My library holds list is always a surprise, as books I put on hold ages ago (and forgotten) unexpectedly become available. Such was the case with This Time Tomorrow, a time travel novel, which is a favorite genre here at Book Barmy. I’m definitely fascinated by the concept.

I dove right in…abandoning the other books on my teetering stack.

The novel opens with Alice on the eve of her 40th birthday taking stock of her life. Her career dreams have fizzled, her love life is empty, and her father is lying in a hospital bed, nearing the end of his life. Understandably, Alice has already begun grieving.

Grief was something that moved in and stayed. Maybe it moved from one side of the room to the other, farther away from the window, but it was always there.

After drinking way too much, Alice wakes up in 1996 on her 16th birthday. Her father, Leonard, is in the prime of his life — young, and vibrant in ways she failed to appreciate at 16. He is a famous author, having written his own highly successful time travel novel which is going to be made into a television program. This first time back in time (yes there will be others) Alice is star struck by her father and overwhelmed with love and regret.

When she was young, she’d thought he was old, and now that he was old, Alice realized how young he’d been. Perspective was unfair.

Alice herself is full of life and bubbly at 16. She also has the teenage angst and heartbreak which she can remedy with hindsight. She makes choices she was afraid of at 16 and corrects hurtful actions with her closest friend. It also turns out that high school is just as dreadful as she remembers. (Just imagine what would it be like to see and appreciate your world at 16, but with 40-year-old perspective.)

Now I’m going to stop for a moment here and reflect on the time travel genre. Usually these novels focus on the well known trope – the ‘do-over’; what can be changed, making different choices, and catastrophic events avoided – and there are good ones and bad ones.

Instead, Ms. Straub focuses on the smaller, more intimate human character changes. This Time Tomorrow lets Alice change things that are more subtle –to change the future for her father — helping her father get healthier, encouraging him to continue with a second novel, making sure she shows up at his publicity junkets. There’s also self-reflection for Alice, cultivating her own self-trust – and also sharpening her love and appreciation for what actually did happen. I found this so interesting and refreshingly different.

Alice discovers that she can return to this day again and again, always going back to her 16th birthday and then forward to age 40. Each trip back in time increases her awareness and appreciation of her past, as well as the joys in her present day.

Maybe that was the trick to life: to notice all the tiny moments in the day when everything else fell away and, for a split second, or maybe even a few seconds, you had no worries, only pleasure, only appreciation of what was right in front of you.

This highly readable novel is filled with lovely little gems that stick with the reader. There’s the never aging cat Ursula (named after Ursula Le Guin), the embarrassing teenage years, and the wonderful descriptions of New York City (shout outs throughout to Gray’s Papaya). I found the depiction of the gated Pomander Walk where young Alice and Lawrence live so charming, that I had to look it up. Here are some photos.

This is an engaging, hopeful and entrancing novel about about regret, about alternatives and above all about love with an ending that’s as satisfying as it is bittersweet. It choked me up and caused me to think about how the pieces of our lives can be rearranged, to form a new picture, simply by being mindful of the choices we make.

This Time Tomorrow reflects on the transitory nature of life and reminds us of the need to tangibly appreciate our closest friends and loved ones in the here and now. Alice gets a second chance to do this through time travel – a reminder to us mere mortals, stuck in the present time.

It’s not about the time. It’s about how you spend it. Where you put your energy.

This Time Tomorrow is very reminiscent of one of my favorite films – “About Time” which I also loved.

You can see it on Amazon Prime.

You may remember my earlier post about Ms. Dallas. I mentioned that I had read an advanced reading copy of her latest novel- Where Coyotes Howl. Well, it’s just been published, so now I can talk about it.

Ellen has accepted the post of the new schoolteacher in Wallace, a tiny Wyoming town in 1916. A monumental change from the big city she comes from– characterized by dusty streets, desolate surroundings, and seedy-looking men lounging under a tree “stove-up cowboys down on their luck”. She finds a room in a run-down shack with a poor woman and her abusive husband. Things are looking pretty grim for Ellen.

Until she meets Charlie – a young cowboy who is working on a nearby ranch. He is a good man and they begin to court and soon married.

Charlie owns a bit of land so he builds her a house made of wood because she abhors snakes which live in regular sod houses on the prairie.

Let me stop here for a moment, because I have to admit I don’t read romance and at this point in the novel it appears – whoops, this is indeed a tale of love – okay a love story – but stick with me, this is no Hallmark story.

Ellen leaves her teaching post, because living on the prairie requires that she keep the household going while Charlie is at the ranch.

It’s a full time, no more like 24/7, job. Keeping the snow from coming inside the house as the wooden structure couldn’t keep out the storms, and with water brought in barrels from a mile away were only a few of the challenges Ellen faces every day – not withstanding, the constant lonely nighttime howling of coyotes.

Ellen forms friendships with other women both in town and on the prairie, and these woman are just as strong as Ellen as they keep their husband’s land, cattle, and children sustained amidst the isolation and challenges.

Once again, as with all the other Ms. Dallas novels I’ve read, I became totally absorbed in this poignant, yet tragic story of two people’s lives during the early years of settlement in the west. Charlie and Ellen experience horrific weather, tragedies and extreme travails. But they survive – bound together by the love they had for each other.

The novel really shines with the descriptions of the landscape, the isolation, and severe hardship, but also the understanding and care for those facing even harder times. The sense of community was inspirational and I found their losses and those of their neighbors just heart breaking.

Where Coyotes Howl is highly recommended as absorbing historical fiction — but it’s really more than that. It’s also part western, and yes, part love story — but mostly it’s a full and gripping tale of early America and the struggles of it’s settlers.

‎ Many thanks to St. Martin’s Press for an advanced digital review copy via Netgally.

This book has been on my shelf for years, I pulled it down the other day, trying to remember where I got it (I can’t). and decided to give it a go.

Its a beautifully printed book with deckled edges and a stylish cover with an illustration of colonial Salem, Massachusetts inside. One of those books that is a pleasure to have in the hand.

From the book blurb:

Harvard graduate student Connie Goodwin needs to spend her summer doing research for her doctoral dissertation. But when her mother asks her to handle the sale of Connie’s grandmother’s abandoned home near Salem, she can’t refuse. As she is drawn deeper into the mysteries of the family house, Connie discovers an ancient key within a seventeenth-century Bible. The key contains a yellowing fragment of parchment with a name written upon it: Deliverance Dane. This discovery launches Connie on a quest–to find out who this woman was and to unearth a rare artifact of singular power: a physick book, its pages a secret repository for lost knowledge.

I loved the concept of a physick book (a book of herbal remedies aka a spellbook) being uncovered in modern times with flashbacks to the Salem Witch trials of 1692. There’s intrigue — stir in sinister people who want to acquire the book, and you’ve got a potential of a historical mystery adventure to enjoy.

The author, Katherine Howe, is descended from an accused witch in Salem and had another relation who died there — so she is ideally qualified to create such a story.

I gobbled up the beginning — the set up was intriguing, an old crumbling house, Connie, a PhD student doing research on the Salem witch trials, and discovering the story of Deliverance Dane, an herbal healer in Salem, 1692 — who, of course was suspected of being a witch.

Then just over 100 pages, the plot become light-weight and the book ventures into a romance. Connie meets and falls for Sam, a colonial preservationist and his work could have been a fascinating component to her research – but instead he is a shallow, undeveloped character.

Also annoying, while Connie is searching for the psysick book the clues become blatantly obvious. This reader found it hard to believe that an American colonial history PhD candidate wouldn’t be oblivious to these clues and be much further ahead in her quest. Then as I was still turning the pages, I laughed out loud when Connie has the revelation that her real name was Constance. Did she really not know the origins of her nickname of Connie?
Ms. Howe’s attempts to have some of the characters speak with a Boston accent are fingernails-on-a-chalk-board irritating. And the house — the crumbling house — well Connie doesn’t do anything to clean up this vermin infested house – yet she seems to keep living in it throughout.

Even with all these faults, I did find the chapters about Deliverance and her ordeal in early Salem interesting. Those parts of the book give a picture of the harshness of colonial life, and the level of ignorance and superstition that prevailed.

Full disclosure, I did not finish this book which I really wanted to like, but it just fell apart for me. The Psysick Book of Deliverance Dane was published back in 2009 and is the author’s first novel with first-novel flaws. I admire any author’s struggles to write, complete, and finally get a book published. Ms. Howe has since written several other novels since this one — it seems to me she has potential. I may try a more recent book to see how she has grown as a writer.

The other rainy evening I decided to peruse my sparse collection of poetry books with a goal of introducing more poetry into my other reading.

You see, I’m not a poetry reader, I often don’t understand it — at all. The Jam Jar Lifeboat is an exception. I went to see Ms. Ryan read from this collection shortly after she was named Poet Laureate of the United States (!) in 2008. I found her heart-warming and funny.

The Jam Jar Lifeboat and Other Novelties Exposed is a strange, yet humorous poetry collection. Each of the fifteen poems are Ms. Ryan’s response to a randomly selected entry in Ripley’s Believe It or Not!. Playful and darkly witty, they explore the oddities of life.

“The Walking Stick Insect” is one of my favorite:

The Walking Stick Insect — of South America often loses an antenna or leg – but always grows a new appendage. Often nature makes a mistake and a new antenna grows where the leg was lost. (Ripley’s Believe It or Not!)

Eventually the

most accident-prone

or war- weary

walking sticks

are entirely

reduced to antenna

with which they

pick their way

sensitively,

appalled by

everything’s

intensity

I remember this collection of poems very well and they made me smile then and once again during my re-reading that rainy night. As an added bonus, the poems are accompanied by delightful full color illustrations by Carl Dern.

In case you’re wondering about the title — one of poems in this collection is based off another Ripley’s tidbit about a man who invented a jam jar life boat which instantly sank the first time – you’ll just have to read it.

Ms. Ryan held the U.S. Poet Laureate position for two terms, using the appointment to champion community colleges like the one in Marin County where she teaches.

Ms. Ryan helps us see the miraculous in the every-day. These poems bring the freaky, outlandish and extreme down to earth with Ryan’s signature pith and wit. Her poems are funny and winsome — and most importantly very accessible. This slim volume may be hard to find, but every library should have a copy — somewhere — The Jam Jar Lifeboat is well worth searching out.

N.B. The other poet I find accessible is anything by Mary Oliver – I’ve only dabbled into the two of her books in my tiny collection, so have decided to read this one — could be my gateway into reading more poetry.

Any one have other suggestions for accessible poetry for a fledgling?

A few weeks back, searching my shelves for something appropriate for season, I pulled down my copy of Rebecca and realized I never actually read the book (shameful, Book Barmy).

I have, however, watched every film adaptation out there over the years.

The original by Alfred Hitchcock.

My favorite version from PBS, featuring Diana Rigg as the ominous Mrs. Danvers.

And, even the newest film adaptation on Netflix.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But here I have this beautiful copy of Rebecca, which a British friend sent me years ago –back when postal prices made it affordable to ship things across the oceans.

So I settled in to finally read Rebecca. A classic, gothic, spooky tale without any of monsters or gore on which modern thrillers rely. (I’m not keen on monsters or gore, having never recovered from the one and only Stephen King novel I read as a teenager.)

You fine readers have probably already read Rebecca, or like me have seen a film adaption, so I won’t spend too much time recapping the familiar plot.

Our unnamed narrator is an inexperienced and insecure girl (and she is just a girl) with a limited future – unless serving as a companion to an overbearing busybody by the name of Mrs. Van Hopper could be called a promising prospect. So when the handsome, mysterious and wealthy Maxim de Winter seems to take an interest and offers a much more enticing alternative – that of being his wife – what is a girl to do but accept? The honeymoon at an end, the newly married couple returns to Manderley, Max de Winter’s estate. The newly minted Mrs. de Winter arrives at Manderley with nervous excitement. She is well aware of her shortcomings. She is too shy, too young, too trusting, and though she is pretty she can not compete with the legendary first wife — the beautiful Rebecca de Winter, who seems to haunt not only the estate itself, but the characters as well.

Where our narrator is both immature and naïve, Maxim is complicated and divided. Her happiness becomes dependent on his smiles, her misery decided by a harsh word. Thanks to their age difference, he’s forgotten what this is like, how raw and all-consuming first love can be, and he’s careless with her feelings because of it. Unlike the films, the wonderful writing intensifies Maxim’s callousness, and as he takes complete advantage of her throughout, I despised him from the point of his introduction.

One of the guilty pleasures of a good gothic novel is the description of a magnificent old house, so precise and rich in detail that you can fantasize about how delightful–or how scary–living in such a mansion might be. Manderly is such a place, which comes alive for the reader, and it’s particularly intriguing to have it described by our narrator who is experiencing it for the first time. Manderley is a major character in this novel — a living, breathing entity. The descriptions of this magnificent place were so masterfully crafted, I felt as if I were right there with Mrs. de Winter, as she attempts to master her new role.

Daphne Du Maurier actually based Manderley on an estate she rented, complete with the portrait on the stairs and with the odd name of Menabilly.

Appropriately, I finished Rebecca on Halloween night and it is indeed a classic gothic. We have mystery, intrigue, deception, twists, turns, misunderstandings, accusations, threats, and creepy characters that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

A woman, a man, another woman’s shadow; a landscape, a house, a hidden history. These six elements have formed the gothic novel from Jane Eyre, to Wuthering Heights, and the more recent The Thirteenth Tale.

Rebecca is unique to the genre, as in it Daphne du Maurier has simplified and organized these six elements, which emphasizes the gothic, and enriches the ambiguity of the estate, the story, and the characters.

Today as I write this, I am still in the trance of reading a great classic, and it has me wanting more – more gothic (maybe Jane Eyre?) and definitely more Daphne du Maurier.

Please, please you must read Rebecca – available at your local library.

Don’t wait like I did.

This novel has been around for awhile, but I never got to it. So, when looking through my library wish list — (because you know I don’t have any of my own books to read) — I realized I had added this novel way back in 2018. So decided it was time to give it a try.

Eleanor Oliphant is 29, works as a finance clerk in Glasgow, has no friends or social contacts and is both eccentric and opinionated. Written in the first person, the novel begins with Eleanor’s day to day life and her unfiltered description of herself and everyone she meets. She is an introvert, who doesn’t fit in at work and is very uncomfortable in social situations. On the weekends she drinks alone, does difficult cross word puzzles, and seldom speaks to anyone — hers is a solitary and lonely lifestyle.

It wasn’t that I needed anyone. I was, as I had mentioned, perfectly fine.

She’s oblivious to how her actions appear to those around her and blames any awkwardness on the other person. Her private thoughts are witty, and often harsh judgements, about everything and everyone. Eleanor lacks both filters and self-awareness — so ends up saying things out loud that most of us wouldn’t dream of saying.

As you read this novel, if you’re like me, you’ll start to feel protective of Eleanor as she bumbles her way through the world in odd clothes and her sensible Velcro closure shoes.

I’d tried so hard, but something about me just didn’t fit. There was, it seemed, no Eleanor-shaped social hole for me to slot into.

Through out the book, Eleanor’s troubled past is revealed little by little, and the reader starts to realize that Eleanor Oliphant is Not Completely Fine.

Eleanor’s metamorphosis begins when an old man collapses in the street and, with her co-worker Raymond, they help and befriend him. She is soon visiting the old man in the hospital and becomes fond of Raymond, despite a fantasy crush on a singer in a local theater. She decides to step up her game, having her hair colored and styled, buying a new outfit (with non-Velcro shoes), and even submits to a makeup demonstration at department store. Eleanor finds the experience both exasperating and exciting.

Was this how it worked, then, successful social integration? Was it really that simple? Wear some lipstick, go to the hair dressers and alternate the clothes you wear? Someone ought to write a book, or at least an explanatory pamphlet, and pass the information on.

Most importantly she starts therapy, which as you can imagine is not a pleasant experience for our Eleanor. Her private thoughts about her therapist are both catty and funny. But, little by little, she confides bits and pieces of her past to the therapist and they form an uneasy but important bond.

I raced through this book, wanting things to go well for Eleanor and wanting to see what was going to happen to her next. Ms. Honeyman has created a character both fierce and independent yet also breathtakingly vulnerable. In one sentence her inner dialogue states:

I have always taken great pride in managing my life alone. I’m a sole survivor – I’m Eleanor Oliphant

Only later in the chapter to lament:

I could not solve the puzzle of me.

The author, Gail Honeyman said:

It’s a story of the transformational power of small acts of kindness. She wrote Eleanor’s life, as a person who has been knocked off kilter by an unnamed childhood horror which she can only recall from her sense of, before and after, and although she’s had a fairly catastrophic start in life, Eleanor is still the agent of her own life. She goes on to say that she didn’t want to write her as a victim, and didn’t want her to be self-pitying either. She tried to leave space in the narrative, so the reader could feel those feelings on her behalf.

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine gifts the reader with a character who will stick with you long after the novel is finished. I found Eleanor funny yet sad – smart yet naive.

It’s a wonderful exploration of how socialization can be effortless for most, while at the same time, cringe-worthily awkward for those who are different. I am fortunate to be in the former group, but I know those who fall into the latter. After reading this novel, I feel a greater understanding and empathy — as if I have walked a mile in their sensible Velcro shoes.