new moon

Title: New Moon

Author: Stephenie Meyer

Pages: 563

Genre: Fantasy, Romance

Grade: B

Synopsis: Bella Swan has recovered from her close call with a vampire and things are going well for her in Forks. She is going with Edward to a birthday party thrown for her by the Cullens that is cut short when she trips and falls, getting cut on a piece of glass. Chaos ensues, Edward leaves and Bella begins to fall in love with her childhood friend Jake from the Indian reservation.

My Review: This was an interesting book for me. I liked most of the beginning and middle of the book more than twilight (I think I do anyway. I can't really remember that well that far back). The book after the middle was really anticlimactic though. I left the book on my shelf for 5 days when I only had 3 chapters left to read. If this had been a true thriller there's no way that I would have been able to go that long without finishing it. For the record, I like Jake. I like him at least as much as Edward and possibly more. Bella and Jake's relationship is so much more natural while her relationship with Edward just seems awkward. A classic love triangle has formed for eclipse which should keep it interesting.

From the Book: "(p. 74) Not tonight. Tonight the sky was utterly black. Perhaps there was no moon tonight--a lunar eclipse, a new moon.
"A new moon. I shivered, though I wasn't cold."

"(p. 200) 'Bears don't want to eat people. We don't taste that good.' He grinned at me in the dark cab. 'Of course, you might be an exception. I bet you'd taste good.'
'Thanks so much,' I said, looking away. He wasn't the first person to tell me that."

The Glass Castle

Title: The Glass Castle

Author: Jeanette Walls

Pages: 288

Genre: Memoir

Grade: A

Synopsis: Jeanette Walls grew up in a very dysfunctional family. The family was always on the move throughout the west and living and sleeping in their car and small shacks when they would find them. Her father was a raging alcoholic and her mother had no backbone or drive. Jeanette and her siblings grew up exposed to things that no children should have to see or endure. They often had to rummage and dig through trash to find food while their mother would eat candy bars under her bedspread and their father would waste what little money they did have on booze and gambling. Children in gunfights, the father pimping his daughter at the bar, being groped by an uncle (and the parents not caring about it), using markers to color her legs so the holes in her jeans wouldn't show so much and many other incredible stories are all a part of this memoir.

My Review: It is amazing that the author writing this memoir has made so much of herself. Faced with so many unique challenges growing up, Jeanette rose above them and has related her stories in a such a way that the book is extremely difficult to put down. Jeanette never makes excuses for herself or her parents but simply tries to tell it how it is. You can't help but be sickened by what she and her siblings have had to endure. From People magazine: "Walls has joined the company of writers such as Mary Karr and Frank McCourt who have been able to transform their sad memories into fine art."

From the Book: "(p.1, first paragraph) I was sitting in a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the window and saw Mom rooting through a Dumpster. It was just after dark. A blustery March wind whipped the steam coming out of the manholes, and people hurried along the sidewalks with their collars turned up. I was stuck in traffic two blocks from the party where I was heading."

"(p. 11) Every couple of days, the nurses changed the bandages. They would put the used bandage off to the side, wadded and covered with smears of blood and yellow stuff and little pieces of burned skin. Then they'd apply another bandage, a big gauzy cloth, to the burns. At night I would run my left hand over the rough scabby surface of the skin that wasn't covered by the bandage . Sometimes I'd peel off scabs. The nurses had told me not to, but I couldn't resist pulling on them real slow to see how big a scab I could get loose. Once I had a couple of them free, I'd pretend the were talking to each other in cheeping voices."

"(p. 34) I wondered if the fire had been out to get me. I wondered if all fire was related, like Dad said all humans were related, if the fire that had burned me that day while I cooked hot dogs was somehow connected to the fire I had flushed down the toilet and the fire burning at the hotel. I didn't have the answers to those questions, but what I did know was that I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes."

These is my Words

Title: These is my Words

Author: Nancy E. Turner

Pages: 384

Genre: Historical Fiction, Western

Grade: A

Synopsis: This book is based upon the diaries of the author's great-grandmother, Sarah Agnes Prine. The story starts with her family in a wagon train crossing from Texas to Arizona. They end up settling near Tucson, Arizona and begin tending to gardens, orchards, horses and cattle. Her accuracy with a rifle and fearless demeanor allow her to help save her family from Indian attacks and outlaws. This documents the trials and tribulations suffered by Sarah and her family.

Recommended By: Alison, Jenn

My Review: This is one of those rare books that you could simply read forever. The book is ordered by diary entries and when there is a long break between entries you wonder what had been happening during the break. It's disappointing when the book finally ends because it feels like you could simply keep going. The strength that Sarah displayed and her unwavering efforts to become a better person were inspiring.

From the Book: "(p. 162 - May 4, 1885) It is an awful thing to look on such sad circumstance and not be able to shed a tear. It is not because I do not feel for these folks, but maybe I feel too much. Part of me is glad, in a low down, mean way, that it is not Albert's or Mama's graves we are digging. Glad that it is some soldiers I don't know and neighbors and friends but not family. Lord, I must be the cussedest woman there is to think that. Finally, I felt so guilty for thinking those things that I cried. Then I began to feel the heartaches of our friends and neighbors and I cried for them, too, as we said prayers over each and every grave."

"(p. 164 - May 15, 1885) I must think about something else for a while. But then I remember his warn arms and his big strong legs touching mine and how hard and wide his chest was and how hot his kiss was, and I go outside and feed the chickens. They are getting mighty fat."