fresh starts | Seattle Book Mama

Author Daniel Mason is on a roll. He’s won nearly every possible literary award and accolade; my first encounter with his writing was with his last book, North Woods, which is complex, brilliantly crafted, and droll. But I may have had even more fun reading his latest novel, Country People, which is less intricate, easier to read, and even funnier than the last.

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

The story opens with several well-chosen quotes, and the main narrative begins like a fairy tale. We have the wife, the husband, a son and a daughter. We also have the dog; we are told its name, Giuseppe, before we see anyone else’s. And although the wife is mentioned first—perhaps because she is the breadwinner—the protagonist here is actually Miles, the husband.

Miles is in a rut. He’s been working on his dissertation for fourteen years, although “working” is a euphemism for uh, not. He is easily distracted; he has no real idea what he wants to write about. And because he is the house husband, it is his job to look after the children, who are distractions unto themselves. So, while everyone is told that Miles is working on it, Miles isn’t. He is frustrated by his own lack of progress, and feels more and more dwarfed by his wife, a full professor with many admirers. And because of her admirable achievements, they are currently in the car, leaving California headed to Vermont, where she has been offered a one year visiting professorship.

And so our story is of the family’s experiences in Vermont, and their introduction to New England weather and smalltown life. In the hands of a less capable author, this might be a blah story, but luckily for us, it’s Mason’s story, and it’s massively entertaining!

They learn to ski, sort of. And while Kate is caught up in her professional obligations, Miles meets the more eccentric townsfolk and is invited to join their secret organization. As things progress, Miles has the occasional second thought about his new friends:

“It was all very mysterious, and to be honest, even a little sinister. One didn’t have to be getting a Ph.D. in literature to recognize the outlines of the story: the innocent city person, on what sems to be an innocuous foray among simple country people, happens upon a dark conspiracy, with predictably horrific consequences. We’ve read the book, we’ve seen the movie. If the hero escapes, it is only after some gory climax, stumbling out into the night to stare, blood-bespattered, into the high beams of the state police. Not for me! thought Miles.”

That’s a small sample. You’ll have to get the book to experience the rest. As for me, I had a fine time reading it, and was wistful when it ended. Highly recommended.

Mad Honey is the joint endeavor of bestselling author Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan. My thanks go to Net Galley and Random House Ballantine for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now, and I recommend it to you.

The hallmarks of Picoult’s work are immediately evident. She frames her story around a particular area of interest, and so when one of our main characters, Olivia, is a bee keeper, I figure I am in for an education with regard to bees and honey; I am not wrong. Of late, Picoult has also used some of her fiction to promote social justice causes, and that’s here, too; I did a quick search on Boylan, her co-author, and learned that Boylan is one of the first transgendered Americans to write a bestseller, and this is the other focal part of Mad Honey, which features a trans character.

We have Olivia, then, the bee keeper, and her son, Asher, who is the light of her life. She took Asher and fled an abusive marriage, and enjoys her new life. She is close to Asher, and they talk openly and often; yet, there are things that Asher isn’t telling his mother, and she doesn’t see that.

Then there’s a new girl in town, Lily Campanello, a cellist, and Asher falls for her. Later, Lily is found dead, and suspicion falls on Asher. Olivia stands behind her son, and yet a corner of her mind has doubts. What if, when push comes to shove, Asher is his father’s son after all?

It’s tricky to write fiction that focuses on a controversial topic, and the critical ingredient is characterization. If the characters feel real to us, the story flows and the message becomes an integral part of their lives. We can’t reject the theme without rejecting the character. But it would take a true Grinch to step away from Olivia, Asher, and Lily. I want what’s best for the characters, and so I’m not focused on the authors and what they have chosen to discuss within this framework, but on the story. The writing flows like melted butter, smooth and inviting, and later, the suspense ratchets up almost unbearably, and I have to know what becomes of Olivia and Asher.

Because I am a bit behind, I check out the audio version of this novel at Seattle Bibliocommons. There are multiple narrators, but the one that resonates most for me is the reader voicing Lily. I say this, despite the fact that she butchers the pronunciation of place names in the Pacific Northwest. Eugene, Oregon is not hard to say. Siuslaw and Willamette are trickier, but there’s only one pronunciation for each, and the reader should have done due diligence.

And now that I’ve said this, I can urge you to get this book and read it. For those unfamiliar with trans people, there’s some good information, and the story is a compelling one. There’s a twist at the end, and I would probably have left that out, as it doesn’t add much, although I can also see the reason it is included. Nevertheless, this is a story worth your time and money, whether as an audiobook or in print.