Here's the Boston Globe's pick for the best fiction of 2007, if you're interested. I'll also post Time's when I find it.
http://www.boston.com/ae/books/articles/2007/12/02/the_best_fiction_of_2007/
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Mystery/Chick Lit/Historical Fiction
Just read 2 books that fit into all those categories. The first was Birds of a Feather by Jacqueline Winspear. It was heavier on the mystery and I think it is actually a sequel to a book called Maisie Dobbs, which I suspect of being better than this one. This was a good book, but it kept referring to interesting stuff in the first book that I hadn't read.
The second cross genre book was a little heavier on the chick lit side. It was the Deception of the Emerald Ring by Lauren Willig and it was so fun! I bought it because it said "Pride and Prejudice lives on" on the front so I thought it was a retelling or something. Well, I was originally disappointed when it showed NO resemblance to P and P and I had been drawn in! But it turned out to be a fun adventure. It is also part of a series, and this is a series I plan on working my way through. Here is a teaser:
"In the course of her long career as de facto keeper of the Alsworthy menage, Letty had confronted all manner of domestic disruption, from exploding Christmas puddings to indignant tradesmen, and even, on one memorable occasion, escaped livestock. Letty had bandaged burns, coaxed her little brother's budgie out of tree, and stage-managed her family's yearly remove to a rented town house in London.
An attempted elopement was something new.
The whole situation was straight out of the comic stage: the daughter of the house hastily packing in the middle of the night with the help of her trusty (and soon to be unemployed) maid, the faithful lover waiting downstairs with a speedy carriage, ready to whisk them away to Gretna Green. All that was needed was a rope ladder and an irate guardian in hot pursuit.
That role, Letty realized fell to her. It didn't seem quite fair, but there it was. She had to stop Mary.
But how? Remonstrating with Mary wouldn't be any use. Over the past few years, Mary had made it quite clear that she didn't care to take advice from a sister, and a younger sister at that. She responded to Letty's well-meaning suggestions with the unblinking disdain perfected by cats in their dealings with their humans. Letty knew just how Mary would react. She would hear Letty out without saying a word, and then calmly go on to do whatever it was she had intended to do in the first place.
Rousing her parents would be worse than useless. Her father would simply blink at her over his spectacles and comment mildly that if Mary wished to make a spectacle of herself, it would be best to let her get on with it as quickly as possible and with as little trouble to themselves as could be had. As for her mother...Letty's face twisted in a terrible grimace that would undoubtedly lead to all sorts of unattractive wrinkles later in life. There was certainly no help to be found from that quarter. Her mother would probably help Mary into his lordship's carriage.
Letty looked longingly at the (fire) poker. She couldn't, though. She really couldn't."
The second cross genre book was a little heavier on the chick lit side. It was the Deception of the Emerald Ring by Lauren Willig and it was so fun! I bought it because it said "Pride and Prejudice lives on" on the front so I thought it was a retelling or something. Well, I was originally disappointed when it showed NO resemblance to P and P and I had been drawn in! But it turned out to be a fun adventure. It is also part of a series, and this is a series I plan on working my way through. Here is a teaser:
"In the course of her long career as de facto keeper of the Alsworthy menage, Letty had confronted all manner of domestic disruption, from exploding Christmas puddings to indignant tradesmen, and even, on one memorable occasion, escaped livestock. Letty had bandaged burns, coaxed her little brother's budgie out of tree, and stage-managed her family's yearly remove to a rented town house in London.
An attempted elopement was something new.
The whole situation was straight out of the comic stage: the daughter of the house hastily packing in the middle of the night with the help of her trusty (and soon to be unemployed) maid, the faithful lover waiting downstairs with a speedy carriage, ready to whisk them away to Gretna Green. All that was needed was a rope ladder and an irate guardian in hot pursuit.
That role, Letty realized fell to her. It didn't seem quite fair, but there it was. She had to stop Mary.
But how? Remonstrating with Mary wouldn't be any use. Over the past few years, Mary had made it quite clear that she didn't care to take advice from a sister, and a younger sister at that. She responded to Letty's well-meaning suggestions with the unblinking disdain perfected by cats in their dealings with their humans. Letty knew just how Mary would react. She would hear Letty out without saying a word, and then calmly go on to do whatever it was she had intended to do in the first place.
Rousing her parents would be worse than useless. Her father would simply blink at her over his spectacles and comment mildly that if Mary wished to make a spectacle of herself, it would be best to let her get on with it as quickly as possible and with as little trouble to themselves as could be had. As for her mother...Letty's face twisted in a terrible grimace that would undoubtedly lead to all sorts of unattractive wrinkles later in life. There was certainly no help to be found from that quarter. Her mother would probably help Mary into his lordship's carriage.
Letty looked longingly at the (fire) poker. She couldn't, though. She really couldn't."
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
No Flying in the House
And she can do lots of things that other kids can't do such as kiss her elbow and fly around the house. But being a fairy isn't all fun and games, and soon Annabel must make a choice. If she chooses to be a fairy she'll have to say good-bye to Gloria forever.
I thought that this was a really great book. I think everyone should read it. I tried to find another book by this lady on Amazon. But the book was $55.00. It was a collectors item. I got this one for free at my school during "week of the young reader" week.
- by Madeline A.
Friday, November 23, 2007
MONK?
Anyone read the Monk books? I just realized there were books. So, if I watch the show will the book be the same thing?
Friday, November 02, 2007
a total waste of makeup
So Barnes and Noble were having a big sale a while back. I bought all kinds of books for $2.40 a piece. Keeping that in mind I was not too choosy in my selections. I mean for $3 if it is bad you don't feel bad for not reading it! So one of those purchases was a total waste of makeup by Kim Gruenenfelder. A little except picking up the grandparents from the airport before their granddaughter's wedding:
"Before I can ask my mother what deluded universe she lives in, we see my grandparents and Mawv coming down the escalator.
Grandama and Grandpa look like a couple of Protestants on vacation. They're dressed head-to-toe in L.L. Bean, including the shoes. If they were visiting New York, they'd have been mugged already.
My Mawv, on the other hand, is dressed in a beautiful pink dress that I swear I saw this spring at Bloomingdale's, and three-inch-high heels. A ninety-five-year-old woman in three-inch-heels.
If that sight doesn't cover the cost of admission, I don't know what does. Grandma holds Mawv's hand, treating her like an invalid who could break at any moment.
"Are you all right, Mother?!" Grandma screams into Mauv's left ear.
"Rose," Mawv responds in her normal voice, "I bought a hearing aid so that people wouldn't shout at me."
"Bernice!" Grandpa screams into her right ear, "Your hearing aid isn't working! You couldn't hear a word I said on the plane!" "NO, I was ignoring you!" Mawv (aka Bernice) mockingly screams back into Grandpa's ear. Then she returns to her normal voice. "I bought this damn thing because it said on the box that it filters out unwanted noise. But I can still hear every damn thing you say." She sees me and her face lights up. "Munchkin!"
"Before I can ask my mother what deluded universe she lives in, we see my grandparents and Mawv coming down the escalator.
Grandama and Grandpa look like a couple of Protestants on vacation. They're dressed head-to-toe in L.L. Bean, including the shoes. If they were visiting New York, they'd have been mugged already.
My Mawv, on the other hand, is dressed in a beautiful pink dress that I swear I saw this spring at Bloomingdale's, and three-inch-high heels. A ninety-five-year-old woman in three-inch-heels.
If that sight doesn't cover the cost of admission, I don't know what does. Grandma holds Mawv's hand, treating her like an invalid who could break at any moment.
"Are you all right, Mother?!" Grandma screams into Mauv's left ear.
"Rose," Mawv responds in her normal voice, "I bought a hearing aid so that people wouldn't shout at me."
"Bernice!" Grandpa screams into her right ear, "Your hearing aid isn't working! You couldn't hear a word I said on the plane!" "NO, I was ignoring you!" Mawv (aka Bernice) mockingly screams back into Grandpa's ear. Then she returns to her normal voice. "I bought this damn thing because it said on the box that it filters out unwanted noise. But I can still hear every damn thing you say." She sees me and her face lights up. "Munchkin!"
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Thirteenth Tale
This was a really good book. It's by Diane Setterfield and of course I looked her up and can't find any other books by her. Isn't that always the way. Well this book was so enjoyable that I kept it from the library till it was overdue, and those of you who know me well know how EXTREMELY rare that is! Ok, Ok, here's your teaser:
"Isabelle Angelfield was odd.
Isabelle Angelfield was born during a rainstorm.
It is impossible to know whether or not these facts are connected. But when, two and half decades later, Isabelle left home for the second time, people in the village looked back and remembered the endlessness of the rain on the day of her birth. Some remembered as if it was yesterday that the doctor was late, delayed by the floods caused by the river having burst its banks. Others recalled beyond the shadow of a doubt that the cord had been wrapped round the baby's neck, almost strangling her before she could be born. Yes, it was a difficult birth, all right, for on the stroke of six, just as the baby was born and the doctor rang the bell, hadn't the mother passed away, out of this world and into the next? So if the weather had been fine, and the doctor had been earlier, and the cord had not deprived the child of oxygen, and if the mother had not died...
And if, and if, and if. Such thinking was pointless. Isabelle was as Isabelle was, and that is all there is to say about the matter.
The infant, a white scrap of fury, was motherless. And at the beginning, to all intents and purposes, it looked like she'd be fatherless, too. For the father, George Angelfield, fell into a decline. He locked himself in the library and refused point-blank to come out. This might seem excessive; ten years of marriage is usually enough to cure marital affection, but Angelfield was an odd fellow, and there it was. He had loved her more than he loved his horses, more even than his dog. AS for their son, Charlie, a boy of nine, it never entered George's head to wonder whether he loved him more or less than Mathilde, for the fact was, he never thought of Charlie at all.
Bereaved, driven half mad with grief, George Angelfield sat all day in the library, eating nothing, seeing no one. And he spent his nights there, too, on the daybed, not sleeping but staring red-eyed at the moon. This went on for months. His pale cheeks became paler; her grew thin; he stopped speaking. Specialists were called from London. THe vicar came and left again. The dog pined away from want of affection, and when it died, George Angelfield barely noticed.
In the end the Missus got fed up with it all. She picked up baby Isabelle from the crib in the nursery and took her downstairs. She strode past the butler, ignoring his protestations, and went into the library without knocking. UP to the desk she marched, and she plumped the baby down in George Angelfield's arms without a word. Then she turned her back and walked out, slamming the door behind her."
Don't you want to know what happens now? I did. Although I didn't realize the book was a mystery until the last chapter! The whole thing is one big clue! It was awesome. Enjoy.
"Isabelle Angelfield was odd.
Isabelle Angelfield was born during a rainstorm.
It is impossible to know whether or not these facts are connected. But when, two and half decades later, Isabelle left home for the second time, people in the village looked back and remembered the endlessness of the rain on the day of her birth. Some remembered as if it was yesterday that the doctor was late, delayed by the floods caused by the river having burst its banks. Others recalled beyond the shadow of a doubt that the cord had been wrapped round the baby's neck, almost strangling her before she could be born. Yes, it was a difficult birth, all right, for on the stroke of six, just as the baby was born and the doctor rang the bell, hadn't the mother passed away, out of this world and into the next? So if the weather had been fine, and the doctor had been earlier, and the cord had not deprived the child of oxygen, and if the mother had not died...
And if, and if, and if. Such thinking was pointless. Isabelle was as Isabelle was, and that is all there is to say about the matter.
The infant, a white scrap of fury, was motherless. And at the beginning, to all intents and purposes, it looked like she'd be fatherless, too. For the father, George Angelfield, fell into a decline. He locked himself in the library and refused point-blank to come out. This might seem excessive; ten years of marriage is usually enough to cure marital affection, but Angelfield was an odd fellow, and there it was. He had loved her more than he loved his horses, more even than his dog. AS for their son, Charlie, a boy of nine, it never entered George's head to wonder whether he loved him more or less than Mathilde, for the fact was, he never thought of Charlie at all.
Bereaved, driven half mad with grief, George Angelfield sat all day in the library, eating nothing, seeing no one. And he spent his nights there, too, on the daybed, not sleeping but staring red-eyed at the moon. This went on for months. His pale cheeks became paler; her grew thin; he stopped speaking. Specialists were called from London. THe vicar came and left again. The dog pined away from want of affection, and when it died, George Angelfield barely noticed.
In the end the Missus got fed up with it all. She picked up baby Isabelle from the crib in the nursery and took her downstairs. She strode past the butler, ignoring his protestations, and went into the library without knocking. UP to the desk she marched, and she plumped the baby down in George Angelfield's arms without a word. Then she turned her back and walked out, slamming the door behind her."
Don't you want to know what happens now? I did. Although I didn't realize the book was a mystery until the last chapter! The whole thing is one big clue! It was awesome. Enjoy.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Ok, revised some
NOW the masterlist should have all the books I have read on it in bold. So I guess I need to start working on the non-bold ones even though some of them I might not. (Also, I highlighed Memoirs of a Geisha even though I only read the first few chapters. I'm done with it anyway. I didn't highlight Reading Lolita in Tehran, even though I started reading it 3 years ago. I'm not done with it. I'm going to try again sometime.)
Response to the Master List
I wish I had a master list... I'm just trying to keep mine on Amazon, but I'm not very good at updating it (I usually go through it about once a year when xmas rolls around.) I've read several books on your list, and have been found seriously considering others in the corners of bookstores. Here are my opinions, if you are interested:
Achebe – I read this book and can’t really remember much about it. Although, other people rave about it, I don’t remember disliking it, but don’t really remember anything else either.
Alvarez – same as Achebe (and I own this one!) maybe I should just pick it up and read it again.
Berendt – I really liked this book, and just like everyone else, it made me want to go to Georgia on a little southern vacation.
Flagg – I think Fannie Flagg writes the perfect lazy Sunday afternoon novel. I think “Welcome to the World…” is not as good as “Fried Green Tomatoes…” but it’s still pretty excellent.
Golden – I would skip this one. I didn’t find it as compelling as other people told me. I would recommend Pico Iyer’s “The lady and the monk” for more interesting Japanese reads.
Haddon – I really liked this ‘book’ (I listened to this one.) Move this one closer to the top of your list!
Kingsolver – one of my most favorite writers. I own this one and really liked it. If you haven’t read “The Bean Trees” or “The Poisonwood Bible” read those first. (Although “Prodigal Summer” is very good, the other two are better.)
Letts – I could swear that I read this while staying at your apartment in KC once while you were in college! Are you sure you don’t already own this one?
McCourt – I had a *shrug* ‘whatever’, reaction to this book. I’m not sure why I thought he sounded whiny, but many other people liked this book.
Roy – whoof, excellent and heavy. My advice would be to not finish the book right before bedtime. I had a really hard time getting to sleep after reading this one, and I went back and read the ending twice, it was VERY good. (A less heavy and less excellent recommendation would be “the Death of Vishnu.”)
Wells – Skip this one. Really, I thought it was awful, horrible, brain poison. I think I finished it out of spite and have no idea why so many people thought it was good. Horrible traumatizing childhoods make for zany adulthood? I think not.
Achebe – I read this book and can’t really remember much about it. Although, other people rave about it, I don’t remember disliking it, but don’t really remember anything else either.
Alvarez – same as Achebe (and I own this one!) maybe I should just pick it up and read it again.
Berendt – I really liked this book, and just like everyone else, it made me want to go to Georgia on a little southern vacation.
Flagg – I think Fannie Flagg writes the perfect lazy Sunday afternoon novel. I think “Welcome to the World…” is not as good as “Fried Green Tomatoes…” but it’s still pretty excellent.
Golden – I would skip this one. I didn’t find it as compelling as other people told me. I would recommend Pico Iyer’s “The lady and the monk” for more interesting Japanese reads.
Haddon – I really liked this ‘book’ (I listened to this one.) Move this one closer to the top of your list!
Kingsolver – one of my most favorite writers. I own this one and really liked it. If you haven’t read “The Bean Trees” or “The Poisonwood Bible” read those first. (Although “Prodigal Summer” is very good, the other two are better.)
Letts – I could swear that I read this while staying at your apartment in KC once while you were in college! Are you sure you don’t already own this one?
McCourt – I had a *shrug* ‘whatever’, reaction to this book. I’m not sure why I thought he sounded whiny, but many other people liked this book.
Roy – whoof, excellent and heavy. My advice would be to not finish the book right before bedtime. I had a really hard time getting to sleep after reading this one, and I went back and read the ending twice, it was VERY good. (A less heavy and less excellent recommendation would be “the Death of Vishnu.”)
Wells – Skip this one. Really, I thought it was awful, horrible, brain poison. I think I finished it out of spite and have no idea why so many people thought it was good. Horrible traumatizing childhoods make for zany adulthood? I think not.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Masterlist
Ok, this list is mostly for me. I have been keeping this list of the books Pam's book-group read and checking them off for the last 3 years. Now I just want this paper off my desk. What better way to save the list than on the book blog? Here they are:
Abraham, Pearl: The Romancer Reader
Achebe, Chinua: Things Fall Apart
Albom, Mitch: Tuesdays with Morrie
Alvarez, Julia: How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents
Atwood, Margaret: The Blind Assasin
Berendt, John: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
Bohjalian, Chris: Midwives
Brooks, Geraldine: Year of Wonders
Chevalier, Tracy: Girl with a Pearl Earring
Cunningham, Michael: The Hours
Dallas, Sandra: Persian Pickle Club
Diamant, Anita: The Red Tent
du Maurier, Daphne
Enger, Lief: Peace Like a River
Evanovich, Janet: One for the Money
Faulkner, William
Fielding, Helen: Bridget Jones Diary
Flagg, Fannie: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl
Frazen, Jonathan: The Corrections
Frazier, Charles: Cold Mountain
Glass, Julia: Three Junes
Golden, Arthur: Memoirs of a Geisha
Graham, Janice: Firebird
Gregory, Philippa: The Queen's Fool
Gulland, Sandra: Tales of Passion, Tales of Woe
Guterson, David: Snow Falling on Cedars
Haddon, Mark: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime
Hamilton, Jane: The Book of Ruth
Hegi, Ursula: Stones from the River
Hoffman, Alice: The Probable Future
Irving, John: A Prayer for Owen Meany
Irving, John: A Widow for One Year
Johnson, Charles: Middle Passages
Kaysen, Susanna: Girl Interrupted
Kidd, Sue Monk: The Secret Life of Bees
Kingsolver, Barbara: Prodigal Summer
Lamb, Wally: She's Come Undone
Landvik, Lorna: Patty Jane's House of Curl
Letts, Billie: Where the Heart Is
Martel, Yann: Life of Pi
McBride, James: The Color of Water
McCourt, Frank: Angela's Ashes
McDermott, Alice: Charming Billy
McEwan, Ian: Atonement
Monroe, Mary Alice: The Book Club
Moore, Christopher: Lamb
Moriaty, Laura: The Center of Everything
Morrison, Toni: Paradise
Nafisi, Azar: Reading Lolita in Tehran
Niffenger, Audrey: The Time Traveler's Wife
O'Carroll, Brendan: The Mammy
Patchett, Ann: Bel Canto
Patchett, Ann: Patron Saint of Liars
Perry, Anne: The Cater Street Hangman
Rowling, JK: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Roy, Arundhati: The God of Small Things
Rushdee, Salmon: Fury
Russo, Richard: Empire Falls
Shreve, Anita: The Last Time they Met
Schlink, Bernhard: The Reader
Tyler, Ann: Ladder of Years
Tyler, Ann: The Amateur Marriage
Vreeland, Susan: Girl in Hyacinth Blue
Wells, Rebecca: Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood
Lethem, Jonathan: Motherless Brooklyn
Hosseini Khaled: The Kite Runner
Here are a few other Authors I wrote down for some reason:
Ahern, Cecilia
Gore, Kristin
Eggers, Dave
Yeah, desk is just that much cleaner now!
Abraham, Pearl: The Romancer Reader
Achebe, Chinua: Things Fall Apart
Albom, Mitch: Tuesdays with Morrie
Alvarez, Julia: How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents
Atwood, Margaret: The Blind Assasin
Berendt, John: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
Bohjalian, Chris: Midwives
Brooks, Geraldine: Year of Wonders
Chevalier, Tracy: Girl with a Pearl Earring
Cunningham, Michael: The Hours
Dallas, Sandra: Persian Pickle Club
Diamant, Anita: The Red Tent
du Maurier, Daphne
Enger, Lief: Peace Like a River
Evanovich, Janet: One for the Money
Faulkner, William
Fielding, Helen: Bridget Jones Diary
Flagg, Fannie: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl
Frazen, Jonathan: The Corrections
Frazier, Charles: Cold Mountain
Glass, Julia: Three Junes
Golden, Arthur: Memoirs of a Geisha
Graham, Janice: Firebird
Gregory, Philippa: The Queen's Fool
Gulland, Sandra: Tales of Passion, Tales of Woe
Guterson, David: Snow Falling on Cedars
Haddon, Mark: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime
Hamilton, Jane: The Book of Ruth
Hegi, Ursula: Stones from the River
Hoffman, Alice: The Probable Future
Irving, John: A Prayer for Owen Meany
Irving, John: A Widow for One Year
Johnson, Charles: Middle Passages
Kaysen, Susanna: Girl Interrupted
Kidd, Sue Monk: The Secret Life of Bees
Kingsolver, Barbara: Prodigal Summer
Lamb, Wally: She's Come Undone
Landvik, Lorna: Patty Jane's House of Curl
Letts, Billie: Where the Heart Is
Martel, Yann: Life of Pi
McBride, James: The Color of Water
McCourt, Frank: Angela's Ashes
McDermott, Alice: Charming Billy
McEwan, Ian: Atonement
Monroe, Mary Alice: The Book Club
Moore, Christopher: Lamb
Moriaty, Laura: The Center of Everything
Morrison, Toni: Paradise
Nafisi, Azar: Reading Lolita in Tehran
Niffenger, Audrey: The Time Traveler's Wife
O'Carroll, Brendan: The Mammy
Patchett, Ann: Bel Canto
Patchett, Ann: Patron Saint of Liars
Perry, Anne: The Cater Street Hangman
Rowling, JK: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Roy, Arundhati: The God of Small Things
Rushdee, Salmon: Fury
Russo, Richard: Empire Falls
Shreve, Anita: The Last Time they Met
Schlink, Bernhard: The Reader
Tyler, Ann: Ladder of Years
Tyler, Ann: The Amateur Marriage
Vreeland, Susan: Girl in Hyacinth Blue
Wells, Rebecca: Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood
Lethem, Jonathan: Motherless Brooklyn
Hosseini Khaled: The Kite Runner
Here are a few other Authors I wrote down for some reason:
Ahern, Cecilia
Gore, Kristin
Eggers, Dave
Yeah, desk is just that much cleaner now!
Monday, October 01, 2007
Briga-DOOM
Ok, for all your chick-lit, murder mystery fans, here's a laugh: Briga-DOOM by Susan Goodwill. It was all fun and adventure. Here's a teaser:
Chapter One
"You look ridiculous, Kate," my aunt Kitty said.
This coming from a seventy-four-year-old in a black-feathered turban, yellow dance leotard, blue high-tops, and a red plaid mini-skirt.
I sighed and closed the door behind her. I felt ridiculous. Golf clothing was new to me, pink was not my color, and the socks, with their little pom-poms bouncing around my ankles, made me feel like the rear window of a Chevy low-rider.
Kitty and I stood in the lobby of the London family's dubious legacy, the Egyptian Theatre. She handed me a Styrofoam coffee cup.
"The outfit's for Ronnie's golf outing," I said. "He picked it out."
"Well, darling, you can always divorce him," she said, maneuvering her way across the loose floor tiles behind me. "They'll get easier now that you've gone through one. By your third or fourth, you'll slide through like a hot knife through butter."
That's the first page although my favorite parts are actually about dumpster diving and a naked bandit who mugs old ladies. It's fun and fast.
Chapter One
"You look ridiculous, Kate," my aunt Kitty said.
This coming from a seventy-four-year-old in a black-feathered turban, yellow dance leotard, blue high-tops, and a red plaid mini-skirt.
I sighed and closed the door behind her. I felt ridiculous. Golf clothing was new to me, pink was not my color, and the socks, with their little pom-poms bouncing around my ankles, made me feel like the rear window of a Chevy low-rider.
Kitty and I stood in the lobby of the London family's dubious legacy, the Egyptian Theatre. She handed me a Styrofoam coffee cup.
"The outfit's for Ronnie's golf outing," I said. "He picked it out."
"Well, darling, you can always divorce him," she said, maneuvering her way across the loose floor tiles behind me. "They'll get easier now that you've gone through one. By your third or fourth, you'll slide through like a hot knife through butter."
That's the first page although my favorite parts are actually about dumpster diving and a naked bandit who mugs old ladies. It's fun and fast.
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