We often see parole officers as harsh, unfelling, or at best, benignly neglectful, at least in TV shows. After reading this book, my feelings have completely changed. Landing in the job between other gigs, the author gives us a view of the tremendous dedication and personal commitment it takes to hold this position, and the hoops through which they jump to make things happen for their charges. There are stories of parolees who made it, against all odds, and some who didn't. It's not a job I'd want; I can't imagine the stress, burnout and daily frustration, but somehow they keep going. Somehow there are people who can do it. Were I newly out of prison, I'd want someone like this author or his co-workers in my camp.

This little book is best digested chapter by chapter, so as to ruminate a bit. The author gives historical references to illustrate his points, and you're left with the profound notion that people have a very hard time learning from their own, or others' mistakes. Snyder never mentions anyone by name, but I think we all know who is in question here. The real question is: Have we learned our lesson?

I really looked forward to this book. I'd read one other with the same premise (dead people speaking about their lives from the grave) and it was rife with community secrets and a long-ago mystery that gradually crystallized to clarity. I'd hoped for the same. Um, no. I had several problems with this book. 1. At times it just felt like an outlet for the author's stream of consciousness. Ugh. 2. The dead people curiously all spoke with the same "voice". Wouldn't that have been corrected at a 5th grade level or so? 3. There was really no closure of the circle of all the stories. Just meandering. He's not that good of a writer for that to be satisfying. Suffice it to say I won't be looking for other books by this author. Or rather, I will, in order to avoid reading them.

Lucy Cooke could write about taking out the trash and I'd read it. And enjoy it. So no big surprised that her torpedo of a book was a rollicking good read and educational to boot. Who knew there were "mean girl" animals? And that some species will morph between male and female depending on the need at the time? And what about female dominated species--particular some who engage in a little girl-on-girl action to break the ice? This book will turn the animal knowledge you thought you had on its head, and then spin you around for good measure. It gave me many spiderweb moments, in traveling from this fact, to that premise, to that speculation that maybe, all along, we've been sold a bill of goods about what's "normal" and what's not. It made me wonder about human evolution, and whether or not we're designed to be nice, or rather, hard-wired to be cruel, and it definitely led me to consider research, and the undeclared biases of the folks in the white coats. A thought-provoking, light-hearted, yet meaty book--I highly recommend it.

I bought this book because it was published in 1861 and written by a woman who was a former slave. Honestly, I thought the writing style would be a little bogged down like lots of books written in that time, but it wasn't. I was transported to her life, her place, her horrors. I could not believe the lengths to which this woman went to escape her lecherous "owner", and to ultimately secure her freedom. Harriet is a hero, an inspiration, and a testament to the ability of the human mind to transcend hardships physical and mental if one is sufficiently motivated. I even love the cover photograph of Harriet, with a wry little smile, seemingly saying, "I won.".

This vintage whodunit seemed to be simple--I thought I had it figured out, but I didn't! Definitely did not see the twist at the end coming at all. Of course there are some moments that wouldn't get past the editor these days, but if you disregard those, or maybe mentally swap other words/persons/sentiments you can get past them. All in all a tidy little mystery.

One morning, as author Lynne Cox was heading in from her daily swim in the southern California surf, she was alerted that a baby gray whale was swimming along with her. Had she swam to shore, the whale would have followed her and been beached. So she kept going, swimming much farther out in hopes to reconnect the baby, "Grayson", with his mother. She continued her swim for hours beyond the norm, while onlookers and locals tried to rally help. The story is heartwarming, and mom and baby do eventually reunite. Lynne's recollection of the events of the day are astounding, as is her obvious knowledge of ocean life she was pressed to notice on such an unusual day, with an unusual swim, with a most unexpected buddy. There's a lot of detail at the beginning of the book which was honestly a little excessive for me, but it all came together when the whale appeared. This is a feel-good book for those days when you just need something nice to think about. And maybe she'll inspire you, on an unusual day of your own, to just keep swimming, too.

This book took off like a shot for me, but as the story progressed, things definitely took a turn. I found the protagonist extremely sympathetic initially, only to end up really abhoring her. I felt her dramatic U-turn was implausible, which made her extreme actions then seem unlikely. The story is about an orphan who is taken in by an unlikely benefactress when all her other family can't be bothered. As tenuous as their initial relationship is, they eventually form a bond that seems to have possibilities. When her beloved, but morally questionable brother meets his sister's new guardian, however, things get more complicated. Love the beginning, but hated the end.

White people have so much power that it's embarrassing. Even women. But in general, women tend to think of ourselves as shotgun riders in the car of life, and for good reason--the world is set up to keep us thinking that way. Stay in your lane, ride in that seat, listen to the tunes pre-selected for you. In this book, Jenna Arnold shakes us out of our passenger complacency (or tries to) with her no-nonsense perspective. She tells us of how important we all are, as just regular folks, and that we're all just ordinary together and can get things DONE. Don't be intimidated! You are powerful! So inspiring! The truth of the matter is, though, that she not only looks like a movie star, but has done everything aside from swimming to the bottom of the Mariana Trench and establishing a colony on Mars. Everything else, though? Check, check and check. I was clicking along with her until I realized I wouldn't be qualified to take out her trash. Nevertheless, she brings a difficult topic to the table and serves it up well. White women have a ton of power that could make real change happen were it leveraged. Kudos to her for trying to do just that.

Do you like to have fun? Do you love to laugh? Allie Brosh, delivers all that and more in this, her second book. She takes stories from her past and flight-of-ideas them into cartoon form, then whisks you away on tangential whims, but somehow ends up where she started, managing to make sense. However, all of that fun and lightheartedness is definitely shielding us/her from the underbelly of the story(ies). As you travel deeper into the book, between the lines you see the pain she dealt (deals?) with to create these wacky narratives. While I love her work, part of me wishes we lived in the same town and I could have a quiet chat with her on a Sunday morning. I'm in equal parts awed by her and worried about her. Nevertheless, perhaps writing is her own form of therapy, and I will most certainly continue to support her by buying/reading/recommending anything that flows out of her pen.

No, but, I'm going to. I've never written a book, so kudos to old Phil for having the gumption to do this. But dude, proofread. How about basic spellcheck? How about a friend who's a reader? There's an error in the first sentence; there's an error on the back-cover blurb, and it just keeps plugging along that way. Mistake after mistake after mistake, and just plain cloddy writing. Honestly, I couldn't get past the first few pages. I tried making a game out of it by highlighting the errors, but even that got un-fun after about two pages. Seems like a worthwhile topic, and I appreciate that he cares. But man, stick to lecturing, maybe? Because writing is not your thing. Sorry.

This is why I read. In the past, I'd only had passing conversations of British rule in India, and the ensuing "Partition". Wow--what a bland word to describe the horrors that preceded the fracturing of a nation. In Moth, the author takes us into the streets, the houses, the schools, and the minds of people hiding from the extreme violence that took thousands upon thousands of lives. Told through the voices of one Brahmin family in Delhi, this tale is gripping and tense. There were characters I liked at times, and loathed at others, but I guess that made them all the more realistic. The author also touched on some taboo topics, but only implied, so probably that would be good book club fodder. Overall, memorable, with hope edging out tragedy as the overriding theme.