July Reads - Part 1
A plot-driven travel adventure, an eccentric cast of characters, and some haunted woods that have seen it all. Plus, all the great craft moves to be learned.
This month I thought I’d introduce a new format for sharing about books. While it’s helpful to know what a book is about, it’s also helpful to know specifically what makes a book ring for its reader, and, if you’re a writer, what craft elements you might learn from it.
So, this month you’re getting all three.
While I don’t have a hard and fast rule for selecting what to read every month (I’m working to ignore the social-media-induced pressure of keeping up with every new release), I do try to strike a balance:
Something new-ish
Something on my backlist
Something that teaches craft
A classic I missed
Like others, I’m also a mood reader, which means I’m generally reading all four simultaneously and alternating between them depending on how I feel at a given moment. But because I’m away from home this month and don’t have 200 unread spines judging me from my bookshelf and begging for attention, I’ve been a little more disciplined, sticking to one book at a time.
Surprisingly, it’s helping me get through books faster. By sticking with just one book, I’ve eliminated the getting-to-know-you reintroduction period necessary after you’ve put down a book for too long.
So, here we go. A mid-month update because this is a month of big reading.
The Sicilian Inheritance by Jo Piazza
Sara is at rock bottom when she reads a letter penned by her recently deceased aunt. Her successful Philadelphia restaurant has run aground, leaving her unemployed and in debt. She’s muddling through a divorce from her less-than-supportive former partner, Jack. So it makes sense that she’d follow her Aunt Rosie’s instructions to go to Sicily and resolve a manifold family mystery: Whatever happened to Rosie’s mother (and Sara’s great-grandmother) Serafina? And does the family have rights to a small but valuable piece of land on the island?
What I loved: The dual POV kept me reading (and ignoring my family on vacation, but what’s new?). I was especially enamored by Serafina’s journey as a healer and unofficial doctor in her small village. It gave me pause to imagine how many immigrants have arrived in new countries with extraordinary, essential skills, only to find themselves discounted and undervalued. I also loved the feminist slant on Sicily’s history. I have such reverence for the women who took charge in their villages while the men were away, lending life-saving support to one another, and showing us how a society could and should function.
What I learned: Two common landmines in fiction writing are dragging plot and passive characters. Piazza’s writing is the antidote to both and a fantastic case study for writing action beats that escalate the stakes. I’m a huge fan of the craft book, Saves the Cat! Writes a Novel, and Piazza has mastered several of the chief elements emphasized in the book. Each chapter of THE SICILIAN INHERITANCE ends with a moment of tension or intrigue that sets the stage for the next chapter (though it’s told in alternating POVs and timelines). Most importantly, however, Piazza’s protagonist, Sara, is the lynchpin for the action in the story. She is not simply a passive actor to whom events are happening; her choices (sometimes questionable!) are what propel the story forward.
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt
Things I didn’t know before reading:
The book is non-fiction (more on that in a moment).
This NY Times record-setting bestseller is celebrating its 30th anniversary this year.
I was 11 years old when this book came out and too busy collecting Beanie Babies to be tuned into the hype surrounding it. But knowing it’s about Savannah, one of the most enchanting towns I’ve ever visited, it’s been on my radar for many years. Plus, it’s just a wicked good title.
With that said, I knew less than zero about the premise.
Turns out, it’s about a murder. At least, ostensibly. While the murder of lowlife, troubled Danny Hansford is at the heart of the narrative, it’s the cast of eccentric characters who breathe life into the story. There’s Joe Odom, a smooth-talking hustler who hosts daily tour groups in his squatted apartment. There’s Lady Chablis, a transgender woman and local performer who makes Berendt her personal chauffeur during his time in Savannah (fun fact: Chablis plays herself in the 1997 Clint Eastwood film!). And there’s Jim Williams, the wealthy, antique-dealing narcissist accused of Danny’s murder.
While reading, I kept turning to my mother, who was visiting with us, to say, “John Berendt must be some kind of genius. These characters are too rich and specific to make up!” Turns out, they weren’t… at least not entirely.
Like David Grann (of KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON and THE WAGER) and other non-fiction authors who effortlessly blend the transcendent drama of fiction with the juicy details of real life, John Berendt somehow manages to take readers to a place far, far away from the mundanity of real life while also dropping us directly into our neighbor’s backyard. This is my favorite type of non-fiction: the kind that makes you forget it’s real.
What I loved: The characters! More on what makes them great in a moment, but there is no story here without Berendt’s critical eye on his subjects. He nails them through laser-sharp descriptions and revealing dialogue. Though the narrative dragged at moments and I found myself a bit suspicious of an author who chooses to make himself completely invisible (Berendt does not stray from his role as a reporter), I felt deeply invested in the outcomes of every character, particularly the ones with the most quirks (looking at you, Luther Driggers!).
What I learned: This book was a master class in capturing regional dialects, and characterization through specific and revealing dialogue. Take this line, for example:
“What I enjoy most…is living like an aristocrat without the burden of having to be one. Blue bloods are so inbred and weak. All those generations of importance and grandeur to live up to. No wonder they lack ambition. I don’t envy them.”
Does Williams’ condescending, self-righteous, pig-headed judgment ooze thickly enough here? Berendt does this superbly with every character and every line of dialogue. It made me wonder if he carried a tape recorder with him 24/7 or if he just gave himself artistic license in rendering his subjects.
My husband carried this book around the house for so many months that I began to equate the illustration on the cover with the entire plot. But because I suffer from a rare and underresearched condition called Animal Identification Disorder (no, it’s not in the DSM-V… yet), I didn’t know it was a mountain lion until TC pointed it out. My boggled mind was just as convinced it was a bear. Or a coyote.
I digress.
While there IS a mountain lion in the book (technically, a catamount), the story is far more expansive than a single four-legged predator. It’s about a plot of land in the wilderness of Western Massachusetts and its inhabitants over hundreds of years. It’s also a wistful love note to that changing landscape, one altered by human hands, changing climate, and the violent laws of nature. In fact, brutality is a theme throughout. Across every generation, Mason’s characters suffer excruciatingly (mostly because of each other). And the single witness to these fascinating events? Those faithful, lush woods that surround them.
What I loved: I’ll admit to being enamored by just about everything in this book. In fact, I’m so enamored, I’m a little mad at it for ruining everything I read next. The writing is masterful, inventive, hilarious, and devastating. There are a hundred good reasons the NYTimes chose it as one of the best reads of last year. But mostly, I’m a sucker for a well-done epic saga and anything with subtle supernatural vibes, of which this fits both bills. A few characters will haunt me for time to come, particularly the eccentric Osgood twins (think Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? vibes).
What I learned: NORTH WOODS gets an A+ for creativity and experimentation with form. As it spans generations, so, too, it spans writing styles: alternating POVs, epistolary, poetry, etc. The language also shifts, from the first colonial characters’ Old English to modern-day. There are even a few memorable pages in which we are told through detailed third-person omniscient narration about the copulation of two beetles. Weird, right? But given the context (an offspring of these beetles has a big impact on the woods), it’s also genius.
Not only could I not put this book down, but it opened something within me creatively. A permission slip, if you will, to experiment and have fun with language. After reading, I closed the book and outpoured some of the best writing I’ve done in a very long time.
This is one I’ll read and re-read, likely discovering something new each time.
For quick access to all the books I share on Beyond the Classroom, you can visit my Bookshop.org page.
And, if you’re an avid reader, maybe you’ve been keeping up with the New York Times Top 100 Books of the 21st Century list. It’s a funny thing, to make a list of historic reads only 24 years into the century, not to mention, one with questionable execution. While it’s lovely to ask the literary elite what books wowed them most, it tends to yield results that trend toward niche. My guess is that a whole lot of great, needle-moving books were left off the list, despite having had huge cultural influence (Eat Pray Love, Gone Girl, The DaVinci Code, anyone?).
But good news. You can still cast your ballot.
And please do share! I’ve loved reading everyone’s selections.
These all sound amazing! I also read three or four books at a time! Right now, I'm obsessed with The Night Ends With Fire by K.X. Song.
I also appreciate you telling us why you loved the books and connecting on the craft. I would not have picked North Woods to read but because of what you said about the craft, I just might!
Loving the Sicilian Inheritance! Thank you for sharing this recommendation.