Heal the Beasts, by Philipp Schott***-****

Veterinarian Philipp Schott brings us another charming book, Heal the Beasts: A Jaunt Through the Curious History of Veterinary Arts. My thanks go to NetGalley and ECW Press for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

In his trademark style, Schott provides veterinary history through a series of brief vignettes. My favorite deals with Manvir, the constipated elephant. And with that, a word of caution: there’s plenty of gross material here, as one might expect; be advised in case, like me, you are fond of reading and eating simultaneously.

Among other things, we see a series of firsts—for example, Dr. Elinor McGrath was the first veterinarian in the world to perform tonsillectomies in dogs, in 1888. Chicagoans, be proud! The ancient Egyptians tended to spoil their pets every bit as much as many of us do today, and it was a crime to mistreat an animal.

There are also some fictional anecdotes and myths woven into the narrative, and I am not a fan of this, particularly since they are interspersed with factual material within the same chapter. My first preference would be to have everything here be nonfiction, but failing that, for goodness’ sake, separate out the fictional material. Put a little border around those anecdotes or something, don’t just drop them into the middle of true information!

That aside, I like this collection. Most animal lovers will enjoy it, but it would be especially nice to have in veterinary office or hospital waiting rooms. Recommended to those that love their pets—or other people’s.

Fever Beach, by Carl Hiaasen**-***

What happened? I used to absolutely love novels by Carl Hiaasen. In his most recent release, Fever Beach, we see a conflict between good—in the person of our main character, Viva Morales—and evil, played by a variety of Proud Boys wannabees and other undesirables. The good person is always good; the bad guys have no redeeming qualities. Only Viva’s ex-husband is a dynamic character.

Still, my thanks go to Doubleday and NetGalley for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

As I read, I keep reminding myself that this is not a book I’m supposed to take too seriously, to lighten up and just roll with it. I certainly used to do so when reading Hiaasen’s work. But perhaps because of the stereotyping and complete lack of nuance, what might otherwise have seemed droll and satirical, instead comes across like a whole lot of cheap shots fired off the bow.

Mind you, I am certainly not a fan of ultraright organizations, and the rising tide of bigotry, fascist ideology and anti-Semitism concerns me greatly. But in an already highly polarized nation and world, all I can think as I read is that this story isn’t helping. It is the snobbery and elitism of the highly educated that has driven a large number of folks into the arms of extreme right; some intelligently reject the elitism and cancel culture consciously, but they aren’t in this book. In real life, those that are poorly educated and/or intellectually handicapped, as the bad guys in this book are, would in most cases give their right arms to wake up “clever” like Viva.  It strikes me as counterproductive to write a book that makes fun of right-wing intolerance, while practicing intolerance from a different angle.

Back in the day, before anyone judged anyone else by the color of their hat, I used to roar with laughter at this author’s work. Did it change, or did I? I would like to think it is the former.

I rated this book 2.5 stars and have rounded it upward, more from a fondness of his early novels than anything else. I do recall reading another of his more recent books—not for review, but just because I felt like it—and saw some of the same problems, so I will tell you that this book will probably work for you if you enjoyed his last one. Apart from that, I cannot recommend it.

Overkill, by J.A. Jance*****

Overkill is the 18th book in the Ali Reynolds series. Ali and her husband, B. Simpson, run a cybersecurity firm. This mystery features two parallel problems. The first is when B’s first wife, Clarice, is accused of a murder that she didn’t commit. B. wants nothing to do with the problem—or Clarice—but Ali is convinced that she should look into it. The second problem is that Cami, the young woman that works for Ali and B., is being stalked while on a business trip. Both problems create a tremendous amount of suspense for the reader, and Jance is an expert at juggling many threads and details without dropping anything, while making the story clear enough that the reader can keep track. I enjoyed this book a great deal, and it’s for sale now.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Gallery Books for the review copy.

One of the things I love most about reading a J.A. Jance mystery is the feminist mojo she brings to every book. It’s subtle and built into the plot, rather than reading like a manifesto, but her sympathies toward working women, both professionals like Ali, and humble housekeepers such as the woman accused here, is manifest. It’s not an unusual mindset to encounter in a novel these days, but Jance has been doing it since long before it was common. In addition, her pacing never flags, and I don’t get confused by her plot lines, even when there are a good number of characters to track.

This is the first time I’ve used an audio version to read any of Jance’s books; I had fallen behind a bit, so I checked out the audio to keep me company on a road trip. Karen Ziemba does a fine job with the narration. I highly recommend this book to those that love the genre; you can read it as a stand alone if desired.

Class Clown, by Dave Barry****-*****

4.5 stars, rounded upwards.

The first time I read a Dave Barry column, it was 1984, and a friend sent it to me. We had only snail mail back then, but it was so funny that she snipped it out of the airline magazine she’d read on a business trip and mailed it to me. I don’t remember which column it was, but it left me gasping for air, I laughed so hard. This was a difficult time for me, a young mother with two small children, a third on the way, and almost no money, and I floated along on the laughter that article brought me for a solid month. I hung it on the fridge where I could reread it whenever the urge struck me. That is how I became a Dave Barry fan.

Since then, his work has either hit or missed for me; almost all of the time, it has hit and although times are easier for me now, laughter is always a balm. When he misses—which is rare—he misses bigtime. But this time he’s golden, the Dave I remember reading that first time.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

It strikes me again how frequently the funniest humorists, be they journalists, novelists, standup comedians, or comic actors, have tragic backgrounds. Barry has experienced more than his fair share, with a schizophrenic sister who’s been institutionalized, a father that died too young, and a mother that couldn’t recover from his loss, and took her own life. Barry wrote about her when it happened, and he reprints some of it here.

He reprints some other things, too, and I expected that. I don’t think that it cheats the reader when he documents parts of his professional journey by reprinting some of the things he wrote; he’s been writing prolifically for thirty years, and it seems to me that it was probably a lot of work just choosing what to include and what to leave out. It feels strangely like a school reunion, rereading the excerpts from drop dead funny columns that I enjoyed for the first time when they were originally published. Oh, my heart, “Ask Mr. Language Person!” I’m an English teacher, and I’m in stitches all over again.

The thing about an autobiography is that the author is also the subject, and so when he decides what parts of his own life to write about and what to keep private, we readers need to accept that. At the same time, it does seem disingenuous to completely pass over his marriages and divorces. A paragraph for each, maybe? Just give us the benchmarks.

I hadn’t known that he was responsible for Talk Like a Pirate Day, and both I and my middle school students owe him for that one! But the thing that is most striking to me, and that I appreciate most, is his reflection about the political discourse in the U.S., and the way we have become polarized and too often, uncivil. In the past—and he cites the Kennedy/Nixon campaign—arguments between family and friends were “heated, emotional, sometimes angry, but never nasty. At the end of the night everybody hugged everybody, because they were friends, and they understood that they could disagree about politics without believing the other side was evil. Mistaken, maybe. Evil, no.” All I can say about that is thank you, Dave, and amen.

Because I was running late, I checked out the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons. Barry does his own reading, and it’s even better that way.

There are a lot of hilarious experiences he recounts, but the thing about Barry that binds all of the experiences, the columns, and the books he’s written is his refusal to take himself too seriously, and it is his complete and delightful intolerance toward pretentiousness that keeps me coming back. I cannot imagine Dave Barry snubbing anybody, ever. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if everyone was like that?

Highly recommended.

The Medusa Protocol, by Rob Hart****

“’I’m Mark, and I haven’t killed anyone in two and a half years,’ I say.    ‘Hi, Mark.’”

                                                                                                            

The Medusa Protocol is author Rob Hart’s second book in his Assassins Anonymous series. Happily for me, I didn’t notice that I was reading the second in a series; I didn’t read the first, and I might have sidestepped it had I realized I was entering mid-series. As it was, I had fun and enjoyed this satirical romp through a sea of professional murderers, sharks, and poisonous vipers.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Putnam Penguin for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

Our story commences with a group of recovering assassins meeting in a church basement. Then things start to go sideways; a member who’s expected isn’t there, but sends her personal choice of pizza to let them know she’s in trouble just as enemy assassins crash the meeting.

Huh? What?

From there, we dive down the rabbit hole, seeing the past and present alternately through the eyes of Mark, who is Astrid’s mentor in the program, and Astrid, a recovering killer who has been kidnapped and is being held in a Brazilian prison on an island in shark-infested waters, and which is home to a great many large, venomous vipers. How can her friends rescue her without having to kill anybody?

Just keep whispering the Serenity Prayer to yourselves, guys.

This is a fun read. Although the point of view shifts with every chapter, either between characters or time periods, these are clearly delineated, and I have no trouble keeping them straight. I only had the digital galley, not the audio, but I suspect that, assuming the reader provides the headings at chapter beginnings, it will be fine. The humorous moments when the rescuers worry about the mission threatening their sobriety are meted out exactly as they should be, not so many that it stops being funny, but frequent enough to keep me chuckling. There isn’t a lot of character development, but I don’t expect it from a satirical, action-packed novel like this one; there is some dialogue toward the middle that is overly wordy and should be edited down, but apart from that, it’s smooth as glass.

Some reviewers suggest not reading this one unless one has read the first; I am glad I didn’t see that advice till after I had read this one. I don’t care that this book provides spoilers for the first, because I am not going to read that one anyway. I will, however, cheerfully read the next in the series, whenever it becomes available. Meanwhile, I recommend this nifty little book to you.

What Kind of Paradise, by Janelle Brown*****

What if the Unabomber had had a daughter? Thriller writer Janelle Brown spins a fascinating, credible, and memorable story based on this idea. My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

Jane Williams grows up in a remote mountain cabin with her father; her mother died many years ago, so it is just the two of them. Once in a rare while she is allowed to accompany him into town to visit the bookstore, maybe even get an ice cream cone, but otherwise, she is cut off from society. She has no friends, apart from a casual friendship with the bookstore owner’s daughter; she has no play dates, no television, no computer. She is homeschooled. 

But every now and then, her father will wake her from a sound sleep in the middle of the night. They have to go! She grabs her bugout bag and goes through their established routine, escaping via the tunnels he has built beneath their cabin. Her heart pounds, her chest heaves…but hey, it turns out to be only a drill, after all.

Her father is a writer, composing political tracts that he sells in small, independent bookstores that carry zines. And so, for most of each day, he writes, she reads, and when the weather permits, she watches ants build hills, picks wildflowers, and leads the sort of bucolic life he has planned for her. But then, things change.

The story is told from Jane’s point of view; when Jane longs for even a photograph of her dead mother, anything at all to tell her about the other half of her beginnings, I feel it viscerally. Poor kid. But things are not necessarily as they appear, and as she grows to adulthood, Jane finds clues, small tidbits she’s not meant to find, and each morsel leaves her ravenous for more.

The story unfolds in the 1990s with occasional flashes of Jane’s childhood the decade before, so while it’s not historical fiction, it does have a retro vibe, one that Brown provides with absolute accuracy. We see small snatches of the events that took place in the U.S. during that time, but Brown is too good to rely on pop culture, so these are meted out sparingly, only when needed, never as a crutch.

This is a fun read, and it’s unlike anything I have seen written recently. I highly recommend it to fans of the genre.

May the Wolf Die, by Elizabeth Heider***-****

“Sometimes, killing is necessary.”

Elizabeth Heider is a scientist with a long, impressive track record. Now she has published her first mystery, May the Wolf Die, as well, proving that some of us can wear multiple hats very well indeed. My thanks go to Penguin Random House and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

Our protagonist is Nikki Serafino, an investigator living in Italy. She’s out in her boat one day when she finds a man’s corpse, and from there we venture into local organized crime.

The mystery itself wasn’t as engaging as I had anticipated, given the buzz, but there are a few laudatory aspects nonetheless. First, Heider is a scientist, and often when someone is a specialist in some other field, they info-dump so much data into their novel that it loses its sheen. Heider’s restraint here is admirable. The unusual characteristic of the corpse, which I won’t disclose, appeared to be a gimmick that would take over the story, but it wasn’t and didn’t. The ending was solid. But the best and most important feature, the thing that elevates this mystery from three stars to four, is the punchy yet tasteful manner in which Heider deals with sexism and violence against women in the military. There are a couple of stand up and cheer moments that made me sit up and take notice.

This is a debut novel, and a promising start for Heider. I wish her well in her new career.

Far and Away, by Amy Poeppel****-*****

Amy Poeppel is the queen of intelligent feel-good novels. Her newest work, Far and Away, is about two women that have never met, one in Dallas, one in Berlin, who exchange houses for several months. The deal is done fast, as both of them have a short time to line something up, and soon they will both regret their hasty decisions.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Emily Bestler Books for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

One of the things I love best about Poeppel’s writing is her ability to create a complex plot with a lot of moving pieces, along with believable, sympathetic characters; yet somehow, the whole thing is easily understood, never confusing. Our story starts with Lucy and her family in Dallas, Texas. Her eldest child, Jack, is about to graduate from a private high school, then attend M.I.T. At the last minute, however, he is expelled unceremoniously. He’s done something dumb, and it’s been interpreted as something more sinister. He isn’t even offered a chance to explain or to defend himself. And though there is a lot of other business involving other characters, I enjoy this part most for the message it sends us at a time it’s desperately needed. Before you judge someone, take a moment to listen. Ask some questions before you hurl accusations and seek vengeance. If the behavior is as deplorable as you think it is, there’s still plenty of time to accuse and avenge afterward.  We in the U.S. and also Europeans can benefit from this one tasty nugget. Plenty of others can, too.

On the other side of the world in Berlin, Greta’s husband Otto has been invited to teach for a term at a college in Texas. He’s accepted without even discussing it with Greta; he has to go right away! Where will they even live? Otto suggests a hotel; Greta is having none of it. In her desperate search for last minute housing, she is connected with someone that knows that Lucy has decided, quite suddenly, to relocate for the summer. The accusations against Jack have turned to harassment and vandalism, and she’s ready to get out of Dodge. Her husband is incommunicado, performing a simulation for NASA, a part of which is to be cut off from everyone else. Mason still thinks that Jack graduated, and that M.I.T. is Jack’s next step.

And so it is that Lucy and her brood relocate to Greta’s apartment in Berlin, and Greta and Otto take up residence in the massive experimental home in Dallas owned by Lucy and Mason. Not a lot of details have been exchanged about either place; there hasn’t been time. So, they get on the plane, and everybody gets what they get, to their sometimes consternation.

There are many hilarious moments here; I especially enjoy the foreign language errors made, both English to German, and German to English.

If there were one thing I could change, I’d rework the epilogue. There’s a considerable jump in time, but the chapter heading doesn’t tell us, and so I am taking in details while doing some mental calculations. That’s not so bad when it’s at the start of a book, but at the end, it’s disorienting and breaks the flow. I also feel as if there were too many things tied up with too many bows. A kindergarten teacher told me once that the key to having a kindergartner paint, was to know when to stop them. It may also apply to adults and their writing.

Nevertheless, I loved this book! Part of the magic is due to Poeppel’s understanding of human nature, which is inherently good, and part of it is her hilariously quirky humor that often drops in, seemingly out of nowhere. Highly recommended.

Lady Killer, by Katherine Woods***-****

Lady Killer marks the debut of novelist Katherine Wood. The suspense begins when Abby flies to Greece at the invitation of her best friend, an heiress named Gia, who is planning a birthday party there. Gia has disappeared, and it is her journal that provides clues as to what may have happened. Suspicion falls on her husband because of things that are indicated in the journal, but he’s gone, too.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

It is clear from the get-go that Wood can write. Her word smithery is smooth and original. However, there is so much sexual content that I can’t enjoy the story or bond with the main characters. Partner swapping; threesomes. I finally gave myself permission to skim the rest. Unlike some other reviewers, I have no difficulty with the ending; it’s getting there that makes me queasy.

For some readers, the steamy segments of this novel will make it more pleasurable, but the only perspective from which I can write is my own.

Recommended to those that like a sexy novel of suspense.

This American Woman, by Zarna Garg*****

Zarna Garg is an immigrant, born and raised in India. She was rich, except for when she was poor; more on that in a minute. Ultimately, she came here for the same reason many people do: she had to make a break for it.

My thanks go to Random House and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review. This book is available to the public now.

Garg works now as a stand up comic, but she has done many things, and worn many hats. First, of course, she was a runaway bride, more or less, bailing from India before her very wealthy father could marry her off as part of a business arrangement.

“If I hadn’t done that, right now I would be a Mumbai grandma in an arranged marriage to a much older, boring industrialist. I would be draped in brocade silk saris, but I would have a giant padlock on my big mouth.”

Garg’s immigration—fast and sneaky, which was the only possible way–was made easier by her older sister, who was already living in Ohio. Since then, Garg has finished law school and passed the bar, married another Indian immigrant, had three children, and done a number of other impressive things, but it was her own daughter that asked her mother whether she’d ever considered a career in comedy. It takes someone that’s mentally tough to succeed in that realm, but the streets of Mumbai, where she’d lived hand-to-mouth for two years as a runaway teen following her mother’s death, prepared her well, so she was ready for the gritty world she was entering. She explains,   

            “…I had played a show at a club on the Upper East Side and a cockroach fell on my head. The night before that, as I walked to the stage I had to step over a communal puddle of throw up from a bachelorette part who refused to leave. They just kept throwing up and laughing. So far my comedy career had been physically revolting—but it was still my dream! Now here I was in my very first New York City green room that smelled like air…I walked out on stage. Two thousand white ladies politely applauded. Oh my god. What was I doing? Would this audience even understand my humor? For them India is incense and chanting. Were they ready for a foul-mouthed real-life Indian auntie who hated meditation? “

I wondered, after watching some of Garg’s stand up work online, whether the book would be a duplication of her routine, more or less; it’s happened with other comic authors. But although there’s a small smattering of shared content, the memoir is mostly unique, and I never had the sense that I’d already seen this before.

Garg is funny enough that I’ve let her speak for herself here. Anyone that needs to laugh hard, and that enjoys reading about the disorientation and culture shock experienced by those new to America should read this book. Highly recommended!