The Best Book I Read This Month: The Burning Girls by C.J. Tudor

The best book I read this month is one of the most complex stories that I’ve read in a long time. C.J. Tudor’s The Burning Girls weaves together multiple mysteries in a compelling way.

The main storyline follows Reverend Jack Brooks and her daughter as they try to make a new life in a small town. Brooks was assigned to this town after a tragedy on her old parish, but instead of peace in her new post, she lands in the middle of small town politics, an unsolved disappearance of two teenage girls, and questions about the death of a former priest. Oh, and someone is stalking her. It’s a lot of plot lines to manage, and Tudor does so brilliantly. Some twists and turns I figured out ahead of time, but others came as a surprise—always a good characteristic to have in a mystery.

The Best Book I Read This Month: The Book of Cold Cases by Simone St. James

The best book I read this month was the latest by Simone St. James. St. James has become an auto-buy author for me. The Sun Down Motel blew me away. Broken Girls broke my heart. And while The Book of Cold Cases didn’t have the same powerful effect on me, it did capture my attention and hold my interest.

Like St. James’s other books, The Book of Cold Cases is part mystery, part ghost story. A small town socialite has long been the suspect in a 1970s murder spree. In 2017, a crime blogger sets out to find the truth of what happened. The story is told in dual timelines, so we get both perspectives—the socialite and the crime blogger, the past and the present.

Maybe because I am familiar with St. James’s work, I saw the twist coming and accurately predicted a couple of other plot points, but I still thoroughly enjoyed the ride. I found Beth, the socialite, an interesting and complex character, and I enjoyed the layers of her story more than crime blogger Shea’s.

I don’t know if this is a book I would want to read again, but I am glad I was able to escape into it for a while.

Poodle Promises

I met a 22-year old poodle this week, and he gave me hope.

Let me explain.

Benji

<—This is Benji. He was the first dog that was only mine. I adopted him when he was 6 months old, after he’d been abandoned and passed around so much that he became permanently scarred for life. I promised I would never abandon him, and I didn’t. After years of illness, he crossed the Rainbow Bridge at 16 1/2. I was heartbroken.

Six months after I lost Benji, I adopted Duncan. In some ways, Duncan has turned out to be more my soul dog than Benji ever was. Like me, he’s an introvert, an observer. He too was abandoned, found in an open field during a polar vortex winter. I adopted him a couple of months later, and I made him the same promise I made Benji: I will never abandon you. At the time, Duncan was almost completely shut down. It’s taken time, but finally, in the last few years, he’s started to show his personality. It turns out, he’s a funny little man.

When I adopted Duncan, I was still grieving Benji. Duncan was 7 1/2 when I got him, and I knew I would have fewer years with him than I had with Benji. So I asked Duncan to make me a promise: stay with me for 8 years.

Duncan

It’s a promise he seems to be keeping. Duncan is now 14. He’s in perfect health; the vet said he’s the healthiest 14-year-old she’s ever seen. In the back of my mind, though, I’ve known we’re approaching that eight year mark, that my time with him is likely winding down.

Enter Cooper, the 22-year-old poodle.

There’s no question Cooper is an old man. In fact, he’s the oldest living poodle I’ve ever met. He has clearly been loved and cared for, like Duncan is. And it hit me: if Cooper can live to be 22, so can Duncan.

So I came home after meeting Cooper the Elder and asked Duncan for a new promise: stay with me until you’re 22.

So far, he hasn’t said no.

The Best Book I Read This Month: The Year of Lear by James Shapiro

The best book I read this month was another work of history: The Year of Lear by James Shapiro. The book recounts events in Great Britain during the year that Shakespeare wrote King Lear, Macbeth, and Antony and Cleopatra, and like its predecessor (A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare), it was a fascinating read.

It took me nearly the whole month to read The Year of Lear, even though it has fewer than 300 pages. That’s because every chapter is chock full of interesting details, and I didn’t want to miss any of them.

Not much is known about Shakespeare’s life at this time, so much of the book describes what was going on around him and how those events appear to be reflected in the plays he wrote in 1606. Shapiro points out connections that I hadn’t seen before. For example, I know about the Gunpowder Plot (“Remember, remember, the 5th of November!”) and I know Shakespeare was alive at the time, but until this book, that connection wasn’t real to me. But it was real. In fact, some of Shakespeare’s family back in Stratford risked their lives in defying some of the anti-Catholic measures that followed the failed plot and assassination attempt. Whether Shakespeare himself did too remains unknown.

Macbeth is my favorite of Shakespeare’s plays, so of course I was most interested in the forces that shaped it. I already knew that Banquo was an homage to King James (who claimed to be Banquo’s descendant), but I was fascinated to learn about other influences, some of which shaped the weird sisters and others that shaped the dialogue. The whole idea of equivocation in the play comes from real-life political debate at the time.

I could go on and on, but if I did, you’d have no reason to read the book yourself—which you should, especially if you’re a fan of Shakespeare or any kind of Anglophile. And while you’re at it, pick up a copy of Shapiro’s “prequel”—A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare—too.

The Best Book I Read This Month: Pocahontas and the English Boys by Karen Ordahl Kupperman

The best book I read this month was Pocahontas and the English Boys by historian Karen Ordahl Kupperman.

In the book, Kupperman tells the story of the Jamestown colony, but it’s not the usual tale of survival against all odds. In fact, John Smith makes only a cameo appearance. That was one of the things I liked about it. I’ve had more than my fill of the “John Smith saves the day” narrative.

Instead, Kupperman focuses her story on those who were caught between the English and Indigenous cultures: Pocahontas and three young English men who were sent to live with local tribes. It was this cross-cultural focus that made this book stand out to me. I liked seeing Jamestown from the perspective of the Indigenous people it both displaced and depended on.

And while some history books can be dense and difficult, I found Kupperman’s style interesting and accessible. This book read as smoothly and as quickly as a novel. I devoured it in a couple of days.

In short, Kupperman’s Pocahontas and the English Boys is engaging brain food.