping.

But off Sugar’s property, Merilee finds herself swallowed into the town’s most elite ranks—its inner circle of wealthy school moms—thanks to her blossoming friendship with the belle of Sweet Apple, Heather Blackford. But behind the tennis whites, shiny SUVs, and immaculate women, lurk generations of secrets and resentments. And Merilee quickly learns that, in a town where appearance is everything, sins and secrets can be found in equal measure in the dark woods on Sugar’s property, and within the gated mansions of her newfound friends…

~I received a complimentary e-copy of this book from Berkley via Net Galley in exchange for my honest review.~

My thoughts: I really enjoy books set in the South, they always have a different sort of feel to them.  Merilee was likable, if somewhat naive, but given her circumstances I will cut her some slack.  I loved Sugar - crusty on the outside, but very caring and loyal underneath - just don't get on her bad side!  Of course there are a couple of men in the story - Dan Blackford, "Ken to Heather's Barbie", and a successful doctor to boot! And Wade, grandson of Sugar's best friend and potential love interest for Merilee.

Full of "southernisms"  (Bless her heart. . . ) the anonymous blog/blogger lent some humor and wisdom to the goings on in Sweet Apple.  There are lots of secrets that get spilled, lots of family - much of it dysfunctional, and lots of love and loyalty.  And if you are familiar with the song that I am sure the book takes its name from, there is also murder.

It was a very quick read and I liked the way that it would jump back in time and share Sugar's history.  The intermittent blog posts were also fun to read.  Perfect for this time of year, it would be a great beach read!

Excerpt from : The Night the Lights Went Out

A cluster of moms stood in the parking lot surrounded by high-end SUVs following first day drop-off at Windwood Academy. The women appeared to be listening with rapt attention to the tall blond woman in the center of their semi-circle, her hair arranged perfectly beneath her white tennis visor, her long and lean limbs brown and glowy. Merilee noticed this last part only because her ex-mother-in-law had given her a bottle of glowy lotion for her last birthday and Lily had told her it made her look sparkly like Katy Perry in one of her videos. Merilee had thrown out the remainder of the bottle, realizing she wasn’t the type anymore to look glowy much less sparkly.

But the blonde definitely was. Her whole body glowed. Her face glowed. Even the hair visible beneath the visor appeared to be lit from within. The woman looked vaguely familiar, and Merilee realized she’d probably been one of the mothers she’d met at the open house the previous week. She’d only been to the one let’s-get-acquainted event, her work schedule precluding any of the various parties that were held almost exclusively on weekdays when she worked.

Merilee was terrible with names, had been ever since she started dating Michael. He was so good at it, always reminding her who everyone was when they were at a party, that she’d simply stopped trying. She hoped she was only out of practice instead of permanently disabled. Her children’s futures probably depended on it since Michael wouldn’t be there to make sure Merilee remembered the names of Lily’s friends who were or were not speaking to each other. And which of Colin’s teachers appreciated his dreamy attitude and those who didn’t. It had always been a game with them—her recalling every detail about a friend or teacher, details always overlooked by Michael—and then he’d fill in the missing part—the name. But now she had to do it all on her own.

She smiled vaguely in the direction of the blond woman and her entourage and had almost made it to her van when she heard her name being called.

“Merilee? Merilee Dunlap?”

Great. The woman not only remembered her first name, but her last as well. Forcing a warm smile on her face, Merilee turned. “Oh, hello. It’s good to see you again.”

The other women parted like the Red Sea as the tall blond walked toward Merilee and she remembered that the woman had been wearing a Lily Pulitzer sundress and two-carat diamond stud earrings when they’d met before. But she didn’t remember her name. “I thought that was you. I looked for you in Mrs. Marshall’s homeroom. I’m the room mother and wanted to welcome Lily myself.”

Merilee remembered the voice. It was very Southern, heavily laced with dropped consonants and elongated vowels. The most memorable part about it was that it sounded exactly like Merilee’s mother.

“We were running a bit late this morning.” Feeling suddenly short and frumpy in her dark skirt and blazer, Merilee had the strong urge to explain. “My son couldn’t find his new uniform shoes. They somehow managed to find their way back into the box they came in and then got shoved so far under his bed that it took nearly twenty minutes to locate them. And then Lily spilled her bowl of cereal and milk down the front of her skirt, and I had to quickly iron one of her other ones so she could wear it.”

The woman gave her a warm smile from behind dark Chanel sunglasses as if she knew exactly what it was like to be a frazzled single mother. “Bless your heart. And on the first day at a new school. You’ll get used to the routine, I promise. It took me a whole month to realize that I should have a skirt and blouse for every school day plus one, and have Patricia have them cleaned and ironed as soon as my girls dropped them on the floor.”

Not exactly sure how to reslake, Merilee picked out the first confusing part of the sentence. “Patricia?”

“My house manager. I couldn’t live without her. You know how crazy busy it is with all of the kids’ schedules.” She reached into her large handbag that was more briefcase than purse, with a designer’s logo sprouting over its surface like kudzu. “I was going to stick this in the mail to you, but since you’re here I’ll give it to you now. It’s a sign-up sheet for parties and field trips—it lists everything for the year. Just let me know your availabilities and ask Lily to bring it in to school and give to Bailey as soon as you can. Bailey is very responsible and will make sure it gets to me.” The woman smiled, her teeth perfect. “Only sign up for four—every mother wants to be at every single event, but then it just gets crowded—plus there won’t be room on the bus for the kids.”

“Only four…” Merilee took the list and looked at it, almost letting out an audible sigh when she saw the woman’s name at the top of the page, Heather Blackford, Class Mother, followed by three different phone numbers. Now she remembered. Heather had a daughter in Colin’s class, too, both girls’ names starting with ‘B’.

“Yes. And if you could turn it back in tomorrow that would be terrific. I’ll have Claire put it all in a spreadsheet and I’ll email it to all the mothers. Please write neatly—Claire has a way of butchering your name if she can’t read it.”

“Claire?”

“My personal assistant. She’s only part time but I would simply die of exhaustion without her.”
The ladies behind her all nodded in understanding.

“Yes, well, I’ll take a look at it and get it back to you tomorrow.” Merilee was already wondering how she was going to approach her boss to ask him for more time off. The divorce and move had already eaten up all of her vacation time, and although Max was kind and understanding, everyone had their limits.

“And don’t forget the ‘I survived my first week of fourth grade’ party at my lake house this Saturday. I’ll be handing out disposable cameras to all the moms and dads to take pictures throughout the year at our various events—I like to do little photo albums for all the kids and the teachers at the end of the year.” She beamed, like it was just a small thing. “Oh, and I took the liberty of signing you up for a dessert because we’re overrun with vegetables and dip and pimiento cheese. I figured you’d know how to make something sweet.”

“Oh…” Merilee simply blinked her eyes for a moment, wondering if Heather had meant to be insulting.

“Because you’re from South Georgia. You mentioned that when we met. You said I had the same accent as your mother.”

Feeing oddly relieved, Merilee said, “Yes, of course. Where did you say you were from?”
“Here and there—but mostly Georgia. I can always tell a native Georgian. Hard to hide it, isn’t it? It’s almost like no matter how far you go in life, all you have to do is open your mouth and somebody knows exactly where you’re from.”

There was something in the way Heather said it that made Merilee pause. “Yes, well, I’ll call my mother today and ask her what she might recommend.”

“Wonderful.” Heather beamed. She pointed a key fob toward a black Porsche SUV with vanity plates that read YERSERV, and the rear door slowly raised. As the other mothers oohed and ahhed appropriately, Merilee stared into the trunk where fourteen metallic gift bags with blue or pink tissue paper expertly pleated at the tops were arranged in neat rows.

Heather moved toward the car. “A little lagniappe—that’s Cajun for ‘a little extra’ to all of my Yankee friends—for the first day of school. My treat. I thought we could each give our children a bag at pickup today and then head over to Scoops for ice cream afterwards. I’ve already reserved the party room at the back of the store. Claire is picking up the helium balloons this morning and will have it all decorated in Windwood colors.”

“You are just too much,” one of the mothers said as the other women eagerly stepped toward the car and took a bag.


Since Karen White burst onto the publishing scene, she has written eleven New York Times bestsellers, created the beloved Tradd Street series, and left readers on the edge of their seats awaiting each year’s new standalone novel. I have reviewed one of her earlier books, The Lost Hours, and have many more on my TBR list - including Flight Patterns!

FLIGHT PATTERNS tells the story of Georgia Chambers, a fine china expert who left her family years before and is forced to return home and repair the relationships she’s carefully avoided. To embrace her own life—mistakes and all—she will have to find the courage to confront the ghosts of her past and the secrets she was forced to keep.


Karen White is the New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty novels, including the Tradd Street series, The Night the Lights Went OutFlight PatternsThe Sound of GlassA Long Time Gone, and The Time Between. She is the coauthor of The Forgotton Room with New York Times bestselling authors Beatriz Williams and Lauren Willig. She grew up in London but now lives with her husband and two children near Atlanta, Georgia.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Library Loot: 12-9-2009

I have been spending way too much time at the library recently - the problem is that I have actually been combing back over all my Friday Finds and Waiting on Wednesdays and reserving them!

Library Loot is hosted by Eva at A Striped Armchair and Marg at Reading Adventures.









Dark Places by Gillian Flynn

Libby Day was seven when her mother and two sisters were murdered in "The Satan Sacrifice of Kinnakee, Kansas." As her family lay dying, little Libby fled their tiny farmhouse into the freezing January snow. She lost some fingers and toes, but she survived -- and famously testified that her fifteen-year-old brother, Ben, was the killer. Twenty-five years later, Ben sits in prison, and troubled Libby lives off the dregs of a trust created by well wishers who've long forgotten her.

The Kill Club is a macabre secret society obsessed with notorious crimes. When they locate Libby and pump her for details -- proof they hope may free Ben -- Libby hatches a plan to profit off her tragic history. For a fee, she'll reconnect with the players from that night and report her findings to the club . . . and maybe she'll admit her testimony wasn't so solid after all.

As Libby's search takes her from shabby Missouri strip clubs to abandoned Oklahoma tourist towns, the narrative flashes back to January 2, 1985. The events of that day are relayed through the eyes of Libby's doomed family members -- including Ben, a loner whose rage over his shiftless father and their failing farm have driven him into a disturbing friendship with the new girl in town. Piece by piece, the unimaginable truth emerges, and Libby finds herself right back where she started -- on the run from a killer. (inside cover)




The Girl on Legare Street by Karen White

There was a time when Melanie's dysfunctional family was out of sight and mind, and her only worries were her monthly sales figures, what shade of beige to paint her low-maintenance condo, and whether she was ready to make charming journalist Jack Trenholm a permanent fixture in her life. Those days are over.

After receiving a deadly premonition, Melanie's mother, who deserted her more than thirty years ago, suddenly returns to Charleston to protect her. But all Ginnette Prioleau Middleton does is remind Melanie of how little they have in common - except for their ability to communicate with ghosts.

And now Ginnette is moving into their ancestral home on Legare Street, and she needs Melanie's advice on restoring it and her sixth sense to talk to the dead who inhabit it. But Ginnette's return has awakened a dark spirit, whose strength has been growing for decades -- and who is ready for revenge. With Jack's help, Melanie and her mother must find a way to work together to fight the malevolent presence and save what's left of their family. (back cover)



The September Sisters by Jillian Cantor

Abigail Reed and her younger sister, Becky, are always at each other's throats. Their mother calls them the September Sisters, because their birthdays are only a day apart, and pretends that they're best friends. But really, they delight in making each other miserable. Then Becky disappears in the middle of the night, and a torn gold chain with a sapphire heart charm is the only clue to the mystery of her kidnapping. Abby struggles to cope with her own feelings of guilt and loss as she tries to keep her family together. When her world is at its bleakest, Abby meets a new neighbor, Tommy, who is dealing with his own loss, and the two of them discover that love can bloom, even when it's surrounded by thorns.

This exquisitely written first novel illustrates life as it truly is -- filled with fear and danger, hope and love, comfort and uncertainty. (inside cover)







Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Library Loot 11-04-2009

I have been spending way too much time at the library recently - the problem is that I have actually been combing back over all my Friday Finds and Waiting on Wednesdays and reserving them!

Library Loot is hosted by Eva at A Striped Armchair and Marg at Reading Adventures.









Black Swan Green by David Mitchell

From award-winning writer David Mitchell comes a sinewy, meditative novel of boyhood on the cusp of adulthood and the old on the cusp of new.

Black Swan Green tracks a single year in what is, for thirteen-year-old Jason Taylor, the sleepiest village in muddiest Worcestershire in a dying Cold War England, 1982. But the thirteen chapters, each a short story in its own right, create an exquisitely observed world that is anything but sleepy. A world of Kissingeresque realpolitik enacted in boys' games on a frozen lake; of "nightcreeping" through the summer backyards of strangers; of the tabloid-fueled thrills of the Falklands War and its human toll; of the cruel, luscious Dawn Madden and her power-hungry boyfriend, Ross Wilcox; of a certain Madame Eva van Outryve de Crommelynck, an elderly bohemian emigre who is both more and less than she appears; of Jason's search to replace his dead grandfather's irreplaceable watch before his parents discover he has smashed it; of first cigarettes, first kisses, first Duran Duran LPs, and first deaths; of Margaret Thatcher's recession; of Gypsies camping in the woods and the hysteria they inspire; and, even closer to home, of a slow-motion divorce in four seasons.

Pointed, funny, profound, left-field, elegiac, and painted with the stuff of life, Black Swan Green is David Mitchell's subtlest and most effective achievement to date. (book jacket)



The House on Tradd Street by Karen White

Practical-minded Realtor Melanie Middleton hates to admit - even to herself - that she can see ghosts. But she's going to have to accept it, because an old man she met just days ago has died, leaving Melanie his historic Tradd Street home, complete with a housekeeper, a dog, and a family of ghosts anxious to tell her something.

Enter Jack Trenholm, a gorgeous writer obsessed with unsolved mysteries. He has reason to believe that some diamonds that went missing from the Confederate treasury a century ago are hidden in Melanie's home. So he decides to charm the new tenant, only to discover that suddenly he is the smitten one.

But it turns out that Jack's search has caught the attention of a possibly malevolent ghostly presence. Now Jack and Melanie need to unravel a mystery of passion, heartbreak, and even murder. And they must hurry. . . for an eveil force - either dead or alive - lies in wait. (Back Cover)



Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro

One of the most celebrated writers of our time gives us his first cycle of short fiction: five brilliantly etched, interconnected stories in which music is a vivid and essential character.

A once-popular singer, desperate to make a comeback, turning from the one certainty in his life. . .A man whose unerring taste in music is the only thing his closest friends value in him. . .A struggling singer-songwriter unwittingly involved in the failing marriage of a couple he's only just met. . .A gifted, underappreciated jazz musician who lets himself believe that plastic surgery will help his career. . .A young cellist whose tutor promises to "unwrap" his talent. . .

Passion or necessity - or the often uneasy combination of the two - determines the place of music in each of these lives. And, in one way or another, music delivers each of them to a moment of reckoning: sometimes comic, sometimes tragic, sometimes just eluding their grasp.

An exploration of love, need, and the ineluctable force of the past, Nocturnes reveals these individuals to us with extraordinary precision and subtlety, and with arresting psychological and emotional detail that has marked all of Kazuo Ishiguro's acclaimed works of fiction. (book jacket)



Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception by Maggie Stiefvater

Sixteen-year-old Deirdre Monaghan is a prodigiously gifted musician. She's about to find out she's also a cloverhand - one who can see faeries.

Unexpectedly, Deirdre finds herself infatuated with a mysterious boy who enters her ordinary life, seemingly out of thin air. Trouble is, the enigmatic and gorgeous Luke turns out to be a gallowglass - a soulless faerie assassin - and his interest in her might be something darker than summer romance. A sinister faerie named Aodhan is also stalking Deirdre. They both carry the same assignment from the Faerie Queen, one that forces Dee right into the midst of Faerie. Caught in the crossfire with Deirdre is James, her wisecracking but loyal best friend.

Deirdre had been wishing her summer weren't so dull, but taking on a centuries-old Faerie Queen isn't exactly what she had in mind. (book cover)



A Great and Terrible Beauty (audio) by Libba Bray (read by Jo Wyatt)

Gemma Doyle isn't like other girls. Girls with impeccable manners, who speak when spoken to, who remember their station, who dance with grace, and who will lie back and think of England when it's required of them.

No, sixteen-year-old Gemma is an island unto herself, sent to the Spence Academy in London after tragedy strikes her family in India. Lonely, guilt-ridden, and prone to visions of the future that have an uncomfortable habit of coming true, Gemma finds her reception a chilly one. She's not completely alone, though. . .she's been followed by a mysterious young man, sent to warn her to close her mind against the visions.

For it's at Spence that Gemma's power to attract the supernatural unfolds; there she becomes entangled with the school's most powerful girls and discovers her mother's connection to a shadowy, timeless group called the Order. It's there that her destiny waits. . .if only Gemma can believe in it.

A Great and Terrible Beauty is a curl-up-under-the-covers kind of book. . .a vast canvas of rustling skirts and dancing shadows and things that go bump in the night. It's a vividly drawn portrait of the Victorian age, a time of strict morality and barely repressed sensuality, when girls were groomed for lives as rich men's wives. . .and the story of a girl who saw another way. (back cover)



Woman in Red (audio) by Eileen Goudge (read by Susan Ericksen)

Alice Kessler spent nine years in prison for the attempted murder of the drunk driver who killed her son. Now she's returned home to Gray's Island to reconnect with the son she left behind. Her boy, Jeremy, now a sullen teenager, is wrongly accused of rape, and mother and son are thrown together in a desperate attempt to prove his innocence.

Alice is aided by Colin McGinty, a recovering alcoholic and 9/11 widower, also recently returned to the island in the aftermath of his grandfather's death. Colin's grandfather, a famous artist, is best known for his haunting portrait Woman in Red, which happens to be of Alice's grandmother. IN a tale that weaves the past with the present, we come to know the story behind the portrait, of the forbidden wartime romance between William McGinty and Eleanor Styles, and the deadly secret that bound them more tightly than even their love for each other. A secret that, more than half a century later, is about to be unburied, as Alice and Colin are drawn into a fragile romance of their own and the ghost of an enemy from long ago surfaces in the form of his grandson, the very man responsible for sending Alice to prison. (back cover)




Library Loot is hosted by Eva at A Striped Armchair.



Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The Lost Hours by Karen White (Book Review)

Title: The Lost Hours
Author: Karen White
Publisher: Penguin
Genre: Fiction
Available: Apr 7, 2009
This book was made available to me by Dorothy for the Pump Up Your Book Virtual Tour.

If you missed Karen's guest post - you should go back and take a look - It was fabulous!

First sentence: When I was twelve years old, I helped my granddaddy bury a box in the back garden of our Savannah home.


Piper Mills has been raised by her grandparents since the age of six, when her parents were killed in a car crash. A crash that she walked away from. She goes on with her life, believing that she will be free from tragedy. Living in Savannah, her grandparents encourage her to become an equestrian. On the eve of realizing her dream of going to the Olympics, Piper takes a fall off her horse that almost kills her. Her broken bones heal, leaving her with a limp, but her broken spirit does not.

All Piper remembers of her grandmother is a woman in the background, with no spirit, no opinions, no life. She has been in a nursing home due to Alzheimer's for years. When Piper's granddaddy dies, she is give clues that lead her to believe there is more to her grandmother's story. Sadly, her grandmother dies before she can learn what that might be.

Armed with a tin box full of scrapbook pages, a key to a hidden room, an angel charm, and a knitted blue baby sweater and blanket, Piper sets off to discover the grandmother she never knew. Along the way, maybe she will reawaken the Piper that has been sleeping for so long.

This was my first Karen White book, though The House on Tradd Street has been on my TBR list for awhile. I really, truly enjoyed this book. It was so easy to become immersed in the story and to visualize Asphodel Meadows and Savannah.


Gripping the wheel tightly, I angled the car and turned, finding myself suddenly enveloped in the canopy of an ancient live oak alley. I stopped the car, looking at the old trees that barely resembled the live oaks of Savannah's squares despite the generous shawls of Spanish moss. These trees were darkened and withered, despite enough leaves to show that they were alive. But the limbs were bent and gnarled, the knobs at the forks like the bent shoulders of mourners at a funeral.(p54)
Ms. White combines tragedy, family, mystery and a touch of romance for a heartwarming story that life does go on.

And now for a little bit about the author:

They had her at hello. From her first moments in Charleston and Savannah, and on the South Carolina and Georgia coasts, novelist Karen While was in love. Was it the history, the architecture, the sound of the sea, the light, the traditions, the people, the lore? Check all of the above. Add Karen’s storytelling talent, her endless curiosity about relationships and emotions, and her sensitivity to the rhythms of the south, and it seems inevitable that this mix of passions would find its way into her work.

Known for award winning novels such as Learning to Breathe, the recently announced Southern Independent Bookseller Association’s 2009 Book of the Year Award nomination for The House on Tradd Street, and for the highly praised The Memory of Water, Karen has already shared the coastal Low country and Charleston with readers. Spanning eighty years, Karen’s new book, THE LOST HOURS, now takes them to Savannah and its environs. There a shared scrapbook and a necklace of charms unleash buried memories, opening the door to the secret lives of three women, their experiences, and the friendships that remain entwined even beyond the grave, and whose grandchildren are determined to solve the mysteries of their past.

Karen, so often inspired in her writing by architecture and history, has set much of THE LOST HOURS at Asphodel Meadows, a home and property inspired by the English Regency styled house at Hermitage Plantation along the Savannah River, and at her protagonist’s “Savannah gray brick” home in Monterey Square, one of the twenty-one squares that still exist in the city.

Italian and French by ancestry, a southerner and a storyteller by birth, Karen has lived in many different places. Born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, she has also lived in Texas, New Jersey, Louisiana, Georgia, Venezuela and England, where she attended the American School in London. She returned to the states for college and graduated from New Orleans’ Tulane University. Hailing from a family with roots firmly set in Mississippi (the Delta and Biloxi), Karen notes that “searching for home brings me to the south again and again.”

Always, Karen credits her maternal grandmother Grace Bianca, to whom she’s dedicated THE LOST HOURS, with inspiring and teaching her through the stories she shared for so many years. Karen also notes the amount of time she spent listening as adults visited in her grandmother’s Mississippi kitchen, telling stories and gossiping while she played under the table. She says it started her on the road to telling her own tales. The deal was sealed in the seventh grade when she skipped school and read Gone With The Wind. She knew—just knew—she was destined to grow up to be either Scarlet O’Hara or a writer.

Karen’s work has appeared on the South East Independent Booksellers best sellers list. Her novel The Memory of Water, was WXIA-TV’s Atlanta & Company Book Club Selection. Her work has been reviewed in Southern Living, Atlanta Magazine and by Fresh Fiction, among many others, and has been adopted by numerous independent booksellers for book club recommendations and as featured titles in their stores. This past year her 2007 novel Learning to Breathe received several honors, notably the National Readers’ Choice Award.

In addition to THE LOST HOURS, Karen White’s books include The House on Tradd Street, The Memory of Water, Learning to Breathe, Pieces of the Heart and The Color of Light. She lives in the Atlanta metro area with her family where she is putting the finishing touches on her next novel The Girl on Legare Street.
You can visit Karen White's website at www.karen-white.com.

Wondrous Words 4-22-2009


Wondrous Words Wednesday is a weekly meme where we share new (to us) words that we’ve encountered in our reading. To join in the fun, post your words on your blog and then leave a message over at Bermudaonion's Blog!


My first word this week is from The Lost Hours by Karen White.


Doyenne - used like this - I thought about writing him back to mention the borderline alcoholic doyenne of the estate, the blind daughter with a penchant for colors, the two little girls who were wise beyond their years, or their father whose odd mixture of aloofness and caring I found more attractive than I wanted to admit. (p133)


Definition - A woman who is the eldest or senior member of a group.


The following three words are from The Girl She Used to Be by David Cristofano.


Effete - used like this - I am so effete from being disarmed, I'm numb. (p74)


Definition - Depleted of vitality, force, or effectiveness; exhausted


Inimical - used like this - I am wired, like I've been drugged against my will with an inimical amount of adrenaline. (p195)


Definition - in opposition; adverse;

Insensate - used like this - Like a libidinous adolescent, I've been concerned with where and how I am going to lose my virginity, an insensate thing to scheme, in general; I should've been most concerned with if.


Definition - Foolish; witless

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Guest Post by Karen White (The Lost Hours)


I want to welcome Karen White to my blog today! She is the author of the new book - The Lost Hours. My review will follow tomorrow - but let me tell you - this is a must read book!




Confessions of a Multi-published Author


On April 7th, my 10th novel, The Lost Hours, will be published. Each book I’m able to share with readers is a dream come true, and each time I see my book in a bookstore or receive a fan letter, it’s like the first time all over again.
But getting here wasn’t easy. It’s still not what I’d call ‘easy’, but I now have wisdom and experience on my side to weather the next storm. So I thought I’d share with readers and writers alike my confessions of inadequacies and failure, and why I still open my laptop each morning hopeful and eager to write the next page.

For those writers who view your career as a hobby, or see the post-published life as one consisting of lolling about eating chocolates while dictating demands to your publisher-supplied publicist, don't read on. This is not for the faint-of-heart. However, for those writers who are striving every day to reach your goals and have come to a bump in the road that seems like Mt. Everest, please do continue reading. There is a light at the end of the tunnel (and along the way) and I can prove it. I've been there—and survived.

After my first book came out in 2000, I had a book published each year for four years. Sure, that's an accomplishment in anybody's book. I was at least climbing the ladder of success, although my paltry print-runs and publisher non-support kept me firmly planted on the bottom rung. I felt as if I were going to the prom. Sure, my date was the ugly boy with pimples, but at least I was going!

And then even my foothold on that bottom rung was shaken loose and I crashed to the floor. My publisher dropped me, stripping me of confidence and pride. I couldn't sell a book for 2 ½ years. Now, even the ugly boy didn't want to take me to the prom. I was humiliated, devastated and heartbroken. My critique partners and friends supported me when and how I needed it. They would point out how I should be proud—after all, I'd sold four books, right? At the time, all I could do was point out Tom Petty's song, Even the Losers Get Lucky Sometimes.

I was inconsolable. And I will confess now what I have never told anyone: I shed tears each and every day of those 2 ½ years. St. Jude, the patron saint of hopeless cases, became my close companion and we'd talk every day. I even thought seriously about making voodoo dolls of certain New York publishing personnel and holding them over hot flames.

Then the miracle happened. A week before Christmas of 2003, I got a phone call from my agent. She had a really great 2-book offer from a publisher that I used to only be able to dream about writing for. I think my shriek of ecstasy shattered my agent's ear drums and I'll have to use part of my advance for a hearing aid for her, but that was okay. I had a contract. And I say that in the same revered tones as a person would say, "I'm pregnant," or "chocolate is calorie-free."

So, my advice for all of you writers who have hit a bump? Have faith. Have faith in a higher authority that things are working out the way they should. Have faith in your abilities as a writer. Then go do. Keep writing. You can't sell that next book if it's not written. Read books out of your genre. Take a writing class to hone your skills. Help others. It takes the focus off of yourself for a while and makes you feel better. Hang out with your friends and people who love you. They are a marvelous buffer against the mean people out there.

Then, do what I'm doing. Confess. It's cathartic for me, and I'm hoping that I might just inspire some people to keep going—regardless of what career ladder they’re climbing. A friend of mine sent me an inspirational quote that I keep by my computer. I say it out loud every day and so should you. "When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."

I know that it's inevitable that I'll hit a rough spot in my career again. But I've found the survival basics I'll need to get through it the next time. Remember: have faith. And voodoo dolls couldn't hurt, either.



Please come back tomorrow to learn a little more about the author and to get my opinion of The Lost Hours! Thanks Karen!

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Mailbox Monday 3-23-09


Before you look at the books that I got - make some books appear in your mailbox! Check out the memoir giveaways from Hachette either in my right sidebar or here and here.

Here are some books from my mailbox!

Katt's in the Cradle by Ginger Kolbaba and Christy Scannell was received for a First Wild Card Tour. It has already been read and reviewed here.







Deadly Charms by Claudia Mair Burney was also received for a First Wild Card Tour. I have started this book and will be posting my review on Thursday - come back and check it out.

Description: When the ominous Thunders roll into Dr. Amanda Bell Brown's town, the sassy sleuth sees a storm brewing. Disgraced playboy preacher Ezekiel Thunder and his seductive first lady, Nikki, are on the comeback trail, but Bell is less than charmed by the pair. When their toddler, Baby Zeekie, is found dead from an accidental drowning, forensic psychologist Bell suspects foul play in the fatal family, especially after the mama in mourning flirts with Bell's estranged husband, Jazz. Bell is sickened by the woman's behavior and the thought of someone murdering an innocent child -- or is it morning sickness that's plaguing her? Between babies and bodies, she pushes past the limits to discover the deadly truth.






Yesterday's Embers by Deborah Raney was received for a First Wild Card Tour that is happening on Friday. Come back and see my review then!

From book cover: He never thought he'd be widowed. . .with five young children.

She never thought she'd be thirty and still single.

But is falling in need the same thing as falling in love?

On Thanksgiving Day, Douglas DeVore kissed his beloved wife good-bye, unaware that it would be the last time he'd see her-or their precious daughter Rachel. Left with five kids to raise on his own, and already juggling two jobs to make ends meet, Doug wonders how he'll manage moment by moment, much less day after day, without Kaye's love and support.

When Mickey Valdez, a daycare teacher, hears of the tragedy, she offers to lend a helping hand. After all, it isn't like she has a family of her own waiting for her at home. Her brothers are all happily married, but love seems to have passed her by.

Then a spark ignites. . .but will the flame be too hot to handle.





Hunger: A Gone Novel by Michael Grant was received from Harper Collins/Teen through Shelf Awareness.

The food ran out weeks ago. Kids are starving, but no one wants to come up with a solution. And each day, more and more kids are evolving, developing supernatural abilities that set them apart from the kids without powers.

Tension rises, and when an unthinkable tragedy occurs, chaos descends upon the town. It's the normal kids against the mutants. Each kid is out for himself, and even the good ones turn murderous.

But a larger problem looms. The Darkness, a sinister creature that has lived buried deep in the hills, begins calling to some of the teens in the FAYZ. Calling to them, guiding them, manipulating them.

The Darkness has awakened. And it is hungry.







The Lost Hours by Karen White I received after posting about it in a Waiting on Wednesday post. I am going to be hosting the author here around April 20th. So please come back and meet her!

Every woman should have a daughter to tell her stories to. Otherwise, the lessons learned are as useless as spare buttons from a discarded shirt. And all that is left is a fading name and the shape of a nose or the color of hair. The men who write the history books will tell you the stories of battles and conquests. But the women will tell you the stories of people's hearts.

Surviving the tragic accident that killed her parents has always made Piper Mills feel invincible. That is, until fate strikes again and a near-fatal fall from a horse destroys her dreams o becoming an Olympic equestrian. Feeling more fragile than ever, Piper returns to Savannah, and to the home she inherited from her grandparents, to retreat, recover, and reflect on all that she has lost.

It's during her recuperation that Piper discovers a secret room and torn pages from an old scrapbook that allude to a tragedy in her grandmother's past. Determined to untangle the mystery, Piper tracks down her grandmother's childhood friend, a woman named Lily, who clearly knows he truth - and the dark secrets hidden in the house. But Lily has secrets f her own - secrets she believes are better left forgotten. And for Piper to unearth the truth, she will have to be willing to open her heart to new relationships, heal the heartaches of the past, and find the courage to embrace the future.





And the last one I have time for tonight - When Skateboards Will Be Free by Said Sayrafiezadeh. I received this from Random House through Shelf Awareness.

With a profound gift for capturing the absurd in life, and a deadpan wisdom that comes from surviving a surreal childhood in the Socialist Workers Party, Said Sayrafiezadeh has crafted an unsentimental, funny, heartbreaking memoir.

Said's Iranian-born father and American Jewish mother had one thing in common: their unshakable conviction that the workers' revolution was coming. Separated since their son was nine months old, they each pursued a dream of the perfect socialist society. Pinballing with his mother between makeshift Pittsburgh apartments, falling asleep at party meetings, longing for the luxuries he's taught to despise, Said waits for the revolution that never, ever arrives. "Soon," is mother assures him, while his long-absent father quixotically runs as a socialist candidate for president in an Iran about to fall under the ayatollahs. Then comes the hostage crisis. The uproar that follows is the first time Said hears the word "Iran" in school. There he is suddenly forced to confront the combustible stew of hi identity: as an American, an Iranian, a Jew, a socialist. . .and a middle-school kid who loves football and video games.

Poised perfectly between tragedy and farce, here is a story by a brilliant young writer struggling to break away from the powerful mythologies of his upbringing and create a life - and a voice - of his own. Said Sayrafiezadeh's memoir is unforgettable.

Friday, March 20, 2009

The Friday 56 - 3-20-2009


Rules:
* Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
* Turn to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post that sentence (plus one or two others if you like) along with these instructions on your blog or (if you do not have your own blog) in the comments section of Storytime with Tonya and Friends.
*Post a link along with your post back to Storytime with Tonya and Friends.
* Don't dig for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual. Use the CLOSEST.
"Did you notice our trees? They spook people the first time they see them."
(From the Lost Hours by Karen White)

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