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The Informer
Cam, Charlie, Cruella, Christie

Cam, Charlie, Cruella, Christie

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Five books consumed this month, along with turkey, stuffing, and son John’s yummy pot roast. Thanksgiving included book shopping and book reading. Book 1: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl Grandson Cam and I read aloud a chapter or three together whenever we could these past few months. When he jumped in providing distinctive character voices for Willy Wonka and Grandpa Joe, I wanted to shout: “Theater kid! He’s a theater kid!” Well done, Cam. His thoughts: Charlie…

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Dracula
Witches, Vampires, and a mouse named Algernon

Witches, Vampires, and a mouse named Algernon

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October’s books were packed with Halloween vibes this year. Despite my dear mother’s DNA, I remain a scaredy cat when it comes to evil witches and things that go bump in the night. Nevertheless, I made it through some classic works without having to hide under the covers in fear of bad dreams. (Full disclosure: I’m still not in any hurry to watch any of the film versions.) Book 1: The Witches by Roald Dahl Witches are everywhere, according to…

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Agatha Christie
Counterfeit Christie

Counterfeit Christie

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September was a month of reading three novels from the 1800s and two from the 1900s. When, in the more contempory book, the characters were on social media and making video calls, it was quite a shock. But the biggest shock of all was to discover that Agatha Christie mystery on my shelf … wasn’t. Book 1: What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge Here’s another children’s book I somehow missed as a child. This novel is set in the 1860s…

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A month of reading confusion

A month of reading confusion

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We’ve all heard “don’t judge a book by its cover.” This month, I learned not to judge a book by its title. Or a perceived typo. It’s been a month of reading confusion. Book 1: A Circle in the Fire and Other Stories by Flannery O’Connor Flannery O’Connor is one heck of an Irish name, so naturally I looked forward to his tales from my ancestors’ land. Ah, but there the confusion lies: Flannery was a woman. She was a…

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Mom reading outside; Bill in belly, 1964
One book, two titles

One book, two titles

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Yesterday evening, it was time to choose which book to read next. I select at least a few fancy Folio Society volumes each month, as the collection was lovingly built by my parents. As I open each new (to me) classic, I look for hints that Mom or Dad (or both) may have read it years ago. That just makes it more special. They were both tidy souls and so there aren’t any smudges or tears. But once in a…

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This Much is True
Better read than reeled

Better read than reeled

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By sheer coincidence, all of July’s reads are also available as films or TV shows. From Where the Crawdads Sing to Hillbilly Elegy, they all moved from the page to screen. Which is better? I’ll probably never know, as I’d rather read than watch. But since I’m a member of “the book is always better than the movie” society, you know how I’d vote. (The one generally accepted exception, of course, being Jaws.) Book 1: Benjamin Franklin: His Life As…

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hedgehog fine china and books
Postcards from the hedge

Postcards from the hedge

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Postcard 1: Six decades of hedgehog love As proof that memories and assumptions can be faulty, let me confess that I’d always believed my first encounter with a hedgehog was through Mom and her love of Beatrix Potter characters. We brought those tiny story books – just the right size for a toddler’s hands – home from the library every chance we got. I was just four years old when I met a hedgehog by the name of Mrs. Tiggle-Winkle:…

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The Girrls of Slender Means
Books of the post-war era

Books of the post-war era

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Each month as I sit down to write about the books I’ve read, I look for a theme. It’s never planned out ahead of time, but sometimes a theme does emerge. This time, it’s stories about the post-war era. Not all of them, but five (if you count The Longest Day) out of six is a theme, right? Book 1: The Diary That Changed the World by Otto Frank Over the years, I’ve read plenty of good books about Anne…

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My diary from 1970

My diary from 1970

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The little red diary from my moving-away party in June 1970 is only two-thirds complete. Our family was getting ready to move from Pittsfield, Mass., to Fairfield, Conn., that summer. That diary gave me – a 12-year-old middle child – a place to be excited as well as miserable. Fifty-four years later (ack!), the diary is sitting on a shelf here in our home. I’ve been tempted to pitch it for years. Last night, I decided to take a look…

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1944 History in the Making - crop
A young girl’s D-Day poem

A young girl’s D-Day poem

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Mom and Dad these past several days, knowing they were just 14 years old when D-Day occurred on June 6, 1944. The 80th anniversary of D-Day commemoration brought tears to my eyes, watching news coverage of the war veterans – some of whom had stormed the beaches of Normandy – honored and paying tribute to those who filled the cemeteries after the horrific battles. While reading The Longest Day by Cornelius Ryan over the…

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