A Book A Week

"In the end, the courage of women can't be stamped out. And stories--the big ones, the true ones--can be caught but never killed."

Ronan Farrow's article in the New Yorker caused quite the stir when it was published in 2017. He was writing about the sexual misconduct of Harvey Weinstein, one of the most powerful producers in Hollywood. The ramifications of the allegations highlighted in his writing would go on to spur the Me Too movement, a call to arms against sexual harassment and abuse by powerful men. Of course, the road to getting that article published was far from easy. Someone like Weinstein had the motivation and means to keep his skeletons tightly packed away in his closet. In his book Catch and Kill, Farrow writes about his investigation into sexual transgressions of some of the world's most prominent men and the systems that protect them.

If I didn't know that everything Farrow writes about in this book actually happened, I'd probably have mistaken it for fiction. There's so much to Weinstein's attempts at a cover-up that seems like something directly out of an espionage thriller. As Farrow meticulously worked to vet sources, interview women, and piece together the decades of abuse and retaliation he faced roadblocks at every step. I was shocked to learn that Weinstein hired an Israeli counter-intelligence service to investigate Farrow and even follow him around New York. Would an innocent man go to such lengths to stop a story from happening?

Beyond covering Weinstein's heinous crimes, Farrow spends a good deal of the book describing the systems of power and big corporations that have prevented stories like his from surfacing. He experienced the attempts at censorship firsthand. At the time that he began investigating Weinstein, Farrow was a correspondent for NBC. He took the story to their news division and began the process of taping interviews with women. Andy Lack, head of the news division at the time, was wary of the story from the start, even claiming that there was not a story there when the evidence was overwhelming. Farrow had multiple women agree to tell their story on camera and one the record, but the higher-ups at NBC refused to bring the story to air. Eventually, he was allowed to shop the story elsewhere, and it landed at The New Yorker.

With the outing of NBC's Matt Lauer as another perpetrator of sexual misconduct in the workplace, it seems the company would have benefited from keeping the microscope of this kind of story quiet. Farrow writes a detailed account of a rape committed by Lauer that NBC was made aware of back in 2014. It is worth noting that Lauer was not fired from his role as anchor of the network's juggernaut morning program until 2017. It is easy to imagine that his tenure with the company would have continued to be protected if Farrow's article and the Me Too movement had not begun.

Catch and Kill is a thorough and riveting look into Ronan Farrow's investigation into Harvey Weinstein and the events that followed. Farrow is extremely candid about his own history with sexual misconduct (his sister Dylan has long spoken about the abuse she suffered under her adoptive father Woody Allen) and his dedication to being a voice for the countless women who have faced this all too common treatment. His book finds the perfect balance of keeping a journalistic approach to the facts of the events while interspersing a few personal anecdotes. Some of the most powerful parts are those where Farrow quotes the women and Weinstein verbatim. We see the harrowing toll that the sexual abuse has taken on the victims and the disgusting entitlement with which these powerful men felt they could keep things quiet. Three years after his initial article was published, Farrow continues to shed light on more and more stories like this one, and the number of prominent men that have perpetrated this abhorrent behavior continues to grow. Catch and Kill is a powerful look at some of the events that helped spark a movement. It is an uncomfortable but extremely necessary read.

For more information visit Amazon and Goodreads.
(2019, 42)

"When you reminisce about the good ole' days, you naturally see it through rose-tinted spectacles. In my case in particular I think it's forgivable because I was probably literally wearing rose-tinted spectacles at the time."

With Pride month now in full swing, I'm happy to showcase a few books that either feature LGBTQ+ characters or are written by LGBTQ+ authors. Elton John's autobiography Me certainly fits the bill. John has been out and proud for the majority of his decades-long career. The film Rocketman showcased his life story albeit with a tendency to lean more toward the side of fantasy than reality.  Taron Egerton, who played John in the film, narrated the audiobook version that I listened to. Me finds the famed singer at his most candid, reflecting on his remarkable life, career, and the things to come.

Born Reginald Dwight, Elton John started from very humble beginnings. He was a quiet and shy child who easily faded into the background, a far cry from the flamboyant superstar he would one day become. He took to the piano at a young age, naturally picking out tunes by ear. Eventually, his family allowed him to begin lessons, and he proved to be a natural. He jokingly blames his short, stubby fingers for being the reason he couldn't have a career as a classical musician, but his own stint at London's Royal Academy of Music would beg to differ. John's musical passions were with the up and coming rock and roll music that he could hear on the streets. He joined bands and found moderate success playing and touring. It wasn't until a rejection from a music label that he found his big break. As part of the rejection, the music executive gifted John an envelope of lyrics written by Bernie Taupin. This fateful act would inspire the fruitful collaboration that would soon skyrocket Elton John to superstardom.

Once Elton John comes into his place of fame and fortune, the story gets really wild. He holds no bars in describing the years of literal sex, drugs, and rock and roll. John candidly describes his struggle with addiction and the impact it had on his personal and professional life. He reminisces about his drug-fueled tantrums and benders that left him near death on multiple occasions. John also reflects on the struggle of coming to terms with his homosexuality, a battle that even saw him in an unhappy marriage to a woman for some time. Ultimately, dealing with his drug addiction and accepting his sexuality were the keys to bringing Elton John to the place he is today, happily married, and a father to two young children. In the end, this book, he writes, is meant to be a record for those kids, a kind of definitive resource to cut through all the gossip and celebrity surrounding his life.

I've always had a fondness for Elton John and his music. I've played piano for most of my life and spent many nights playing his tunes at piano bars during my college years. Yes, John emits a larger than life persona and has his fair share of demons, but he has always been willing to own up to them. As a result, Me is a pretty thorough and forthright autobiography. It reads more like stories shared between old friends at a party than a traditional memoir. This conversational style gives the book a lightness that makes for easy reading, especially when John touches on the darker points in his life.  At the heart of this life story is the journey of a man facing his demons and rockstar sense of entitlement.  In the end, he has transformed his life into one of giving back and really trying to make a difference in the world. John's early and continued support of AIDS research and treatment,  both through raising awareness and financial support, has been a large part of his latest act. As he ends his touring career (yes, he says this is really the end) and settles into being a more hands-on father, I look forward to seeing where his life will take him next.

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
(2019, 41)

"Sometimes you just jump and hope it's not a cliff."

I'm very late to the party with this one. I've seen Red, White & Royal Blue shared by countless other bloggers and reviewers over the last year or so. I actually listened to this one with my boyfriend as we drove from Texas to California last summer. A month before, we spent several weeks touring London and the surrounding area with his family. When we returned from our trip, we longed to relive our time there. A friend recommended this one to me, and a gay romantic comedy that just so happened to feature a member of the royal family seemed like the perfect way to spend the next three days traveling halfway across the country.

Alex's life is far from normal. His mother is currently serving as the President of the United States, making Alex first son. His life is scrutinized by the press almost as much as by his mother and her team. She is mounting her reelection campaign, so her family must maintain their pristine image. Naturally, Alex puts all of this into jeopardy when he attends a royal wedding. He gets into a very public and very hostile situation with none other than Henry, Prince of England. The two have never been more than cordial to each other, but this instance pushes things over the edge. The geopolitical ramifications of their sparring force the two countries to formulate a plan for redeeming their image. For better or worse, Alex and Henry must put aside their differences and play nice for the cameras.

At first, their meticulously planned play dates are excruciating. Both Alex and Henry completely loathe each other. Spending time together, even if it is for the better of their respective countries, is unbearable. But soon, the hard shell of their rivalry begins to deteriorate. It turns out that being the children of high-profile world leaders is a unique experience that they can both relate too. Plus, there is an undeniable physical attraction between the two. Alex slowly begins to question his own sexuality. He's always dated girls, but there's something about Henry that he just can't shake. Maybe he's bisexual?

"Straight people, he thinks, probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves they're straight."

As their rivalry gives way to romance, Alex and Henry begin to grapple with what their relationship will mean for them personally, their families, and their countries. Alex obviously doesn't want his sexuality to become firing power for his mother's political adversaries, especially during a contentious presidential campaign. Henry is wrestling with the obligation of tradition that has spanned the history of his royal family. A prince marries a princess. There's not really any gray area there. So the battle wages on two fronts. They must deal with the normal growing pains of a new relationship, understanding each other's flaws and intricacies, while also managing the impending global fallout of their relationship becoming public.

I don't normally read romance novels, but there is something about Red, White & Royal Blue that just sucked me in completely. Casey McQuiston imbues this rival to romance story with the kind of heart and reality that just rang completely true to me. Yes, the situation itself may seem a little bit outrageous (I mean, what are the odds?), but she grounds the entire novel in a sense of reality that is undeniable. McQuiston takes her time building the romance, allowing her characters to grow and change in a way that made the characters all the more relatable. Alex coming to terms with his own sexuality, in particular, was portrayed in such a thoughtful and genuine way. Beyond the two main characters, McQuiston inhabits her story with a supporting cast that is equally fleshed out, bringing a further sense of reality to the narrative. As much care and detail are provided for Alex and Henry's physical relationship as their emotional one. This is the kind of representation that is vital in literature today, and I was very pleased to see it play out in such an honest and respectful way. Red, White, & Royal Blue was an absolute joy from start to finish, and I highly recommend it as a must-read.

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
(2019, 40)

Working from my backlog again this week, I turn to The Nanny by Gilly Macmillan. I read a lot of thrillers and mysteries, so naturally there are countless authors who I have yet to encounter. Macmillan is one such author. I've been aware of her books for several years now, but I've never gotten to an opportunity to read one of her books. Enter The Nanny. I jumped at the chance to review this one when the publisher offered me a copy late last year. I devoured the novel in a few short sittings, and then, as is too often the case, it sat on my list of books to write a review for. At the start of this year, I vowed to work through that list of last year's reads, and have done a pretty good job of working my way through it. So without further ado, here are some thoughts on The Nanny. 

As is popular in many modern thrillers, The Nanny unfolds through alternating time periods, shifting between the past and present. I usually have a mixed reaction to this technique. Frankly, the shifting time periods can often muddy the clarity of the narrative and make it hard to follow along. That is not the case with this one at all. Macmillan effortlessly manages to keep the two time periods distinct while slowly driving them toward a very satisfying conclusion. If you are going to employ a common technique, you better do it well. Macmillan masterfully weaves together both of her narrative threads.

The novel focuses on the wealthy Holt family. Thirty years ago, Mr. and Mrs. Holt hired a nanny named Hannah to look after their daughter Jo. Jo's mother has always been more concerned with maintaining the family's high societal position than fostering a strong relationship with her daughter. While Lady Virginia Holt meticulously tended to the Holt estate, a strong, mother-daughter like bond formed between Hannah and Jo. Then one day everything changed. Hannah went missing out of the blue. Jo was beside herself, longing to continue the warm relationship she had with her nanny. Lady Virginia told Jo that she was the reason for Hannah's sudden departure. Jo's bad behavior became too much for the nanny to bear and drove her away.

In the present day, Jo and her young daughter Ruby are abandoning their life in California and returning to her childhood home in the English countryside. The sudden loss of Jo's husband precipitated the need for this sudden change. Jo and Virginia have been estranged for years, but they are the only family each other has left. Nothing brings a family together like a tragedy. As Jo and Ruby begin to settle into their new life, they decide to take a rowboat to the island in the middle of the small lake that rests behind the Holt estate. On the island, Ruby makes a startling discovery, the remains of what can only be a human skull.

The Nanny by Gilly Macmillan mixes family drama and childhood trauma with a modern-day thriller, the kind that will have you devouring the book in only a few sittings. I've already mentioned that the alternating timelines work well in this one. They truly add to the suspense as the revelations of the past begin to impact the motivations of the present-day character. The story in this one unfolds pretty much as I expected it to. I'm not sure if that has more to do with the story itself of just the pure amount of thrillers that I read these days. Still, there weren't any real shocks or twists that I didn't see coming in advance. That being said, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glued to this book. Each of the characters are well-written, the kind of characters that have enough emotional depth and complexity to sustain this otherwise straightforward narrative. Macmillan writes of a family drama that is relatable and increasingly engaging as the novel progresses. The Nanny is a solid thriller with the kind of flawed and believable characters that I love reading about. I'll be eager to read more from Macmillan soon.

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
(2019, 39)

Last year I stumbled upon Just One Bite by Jack Heath. That story about a cannibal turned FBI investigator was one of the most inventive and downright fun thrillers I read all year. It found a way to make me root for its serial killer with a strange moral compass Timothy Blake. Think a cross between Dexter and Hannibal Lecter and you'd have Blake. Add to it the fact that the mystery was downright addictive, and you have yourself the kind of page-turner that requires copious amounts of coffee and very little sleep! It wasn't until I finished the book that I realized it was actually a sequel. Never one to shy away from reading yet another book, I quickly added the original novel to my TBR list, and here we are today.

Hangman is an origin story of sorts. We learn of Blake's abusive childhood and how he came into some trouble with the law. Despite his troubles, Blake is super smart and has a photographic memory. A mind like that is a terrible thing to waste, so the authorities offer him a unique arrangement, one that will satisfy his mental curiosity and a primal hunger that he simply can't ignore. They put Blake to work as a consultant for the FBI. He mostly helps solve missing person cases. In exchange, he gets his pick of the freshly executed criminals from Huntsville Prison's death row.

When a 14-year-old kid disappears, Blake is brought in to investigate. He is used to working alone. I guess even the FBI is a bit wary of someone who eats people. But this case is different. He is paired with agent Reese Thistle, a take-no-prisoners kind of woman who is immediately bitter at the idea of working with a civilian. Blake isn't very enthused either. His hunger can overtake his better judgment sometimes, and the temptation sitting next to him is not going to help matters. Things in the case escalate in the twisted way you'd expect from a book like this. The two unlikely partners will have to rely on each other and deal with their own personal demons if they want to make it out of this alive.

Hangman is another great read from Jack Heath. After loving the sequel so much, I was worried that this first novel might not deliver the same thrill. I'm so happy that I was wrong! Take away the richly complex character for a moment, and let's talk about that plot. Heath has the ability to weave the twists and suspense like none other. I was glued to the story from start to finish. In Timothy Blake, Heath crafts a character that is reprehensible but also endearing. Yes, he eats people, but he's also this layered human who is dealing with the traumas of his past while also trying to better himself and the lives of the people he investigates. If you're going to root for a cannibal, you could do a lot worse than Timothy Blake. It should be a given that the subject matter might be difficult for some people to read, so if you're squeamish this might not be the one for you. I can't say enough great things about this book or this series. I really hope Heath is working on a third.

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
(2019, 38)

While I certainly wish I could be going to work and going about my life as normal, I do enjoy some of the perks of staying at home. At the start of the year, I resolved to work through a backlog of reviews from the year previous. Like most good-intentioned resolutions, this one quickly fell to the wayside. Lucky for me, I've been gifted a rare second chance to make good on that goal. I'm still maintaining my 2020 goal of reading and reviewing at least one book a week, but I now have a bit of extra time to devote to some of the books that I didn't get to feature in 2019. The first backlogged review couldn't be more timely.

In Cold Storage, author David Koepp writes of the attempted containment of a highly mutative organism that, if left unchecked, has the potential to take over the earth. This thing is nothing to mess with. The novel opens with a Pentagon official Roberto Diaz investigating what is believed to be some sort of bioterrorism attack. What he discovers is the thing nightmares are made of. No, this isn't a monster or an evil terrorist. In a world that is facing the realities of a novel virus, the threat of this little fungal organism seems even more devastating. One touch of this organism and you're done for. Diaz wastes no time containing the fungus and burying it deep in an underground Kansas facility.

Decades later, the front desk attendant at a self-storage facility notices the faint beeping of some kind of alarm. None of the controls within the facility point to anything out of the ordinary, but the alarm persists. Miles away, Roberto Diaz is called out of retirement to investigate an urgent matter that only he can address. Somehow the alarm that is alerting the US government and the minimal wage storage unit are one and the same. That deadly parasitic fungus has sat 300 feet below what has now become a storage facility, forgotten by time and the complicated web of government bureaucracy. After all these years something has changed. It will take the unlikely heroes of storage facility employees and long-retired government agents to stop what could potentially be the most catastrophic breach in human history.

David Koepp is probably best known for being the screenwriter for blockbuster films like Jurassic Park, Spider-Man, and Mission Impossible. It should come as no surprise then that Cold Storage is an action-packed novel that is easily read in one breathless sitting. There are obvious echos of the literary style of Michael Crichton, all very welcome in this case. I would argue that Koepp takes a bit more liberty for the sake of action and pace, leaving believability behind. Still, there's no denying this is a page-turner. Cold Storage doesn't have much in terms of character development. The protagonists all fall into neat little tropes that are serviceable to the story, but a bit predictable. In fact, some of the most convincing character work is actually for the parasitic fungus itself. There's one deliciously devilish description in particular written from the perspective of our fungal villain as it spreads into its unsuspecting victim. Overall, Cold Storage is a diversional "outbreak type" thriller that never truly rises beyond its inventive opening. This may be one case where a movie version penned by Koepp might be more successful.

For more information visit Amazon and Goodreads.
(2019, 37)