Middle Sister Mid-Month Review: Kilt at the Highland Games

Kilt at the Highlad Games by Kaitlyn Dunnett  The latest in the Liss MacCrimmon mystery series, set in a small town in Maine. Liss is a former dancer who now runs a store dedicated to all things Scottish. In this entry, the local bookstore owner and her family disappear, and Liss and the other residents of Moosetookalook (yes, you read that correctly, that's the name of the town) are puzzled and upset, but don't start really worrying until local realtor Jason Graye is murdered. Liss and PI Murch weave the disparate threads of an arson, the disappearance, murder, attempted murder, and other strange happenings into a tartan of coincidence. I've always been torn by this series: I like the setting a lot, I like a small town full of quirky characters, I like how the point of view shifts from one main character to another. But the mysteries always leave me disappointed and this one did, too. Without giving too much away, one of the "other strange happenings" is a break-in at the realtor's office, when, in reality, the information that was being sought via the B&E is easily accessible online on any realtor's webpage. And these books clearly take place now; Liss even comments that most of her sales are online. This incidence read to me as "oops, need another mysterious happening, so let's throw in a break in/murder/attempted murder here." It's a glaring weak link that unfortunately is central to tying all the crimes together. There are other weak links and I don't want to spoil this too much, but let's just say that I think there is room for improvement in the series mysterious quotient, but the framework is enjoyable enough that I read this series despite the weak links.

Middle Sister Mid-Month Review: Die Like an Eagle by Donna Andrews

Die Like an Eagle by Donna Andrews  Donna Andrews' Meg Langslow series is well known for its zany characters, zany situations, and laugh-out-loud zaniness. Yes, that's a lot of zany, but truly, the earlier entries in the series were hilariously funny and chock full of quirky characters. This latest book seems to have lost Andrews' zany touch. Meg is now happily married and the mother of twins, and I'm not sure if it's this domestic tranquility that has sapped the series of its charming eccentricity. Don't get me wrong, even a bad Donna Andrews (which this is not) is far better than your average cosy mystery, but I didn't laugh out loud once during this book. I spent time wracking my brain to remember if there had been an inkling in earlier stories that Meg's whole family loved baseball, and what, if anything, had been on the farm where there was now a baseball diamond. The whodunnit was a minor surprise, and the setting and characters remain consistent with what has come before. I am left wondering exactly how many cousins Meg has. The lack of laughter makes this one of the weaker entires in the series for me, but I would still recommend it. (NetGalley)

Middle Sister's July Reads

Three out of five books were successes this month--not a great month for escapist summertime reading.

The Wrong Box by Robert Louis Stevenson The month started off with a bang. The current selection by my 19th century literature book group can only be described as a Victorian-era screwball comedy. Those are not four words one normally associates with each other. Stevenson wrote this with his stepson, and I do not know which author contributed the madcap comedy, but it's hard to believe this was written by the same author of Treasure Island. There are similarities between the two: good pacing throughout the novel, interesting and unusual and sympathetic characters, surprise twists. But Stevenson surprised me with a genuinely likable and strong, albeit minor, female character (she's got the brains), and managed to make the reader forget all about the unlikely coincidences that move the story along because they were laughing too much. Recommended (Kindle)

Yellowthread Street by William Marshall Police procedurals generally aren't my cup of tea, but I decided a change of pace this summer would be welcome, and the reissue of this 1988 novel in ebook format worked perfectly. Yellowthread Street had the perfect blend of police grit, zany minor characters, and strong characters that make an ensemble story work. The tory successfully veered from understated gore while the Manchurian was being hunted to the understated poignancy of Harry Feiffer's wife's telephone conversation, all wrapped up in an exotic setting--pre-unification Hong Kong. I read this in two nights because I couldn't put it down. Recommended (NetGalley)

A Very Vintage Christmas by Bob Richter Christmas in July? Why not? This unusual history of Christmas decorations was liberally punctuated with the author's reminiscence's about past Christmas celebrations and his own hobby of collecting Christmas ornaments. I just wish the Kindle ARC had better graphics, as at least half of the photos were not visible. If you love Christmas, or are beginning your own Christmas ornament collection, you'll enjoy this breezy read. After all, every one of us who decorates for the holidays is a Christmas ornament collector. (NetGalley).

I guess I have read too many genre mysteries and too many ARCs now. I find I have lost my patience with stories that don't capture my attention. And if they capture it for the wrong reasons...

An Untimely Frost by Penny Richards This book had a couple of elements going for it that intrigued me: it's a historical mystery, centered on a woman who joins the (real life) Pinkerton Agency. But I barely made it past the first four chapter. In Chapter 1, Lilly is urged to divorce her philandering husband. In Victorian American society, this was still highly scandalous, and even though Lilly is an actress, it would have been socially unacceptable. And then Lilly is convincing herself that she can join the Pinkertons because she has been taught by her acting  mentor everything from "agriculture to zombies." Zombies? Victorian society had never even heard of zombies. I've read plenty of Victorian literature, published in the US and UK, and have never read that word in a book actually published in the year the story takes place. So I looked it up; the first book to popularize zombies was published in 1929, 50 years after this story takes place. So I gave the book up. If it had been steam punk lit, I'd have persisted. But I am tired of authors who think that readers want a 21st century story with 21st century characters speaking like 21st television stars, wearing costumes.  Not finished and not recommended. (NetGalley)

A Child's Garden of Death by Richard Forrest Again, a promising abstract: English professor helps police chief friend solve strange murder. The discovery of the burial of three people in a small pit far from any residential or commercial development that appears to date to thirty years ago--promising. The setting was Connecticut--promising. Because many ebooks don't list the originally publication date, it took clues in the text and some online research to discover the book was originally published in 1975. There were elements of the story that just dated it too much for a modern reader: the references to the main characters meeting during the Korean War; Lyon's (yes, the main character is named Lyon) hot air balloon ride to take photos of the crime scene (twenty-something readers will not realize drones didn't exist then; thirty-something readers will wonder why he didn't use a glider instead). But I started hating the book when the medical examiner identified the seven-year-old victim as a girl. You CANNOT identify the sex of children from their skeletons. The secondary sex characteristics osteologists use to identify the sex of a skeleton don't appear until adulthood. Osteologists and forensic anthropologists call these subadults for a reason. The child was buried with a doll; wouldn't it have been better plot point for the police chief to assume it was a girl from this and then be surprised when it turned out to be a boy? I'm assuming the identities of the victims was eventually discovered. I stopped reading the book shortly after this. We've known for a very long this simple fact and even in 1975, a quick glance at an anatomy book or an encyclopedia would have told the author that identifying a 7-year-old as a girl or boy would have been impossible. The constant interruption for dream sequences, with no indications in the text or formatting to indicate we'd switched from action to dream, was extremely annoying, too. Not recommended. (NetGalley)

Middle Sister's June Reads

You might think I haven't been reading much this past June, but I am in the middle of a thick non-fiction book I'll review next month. I did manage to take a few breathers with some cozy mysteries:

Final Fondue by Maya Corrigan Val Deniston has had to start her life over again on the Eastern Shore of Maryland after an unpleasant encounter cost her her job. She's moved in with her grandfather and is running the cafe at a local athletic club. Her new hometown hosts a festival every year and Val convinces her grandfather to rent his spare bedrooms to tourists to earn some money. Naturally, one of the renters ends up murdered in Granddad's backyard. I loved the setting, as this is one of my most favorite parts of the country, but I was a bit more ambivalent about Val. I think her interactions with her new boyfriend colored my opinion of her. But Granddad is adorable and I hope we see more of him. There was plenty of evidence that the book needed editing: bridesmaid's parties are called hen parties in England, but I'm from New Jersey; we don't use that term in the mid-atlantic or anywhere else in the US. Granddad is happy Val will be staying with her cousin and out of danger, but Val seems to be unconcerned with his safety, sleeping in the house with a murderer (and basically says so, twice). The police chief told her, twice, not to talk about the murder, so what does Val do straightaway? Tells her cousin all about it. Okay, this isn't an editing complaint, it's a character complaint, but it's symbolic of many of the little things that bothered me about Val. Big editing mistake: a supposedly high-powered New York City chef threatens Val that he will send a photo of her cafe "to Monsieur Michelin" so she can get a star. Umm, there is no Monsieur, just a publishing house that reviews restaurants. We know he's obnoxious, but this is not a threat to a chef and cookbook publicist nor a joke a high-powered chef would make; wouldn't both know what Michelin ratings are. Doesn't the author? Who gets severance pay when fired, Gunnar? You get that when you're laid off. And what amateur-trying-to-be-a-professional wedding photographer owns face-recognition software? Too many niggling things like this ruined my enjoyment of the book, so I'll conclude this by saying there are some potentially interesting characters (although Gunnar and Val both need to grow up), a lovely setting, and with some tighter editing and better character and mystery development, this could be a nice series. (NetGalley)

Murder Has Nine Lives by Laura Levine Laura Levine's Jaine Austen series is reliably laugh-out loud funny, and this entry in the misadventures of Jaine doesn't disappoint. Jaine's latest mystery centers on a cat-food commercial for which Jaine's cat Prozac has been hired. The cat food producer is murdered, and Jaine gets involved. Her bumbling detective work is punctuated by hilarious dates with a man who's not what he seems, her attempts to write the copy for Toiletmasters revolutionary new toilet, and her parents' emails re: the Big Scrabble Tournament and an Alex Tribek sighting. There's a little bit of Jaine and her zany folks in all of us. Granted, I'd figured out the whodunnit halfway through but that in no way affected my enjoyment of the book, and that is the hallmark of a fine mystery writer, when the reader doesn't even mind having figured out the murderer because the story is so much fun. Enjoy Jaine's latest misadventure with a cocktail and some ice cream.

New Mug From Big Sister

A present from Big Sister. It's almost perfect for the blog.

Middle Sister Mid-Month Review: The Man Who Built the Sierra Club

The Man Who Built the Sierra Club by Robert Wyss (Columbia University Press, June 2016)

The book is a lengthy and meticulously meticulously researched biography of David Brower of the Sierra Club. It is extensively footnoted, of which this nerdy scientist approves. I was particularly fascinated by the sometimes dry, extremely detailed play by play of the fight over Glen Canyon Dam, sitting, as I am, just a few hundred miles south of the dam, a fight that lingers and continues to impact modern water policy in the southwest. The discussion of Brewer's relationship with the great nature photographer Ansel Adams was also interesting, providing some insight in that creative genius' political and business side. As stated, sometimes dry, but with masterly command of the dozens of Sierra Club and government officials whose actions excited, infuriated, and sometimes angered Brower. His private life is summarized and certain issues not glossed over, but the overwhelming majority of the book is focused like a laser on the major environmental battles Brower waged (Glen Canyon Dam and Diablo Canyon among them, with others very familiar to residents of the West). Recommended to nature lovers, environmentalists, and others interested in the intersection of public policy and the environment.

Middle Sister's May Reads

May was a good month, not because I read a lot, but because I finally finished a book group selection that I started in January. January! I will freely admit that I just passed over the 400-page March/April selection and have no intention of starting it. Call me Rebel Middle.

Picture Miss Seeton by Heron Carvic I first encountered Miss Seeton back in the 1980s, when I worked in a bookstore. I read every one, and I think the paperbacks may be moldering somewhere in my mother's house. Imagine my delight to learn that a publisher is reissuing these as digital books. Hooray! So I started with the first, in which we meet Miss Seeton and become quite fond of her. The Battling Brolly is her nickname, and as much as I'd like to grow up to be Miss Marple, I think a crossover between Miss Seeton and Mrs.Pollifax is more illustrative of the old lady I'd be. Cosy mystery lovers will welcome discovering this elderly female detective and her English fictional world. Very recommended. NetGalley

The Marble Faun by Nathaniel Hawthorne This is the two-volume book it took me 5 months to read. Partly because it was so long and partly because long stretches of it were so boring. I don't remember The Scarlet Letter being this obtusely verbose. Maybe Hawthorne was paid by the word? I read that he wanted this to be his gothic novel, and while there are certainly gothic elements, it falls far, far short of the subgenre in terms of plotting, characters, even setting. Just be grateful this is not the Hawthorne assigned as school reading. Not recommended, and I hope his ghost doesn't haunt me for that opinion.

The Lunatic at Large by J. Storer Clouston This was the May/June book club selection, and it was a nice palate cleanser after The Marble Faun. I had never heard of Clouston, but apparently his novels were very popular during Victorian times (at least, so says the Interwebz). I enjoyed the sly humor, the ridiculousness of some of the lunatic's escapades, but still wonder at how he managed to be deemed a lunatic in the first place (which takes place before the novel begins). Trick ending that I admit I was too naive to see coming (my only excuse was I was still clambering my way out of the sinkhole that was The Marble Faun and should have given this more attention). Recommended for those that think all Victorian literature was Dickensian in style and substance.

Murder Under the Covered Bridge by Elizabeth Perona Cute concept, although it seems a bit after the trendy mark, to have a bunch of senior women staging photo shoots to create their own sexy seniors calendar (a point that one of the characters makes herself). I am reaching a certain age myself, and I like spunky older female detectives. I experienced some confusion early on keeping all the women separate; only a few had, to me, really distinguishing patterns of speech or some characteristic repeatedly commented on by the author (one walked very slowly) to allow me to recognize her when she was named. My biggest problem is that we are told right away our spunky seniors are recreating the illicit one-night romantic stand of one of the women's ancestors, and then, as if it was a huge secret, we find out, many chapters later, that a child was the result. Well, yes, if her great-granddaughter was recreating her one night stand, then it's no secret there was a child (location 1709 vs. Chapter 1). What was unknown was what happened to the carriage driver, which makes the discovery of the diary and all the passages related to it pointless. Some of the women's inner thoughts and comments were, well, the only word is, stupid. "Was he [the shooter] waiting for them to bring the body up top so he could finish him off?" If the shooter was a sniper, she wouldn't have had this thought because they'd all be dead already. "For as remotely located as the bridge is there's almost no graffiti." Um, that remote location would explain why there is no graffiti, ladies. And they take evidence off the murder victim, the first diary. Ever heard of withholding evidence? "...she was descended from Mediterranean stock" [location 809] and "Hispanic-looking faces" [location 2453]--cringe worthy phrasing, and not just because of political correctness. I got tired of the repetition of the term Sixty List and the constant references to pop culture (Dr. Oz, really?). The final straw was stealing the key off the body of Belinda Flowers in the funeral home, which the author calls "taken off." Nope, call it what it is--stealing. And they are going to let Dolly be convicted of something she was duped into and hope that "God takes care of it?" Too many typos, too many inconsistencies, too many bad plot devices--not recommended. NetGalley

Horses of the Night by Geoffrey Aggeler I like historical mysteries, and I don't care if the protagonist is gay or bisexual, but I had to stop reading this after only a few chapters. There was a dramatic sword fight with some very atmospheric prose, but even that could not salvage my interest. I got tired of the main character talking about, referring to, judging every person he knew or met by whether he had/would/could/wanted to sleep with them. Frankly, I didn't like the character enough to care. Not recommended.  NetGalley