A Book A Week

How do you choose your next read? I'm typically a mood reader. I choose whichever book strikes my fancy at any given moment. This strategy helps me from getting burned out on reading, but it also means that some books that I've agreed to review for publishers have to wait until I'm in the right mindset to read them. Yerba Buena by Nina LaCour is one such casualty. I received an ebook and audiobook of the novel well before it was published in May, but the queer coming-of-age story wasn't what I wanted to read then. I've been more about a quick-paced plot as of late, so thrillers have been my go-to read for the last couple of weeks. Still, I've found that books in that genre just aren't giving me the character development that I can latch on to.  So here I am, in the perfect mood to read a book like Yerba Buena. 

Sara is looking for an escape. She finally felt like she could accept herself when her secret girlfriend was found dead. Either unwilling or unable to cope with that loss at such a young age, Sara did what any enterprising teenager would do. She ran away from home. In her attempt to put the traumas of her past behind her, she encountered new ordeals that would haunt her into her future. All this is to say that Sara carried a lot of baggage as she entered adulthood. Years later she found a kind of safe haven and peace with her job as a bartender at the trendy restaurant Yerba Buena. It is here that her path would collide with Emilie, changing the trajectory of her life forever. 

Emilie is feeling stuck. She's been in college for seven years, cycling through five different majors only to feel as if she still hasn't found her path in life. Low on time, patience, and money, she randomly takes up a job with a flower shop. Emilie finds refuge in the task of floral arrangement, a process that allows her creativity to flourish while also earning her some much-needed money. As her obvious talent reveals itself, she is entrusted with arranging bouquets for different clients. One of these clients just so happens to be the restaurant Yerba Buena. 

Yerba Buena sees successful YA author Nina LaCour successfully transition to a work geared more for adult audiences. There are still echoes of her writing for younger readers, especially in moments that show the main characters before they are adults. In this case, that works to LaCour's benefit, imbuing the young characters with an authenticity that I was immediately able to connect with. The novel is as complex as the people who inhabit it, a work that tackles topics of sexuality, coming of age, and family trauma through layered scenarios, time periods, and relationships. This is a slow burn of a read. LaCour allows her story to unfold at a natural pace, freeing her characters and their emotions to dictate what comes next. This means that the characters, not the plot, drive the momentum of the novel. It was a bit of an adjustment for this seasoned thriller reader, but I was ultimately happy to have this change of pace. Yerba Buena works as an expertly written romance and coming-of-age story that brims with a purity that is rarely found in character-driven works. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2021, 32)

The entirety of my reading last month was devoted to books written by and about members of the LGBTQ+ community. I was so encouraged to read stories that were as diverse as the people they represented. From sweet romantic comedies to searingly personal memoirs, each book provided a glimpse into the lives of their characters in a way that helps to normalize representation in publishing. One book, in particular, captured my attention not because it was particularly inspiring or happy, but because it was brutally honest about the realities of a relationship. I read Kristen Arnett's latest novel With Teeth a couple of weeks ago, but haven't been able to process my thoughts about it until now. 

As the novel begins, Sammie Lucas is still clinging to her dream of building a picture-perfect family. She works tirelessly with her wife Monika to raise their young son Sampson. Despite Sammie's desire to give her son the world, he just doesn't seem to have any connection with her. Monika thinks that Sammie is reading too much into Sampson's behavior, but that does little to shake the fear that she is raising a stranger. These fears are seemingly confirmed early on when Sampson willingly walks off with an unknown man as Sammie looks on with horror. Thankfully, she's able to intervene before any abduction can occur. Still, she couldn't help but notice the way her son smiled at the man as he walked away with him, an expression of happiness that she's rarely seen from the boy. 

That early incident serves as a foreboding glimpse at the tumultuous times to come. As Sampson grows and the years pass, Sammie's relationship with him only grows more distant. To her, there is obviously something off with her son, but numerous therapists, specialists, and even her own wife say the child is perfectly normal. To the outside world, her family is perfect. And isn't that what she always wanted anyway? Behind the facade of perfection, however, lies the truth. Sammie doesn't have the perfect child. Her son barely even talks to her. Worse, her relationship with Monika is slowly spiraling toward an inevitable end. In her quest for normalcy, Sammie is about to find out that normal involves imperfections. In this case, that might also mean the end of her life as she dreamed it. 

There's a moment in Stephen Sondheim's musical Into the Woods when Little Red Riding Hood is rescued from the clutches of the Big Bad Wolf after being seduced into trusting him by his kindness. She sings about learning her lesson and declares that "Nice is different than good." The characters in With Teeth go through a similar journey of discovery. As a lesbian couple, they are bound by the desire to be perceived as normal, just two perfect moms and their well-adjusted son. As their relationships unravel around them, they are faced with learning the lesson that normal is different than perfect. In fact, normal can be downright messy. The discovery of that sentiment is the true power of Arnett's writing. She doesn't shy away from the realities of everyday life. In fact, she revels in showing the disfunction that can come from people just trying to get through the day. With Teeth is a bold reminder that we are all just doing our best to meet the individual challenges we face. Perhaps imperfection then is the most normal thing of them all. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2021, 24)

A small resort town in northern Minnesota gets a shock when one of its guests, Erica McDill, is shot in the head during a kayaking outing. McDill is a prominent advertising executive, from the Twin Cities, whose death precedes a large transition in her company that would make her the largest stockholder.

Virgil Flowers is fishing with a friend when he receives a call from his boss, Lucas Davenport. With that, his vacation comes to an end and he makes his way to the scene of McDill's murder. You see, Virgil is an investigator for the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension (BCA) who only tackles "the hard stuff". He doesn't fit the investigator stereotypes. Rather, he keeps his blond hair long, wears t-shirts with logos of obscure bands, and finishes off the ensemble with blue jeans and boots. Despite his unusual appearance, Virgil is known for getting results.

The investigation takes an unusual turn when Virgil learns that the resort is an all women's establishment. His fears are confirmed when boot tracks, from an expensive women's shoe company, are discovered in the mud near the murder site. Quickly, Virgil is immersed into the small town and its lesbian subculture. With the possibility of past murders connecting to the death of McDill, and the ever growing threat of more violence, Virgil struggles to keep his own emotions in check as he searches for the mysterious killer.

I've been a fan of John Sandford's Virgil Flowers series since reading the first book, Dark of The Moon. There is something very appealing about Virgil's oddball behavior and fantastic instincts. As always, Sandford keeps his writing simple and accessible. More so than the previous novels, however, Rough Country felt a little slower and less important than the other two. The opening portion in particular seemed a bit overlong. How long can you really wander through the woods before losing your audience. Fortunately, just as I was wondering when the book would pick up, Sandford introduced a new thread to the mystery that propelled the novel to a solid ending. The plot of this story doesn't allow as much time to spend learning about this interesting character, but the mystery itself is strong enough to make Rough Country worth the read and to make me eager to continue this series.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2013: week 21, book 20)