Books Completed Since July 1

 The Rise of the Rocket Girls, Nathalia Holt
Of all the science-related books I read in July, this was one of my favorites.

In the early part of the 20th century, the last place you would have found a woman working would be in scientific endeavors. Oh, there were a few "odd" women ("bluestockings," they were called, usually "repressed spinsters" who couldn't find a husband) who worked in the sciences, but young, attractive women who excelled in mathematics or sciences usually took more "womanly" jobs like teaching (or just surrendered and married). Then a few young ladies found employment at what would later be the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, like Barby Canright, Macie Roberts, and Barbara Lewis, performing manual calculations for rocket trajectories (or using a newfangled adding machine called a Friden). These "rocket girls," and other "computers" like them, formed the backbone of later rocket research—but the male engineers got all the glory.

This is a super profile of Canright, Roberts, Lewis, and the women who followed, women who juggled motherhood and marriage with 12-hour days and launch deadlines, and managed to balance being "all-American girls" while performing mathematical calculations that some men said were impossible for women to even understand. Even more amazing, most of the "rocket girls"'s husbands understood their dedication to their work and didn't mind their long hours, taking over "womanly" chores like caring for the children and keeping house. I felt like I really got to know all of them, and cheered them on each time one of their projects succeeded, or when they finally got newer computers to make easier calculations for their ever-more-complicated space vehicles. Their expertise sent us from simple rockets adapted from the German designs to spacecraft that orbited the planets and finally headed out into the solar system.

A scientific book that doesn't talk down, but makes each new challenge understandable. Highly recommended!

 Death in the Stars, Frances Brody
Kate Shackleton is requested to escort a famous singer  to the event of the century: a total eclipse of the sun. She's unsure why the woman is so afraid to go on her own, especially when a good friend of the singer's, a beloved comedian, is accompanying her to the event as well. The trip will be by air, but there seems to be something deeper in Selina Fellini's fear. Of course it's cloudy the day of the eclipse, but the clouds part just in time for everyone to view the spectacular. It's only after the event is over that they notice comedian Billy Moffatt is gone—and then he's found unconscious and later dies. Kate doesn't find this suspicious, only odd, until it's found out two others in Selina and Billy's performing troupe died of odd causes, a dog trainer named Douglas Dougan, and a ventriloquist, Floyd Lloyd. Could Selina's war-changed husband have caused one of or all of the deaths? Or someone in her family?

This is a enjoyable combination of behind-the-scenes at a music hall and the lives of its performers combined with an astronomical event and the repercussions of the aftermath of the first World War. I love the language and the narration of all of the Kate Shackleton books, and also the supporting characters like Mrs. Sugden and Jim Sykes. In this story, Mrs. Sugden reveals another piece of her past—one that is rather novel!—that eventually helps with the investigation, and there's also an unusual young character who provides a rather eerie clue via an odd means of communication.

Plus, Harriet's back, so am looking forward to the next book to see how Kate deals with having her niece aboard.

 Missions to the Moon, Rod Pyle
This is an interactive coffee table book about NASA and the moon missions to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landings. Already chock full of photographs, diagrams, artwork, and original correspondence (a page from the FBI's investigation of Wernher von Braun, von Braun's original sketch of a space station concept from 1964, George Low's letter changing the name of the first space effort to "Project Mercury" (it was originally "Project Astronaut"), a hand-drawing of Lunar Orbit Rendezvous, etc.), there is also an app you can download so you can click links in the text with your phone or tablet and see further artifacts and video.

A nice, basic look at man's interest in the moon, the first steps with rockets, and the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo missions (the latter which forms the bulk of the second half of the book), perfect for thos who were born after the wonder had happened.

 Shoot for the Moon, James Donovan
This was one of several books released for the moon landing anniversary, and we ended up buying most of them. I have books about the space program going back to the late 60s (John Noble Wilford's We Reach the Moon and Richard Lewis' Appointment on the Moon), and appreciated these fresh looks at the space program. This one is enjoyably narrated and focuses on some of the flight controllers and other participants who were never mentioned in previous books, like Steve Bales and Max Faget. It also took the time to focus on Wernher von Braun and his connection with the Nazis, and also a little of the history of the Soviet space program (I had no idea Valentina Tereshkova was not a trained astronaut; instead she was a skydiver who was given a chance to go up in space as a stunt and then given honors afterwards—she had no control of the spacecraft at all).

One review of this book on Amazon by someone who worked for NASA says the text is riddled with numerous small scientific errors and some mistakes of detail. I believe I did find a mistake but can no longer remember what it was. It's a shame because otherwise the text is a page turner. I would still recommend it for the story of the accomplishments of the engineers and the astronauts who made going to the moon a reality.

 Mayhem & Mass, Olivia Matthews
This is a pleasant mystery series starring Sister Louise LaSalle, who lives in the religious community of St. Hermione of Ephesus in Briar Coast, New York. Her nephew Chris LaSalle works as an official for the college connected with the congregation. Sister Lou has invited her old friend Maurice Jordan to speak at St. Hermione's, an unpopular decision with some of the community because of his controversial views. When he's late for his speaking engagement, Sister Lou hurries to his hotel room, and finds him dead by violence. A shaken Sister Lou is determined to find justice for him, just as a cynical newspaper reporter named Sharelle Henson thinks following the murder investigation will gain her some points at her new job, even though her editor is dead set against it.

I like the story characters, but the author's storytelling skills are occasionally amateurish. She introduces her characters as Full Name "Nickname" Last Name, which comes off as stilted. Although I appreciate her describing rooms and other locations by citing vivid colors, styles and architectural details, she vastly overdoes it; for instance we are introduced to Sister Lou's office with its bright blue chairs early in the story, and then they are described again and again and again. Yes, we know her chairs are blue. Enough already.

On the other hand, I've seen reviews saying that the ending "wasn't fair" because the killer isn't introduced into the plot until almost halfway through the book. Actually, most of the suspects aren't introduced until the story is well enough on its way; the beginning of the book is used to introduce Sister Lou, Chris, Shari, Lou's nemesis Sister Marianna, the other sisters, the two police officers on the case, and even the murder victim. And when all the suspects are introduced, there's also a big fat clue that leads you to the solution.

I'm going to stick with this series because I like Sister Lou and the idea of a sister sleuth, but I hope the author's writing improves. (And, swelp me, I was brought up Catholic, but had no idea there was a difference between a sister and a nun!)

 The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, Marie Kondo
I think an American child psychologist reading about Marie Kondo's childhood would have sent her off to therapy. She's the middle child, with an older brother who barely looks up from his video games, and her mother is absorbed with attending a younger sister. She started reading books about organization at age 5. She was always the kid who tidied up the classroom, then she'd run home and tidy her room. If it got untidy again she cried. To her tidying was not only fun, but personally fulfilling.

To live Marie Kondo's way, you must live very simply. She aspires to this, and it is a tenant of her Shinto beliefs as well. Many people like an austere lifestyle, most don't. But that works for "KonMari," as she's known. She realizes it won't work for everyone.

What she's saying at her most basic is that you should quit weighing yourself down with things you don't need. Maybe you can't cut your books down to thirty like she has—but are you hanging on to books you read ten years ago, don't recall the plot, and don't think you'll ever re-read? Why? If you really lose that thirty pounds like you've been promising yourself the last fifteen years, will you really pull those musty old size twelve skirts and pants out of a drawer and wear them? Aren't they all out of style? And why cook with dried up spices with no more flavor, or possibly give yourself food poisoning eating that outdated can of soup? You should look at a book and exclaim, "Oh, I love that; I'm going to re-read it!" or "This is a great reference book for my writing!" Look at an outfit and say, "This looks so good on me. I'm going to wear it tomorrow." These are the things that "spark joy." These you keep.

Of course there are certain things you have to keep even though they don't "spark joy." Even if you live in Florida, you keep a heavy coat in case of a cold spell. You are required to keep things like tax returns, business papers, medical records, etc. But those actually "spark joy" when you know you have them when you need them. Everything else is lagniappe.

I doubt if I'll ever get rid of all my clutter, but this is what I've been doing for the past seventeen months. I saved a whole bunch of autumn and winter magazines for the pictures. I pulled them down, tore out the prettiest leaf and snow pictures, but discovered I couldn't figure out why I kept half of them! Out they went. Clothes I didn't want got donated, tattered clothes went in the trash, gifts I had no room for went bye-bye to Goodwill so someone will love them as I don't.

I do like Kondo's method of not tidying by room, but by category. You pull your clothes out from wherever they are living and check them all. Are you wearing them? If so, why not? If you don't like them, let go. She even has a ceremony where you say farewell to the things you are giving away, thanking them for their service, and sending them off to make someone else happy. Could change your thinking about clutter.

 The Mercury 13, Martha Ackmann
In 1961, Randy Lovelace of the Lovelace Clinic, which provided the medical testing needed for the original astronaut corps, secretly tested thirteen women with the object of seeing if women as well as men were fit for space travel. There was then, and still is, a great deal of misinformation about physical differences in women making it impossible for them to travel in space (even though we now have female astronauts). It should be no surprise that the women tested, mostly trained pilots, passed all the medical tests with flying colors, as well as the psychological ones. In fact, there were certain advantages to women astronauts: they weighed less, used less oxygen, and some even dealt with solitary duty better than men.

However, of course it was 1961, NASA wasn't looking for women, and there was a requirement that astronauts be jet test pilots, a job which a woman was not allowed to perform.

This is the story of the women who volunteered for these tests, even though they knew the testing was not official. They hoped that if they did well NASA might change their minds about accepting women to the program, if not then, perhaps in the future. The women included Jerrie Cobb, who sought to break altitude records while reporters asked her inane questions like "Why does a pretty young girl like you want to spend her time around the dirt and grime and noise of airplanes?" And also Jacqueline Cochran, an orphan from Florida who fell in love with air racing and whose husband supported her dream. There was also Ruth Nichols (who is portrayed in Fly Girls), an air racer and competitor for flying awards; Betty Skelton, who'd flown with the Blue Angels, and Dorothy Anderson, who risked losing her job to participate in the tests.

I wasn't as taken by the writing in this one as in, say, Hidden Figures or Rise of the Rocket Girls, and was disappointed to hear about Jackie Cochran's actions. According to the author, she seemed determined to hog any glory that came from women's involvement in the space program. But it was interesting to find out that the women did have "the right stuff" medically and psychologically, and it would have been intriguing to see how they stacked up with the rest of the requirements had they only been allowed to participate.

 Murder Go Round, Carol J. Perry
In this fifth book in the "Witch City" mysteries, Lee Barrett goes to a storage auction with her elderly Aunt Ibbie, who raised Lee after her parents died, after Ibbie becomes a fan of a television series about them (clearly based on Storage Wars). The two bid on a lackluster unit, and most of what's in it is junk, but one item stands out: a vintage carousel horse that Lee loves and immediately takes to be restored. Next thing she knows her police detective boyfriend reports that the restoration shop was burgled and someone prised apart her carousel horse, evidently looking for something, and Lee's unwanted ESP has reared its ugly head again, showing her the vision of a dead man with a bleeding neck in the reflective surface of the silver samovar also discovered in the storage unit.

Next thing Lee knows, she's involved with Salem, MA's Russian community, an odd red-headed woman named Stacia, and someone who keeps following her around. After all, what has an old carousel horse got to do with people who were once servants to the Romanovs, not to mention the KGB?

Again, these aren't great art, but I like the combination of Salem, the mild "woo-woo" involved in the plots, the cat O'Ryan, and Lee, Pete, and Aunt Ibbie, not to mention River and the folks at "the Tabby." Lee and Pete's romance isn't intrusive as some cozy mystery romances are, either.

 First on the Moon: The Apollo 11 50th Anniversary Experience, Rod Pyle
This is Pyle's more detailed narrative specifically focusing on the flight of Apollo 11 in coffee table format, a companion volume to the more general overview Missions to the Moon. Like that volume, it's crammed with diagrams, black and white and color photographs from the NASA archives, drawings, artwork, and clippings, with a foreward by Buzz Aldrin. If you were born after the event, a visual feast for the eyes and mind, if you do remember the incredible event, a walk down memory lane.

 The Happy Hollisters and the Mystery at Missile Town, Jerry West
How fortuitous that I still had this particular Hollisters book to read just as the anniversary of Apollo 11 rolled around!

When this novel takes place, Cape Canaveral was chiefly known as a missile base, but a few monkeys had been launched in rockets and recovered. The Hollisters receive a letter from Elaine Hollister's sister Carol Davis, inviting the family to visit them in Florida, and intrigues the family by enclosing a photo of Lady Rhesus, a monkey who has gone into space. She is owned by Miss Mott, a neighbor of the Davises. So Elaine Hollister and the kids (Pete, 12; Pam, 10; Ricky, 7; Holly, 6; and Sue, 4) are off to Cape Canaveral, where they get involved, of course, in several mysteries, including possible sabotage of the missiles and the disappearance of Lady Rhesus. (Holly also has an adventure on the train—she always was my favorite!)

Again, given when this was written, was surprised and delighted to discover that, when the Hollister kids are playing at a pretend missile launch, and Joey Brill (the resident bully) and his friend taunt the kids that "only men launch missiles" (meaning that Pam and Holly shouldn't be participating in the game), Ricky informs them that "plenty of women have jobs at the missile range"—their Uncle Walt, who works at Cape Canaveral, told them so. This was written in 1961, long before Rise of the Rocket Girls and Hidden Figures brought out the important work women did in the space program! Later in the book they meet Miss Mott, who helped train the monkeys that were shot up in experimental rockets. (Lady Rhesus is clearly modeled on "Able," a rhesus monkey who was shot into space, and her partner "Baker," a squirrel monkey, who lived until age 27.) At the Cape, they meet both women and men reporters. At the end of the book, it is Pam who helps find a missing missile payload. 

A cool entry in the "Happy Hollisters" series!

 Carrying the Fire, Michael Collins
I haven't read all the astronaut biographies, but this is supposed to be one of the best, and I quite concur. Collins relates his early years as an Army brat (he was born in Rome, Italy), but the majority of his story is about his days as a test pilot and then as an astronaut. This is a delightful read because Collins explains everything in an understandable way without being condescending and keeps the tone light except when the situation requires it. He states in his Preface: "I bore easily, and I have written for people who bore easily," and indeed, there is not a boring page in this volume. His narration is engaging, often self-deprecating, and frequently humorous, but always interesting, whether talking about his training at Edwards Air Force Base or narrating some of the negative parts of astronaut life, including stupid and/or repetitive press questions, body rebellion under the pressure of training, and, of course, detailing the rigors of spaceflight and his own views about being "the guy who went to the moon, but didn't get to walk on it." There are also short sketches about each of the astronauts he worked with (Collins has something nice to say about everyone, even if his capsule characterizations hint that a relationship wasn't all gravy), and he's included a poem his wife wrote for him before he left on his moon voyage, which will leave a lump in your throat.

Glad I finally had the time to invest in this book. Highly recommended as an astronaut bio and behind the scenes look at the 1960s Space Program.

 Re-read: The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Robert A. Heinlein
In 2075, the moon has become a penal colony, but most of the sentences are long over; people have remained on the moon partially because a body used to the moon's gravity suffers on Earth and partially because the "Loonies" have built their own society, pretty much ignored by the corrupt warden and his cadre ("the Authority") so long as no major laws are broken. We join this world via Manuel Garcia O'Kelly-Davis (just call him "Mannie"), who has become the go-to computer repairman for the Authority's computer who runs everything: a HOLMES FOUR that Mannie calls Mycroft or "Mike."

And Mike has become sentient, with Mannie as his first "not-stupid" friend.

With Mike's help, political agitator Wyoming Knott and elderly Professor Bernardo de la Paz, plus an initially-reluctant Mannie, the Loonies decide they are tired of all their profit going to Earth (mmmn, students of US history, does this sound familiar?) and wish to be a sovereign nation. They're not afraid to fight, and that's good, because the Federation on Earth doesn't want to give independence to a bunch of convicts and will do anything to stop them. Mike becomes one of the revolutionaries and concocts an audacious scheme to defend Luna against the overwhelming presence of Earth shock troops.

Heinlein basically recreates the Revolutionary War in space, with Earth as the evil British and Luna as the American colonists, and in the process creates a new society where line marriages are the norm (multiple husbands and wives), the characters speak in a mixed patois that includes Australian English and Russian, and no one is crazy to "go home" since Luna is their home. The characters, especially brainy Mike, who grows from an innocent youngster taking his baby steps in the world of men to one of the leaders of the rebellion, will stick in your mind long after you finish the book, and the end, at least back when the book was written, is a stunner.

 Eight Years to the Moon, Nancy Atkinson
If you are a space program fan and have enjoyed all the television specials and all the new books about NASA and the "Space Race," but are looking for "something different," you might want to try this oversized hardback that turns its back on the politics and the public, and actually does takes you behind the scenes. The astronauts make brief appearances, but the protagonists in this are the folks that built and programmed the computers, tested the spacecraft, managed the companies that built the vehicles. You meet Ken Young, one of the first employees in the new Mission Control location in Houston, TX; chemical engineer Norman Chaffee (no relation to the astronaut Roger Chaffee) who went into building rocket engines; Dottie Lee, who, as a "computer" at Langley Research Center, worked out trajectories for missiles; Earle Kyle, one of the very first African American aerospace engineers; and more.

If you're fascinated most by the the science behind the space missions, this is definitely the book for you. Full of black and white illustrations from NASA files and photographs of the people who made the rockets fire, the capsules work, and the astronauts breathe, with text that covers everything from propulsion to life support.

 Murder by the Book, Lauren Elliott
I'm a sucker for mystery books taking place in New England, not to mention mysteries taking place in bookstores. I need to get suckered in less easily. This book makes me want to throw things. I'm not sure if it's the book or up.

Our protagonist Addison "Addie" Greyborne previously worked with rare books at the Boston Public Library. When a great aunt she doesn't even remember leaves her the old family home in the small New England town of Greyborne Harbor and a great deal of money, Addie takes the opportunity to move there and open her own rare book store. The day she opens the store someone in a dark car tries to run her down, then someone tries to break into her store, and then while she and her new friend Serena (owner of the cute tea shop next door, SerenaTEA [eyeroll]) are cleaning up a mess at the back of the store, someone breaks into the front and creates a mess, but just makes off with a cheap copy of Alice in Wonderland.

This is all in the first chapter. In the next 250 pages, the dark car tries to get her several more times and is seen hanging around her home, someone breaks into her home, someone steals her keys, etc. We also find out that a year earlier Addie lost her fiance David in a home invasion, six months earlier her father died near the Harbor in a terrible car crash, and then she was notified her aunt passed away. For most of the book she is either racing to open her store then back to her house where it takes her ages to get an alarm system installed to the police station or somebody's trying to physically injure her or break into the places she owns...she finally decides she needs an assistant and hires the first person she interviews. (Ironically, the new employee is the daughter of a fellow businessperson on the street, a sour woman named Martha who hates Addie on sight and gets together with a bunch of other Harbor businesspeople to force her to leave town because...well, we don't know why—check next paragraph.) Oh, and then one of the businesspeople is killed and Serena gets accused of the murder, and...

Where do I start? Serena helps Addie clean up an inadvertent mess and suddenly they are besties. Serena's brother Marc is the chief of police, and he and Addie meet eyes and suddenly it's romantic attraction 101. Next thing you know they keep running into each other; no wonder the other businesspeople are all atwitter. I'm shy, but Addie doesn't seem to have that problem, so why in heaven's name doesn't she march up to Martha and ask her, civilly, why all the hate? Apparently someone's been spreading rumors that Addie moved to Greyborne Harbor to escape prosecution on criminal activities in Boston, but even when that is squelched everyone in town hates her and Marc and Serena explain this is because they are jealous of Addie being a Greyborne. Wow, this sounds like a jolly little town. Also, at the time the book opens Addie has been in town a month, remodeling and setting up the store. Do you mean to tell me that at no time has she found a moment to talk to anyone in town, make some friends, go to the local coffee shop, or even notice the tea store next door? She had to eat; didn't she even go grocery shopping? Really?

So you've followed my narration about all the things that happened to Addie: the almost-car accidents, the break-ins at the store and at the house, the other threats to her life, right? So finally she gets the alarm system installed in her house! And what does this ridiculous woman do? She leaves the door open and the alarm off because she's expecting Serena for tea. Seriously? Seriously? In one chapter she wonders if Marc thinks she's a dingbat. Well, I for one, lady, can tell you you are.

(Also, note to the publisher and the writer: the name of the book is Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. No book expert like Addie would call it just plain "Alice in Wonderland" [the title which is not even italicized in the book either time it's mentioned]. The original copy mentioned in this book would have been entitled Alice's Adventures Underground.)

Please. Find a better book. Even Dr. Seuss created more saavy characters.

 The Adventure of the Peculiar Protocols, Nicholas Meyer
Back in the 1970s, Meyer penned The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, about Sherlock Holmes' efforts, with the assistance of Dr. John Watson and the famous "alienist" Sigmund Freud, to wean himself from a cocaine addiction that is making him increasingly ill and paranoid. (The book was later made into a film which kept those essential parts of the plot while changing the rest of the storyline; it too was well-received.) Later Meyer wrote two sequels, The West End Horror and The Canary Trainer. This is his fourth Holmes effort, which opens on Sherlock Holmes' birthday when Mycroft contacts his brother about an unsettling manuscript that has come into his hands. The British intelligence agent bringing it to him was murdered, and it has become essential, in the political climate, to stop its distribution. The manuscript is the infamous "Protocols of the Elders of Zion," an anti-Semetic screed published in Russia in the late 19th century, purportedly a true report of the "Jewish plot" to take over the world.

In Meyer's novel, it is Watson's new wife, Juliet, who provides the means of translation for the Russian manuscript—she has "bluestocking" family members belonging to the Bloomsbury set who are Russian-language scholars—and discovers it's a plagiarism of a French document criticizing Napoleon III. Holmes, Watson, and a Jewish-American woman named Anna Strunsky head for Russia under assumed names, dodging those who follow them, determined to discover who wrote this calumny and get his (or her) confession, thereby refuting the document if it is distributed.

It's a hair-raising adventure across Europe and into Russia, and all done in Meyer's marvelous voice: he has Conan Doyle's style down cold  and provides a narrative as much like the originals as possible (without the pesky racism). The result comes off as a "real Holmes story"—but there's one fly in the ointment: anyone familiar with history knows that the "Protocols of the Elders of Zion" continued as a destructive juggernaut, causing the strengthening of anti-Semitism, pogroms, and eventually the Holocaust, and even today the document is taken for real by Holocaust deniers. So there is no triumph at the end for our intrepid pair. Also, Anna Strunsky is introduced as an intelligent, tough woman who gets through all of the hardships Holmes and Watson also suffer, but an event happens that lessens her role in the story. It was rather irritating to have a positive figure come out in such a negative manner. Still worth it for the great Holmes/Watson interaction and Arthur Conan Doyle feel.

Books Completed Since June 1

 The Perfectionists, Simon Winchester
Not so far in the past as history goes, tools and instruments were hand made, one at a time. So long as they worked properly, there was no need for them to be extremely precise. Then came the age of exploration and the age of invention. Such inventions, especially, were required to be precise if they were to work properly: to measure time and/or distance accurately to make scientific measurements, or for machinery (like steam engines) to work properly without the danger of leakage, or, worse, explosions. This is Winchester's history of the art of precision, from medieval navigational equipment to John Harrison's stunning chronometer to the boring of cannon in a manner that the barrels would not explode, all the way through steam engines, tools, screwmaking machines, clocks, interchangeable parts on everything from firearms to washing machines, locks, jets, GPS, atomic clocks, and more.

I know little about engineering, but this book was fascinating. Winchester traces his own interest in the subject to his father's engineering job, and also explains the difference between "precision" and "accuracy" (it's a significant one). Each of the chapters "ups" the precision of the instrument in the previous chapter, until we reach a tolerance of 0.000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 01. I've really enjoyed all of Winchester's other books, especially Atlantic, and this one does not disappoint. Page turning from front to back.

 A Death of No Importance, Mariah Fredericks
This is the first in the Jane Prescott mystery series (I reviewed the second book, Death of a New American, previously). Jane, an orphan raised by her uncle (who works to save prostitutes from their lives on the street) previously worked for the late Mrs. Armslow, and, as the book opens, has worked for the nouveau riche Benchley family for a year as ladies' maid to Miss Charlotte Benchley. She and her shy sister Louise are just Out in society, and Charlotte has shocked everyone by becoming engaged to fast living Norrie Newsome, who supposedly had an understanding with Beatrice Tyler. But at the party to announce their engagement, Norrie is found with his face bashed in, and Charlotte is implicated in the death, even though the real suspect is considered to be an anarchist who has been threatening the Newsome family since a horrendous accident in a coal mine that they owned.

I enjoyed this book just as much as its sequel, and admire Fredericks for writing a historical novel where the protagonist is not a 21st century women dressed up in long frocks. While Jane, with her unconventional uncle and friend Anna who is an activist for worker's rights, has a more liberal view of the world than some women would have had back then, she is still bound by the conventions of her time. She's not a suffragette or an activist, but she is learning, as other women are in her time, that there may be other choices for her rather than traditional roles. The mystery itself is good, the historical underpinnings sound, and once again we discover that the veneer of the wealthy often had sordid underpinnings. Can't wait for more of this series.

 Brief Cases, Jim Butcher
This is a second collection of short stories set in the Harry Dresden universe. I saw several complaints and bad reviews about this collection since it collected all of the Dresden stories about his encounters with a Bigfoot named River Shoulders and his half-human son Irwin, which were previously collected in a Bigfoot story collection, and some of the stories had been in other collections. I think that's an unfair criticism; some of us do not purchase every single volume of urban fantasy short stories just for one Dresden story, so for me this was a welcome collection of stories I hadn't read, except for the very first story with Irwin. No fair knocking down a book's score for that!

Besides the three Bigfoot stories, we have a tale where warden Anastasia Luccio and a demonic nacken (horselike animal) go to Tombstone, Arizona, to arrest an errant warlock, and help Wyatt Earp defeat the warlocks protecting him; a fun story where Harry takes on the curse of the Chicago Cubs; a story featuring John Marcone; another with Molly Carpenter's anguish after a traumatic event; a Waldo Butters story (Butters was supposed to be a one-off character); and even a nifty three-part Rashomon-like narrative about Harry taking his daughter to the zoo, as told by Harry, daughter Maggie, and Harry's temple dog, the enigmatic and fey Mouse. The story taking place in Alaska was also a page-turner. Dresden fans should enjoy these additions to the Dresden-'verse.

 Bite Club, Laurien Berenson
I've read this series from the beginning, and there are some times when I love Aunt Peg and some times when I want to swat her. The latter is my reaction in this book, where Aunt Peg bodily takes over the small mystery-novel reading group that our protagonist Melanie Travis, special needs teacher, mom, and poodle handler, has formed and invites a half dozen more people to participate, all dog show people, of course. One of the guests asks to bring along her new neighbor, Evan Major, who seems to not have any friends. Evan asks if Melanie will help him train a bulldog puppy he purchased, but on her first training day, Evan doesn't answer the door, and when Melanie looks in his window, she sees him lying injured or dead in his home. The police are called, but the neighborhood busybody tells the detectives that Melanie went inside the house, and now she's a suspect in his murder.

In an unusual subplot, Melanie's dog-show friend Terry Denunzio suspects his older partner Crawford may be becoming attached to a younger man who has been assisting them at the shows. As Melanie owes him a favor, Terry asks if Melanie can scope out what's going on with the younger guy and Crawford. I usually like Terry, but this was very unfair of him.

Despite the behaviors of Aunt Peg and Terry, I enjoyed this installment as always. The mystery was convoluted enough, and we got to revisit some old friends like Alice Brickman, and also got to see Melanie's teen son Davey mature more in his dog-show efforts. Melanie's husband Sam as usual is good as gold and endlessly patient; I hope sometime Berenson is going to let us see him get frustrated and lose his temper, but this is not the installment. I twigged to the possible murderer the moment Melanie interviewed that person, but it was late enough in the book for that not to matter. Enjoyable as always!

 The Illustrated Walden, Henry David Thoreau
Thankfully, I never had this as required reading, so it wasn't ruined by well-meaning teachers who made you hate what might have been a good book. This copy had nifty illustrations (impressionist paintings, vintage and new woodcuts, pen-and-ink artwork, and bordered pages) to prettily mount Thoreau's most famous publication, so I figured I'd go for it.

I enjoyed this as long as he chronicled his life in his little cabin, talked about the natural world around him, and waxed philosophical. I could have done without the continual lectures about how everyone should live like he did, with minimal possessions and eating vegetarian. Snore. He does this for sixty pages at the beginning of the book, and then dotted throughout the text thereafter. Then there's the lecture about the uselessness of reading popular fiction instead of reading the classics. Sure, Henry, encourage everyone to march to a different drummer, but then call what people choose to do wrong. You sound just like the Puritans.

 Throw Out Fifty Things, Gail Blanke
In searching for Marie Kondo, I found this book on the shelves as well. Blanke walks the reader through tossing out unneeded things in your life: old completed work projects, used up makeup containers and spice bottles, tattered books and even more tattered furniture, broken items, clothes you never wear, and more. The gimmick to this is that once you discard the obligatory fifty items (or more), Blanke encourages you to do the same with emotional items: toss out old grudges, bad feelings, negative emotions, toxic relationships, etc. An okay reference to getting rid of not just things, but emotions that hold you back, but I'm glad I read it as a library copy.

 The Forgotten Arts & Crafts, John Seymour
This is a combination of two books, one about vintage building methods and crafts, and one about household items that used to be common (like churns and hand-dashes for washing clothes). The author talks with affection about hedging, thatching, plowing behind horses, logging, and all sorts of hand work that used to be done in the 19th century, and all the old skills that are being lost, and does the same for household items like dashes, churns, sadirons, hand sewing, cooking over a woodstove, etc. (apparently he's never asked women about this, because, while I like to look at these items as a curiosity, I sure as hell don't want to use them!). A great look at the effort our ancestors required to survive.

 The Fifth Heart, Dan Simmons
In 1885, Marian "Clover" Adams, wife of Henry Adams (grandson of John Quincy Adams, great-grandson of John Adams), committed suicide by drinking developing fluid. Clover, a quick-minded woman with an interest in photography, was known to suffer from "melancholy," yet in 1893 her brother Edward asks Sherlock Holmes to investigate what he suspects was murder—Holmes is about to leave for the US when he stops noted writer Henry James from committing suicide, taking a reluctant James with him on his investigation. James provides Holmes with an introduction to the Five of Hearts, a small club formed by the Adamses, John and Clara Hay, and an archaeologist named Clarence King.

Thus begins a long, long adventure that mixes Holmes, James, the Five of Hearts "club," and such other luminaries as Samuel Clemens, vice president Adlai Stevenson, and Theodore Roosevelt, and mixing in Holmes' thwarting of a Washington, DC, drug ring (but only after obtaining a new drug to help wean himself off cocaine, a promising new "heroic" drug called heroin) and his attempts to stop the assassination of the President at the Chicago Exposition.

Wow. What can I say about this book? It is crammed full of historical detail, from the slums of DC to the splendors of the "White City" in Chicago, from Clover Adams' extraordinary monument to Clemens' ill-fated investment into the Paige typesetting machine. I found it fascinating, except that if you took all these details out, you would be left with about half the book. Holmes' effort to stop the assassination is interesting, but it's buried under such minute details that most people won't find it worth the effort. Plus, frankly Henry James, who fills the Watson role, is a bore. He moans about his clever brother William, the psychologist; is jealous of his late sister's partner in a Boston marriage; fears being found out when Holmes first introduces himself to his friends as a Norwegian explorer; and complains endlessly that no one in the US appreciates his books. God, what a kvetch. If I keep it, it's just for the historical details.

 Clark Howard's Living Large for the Long Haul, Clark Howard
Another one of savings guru Howard's books about people who have either managed to turn around bad credit/bad spending habits or who have started on the right foot by saving money early. Featured are a couple who paid off $40K of debt in two years, another couple who now ride bicycles exclusively (sorry, guys, would not do this in Atlanta; I want to remain alive), a 32-year-old woman who's already saved $200K, a married pair who run their cars on used cooking grease, a man who traveled to India to save money on a surgical procedure, and more inspirational financial stories. Some good tips here, but I'm not sure I'd go to a foreign country for surgery or burn oil in my car.

 WHOology, Cavan Scott & Mark Wright
This is a chubby book of Doctor Who facts and trivia that I thought was a little too expensive for what it provided, since I have so many books about Doctor Who that contain similar facts. So only when I found a nice discount copy did I pick one up. Of interest: a timeline of significant events in the series' history, times the Doctor had a double, adventures mentioned but never seen, what's known about the Time Lords, the Doctor's family tree, and lots more bits and pieces about Daleks, Time Lords, and even about the Doctor's vintage car "Bessie." Enjoyable for fans.

 Lonely Planet's Best of Great Britain, Damian Harper, etc.
I confess, I ordered this for reasons you might think odd. We have no money to travel, let alone overseas, and husband has no vacation time after a company reorganization and several years of medical problems. But it has always been my dream to travel Great Britain, and I love listening to the Lonely Planet reporters come on Rick Steves' radio series and talk in enticing words about the glories of  historic buildings, beautiful landscapes, and wonderful food. I'd never read a Lonely Planet guidebook.

I was actually a little disappointed. This didn't seem much different than any other guidebook I've purchased, including Rick Steves' himself. I guess from the way the Lonely Planet people talked on the radio show, I thought it would be more nicely written. My bad, not Lonely Planet's, I guess. If you want to read a beautifully written travel guide (but not to Britain), try Journey to New England: a Traveler's Guide. I guess I was hoping it would be more like that.

 How Star Wars Conquered the Universe, Chris Taylor
I've seen all the films in the SW "saga" and enjoyed them (even the prequels, even though the Anakin/Padme stuff made me gag), but I've never been a SW junkie. I don't go looking for SW fanfic, or cosplay; I read a few of the early tie-in novels, but, like most of the Star Trek books, usually find them dull. Really, it was the amazing interplay of the main characters in the original trilogy that made Star Wars for me. Plus I followed all the Star Wars "making of" stories in "Starlog" magazine, so normally a making-of book would not be something I would have considered.

However, looking through this book, I discovered that it wasn't just the story of skinny George Lucas, the imaginative kid from Modesto, CA, and his complicated voyage that culminated in creating space-opera for a new generation, and the evolution of the first film and then its sequels and prequels, but contained stories about how Star Wars changed the lives of some of its fans. The introduction is the fascinating story of the first time the original film was shown to a Navajo audience with the dialog in the Navajo language. Chapter three talks about the founding of the Stormtrooper group "the 501st," created by an amputee and SW fan who wanted a costume that would not show his disability. Other chapters cover fans who have studied Jedi philosophy, action figure collectors, the Joseph Campbell mythology books, and people who build their own working R2-D2 robots. The Expanded Universe books and animated series get their due, and there's even a chapter about Star Wars spoofs.

I enjoyed the entire kit and kaboodle here, and did learn lots of things about the creation of the films that "Starlog" had never covered.

 Rough Magic, Lara Prior-Palmer
The description of this book sounded wonderful: 18-year-old girl enters a wild Mongolian horse race, despite the fact her father hates horses and at first forbids her to go; turns out her aunt is a famous British equestrian rider. She has always been a restless soul, flitting from one thing to another.

The reality is somewhat less. I was hoping for an introspective book, in which lonely riding on the Asian steppes brought her to a different consciousness, or learning through her ride about the Mongolian countryside and the people. Very little is learned, and although she chronicles her thoughts and some very bizarre nightmares, it all seems very superficial. She doesn't even seem to prepare for the trip in even a minor way (even to forgetting to pack sanitary napkins, which kind of grossed me out when she talked about her blue jeans turning purple), and seems to resent the people who did prepare, including a highly regarded rider from Texas, who comes with all sorts of equipment. This rider seems to be hated just because she is from Texas, even though at the end it is also noted that she has pushed her horse too hard. (The race strictly regulates how hard the horses can be ridden, how far, and they are vetted at each stop, the rider penalized if the horse is slow to recover.) This seems to make the Texas rider sound callous, but it's apparently okay for Lara to whip her "lazy" horse when he doesn't want to go fast, or to stimulate him by scaring him with a motorcycle. In fact, Lara states at the beginning of the race she will be happy if she finishes and experiences the race, and that she isn't all that competitive. By the end all she wants to do is beat the more prepared riders, especially the Texas girl.

This, combined with some of her other actions, make her sound willful and spoiled. (At one point she relates that, as a child, she threw someone's dog into a pool because she was angry.) Ultimately I admire her for completing the race, despite its hardships, but I came away not liking her very much.

 The Woman in the Water, Charles Finch
This is the first of three prequels to the Charles Lenox mysteries (the first book which was A Beautiful Blue Death) that takes us back to the days when Lenox first lived in London with his former college scout Graham and was a neophyte trying to become a private investigator. He has solved two minor mysteries, and while he and Graham daily take newspaper cuttings about suspected crimes, nothing has come his way yet, and the police think he's something of a joke. And then one morning a clipping takes their eye: a letter to the newspaper states that its author has committed the perfect crime, so perfect that no one has noticed it, and the author is disappointed in the police force. Both men are alarmed because the letter's author says he will be committing another crime soon. Can they prevent someone from being killed?

As in the second of the prequels, which I read first, I enjoyed this volume better than the more recent of Lenox's adventures, in which he has formed a detective agency. His partnership with Graham, and his unrequited love for his best friend Elizabeth (later to be known as Lady Jane) is very appealing, as are his solo efforts. There is also a touching subplot involving a member of Lenox's family and the scenes with them are a joy. The mystery is reasonably convoluted and takes Lenox and Graham from society venues to the mudlarks who hunt up discards to sell. But the real draw here is the family and the personal drama.

 Mary Russell's War and Other Stories of Suspense, Laurie R. King
This is a volume of short stories based on King's series of books about Mary Russell, an intelligent young woman of mixed British and American ancestry who comes to live in rural Sussex during World War I and encounters a retired Sherlock Holmes, who takes her on as his apprentice in the first book of the series, The Beekeeper's Apprentice. Later, after she attends Oxford, she and Holmes are married. I couldn't get into the series the first time I read the initial book, then came back a few years ago and found I enjoyed it more, so naturally I picked this up at a book sale recently. One of the stories, "Beekeeping for Beginners," I had read online, but all others are new to me, including the titular "Mary Russell's War," which is Mary's diary from the time war breaks out in Europe until she returns to Sussex after the death of her family and meets Holmes. This is probably my favorite of the stories, liberally illustrated by "newspaper" news clippings and other illos. There are also two Christmas stories, one from Mary's childhood, and a very amusing two part tale of an elderly Russell and Holmes on the run from Sherlock-crazy American tourists. Plus there's "Mrs. Hudson's Case," in which that august lady puts one over on Holmes (but not necessarily on Russell).

If you are a fan of the Russell stories, these are a good addition to the canon.

 A Double Life, Alan Shayne and Norman Sunshine
I confess, I bought this because Alan Shayne produced and Norman Sunshine did the commercial-break cutouts for the Addie Mills specials (Shayne also created and produced The Snoop Sisters, but he didn't have much to do with the series itself) and there was a whole chapter about the creation of The House Without a Christmas Tree. At the time I read the preview of the book, it was the first time I knew Shayne and Sunshine had been a couple. This interested me more.

Shayne and Sunshine take turns telling their stories, starting with their first meeting, then going back to their youth of trying to reconcile their attraction to men in a society where this was not only considered repugnant, but in most cases illegal. Shayne originally wished to be an actor and later became a casting director and then producer (he went to acting school with Marlon Brando, who sounded like a self-absorbed twit); Sunshine was always an artist, one who went from designing advertising copy to a full-time artist with gallery showings (Sunshine once worked for Jane Trahey, who wrote Life With Mother Superior, made into the film The Trouble With Angels). As their careers progress, and occasionally rise and fall, so also does their relationship.

This is my first time reading a book with a real-life narrative of a same-sex relationship. Surprise for those of you who may not like them because you think they are "unnatural": it's just like an opposite sex relationship: the same love, the same feelings, the same misunderstandings, the same up-and-down career choices that affect a relationship. I enjoyed the relationship story and also both career stories (although how Shayne didn't go berserk at his job at Warner Brothers I'll never know). Really enjoyed seeing Sunshine's work in one of the photo inserts (I like the earlier work better than the abstract work, but that's me), especially the country-themed ones, and the ones depicting the anonymity of city living. We get celebrity stories both positive (after their house burned down, Shayne and Sunshine lived at Rock Hudson's home at his invitation, even though they were not close friends) and negative (Lee Radziwell appearing in a TV-adaptation of Laura with a Truman Capote script), some very sad (the Bette Davis tale, and also the final story about Alan's ex-wife Jacqueline), and some very positive, like the Addie Mills collaboration. And I cried when they finally were able to be married.

  Murder in the British Museum, Jim Eldridge
This is the third (or maybe second) book in a series about former police officer Daniel Wilson (he worked on the Jack the Ripper case and is now a private investigator) and Abigail Fenton (archaeologist and explorer, and now investigator). Everyone else whose reviews I've read seems to have enjoyed this book, but I'm afraid I'm going to be the dissenting vote here. I found it terribly difficult to get into and to finish reading, the characters one-dimensional, the romance tepid, even the feud between the male protagonist and one of the police officers was dull. Even worse, the moment one particular character was introduced, I guessed immediately this was the murderer of Professor Pickering, and I usually don't pick up on these things.

Daniel Wilson and Abigail Fenton have to be two of the dullest Victorian lovers ever. Every time they're at home and she's cooking for him I wanted to fall asleep. I don't get any sense of them as living, breathing human beings. Plus Abigail, already unconventional for being an archaeologist, is really bucking convention by living with a man out of wedlock. While they don't go around broadcasting this fact, a lot of people either seem to know or have guessed, so I would expect a lot more negative acceptance of Abigail because they believed or suspected she was "living in sin." Even worse, Americanisms and modern sayings—at one point Abigail talks about someone "hanging around" someone else (while "hang out" goes back to the 19th century, I believe "hanging around" is a 20th century term)—infiltrate every chapter. I'd no sooner gotten into what sounded like authentic British Victorian dialog when up would come one of those anachronisms to toss me out of the story.

There are so many better male/female Victorian crimefighting teams: the Pitts, the Monks, and especially Amelia Peabody and Radcliffe Emerson. I eat up their adventures; this was just tedious.

 True Stories of Heroic Dogs, George Watson Little
This is a vintage volume from Grosset & Dunlap's "Famous Dog Stories" collection, and I probably would have killed for any or every one of the books in it as a kid: Jim Kjelgaard, Jack O'Brien, James Oliver Curwood, and more, a great collection of authors who wrote slam-bang canine-oriented adventures. It's a set of true stories, written for a younger audience, of real-life heroic dogs, including a collie who saves her toddler charge from drowning, an early 20th century tale of a mongrel dog who helped the police, a Great Dane who was a true friend of poor slum boys, a hunting dog who saved his owner from a raging river, and more.

I was amused by the acknowledgments page when the editor thanks "Mrs. Julie Campbell Tatham" for her help. Julie Campbell was the original author of the first few Trixie Belden mystery books, and the tale "Pal" appears to have been almost certainly written by Tatham: it takes place in Trixie's old stomping grounds, the Hudson Valley; the mother's name is Julie; and one of the kids says "Gleeps!" just like in the Belden stories. It's very possible Tatham adapted the stories within.

Dog lovers should enjoy this collection, even though it's very old fashioned.

 Moonbound: Apollo 11 and the Dream of Spaceflight, Jonathan Fetter-Vorm
This is a nifty graphic-novel story of the Apollo program, which begins with the astronauts arriving at the moon, then alternating with the story of man's relationship with the moon, from beliefs about it from ancient civilizations to theories about what kind of life might exist there, and then with the first scientific discoveries by men like Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler, to the present, where it intersects with the mission. The text is unsparing: you learn about the concentration-camp workers of Mittelwerk who put together those rockets Wernher von Braun and his team created; how Sergei Korolov was treated before Stalin realized he needed him; how women were originally trained as astronauts and even beat the physical records set by men, but who were never seriously considered based on the recommendations of many men (including John Glenn); the story of Margaret Hamilton, who programmed all the computers but got no credit because software wasn't considered important. Scientific principles are also illustrated to make them more easily understood (for instance, why you can't "speed up" in orbit to overtake another spacecraft).

I'm not always happy with the art in graphic novels, but this works pretty well, portraying the "present" in full color while the historical flashbacks are done in three-color combinations, which easily delineate the eras. Some of the art, in fact, is pretty cool, especially the final panel on page 37, a symbolic illustration of Johannes Kepler's breakthrough.

Extremely enjoyable, and probably a great way to introduce a scientifically inclined youngster to the history of the moon landings.

Books Completed Since May 1

 Victoria, A.N. Wilson
While Daisy Goodwin has used several sources for her scripts for the British series Victoria, this, I learned, was the primary text from which her story was taken. I had previously read Wilson's The Victorians and therefore greeted this new book with optimism and was rewarded with a very readable biography, which, of course, begins with Victoria's forebears and "the baby race" that was necessary after the death of George IV's daughter Charlotte to provide an heir to the British throne.

Wilson wants to emphasize the point that while most people remember the later images of Queen Victoria, the chubby old lady with the sour face whose trademark line was always the parody "We are not amused," Victoria was once a lively, vivacious young lady, held under the thumb of her mother, who loved her but was never acknowledged by the royal family, and her mother's ambitious advisor Sir John Conroy, who nursed a long-standing belief that he deserved to be part of the ruling class. She had decided opinions, but would listen to others if sufficiently intrigued, and was more cunning than her prime ministers, Parliament, and other members of the family believed.

Learned many interesting things about "the John Brown affair" and also about Victoria's later friendship with her Indian servant "the Munshi," and, sadly, the imperious way she treated her own children even after the way she felt she had been take advantage of. "Bertie," later Edward VII, was left to his own devices (which turned out to be gambling and womanizing) when Victoria refused to allow him to learn statecraft from her (a privilege she extended to her hemophilic son Leopold), and the youngest, Beatrice ("Baby"), was expected to stay a spinster and provide companionship to her mother, something Beatrice eventually thwarted. And of course Victoria's passionate romance with Albert, whom she originally dismissed as a spousal choice, is well covered.

Wilson's prose makes Victoria come alive as a real woman with weaknesses and with a great deal of strength. Enjoyable throughout.

 Murder in the Bowery, Victoria Thompson
Frank Molloy's newest client in his still fairly new role as private investigator is a well-groomed young man named Will Bert who's searching for his younger brother, Freddie. Will and Freddie were sent West on an orphan train where Will found a sympathetic guardian and made good while Freddie ran away from his new family and is now supposedly back in New York. But the orphan train organization has no record of either boy, and Freddie is know in the newsboy community as "Two Toes" due to an accident—and he has no brother. Plus the search for Freddie has turned up another death, that of a young society woman named Estelle Longacre who enjoyed "slumming" in tours of the poor neighborhoods in the Bowery.

This is an absorbing entry in the series which mixes a real historic event—the newsboys' strike of 1899 (which inspired the cult musical Newsies)—with the mysteries of the missing Freddie and the murdered Estelle. It also exposes the seedy underbelly of not only the New York slums, but of dark secrets that underscored the life of the wealthy, leading to a rather creepy revelation and also a bit of vigilante justice.

Also enjoyed seeing Maeve chivvying the hotel remodelers!

  100 Life Hacks, Dan Grabham
It was a dollar, what can I say? Just what the cover says: tips, tricks and other "life hacks," from using a large paper clip as a makeshift phone stand to advice for doing better at work. Don't pay a lot; but you may find several good ideas.

 Curious New England, Citro and Gould
Picked this up for a dollar at a book sale. It's a tongue-in-cheek listing of all the strange exhibits, sights, monuments, and museums that can be found in the six states. Do you know colonies of parrots live in Connecticut? Or that there's a nut museum there as well? Would you like to visit a three-story outhouse? Head to Maine, where you'll also find a desert, remains of a Nazi POW camp, and a stove museum. Massachusetts boasts the Ether Dome in Boston, Fall River's Lizzie Borden tour, and a house made of paper. Visit a cuff link museum, a neolithic settlement, and a museum of American life during WWII in New Hampshire, and a pet cemetery of the rich and famous, a butterfly farm, and Nibbles the giant termite in Rhode Island. And wait, you're not finished: Vermont holds cursed mineral springs, its own personal "Loch Ness" monster (known as "Champ"), and a smelly rotten sneaker display. But wait, there's more!

Fun to read, probably more fun to visit.

 The Silver Gun, L.A. Chandlar
I started this book with such promise.

Lane Sanders is challenged and left breathless by her job assisting New York City mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, a short, squat piston of perpetual motion who keeps her on her toes. She has lived with her Bohemian aunt since her parents died, looked after by Aunt Evelyn's enigmatic majordomo Mr. Kirkland, gets on well with her co-worker and friend Valerie; less well with her other office mates Lizzie and Roxy, and she maintains a friendly but platonic relationship with a reporter named Rourke. LaGuardia is determined to rout out crime in his beloved city and frequently receives threats against his life, but Lane is still startled when one of those threats is delivered directly to her. And then someone tries to push her in front of a subway train.

There are several mysteries going on here: the threat to LaGuardia, the identity of a creepy-looking guy with long nose hairs that keeps showing up at events that LaGuardia attends, the handsome man with a British accent who steals Lane's heart at a dance hall, and an image that continually turns up in her dreams: a silver gun with elaborate red scrollwork on it that turns out to have something to do with her deceased parents. So there are lots of subplots, twists, and downright surprises in the plot, which starts with Lane at a run and just keeps her running.

And then it happened. Three times in two pages a police character referred to an unmarried woman as "Ms." Really? Really? You go through all this work developing a 1930s background and details (except for minor, maddening modernisms that crept in, like Lane and her mysterious guy dancing to a song that was written in the 1950s) and then you use a term that came in in the 1970s? It completely threw me out of the story and I never really got back into it. Plus the diary entries that Aunt Evelyn encourages Lane to read were written by a friend of hers that turned out to be a Famous Artist who has been in several media stories in the past few years. Not sure why this person was included in the plot.

 The Food of a Younger Land, Mark Kurlansky
In the 1930s, the Works Progress Administration was initiated to create jobs in a country shellshocked by the Great Depression. One of the WPA offshoots was the Federal Writers Project, most well known for experimental plays done by up-and-coming artists like Orson Welles and John Houseman, and the state guidebook project, which provided the history and highlights of each of the then 48 states and Washington, DC. But yet another project was put aside, America Eats, a book about the various regional foods of each section of the country, from the Yankee standards of New England to the Spanish-flavored cuisines of the West and of California. All over the country recipes and profiles were being submitted for a book hopefully to be published in 1942—and then came December 7, 1941.

This volume includes most of the unedited, unfinished excerpts, articles, and essays that were supposed to be part of the WPA's guide to American foods, and it's fascinating to read, from the pickles and Indian pudding of Vermont all the way to "Oklahoma City's famous Suzi-Q potatoes." We visit a "sugaring off," a clambake, a traditional Rhode Island May breakfast (these are still held); learn how to make traditional barbecue sauce in the south—and hominy, and mint juleps; attend a "Negro" baptism and eat "burgoo" and Brunswick stew; chow down on lots and lots of corn dishes in the Midwest, along with persimmons, pheasants, and Native American dishes; sample geoducks, Washington apples, Basque and Bohemian dishes, potatoes and "prairie oysters." This was a United States devoid of all but a few chain restaurants, where regional foods were made fresh with local ingredients and no one ate fresh tomatoes in December.

It's fascinating reading if you're interested in the food history of the United States. 

 Murder on Memory Lake, J.D. Griffo
An Italian grandmother as a sleuth? How could I resist, especially after I read the first few pages and our heroine responds to what she thinks is a scam phone call with "Ah, Madon!" and my childhood came spilling back, aunts, uncles, grandparents and great aunts, and godmothers all using that familiar exclamation. I ended up reading most of chapter one to my husband, laughing through half of it, as Alberta Scaglione discovers her great aunt Carmela has left her a darling lakefront home and almost three million dollars. But her peaceful new life doesn't stay peaceful because soon after she moves in Alberta discovers a dead body floating in the lake. And not only that, it's someone Alberta knows, Lucy Agostino. Alberta didn't like Lucy very much, but there's a clue on the body that lets her know that Lucy's death was the result of foul play. And since the police won't believe her, Alberta resolves she'll find out what happened to Lucy—with a little help from her sister Helen, an ex-nun; Joyce, her African-American  ex-sister-in-law who she likes more than her brother; and her granddaughter Gina, otherwise known as "Jinx" since the day she was born in a casino (it's a long story).

Parts of this book can be a bit unbelievable (like the search under the lake caper), but I didn't mind because it brought back all the wonderful memories of Italian family meals, the old Italian proverbs bandied about, and all the Italian terms like pozzo and ubotz, not to mention that so much of it is damn funny. I have the next one to read and another is coming out in the fall, and believe me, I'm waiting to see what these pazze Italian ladies come up with next! Just a fun cozy mystery, and so very, very nostalgic if you were brought up Italian.


 The Farmer's Son: Calving Season on a Family Farm, John Connell
John Connell has returned to the farm where he was raised, helping his father with the cattle and the sheep that support the family, after having been away some years. He falls back into the rhythms of country life pretty easily, helped along by his mother, but tension still exists between himself and his father. This is Connell's diary of six months on the farm and his relationships with the animals, with his parents, and with himself.

This is akin to the flip side of the stories told by James Herriot, of the indomitable farmers who brave all weathers and the forces of life and death to nurture and do good by their livestock. Connell's narrative is almost hypnotizing, told as if he were narrating it aloud, with an Irish lilt and often a poetic turn as he ruminates on farming, nature, and relationships. There are also asides where he talks about the ancestors of modern-day cattle, the aurochs, and how humans went from hunting them to raising them for meat and for milk. He also talks with affection about the sheep and a dog he is trying to train, and the ancestral farmlands of Ireland.

It's a beautifully written memoir about the farming life, if that is the type of book you are looking for.

 Ruff Justice, Laurien Berenson
Family awards are in the air in this entry in the Melanie Travis "canine mysteries" series. Her 13-year-old son Davey's poodle Augie needs only a few more points to become a champion. And her Aunt Peg is handling a promising new young poodle named Coral. Wanting Coral to look her best, Aunt Peg has commissioned a hand-braided leash from artisan Jasmine Crane, and goes to pick it up at her booth—and finds Jasmine strangled with one of her own leashes. Soon after, Aunt Peg and a young woman named Abby ask Melanie if she'll look into the disappearance of Abby's twin Amanda, a noted pet sitter. Amanda, coincidentally, was living in a garage apartment on Jasmine Crane's property.

Melanie only promises to check out a few people to try and locate Amanda, but the more she probes, the more she discovers that things with Jasmine, Amanda, Amanda's lackluster dog-show boyfriend Rick, and Jasmine's former partner Sadie aren't what they seem. Not to mention Jasmine's fellow vendors at dog shows, who have no love lost for her. And what about those burglaries occurring during dog shows?

In a subplot, Melanie assists Francesca, a new student at her school who is suddenly failing in her subjects.

Enjoyable as always, even if the subplot is predictable. I enjoy all the characters even if Aunt Peg continually gets on my nerves. I love the way Davey is standing up to her now!

  The History of THE BOOK in 100 Books, Roderick Cave and Sara Ayad
This is a nifty oversized book filled with fascinating photographs and prints chronicling the history of books, from the first basic storytelling "published" on cave walls and cuneiform tablets all the way to electronic books and even unusual books (are they really "books"?) Tally sticks that go back to 20,000BC, the lost knowledge of Inca khipus, palm leaf texts from India, the first cookbook; folding books, scrolled books, spiral books; handwritten manuscripts and printed manuscripts; graphs, patents, underground publications, bank notes, papermaking. comic books. All illustrated in full black and white and in color, photos, drawings, and more. Perfect for every book lover.

Books Completed Since April 1

 The Truth About Animals: Stoned Sloths, Lovelorn Hippos, and Other Tales from the Wild Side of Wildlife, Lucy Cooke
I confess, I picked this up because I opened it and came upon the author talking about Swedish police running afoul of moose drunken on fermented berries. How could you not want to read on?

This is Cooke's breezy—occasionally a bit too breezy—commentary on a handful of animals and not only their peculiarities, but the peculiar things men have ascribed to them in earlier centuries, and how they aren't really the way we portray them. For instance, sloths: their slowness has given them a classic bad rap for being useless animals because of their speed—yet sloths have survived longer than man, and manage to survive despite habitat changes, complete with peculiarities (like it takes a sloth a week to poop). She also talks about the aforementioned moose (like maybe they really aren't getting drunk on fermented berries), eels, chimpanzees (and why, even though they're our closest evolutionary relatives, you can't bring them up like children), beavers (do you know a lot of products made for human consumption have beaver anal fluid in them?), hyenas (females have sex organs that make them look like males, and they are strictly matriarchal), bats, frogs, vultures, storks, hippopotami (they have a tough time surviving in Africa, but ones smuggled into South American jungles are doing quite well!), pandas (despite how it looks in zoos, pandas actually mate very successfully and have rather randy sex lives when they do), and penguins. A smattering of bears (despite years of being told giant pandas aren't bears, well, they're closer to bears than anything else) and elephants and migratory birds show up as well.

This is a fun natural history, but be forewarned that since we are talking about past beliefs about animals, you'll need to get through some pretty hideous experiments scientists have done to these animals over the years. It's a small part of the book, but can get pretty grim. The chimpanzee and the vacuum cleaner story isn't exactly safe for work, either.

 Bertie: The Complete Prince of Wales Mysteries, Peter Lovesey
These mysteries (Bertie and the Tin Man, Bertie and the Seven Bodies, Bertie and the Crime of Passion) were first released in the late 1980s/early 1990s, and I can guess they are being re-released due to the continued interest in the British Victoria series currently being produced, featuring adorable Laurie Shepherd as a very young Albert Edward, later to become King Edward VII. I remember passing on them back then, but always regretted not reading them, so I have quite enjoyed getting caught up on Bertie's "career" as a detective.

I found the third book, taking place in Paris and featuring Sarah Bernhardt as Bertie's assistant in tracking down the murderer of the future son-in-law of an old French friend, the least interesting of the lot, although it was a great look at the 1880s Parisian scene. The first story is spun upon the fact that Bertie's favorite jockey Fred Archer just shot himself out of nowhere, after asking the bewildering question "Are they coming?" It did seem the most authentic of the lot, with Bertie investigating one of his favorite pastimes, although I was uncomfortable with Lovesey using a real-life suicide as a jumping-off place for an often tongue-in-cheek mystery. My favorite of the three was Bertie and the Seven Bodies, although the "base the killings around a rhyme" trope has been done often; I like country house mysteries and also Bertie's partner through much of the mystery is his wife Alix, who brings him down, sometimes quite humorously, from his fancy of being a private detective. This is Bertie with all his warts: a womanizer, a gourmand, an enjoyer of fine cigars and clothing, a little bit of a snob, but with a good heart and time on his hands, since his mother Queen Victoria refuses to give him anything worthwhile to do. (Victoria's Jenna Coleman is downright motherly compared to how the real Victoria treated the real Bertie, even in childhood.) And while he is rather a scattershot detective, his adventures are always fun.

If you've any interest in Victorian-era mystery stories or the infamous Prince of Wales who became, as King, "uncle of Europe," these should be your cup of tea.

 Joyful: The Surprising Power of Ordinary Things to Create Extraordinary Happiness, Ingrid Fetell Lee
Everyone recognizes that some big events spark joy: perhaps the birth of a long awaited baby, or the first college graduation in a family, a wedding. But Lee talks about the small things that also provide joy: energy, abundance, freedom, harmony, play, surprise, transcendence, magic, celebration, and renewal. She investigates how even just a pop of color affects emotions and how a change of color can even revitalize a neighborhood, how layering of colored patterns can boost your happiness, how walking through nature can relieve stress, how symmetry calms, how adults still need to play, how even the smallest surprise can change your day for the happier, and more. At the back of the book are simple exercises you can do to bring joy to your life.

I'd read about some of these other things in other books (colors in schools and in urban development, how we are starved for nature experiences, about how the Golden Mean affects you emotionally, etc.), but Lee gathers them here in one place. Dead serious people may think this is frivolous, but otherwise it's fun. Would love to experience some of the homes, apartments, and outdoor spaces she describes in the book!

 Re-Read: Little Men, Louisa May Alcott
I picked this up again on a whim one night and immediately fell once again in with the hijinks and lessons at Plumfield School. While we adults know Alcott wrote these children's tales to earn money for her family, and much preferred her "blood and thunder" stories, and while Little Men can be maddeningly didactic at times (and the chapter about the visit of Laurie and Amy's daughter is so sickly sweet it could give you diabetes), I appreciated the story with new eyes after having read several biographies of Alcott and of Alcott's family.

First and foremost Alcott wanted to defend the teaching methods espoused by her father Bronson Alcott and featured them prominently. "Teaching" in those days chiefly meant making children sit still and memorize things for hours at the time ("stuffing their heads like a Strasbourg goose," as Louisa put it—when I visited Old Sturbridge Village, the gentleman at the schoolhouse remonstrated me when I called him a "schoolteacher"; he was a "school keeper," he corrected me, there to make sure the kids read their books and did their lessons, not to teach), and Bronson's ideas were rather radical: he advocated schools governed by kindness, about children learning lessons about nature in nature itself rather than out of a dry textbook, of other hands-on instruction (rather like the later kindergarten movement and Montessori schools). American schools gradually did begin using most of these methods, but sadly today, except in innovative schools, have regressed. Once again children's heads are being stuffed like geese, this time to pass tests, and the valuable outdoor time that was found so useful in working off restlessness in pupils has now been restricted. Unless a child plays sports, many get no exercise at all, and recess is a declining event. The Bhaers, like Bronson, believed a good mixture of study and story, outdoor play and indoor hobbies, best gave children a rounded education.

The other thing I noted immediately in these days of sexual harassment of girls at school and in the MeToo movement is Jo's insistence that the boys as well as girls be taught good manners, and that boys learn to treat girls and women with respect. When Nat, Tommy, and Demi ruin Daisy, Nan, and Bess' "dinner party," Jo doesn't accept that "it was only in fun" and punishes the boys for their rudeness by forbidding the boys to speak to the girls. The boys soon realize the girls are as worthy as other boys of respect.

Also there is the matter of Jo's "black sheep" Dan, who has had a rough upbringing and who is coarse and wild. While he must learn respect and that duties come before pleasures, he is also given love and acceptance. Today Dan—and also perhaps wild little Nan Harding, Daisy's headstrong and sometimes heedless classmate—would be referred to counseling; perhaps they would be given ADHD drugs. Jo's solution to their restlessness is to give them both something to do that will absorb their energies, and along with love and kindness, this turns the trick. (I am not suggesting that ADHD drugs are bad and counseling is of no use. Some children are so hyperactive mentally that they literally do need medication to settle their minds to be able to think, and sometimes no amount of love and care can make up for childhood abuse. But sometimes it seems that drugs and counseling are quick-fix sops thrown at parents by a handful of lazy and greedy advisors.)

If you stopped after Little Women, I do recommend Little Men (eat a pickle while you read the "Goldilocks" chapter if you like) and its sequel, Jo's Boys, in which Alcott gives to Nan the ending Louisa Alcott really wanted for Jo.

 Death of a New American, Mariah Fredericks
My favorite period of history is the U.S. and Great Britain 1880 through the beginning of the first World War, so this hit my radar immediately. I wondered if I would have a problem with it being the second book in a series, but discovered it didn't make too much of a difference to the mystery portion of the story.

Jane Prescott is still fairly new in her position as ladies' maid to sisters Charlotte and Louise Benchley, still recovering from mercurial Charlotte's ill-advised engagement that went sour (see the first book). As news of the Titanic disaster makes headlines, Jane is accompanying Louise to Long Island for her upcoming wedding to William Tyler. Louise doesn't think much of herself and Jane is hoping marriage to the handsome and slightly shy himself William will help her. When they arrive at the home of Charles Tyler, William's guardian uncle, a man who is helping in the fight against the "Black Hand," gangsters among the newly-arrived Italian immigrants, Jane is drawn to the Tylers' nursemaid, a quiet young woman named Sofia who appears to adore her charges. But not long after they arrive, little Mabel Tyler rushes to Jane, frantic: her baby brother is crying and crying, and Sofia is not answering when Mabel calls for her. In the nursery, Jane finds baby Freddy on the floor and Sofia dead. The crime is written off as a botched kidnapping (an Italian gangster had been threatening the Tylers), and Sofia is considered part of the plot, but that doesn't square with Jane. She doesn't think Sofia had any part in the crime.

One of the problems of any modern-day novel written about that period is that so many of the heroines turn out to be 21st-century women in 19th/early 20th century dress. (This was particularly egregious in Cathy Pegau's Alaskan mysteries.) They are all for women's suffrage, educated women, free love, not automatically being married...and they don't sound like their Victorian/Edwardian counterparts who did believe in these things. I liked Jane because she's not sure about these things, but at the same time she is coming to believe that all women shouldn't be relegated to be dutiful wives and airhead spinsters. She is basically learning as she goes along, and doesn't feel the need to topple social structure immediately as she does. She seems more realistic. I also liked her friend Anna, who has gotten involved with labor unions in order to get her own people, and other immigrants, paid fairly.

I also enjoyed this book because of the Italo-American storyline, as all four of my grandparents were from Italy. The novel shows the type of bigotry they endured every day, something that was still alive and kicking well into the 1940s when my mother took her mother to the Red Cross to see if there was any word of my uncle, who was stationed in the Pacific during World War II, and my grandmother was dismissed by a Red Cross worker as "another stupid Dago."

I now know I want to read the first book in this series to see how she came to work for the Benchleys, what happened to Charlotte, and how she met Herald reporter Michael Behan.

 American Moonshot, Douglas Brinkley
This is an interesting take on the U.S. space program, paralleling the histories of the early space pioneers along with the early life of a youngster who would seem like the last person to put his interest in flying to the moon: the wealthy young scion of one of Boston's noted families, John F. Kennedy. Brinkley chronicles the career of Kennedy against that of the pioneers of space travel: Goddard, Oberth, and finally Von Braun.

In general I liked this book because I was a small child during the Kennedy administration and remember the "Camelot" mystique and because I followed the space program as an older child. However, I am dismayed by the reviews that cite so many mistakes in the text. I'm sorry to hear there are so many factual errors since I really liked the idea of paralleling the Kennedy story with the space program history.

 Keeping Up Appearances: Hyacinth Bucket's Book of Etiquette for the Socially Less Fortunate, Roy Clarke and Jonathan Rice
I got this for 75 cents at a book sale and chuckled my way through it. The narrative ties together dialog from the television series, and it's a fun read if you enjoy following the adventures of "the Bucket woman." Don't pay full price, though. (I know, that would horrify Hyacinth...)

 A Gentleman's Murder, Christopher Huang
It's 1924 in London, England, and Eric Peterkin, like his father and grandfather before him, belongs to the Brittania Club, an exclusive gentleman's club for ex-military members. He is used to the peculiarities of the members, and when one of the members bets another that he can break into a lock box in the the members' safe deposit room, he merely views it as another club foible—until the person whose box was supposed to be raided turns up dead in the supposedly always-secured room. In involving himself in the mystery, with the help of his sister Penny and eccentric friend Avery, Eric is thrown back into war memories, long-buried secrets, and the specter of the charnel fields of Flanders, along with the disappearance of a Chinese nurse from an estate turned convalescent hospital.

The twist in this story is that Eric Peterkin is somewhat of a stranger in a strange land: while his father's heritage gains him membership in the Brittania, he is still looked on with suspicion (even by a couple of members) because his mother was Chinese. It is the era of the "Yellow Peril" in literature and in theatre, and Eric, who evaluates books for publication, is already tired of books with Chinese villains and seeing plays with Chinese villains. As he investigates the crime that took place in his club, he is continually mistaken for a chauffeur, servant, or lackey.

Huang has written a great "Golden Age" style murder mystery with a twist. I enjoyed this thoroughly and hope there are sequels.

 Tales from Shakespeare, Charles and Mary Lamb
You can't make it through 19th century children's literature without bumping into "Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare" somewhere along the line. Brother and sister Charles and Mary Lamb (he was the younger) adapted in 1807 twenty of Shakespeare's plays (fourteen comedies and six tragedies—no historicals) into prose (while including tough subjects like murder and jealousy, of course they skipped sexual situations completely). What follows is a very likeable narrative of the most famous of the plays, including "The Tempest," "Romeo and Juliet," "Macbeth," "Midsummer's Night Dream," etc. and if you wanted to know more about the plays without reading them, this is a good way to learn. The edition I found at Barnes & Noble is from Fall River Press with illustrations taken from Arthur Rackham, Robert Anning Bell, and Walter Paget (brother of Sidney, who illustrated some of the Sherlock Holmes stories), all lovely 19th century work that enhance the story narratives.

 Easter Ideals, Ideals Publications
The spring edition of Ideals, this is devoted to both the religious side of Easter and general spring beauty, a collection of artwork, lush photographs, poetry and essays, plus the Bible narrative for Easter. Particularly liked the poems "Symbol," "April Rain," and the Wordsworth "Written in March," plus Pamela Kennedy's essay about Thomas the apostle.