The Night of the Gun Now in Paperback

David Carr’s The Night of the Gun is now out in paperback. For all you fans of memoirs, this is one not to miss.

“Memories may be based on what happened to begin with, but they are reconstituted each time they are recalled — with the most-remembered events frequently the least accurate,” writes David Carr in his book, “The Night of the Gun.”

By challenging the foundation of a memoir, memory itself, The New York Times media columnist and culture reporter Carr has reinvented the genre. In “The Night of the Gun,” Carr applies investigative reporting skills to his own life, revisiting the people, places and events that comprised his time as a crack cocaine addict.

While memory tells him that the 1988 birth of his twin daughters, Erin and Meaghan, set him on a straight course to recovery and redemption, his deep dive into the past, including police records, medical reports and interviews (all of which he recorded and videotaped for accuracy) construct a different narrative.

Read the rest of my review, “The Night of the Gun Reinvents the Memoir,” here.

Little Bee

The inside jacket reads “We don’t want to tell you what happens in this book. It is a truly special story and we don’t want to spoil it… The magic is in how the story unfolds.”

What might have been an empty marketing ploy turns out to be genuine. Little Bee is a novel to cherish; Little Bee is a character you will not forget.

Chris Cleave, a journalist for The Guardian, tells the story of two characters: Little Bee, a Nigerian refugee who has been locked up in a British detention center, and Sarah, an editor for a women’s magazine. The mystery – and beauty of this fictional tale – is in how and why they meet.

At the intersection of ethnic violence in the Niger delta and London city life, Cleave exposes some of the toughest issues, from globalization, political greed and oil wars, to the equally painful, but more personal realities of damaged relationships and family. His sharp writing and commitment to the characters’ voices provide a steady foundation on which the turbulent story develops.

The most poignant moments emerge when Little Bee contrasts her current experience with life in Nigeria. She asks “What is an adventure?” and answers her own question:

“That depends on where you are starting from. Little girls in your country, they hide in the gap between the washing machine and the refrigerator and they make believe they are in the jungle, with green snakes and monkeys all around them. Me and my sister, we used to hide in a gap in the jungle, with green snakes and monkeys all around us, and make believe that we had a washing machine and a refrigerator. You live in a world of machines and you dream of things with beating hearts. We dream of machines because we see where beating hearts have left us.”

Little Bee’s innocent view of London is backfilled by her memories of Nigeria. She doesn’t understand horror films because for her, horror is a “film in her memory” that is always playing, and that she “cannot walk out of.” In her new environment, she wonders how to describe things to the “girls back home” – wood floors inside a house instead of piles of firewood, or the “ghosts” who don’t look at each other or touch each other as they hustle to work.

Cleave forces the reader to encounter everyday life with a new outlook and question which is more powerful: cultural difference or individual likeness. In Little Bee, worlds and perspectives merge to expose beauty beneath unattractive political and personal veneers.

(My review from Women’s Adventure Magazine.)

Great Fiction Run

Whenever I’m back east visiting family for a month at a time (usually in May and October), I seem to find consistently good books, back-to-back-to-back reads that I devour and can’t wait to recommend. Is it because I have more time to read? Or is it because I go to one of my favorite indie bookstores, R.J. Julia, at least three times a week?!

This trip east (CT, Maine, NY) doesn’t disappoint. Here are my recent reads and reccos:

Little Bee, Chris Cleave – full review coming out shortly in Women’s Adventure Magazine. I can’t recommend this book enough! Read slowly and savor the writing, the characters, the story. Mmmm…. “Sad words are just another beauty. A sad story means, this storyteller is alive.“

The Story of a Marriage, Andrew Sean Greer (just out in paperback) – witty, poignant, sharp and bound to be forever relevant. “How hollow, to have no secrets left; you shake yourself and nothing rattles.”

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson – good beach read/mystery for more serious readers who snub mass market mysteries (guilty as charged!) 

Genesis, Bernard Beckett – wow! I need someone else to read this so we can DISCUSS!! “Human spirit is the ability to face the uncertainty of the future with curiosity and optimism. It is the belief that problems can be solved, differences resolved. It is a type of confidence. And it is fragile. It can be blackened by fear, and by suspicion.”

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, John Boyne – quick young adult read; creative tale, but nothing trumps The Book Thief as far as stories on WWII Germany.

Little Bee

I’m blown away by Chris Cleave’s Little Bee. One of the best novels I’ve read in a long time.

I need to simmer on this a bit before writing, but stay tuned for a review. In the meantime, fiction lovers: keep an eye out for this winner!

Mr. Cleave: Bravo.

“To survive, you have to look good or talk good. But to end your story well – here is the truth – you have to talk yourself out of it.“

Lost in the Twitter Vortex

Has anyone else’s blogging suffered since they entered the world of micro-blogging?

I am shocked that I am now a regular Tweeter (@TaraDK) but quite honestly, I love the connections it breeds, from books/ authors/ publishers (a thriving community on Twitter!) to technology pundits/ reporters/ vendors. The only downside of the vortex is that it has distracted me from my original blog baby – Mingling with Words. (And alas! even as I am back here in the WordPress dashboard, I am still thinking and writing about my other love: Twitter.)

More on Twitter in future posts, but for now, let’s talk adventure reads…

For the history/biography fan, check out Linda Colley’s The Ordeal of Elizabeth Marsh: A Woman in World History, which I reviewed for Women’s Adventure Magazine in March. (Twitterized Review Title: One Woman’s Wonderlust, 200 Years Removed.)

And, just in:  a review of A Pearl in the Storm, by Tori Murden McClure. (Keeping an Even Keel: A Solo Trip across the Ocean.)

Happy reading – and of course…

Happy tweeting!

Must Read… Together

My book club recently read Beautiful Boy, a true story by David Sheff about his son’s meth addiction. I tend to gravitate towards these hard core drug memoirs, because there’s an intensity and frenetic energy to the voices that make for a compelling read. If it’s well written, I want to read it…. and in this case, Sheff doesn’t disappoint.

It is heartwrenching and scary, drawing the reader into the same cycle of denial/forgiveness/hope that he goes through as a father.  And moreso than other memoirs of this ilk, it brings up heaps of questions for debate and consideration: Is addiction a disease or a choice? Why does our society treat addicts as outcasts, and is that hampering the chance for recovery? Are current rehab options productive and viable? What can a parent do to help a child stay off the path of addiction?

When reading Beautiful Boy, there were times when I felt Sheff was holding back, or maybe only telling half-truths. It was only when I read Tweak, by his son Nic, that I grasped the power of perspective.

Whether it’s in marriage, friendships, work situations or family interactions, there are always at least two sides to every story. If two people witness the same car crash, for example, their perspectives are bound to be wildly different. The one-two punch of Beautiful Boy and Tweak couldn’t illustrate this more clearly.

Did Nic have a fulfilling childhood of surfing, swimming, writing? Or was he pressured to grow up too early, always around adults? How did his parents’ divorce and remarriages impact him emotionally? This isn’t an exercise in blame; rather, it points to the fact that parents reading Beautiful Boy should not only rely on the father’s perspective, but should read Tweak as well, to get Nic’s viewpoint. Granted, the truth lies somewhere in between, but at least we are presented with the chance to seek more than a single narrative.

For more on David and Nic Sheff, check out these links:

• Nic Sheff, David Sheff Talk about Life after Meth Addiciton
• A Twice-Told Tale of Addiction: by Father, by Son

The Story of Sushi

Check out Women’s Adventure Magazine for my latest book review: Appreciating the Art of Fish and Rice.

In Japan, sushi is a man’s world. Male chefs have defended the sacred space behind the sushi bar with claims that women don’t have the reflexes needed for knife work; that makeup, lotion and perfume ruin the flavor of fish and rice; that women’s warm hands cook the raw fish just by handling it.  (In fact, studies show that women have colder hands than men.)

Read more…

Reading is Sexy

Thanks to my friend, and fabulous design colleague, Angela Knightley for creating these images for The Next Page Bookstore, the indie shop where once a week I escape my “real” job to lose myself in books….

When a Crocodile Eats the Sun

Check out Women’s Adventure Magazine for my latest book review…  When A Crocodile Eats the Sun: A Memoir of Africa, by Peter Godwin.

“Few authors have the power of perspective to elevate a memoir’s relevance beyond their individual story. Peter Godwin is the exception.”

Ordinary Miracles

Last time I traveled to California, I sat at San Jose International Airport waiting for my flight to be called, hooked up to my iPod and distracted by my book, when a man whose plane had just arrived entered the gate with arms outstretched in a “Y” above his head. He was mumbling, as if on a cell phone with one of those wireless speakers. Something about his excited presence was out of place. But he was smiling. No, truly beaming. Was he about to greet his wife or a friend?

He looked right at me and briefly caught my eye. Not usually one to avoid connecting with people this way, for some reason I turned away, uncomfortable with such direct eye contact.  Was I mistrusting because I was at the airport where incessant loudspeaker chatter dictated the threat level and therefore how scared I should be of the slightest anomaly? Of a man who acts more boldly than the typical airport automaton? Of a man smiling?  

As he passed by me, I heard him call out: “I’m in America! My first time in San Jose! What a great country!” with arms still extended, truly savoring the moment.

I finally found my smile, too late to connect with him, but amazed at the simple joy of what I just witnessed. A few other passengers waiting for the plane to DIA finally looked up from their laptops and we exchanged small, contented smiles. I started tearing up, thinking about this country and thinking about Obama.

I don’t know who the man was or why he came to the U.S., but I am so very lucky to have shared the experience with him, even if in a very small way.  As I sat there taking it all in, I noticed Sarah McLaughlin’s “Ordinary Miracle” playing on my iPod, a perfect soundtrack for the moment. 

I agree with him: this can be a great country. So here’s to good thoughts for a great country on inauguration day…  and for many more ordinary miracles to come.