Paperback from Amazon.com - $11.20
Fiction
Buy it if: Harry Potter meets The Sixth Sense with Jack Bauer’s bad luck piques your interest
Don’t buy it if: You’re really put off by authors that use clichés. Or you’re just emotionally dead inside...
I really don’t care for Dean Koontz. It’s tempting to call him bargain basement Stephen King, but that’s not really fair either. There are some (OK, maybe more than some) similarities between the two authors, sure. And a fair amount of Koontz does read like streamlined and gutted King. Literary nuance? Out. Graphic descriptions? In. But I like Odd Thomas. I like Odd Thomas a lot. And as result, I like the book Odd Thomas a lot, too. That’s right, Odd Thomas is the main character’s name. And while it smacks of hackery, for a teenage orphan with the supernatural ability to see dead people (not quite in a Sixth Sense kind of way, but damn close) it does work - even if you desperately want it not to.
It’s true, on the surface the book has nothing going for it – clichéd characters with more clichéd names, wildly successful societal outcasts who play the boy’s benefactors, people with hearts of gold that are a little too pure. But I’ll be damned…it just works. Why? Because there’s a story. It may be far-fetched, it may be a little convoluted, it may even be a bit predictable…but it’s refreshing to hold a good story in your hands from time to time, and that’s exactly what Odd Thomas is. Take it as the world’s longest campfire tale. Put snacks in a bowl, curl up under a blanket and just take in the simple enjoyment that comes from an enchanting narrative. Our friend Dean takes most the successful page from the J.K. Rowling playbook and runs with it: Fantastic characters in strange situations with nothing but pure yarn weaving from introduction to conclusion. Is it done as well as the Harry Potter stuff? Of course not. But it’s still a very ‘story-centric’ piece of writing, which is probably rarer than you realize…
In fairness, Odd Thomas is only the first book in a series that currently includes three other volumes. And with each passing chronicle the characters wear a little bit thinner and miss out on a touch of growth. It’s disappointing given how endearing they are in this first piece. I can’t help but wish Koontz used just a little more innovation when he fleshed them out as they’ve been getting a little bit flimsy of late...
As for the next three, Forever Odd, Brother Odd, and Odd Hours (can you spot the titular theme?) I wouldn’t recommend them on their own. But a big part of me fell in love with the main character from go and I want to see how he turns out, so I’m sticking to the franchise, warts and all. Bruce promised me that ‘faith will be rewarded’ and I’m hoping that’s true.
I know I haven’t painted the rosiest picture here, but I have to say - objective problems aside - Odd Thomas DOES have the very rarest quality of all: It makes you care about the characters. Most of the time I put down a novel and the people contained within simply cease to be. Once there for my entertainment they vanish after the final page is turned. But every once in a while you can be made to care to about these fantasms that exist only where ink meets paper. This is uncommon and exciting...and somehow Dean Koontz manages to imbue this story with just that type of emotional involvement. It’s a sucker-punch of literary achievement that I didn’t see coming. And in the end…yeah, I cared about poor little Odd. And I bet you will, too…
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Better – Atul Gawande
Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon - $10.98
Extra Super Nerdy Award: Lewis Skolnick
Buy if if: You’re curious about medicine and ethics
Don’t buy it if: You find no joy in frank discussion about the medical field
I’m not entirely sure what made Atul Gawande decide to give writing a shot. You’d have to think that becoming a very successful and respected surgeon is a pretty decent accomplishment in and of itself. Fortunately for the rest of us, Gawande saw enough in his medical experiences to encourage his own documentation. First in Complications: A Surgeon’s Notes on an Imperfect Science, and now in Better, he looks at how medical professionals across the globe are exceeding the limits of what was previously assumed impossible and the role of ethics and standards in medicine.
The stories alone make fascinating reading for anyone with an interest in medical technology and/or healthcare disparities around the globe. But Better really shines while investigating how this improvement is achieved by doctors from Minnesota to India. The story of Drs. Warwick’s and Matthews’ drastic improvement of cystic fibrosis life expectancy is remarkable, a tribute to just how much can be gained by continual and rapt attention to detail. But the invention of laprascopic ulcer repair by a doctor working in the small, Indian village of Motewar borders on the miraculous.
Some medical breakthroughs are impressive enough coming from big city hospitals that have been loaded to the brim with doctors from the world’s best universities… But to then ascribe breakthroughs to men working on a shoestring in a village where clean water is a luxury? It does sound like a miracle. Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth…
And that is exactly the point that Gawande makes continually over the course of his book. That these ‘miracles’ are anything but. Instead, they are very conscious and concerted efforts to do everything better than it’s been done before. Like the jar so full of sand that you assume nothing else could fit…until you pour in water. Better explores the medical personalities who refuse to accept that certain techniques, technologies or curatives have been ‘maxed out.’ It highlights those who would seek to find improvement where others haven’t and in doing so simultaneously awes and inspires a reader. Not to mention opening their eyes to a fascinating set of circumstances and medical achievement…
Hopefully I’ll never get to personally test Gawande’s surgical skills, but I’m duly impressed by his writing. I has a very ‘BBC print’ feel to it. Not sterile, but clean and elegant. There’s passion there, but it’s subdued and set nicely into the facts. He lets situations speak for themselves. If you’ve ever heard a BBC 2 Radio news program, you’ll know exactly the tone I'm describing… In it’s restraint the emotion of the writing tends to be more poignant as the importance inherent to some of these procedures and goals becomes more pronounced, a result of their excellent presentation. Moving beyond medical procedures, he also covers issues ranging from malpractice to patient privacy to the very fascinating conundrum that is the role of doctors in state executions. Gawande tackles these big questions with depth, reserve and candor. It’s writing at its finest..
More impressive is the author's personal stake in the dilemmas he presents. He’s a doctor himself. As a practicing surgeon, it’s his responsibility to take these issues to heart more than anyone. He gives thoughtful consideration to things like what a doctor owes society and what in turn society owes a doctor. Broaching the subject of money is a brave move, but a fair one and it’s refreshing to hear someone discuss it with the balance he does.
For my money, you'd be hard pressed to find a more precise, yet passionate look at these subjects in a mainstream bookstore. The scope of the book is wide enough to maintain a diversity of interests, yet still allow a discrete and focused concentration on the details. Coupled this breadth with a superb writing style it becomes difficult to find a better work of non-fiction at any bookstore.
Paperback from Amazon - $10.98
Extra Super Nerdy Award: Lewis Skolnick
Buy if if: You’re curious about medicine and ethics
Don’t buy it if: You find no joy in frank discussion about the medical field
I’m not entirely sure what made Atul Gawande decide to give writing a shot. You’d have to think that becoming a very successful and respected surgeon is a pretty decent accomplishment in and of itself. Fortunately for the rest of us, Gawande saw enough in his medical experiences to encourage his own documentation. First in Complications: A Surgeon’s Notes on an Imperfect Science, and now in Better, he looks at how medical professionals across the globe are exceeding the limits of what was previously assumed impossible and the role of ethics and standards in medicine.
The stories alone make fascinating reading for anyone with an interest in medical technology and/or healthcare disparities around the globe. But Better really shines while investigating how this improvement is achieved by doctors from Minnesota to India. The story of Drs. Warwick’s and Matthews’ drastic improvement of cystic fibrosis life expectancy is remarkable, a tribute to just how much can be gained by continual and rapt attention to detail. But the invention of laprascopic ulcer repair by a doctor working in the small, Indian village of Motewar borders on the miraculous.
Some medical breakthroughs are impressive enough coming from big city hospitals that have been loaded to the brim with doctors from the world’s best universities… But to then ascribe breakthroughs to men working on a shoestring in a village where clean water is a luxury? It does sound like a miracle. Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth…
And that is exactly the point that Gawande makes continually over the course of his book. That these ‘miracles’ are anything but. Instead, they are very conscious and concerted efforts to do everything better than it’s been done before. Like the jar so full of sand that you assume nothing else could fit…until you pour in water. Better explores the medical personalities who refuse to accept that certain techniques, technologies or curatives have been ‘maxed out.’ It highlights those who would seek to find improvement where others haven’t and in doing so simultaneously awes and inspires a reader. Not to mention opening their eyes to a fascinating set of circumstances and medical achievement…
Hopefully I’ll never get to personally test Gawande’s surgical skills, but I’m duly impressed by his writing. I has a very ‘BBC print’ feel to it. Not sterile, but clean and elegant. There’s passion there, but it’s subdued and set nicely into the facts. He lets situations speak for themselves. If you’ve ever heard a BBC 2 Radio news program, you’ll know exactly the tone I'm describing… In it’s restraint the emotion of the writing tends to be more poignant as the importance inherent to some of these procedures and goals becomes more pronounced, a result of their excellent presentation. Moving beyond medical procedures, he also covers issues ranging from malpractice to patient privacy to the very fascinating conundrum that is the role of doctors in state executions. Gawande tackles these big questions with depth, reserve and candor. It’s writing at its finest..
More impressive is the author's personal stake in the dilemmas he presents. He’s a doctor himself. As a practicing surgeon, it’s his responsibility to take these issues to heart more than anyone. He gives thoughtful consideration to things like what a doctor owes society and what in turn society owes a doctor. Broaching the subject of money is a brave move, but a fair one and it’s refreshing to hear someone discuss it with the balance he does.
For my money, you'd be hard pressed to find a more precise, yet passionate look at these subjects in a mainstream bookstore. The scope of the book is wide enough to maintain a diversity of interests, yet still allow a discrete and focused concentration on the details. Coupled this breadth with a superb writing style it becomes difficult to find a better work of non-fiction at any bookstore.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Born Standing Up - Steve Martin
In paperback from Amazon.com - $10.20
Buy it if: You’re in the mood for an elegantly written memoir with a more-than-decent self-exploration slant
Don’t buy it if: You want to find out whether working with Martin Short gets annoying
Perhaps the oddest thing about reading an autobiography is the sense that you’re reading an unfinished story. Picking up a book like Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up makes me wary. They always remind me of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Greatest Hits’ or Howard Stern’s Private Parts, two works that seem to offer very good career retrospectives – except that Bruce and Howard each had major career milestones after their respective releases! ‘Greatest Hits’ is missing selections from the six studio albums that have followed hence and Stern hasn’t touched pen to paper since his move to satellite radio.
Steve Martin, no literary slouch, avoids these shortcomings by taking a cue from the Eagles, who cleverly labeled a multi-platinum monster ‘Their Greatest Hits 1971 – 1975.’ It covers a specified era, no more, no less. And it’s a much fairer retrospective assessment as a result.
Born Standing Up takes the same approach. Martin’s film career is mentioned in passing, but rarely with elaboration. Instead, he chooses to focus on the trajectory that led him to and through his surprisingly short and massively successful career in stand up comedy. From perfecting sleight-of-hand behind the counter of a Disneyland magic shop to sold out nights at the Nassau Coliseum, it’s a uniquely American story that is as tied to its era as it is the country.
These days celebrity memoirs seem to come out on a daily basis, as often driven by current events as they are a desire to understand the motivations and intricacies of their subjects. Lost of ton of weight? Write a memoir. (I’m talking to you Valerie Bertinelli) Achieve an athletic feat? Write a memoir. (Michael Phelps released his first tome after the 2004 Olympics) So it’s nice to see that Steve Martin appreciates the perspective one gains by letting some time elapse - in his case, over two decades’ worth. It lends the book a sense of considered analysis and the reading is well-served by his own patience.
And while it’s not to say that there aren’t funny bits in the writing – there are, and the humor is decidedly dry and Martin-esque when present – please don’t mistake this for a Seinlangugae-like collection of stand-up style pieces converted for the written page. Instead, what you get is a concise and quick-paced look at the motivations and tribulations of a hugely successful comedian, delivered with the objectivity a distantanced biographer might bring to such a project, but tempered with the unique first person perspective that only an autobiography can have… It’s really a wonderful combination that makes the style of the writing at least as compelling as the its subject.
Martin is psychologically experimenting on himself successfully and is very deliberate with attempts to neither sugar-coat his screw-ups nor downplay his successes. It’s a rare case of perspective that really shows a man giving a portion of his life candid consideration. While it’s very tempting to complain about the huge gaps where his personal life should be, we have to assume that these omissions were very intentional, and it only lends more validity to the subject matter he does tackle.
A fascinating narrative that delivers precisely because of its limited scope, Born Standing Up is a fast read that offers a rare analytical and warm take on the what can be a very confusing subject: oneself.
Buy it if: You’re in the mood for an elegantly written memoir with a more-than-decent self-exploration slant
Don’t buy it if: You want to find out whether working with Martin Short gets annoying
Perhaps the oddest thing about reading an autobiography is the sense that you’re reading an unfinished story. Picking up a book like Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up makes me wary. They always remind me of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Greatest Hits’ or Howard Stern’s Private Parts, two works that seem to offer very good career retrospectives – except that Bruce and Howard each had major career milestones after their respective releases! ‘Greatest Hits’ is missing selections from the six studio albums that have followed hence and Stern hasn’t touched pen to paper since his move to satellite radio.
Steve Martin, no literary slouch, avoids these shortcomings by taking a cue from the Eagles, who cleverly labeled a multi-platinum monster ‘Their Greatest Hits 1971 – 1975.’ It covers a specified era, no more, no less. And it’s a much fairer retrospective assessment as a result.
Born Standing Up takes the same approach. Martin’s film career is mentioned in passing, but rarely with elaboration. Instead, he chooses to focus on the trajectory that led him to and through his surprisingly short and massively successful career in stand up comedy. From perfecting sleight-of-hand behind the counter of a Disneyland magic shop to sold out nights at the Nassau Coliseum, it’s a uniquely American story that is as tied to its era as it is the country.
These days celebrity memoirs seem to come out on a daily basis, as often driven by current events as they are a desire to understand the motivations and intricacies of their subjects. Lost of ton of weight? Write a memoir. (I’m talking to you Valerie Bertinelli) Achieve an athletic feat? Write a memoir. (Michael Phelps released his first tome after the 2004 Olympics) So it’s nice to see that Steve Martin appreciates the perspective one gains by letting some time elapse - in his case, over two decades’ worth. It lends the book a sense of considered analysis and the reading is well-served by his own patience.
And while it’s not to say that there aren’t funny bits in the writing – there are, and the humor is decidedly dry and Martin-esque when present – please don’t mistake this for a Seinlangugae-like collection of stand-up style pieces converted for the written page. Instead, what you get is a concise and quick-paced look at the motivations and tribulations of a hugely successful comedian, delivered with the objectivity a distantanced biographer might bring to such a project, but tempered with the unique first person perspective that only an autobiography can have… It’s really a wonderful combination that makes the style of the writing at least as compelling as the its subject.
Martin is psychologically experimenting on himself successfully and is very deliberate with attempts to neither sugar-coat his screw-ups nor downplay his successes. It’s a rare case of perspective that really shows a man giving a portion of his life candid consideration. While it’s very tempting to complain about the huge gaps where his personal life should be, we have to assume that these omissions were very intentional, and it only lends more validity to the subject matter he does tackle.
A fascinating narrative that delivers precisely because of its limited scope, Born Standing Up is a fast read that offers a rare analytical and warm take on the what can be a very confusing subject: oneself.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
One L - Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton
One L - Scott Turow
Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon - $11.16
Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton
Non-Fiction
Hardcover from Amazon - $5.99!! (It's on sale right now!)
Buy them if: You want a travelogue-style look at the upper echelon graduate education
Don’t buy them if: You’re on the fence about attending business or law school and want some reassurance…
It’s a Hah-vahd two-fer!
It’s quite a testament to both the institution and students that both One L author Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve author Phillip Broughton can publish these two books over 30 years apart, detailing experiences at two different Harvard graduate schools, and sound so remarkably like each other. The similarities that crop up between a law student in the mid-70’s and a business student midway through the first decade of the 21st century really hammer home this point - 'The more things change, the more they stay the same.' And while that phrase often has a negative connotation, I would say that when it comes to maintaining a tradition of academic excellence, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.
Of course, ‘academic excellence’ is really just a supposition, a reputation gained over the years and firmly attached to the Harvard name. Naturally, both authors are aware of this – and fully admit to reputation playing a significant part in their choice of school – but it’s their ability to look beyond the name and demonstrate what really lies at the core of this learning environment, good and bad, that make both One L and Ahead of the Curve such interesting pieces.
One L is the story of Turow’s first year at Harvard Law, one of the most rigorous academic years to be found in the world, while Ahead of the Curve details Broughton’s two years at the same institution’s MBA program. (Though his first year is given much more emphasis than his second.) Each relates their experience over the course of the books through anecdotes and observation, leaving the reader with a picture that, while perhaps technically incomplete and lacking in breadth of experience, is rich with the depth that can only come from personal experience.
Ironically, the books both have the feel of a travelogue. I say ‘ironically’ because each makes it a point to demonstrate how much time students at these schools spend staying in one place. But despite existing solely inside the ‘Harvard bubble,’ there is a journey here and each man sets off as you would for any other trip, with minimal equipment, a bit of family and plenty of trepidation.
For those who find joy in the details, neither book will disappoint. Fortunately, neither writer makes the mistake of providing lofty overviews of the schools. If that’s what you want, Harvard certainly publishes prospective student guides. What Turow and Burroughs DO give us is a worm’s eye view of the things you won’t get from a school catalog. The odd tradition of ‘Skydecks’ in the business school, where those from the back tiers of the classroom give out satirical awards to fellow classmates. Or perhaps the practice of hissing those in class who breach the social contract at Harvard Law? Strange, but true. The inclusions of these idiosyncrasies are vivid touches that demonstrate the oddities that emerge in even the most prestigious academic settings. I’m still not sure if these strange occurrences make the ivory tower that is Harvard more or less approachable, but as a reader, they bring about more fascination than I would have ever suspected. It’s enough to make me urgently curious about what weird stuff is hidden behind the walls of the Wharton School of Business or in the seminars of Georgetown Law.
Like all stressed out students the authors experience numerous ups and downs, and each is thrifty enough with their words to provide us with just enough context to understand them. We’re not made to sit through much academic jargon, only given enough to pique a curiosity in the subject at hand and understand the reasons behind behaviors and emotions. Indeed, though each author admits to changing names and combining personalities and incidents, the other characters are crucial to the stories being told here. The broad and diverse canvas of personalities at Harvard provides heroes, villains, sinners and saints. They’re enjoyable, human and even a little surprising.
I do believe there’s a natural, human inclination to look back with rosy hindsight at the difficulties we encounter. After all, it’s so much easier to downgrade a challenge upon completion. Or to recall negativity but blow it off as overwrought and unnecessary with a more distant perspective. That Burroughs and Murow avoid this is perhaps the single greatest strength of these books. Someone cavalierly explaining away a mental beat down as severe as Harvard grad school is misleading at best, boring at worst. Yet both authors write with a present feel that is fantastic and riveting. At times Murow quotes directly from the journal he kept in school and the desperation, fear and pessimism contained in these passages borders on disturbing. And THAT’s what keeps you coming back. It’s not quite the same as slowing for a car-wreck, but it’s damn close. For those who can’t decide if business or law school is for you, proceed through these sections of text with caution…
Like a topical ointment, results may vary amongst individuals, but I personally think the juxtaposition of each author’s unique experience within the framework of a set curriculum makes for captivating reading. Thankfully, each writer possesses skill with the written word and the text moves efficiently, at an ‘interest-maintaining’ pace... (Murow has gone on to author best-selling novels since his stint at HLS, and Burroughs came from a journalism background before pursuing his business education. Yeah, they know what they’re doing when it comes to arranging words...) Neither entered the schools intending to find book fodder, but found their experiences interesting enough to warrant these publications. I can’t help but wonder how many other stories belong to each of their classmates, but I am grateful that these two had both the skill and inclination to share theirs… Without being preachy, melodramatic or even egocentric, these books have captured the spirit, humour and downright terror of a Harvard graduate education. Would I want to go? Maybe, maybe not…but they’ve given me an awful lot to think about. And isn’t that exactly what schools and books are for?
Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon - $11.16
Ahead of the Curve - Phillip Broughton
Non-Fiction
Hardcover from Amazon - $5.99!! (It's on sale right now!)
Buy them if: You want a travelogue-style look at the upper echelon graduate education
Don’t buy them if: You’re on the fence about attending business or law school and want some reassurance…
It’s a Hah-vahd two-fer!
It’s quite a testament to both the institution and students that both One L author Scott Turow and Ahead of the Curve author Phillip Broughton can publish these two books over 30 years apart, detailing experiences at two different Harvard graduate schools, and sound so remarkably like each other. The similarities that crop up between a law student in the mid-70’s and a business student midway through the first decade of the 21st century really hammer home this point - 'The more things change, the more they stay the same.' And while that phrase often has a negative connotation, I would say that when it comes to maintaining a tradition of academic excellence, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.
Of course, ‘academic excellence’ is really just a supposition, a reputation gained over the years and firmly attached to the Harvard name. Naturally, both authors are aware of this – and fully admit to reputation playing a significant part in their choice of school – but it’s their ability to look beyond the name and demonstrate what really lies at the core of this learning environment, good and bad, that make both One L and Ahead of the Curve such interesting pieces.
One L is the story of Turow’s first year at Harvard Law, one of the most rigorous academic years to be found in the world, while Ahead of the Curve details Broughton’s two years at the same institution’s MBA program. (Though his first year is given much more emphasis than his second.) Each relates their experience over the course of the books through anecdotes and observation, leaving the reader with a picture that, while perhaps technically incomplete and lacking in breadth of experience, is rich with the depth that can only come from personal experience.
Ironically, the books both have the feel of a travelogue. I say ‘ironically’ because each makes it a point to demonstrate how much time students at these schools spend staying in one place. But despite existing solely inside the ‘Harvard bubble,’ there is a journey here and each man sets off as you would for any other trip, with minimal equipment, a bit of family and plenty of trepidation.
For those who find joy in the details, neither book will disappoint. Fortunately, neither writer makes the mistake of providing lofty overviews of the schools. If that’s what you want, Harvard certainly publishes prospective student guides. What Turow and Burroughs DO give us is a worm’s eye view of the things you won’t get from a school catalog. The odd tradition of ‘Skydecks’ in the business school, where those from the back tiers of the classroom give out satirical awards to fellow classmates. Or perhaps the practice of hissing those in class who breach the social contract at Harvard Law? Strange, but true. The inclusions of these idiosyncrasies are vivid touches that demonstrate the oddities that emerge in even the most prestigious academic settings. I’m still not sure if these strange occurrences make the ivory tower that is Harvard more or less approachable, but as a reader, they bring about more fascination than I would have ever suspected. It’s enough to make me urgently curious about what weird stuff is hidden behind the walls of the Wharton School of Business or in the seminars of Georgetown Law.
Like all stressed out students the authors experience numerous ups and downs, and each is thrifty enough with their words to provide us with just enough context to understand them. We’re not made to sit through much academic jargon, only given enough to pique a curiosity in the subject at hand and understand the reasons behind behaviors and emotions. Indeed, though each author admits to changing names and combining personalities and incidents, the other characters are crucial to the stories being told here. The broad and diverse canvas of personalities at Harvard provides heroes, villains, sinners and saints. They’re enjoyable, human and even a little surprising.
I do believe there’s a natural, human inclination to look back with rosy hindsight at the difficulties we encounter. After all, it’s so much easier to downgrade a challenge upon completion. Or to recall negativity but blow it off as overwrought and unnecessary with a more distant perspective. That Burroughs and Murow avoid this is perhaps the single greatest strength of these books. Someone cavalierly explaining away a mental beat down as severe as Harvard grad school is misleading at best, boring at worst. Yet both authors write with a present feel that is fantastic and riveting. At times Murow quotes directly from the journal he kept in school and the desperation, fear and pessimism contained in these passages borders on disturbing. And THAT’s what keeps you coming back. It’s not quite the same as slowing for a car-wreck, but it’s damn close. For those who can’t decide if business or law school is for you, proceed through these sections of text with caution…
Like a topical ointment, results may vary amongst individuals, but I personally think the juxtaposition of each author’s unique experience within the framework of a set curriculum makes for captivating reading. Thankfully, each writer possesses skill with the written word and the text moves efficiently, at an ‘interest-maintaining’ pace... (Murow has gone on to author best-selling novels since his stint at HLS, and Burroughs came from a journalism background before pursuing his business education. Yeah, they know what they’re doing when it comes to arranging words...) Neither entered the schools intending to find book fodder, but found their experiences interesting enough to warrant these publications. I can’t help but wonder how many other stories belong to each of their classmates, but I am grateful that these two had both the skill and inclination to share theirs… Without being preachy, melodramatic or even egocentric, these books have captured the spirit, humour and downright terror of a Harvard graduate education. Would I want to go? Maybe, maybe not…but they’ve given me an awful lot to think about. And isn’t that exactly what schools and books are for?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Raising the Bar – Gary Erickson (founder of Clif Bar)
Non-fiction
Paperback from Amazon.com – $13.57
Buy it if: You love inspirational posters
Don’t buy it if: You’re expecting a detailed and thorough business profile
I’m a huge sucker for business profiles…the more obscure the better. (In fact, expect an upcoming review of the fascinating The Box, history of the modern shipping container. Yes…I’m serious.) So, the idea of a business profile - written by the founder! - of a product I use and enjoy? And it comes recommended to me by a few different people? Sounds like win-win-win-win to me!
I’m sorry to say Raising the Bar just didn’t do it for me. I’m more disappointed than anything, because I like the Clif Bar company. I like the ethos, I like its ‘green’ aspirations, and I like its support of local sports. From the sound of it, Gary Erickson and I would probably get along famously. Unfortunately the telling of the Clif Bar story falls short, which is sad because I have no doubt that there is a great story in there somewhere... It just didn’t get told this time around.
Is it a business profile? Is it a biography? Self-help? It definitely hits on all of these things. The main problem is that it never seems to go beyond skin deep. A lot of the platitudes are repeated throughout the book without much being added in the way of substance. It’s unfortunate because we’re talking about a company that does well over $60 million of a business a year and has grown to that size without ever ceasing to be privately-held. Really, the Clif Bar company is an amazing success story, succeeding in a way that even the almighty Powerbar (now owned by Nestle) hasn’t.
One thing the book does have going for it is ease of use. It doesn’t bog down in business stats or lists of crucial employees. It’s a very light, easy read and relentlessly positive. Raising the Bar has a spirit of inspiration and there’s no doubt many companies would love to emulate Clif's method of finding success while staying true to their ideals…
From a corporate viewpoint Mr. Erickson is an amazing talent. And as a former bicycle racer/mountain climber/world trekker, Gary does tell a few decent stories. Sadly, these tales are usually a means for providing a half-baked, fairly obvious business analogy that almost always has to do with taking the path less traveled or keeping profits down and charity up. As a person, I’d aspire to be a lot like him. I would love to emulate the success he’s had while staying true to his ideals…but I hope I never manage to string together so many words without ever actually saying something original.
Because talent in business doesn’t always correlate with writing ability this book leaves me wanting for so much more. Specifics about the way Clif moved their market from Northern California to the rest of the world… Details on the work/life balance Clif allows its employees to maintain… Cocktail and Weenie Party? He mentions it at least three times, but never offers more than a name. It sound great! I want to come! But what the hell is it?!
The whole endeavor feels like a feature-length movie trailer. I spent 200+ plus pages hoping there would be more details to accompany the points he touches on in the first chapter, but was instead rewarded with admonitions to 'stay true to myself' and 'take country lanes instead of highways.' It’s all good and decent advice, but without any real examples or methods for applying such broad generalities to the world, it’s no more useful than Google’s ubiquitous ‘Don’t Be Evil.’ (Except many of the books on Google tell exactly HOW they strive not to be evil. And to expand their brand. And to grow as a business without overextending themselves…)
Though it sounds harsh, Raising the Bar reads an awful lot like some of my 18th Century English Literature papers: Lots of nice sounding phrases and agreed upon sentiments, but very little that’s original or striking. My goal during those out-of-time-too-many-papers-due late college nights was to put forth something that was plain-vanilla, below-the-radar decent. It’s not the worst sin for an English major… Unfortunately, Erickson, who espouses chance taking and has built a wonderful business around it, doesn’t pull off writing with the same verve he brings to nutrition bars. And you know what? I’m glad. Halfway through a 75-mile bike ride, I’m much more likely to care that those bars taste good than I am about his writing style. I just think a company like Clif Bar deserves a better rendition of how it came to be. There’s a truly amazing story in there, I’m sure of it. But it has yet to be written.
Paperback from Amazon.com – $13.57
Buy it if: You love inspirational posters
Don’t buy it if: You’re expecting a detailed and thorough business profile
I’m a huge sucker for business profiles…the more obscure the better. (In fact, expect an upcoming review of the fascinating The Box, history of the modern shipping container. Yes…I’m serious.) So, the idea of a business profile - written by the founder! - of a product I use and enjoy? And it comes recommended to me by a few different people? Sounds like win-win-win-win to me!
I’m sorry to say Raising the Bar just didn’t do it for me. I’m more disappointed than anything, because I like the Clif Bar company. I like the ethos, I like its ‘green’ aspirations, and I like its support of local sports. From the sound of it, Gary Erickson and I would probably get along famously. Unfortunately the telling of the Clif Bar story falls short, which is sad because I have no doubt that there is a great story in there somewhere... It just didn’t get told this time around.
Is it a business profile? Is it a biography? Self-help? It definitely hits on all of these things. The main problem is that it never seems to go beyond skin deep. A lot of the platitudes are repeated throughout the book without much being added in the way of substance. It’s unfortunate because we’re talking about a company that does well over $60 million of a business a year and has grown to that size without ever ceasing to be privately-held. Really, the Clif Bar company is an amazing success story, succeeding in a way that even the almighty Powerbar (now owned by Nestle) hasn’t.
One thing the book does have going for it is ease of use. It doesn’t bog down in business stats or lists of crucial employees. It’s a very light, easy read and relentlessly positive. Raising the Bar has a spirit of inspiration and there’s no doubt many companies would love to emulate Clif's method of finding success while staying true to their ideals…
From a corporate viewpoint Mr. Erickson is an amazing talent. And as a former bicycle racer/mountain climber/world trekker, Gary does tell a few decent stories. Sadly, these tales are usually a means for providing a half-baked, fairly obvious business analogy that almost always has to do with taking the path less traveled or keeping profits down and charity up. As a person, I’d aspire to be a lot like him. I would love to emulate the success he’s had while staying true to his ideals…but I hope I never manage to string together so many words without ever actually saying something original.
Because talent in business doesn’t always correlate with writing ability this book leaves me wanting for so much more. Specifics about the way Clif moved their market from Northern California to the rest of the world… Details on the work/life balance Clif allows its employees to maintain… Cocktail and Weenie Party? He mentions it at least three times, but never offers more than a name. It sound great! I want to come! But what the hell is it?!
The whole endeavor feels like a feature-length movie trailer. I spent 200+ plus pages hoping there would be more details to accompany the points he touches on in the first chapter, but was instead rewarded with admonitions to 'stay true to myself' and 'take country lanes instead of highways.' It’s all good and decent advice, but without any real examples or methods for applying such broad generalities to the world, it’s no more useful than Google’s ubiquitous ‘Don’t Be Evil.’ (Except many of the books on Google tell exactly HOW they strive not to be evil. And to expand their brand. And to grow as a business without overextending themselves…)
Though it sounds harsh, Raising the Bar reads an awful lot like some of my 18th Century English Literature papers: Lots of nice sounding phrases and agreed upon sentiments, but very little that’s original or striking. My goal during those out-of-time-too-many-papers-
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Perfect Mile - Neil Bascomb
Non-Fiction
Paperback from Amazon.com - $10.17
Buy it if: You loved 'Seabiscuit.'
Don’t buy it if: You’re hoping for a surprise ending. Roger Bannister is still the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes…
The crux of most true-life sports stories is their foregone conclusion. Midway through 'Faithful' you’re not going to discover the Red Sox actually lost the ’04 series, nor is there much doubt about Jim Braddock’s big fight in 'Cinderella Man.' No. The key with these types of sports stories is to portray the moments leading up to these compelling moments…well, compellingly. The Perfect Mile highlights the excitement and uncertainty that preceded Roger Bannister’s historic run remarkably.
Paced like a cinematic drama, building to the running of the world’s first sub-4:00 mile, somehow Bascomb imbues the writing the same sense of anticipation that track and field enthusiasts must have felt following these events contemporarily. He does it so well that I spent whole passages wondering if I’d gotten my history right. Bannister did do it, didn’t he? Maybe Wes Santee somehow defies his bad luck to pip the record in the nick of time. Perhaps John Landy set the mark first and I just didn’t know it?
Obviously Bannister did it. His is a name synonymous with the act decades later. And unfortunately the other two are mere footnotes unknown to most of the general public. But the story of these three men – divergent in continent, profession and education - and their shared goal is utterly fascinating. That a book with a known ending can keep a reader’s attention so rapt says volumes about both the inherent drama of the record chase and the author’s skill at portraying it.
Neil Bascomb is exceptionally good at setting the context… but it certainly doesn’t hurt that the subjects fit wonderful, story-character archetypes. Roger Bannister as the scholar-athlete, fitting his training around a med school schedule. John Landy as the brutal pro, dedicating all towards his goal. And Wes Santee, the Native American military man with a heart of gold. He’s like a real-life Rocky Balboa…but way faster.
For those not well-versed in running’s history you’ll be amazed that three men from three different corners of the world could all approach this ‘impossible’ barrier in such a similar time frame. Though track and field enthusiasts will undoubtedly be more aware of the facts and players, the drama as told here is unique. The only impossibility in these pages is not finding yourself completely caught up in this drive to 3:59.
History provided the men and the writer paints the scenes, with plenty of insight offered into the now-passed era of amateurism and what that meant to those who would compete at the highest level. These men didn’t get bonuses and endorsements, and they’re all the more compelling for it. Fortunately, Bascomb does an excellent job in conveying the personality of each man and makes you glad there’s such a well-written book on the subject. Surely there are many poorly told versions of this story…but this certainly isn’t one of them…
Paperback from Amazon.com - $10.17
Buy it if: You loved 'Seabiscuit.'
Don’t buy it if: You’re hoping for a surprise ending. Roger Bannister is still the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes…
The crux of most true-life sports stories is their foregone conclusion. Midway through 'Faithful' you’re not going to discover the Red Sox actually lost the ’04 series, nor is there much doubt about Jim Braddock’s big fight in 'Cinderella Man.' No. The key with these types of sports stories is to portray the moments leading up to these compelling moments…well, compellingly. The Perfect Mile highlights the excitement and uncertainty that preceded Roger Bannister’s historic run remarkably.
Paced like a cinematic drama, building to the running of the world’s first sub-4:00 mile, somehow Bascomb imbues the writing the same sense of anticipation that track and field enthusiasts must have felt following these events contemporarily. He does it so well that I spent whole passages wondering if I’d gotten my history right. Bannister did do it, didn’t he? Maybe Wes Santee somehow defies his bad luck to pip the record in the nick of time. Perhaps John Landy set the mark first and I just didn’t know it?
Obviously Bannister did it. His is a name synonymous with the act decades later. And unfortunately the other two are mere footnotes unknown to most of the general public. But the story of these three men – divergent in continent, profession and education - and their shared goal is utterly fascinating. That a book with a known ending can keep a reader’s attention so rapt says volumes about both the inherent drama of the record chase and the author’s skill at portraying it.
Neil Bascomb is exceptionally good at setting the context… but it certainly doesn’t hurt that the subjects fit wonderful, story-character archetypes. Roger Bannister as the scholar-athlete, fitting his training around a med school schedule. John Landy as the brutal pro, dedicating all towards his goal. And Wes Santee, the Native American military man with a heart of gold. He’s like a real-life Rocky Balboa…but way faster.
For those not well-versed in running’s history you’ll be amazed that three men from three different corners of the world could all approach this ‘impossible’ barrier in such a similar time frame. Though track and field enthusiasts will undoubtedly be more aware of the facts and players, the drama as told here is unique. The only impossibility in these pages is not finding yourself completely caught up in this drive to 3:59.
History provided the men and the writer paints the scenes, with plenty of insight offered into the now-passed era of amateurism and what that meant to those who would compete at the highest level. These men didn’t get bonuses and endorsements, and they’re all the more compelling for it. Fortunately, Bascomb does an excellent job in conveying the personality of each man and makes you glad there’s such a well-written book on the subject. Surely there are many poorly told versions of this story…but this certainly isn’t one of them…
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Don’t Hassle the Hoff - David Hasselhoff
Hardcover (!) at Amazon.com - $4.99!
Non-fiction…Sort of.
Buy it if: Look, there’s no good reason to buy this book, you just have to do it
Don’t buy it if: I’m not even going to open the floodgates here…
Yes, I’m serious. You have to read this book. I know what you’re thinking: Why on earth would I waste my precious time reading the autobiography of this cheesy, egocentric, barely talented, 80s has-been wannabe? And there you go. You’ve just answered your own question.
David Hasselhoff is all of those things and more. And I love David Hasselhoff. I can say this with tongue nowhere in the vicinity of my cheek: Michael Knight was my hero growing up. (Granted, K.I.T.T. was my much bigger hero, but Michael had to be there, too. Kind of.) I spent nights pining after ‘Turbo Boosts’ and still have my Knight Rider slumber bag. The black lycra pop star? Portly Baywatch lifeguard? These are David Hasselhoffs that I never really ‘got.’ But that doesn’t diminish my love for the man. You have to admit that – love him or hate him – the guy is a ubiquitous American icon. (And possibly the real reason the terrorists hate us…)
But what makes Don’t Hassle the Hoff so splendid, so wonderfully magnificent, is Hasselhoff’s own ability to lose all perspective when considering the subject of himself. For all the many faults of this book, there are few more shining examples of absolute sincerity in literature. There can be no doubt that the man believes every single self-scribed word, and that makes the ridiculous and outlandish all the more entertaining. It’s like a magician being convinced he’s really sawed the woman in half…despite the audience being able to clearly see her legs curled up behind a mirror.
Nothing illustrates this better than my favorite passage of the book, when he blames ‘wind sheer’ for a motorcycle accident. I am going to quote the ‘Hoff as my own words simply cannot do this supposition justice: “The doctor who treated me had been at LAX picking up his parents when landings had been suspended owing to a wind sheer, a very severe wind gust. The wind had hit LAX at 4:30 p.m. and it had hit the bike at 4:31 p.m.” Stunning. The man actually tracked the dastardly breeze that put his life in peril. K.I.T.T. couldn’t have done it better…
Of course, apart from the fantastic (please consider the ‘fantasy’ derivation of the word) writing style, you will be astounded at the sheer fame and success this guy has somehow accrued. Unbelievably, he’s failed upwards into a pop singing career, roles on Broadway, parts in movies and the lead on the world’s most syndicated show. He’s quite literally made every weakness an asset and… Well, I can’t help myself…he’s just downright likeable. It’s true. Despite the cheese and aw-shucks stories, you get the feeling he’s a good guy and there’s something terrifyingly heartwarming about this.
Of course, his candor with his own perceived talent also carries over into his addictions and the mistakes he’s made. It’s nice to see that he can turn his bright light onto his demons as well as his accomplishments. Granted, the former gets a short shrift when compared to the latter, but he’s trying. At least he can’t be accused of trying to capitalize on his own tabloid fodder. He seems rightfully embarrassed by his own actions, which is a welcome relief from celebrity celebrations of their own weaknesses.
I have to tell you, at a price higher than $5, I really couldn’t recommend this with a straight face, but it’s less than a Venti Mocha and the joy will last so much longer than that Starbucks concoction. It’s slickly packaged, with a full-sized color portrait of the man himself on the back cover, smirking over dark sunglasses and a complete (why?!) filmography, discography and TV episode listing included as an appendix.
You’re going to love it, which is going to force you to question your own sanity, but you won’t be able to help yourself. Just beware, once you get drawn into the ‘Hoff’s web the biggest dilemma facing you will be how to hide the cover when reading it in public…
Non-fiction…Sort of.
Buy it if: Look, there’s no good reason to buy this book, you just have to do it
Don’t buy it if: I’m not even going to open the floodgates here…
Yes, I’m serious. You have to read this book. I know what you’re thinking: Why on earth would I waste my precious time reading the autobiography of this cheesy, egocentric, barely talented, 80s has-been wannabe? And there you go. You’ve just answered your own question.
David Hasselhoff is all of those things and more. And I love David Hasselhoff. I can say this with tongue nowhere in the vicinity of my cheek: Michael Knight was my hero growing up. (Granted, K.I.T.T. was my much bigger hero, but Michael had to be there, too. Kind of.) I spent nights pining after ‘Turbo Boosts’ and still have my Knight Rider slumber bag. The black lycra pop star? Portly Baywatch lifeguard? These are David Hasselhoffs that I never really ‘got.’ But that doesn’t diminish my love for the man. You have to admit that – love him or hate him – the guy is a ubiquitous American icon. (And possibly the real reason the terrorists hate us…)
But what makes Don’t Hassle the Hoff so splendid, so wonderfully magnificent, is Hasselhoff’s own ability to lose all perspective when considering the subject of himself. For all the many faults of this book, there are few more shining examples of absolute sincerity in literature. There can be no doubt that the man believes every single self-scribed word, and that makes the ridiculous and outlandish all the more entertaining. It’s like a magician being convinced he’s really sawed the woman in half…despite the audience being able to clearly see her legs curled up behind a mirror.
Nothing illustrates this better than my favorite passage of the book, when he blames ‘wind sheer’ for a motorcycle accident. I am going to quote the ‘Hoff as my own words simply cannot do this supposition justice: “The doctor who treated me had been at LAX picking up his parents when landings had been suspended owing to a wind sheer, a very severe wind gust. The wind had hit LAX at 4:30 p.m. and it had hit the bike at 4:31 p.m.” Stunning. The man actually tracked the dastardly breeze that put his life in peril. K.I.T.T. couldn’t have done it better…
Of course, apart from the fantastic (please consider the ‘fantasy’ derivation of the word) writing style, you will be astounded at the sheer fame and success this guy has somehow accrued. Unbelievably, he’s failed upwards into a pop singing career, roles on Broadway, parts in movies and the lead on the world’s most syndicated show. He’s quite literally made every weakness an asset and… Well, I can’t help myself…he’s just downright likeable. It’s true. Despite the cheese and aw-shucks stories, you get the feeling he’s a good guy and there’s something terrifyingly heartwarming about this.
Of course, his candor with his own perceived talent also carries over into his addictions and the mistakes he’s made. It’s nice to see that he can turn his bright light onto his demons as well as his accomplishments. Granted, the former gets a short shrift when compared to the latter, but he’s trying. At least he can’t be accused of trying to capitalize on his own tabloid fodder. He seems rightfully embarrassed by his own actions, which is a welcome relief from celebrity celebrations of their own weaknesses.
I have to tell you, at a price higher than $5, I really couldn’t recommend this with a straight face, but it’s less than a Venti Mocha and the joy will last so much longer than that Starbucks concoction. It’s slickly packaged, with a full-sized color portrait of the man himself on the back cover, smirking over dark sunglasses and a complete (why?!) filmography, discography and TV episode listing included as an appendix.
You’re going to love it, which is going to force you to question your own sanity, but you won’t be able to help yourself. Just beware, once you get drawn into the ‘Hoff’s web the biggest dilemma facing you will be how to hide the cover when reading it in public…
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Wishbones - Tom Perotta
Softcover from Amazon.com - $4.99
Fiction
Buy it if: You want a solid story with a movie’s pace
Don’t buy it if: You think Clear and Present Danger is the pinnacle of fiction
At first glance The Wishbones feels like a loosely-based treatment for The Wedding Singer. Dave is a never-made-it guitarist making ends in meet in a wedding band and constantly questioning the one good and stable thing in his life: a stagnating relationship with his pseudo-fiance, Julie. Among his growing list of concerns: a romantic interest in a young bridesmaid, nagging parents and his band, The Wishbones, suffering from a growing delusion that they’re still going to make it big… Dave’s got little problems that feel huge and the book feels primed for 90 minutes of Hollywood-style Rom-Com.
To be fair, Tom Perotta’s style (and length) of novel does lend itself neatly to the screenplay construct. One need only look as far as Election and Little Children, both of which were born from Perotta books, for proof. But despite its familiar premise, The Wishbones’ veers off in a new direction early on. The plot stands on its own and the cadence of the storytelling moves things along at a brisk pace. Characters like outgoing bridesmaid Gretchen and rival bandleader ‘Rockin’ Randy’ gain depth without overt minutia that, quite frankly, would just hinder the flow.
After reading this novel and his others, it’s tempting to pigeonhole Perotta. He always seems to be writing about conflicted men (and occasionally women) residing in dark and anonymous suburbs. But he does it with an upbeat style streaked with huge doses of humor. It’s practically ‘jaunty.’ Citing a common theme between books, however, misses the point: We are a world of conflicted people. It’s because of this that Perotta’s characters feel so familiar. Like us, they get stressed out over both life’s mundane choices and ‘big decisions.’ You gotta respect the common perspective: Whether it’s a marriage or simply getting to work on time…we’re worried about fucking up.
And the characters make the story work. They’re not larger than life and it’s hard to discern heroes from villains, right from wrong. They’re believable because they’re so us. I’ve always disliked Tom Clancy-style protagonists, those white-knight ubermen. Jack Ryan is the paragon of perfection. And while it makes for a fun read, it’s also utterly unrealistic.
But Dave makes mistakes, he does dumb stuff that he usually regrets. He’s unsure of himself, a bit down on his life and generally…well, normal. I know, it doesn’t sound like it would make for compelling reading, but I think you’ll soon find that this normalcy is exactly what draws you in. Can I relate? Not to the specific situations. But to the feelings, uncertainties, and annoyances of life? It’s a challenge to NOT see a part of yourself in erstwhile axe-slinger Dave or frustrated beau Julie. They’re like novel-dwelling horoscopes, always with a characteristic directly applicable to your own life, positive or negative. Probably both, but rarely neither.
Even better, Perotta - for an author who populates his books with such wonderful and accessible characters – is writing really great stories. There is a flow to the books. Things are happening. People are going places. There are going to be actions and conclusions. I’m so happy for Dave, Julie and all the others (including us!) that they’re not just standing around considering everything. They’re talking, they’re doing, they’re sleeping with each other and lying… They’re living. Consider a lot of fiction for a while and you’ll realize there’s often a lot less going on than you originally thought… Fortunately, The Wishbones has some action, it’s moving through time just like the rest of us.
This book's author, as he does in the equally recommended Election, Joe College, and Little Children, reminds me of my father, a carpenter. Dad turns ordinary planks of wood into functional objects, things we need and use everyday. But there’s always a delicate ornamentation, a little bit of elegance that takes an extra moment to appreciate and sets his work apart from the more common tables and chairs of this world. Perotta adds these little details in small, deft character traits that an author like Clancy, with reams of paper bound into his titles, simply can’t apply with brute force methods. He’s a craftsman with words that – while they may appear simple at first – age into a very satisfying elegance.
Fiction
Buy it if: You want a solid story with a movie’s pace
Don’t buy it if: You think Clear and Present Danger is the pinnacle of fiction
At first glance The Wishbones feels like a loosely-based treatment for The Wedding Singer. Dave is a never-made-it guitarist making ends in meet in a wedding band and constantly questioning the one good and stable thing in his life: a stagnating relationship with his pseudo-fiance, Julie. Among his growing list of concerns: a romantic interest in a young bridesmaid, nagging parents and his band, The Wishbones, suffering from a growing delusion that they’re still going to make it big… Dave’s got little problems that feel huge and the book feels primed for 90 minutes of Hollywood-style Rom-Com.
To be fair, Tom Perotta’s style (and length) of novel does lend itself neatly to the screenplay construct. One need only look as far as Election and Little Children, both of which were born from Perotta books, for proof. But despite its familiar premise, The Wishbones’ veers off in a new direction early on. The plot stands on its own and the cadence of the storytelling moves things along at a brisk pace. Characters like outgoing bridesmaid Gretchen and rival bandleader ‘Rockin’ Randy’ gain depth without overt minutia that, quite frankly, would just hinder the flow.
After reading this novel and his others, it’s tempting to pigeonhole Perotta. He always seems to be writing about conflicted men (and occasionally women) residing in dark and anonymous suburbs. But he does it with an upbeat style streaked with huge doses of humor. It’s practically ‘jaunty.’ Citing a common theme between books, however, misses the point: We are a world of conflicted people. It’s because of this that Perotta’s characters feel so familiar. Like us, they get stressed out over both life’s mundane choices and ‘big decisions.’ You gotta respect the common perspective: Whether it’s a marriage or simply getting to work on time…we’re worried about fucking up.
And the characters make the story work. They’re not larger than life and it’s hard to discern heroes from villains, right from wrong. They’re believable because they’re so us. I’ve always disliked Tom Clancy-style protagonists, those white-knight ubermen. Jack Ryan is the paragon of perfection. And while it makes for a fun read, it’s also utterly unrealistic.
But Dave makes mistakes, he does dumb stuff that he usually regrets. He’s unsure of himself, a bit down on his life and generally…well, normal. I know, it doesn’t sound like it would make for compelling reading, but I think you’ll soon find that this normalcy is exactly what draws you in. Can I relate? Not to the specific situations. But to the feelings, uncertainties, and annoyances of life? It’s a challenge to NOT see a part of yourself in erstwhile axe-slinger Dave or frustrated beau Julie. They’re like novel-dwelling horoscopes, always with a characteristic directly applicable to your own life, positive or negative. Probably both, but rarely neither.
Even better, Perotta - for an author who populates his books with such wonderful and accessible characters – is writing really great stories. There is a flow to the books. Things are happening. People are going places. There are going to be actions and conclusions. I’m so happy for Dave, Julie and all the others (including us!) that they’re not just standing around considering everything. They’re talking, they’re doing, they’re sleeping with each other and lying… They’re living. Consider a lot of fiction for a while and you’ll realize there’s often a lot less going on than you originally thought… Fortunately, The Wishbones has some action, it’s moving through time just like the rest of us.
This book's author, as he does in the equally recommended Election, Joe College, and Little Children, reminds me of my father, a carpenter. Dad turns ordinary planks of wood into functional objects, things we need and use everyday. But there’s always a delicate ornamentation, a little bit of elegance that takes an extra moment to appreciate and sets his work apart from the more common tables and chairs of this world. Perotta adds these little details in small, deft character traits that an author like Clancy, with reams of paper bound into his titles, simply can’t apply with brute force methods. He’s a craftsman with words that – while they may appear simple at first – age into a very satisfying elegance.
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