Book Review: The Rocky Orchard

The Rocky Orchard. Barbara Monier. Northfield, IL: Amika Press, May 12, 2020, Trade Paperback and E-book, 172 pages. 

Reviewed by Caryl Barnes.

On the back cover of The Rocky Orchard, the new book by Barbara Monier, a reviewer says you’ll want to reread it the minute you finish. I've read that promise on the back covers of other books and was skeptical. I had never once wanted to reread a book the second I finished it. This one book, though, I did reread right away, and I have since reread it. 

Mazie’s account of her life is so broad and so deep that I wanted to absorb it. The Rocky Orchard is at first glance short and simple with lovely but straightforward language. It is not a difficult read despite its rambles through various dimensions of time and space. Why then is it so compelling that I had to reread it? I wanted to see what Mazie saw, feel what she felt, think what she thought, and experience what she experienced, and to a startling extent, Monier’s book enabled me to do that. The book is so present, so alive. A writer in a review of another book said something that applies to The Rocky Orchard: “We get the immediacy of voice, characters pressing themselves on us without any apparent authorial filter in a continuous oral present, even when they are relating their own histories.” 

A few years ago, I went on a long nature walk with a group from my church. Our purpose was to learn to see more clearly, to connect with nature. When one of us noticed something along the trail, they stopped, and the group stopped with them. We all looked, and as best we could, we entered into the living reality of what we saw. It was an uncanny experience, becoming one with objects of nature as well as with oneself and the other members of the group. Together and individually, we joined what we saw in a powerful experience of embodied mysticism. The Rocky Orchard offers a similar experience as Mazie revisits details of her life, paring it to its essential, burning inner core. We watch Mazie become who she is and know herself for the first time. In so doing, I learned more about who I am.

There are hundreds of stops along Mazie’s path. Sometimes she relives the past: standing unprotected at age four at the edge of the Grand Canyon, one shoe sticking over the rim. Sometimes she notices a detail in the present: old playing cards being shuffled, “fall in beautiful, slow motion,” as if they understand what they’re supposed to do. Sometimes she gasps at a new insight: how miraculously different each hour is from every other. Sometimes she imagines in vivid detail something that may not have happened: marrying Eddie at the “crossroads of the farm.”  

The Rocky Orchard is a lesson in meditation. Beginning meditators are taught to follow their breath, to let the thoughts and visions come and then, as quickly as they arrive, to let them go and return to the breath. I know, from experience, how numerous and varied my thoughts are. In daily life, my thoughts tumble atop each other, are crowded and often unnoticed, as a new thought shoves the old one out of the way. Observing my thoughts as they drift by and then returning to breathing gives my observations, experiences, and ideas room develop, to exist in the present, no matter how momentary the present is. Meditation is a profound way to honor oneself.

This review was challenging to write because I tried to describe what felt like a mystical experience with this book, grounded in the most specific of details yet ethereal as a cloud. There are other ways I could have talked about this book—about the plot, about the way human beings have many parts of ourselves (including inner guides like Lula), and about the metaphysics of the book. I chose to write about what stunned me, what erased the difference between reading a book and being drawn within a book. 

Book Review: Heirs Apparent

Heirs Apparent. Thomas J. Thorson. Austin Macauley Publishers, May 29, 2020, Hardcover, Trade Paperback, and E-book, 200 pages.

Reviewed by David Steven Rappoport. 

Thomas J. Thorson makes his mystery writing debut with a stylish novel, Heirs Apparent, in the noir tradition of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. Though Thorson evokes the amused nihilism of his literary ancestors, he’s created a compelling irreverent read with contemporary characters and plot. 

Malcolm Winters, a man with an undisclosed criminal past, decides to reinvent himself.  He selects a new name at random from authors represented in a used book store, then goes to Nashville to purchase forged documents to establish his new identity. There, he meets a femme fatale, Frye, who lives in Chicago. Following her there on a whim, he starts a new life. He stumbles into a job as a creative writing professor based on the credentials that come with his stolen name and makes friends with a fellow professor who is a former intelligence operative. Frye is murdered, and the intrigue compounds.

Thorson is an accomplished writer with a gift for crafting a compelling narrative, amusing characters, and crisp dialogue. Heirs Apparent is a diverting read that never lags.  Thorson’s capacity for plotting is perhaps less evolved. Although the plot maneuvers are always clever and entertaining, they are sometimes implausible. Also, the ending is confusing. But no matter. Thorson’s considerable genre literary gifts more than compensate.

In his bio on the back cover, Thorson offers Heirs Apparent as a “modest contribution to the mystery genre.”  He is overly self-effacing. The novel is great fun and will satisfy any fan of snarky contemporary noir.

Book Review: From Miniskirt to Hijab

From Miniskirt to Hijab: A Girl in Revolutionary Iran. Jacqueline Saper. Potomac Books of the University of Nebraska Press, October 1, 2019, Hardcover and E-book, 206 pages.

Reviewed by Susan Gaspar.

I was immediately intrigued by the synopsis of From Miniskirt to Hijab: A Girl in Revolutionary Iran, but I had no idea how deeply the story would pull me in. This book should be assigned reading for American high school students, and I highly recommended the book for anyone who grew up mostly insulated from the often confusing politics and strife of international affairs. 

My exposure to this story could not have been timelier. The U.S. was in the middle of a viral pandemic that shut down much of the country and kept people home, punctuated by a period of escalated civil unrest that had been building for many years. As I read, I found myself occasionally looking up from the pages in wonderment to reflect on the way historical events leave trail markers and then circle back, repeating and highlighting that which has not been resolved. 

Equal parts history lesson and human drama, From Miniskirt to Hijab: A Girl in Revolutionary Iran is the memoir of author Jacqueline Saper during a period of a sudden change in her home country as a teenager and young adult. Born in Tehran, Jacqueline is the child of an Iranian father and a British mother, and is also Jewish. Her family and domestic life are enough to build a gripping tale, but this book is much more. 

I learned details of events in the Middle East, both ancient and modern-day, of which I was completely ignorant. A different perspective and an alternate world view usually provide more of an education than textbooks, and Ms. Saper's meticulous memories pull you into what otherwise might have ended up a first-hand account of Middle Eastern political developments. I almost felt that I had spent time in Iran myself, especially in the initial chapters, which describe the carefree, happy days of her childhood and early teen years.

I was enraptured with the sumptuous beauty and charming pleasures of everyday life in pre-revolutionary Iran. Suddenly tensions flared, the political and cultural climate shifted, and it became clear that those pleasant times were over. The tenor of the story is altered sharply when Iran’s regime falls under the Ayatollah, and tumultuous societal pressures surge under the weight of fundamentalist Islam. My adrenaline level rose with every chapter, and the increasing loss of personal freedoms, the growing daily hardships, and the escalating mortal danger, felt personal. 

While reading the section about the American Embassy hostages, I recalled Christmas Day 1979 at my grandparents’ home with my family. As we sat in the living room chatting and opening gifts, there was a natural pause in the action, and my mother suddenly blurted out, “I can't stop thinking of those poor hostages while we sit here . . .” Then, her voice broke and trailed off. Nobody said anything for a bit, and I knew we all felt sad and powerless but also incredibly grateful to be so far away from something so terrifying. This portion of the book opened my eyes to how little I knew or understood of those global affairs, and how comfortably cocooned my world was that day at age 15 in small-town America. 

The story spans 26 years, from 1961, when the author was born, until 1987, when she fled Iran for America. For many of those early years, she traveled freely between Iran and her mother’s native England, and the contrast between these two realms was a cultural study in and of itself. But after the revolution, travel was nearly impossible, and under strict Islamic laws, life got more complicated and unpleasant. As a woman reading about the terrifying repercussions of not being appropriately dressed and of being observed and controlled by religious clerics and the morality police, I seriously doubted I could have survived some of the more unnerving moments.

The author married at a young age and gave birth to two children, and the stakes grew even higher. I spent many chapters actively worried about the people I was reading about because while I knew some of the outcomes of Iran's history, I was well aware that these human beings were real and not characters in a novel. By the time it became clear that escape from Iran was the only choice for the family, you couldn’t have pried the book from my hands.

I must also mention the hidden language lessons that are sprinkled generously throughout. Always fascinated by other languages and cultures, it was a treat to have meanings of words spelled out and used in a clear context. I found myself sounding out the words to see how they felt on my tongue. And I was thrilled to discover a glossary in the back of the book containing several pages of Persian, Hebrew, and Arabic terms. It felt like a bonus gift.

From Miniskirt to Hijab: A Girl in Revolutionary Iran is ideal reading for students, and there is a convenient and comprehensive Reading Group Discussion Guide at the back of the book, which provides talking points and insights for additional research and study. Additionally, the author has a wealth of related information on her website: JacquelineSaper.com. This book will most certainly make you eager to know more—a sure sign of both distinguished writing and powerful subject matter.

Book Review: Writing Through the Muck

Writing Through the Muck: Finding Self and Story for Personal Growth, Healing, and Transcendence. G. Elizabeth Kretchmer. Dancing Seed Publisher, March 5, 2020, Trade Paperback and E-book, 364 pages.

Reviewed by Casie Gambrel.

G. Elizabeth Kretchmer’s Writing Through the Muck is a holistic writing guide intended for anyone looking to achieve his or her full potential in life. 

The book was inspired by writing workshops for cancer patients, domestic violence survivors, and others simply seeking inner truth, personal peace, and healing. It opens with the concept that, while pain and suffering are universal, finding a path through the pain is necessary to achieve ultimate wellbeing and enlightenment. The author’s approach centers around “wellness writing,” which she describes as self-expression on the journey toward holistic health and a happier life. 

The book is broken down into seven sections, with each one providing specific writing prompts that offer concrete examples to guide the reader through the exercises. The first part of the text covers the frequently asked questions about wellness writing, which include the author's definition and a thorough breakdown of the many different approaches. The remaining sections (Finding Self; Exploring Self and Story Through Various Portals; Exploring Self and Story Through Others; Digging Through the Deep Muck; Putting it All Together; and Sharing Your Stories) work well when done sequentially, as the book is intended to be used. The author also expresses deep empathy for the layered emotions that users of the book will undoubtedly uncover working through the writing exercises.

The book’s sound advice and helpful tips are based on more than a dozen years of research and teaching writing workshops. The points are reinforced with quotes by such well-known figures as Anne Lamott, Rumi, Mary Oliver, Susan Fowler, and Joan Didion. Also, the author includes personal stories from workshop participants, friends, and family members who have grappled with their own experiences surrounding trauma, loss, self-sabotage, and the feeling of brokenness. Each story and quotes throughout the book highlight the value that wellness writing can provide in working through pain to achieve a deeper understanding of personal growth and self-acceptance. 

Key points are driven by the author's willingness to share her narrative, weaving it beautifully between the pages with stories, examples, and prompts. She writes of her own experiences of wading in the muck from multiple moves, broken relationships, divorce, alcoholism, and cancer, shining the light on her journey of climbing out and moving on. The book's friendly, compassionate, and conversational tone provides encouragement and support to assist those who use it.

Readers will find the exercises and techniques useful in taking the first steps to explore what it means to break down self-sabotage barriers and realize how repeated negative behavior can stall personal growth. Special note: The book is not intended to replace a traditional therapist, and the exercises may shed light on the need for professional therapy.

Writing Through the Muck is an insightful book filled with life experiences and helpful writing prompts that will expand the reader’s thinking. It is most useful for new and experienced writers who are ready to get off autopilot to understand themselves and life better. It offers creative fuel for the reader’s soul.

The author has a real gift in helping others heal through writing.

Book Review: The Mystery at Mount Forest Island

The Mystery at Mount Forest Island. Pat Camalliere. Amika Press, March 27, 2020, Trade Paperback and E-book, 352 pages.

Reviewed by Sue Merrell.

I love returning to an author I’ve read before, catching up with characters I’ve met, and embarking on a new adventure. For these reasons, I really enjoyed Pat Camalliere’s latest novel, The Mystery at Mount Forest Island.

Camalliere’s work spans several genres: historical fiction, paranormal suspense, and a healthy dose of women's lit. This is the third book in the Cora Tozzi Mystery Series, set in the author’s stomping grounds around Lemont, Illinois. Each book weaves in a rich history of the area.

The prologue grabs the reader’s attention with a casual scene between infamous gangster Al Capone and his brother Ralph, who is rumored to have run a bottling operation in Lemont during Prohibition. 

The story begins at the Palos Woods Golf Club from the Roaring Twenties to the 1950s when the caretaker’s cottage for the abandoned golf club has become a family farmhouse. In modern times, the farmhouse and clubhouse are long gone, except for a few paranormal glimpses.

Valerie Pawlik, who was blinded in an automobile accident in the first Cora Tozzi book, The Mystery at Sag Bridge, returns to seek Cora’s help in tracking down her mother, Jemma, who abandoned the family when Valerie was a child. Jemma’s story of growing up in that farmhouse on the former golf course becomes a first-person book-within-a-book featuring creepy characters, mysterious activity at night, and a vague connection to the Chicago mob. 

The unresolved tension between Valerie and Cora adds to the characters' believability and their ability to grow and change. Much less believable is Cora’s realization that she knew Valerie’s mother back when Cora was a high school student in Oak Lawn and Valerie was just a toddler. If you can get past the feeling of too much coincidence, memories of that friendship help flesh out some of Jemma’s adult life after leaving the farmhouse in Palos Woods. 

All the loose ends of gangsters, horse racing, and the shadow life at the farmhouse, are tied together by Cora’s friend Billy Nokoy, who is struggling to understand his paranormal skills. Frannie, Cora’s pal and research assistant, and Cisco, her reluctantly supportive husband, help uncover additional pieces of the mystery. I like the way these characters are full of flaws and self-doubt, but manage to work things out. 

Most of the crime and mystery in the book, including the murder of Jemma’s brother, is told at arm’s length. There’s little of that page-turner, imminent danger feeling. The big questions are related to interpersonal relationships, such as why Jemma left her kids.

But the book delivers an action-packed finale with a mysterious prowler, a ghost, and a hostage situation. It’s all crowned with a forest fire and one of the characters becoming the surprising rescuer.

The story’s connections to Al Capone and the Chicago mob will attract many non-Chicago readers. But if you are familiar with Lemont, Oak Lawn, and Chicago Heights, this book feels like old home week, even if you still have trouble pronouncing Potawatomi.