Dang, times were hard back then. Employees at the mercy of cruel masters, no recourse, no real medical care, and on and on. No wonder so many men opted out in favor of the swashbuckling route. Relative egalitarianism (though not completely, and you'll have to read it to find out more) and a heck of a bigger paycheck meant at least a moderately better situation. This book manages to chronicle all that Bartholomew Roberts did during his tenure as the most feared pirate of the Caribbean without sounding like an inventory list. You'll learn what made "Black Bart" tick (or possibly what did) and about the caginess that made him so successful. Fix yourself some grog and drink this book up!

This is not my typical jam; I normally steer clear of anything mystical, occultish, or other-worldly. But, hey, the price was SO right ($1.00), and the book was a chunky little tome just calling to me. Plus, it had a weird tree-looking guy tippy-toeing on the cover. How could I resist? Onward and upward the book marched, through my stacks, getting closer and closer to the time when I would, with my strict method of book selection, be required to actually read it. Its time finally came, and to be honest, I wasn't looking forward to it. (See first sentence.) The first two chapters sputtered along, with me characteristically bemoaning my book selection (a witch? people screaming in the night?), but then the sputtering roared to life. Off that story went, and it took me with it. Our heroine, Miranda, is sharp, bereft, world-weary, and holds those cards close to her chest. And well she should, because she has some secrets to keep. That's all I'll say about that, because I don't like spoilers. Add a bayou, some creepy people, stir it all up, and you have yourself a spine-tingler. As you wind your way through this book, Andy makes every scene come to life, and does so economically. Here's an example: "Far across the bean fields, a swarm of race cars on some dirt track made a sound like a hive of bees." Can you hear it? Or how about this one: "Pulse racing, she had no spit." I read so many sentences twice, just to soak them up. What a writer. While this still isn't my usual taste, I'm truly glad I didn't miss out.

From the world of political intrigue, back-biting, wanna-be monarchs, and a heck of a lot of inbreeding, comes this narrative of the duchesse de Berry, whose son was heir to the French throne before the ouster of the Bourbons. An early day Princess Diana type, she endeared herself to the populace when she came on the scene, mixing with the public and shopping on the town. Hot on the heels of the French Revolution, this was an era fraught with the potential for dire consequences if one was caught on the wrong side of the ruling powers. Although, after the Bourbon exile, the Duchess utilized her talents as disguising herself as a boy to escape detection, eventually her bad choice of cohorts caught up with her. Enter Simon Deutz, an opportunist of monumental proportions, who even "converted" to Catholicism when he thought the winds of fortune were blowing that direction. The reason this was so staggering was that he was the son of France's Chief Rabbi. This betrayal of the beloved Duchess was unfathomable to many, and quite unfortunate for the Jews of the land. While France had been a relatively friendly place for Jews to live, after this the rumbling anti-semitism that had been previously subdued was renewed, with a fervor that was frightening and vicious. And we all know what came of that. While a very well-researched book, sometimes I felt that I was in for a wade along the shore but instead found myself in a submarine in the Mariana Trench. Lots of unnecessary detail and commentary (for example, the small size of her feet, rendering her unable to wear anything but the softest of leathers--really?) made it a bit tiresome. Unlikely opinions aside, it was a thorough documentation of an unfortunate sequence of events that had huge global and societal impact.

Long before it was trendy to thank healthcare workers, our author was slogging through his nights, navigating between the patients who needed him, the doctors who were disdainful of him, unmentionable bodily fluids assailing him, and potential physical threats awaiting him at his destinations. Such is the life of the EMT and (para)medics who we just assume will be there if we call. I'm guilty, too. This book does a good job of taking you through the emotional highs and lows, the macabre humor, and the inescapable sorrow that comes with a job like this one. These people are not paid enough for this. Nevertheless, Kevin delivers this narration of his decade-long tenure in the emergency medical field with heart and humor, helping us want to keep going. Probably a lot like his ambulance work. I'll bet he was a dang good medic. Hats off.

This book starts out with the definition of alexithymia (the inability to identify and express one's feelings--heard of it? I sure hadn't) and takes off from there. Despite his glaring differences from the norm, he is able to draw in another of the school's misfits, and this connection is a pivotal point in his life. Since this problem was only identified in the 1970s, I found myself wondering how many people I'd met who had it, and how I might have thought of them had I known. Kinda makes one cringe, right?

This little book does a good job of chronicling Mozart's development as a composer and man. It also tells of some of the heartache he experienced as a result of his constant efforts to please his father, and still be his own person. Serviceable, but didn't really bring him to life for me. Kudos for research, but the delivery was a bit dry. I'll just keep listening and let his music tell me the story instead.

This is a story of a tight-knit Chicago suburb, and their proud Black history. When one resident's son, Stew Pot, is released from prison and comes home to the neighborhood he tormented all those years ago, we know things won't be smooth. And they aren't. This layered tale of sin, redemption, forgiveness, and betrayal is sometimes sad, shocking, thought-provoking, and laugh-out-loud funny. I really enjoyed it and wanted to move right on in.

This book starts out with a rambling narrative of some mystery book sent to random people, and the search for its origin. Then you find out, and the answer is a big nothing. Jon ultimately takes a class on how to interpret the PCL-R Checklist (THE Psychopath Test), and after this three-day event, seems to fancy himself as an expert in the field. The book took us down yet more digressive paths into the lives of psychopaths (or are they?), and all the while, Jon was akwardly comparing himself to these people, sometimes saying things like, "Well, at least I haven't done anything as bad as the things Charlotte has done." Odd that he would put that in the book, in quotes, unless he was going to slam us later on with a real twister that would make one think twice about giving oneself too much credit for being awesome. This wasn't the only statement like this, so I was really looking forward to the inevitable kicker, lesson, overarching wisdom. Nope. Just awkward. Although I learned some about the unfortunate history of the mental health industry, I honestly could have skipped the whole thing.

The older I get, the more I realize that "we" most certainly weren't always the good guys, despite our history lessons. This portrayal of a poor family fleeing persecution in old-timey Phillipines is pretty jarring. Their first rulers were the Spaniards, and although some were moral and kind, most were not. You hope that with the introduction of the U.S. troops, things will change. Alas. Our history classes didn't quite tell the whole story, it seems. Educational, rich and shameful.

Gogol paints a vivid picture of a bleak time and an unforgiving place. The characters feel quite real, and the plots are effortless. It seems that he had some inside knowledge of such problems, as his own death followed problems of mental instability. Not a fun book, but readable anyway. Poor dude.

This little book (published in 1993) was captivating. Efficiently informational, it's written in interview format, so all are first-person accounts. We've all read what the Jim Crow south was like, and heard about school segregation. In this book, instead, you're submerged into the experience, feeling the frustration of the children and fears of the parents. You get swept up in the wave of passion which drove these brave people to risk it all (no exaggeration here, I mean ALL) and commit, because something had to change. MLK Jr. is "Uncle Martin" to some of these kids, and you see that side of him, the unassuming man with unwavering faith, and how he used that foundation to become a leader for all time. A must-read.

First of all, the premise of this book is quite serious. Sexual abuse of anyone, by anyone, is horrific and life-changing. So it was a brave effort for our author, Amber, to take on the task of writing about a female serial rapist of men. I applaud her desire to expose this issue for what it is, a violation of untold proportion, one underappreciated by the general public because of our discomfort over the age-old question about how an aroused man could actually be raped. (Spoiler alert: drugs help.) That being said, I wasn't surprised to learn that some of Amber's earlier works are books of poetry. Turns out this is, too. Don't get me wrong--she has talent in that area, but it's just that it felt much more like a platform for that purpose than a fully fleshed-out story. Generally weird, bleak and tragic, this book has good intentions but fell a bit short for me.