Let's Bust a Recap : When God Writes Your Life Story

I distinctly remember receiving When God Writes Your Life Story along with two other books by the Ludys as a gift in high school. Around that time, I read one of the other books, When Dreams Come True. I liked that one. It was the couple's love story told from both their perspectives. Very sweet. I think I started this one shortly after finishing that one, but didn't get very far into it. Probably not even past the first chapter. (I never picked up the other one, When God Writes Your Love Story, so I have no comments about it.)

Years later in 2015—and now that I'm thinking about it, that would have been a solid ten years after receiving these books as gifts—when I decided to make my very first book list, When God Writes Your Life Story got a spot. And I even started reading it again. But once again, I didn't make it past the first chapter before setting it aside. 

So obviously, it got a spot on my 2026 book list along with three other books from that very first list and I wasted no time in dusting it off to read in March. And it turned out to be a 50/50 book. I 50% couldn't roll my eyes any harder, and 50% thought it could actually be a very helpful resource. So let's get into it. 

Basically the premise of this book is when we're kids, we dream big, like, superhero big dreams for our life. But as we get older, we settle for mediocrity. So if you want to make your life count and live a thrilling existence, read our book to make it happen. 

Do you see me rolling my eyes?

Eric and Leslie Ludy published When God Writes Your Life Story back in 2004. It's the sixth in a long line of books they've published together. I am genuinely happy to report that the Ludys are still married and active in ministry, and seem to be a pretty unproblematic couple. A lot of spiritual leaders from the Y2K "purity culture" era have fallen from grace hard, and for me, that taints their work—however founded in truth it may be. But the Ludys seem to be the real deal, and I'm sincerely glad about that.

But their writing. Boy oh boy. When I say the first two-thirds of this book is some of the cheesiest, most trite, "Christian-ese" nonsense I've ever read: it legitimately made me want to hurl. If you've been around or know me in real life, you know I grew up in a pastor's household. Maybe you think that means I grew up with this kind of sunshine-y, Christian-speak, climb God's Everest, Jesus loves me, kind of vocabulary. But if you actually know my dad, you know he won't stand for what he calls "Sunday school answers." We never got let off the hook with a "because the Bible says so" answer around the family dinner table. My dad is quick to cut through the BS and tell the truth plain, especially when it's hard. As a result, I have grown into an adult who can't stand this "churchy" way of talking. It makes my skin crawl. And so for the first 140ish pages of When God Writes Your Life Story, I was wincing. A lot. The Ludys don't out-and-out lie or say anything blasphemous, but they also don't say things that are particularly helpful, practical, or that give a full picture of life. This book is geared to a younger demographic—nothing wrong with that—but they go so far as to say that older people have criticized them and their message as being naive and overly optimistic and that those naysayers are part of the mass of people who have settled for mediocrity in their lives. 

As one of those older people reading their book, let me add my two cents. While I would agree that there can literally be nothing in life more ultimately rewarding than living for God wholeheartedly, I think the Ludys are setting young people up for major disillusionment by talking about the Christian life as if it is a thrilling adventure every. single. day. And they do talk about it like that. What will happen to the teenager who joyfully embraces this ideology when she grows up and realizes that the bills have to be paid every month, the dishes have to be washed every day, the laundry never ends, and she actually has to buy the groceries and cook the meals day in and day out? Her kids will throw tantrums and things will break and she will get sick when it's the most inconvenient. Learning to live a quiet, faithful life through all that doesn't always feel exciting. Some (most?) days it feels exhausting. Is she still doing it right when she doesn't feel like she's living on the mountaintops? I think if she swallowed the Ludys message, hook, line, and sinker when she was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed twenty-two year old, fresh out of Bible college, she might become a sad statistic of another kid raised in church who walked away from it all as an adult. 

But Hannah, you said this was a 50/50 book? What is helpful in all that?

When God Writes Your Life Story is sectioned into three parts: Part One—Dreaming the Impossible; Part Two—Living the Impossible; and Part Three—Frontier Field Guide. If you're anything like me and have a low tolerance for BS, those first two parts will be painful. But if you want to skip all that and go straight to the Field Guide, that's where I think this book actually has something helpful to offer. While the first two parts read like, "The Christian life is such an adventure, keep reading to learn how to climb the Christian Everest!" (I wish I was kidding), this third part gets into practical, real-world application of how to confront and confess sin and live a holy life. A how-to for setting achievable goals, creating healthy habits, and getting involved in community. When God Writes Your Life Story offered some of the most balanced, practical advice I've ever read about finding and joining a church. That part especially resonated with me as someone who has had a very difficult time finding a church as an adult now that my dad (you remember him, the straight-shooter?) is no longer pastoring a local church. 

So there's good stuff in there. You just have to wade through a lot of cheese to get to it. My advice? If you find yourself with this book in your hands, skip straight to the "Frontier Field Guide" and go from there. If you want to get a feel for what you're missing in parts one and two, just read the little "In a Nutshell" page at the end of each chapter. I promise, the chapters themselves aren't any deeper than what you get there. While I did feel like a lot of my time reading this book was wasted, I can honestly say that I could see myself referring back to that third section in the future. 

On to the next.

Let's Bust a Recap : Hannah Coulter

Wendell Berry is one of the most highly lauded living authors today. Currently 91 years old, his resumé is a thing to behold. I've been wanting to read his work for some time now, but let me tell you: his books are hard to find secondhand. Even on my go-to resale sites, they land on the pricier side. And now that I've finally read him, I understand why. You don't let go of Wendell Berry easily. My sister-in-law was kind enough to get my collection started when she gifted me Hannah Coulter for my birthday in 2024. It immediately earned a place on my 2025 book list, but I didn't quite get to it last year.

Since 2026 has been the year of trying to read all the books I put on my book lists but never actually read, Hannah Coulter automatically got another spot. And when my friend Karis started reading it at the beginning of March, I got the FOMO real bad and resolved to read it as soon as I finished Project Hail Mary (which didn't take long because I couldn't put that book down, though I didn't manage to start Hannah until after Karis finished). Start it I did though and ended up reading it over the course of a week. This quiet, deeply felt novel is written in the form of twice-widowed Hannah Coulter looking back over her life and relating her recollections to Andy Catlett. As Hannah sorts through her memories and recalls her childhood, her first love and loss, building a life with her second husband, and raising children: the reader is transported to a simpler way of living, but not one without its own unique complexities, struggles, and heartaches. It was a pleasure to read, and it felt deeply personal. Hannah's musings on life and the specific choices she made were so real and easy to relate to. Her story is so profoundly human, the characters littering the pages almost tangible. Nothing about Berry's writing felt contrived or overdone. Truly such a beautiful book. 

Wendell Berry is closely identified with rural Kentucky and his writing is known for being grounded in a strong sense of place. Hannah Coulter, published in 2004, is the seventh of his Port William novels which began with Nathan Coulter, published in 1960. There are eight total, and Berry wrote them in such a way that they can be read in any order. Now that I've read Hannah Coulter, I'm most interested in picking up Andy Catlett next since Andy is the one she's sharing her memories with in this book, but I hope to add all eight of the Port William novels to my library and read them as they come. 

To sum up: this reader's opinion is that the Wendell Berry hype is fully earned. After reading a little more about Berry himself, his views and activism, I'm not sure how his non-fiction would land with me, but I absolutely loved my first experience with his fictional Port William and its membership, and I'm looking forward to my next visit there. 

Let's Bust a Recap : Project Hail Mary

Oh yes. I unapologetically jumped on the bandwagon of people reading this 2021 bestseller in anticipation of the new film adaptation starring Ryan Gosling. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Sci-fi is not my go-to genre and though I was aware of the universal popularity of Andy Weir's books The Martian and Project Hail Mary, I didn't have much interest in reading them, despite the glowing reviews from personal friends and family. 

But when the news dropped last summer that the long-awaited adaptation would be making its way to screens in March this year, I began that internal bookworm debate of to read or not to read. I was immediately interested in seeing the film. We're fans of the Gosling around here and what better date night than an adventure through the galaxies? Ultimately, I decided—and so did my husband—that we would give the book a go, and since I got to select the book for my book club to read in March, I dragged them into it with me, too.

I procured a copy (a saga in and of itself involving long library wait times, hunting unsuccessfully for a secondhand copy, buying the book from a major retailer, then immediately having my hold come through from the library, my husband taking the library book with him on a trip to Winston-Salem where he got snowed in for a week and read it in like a day and telling me we should definitely keep the copy we bought, but then him finding it in the first secondhand bookstore he visited for a fraction of the price we paid the major retailer, so naturally he bought it and I returned the new book) and, along with my brother Reagan, began reading. (Another fun story: Reagan and I ended up finishing the book within minutes of each other. 1:30 AM Eastern Standard for me; 10:30 PM Pacific Standard for him.)

Okay, so here's where we hit a snag in this review. 

What review, Hannah? You've been bombarding us with all your usual nonsense and gotten nowhere!

Right, but see: I went into this book almost completely blind. I didn't know much of anything about it beyond it involving a guy going to space. And it was one of the best reading experiences ever. I am firmly in the camp of readers who would advise you to go into this book without reading a single review, or watching the movie trailer, or even reading the back of the book. This is one of those books you walk away from wishing you could read it for the first time again. 

But where does that leave me, your humble internet book reviewer? I will give you one sentence about the premise, then a few more details about the success of the book, my general thoughts about the adaptation, and we'll leave it at that. Deal? 

A man wakes up from a medically-induced coma, but he can't remember why he was in one, where he is, or even what his own name is. 

*cue the drama*

You guys, it's so good. Definitely read it. In 2021 it debuted on pretty much every big bestseller list for the physical book and the audiobook narrated by Ray Porter, and it jumped back up to the top of all the bestseller lists again last summer when the teaser for the adaptation dropped. Now, I'll be the first person to tell you that Andy Weir's writing isn't anything to phone home about, but the man can spin a yarn, let me tell you. And while this book was chock-full of the science and math, he never took it to the point where my eyes glazed over, which is saying something because I am not a science and math girl. This is a keep-you-on-the-edge-of-your-seat novel, and I was reading it every chance I got. 

As for the movie: we loved it. A very good adaptation, as adaptations go. Naturally, there were some omissions we were disappointed about, and, honestly, the opening wasn't great; but overall it was a very good time at the movies. We saw it in IMAX which was awesome and I'd highly recommend it if you have the chance to see it that way. I do honestly feel like I would not have enjoyed it as much as I did if I hadn't read the book first. This was an adaptation for the book-lovers if ever I've seen one, and while it still would have been a fun date night if we hadn't read the book first, I don't think I'd feel compelled to buy the movie on DVD or watch it again if I hadn't loved the book so thoroughly and had all the information the movie couldn't possibly have included. 

Project Hail Mary has a fan in me. I don't know that I'll ever pick up Andy Weir's other books, but I'm so glad I didn't miss out on this one. 

Amaze. Amaze. Amaze.

Let's Bust a Recap : Fervent

I was reading this book a solid year ago (from March to May), but we're finally getting this recap done because I finally re-watched War Room which I wanted to do before posting this. 

Fervent by Priscilla Shirer came out in the summer of 2015 just a month or two before War Room which is a faith-based film that Shirer had the starring role in. I'm pretty sure I went and saw War Room in the theater with my BFF Christina and we ended up buddy reading Fervent last year together too. 

I was aware at the time War Room came out that Fervent had recently been published as a sort of unofficial companion book to the movie, but I didn't have a copy and didn't make a point to get a copy either. However, in 2024 two of my other BFFs, Amy and Lyndsey (Christina was supposed to come too but got sick), drove up to meet me in Alpharetta, Georgia for a Living Proof Live event. As girlfriends do, we went shopping together at a massive Goodwill and I came across a copy of Fervent for a measly $2. I think Amy ended up buying a copy as well. Christina and I talked about buddy reading it that fall, but life being what it is, we ended up pushing it to after the new year. I'm glad we got to it because I needed this book. Honestly, I need all the books on prayer I can get. I'm putting Fervent and A Praying Life by Paul Miller into the regular rotation of my reading life. 

Shirer's emphasis in Fervent is making a prayer battle plan so that we are equipped to fight in the ongoing spiritual warfare that is happening all around us—whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. Something Shirer confronted right out of the gate is putting our enemy in his proper place. She says:

Whenever the conversation of demonic activity comes up in a book like this, most people scatter to one of two extremes. Either they overestimate Satan's influence and power, living with an inflated, erroneous perspective of his abilities. Or they underestimate him. They don't assign him any credit at all for the difficulties he's stirring up beneath the surface of their lives. One extreme leaves you saddled with undue fear and anxiety; the other just makes you stupid...unaware and completely open to every single attack. 

Full transparency: I tend to fall in the second category. As Shirer goes on to point out, God already defeated Satan once and for all and He didn't break a sweat to do it. The devil didn't and doesn't stand a chance against the Almighty God of the universe. But as Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit, clearly warns us, the devil would still love to devour me if I let my guard down. The Scripture is clear about spiritual warfare: it's real and we have to take up arms.

So in Fervent, Shirer targets ten areas in our lives the devil is prone to attack and lays out strategies for the reader to pray about each one. And she's practical. She designed the book with prayer cards for the reader to tear out and fill in with their own prayers to post on the walls of their closets. She includes many Scripture references at the end of each chapter which was my favorite part. My copy is already well-highlighted and will continue to be for years to come. I've always appreciated Priscilla's no-holds-barred approach. She's not afraid to tell you the truth and to tell it to you plain. This book is a kick in the pants, get off your butt and on your knees, call to action, and we could all use a little more of that in our lives. 

As for the movie War Room, I'll also tell it to you straight: a movie star Priscilla Shirer is not. Bless her. The star of that film is little Miss Alena Pitts who is Shirer's second cousin in real life and who plays her daughter in the film. As a lot of faith-based films tend to be, the acting comes across a little cheesy, but the content is so powerful, I still found myself with tears running down my face as I sat on my couch watching it last week. 

I highly, highly recommend Fervent and if you can watch War Room afterwards, so much the better. 

Let's Bust a Recap : As I Lay Dying

A few weeks ago, I recapped my first Hemingway and now I've also tackled my first Faulkner, and you guys, I have to say: I haven't been particularly impressed with the Jazz Age bunch.  

Way back in 2018, I read The Great Gatsby for the first time and I remember thinking, "Really? This is the book we're all lauding as one of the best offerings of the 20th century? Really??" And then I found Hemingway painful. And now Faulkner who by the end of the novel I just kept thinking, "What a pretentious prig." 

(Why am I even comparing these three authors? They were contemporaries being born in 1896, 1897, and 1899, respectively, and they are all three often lauded as some of the greatest American writers of the 20th century. Faulkner and Hemingway both won the Nobel Prize in Literature, and Fitzgerald was nominated for it twice.)

But getting back to the pretentious prig. Faulkner himself bragged that he wrote As I Lay Dying "in six weeks, without changing a word" (not true) and that he "set out deliberately to write a tour-de-force." He claimed: "Before I ever put pen to paper and set down the first words, I knew what the last word would be...Before I began I said, I am going to write a book by which, at a pinch, I can stand or fall if I never touch ink again." Oh brother. If having a total disregard for punctuation and not finishing sentences is what it takes to make a great writer, then why do we even care about education? Honestly, why? 

But I digress. All my ranting aside, I liked Faulkner the best, and As I Lay Dying is one of the most unique pieces of literature I've ever read. (But hear me loud and clear: I am not equating uniqueness with inherent goodness. Different doesn't automatically mean better.) Stream-of-consciousness is not my favorite writing technique and Faulkner was one of the pioneers of it. 

As I Lay Dying—originally published in 1930, in case I haven't mentioned it—is basically the story of Addie Bundren's death and her rural family's subsequent quest to carry her body to its final resting place in her hometown of Jefferson, Mississippi, a request she made of them before she died. The book is written from multiple points of view—no less than fifteen!—and each "chapter" (if you can even call them chapters) are narrated by different people, including a couple by Addie herself after her demise. The main characters are the Bundrens, obviously: Addie's husband Anse, and her five children, Cash, Darl, Jewel, Dewey Dell, and Vardaman. Darl probably has the most of the 59 "chapters". It's a chaotic, dark, sometimes funny, a lot of times disturbing novel. Vardaman thinks his mom is a fish. Dewey Dell is stressing over an unwanted pregnancy and trying to obtain an abortion. Addie's body isn't embalmed so the stench the Bundrens take with them everywhere is a constant topic. Anse steals from his children. Cash's leg gets broken and they try to make a cast for it out of concrete. Darl starts a fire and gets taken away to an insane asylum. I cannot over-emphasize what a strange, tragic book this is. 

How do I wrap up a review like this? I will never read As I Lay Dying again. And I wouldn't really recommend it either. But I haven't stopped thinking about it. I'll definitely read more Faulkner. But it will be a few years before I pick him up again. 

How do you feel about stream-of-consciousness writing? Do you like Faulkner, Hemingway, or Fitzgerald? And which one do you like best?

Let's Bust a Recap : A Farewell to Arms

Well, I've got my first Hemingway under my belt and it was, as Rory Gilmore warned us way back in 2002, painful. And I don't mean that in a good way.

A Farewell to Arms was Hemingway's second novel and first bestseller. Published in 1929, it is considered by many to be the premier American war novel of World War I, and it cemented Hemingway's status as one of the great American writers of the 20th century. 

A first person narrative set during the Italian campaign of World War I, A Farewell to Arms tells the story of American Frederic Henry's time serving as a lieutenant in the ambulance corps of the Italian army and his passionate affair with an English nurse called Catherine Barkley. The novel is divided into five different "books" and, in my opinion, it was a complete slog up until almost the very end of the third book, but then the last hundred pages or so were completely unputdownable. But like in a I-can't-look-away-from-this-absolute-trainwreck kind of way. Much of Hemingway's work was autobiographical in nature, and he drew on his own experiences living as an expat and serving in the Italian campaigns of World War I to write A Farewell to Arms. The inspiration for Catherine Barkley was drawn from his first love, Agnes von Kurowsky, who ultimately spurned him in real life. And apparently ruined him forever. Her literary counterpart meets a pretty bleak end. 

I don't know, you guys. I can see the value in A Farewell to Arms for its true-to-life portrayal of the First World War and the Italian campaigns. There were glimmers of brilliance in there. I mean, who am I to poo-poo one of the "great American writers of the 20th century" and the 1954 winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature? But Hemingway's sparse style just wasn't my bag. While A Farewell to Arms wasn't sexually explicit, it felt crass to me, and Hemingway's dialogue is the thing of my nightmares. If more than two people were having a conversation, Heaven help you figure out who was saying what. His ending—which he famously rewrote some forty-odd times before landing on the one he chose—left me cold. Ultimately: not a book I'd read again and also not one I'd recommend. 

However, I have struck a bargain with my friend Jon—a literary exchange, if you will—wherein for every Hemingway I read, he will read a novel by Jane Austen. Jon has Mark Twain levels of hatred for Austen based on reading like one chapter of Persuasion over ten years ago. Given my recent discovery of my distaste for Hemingway's writing, this seems like a fair deal, and given that Jon has yet to even start one of my homegirl's most excellent works, I think I'm safe from Hemingway for a couple of years at least. 

What's your take on Ernest Hemingway or any of the "great" 20th century American writers in general?

Let's Bust a Recap : Before We Were Yours

Okay, this book was extremely popular when it was published in 2017, and so many people recommended it to me. I read it last August, and maybe I'm the outlier here, but I did not like it.

Buckle up for a scathing review and possibly some spoilers, and if you're one of the ones who loved it and recommended it to me: sorry, not sorry. 

Lisa Wingate's 2017 New York Times bestseller Before We Were Yours is structured as a dual timeline, going back and forth between 1939 Memphis, Tennessee and present day Aiken, South Carolina. In 1939, we're following the story of Rill Foss who is desperately trying to keep her family together after she and her four younger siblings are kidnapped and taken to an orphanage. In the present day, we're following the story of Avery Stafford, a wealthy young lawyer from a prestigious old money Southern family with the perfect handsome fiancé to boot. A chance encounter with a confused elderly lady at a nursing home who mistakes Avery for someone else has her questioning her entire family history and sets her on "a path that will ultimately lead either to devastation or to redemption." And that's straight from the back-of-the-book blurb. Not dramatic at all.

This "historical fiction" novel (and yes, those quotes are dripping with sarcasm) is meant to highlight one of the most notorious scandals in our nation's recent history: that of Georgia Tann and the Tennessee Children's Home Society, a front for her black market adoptions which was operational from the 1920s to 1950. Tann trafficked literally thousands of children through the Home Society, and when I say the uterine cancer that took her life mere weeks before charges were brought against her was too good a death for her: I mean it. People have praised this book for bringing to light this "little known" part of history, but this scandal has been covered pretty extensively in books, podcasts, documentaries, TV, and even a movie. I'm not so sure we needed Lisa Wingate's novel. Her writing isn't bad, but she doesn't shy away from the horrific things that went down in Georgia Tann's organization including child abuse, child rape, and even child murder, and I felt sick the entire time I was reading this book. I kept waiting for a brilliant resolution to make all the misery worth it, but we never get one. 

And don't get me started on Avery's storyline. It felt like Wingate just wanted to write a Hallmark romance but have people take her seriously so she tangled it up with the most horrific scandal in our nation's history so she could get that "historical fiction" tag. While I did wonder where Rill would end up and that kept me turning the pages, there was nothing remotely mysterious about how Avery's story would turn out. You saw every beat of her dumping-her-perfect-family-approved-fiancé-for-the-laid-back-single-dad coming from a mile away. (Sorry for all the hypens.) 

Before We Were Yours has been compared to Orphan Train by readers and marketers alike, and, before I even knew that, I was definitely getting those vibes while I was reading. But compared with Christina Baker Kline's excellent novel, Wingate's Before We Were Yours felt manipulative and her manufactured happy ending fell incredibly flat for me. It wasn't the worst book I've ever read, but all things considered, it didn't add up to a good experience for me, and I wouldn't recommend this one. 

What book didn't live up to the hype for you?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Reason for God

Here we are again, recapping my most recently finished book. Generally speaking, non-fiction doesn't stay with me as long as good fiction does so when I read a book like The Reason for God, I want to recap it right away before I forget everything I thought about it. There are always exceptions to this rule, of course, but those exceptions definitely don't apply to The Reason for God as it's a library book that I wasn't able to mark up and will be returning soon so I won't even have a physical copy to refer to when writing a blog post. This was the first book selected by my book club for 2026—yes, we're trying to resurrect our poor book club—which is why I went off-list so early in the year to check out a library book instead of reading one of the 700+ unread books that live in my house. 

Tim Keller was a very popular pastor and Christian apologist who founded Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City back in 1989 which has now grown to a congregation of over 5,000. In his 2008 book The Reason for God, he urges skeptics to wrestle with their doubts about Christianity and encourages believers and non-believers alike to "rise to the level of disagreement rather than simply denouncing one another." In the first half of his book, he attempts to dismantle seven common objections to Christianity. Then he writes an "Intermission" in which he sets the stage for the second half of his book, the second half being his reasons for believing Christianity. He ends with a heartfelt appeal to his readers to examine their own motives for belief or disbelief and offers them practical advice on how to begin a journey of faith for themselves. 

Personally, I thought the first half of the book was pretty weak with chapters three (dismantling the argument that Christianity is a straitjacket) and seven (dismantling the argument that you can't take the Bible literally) being the exceptions. He makes some good points overall, but a lot of his arguments come across like the old playground taunt I know you are but what am I? If I was a skeptic, I have a hard time believing his defense would be particularly moving for me or even really give me much to think about. (But to be fair, I'm not a skeptic so I may be way off the mark.) The second half of the book in which he is giving reasons for Christianity is much stronger, although on the whole his arguments are very repetitive. He quotes other theologians a lot and to good effect...but in a way that makes me want to pick up their books instead of reading his. (Particularly the philosopher Alvin Plantinga whom I had never heard of and am making this my note to self to get my hands on one of his books.) C.S. Lewis has obviously been a huge influence in Keller's life—can't fault him for that; I'm right there with him—but if I was recommending a book to a skeptic of Christianity, I'd just go ahead and give them Lewis rather than Keller. I did really like how Keller referenced popular books, movies, and authors in making some of his points which, I think, makes The Reason for God more accessible to a 21st century audience. 

If you're reading this, I don't want you to think I'm being super critical of Keller's book. This is the first book by Keller I've ever read and after reading it, I'd be open to reading other books by him. This year, I'm reading through a daily devotional of selections from Dr. Martin Lloyd-Jones' writings, and as I was nearing the end of Keller's book, I came to a selection in my devotional on Faith and Reason that helped me pinpoint why exactly Keller's book wasn't resonating with me. Lloyd-Jones states that faith is not a matter of reason. He goes on to explain that "our reason brings us to the point where we realize that reason is not enough, and at that point we have nothing to do but submit ourselves to...faith." While Keller certainly touches on this in The Reason for God, it's not a point that gets hammered home and it's a crucial point to make in writing a book like this one. 

Overall, maybe The Reason for God could be a really helpful book for someone who is honestly looking to engage with the claims made by Christianity but having a hard time swallowing them for one reason or another. It may be helpful for Christians to be able to hold their own positions with greater clarity and greater humility. But it also may not be. I appreciated how respectful Keller was in his writing to both camps and how he encourages thoughtful discussion. I'm glad I read it, and I'm interested to see what type of discussion it will spark in our book club. 

Let's Bust a Recap : A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears

The first book I read this year was A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears by Jules Feiffer, and yes it has jumped the line of other recaps I'm still planning to write someday for the sole reason that it is my sister's all-time favorite book, and it is one of my biggest missions in life to never disappoint her in any way. (We don't mind a run-on sentence around here, sorry if you're new.)

A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears was published in 1995 and it's basically the story of Roger, a prince who makes everyone laugh all the time. But not in a good way; more in like a we-can't-be-around-him-for-too-long-or-we-will-literally-die-laughing kind of way. In order to sober him up and make him into a worthy monarch, his father, King Whatchamacallit, recruits the help of J. Wellington Wizard to send Roger on a quest to accomplish the purpose. 

The book starts out very silly. I was mildly amused and there were certain things that put me in mind of my sister's sense of humor. (There was a line about ketchup in particular that made me think, "Did this book shape Sarah's entire personality?") Jules Feiffer's style reminded me a bit of Norton Juster's in The Phantom Tollbooth, just not as clever. But then I realized Feiffer illustrated The Phantom Tollbooth so maybe that's what actually triggered the comparison? Either way, the narrator is an absolute hoot, breaking the fourth wall constantly to explain the story and certain characters to his readers. After a couple chapters of silliness though, I was starting to wonder if we would really get anywhere or if I would even ultimately enjoy the book on the whole. I thought maybe the reason Sarah likes A Barrel of Laughs so much is more for the nostalgia since she's loved it since she was a kid and oh no, what if I have to lie to her about what I think?? because obviously disappointing her to tell her I thought it was ridiculous is not an option (see above). 

But I truly and honestly had nothing to worry about. Sarah's taste is not to be questioned. She is, after all, the one who finally convinced me to read Harry Potter. As Roger's quest went on and he learned to genuinely care for others and their well-being more than just laughing his way through life, I was impressed with the way Feiffer snuck profound truths about life into his book. Because sometimes, people you thought were your friends really do turn against you for no reason and make your life harder. And sometimes, our own deep-seated insecurities and anxieties really can be our worst enemies. We really do need help from others sometimes to tell us the truth and pull us out of the funk of our own making we've descended into. Some days we're soaring, and some days we're barely hanging on. Some days we're rescuing others, and some days we need the rescue. And most importantly, life rarely goes according to plan. It is our response to the life we actually find ourselves in—not the life itself—that will determine our happiness. 

What I'm saying is: A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears is a fantastic book. And now I need to buy my own copy because Sarah lent me hers to read. You should definitely read this book too. Come for the laughs, stay for the reminder that life isn't all bad and it's how you choose to look at it that can make the difference. 

Let's Bust a Recap : Ramona Quimby

Here's the thing about Beverly Cleary: of all the books I've ever read in my entire life, Beverly Cleary can write a book that's supposed to be from a child's perspective, like it's actually from a real child's perspective. She has the uncanny ability to tap into a child's psyche so well, and it makes actual kids want to read her books. I love children's literature. Truly, it may be my very favorite genre. Children's books make it into my reading rotation every single year. And Beverly Cleary is the absolute queen of writing books about kids, for kids.  

Back in 2021, I started reading Beezus and Ramona with my nieces while they were visiting in the summer. It was just a quick trip and I wasn't quite able to finish the book with them, but of course that didn't stop me from finishing it by myself shortly after they left. Last year, during a week-long slumber party at Uncle Cody and Auntie Hannah's house, I picked up the next Ramona book to read to my niece and nephews. For the purposes of this post, I'll call them Thing One, Thing Two, and Thing Three. During that week, we flew through Ramona the Pest and Ramona the Brave. The kids immediately fell in love with Ramona and when Thing One realized there was actually a book before Ramona the Pest that I hadn't read to them, she checked it out of her school library to read for herself. If that's not a testament to Beverly Cleary's genuine connection with children, I don't know what is. For the rest of 2024, if I showed up at a family gathering without our current Ramona book, I was ordered back home to get it so total anarchy didn't ensue. (It's a good thing we all live in the same neighborhood!) We actually finished Ramona's World, the final book in the Ramona series, on Christmas day. 

There are eight books about Ramona Quimby, from Beezus and Ramona, published in 1955, all the way to Ramona's World, published in 1999. The very first book is from the perspective of Ramona's older sister Beezus who gets very annoyed with Ramona's antics but learns she can always love her little sister—even if she doesn't always like her. The following seven books are all from Ramona's perspective as she goes to kindergarten with her neighbor Howie in Ramona the Pest, up until her fourth grade year in Ramona's World. Ramona finds herself facing all sorts of challenges like bullies at school, teachers she loves and teachers she doesn't like, her dad losing his job, her family expecting a new baby, a family pet dying, making a best friend, and a beloved aunt getting engaged and married. While all these books were written and published before the twenty-first century, the struggles and triumphs, growing up and all the big feelings that go with it, are timeless, and Cleary's books have given children a protagonist they can honestly see themselves in for generations now. Thing One, Thing Two, and Thing Three were all absolutely riveted by Ramona Quimby, and the Ramona books are the only books I've ever read to them where I had the undivided attention of all three whenever I was reading. After we finished reading the entire series, I asked them each to tell me their favorite parts of the books and here's what they said:

Thing One liked when Ramona put the hard-boiled egg on her head (from Ramona Quimby, Age 8) and when she made the tiara out of burrs (from Ramona and Her Father). 

Thing Two liked it when Ramona made an engagement ring out of a worm in Ramona the Pest. (I love that Thing Two's favorite part was one that wasn't depicted in the phenomenal film adaptation starring Joey King as Ramona Quimby. Which we watched twice.)

And Thing Three loved drawing the longest picture (from Ramona and Her Father...and also from our basement because we obviously had to draw our own longest picture), and his other favorite part was when Ramona fell through the ceiling in Ramona's World. 

If my glowing review hasn't already tipped you off to my feelings about it, let me say this loud and clear: the Ramona Quimby books are an absolute treasure and I highly recommend them—specifically to be read aloud to children or for children to read for themselves. As I alluded to above, the movie is also a delight and one of my all-time favorites. Scenes from every single book are lovingly incorporated into it and I cannot get through it without laughing and sobbing—every. single. time. Don't miss out on Ramona Quimby. 

What is your favorite children's book? Seriously, please tell me. I'm always looking for good ones to ward off the cynicism that seems unavoidable in this world. 

Let's Bust a Recap : Seabiscuit

Y'all. I would read the phone book if Laura Hillenbrand wrote it. I've read Unbroken twice now; I've read her piece in The New Yorker about the sudden onset of a then unknown illness which she has suffered from ever since; and now I've finally read Seabiscuit. I think I waited so long to read it simply because it's her only other book and who knows if she'll ever write another one. Consider this my official plea to have all her freelance writing collected and offered in book format. At least all the stuff she wrote for Equus magazine. Pretty please with cherries on top?

Incidentally, I have discovered that my toxic trait (well, one of them anyway) is reading one-star reviews for objectively exceptional books. (Or maybe just my favorite books. Semantics.) One Goodreads user in their one-star review of Seabisuit said—and I quote: "I want to read about people, not horses."

FOR A BOOK ENTITLED SEABISCUIT.

Oh for the love of Lori Loughlin. 

And while Seabiscuit is certainly a thorough biography of one of the most beloved racehorses of all time, it is also a biography of three men: Charles Howard, Seabiscuit's owner; Red Pollard, Seabiscuit's best jockey; and Tom Smith, the horse trainer to end all horse trainers. 

Laura Hillenbrand first covered the subject of her 2001 biography Seabiscuit in an essay that was published in American Heritage magazine. After getting so much positive feedback, she proceeded to write a full-length book which went on to become a bestselling, award-winning masterpiece and the source material for the 2003 film starring Tobey Maguire as Red Pollard which went on to be nominated for seven Academy Awards. (The film ultimately didn't win in any of the seven categories but what can you do when you're up against the third installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy which beat it out in six of the seven categories??)

Much like her later biography Unbroken, Seabiscuit absolutely captivated me and I had a hard time putting it down. For probably a solid month while reading it and afterward, I talked Cody's ear off about every single detail and made him listen to excerpts that I'd read to him aloud. And don't get me started on those one-star reviews again. My poor husband was audience to a passionate tirade about all the idiots who wouldn't know good writing if it bit them in the armpit. 

Seabiscuit is a true underdog story and I think therein lies the appeal. Of Charles Howard, the bicycle-repairman-turned-millionaire that no one took seriously as a horse owner. Until Seabiscuit started winning. Of Tom Smith, the unconventional horse trainer that everyone ridiculed and dismissed, mocking his unorthodox methods. Until Seabiscuit started winning. And of Red Pollard, the most accident-prone jockey you ever heard of that everyone actually gave up for dead. Until he rose from the grave and saddled a horse people thought would never race again and won. 

But the undisputed star of Hillenbrand's sensational book is Seabiscuit himself. This awkward little horse with his Eggbeater gait won the hearts of the entire country back in the 1930s and he completely won mine as well. I was on the edge of my seat for every single race Hillenbrand covered and what I wouldn't give to have seen him run in person. I cried when I came to the end of the book. Charles Howard was known to silver Seabiscuit's race-worn horseshoes, mount them on ashtrays, and give them as gifts. I may or may not have done an internet search after finishing the book to see if any are still in existence and what it might cost to obtain one. (Spoiler: they're rare and completely out of my budget.)

And you guys. What jockeys would do to make weight will forever be seared into my memory after reading Seabiscuit. I somewhat expected the fasting, the sweatboxes, the laxative use. But intentionally ingesting tapeworm eggs?? Horrifying. The lengths these men would go to for their profession was life-threatening and absolutely appalling, but fascinating nonetheless.

On a final note, after finishing the book I watched—for the first time—both the 2003 film adaptation of Seabiscuit and also The Story of Seabiscuit starring Shirley Temple that came out in 1949. Neither one can touch Laura Hillenbrand's phenomenal writing and I'm sad to report that the Shirley Temple film just isn't any good at all. Whoever decided that my beloved Shirley Temple should attempt an Irish accent should be criminally tried. 

While I may not recommend Seabiscuit as widely as I recommend Unbroken, it is an absolutely brilliant piece of storytelling and a gripping bit of history. If you have any interest in horses at all, this is a book you cannot miss. 

Who's your favorite non-fiction writer?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Devil in the White City

Hello there! I think we can all agree that there is no longer any rhyme or reason to this blog. 

Do I have eight or nine other recaps sitting in drafts? Yes.

Are some of those recaps for books I read last year? Also yes.

Am I recapping the book I most recently finished reading? Another resounding yes.

Obviously, there is no order here, no posting schedule, and certainly no goals—stated or unspoken—of getting caught up in any particular timeframe. It just is what it is and that's all it'll ever be. So if you've stuck around, thank you for your loyalty and I hope you enjoy what I have to say whenever I randomly pop in to say it. 

The Devil in the White City is the tenth book I've completed from my original 2025 book list which, may I remind you, consisted of only twenty titles. I have a flickering hope of finishing three or four more from that list by the end of the year. We'll see what happens. 

But to get to the actual recap: The Devil in the White City is Erik Larson's 2003 historical non-fiction book which interweaves the stories of Daniel Burnham, the chief architect of the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition (aka the World's Fair), and H. H. Holmes, a cunning serial killer who lured his victims to his "Murder Castle" in Chicago, many while the World's Fair was going on from May to October of 1893. 

Larson has been lauded for the novelistic style he brings to writing his factual subject matter, and The Devil in the White City is easily his most famous book. So many people have recommended it to me, and I've been meaning to read it for ages. I bought a copy back in 2018 and, as you can see in the photograph, I've even been collecting Larson's other books since then. I knew I wanted to read The Devil in the White City first, and I actually put it on my book list a couple years ago, but just didn't get to it. I was determined to finally read it this year, and my sister-in-law agreed to buddy read it with me which is sometimes just the kick in the pants I need to get started. 

So what did I think? Larson's writing is very good and he definitely does have a talent for bringing what could be dry material to life. His coverage of what it took for Chicago and Burnham specifically to bring the World's Fair to fruition was actually fascinating. What Burnham managed to accomplish in just two years' time despite the physical (devastating windstorms, fires, Chicago's challenging soil) and financial (the Panic of 1893!) hardships he faced is nothing short of miraculous. Larson's handling of Dr. H. H. Holmes and his elaborate "Murder Castle" was deeply unsettling and extremely compelling. I particularly enjoyed the saga of George Ferris and his architecturally "impossible" Wheel. I love when a book I'm reading connects and contextualizes things outside of itself for me that I wasn't expecting and in The Devil in the White City, I felt like my own personal little Easter eggs were popping up throughout the book. Like how Olmstead, the landscape architect of the World's Fair was simultaneously working on the Biltmore, or how Walt Disney's father Elias was enamored with the World Fair and visited several times. Larson also details how Holmes managed to dispose of several of his victims by having their skeletons articulated and selling them which wasn't suspicious because of how widely accepted grave robbing was at the time. Medical schools in particular were so desperate for cadavers that they didn't ask questions about where bodies came from and would even send envoys with armed guards to rob graves. Unapologetically! This gave me a deeper appreciation for Robert Louis Stevenson's short story "The Body Snatcher" which I read last year. 

But for all that, I felt like I was reading two separate books. I don't think Larson successfully ties his subject matter together, and when I got close to the end of the book and he threw in even more subplots like the assassination of Chicago's extraordinarily popular mayor, and a bit about Theodore Dreiser, it felt very disorienting to me. Don't get me wrong, it was all very interesting and it definitely hasn't put me off Larson as an author, but it wasn't cohesive and I'm a little surprised at just how mainstream The Devil in the White City has become. It will be very interesting as I continue to read Larson's books if The Devil in the White City will stand out for me as his best. My mom has read this one and also Dead Wake, his book about the sinking of the Lusitania, and she has said that Dead Wake is far and away the better of the two. That's probably the one I'll read next, but I'm also very curious to compare The Devil in the White City to his 2006 offering entitled Thunderstruck in which he employs the same device of interweaving two historical events. 

For a history buff like me, The Devil in the White City was a good read, but at this point, I wouldn't recommend Erik Larson over say, Laura Hillenbrand or David McCullough. We'll see how I feel once I have a few more of his books under my belt. 

Have you read any Erik Larson? If you've read any of his other books, did you think they were better than The Devil in the White City?

Let's Bust a Recap : Pollyanna

Well, despite the fact that I have no less than nine recaps sitting in drafts—some still from last year—I've spent this week blogging about my three most recently finished books. And none from my 2025 book list, to boot! C'est la vie. 

I've loved the 1960 film adaptation of Pollyanna since I was a little kid, and while I thought it would probably be lovely to read the 1913 novel by Eleanor H. Porter that inspired this classic, I've never come across a copy or made it a point to seek one out. 

But when my thirteen year old niece got her assigned reading list for school this year and Pollyanna was on it, I ordered a copy immediately and told her I'd happily read it with her.

And what a joy.

If you're unfamiliar with Pollyanna, that extraordinary child, well, don't feel bad because as it turns out, none of my nieces have yet seen the film. I know. It is a situation I will rectify as soon as possible. Pollyanna is the story of an eleven year old orphan sent to live with her dutiful Aunt Polly Harrington. After getting a pair of crutches instead of the hoped-for doll in a missionary barrel, Pollyanna's father makes a game out of finding something to be glad for in every situation. After Pollyanna's father dies and she's sent to live with Aunt Polly, she immediately begins a personal campaign to convert the inhabitants of Beldingsville to her glad way of life—except Aunt Polly who won't tolerate any mention of Pollyanna's father. And so our titular character became a byword for every eternal optimist. (Although calling someone a "Pollyanna" seems to be fading out of the vernacular to my everlasting chagrin.)

For the first eleven or twelve chapters, my beloved movie adaptation starring the perfectly cast Hayley Mills as sunshine-y—but not saccharine—Pollyanna seemed to follow the book to the letter, and I truly wondered if I would get much out of the reading experience. But as is almost unfailingly the case, the book had so much more to offer. One of the biggest changes was making young John Pendleton from Porter's beloved book into a much older man in the film adaptation. In the book, it's more of a mystery who Aunt Polly's scorned lover is and Mr. Pendleton is a strong contender. In my opinion, Porter's original story makes the adoption of Jimmy Bean so much more meaningful. The other big change is the nature of Pollyanna's horrible accident and subsequent care she received from her aunt and the town. The book proves so much better, but I'll always love Walt Disney for bringing this one to life on the screen. 

In case you couldn't already tell, I absolutely loved Pollyanna. It had all the hallmarks of an All-Time Favorite: it made me laugh and cry, I couldn't put it down but was sad when it ended, and it's a book I'm sure I'll reach for again. Yes, read the book; and yes, watch Hayley Mills bring Pollyanna to life. 

So there you go: a short and sweet review for this short and sweet book. What things make you glad?  

Let's Bust a Recap : Desiring God

In 2003, the third edition of John Piper's seminal work, Desiring God, was published. It was big that year with one of the circles in my church's youth group so, naturally, being the bookworm that I am, I expressed an interest in reading it and my Dad got me a copy for Christmas. Well, I tried to start it a couple different times but never got much farther than the introduction. It's just not very easy to read. And it took me a while to get into it this time around as well. But your girl's not a quitter so I muscled my way through it and now I have a lot of thoughts about it that feel very disjointed so this recap is turning out to be a real struggle. 

Let me begin by saying: overall, I agree with pretty much everything Piper says in this book. It's Biblically sound and doctrinally I align with him.

But let me follow that up immediately with: I fundamentally disagree with the term "Christian hedonist" and as this entire 400 page book is a defense of this label, it was tough sledding at times. Piper himself is quick to admit that his pet phrase is shocking and that many respected theologians he is friends with don't appreciate it either. And he gives his reader permission to dismiss the vocabulary, if not the actual concept. So I have. You will never catch me calling myself a "Christian hedonist" and here's why. Words have meaning. And when you say certain words to people who don't have the time to read a whole book about why that word should mean something different than what they think, you're liable to give them the completely wrong idea about what you're saying. 

Piper quotes Saint Augustine early in the book:

If I were to ask you why you have believed in Christ, why you have become Christians, every man will answer truly, "For the sake of happiness."

This sums up Piper's thesis quite nicely and for the entirety of Desiring God, Piper quotes other thinkers and writers to great effect. So much so that I almost appreciated his quotations more than his original writing. And I'm not mad at that. The idea that as a Christian I should strive to find and do find all my happiness in God and that I cannot be truly happy apart from God is one I wholeheartedly agree with. He works out this concept for the reader in nine different areas of the Christian life including conversion, prayer, money, marriage, suffering, etc. And like I said at the beginning, I agree with his conclusions. The thing that makes this book so difficult to read is his writing. I would start a chapter and within the first quarter of the chapter, I would grasp exactly what he was trying to convey. And then the chapter went on unnecessarily for another three quarters. He would muddy up his clearly stated premise, and then at the end of each chapter offer another clear summary of his belief. Ultimately, I think this book could have accomplished his mission with about half the word count. 

This came as a bit of a curveball for me as the only other Piper I've read (This Momentary Marriage which I read in 2020) I praised as being so clear and straightforward (if a bit repetitive). But given that Desiring God was the third book Piper ever wrote and it came over twenty years—and over forty books!—before This Momentary Marriage, perhaps that makes sense. 

The greatest value for me in reading Desiring God was the reminder, the argument that being a Christian is supposed to be a joyful, happy thing. Piper rightly states in his book that so often in Christendom, the command to deny ourselves is misinterpreted to mean that if we're coming to Christ in a desire for our happiness, our motives are selfish and therefore, invalid. It can feel exhausting at times to be obedient to God and so we like to make that exhaustion in and of itself a virtue. But how better can we glorify God—our chief aim in life—than by being exuberantly, abundantly happy in Him? 

Would I recommend Desiring God? Not to everyone. If you're having a difficult time reconciling how to come to God seeking your own happiness while simultaneously giving Him all the glory, this is your book. If you're feeling cynical and hopelessly weighted down in your Christian walk, give this book a try. I'm definitely glad I read it, though it's not one I would necessarily pick up again. I am looking forward to reading The Pleasures of God which is the next book in Piper's unofficial Desiring God trilogy which concludes with his book Future Grace. The Pleasures of God is my husband's favorite book by Piper and he recommended Desiring God for my book list this year mainly so I could get to The Pleasures of God next.  

The TL;DR version: good, not great; glad I read it, probably wouldn't read again.

What do you think of when you hear the term "Christian hedonist"?

Let's Bust a Recap : Tea with Elephants

Believe it or not, I am still trying to catch up on recaps for books I read last year, and today we're going to cover one of them. Despite this book being by one of my all-time favorite authors with a title that sounds tailor-made for me, it left me with a bad taste in my mouth so I've just been putting off writing this recap even though I've pretty much known exactly what I want to say since finishing this one shortly after it was published last October. 

I mean, "Tea with Elephants"?! Come on. Do y'all remember when I wrote an entire blog post about a tea cup my sister-in-law sent me that was shaped like an elephant? I would have bought this book based on the title alone no matter who the author was, but the fact that Robin Jones Gunn wrote it meant I pre-ordered it immediately after it was announced and opened it up to read as soon as it arrived in the mail. This should have been an easy homerun, and for the most part I really enjoyed it but you guys, ugh. It just didn't do it for me. 

In this brand new series that Robin Jones Gunn is calling "Suitcase Sisters" (which is funny because this book fits solidly into her Sisterchicks format so why the new series?), best friends Fern and Lily end up on the trip of a lifetime to Kenya together, but both arrive carrying some heavy emotional baggage—recent job loss, a strained marital relationship, death of a close family member—and throughout their time together, they do what girlfriends do best: help each other process and heal. 

Like I said, it was mostly a solid offering from an author I love. The descriptions of the lush Kenyan landscape, the exotic animals, and the warm and welcoming people were right on the money. The entitled young influencer Lily and Fern encountered was instantly recognizable. The little Katie Weldon Easter egg for longtime readers was fun. 

But somewhere about halfway through this novel, Lily starts bringing up the fact that Fern has never had a baby and pushing the idea on her even though at no point did Fern bring this up on her own or ask for Lily's opinion. This was not part of the aforementioned baggage that either woman brought with them on the trip. And Fern has a stepson with her husband that she mothered and helped raise. By the end of their trip together, Fern has not only decided she now wants a baby, but when she gets home and informs her husband of this, they immediately get pregnant. This rubbed me so wrong. Now, full disclosure: I am the same age as Fern and Lily in this book, and I also have never experienced pregnancy or childbirth. Whether Robin Jones Gunn intended it or not, the underlying message that your worth as a woman can not be fully realized unless you have brought new life into this world through your body is so damaging. Especially to the countless women who so badly want children and for whatever reason, haven't had any. When I married my husband, I wanted a big family. I wanted to adopt, I wanted to be pregnant, I wanted a house full of kids, and my husband was on board. Over thirteen years later and God did not make us parents. And that's okay. It hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows and smiles, but can I just stand up on this soapbox for a minute and say this loudly for the people in the back: you can be a woman and have a joy-filled, God-glorifying, fully satisfying life without ever pushing a baby out of your body. You really can. 

Just for funsies after finishing this book, I did a Google search for books—novels specifically—about women who have dealt with infertility. I found a lengthy list of popular ones on Goodreads. After reading reviews of the top fifteen or twenty in which every single woman or couple dealing with infertility ended up with a healthy child by the end of the book: I gave up. I'm not one to complain about representation in media (I mean, hello, I'm a straight white American-born woman, what do I really have to complain about?), but if any of y'all are sitting on a really great novel in which the female protagonist starts out wanting a big family, for literally any reason discovers that is not going to be her reality, and then she embraces that reality by the end: please pass that title along, thanks.

I know this recap got a little rant-y, and we even entered some spoiler-y territory as well, but I felt blindsided as I read Tea with Elephants and I obviously had some Big Feelings about it. So would I recommend it? I mean, if you want to read Robin Jones Gunn, this isn't the book I'd press into your hands. But if you don't have any underlying trauma surrounding infertility or growing your family, this might be a great option for you. 

Did you ever get blindsided by a book you expected to really love?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Summer I Turned Pretty

Oh hey there! I let another two months slip by without blogging a single thing so I'd say it's high time to revive my little corner of the internet...at least for the time being. I'm hopelessly behind on recaps but I've been too busy having a fabulous summer to worry about keeping up with the blog. My best friend Amy came to visit me twice in July and we decided to read The Summer I Turned Pretty trilogy together. I'm pretty sure she finished all three books before I even made it through the first one, but I finally finished them and I'm ready to talk about it.

A few years ago, our fledgling—now defunct—book club read Jenny Han's To All the Boys trilogy, and we all loved it. According to the internet, Han is actually best known for The Summer I Turned Pretty books which she wrote first so after reading and loving To All the Boys, I thought to myself, "Maybe someday I'll pick up The Summer I Turned Pretty." 

I also thought to myself, "The Summer I Turned Pretty could not possibly be as good as To All the Boys, so maybe I'll leave it alone." And I went back and forth like this every time I happened to think about it. So goes the typical internal struggle of your average bookworm. Or at least this bookworm. And then one day as I was scrolling Goodreads, I saw that one of my friends was starting To All the Boys and had previously given The Summer I Turned Pretty five stars. I immediately tapped out a comment detailing my dilemma, and she expressed the similar problem of having read The Summer I Turned Pretty first and loving it so much that she wasn't sure To All the Boys could live up to the hype. Well that did it. I'd read The Summer I Turned Pretty for myself and finally get to the bottom of my conundrum. 

SPOILER: To All the Boys I've Loved Before is far and away the superior trilogy. You just can't beat that killer premise. 

As it happened, I began reading the trilogy the same week the final season premiered on Amazon Prime. It seemed like the whole internet had divided into #TeamConrad or #TeamJeremiah, and even people in my real life were talking about it. At absolutely no point during the vicious cycle of my Jenny Han quandary did I have any intention of watching the show and even more so now that I have read the books I have zero desire to watch it. I am firmly in the camp of if-you-date-two-brothers-you-probably-have-no-business-ending-up-with-either-one-of-them. 

In case you were wondering what this trilogy is even about: I can basically sum it up by saying that over the course of three books, we get a front row seat to our protagonist Belly Conklin's angst over what to do about her lifelong love for Conrad Fisher when his younger brother (her best friend) Jeremiah Fisher confesses his love for her. The first book is completely from Belly's perspective during the summer of her 16th birthday. Every summer of young Belly's life, including the summer she was still in utero, has been spent at Cousins Beach with her mom, brother, and her mom's best friend and her two sons. Belly is the youngest of the four kids and has always felt left out of the boys' club, but this particular summer, she's no longer on the fringe of things. The second book is also mostly from Belly's perspective, but we also get to see behind the curtain into Jeremiah's perspective. And in the final installment of the trilogy, we get a few glimpses into Conrad's perspective. 

It wasn't great, but I will say that by the halfway point of the third book, I was invested and had to know how it would all turn out. Amy and I agreed that the middle book, It's Not Summer Without You, was the strongest of the trilogy, but differed when it came to whether the first or final book came in second: Amy preferred The Summer I Turned Pretty, while I actually really liked the ending Han managed to pull off in We'll Always Have Summer. 

Overall, I don't really understand why these books were such a hit. Belly wasn't a particularly likeable protagonist, and she never really grew up until we were down to the literal last pages. And as for the Fisher boys, I wasn't exactly swooning over either one. But to each their own. As far as my personal recommendation goes, skip The Summer I Turned Pretty but don't miss out on To All the Boys I've Loved Before.

Did you read this trilogy or watch the very popular Prime adaptation? Were you #TeamConrad, #TeamJeremiah, or #TeamGrowUpAndMoveOn? 

Let's Bust a Recap : A Separate Peace

Okay, here's the thing: A Separate Peace was the first book I finished this year, and to be completely 100 with you, it's what threw this whole blog into a tailspin. How do you recap something so good? I've faced this problem before, but after ten years of blogging, getting the flu at the end of last year, and all the real life in between: I just wasn't up for the challenge. 

And I'm still not up for it. But we're doing it anyway because this book deserves its corner on the blog. 

On its face, John Knowles' 1959 debut novel is a young man's coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of World War II at a New England prep school. At the beginning of this novel, Gene Forrester returns to The Devon School fifteen years after leaving it and reflects on his time there from the summer of 1942 to the summer of 1943. At that time of his life, he's sixteen and living at Devon with his best friend and roommate Finny. Quiet, intellectual Gene and carefree, athletic Finny are about as unlike as two boys can be, but they are the closest of friends and in the summer of '42 they form a secret society with their friends, Finny seemingly doing his best to shut out the war and cling to their childhood for a few more precious weeks while the rest of the boys are trying to figure out how to grow up and get to the war. Gene in particular is going through a difficult process of self-discovery in regards to his friendship with Finny, moving from an envy and one-sided rivalry with his chum to the realization of Finny's quality and wanting to emulate him. 

It's heartbreaking. Like, I think my heart actually broke while I was reading this book. The National Review called it "a masterpiece", and truly it is nothing short of one. Much of this book is autobiographical in nature, and I think that's what makes it so successful. John Knowles went to a New Hampshire prep school during WWII and served in the US Army Air Forces at the very end of the war after finishing school. None of his other novels garnered the same success as A Separate Peace or continued to live in the public consciousness like this one did. It's still assigned reading in some school curriculums. 

I actually drew this title out of my TBR Jar last year and read about half of it before setting it aside to read some library books before they were due. This was a book that I could read slowly because every word stayed with me no matter how much time passed between the times I opened it. I put A Separate Peace in the same class with The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or The Optimist's Daughter: I want to convey how good it is, but I'm at a loss for words. I want to recommend it to you, but maybe not if you won't appreciate it. It's just brilliant. I'll be sharing an excerpt that broke me on Wednesday. Maybe that will give you a sense. 

How do you feel about coming-of-age stories?