Book Review

John Bolton in The Room Where it Happened

John Bolton has never been one of my favorite characters. We are at philosophical odds. That said, upon reading his new book, I’ve developed a sense of respect for the man’s knowledge and better understand why he wears the feathers of a hawk as opposed to a dove.

“Memortality” — A New Take on the Undead

With the made up word Memortality, the book’s protagonist is a paraplegic teen, Minerva Rus, who has an unnatural ability to bring back the dead by simply remembering them. But she’s not the first with this unusual ability. Memortality is a romp through a web of everyday people with not-everyday paranormal talents.

“Fresno Growing Up” Harvests Memories

If more history books where written in the style of Provost, a California State University, Fresno grad, more students may find history intriguing, instead of a reluctant must-do.

I did not know the historical cultural soup of Fresno—and Provost writes in a manner that makes me want to know more.

Joni Mitchell, “In Her Own Words”

I knew I made the right choice for my next book to read when I opened to the introduction and it read, “One November night in 1966…the coffeehouse was a dark hole…on the lit-up stage…stood a girl who must have picked out her miniskirt at the Salvation Army…she turned to face the empty seats and, leaning closer to the mike she strummed a succession of chords with a surprisingly assertive hand…and then she started to sing…”

Travel Journalist’s Ukraine Adventure Becomes Personal Discovery

Last November, I asked to review Judith Fein’s recently published book, The Spoon from Minkowitz.   She forwarded the PDF copy with follow-up emails probing my thoughts about the book. “I’m captivated,” I emailed. “I was worried that only Jews would relate to the book,” Fein returned. No. This is a book for all cultures. The premise of Fein’s new book captured my curiosity for many reasons, and I greedily wanted to be among the first to read it. First.  I hoped that []

A Slave To The Root

My apologies to the gray-haired women who scurried away when they noticed my intense stares.  I’m not weird, I was  just checking out your hair.  Now, that’s some nice gray—I could do that. Or:  OMG, she looks older than the pyramids.  And:  What’s that? Icing on top of her head? Some of those gray heads wore the ever-popular but fashionably exhausted 1980’s wedge , while others can’t let go of that gray poodle-do.  I think it was the cuts that scared me []