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On September 9th, Eleanor Sullivan will be joining us at our Central West End store to talk about her new Singular Villages mystery, Graven Images. Here’s a thing you need to know about Eleanor Sullivan: she claims Les Misérables as one of the five Broadway shows that changed her life.

Here’s a thing you need to know about me: I am obsessed with Les Misérables.

As my coworkers know all too well, I actually can’t shut up about it. I’ve watched the musical more times than I care to admit. I saw the movie four times in theaters. Some version of the soundtrack is a permanent fixture in my car’s CD player. My dream cast involves an actor that sings entirely in Spanish. My favorite character is, 50% of the time, not even said by name in the libretto. I’m currently in the middle of reading two different translations of the book.  My cat’s name is Valjean.

That’s how far gone I am, friends.

This summer, the Muny is doing a production of Les Misérables, and you might plan on going to see it (I highly recommend it, as my personal dream cast member Norm Lewis is playing Javert). I’m here to tell you that before you do, you should really read up.

Are you crazy?! you ask. You want me to read a 1400 page novel by July?!

Not….necessarily. You have options.

For Newbies (to the show):

Saw the movie in theaters and can’t seem to get enough of Fantine and co.? Check out Les Misérables: From Stage To Screen. This gorgeous and fairly comprehensive guide tracks the show from its conception through Broadway runs, international productions, touring companies, and anniversary specials, concluding with a rundown of the making of the Oscar-nominated film. What’s really special about this book, though, is that it has pockets chock full of replica memorabilia, from ticket stubs to posters to original costume sketches to libretto samples (with director’s notes!) to movie call sheets. This is your one-stop-shop for catching up with all things musical.

For Newbies (to this world):

Want to share your love of Les Misérables with your young children, but don’t think they’re quite ready for Hugo’s classic novel? Cozy Classics has an absolutely adorable board book version, illustrated with beautiful needle-felted figures, that gets the point across in a lot fewer words, while helping teach your children about such important thematic elements as “Poor,” “Run,” and, of course, the central message of Les Mis, “Love.”

For Newbies (to the novel):

You’ve seen the musical, you’ve seen the movie, and now, you think you’re ready to give the novel a try. Maybe you attempted to read it in high school, and balked at its length (or you had to return it to the library before you could finish). I would suggest reading the Signet Classics paperback edition, translated by Lee Fahnestock and Norman MacAfee. It’s the edition I started with, and retains all the elegance of Hugo’s prose without making it dense and unreadable. Plus, shorter chapters for easy breaking points! Trust me, it’s a book you’ll want to stop occasionally and reflect on for a while before picking up again. It’s not abridged, so you’ll still have to wade through the 100 page digressions on the Battle of Waterloo and the Paris sewer system, but you’ll also emerge with a much better understanding of your favorite musical characters, the June Rebellion (not the French Revolution!), and the story’s central message of optimism, love, and redemption. (Also, getting through Waterloo is like a badge of honor. They should make t-shirts!).

For Seasoned Veterans:

Have you, like me, seen countless viewings of the musical, film, and have already torn through the book at least once? Time to pick up the Word Cloud Classics edition! Not only will it look spectacular sitting on your bookshelf, but the translation by Isabel Hapgood is a bit loftier, probably reminiscent of the prose of Hugo’s day, and will make for some fascinating comparisons to the Signet Classics translation. Plus, no matter the translation, your second reading of Les Mis is always more fun, and more revealing, than your first!

See? You have options. Don’t think of Les Mis as that book your professor wanted you to read in college and you Spark Noted (and after all, you’d already seen the musical). Think of it as delving into a complex and fascinating new (old) world, full of remarkable characters and themes still entirely resonant today, that you’ve only scratched the surface of. That’s the wonderful thing about Les Misérables: 150 years later, and there’s still more to see, more to talk about, more to learn, that’s just as fascinating now as it was then.

It's Monday! What Are You Reading?is a meme hosted by Book Journey with a children's/YA version at Teach Mentor Texts.

I started out last week by finishing The Story of Mankind by Hendrick Willem van Loon, updated by John Merriman, the 1922 Newbery Award winner.  As I said last week, I loved this book.  At least, van Loon's portion of it.  The added chapters are significantly more dry and move much more slowly.  If you're reading it just for the reading experience and not for the comprehensive history (and you're not a completist like me), you might want to skip them.

I followed that with The Tale of Willy Willys by Ben Hilliker, illustrated by Robery Shay.  This is a charming picture book (on the longer side) featuring the fictionalized tale of a 1926 car who found a new home with a couple who shares the Willys name.  There's lots of alliteration and some new vocabulary that makes it a fun read-aloud.  (There doesn't seem to be a cover image anywhere online to share with you.)

Finally I started Horde, the third book in the Razorland trilogy by Ann Aguirre.  This picks up right where the last book ended.  Aguirre continues to impress me with her ability to pack so much action into a short period of pages without sacrificing character development.  She's very pithy.  I'm reading an ARC from Feiwel and Friends.

I also read some upcoming picture books:

Go Ahead and Dream by Karen Kingsbury and Alex Smith, illustrated by Greg Banning
A nice message about believing in yourself, but it gets a bit sad (a character dies).
I read an F&G from Harper.


Thanksgiving Day Thanks by Laura Malone Elliott, illustrated by Lynn Munsinger
This one's a bit all over the place and has trouble landing on its message.
I read an F&G from Katherine Tegen Books.


The Twelve Days of Christmas by Susan Jeffers
Not too much to say here.  There's a nice framing device that recontextualizes the material to make more sense for kids.
I read an F&G from Harper.


Santa Claus and the Three Bears by Maria Modugno, illustrated by Jane Dyer and Brooke Dyer
What it says on the tin.  A fun addition to any fractured fairy tales collection.
I read an F&G from Harper.


The Snow Queen a retelling of the fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen, illustrated by Bagram Ibatoulline
A very beautiful version of one of Andersen's more obscure tales.
I read an F&G from Harper.


Mia's Nutcracker Ballet by Robin Farley, illustrated by Olga and Aleksey Ivanov
The story of the classic ballet, told in kid-friendly terms, starring Mia.
I read an F&G from Harper.


Zoomer's Out-of-This-World Christmas by Ned Young
Who doesn't love a Christmas story starring beagles and aliens?
I read an F&G from Harper.


Christmas Mouse by Anne Mortimer
Very cute, for younger kids.  Nice small trim size, too.
I read an F&G from Katherine Tegen Books.


JFK by Jonah Winter, illustrated by AG Ford
A simple picture book biography covering Kennedy's life and ambitions.
I read an F&G from Katherine Tegen Books.


Foxy in Love by Emma Dodd
Super cute Valentine's Day story, perfect for the very young.
I read an F&G from Harper.


The Silver Moon: Lullabies and Cradle Songs by Jack Prelutsky, illustrated by Jui Ishida
I never would have guessed this was Prelutsky.  It's much quieter and gentler than his norm.  Sheet music is included.
I read an F&G from Greenwillow Books.

Recently I read two novels that, after some thought, work as examples of effective and ineffective sequels.  I confess up front I’m stretching things to make a point here and I in no way recommend a similar reading strategy.  I’m indulging myself in this in order to explain something.

I haven’t read Philip Roth since Portnoy’s Complaint came out in paperback.  Yes, I read it that long ago and, yes, I was probably far too young for it.  My impression of it at the time is hard to recapture, but it left me kind of stunned.  For one, I hadn’t encountered that kind of writing before (not even in some of the porn magazines I’d snuck into the house) and to see it in something on any best seller list was a shock to my 13-year-old psyche.  For another, the self-conscious analysis of an adolescent “matter in transition” surprised me.  I’m not sure it helped or just made me feel that the malaise in which I found myself then (and for a few years to come) was inevitable, which was depressing.

For whatever reason, I never went back to Roth.  From time to time I’ve thought that might have been a mistake.  He’s a Big Deal and maybe I’ve missed something.

So a month or so back I found a couple of used copies of his later novels, picked them up, and the first one I read was Exit Ghost.  For those who’ve kept up, of course, this is one of the ending books in his ongoing Zuckerman series.  From this novel, I gather Zuckerman is a kind of alter-ego for Roth himself.  A famous and successful writer (they aren’t always the same thing) moving through the travails of his fame and success, observing with his writer’s eye the changing landscapes around him.

In this one, Zuckerman has been living as an isolate in the country for several years, especially after prostate surgery which has left him both incontinent and impotent.  He returns to New York on the promise of a new procedure that may at least address his incontinence.  Roth vividly allows the reader to feel the misery of Zuckerman’s condition.  While in New York, Zuckerman meets a young couple who wish to leave (this is the aftermath year of 9/11) for some place Not New York, and offer to swap their apartment for his cabin for a year.

Zuckerman falls headlong into lust for the wife.

He begins working on a fictionalized treatment of their potential liaison, cleverly counterpointing it with what actually happens, at least in their conversations, which he (fictionally) idealizes.  The fictional treatment makes her more self-possessed and himself cleverer.  While all this is going on, Zuckerman finds himself dealing with resurrected ghosts of his literary (and erotic) past and the fact that he no longer knows how to function in this New York after having been away so long.

The writing is beautiful.  There are sentences here superbly crafted, achingly fraught with meaning.  I can see why Philip Roth is considered so highly.

But there is, in the end, only one ghost present which is seeking exit.  Portnoy.  It seems he is still writing about the problems of wanting to get laid, not getting laid, and wishing ardently to not feel guilty about either condition.  Fifty plus years after my last Philip Roth novel, I find that the work is still, at least in part, about the same things.  At least, in this instance.

Portnoy, however, is rather pathetic as a ghost.  He doesn’t disturb much other than the memory of erections no longer possible.  He moves around in the ruins of what was once a vital life, trying to find a way of accepting things as they are, not quite succeeding, and changing nothing.

Tim Powers, however, gives us much more tangible—and dangerous—ghosts in his Hide Me Among The Graves, which is at least a thematic sequel to his The Stress of Her Regard.  As in the previous novel, Powers gives us vampires, but not of the usual sort.  Powers’ vampires are not half-rotted corpses rising, undead, from graves, former humans with a thirst for their living cousins’ blood and a desire to replicate themselves.  Rather, Powers gives us the Nephilim, the remnants of a race that once dominated the Earth before the rise of the oyxgen-breathing, fast-living creatures of a Cambrian eco-system with no place for silicate-based life.  For Powers, these holdovers are the Lamiae, and they feed on iron and love in a grotesque symbiosis, one byproduct of which is artistic brilliance.  Among their captive suitors are Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, John Keats, Coleridge.

With their attention comes madness and the destruction of all competitors for the obsessive love they seem to crave.  Long life, genius, and ultimately a kind of moral corruption that ends up justifying any destruction in the name of…

Well, continuation, really.  These are ghosts that seek actively to persist.

While they come from outside the psyché, they are profoundly dependent on it.  On the willingness of their human partners, on their devotion, their protection, really, and therefore, for Powers, everything comes down to a matter of will.

In The Stress of Her Regard, the artistic center is represented by Byron and Shelley.  In this new novel, that center is the Rossettis—Dante Gabriel and Christina, specifically, with Swindburne as a sort of fifth wheel who learns about the lamiae and very much wants their attention, pining for the brilliance that results from it.

And as in the previous novel, it is those on the sidelines who are instrumental in ending the possessions of the ghosts.

As in the Roth, sex is very much at the heart of the infection.  There is spiritual V.D. in the relations Powers depicts.  We all bring our ghosts along to bed with us, but in the case of the Nephilim these are ghosts with lingering, almost incurable consequences.  And yet, celibacy is no guarantor of health.  Those with whom one’s cousin sleeps could kill you just because.

The brilliance that is a symptom of their infection strikes one as kin to the apparent genius unlocked by syphilis, as in people like Nietzsche. 

Powers’ ghosts move amid ruins as well, in this case the ancient tumbledowns of a London burned by Boadicea, who is herself become one of the Nephilim.  The new London often seems not much more than an incipient ruin itself as the protagonists, John Crawford and Adelaide McKee—both collateral damage in their own ways of the bigger game being played among these ancient monsters—strive to defeat them so they can save their daughter and try to have something like a normal life in which simple love dominates.

In this, Powers shows us a place of solace, a resolution, a condition wherein the ghosts can quieten finally, and peace has a chance to succeed.  The ghosts are recognizably Outside and putting them back outside offers a chance to go on wholly according to one’s self will.

Roth, on the other hand, shows us someone whose ghosts are completely of his own contrivance who treats them as if they are (or should be) something Outside—that can be run from, hidden from, denied.  The failure to recognize them for what they are—ultimately failures of will—condemns Zuckerman to a sophisticated kind of adolescent denial of reality.  Success—however it is defined, no matter how modest—is impossible.

In this, curiously, there is one other similarity between the subtexts of the two works, and that is that genius can be a trap.  What we might sacrifice for it can cut us off from kinder choices, saner trajectories, blind us to certain obvious realities, and give us a justification to cause harm without acknowledging that its expression, too, is a matter of will.  Powers, of the two, shows us clearly that genius is no excuse for embracing monsters or giving our lives over to ghosts.  I’m not altogether sure Roth would accept that formulation.

I started this book group at the beginning of the year. I called it Reading the World. The group was to read travelogues from all parts of the globe, all times and in as many voices as we could find. We’ve done a pretty good job of this so far, and I thought I’d sit down with the stack of books labeled “So Far” and try to review them a bit. Yes, you can read this as an excuse to spend an hour or so with a bunch of books that I really liked, that’s fine. It’s a thing that I do.
January: For our first meeting, I chose The Best American Travel Writing 2012 edited by William T. Vollmann. It’s one of The Best American Seriesthat are released towards the end of every year. (As an aside: these are a very accessible way to feel connected to the amazing writing in many genres during the year. I recommend them highly and gladly.) I must here admit that I would have been fine if every essay after Monte Reel’s How To Explore Like a Victorian Adventurer had been crap. It’s a survey of books that were written less as route and sightseeing guides, and more as how to see your world guides.
Discussing Colonel Julian R. Jackson’s 1841 book How to Observe we are told: “Jackson spends thirty pages advising travelers how to look at a river (Is the surface of the water flat, or does it actually appear slightly convex? What sort of debris does is carry?). There is no such thing as an insignificant detail. After reading a few dozen pages of this stuff, his book works like a mind-altering drug. You look up from the page and notice that the world around you is popping into new dimensions. (p5)” Delicious.
We agreed that this wonderful essay aside, our favorites were Henry Shukman’s Chernobyl, My Primeval, Teeming, Irradiated Eden and Mark Jenkins’ Conquering an Infinite Cave. I would also like to make special mention of Aaron Dactyl’s Railroad Semantics as something akin to the active radical living we only believe happened way back when.
February: Seagull Press recently published never before collected essays by Annemarie Schwarzenbach under the title All the Roads are Open: the Afghan Journey. The journey was undertaken by Schwarzenbach and Ella Maillart during 1939-1940, in a Ford motor-car. They drove from Switzerland to Afghanistan, where Schwarzenbach stayed for a few months before she drove on into India and then boarded a ship in Bombay that returned her to an already war-ravaged Europe. (Maillart’s book about their journey The Cruel Way was reprinted only a month or so ago as well.)
Outside of the absence of maps (a massive deficiency in contemporary book design – really) I found the book fascinating, terrifying and tragically romantic. At our meeting it was pointed out that Schwarzenbach’s presentation of the lack of troubles they had almost everywhere they went seemed a bit far fetched: “If we made our way through all of Turkistan despite all these tribulations and without the slightest accident, if our memory of the mountain paths and semideserts of ancient Bactria is a tranquil one, filled to the brim with a wealth of life, we owe it to Afghan hospitality. We stopped worrying where we would find something to eat, where we would spend the midday hours and what the next night would bring.(p94)” We agreed that may have had to do with our distance and culture, her diplomatic pass and a writer taking liberties. The threat and presence of the war is never far from their roads, where there are roads.
Her writing is spare in translation, and it takes a few essays to get into the feel of it, but when you get there the effect is close to transcendent.
March: Population: 485 by Michael Perry. I wasn’t sure what to make of this at first: Left Bank Books was part of World Book Night again, and part of the agreement was that at least one of our book groups would read a World Book Night title, and this was the only one that fit even a little bit.
Can we talk about how much I love this book? We almost couldn’t talk about the book, it’s so likeable.
Michael Perry moved back to New Auburn, Wisconsin, the town he’d grown up in and then left for probably good, except not so much. He joined the volunteer fire department as a way to become a neighbor in this town where his job of being a writer did nothing to connect him. As he rebuilds roots with the people of New Auburn, he also traces the land on foot and in memory. “I still do a little running. I have this loop, 3.9 miles, a few hills and slow rises, just enough to burn your legs and lug the engine some. I try to run it four or five times a week. The loop is laid out in a rectangle, with a bit out of one corner where Highway Q curves up and over the four-lane. To run the loop is to trace an off-kilter frame around my hometown. I think of myself taking a lap inside a living zoetrope, moving past images present in collage and linked by constantly shifting associations, overlapping and bleeding through to form a dynamic composition of history, place and event. I run the loop, and I get perspective (p87-88).”

The stories he shares are the stories of love, death, pain, triumph and miracles that connect members of communities to each other, and all the individuals in them to the constant shift and settle of living.

So, it turns out that it's distracting to sit next to a pile of books...I may have begun reading and stopped writing. Look for a part 2...

High school history provides us with the basics of World War I and does so by making it appear that something akin to an earthquake happened.  Archduke Ferdinand, of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, is assassinated in Sarajevo and a month later Germany invaded France, triggering a catastrophic series of treaty-obligated interventions by Russia, England, and so forth.  Simple.

Except, what?  Why would Germany do that because the heir to a throne not theirs is shot by a lone assassin in a city in a country allied with Austria?

The connective tissue was always missing.  Something (mumble mutter) to do with Serbia and Austria blaming them for the murder (by an independent terrorist!) and Russia insisting Austria leave Serbia alone, Germany insisting Russia leave Austria alone, France insisting Germany leave Russia alone, and England insisting everyone leave Belgium alone (Belgium? How did Belgium get into this…?), and suddenly you have the international equivalent of a schoolyard pile-on.

Many books have been written attempting to explain the complicated set of relations between the so-called Great Powers and how they all triggered each others’ worst responses in what amounted to a game of chicken.  But that high school myth persists, that WWI happened almost out of the blue.

Sean McMeekin has produced a worthy examination of the month between the fateful assassination and the opening of hostilities on August 4th, 1914.  In July 1914:  Countdown To War he takes pains to show how all this transpired.  It happened quickly, to be sure, as international interactions go, but it was not either unexpected or inevitable.  The major element, besides considerable attention to a chronology which he lays out with admirable clarity, included is what so often is left out of history courses—personality.

McMeekin’s portraits of the players—Kaiser Wilhelm II, his chancellor, Bethmann, the Austria foreign minister Berchtold, army chief of staff Conrad, Russia’s Sazanov, Tsar Nicholas II, Foreign Minister Sir Edward Grey of Britain, and all the rest—open the curtains on how the fatal mix of personalities led to the catastrophe that reshaped Europe so much that in many ways we are still sorting through the rubble.

Starting with the ongoing hatred among the hawks in Austria toward Serbia.  Begin with that and the long history behind it and we begin to see that nothing was really a surprise other than the fact that it actually happened.  The first blunder was the connivance of the Austrians to obtain German backing for a punitive action against Serbia for sponsoring the assassination of the archduke—an archduke, by the way, who was unpopular in his own family and whose loss as a successor to the throne was something of a relief to the Emperor.  Begin with that and the next series of events—diplomatic wrangling, lying, obfuscation, and, above all, haste—makes sense.  Insane sense, but sense nevertheless.

And because McMeekin is dealing handily with the personalities of all these people, questions of reason, caution, experience, and the deliberative conservatism one might expect from old established states become moot as we watch them all jockeying for position to prove points, gain support, establish—or in the case of Austria, re-establish—reputations.

Reading this, one is put in mind of the rush to war in Iraq in 2003, under conditions wherein insufficient information, curtailment of debate, and a drive to do overrode all other considerations.  Hindsight is frustrating.

McMeekin’s concluding chapter, wherein he discusses responsibility and offers a variety of arguments over inevitabilities, is more than just a summation.  Rather it is a sobering analysis of the fragility of circumstance and the importance of character, which so many of us would like to pretend doesn’t matter.

I have nothing much to say that I didn’t already say.  He wrote some of my all-time favorite books.  I envied the scope and depth of his creations.  If I imagined what kind of work I wanted to write in my ideal world, Banks’ Culture  stories would be one of the examples.

He went much too soon.  He thought he’d have more time.  We thought so, too.

One of the pitfalls of science fiction is that we can read about all these wonderful places and times where things like this can be dealt with and the world is more at our command than it is, but when the book is finished and we close the cover, we still live here.  And here we lose people every day to things we know we should be able to beat.  Because we’ve seen that future, laid out for us by fine writers and great minds.

Some day.  Writers like Iain Banks showed us.  Some day.

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a meme hosted by Book Journey with a children's/YA version at Teach Mentor Texts.

I almost finished The Story of Mankind, the first Newbery Medal winner, by Hendrick Willem van Loon, updated by John Merriman.  I'll admit, I was very reticent to start this.  It's a nonfiction title from 1921 and clocks in at over 650 pages.  I was wrong.  It's amazing.  I was never a good history student.  While I was often interested in specific incidents, nothing about the way it's taught stuck with me.  Van Loon's style puts everything in context in a way that really resonates with me.  I think it's the fact that everything starts not with the "what," but with the "why."  He's telling the story of people, who just happened to have shaped history, not events that affected people as a sort of byproduct.  He's also not afraid to insert his thoughts and feelings into the narrative, which apparently some find off-putting, but I think is charming.  I've completely fallen in love with him to the point that I actually was nearly moved to tears reading about his death (which is not in the book, just my research).  In case it wasn't obvious, if you're at all inclined to pick up this book, I recommend you do it sooner rather than later.

This week, I'll be finishing The Story of Mankind, then moving on to Horde, the third book in Ann Aguirre's Enclave trilogy.

What are you reading?

Join us at 5:00 p.m. on Friday, June 14th, 2013, at Left Bank Books--Central West End when Ben Hilliker and his 1926 Willys Overland touring car will present the picture book account of another vintage Willys, The Tale of Willy Willys (illustrated by Robert Shay, who will not be present) as part of Local Social.

One day Mr. and Mrs. Willys are out for a drive when they encounter a car being hauled in for scrap.  A car whose name also happens to be Willys.  They can't ignore what seems meant to be, so they adopt the car himself and turn him over to a team of mechanics who soon have him running like new!

Copies of The Tale of Willy Willys will be available for purchase and signing, and you'll get to experience the fully-restored 1926 car up-close and personal!  If you can't make it to the event, call Left Bank Books at 314-367-6731, ext. 1, to order a signed, personalized copy.

We called her “our knitter,” but really we had to share her with the rest of the world.   Sharon Coleman, who lead a Knitters Reading Group at our store and who was responsible for various “Guerrilla Knitting” projects in the St. Louis area passed away on May 23.

She had been our one-woman knitters’ group since not long after we opened the downtown store, sometime early in 2009. Off and on we would have several women join her but for a long time, it has just been her.

Undaunted by a serious cancer diagnosis  a few years before we met her, Sharon poured herself into her knitting full throttle. She told us it was the thing that kept her going. And keep going she did. She was three years beyond a “you have  weeks to live” diagnosis, and we enjoyed her company for 4 years more.

She knitted complex and lovely pieces that she donated to us to sell to support the River City Readers Program.  We had  a display at our downtown store for a long time.  She also yarn-bombed the store, wrapping columns in various colors and textures.  We looked forward to Fridays when we could see what surprise she left the night before. Some favorites are the rocks she covered in fabulous lavender and glam frizzy gold, or red curly-cue stitches that have served us a bookshelf stops.

Our last encounter with Sharon was at our Central West End store, where she had moved her group.  Kris was there and chatted with her about her latest project.  She was knitting apple cozies, great little pockets the perfect size for an apple. Kris thought it was the perfect gift for teachers and the two of them talked about her making some in quantity.

Sharon loved Left Bank Books and was passionate about River City Readers. Through her knitting, she found purpose. She found life. She fought illness with courage and grace. We are grateful for her support and friendship. She will be missed.

There will be a memorial service at Bopp Chapel this afternoon.  You can count on us to be there.

Blasphemy alert: Two weeks ago, I’d never read anything by David Sedaris. I’d never heard anything by David Sedaris. “Not even the elf thing, at Christmas, on NPR?” you ask, disbelief in your voice, your eyebrows rising into your hair? Nope. Not even the elf thing, at Christmas, on NPR.

It’s not that I had anything against David Sedaris. On the contrary, customers and coworkers alike raved that he was spectacularly, side-splittingly, tears-in-your-eyes-can’t-breathe-right kind of funny.  But when you work in a bookstore, your To Read list has the tendency to, er, get away from you a little. Get away from you like the distance runners got away from me, a last minute 800 meter relay substitute, during my 8th grade track championship: quickly, and painfully, and dramatically.

So when I found myself scheduled to work David Sedaris’ May 25th event with Left Bank Books for his new book, Let’s Explore Diabetes With Owls, an event which sold out in less than 24 hours, prompting us to shut down a section of Locust Street and pipe his talk out for the masses, I was pretty excited. I hadn’t had the time to read any of his books, but now I had the opportunity to get a taste of what all the fuss was about. “You just have to hear him,” people would say to me, “and you’ll understand.”

Ladies and gentlemen, consider me a convert.

You’re looking at David Sedaris’ newest fan. And it’s not only because he’s hilarious. I mean, he is hilarious. So hilarious that it was actually hard for me to do my job – manning the book table outside the store for the listening party, which numbered around 300 strong – because I was laughing so hard. And it’s not only because his fans are so awesome, as all the ones I met were – from the group who ordered pizza and brought wine and set up their own picnic in the street, to the couple who traveled from Kentucky to hear him, to the two young Mormon men on their mission trip who wanted to personally thank Sedaris for getting them out of a tough spot, to the toddler who clapped at all the right moments and was especially interested in our May events calendar.

No, the real reason I’m now a card-carrying member of the David Sedaris fan club is because of how absolutely wonderful David Sedaris was to all his fans, and how generous he was with his time. He engaged with each and every person that stood in line to meet him. He listened to life stories with genuine interest, and tailored his book personalizations for each person with stickers and references to funny anecdotes and details they’d revealed in their conversations. This was much more than a signature and a handshake. This was an experience.

And this experience lasted until 3 am, which is when a still chipper and friendly and invigorated Sedaris ran out of people to sign books for. I clocked out around 1:30, because I had to open the store the next morning, and he signed my audio book, purchased for my upcoming trip to Texas, “To Lauren, Who Quit Early” (all in good fun, of course). Sedaris, it seems, isn’t about to forgive you for leaving his party.

But really, where else today can you get that kind of experience? More and more, people are expecting less and less. In this era of now, now, now, of e-books and smart phones and having the whole world available at your fingertips, who’s still going to sit down and have a face-to-face, one-on-one conversation with you, not only about a book, but about what a book means to you?

David Sedaris will. And for that, I consider myself a fan. I might be a few years behind the curve, but I’ll be devoting six hours on the road to Me Talk Pretty One Day because of my David Sedaris experience.

And next time, I won’t quit early.

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a meme hosted by Book Journey with a children's/YA version at Teach Mentor Texts.

I started off last week by finishing Necromancing the Stone, the second Necromancer book by Lish McBride.  I really like this series for its high level of creativity and humor.  It's smart writing and it should find a lot of fans.  I'd definitely recommend it to anyone who likes Supernatural.  I read an ARC from Henry Holt and Company Books for Young Readers.










Next I read Archetype, the first in an adult literary science fiction duet by M.D. Waters.  This is so far out from publication that there is no cover and it's not available for presale yet, and that is a shame, because I want to share it now!  This is really up-all-night, can't-put-it-down stuff.  Keep an eye out for it if you liked The Handmaid's Tale.  I read an uncorrected proof from Dutton.

Finally, I started my long-delayed project to read all the Newbery winners with the 1922 book, The Story of Mankind by Hendrick Willem van Loon, updated by John Merriman.  It's surprisingly engaging and easy-to-read.  I've even laughed out loud a few times.  There are definitely some outdated comparisons to our own time, but I'm still learning a lot.










This week I'll be finishing The Story of Mankind then moving on to Horde, the third book in the Enclave trilogy by Ann Aguirre.

What are you reading?

Jack Vance wrote idiosyncratically in a field of idiosyncracy.  The very lushness of his prose bespoke an era well past its prime that, when sought, could never be found.  Azure, jeweler’s brass, roseate and softly crystalline.  Contradictions made to coexist and cross-inform.  Footprints trace a path along the the receding shore of a sea once filled with more deliberate monsters than now, the waves gilded by a fading sun that somehow shines proudly if wearily, attesting to empires whose ruins are more wondrous than any new powers might contrive.

He often wrote of the stuff of melancholy, while avoiding melancholy itself.  One could see how tales told about these times and places might turn maudlin for greatness lost, but not yet, not now.  Now we must see what fascinations recomplicate in a present not yet to form a past still waiting.

Was it science fiction? Fantasy?  Did it matter?

Suis generis is sometimes used only when imagination fails to pigeon-hole, where appreciation falls short, and the thing judged is greater than those judging.  Works can signify its proper definition, but more often individual writers are better gauges.  Jack Vance wrote science fiction (The Last Castle, Araminta Station) and fantasy (Lyonesse, Maduouc), and amalgams of both (Mask: Thaery, Dragon Master, The Dying Earth) that even within their clearly defined provinces did not quite fit with expectation.  He was an altogether sensual writer more concerned with moving the reader slantwise into a state of mind to perceive in unique ways places that ran counter to any norm than might be applied.

Deep in thought, Mazirian the Magician walked his garden. Trees fruited with many intoxications overhung his path, and flowers bowed obsequiously as he passed. An inch above the ground, dull as agates, the eyes of mandrakes followed the tread of his black-slippered feet.  Such was Mazirian’s garden—three terraces growing with strange and wonderful vegetations.  Certain plants swam with changing iridescenses; others held up blooms pulsing like sea-anemones, purple, green, lilac, pink, yellow.  Here grew trees like feather parasols, trees with transparent trunks threaded with red and yellow veins, trees with foliage like metal foil, each leaf a different metal…

He established a quasi-mystical ground for what might loosely be called science-fantasy, worlds where physics and genetics obtained but suggestively and where the motivations of alien minds twisted landscapes into ur vistas against which struggles for power played out in atypical fashion.

In The Languages of Pao power resides in grammars, linguistics the key to control, and a strong and unusual acknowledgement that cultures are latent repositories of destiny.  In The Last Castle a comfortable ruling class is suddenly face with the fact that their servants have become more powerful than they and because thought was never given to them as more than labor, any basis for negotiation is completely unknown.

Vance seemed to write most eloquently about the days just before declines begin.  A last Indian Summer played out sometimes across galactic stages.  He was never less than grand.

The impact of an artist can be seen in his or her heirs, those who internalize their vision and produce new works.  Gene Wolfe paid homage to Vance in his Book of the New Sun even as he did something wholly his own and in some ways superior.  Vance was certainly not the first to try to combine science fiction with fantasy, but he was one of the most successful, and writers like Roger Zelazny, Lin Carter, and Michael Moorcock benefited from the results.

There is a bit of Tolkein to be found strewn throughout his prose, but Vance began publishing before Tolkein’s epic appeared, so the apparent influences are coincidental only.  They shared, if anything, a sense of the vastness of time and the importance of even forgotten history.  Vance’s stories are weighted with the awareness of pasts.

Vance retired from writing several years ago.  Eyesight failing, health precarious, he withdrew.  Now he has gone.  Other writers of his generation—Heinlein, Asimov, de Camp, Silverberg, Williams—seem to have garnered more attention.  At least more vocal advocates.  But each of them held Vance in high regard and the enormous body of work Vance has left us seems to be tenaciously inspiring new works and reassessments and gaining new readers.

“There is your home; there is Saponce.  Do you wish to return?”  

She shook her head.  ”Together we have looked through the eyes of knowledge.  We have seen old Thorsingol, and the Sherit Empire before it, and Golwan Andra before that and the Forty Kades even before.  We have seen the warlike green-men, and the knowledgeable Pharials and the Clambs who departed Earth for the stars, as did the Merioneth before them and the Gray Sorcerers still earlier.  We have seen oceans rise and fall, the mountains crust up, peak and melt in the beat of rain; we have looked on the sun when it glowed hot and full and yellow…No, Guyal, there is no place for me at Saponce…”

Guyal, leaning back on the weathered pillar, looked up to the stars. “Knowledge is ours, Shierl—all of knowing to our call.  And what shall we do?”

Together they looked up to the white stars.

“What shall we do…”

 

Ok so New York wasn’t just like I pictured it. Arriving around lunchtime at LaGuardia, the taxi line was short and I should have taken that as an omen. The taxi driver clocked us as tourists instantly, something that has never happened to me at LaGuardia. But apparently, when I gave the address of the Airbnb apartment that Left Bank Books Events Coordinator Hannah Nutt and I would be staying in, an address smack dab in the middle of the theater district, that marked us as tourists and  he decided to take us on the longest, most congested route to our abode, adding at least $10 to the bill.

Then there was the not so small matter of our abode. Nice location on West 49th Street but the dude who let us in and gave us the 411 was as alarming as the apartment: him–rasta hat white guy, big black I’m-totally-chill-hip glasses, brown plaid blazer paired with cargo shorts and Converse All-stars, drinking the last of a 12-pack of something like Corona or Stella Artois.  The apartment: a grody blend of early teenage boy, complete with hockey helmit beer bong, numerous anachronistic surf boards, guitars, crumpled receipts, sports posters, and just plain clutter.  Dust. Pillows I wouldn’t put on a dog bed. Yikes.  The good news: not only is there wifi, there is an actual printer that works!

Making the best of it, Hannah took off to see a play: Unbroken Circle. I sat around mapping out the many receptions I intend to attend in the next two days on Google Maps with the help of the outstanding NYC mta website.  And then I got hungry and with a little research, found a Lidia  Bastianich restaurant just around the corner. I would have to wait until 8:30 to eat but at least they took a reservation for one. Left Bank Books hosted Lidia about a year or two ago at the Sheldon, along with Sauce Magazine. Alyson Mace sat on stage and talked to her. She was promoting her new cookbook Lidia’s Italy in America.  I liked her. Down to earth with high food standards.

This past January, in the middle of an epic snow storm that assaulted Missouri,my partner Jarek Steele, and Left Bankers extraordinaire Jonesy and Lauren took the train to Kansas City for an indie bookseller confab appropriately called Winter Institute. One of the perqs of this event was the opportunity to have dinner or a cocktail with an author or two. I was thrilled to be invited to a Graywolf Press dinner at Lidia Bastianich’s KC restaurant, Lidia’s Italy, where I was introduced to her outstanding tableside service and delicious fresh pastas.  I was also fortunate to be seated next to author Ru Freeman, whose extraordinary novel, On Sal Mal Lane, was just published this month.  But I had read an advanced copy in anticipation of the dinner and I must say that I loved it. A lot. Like Cutting for Stone a lot. Mixed with not a little To Kill a Mockingbird.   Really, you have to read it. It is wonderful. ’nuff said.

Thus I was positively disposed to eating at Lidia’s NYC. Having just spent the last 3 hours mapping out my every move from Book Expo America  at the Jacob Javits Convention Center to a cocktail reception with Malcom Gladwell, a cocktail reception with the president and ceo of HarperCollins, and a dinner in the home of Granta magazine editor John Freeman co-sponsored by Grove Atlantic, I was ready to carbo load on great Italian food.

Gladwell’s new book comes out this September and promises to be his typically brilliant take, this time on why David is more powerful than Goliath. He shared some of his ideas at Winter Institute and I look forward to the continued build up over cocktails on the rooftop of Hotel Gansevoort tomorrow.  I am very curious what the reception with the President and CEO of HarperCollns Publishers Worldwide, an entity owned by Rupert Murdoch will be like. I am thinking it will be the sort of event where men sport  navy blue suits as a defensive measure and mostly I will be ignored. In short, a sweaty armpit affair. But I have many many many favorite Harper collins authors, not the least of which is Barbara Kingsolver, so away I shall go!

Oh, about the Italian dinner: great service, even if I was installed in a far back corner where eventually the same sex couples were also installed. Food, uneven. Great bread. Great caesar salad. Gnochhi out of this world. Spaghetti with tomato and basil, too chef boyardee. And the lesbian couple seated next to me were disappointed in the mushy meatballs. But I did enjoy that I could have my pick of more than 3 dozen Italian wines for a flat $25 a bottle and take the unfinished bottle home.

Off to bed, hopefully without bedbugs. We will be doing with air conditioning tonight. #sweatysleeplessnight.

Spike, Lord and Master

The past five years of Left Bank Books’ career in St. Louis has arguably been the best we’ve had.  The supposed death of bookstores and recession be damned, we’ve done some pretty cool stuff, even if the only one who got rich and famous was Spike, our beloved bookstore cat.

After our business partner, Barry,  retired from the bookstore in 2009, Kris and I worried about whether we would be up to the task of keeping this stubborn St. Louis institution alive.  His shoes were giant, and almost impossible to fill.  Add to that  the birth of the second location of LBB downtown and the pressure was on.

One of the many fortunes we count at ye olde bookstore, is the  smart, ambitious, talented, hardworking, dedicated and patient (with both the owners and the customers) staff of booksellers we are lucky enough to have.

I’d like to take a quick moment on this blog to thank one in particular who has been with us these past five years and has grown our events series into a force to be reckoned with.

Danielle Borsch interviewed for her job at the beginning of 2008.  One of the reasons she got the interview was because her resume had honest to god footnotes and hinted at the magnetic, dynamic person she is.  We were worried because she had two other jobs – one hosting bar trivia and the other producing and acting in The Immediacy Theater troupe she formed with

Danielle Borsch, Outgoing Events Coordinator

her friends.  I wish I could go back to the meeting with Kris and Barry after that interview and tell her how wrong we were to have worried about her ability to manage her time, how she would meet and exceed our expectations.  Every. Single. Time.

The three of us grew to love her and depend on her spot-on intuition about hosting events.  During her tenure, we hosted the likes of Jimmy Carter, Tony LaRussa, Terry McMillan, Jonathen Franzen and David Sedaris (more than once) and hundreds more.

It was fitting then, that her last event with us was this past Saturday, when David Sedaris stopped at our Downtown store to read from and sign his newest book, Let’s Explore Diabetes With Owls.  We’ve hosted David on every one of his book tours, and knew that this event would be big.  It would need experience.  It would need stamina.  It would need talent.  It would need Danielle.

Kris and I sat on our couch scowling out the window around 3pm when we heard thunder.

We were all set up to do our outdoor listening party on the streets of downtown St. Louis complete with tents, lawn chairs, beer, food – and books – lots and lots of paper objects that don’t mix kindly with Midwestern spring weather.  I say we scowled because of the thunder, but I have to admit that my scowl was also the result of the worst ear infection I’ve ever had.  So bad, in fact, that I missed one of my favorite

The downtown listening party primed and ready to hear David Sedaris.

authors AND the last event of one of my best friends.  My sister and her friend volunteered to work the event, and around midnight, she came back to my house reporting that when David arrived, the clouds went away and the sun came out.

It was 3 am before poor Kris got home, still buzzing from the event and far past her ability to be coherent about it, but I did hear stories from that night from those who were there.  Mostly the surprises were limited to the good to the weirdly good – the giant sticker books David brought with him, from which he selected one for each customer and incorporated the sticker in the autograph of the book; the patient waiting for a lung transplant who made it to the event and talked to her favorite author; the Mormons who left a very kind note for him because they couldn’t stay.

Hannah Nutt, Incoming Events Coordinator

The event went well, and ushered in the era of our next Event Coordinator, Hannah Nutt, who, like I did when Barry left, has big shoes to fill, but I’m not worried.  She has taken the reigns and will steer this event series in her own way, with her own (many, many) strengths.  We’ve also moved one of our best booksellers, Lauren Wiser, into our events and publicity mix.

I say this because I will miss Danielle for so many reasons both professional and personal that it has been hard to untangle the layers.  I’ve been writing this blog post, and even in its writing a piece of sunshine has peaked through the thunderous clouds in my head.  I’m remembering the anxiety we’ve had every time one of our bookstore family members leaves and the uncertainty that comes along with replacing that very unique, seemingly irreplaceable person.

Lauren Wiser, Publicity Manager

I’m also remembering the hope and joy and fun in discovering the humor, strength, passion and fortitude of the new members of our family.  I can’t wait to get to know our newest member better.  I can’t wait to see what she and Lauren come up with.

As I see it, the main strength we have as a store is our ability to look forever forward.  I’m looking forward to seeing what they can do.

I can’t wait to see what we can do together.

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a meme hosted by Book Journey with a children's/YA version at Teach Mentor Texts.

I did it!  I finished City of Bones, the first book in the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare!  I can't say there were a whole lot of surprises (even when I didn't see something coming from a long way away, I still realized it before Clary), but the plot picked up, and I'm interested to see where the character dynamic goes from here.

After that, I needed something I could breeze through, so I picked up Collision Course, the second book in the Titanic series by Gordon Korman.  I'm not a big fan of adding fictionalized stories to the Titanic, since every story you could ever want to tell was already there in real life (well, maybe not the one totally ridiculous one he added), but there's enough fact here to make it worthwhile, and he does a nice job of capturing some of the complex emotions between the collision and realizing that all was lost.

I started Necromancing the Stone, the second in Lish McBride's Necromancer series.  This is great fun, written with a wonderful sense of humor, and the rare book that I think can be sold to boys and girls equally easily, both in content and marketing.  I'm reading an ARC from Henry Holt and Company Books for Young Readers.











I also started Archetype by M.D. Waters, the first in a two-book adult series.  This one doesn't come out until February, so there's no cover yet.  It's very compelling so far.  A literary science-fiction story in the vein of The Handmaid's Tale.  I'm reading an uncorrected proof from Dutton.

I also read some picture books coming from Macmillan this fall.

The Greatest Dinosaur Ever by Brenda Z. Guiberson, illustrated by Gennady Spirin
A nice nonfiction title for the very young.  Not so much detail that they'll lose interest.
I read an F&G from Henry Holt and Company Books for Young Readers.


Fall Ball by Peter McCarty
Great for young sports fans.  Love the illustrations.
I read an F&G from Henry Holt and Company Books for Young Readers.


Cool Creations in 35 Pieces by Sean Kenney
It's nice to see a LEGO book that doesn't require tons of specialty kits.
I read an F&G from Christy Ottaviano Books.


Dino-Baby by Mark Sperring, illustrated by Sam Lloyd
A cute way to teach little ones the dos and don'ts of having a little brother or sister.
I read an F&G from Bloomsbury Children's Books.


Moo! by David LaRochelle, illustrated by Mike Wohnoutka
This very silly story told in (almost) one word could be a lot of fun as a read-aloud.
I read an F&G from Walker Books for Young Readers.


The Tiger Cubs and the Chimp: The True Story of How Anjana the Chimp Helped Raise Two Baby Tigers by Bhagavan "Doc" Antle with Thea Feldman, photographs by Barry Bland
A worthy addition to the interspecies friendship genre.
I read an F&G from Henry Holt and Company Books for Young Readers.


I See Kitty by Yasmine Surovec
Almost too cute, kids will have fun finding all the kitties.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


The Table Sets Itself by Ben Clanton
A fun and subtly humorous take on this aspect of etiquette.
I read an F&G from Walker Books for Young Readers.


Penguin in Love by Salina Yoon
I lovely and sweet addition to the Penguin books.
I read an F&G from Walker Books for Young Readers.


On My Way to Bed by Sarah Maizes, illustrated by Michael Paraskevas
I love these tributes to imagination, and this one will look very familiar to anyone who's had to enforce bedtime.
I read an F&G from Walker Books for Young Readers.


How Big Were Dinosaurs? by Lita Judge
Another nice nonfiction piece, this one a little more advanced.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


Musk Ox Counts by Erin Cabatingan, illustrated by Matthew Myers
These books are so much fun.  Love the breaking of the fourth wall.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


The Crocodile and the Scorpion by Rebecca Emberley and Ed Emberley
This is a very pretty adaptation of the classic tale, but it's a bit iffy to have a picture book where everyone dies at the end.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


Hello, My Name Is Ruby by Philip C. Stead
A sweet book about making friends that is perfect for those on the shy side.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


Herman and Rosie by Gus Gordon
A beautiful book with fantastic illustrations.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


A Single Pebble: A Story of the Silk Road by Bonnie Christensen
A great jumping-off point for learning about Eastern history and cultures.
I read an F&G from Roaring Brook Press.


Beatrice Spells Some Lulus and Learns to Write a Letter by Cari Best, illustrated by Giselle Potter
A fun book with lots of things to spell.
I read an F&G from Farrar Straus Giroux.




This week I'll be working on finishing Necromancing the Stone and Archetype.  I also hope to pick up The Grannie Annie Family Story Celebration, Volume 8 for their author event.

What are you reading?

Join us at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, June 1, 2013, at Left Bank Books--Downtown when the authors and illustrators of The Grannie Annie Family Story Celebration, Volume 8 will discuss and sign their work.

The Grannie Annie works with kids grades 4 through 8 (ages 9 to 14) who submit stories of their family history based on an interview with an older family member.  The pieces selected for publication are paired with student illustrators.  These stories run the gamut of the human experience and span generations back in time, linking kids with the past in a unique and creatively engaging way.  You can find more information on the organization at their website.

Copies of all the Grannie Annie collections (except Volume 1, which is out of print) will be available for purchase.  If you can't make it to the event, call Left Bank Books at 314-367-6731, ext. 2, to order signed, personalized copies.

Join us at 7:00 p.m. on Tuesday, May 28, 2013, St. Louis County Library--Headquarters when author and illustrator John Rocco will read and discuss his newest book, Super Hair-O and the Barber of Doom.

Rocco and his friends are superheroes.  Everyone knows superheroes have a source for their strength, and these boys have their hair.  The longer it gets, the stronger they are.  But what happens when faced with their most dangerous nemesis, The Barber?  Will they make it out with their powers intact?

Copies of John's books--which also include Blackout and Moonpowder--will be available for purchase and signing.  If you can't make it to the event, call Left Bank Books at 314-367-6731, ext. 1, to order signed, personalized copies.

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a meme hosted by Book Journey with a children's/YA version at Teach Mentor Texts.

This was another terrible reading week.  I've learned I don't read well when working two jobs almost every day.  Surprise.  I did get a bit further in City of Bones, the first book in the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare, for the May meeting of Teen Reads.  I'm a bit frustrated with the main character's inability to see the most obvious things and don't understand the love triangle at all, since one of the sides doesn't really have any redeeming qualities.

I managed to read the entirety of A Black Hole Is NOT a Hole by Carolyn Cinami DeCristofano, illustrated by Michael Carroll, for her author event.  I actually learned a lot, and quite a few physics concepts I knew vaguely make a lot more sense.  I'd definitely recommend this for older kids interested in science and space.













This week I have to finish City of Bones, then, if we have it by then, I'll be starting The Grannie Annie Family Story Celebration, Volume 8 for their author event.  Otherwise, I'll be selecting from my vast TBR pile.

What are you reading?

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a meme hosted by Book Journey with a children's/YA version at Teach Mentor Texts.

This was not a good reading week for me.  I did finish The Complete Talking Heads by Alan Bennett just in time to start performances of selections from it at St. Louis Actors' Studio this weekend.  This is really just stellar writing and amazing character building.  See them if you can, but if you can't, they're still worth a read.

After that, I read less than a full chapter of City of Bones, the first book in the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare, for the May meeting of Teen Reads, so I don't have much to say about that.

I did get through some picture books though.  On the finished side, I read What Will Hatch? by Jennifer Ward, illustrated by Susie Ghahremani, for Jennifer's Children's Book Week event.  It's a very visually appealing and accessible light-science picture book that can also be played as a guessing game.  Younger kids should love it.













Then there were some yet-to-be-published books from Penguin:

An Otis Christmas by Loren Long
Everyone's favorite tractor is back with a tale in the classic Christmas spirit, although it might be a bit heavy for some (a horse almost dies in childbirth).
I read an F&G from Philomel.


Friends by Eric Carle
This is...odd.  I really like the beginning, and it's nice to see a friendship between a boy and a girl.  I really like the middle, which reframes the traditional illustrations and puts the reader in the setting rather than the character.  But the end is...odd.  And abrupt.
I read an F&G from Philomel.


Llama Llama and the Bully Goat by Anna Dewdney
Llama Llama adds a worthy installment to the ongoing discussion on bullying.
I read an F&G from Viking.


Madeline and the Old House in Paris by John Bemelmans Marciano
A nice new installment to the Madeline series, this one featuring a ghost.
I read an F&G from Viking.


Tea Party Rules by Ame Dyckman, illustrated by K.G. Campbell
A very cute story with a lot of visual humor kids will love.
I read an F&G from Viking.


Secret Pizza Party by Adam Rubin, illustrated by Daniel Salmieri
A worthy successor to Dragons Love Tacos.  Often laugh-out-loud funny.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Flo and Wendell by William Wegman
Wegman combines his iconic Weimaraners with splashy paintings for a silly book about siblings.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Ladybug Girl and the Big Snow by David Soman and Jacky Davis
Another solid entry in the Ladybug Girl series, this one dealing with overcoming frustration.
I read an F&G from Dial.


The Christmas Cat by Maryann Macdonald, illustrated by Amy June Bates
A beautiful religious story of the connection between Jesus and his pet cat, inspired by the work of da Vinci.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Little Santa by Jon Agee
A strange little Santa origin story.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Please Bring Balloons by Lindsay Ward
A magical adventure of a book.  Love the collage illustrations.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Sometimes I Forget You're a Robot by Sam Brown
It's basically an explodingdog picture book.  Which means it's visually striking, unexpectedly poignant and so exciting.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Bits and Pieces by Judy Schachner
SO.  SWEET.
I read an F&G from Dial.


You Know What I Love? by Lorena Siminovich
Cute and sweet with bright retro illustrations.
I read an F&G from Dial.


Cinders: A Chicken Cinderella by Jan Brett
This is, in many ways, a classic Jan Brett book.  Except that it's about chickens acting out Cinderella.
I read an F&G from Putnam.


Little Burro by Jim Arnosky
A fiction story from Arnosky, this evokes the same love of the wild that his nonfiction books do.
I read an F&G from Putnam.


Gifts of the Heart by Patricia Polacco
A somewhat wordy, but nice, Christmas story.
I read an F&G from Putnam.


Strega Nona Does It Again by Tomie dePaola
I'm not quite sure I've ever understood the appeal of these books.  This one just doesn't seem like it has much to do with anything kids care about.
I read an F&G from Nancy Paulsen Books.


Old Mikamba Had a Farm by Rachel Isadora
A very pretty African reimagining of Old MacDonald.  Bonus for a "true facts" section at the back that doesn't get too wordy.
I read an F&G from Nancy Paulsen Books.


Bones and the Apple Pie Mystery by David A. Adler, illustrated by Barbara Johansen Newman
A cute mystery for young readers with some light humor.
I read an F&G from Penguin Young Readers.









This week I'll be finishing City of Bones, then reading A Black Hole Is NOT a Hole by Carolyn Cinami DeCristfano, illustrated by Michael Carroll, for Carolyn's Children's Book Week event.

What are you reading?

Join us at 2:00 on Saturday, May 18, 2013, at St. Louis County Library--Headquarters when Carolyn Cinami DeCristofano will discuss her nonfiction picture book A Black Hole Is NOT a Hole (illustrated by Michael Carroll, who will not be present) as part of Children's Book Week.  The event will start with activities provided by the St. Louis Science Center.

Black holes are very mysterious.  Even the name brings up questions.  Well, this book will answer all those questions and more by telling you everything you need to know about this space phenomenon and more.

Copies of A Black Hole Is NOT a Hole will be available for purchase and signing.  If you can't make it to the event, call Left Bank Books at 314-367-6731, ext. 1, to order signed, personalized copies.