"On a Coastal Breeze" by Suzanne Woods Fisher

On a Coastal Breeze (May 5, 2020) by Suzanne Woods Fisher.*

Island living is a breeze.  Or it should be. Madison “Maddie” Grayson is in a good spot: she’s in better control of her anxiety and panic attacks (she’s a worst-case-scenario worrier), she’s newly licensed as a marriage and family therapist, and she’s opened her own independent practice. But a monkey wrench in the form of Ricky O’Shea has moved to Three Sisters Island. Pastor Rick now, Maddie has a tarnished past with him in her own eyes (Kindergarten through Senior Prom). He looks pretty much the same (tall and gorgeous), though older, and he oozes confidence, strength and fearlessness. His entrance onto Three Sisters Island was by parachuting in, after all. Maddie tries her best to avoid him, but the island is small, and her office is in the basement of the house that doubles as Pastor Rick’s church office and home. Neat. She’s going to have to face him and their past eventually. Rick is ready to talk, but is Maddie ready to “Look Fear in the Eyes and Smile?” Because she needs to. It doesn’t take a therapist to figure that out!

            Maddie isn’t the only one with struggles. Cam (Camden), the eldest sister, is working to bring sustainable energy to Three Sisters Island. She only knows how to give a project her all, which means her fiancé (Seth Walker) and adopted son (Cooper) feel like they’re on the backburner. Would going all-in for them be another “project” in Cam’s eyes? Will she and Seth ever get married? Blaine, the youngest, is at an impasse when it comes to culinary school. She’s certainly got the ability and creative talents for it, but something major that only Maddie knows about is going on, and because of it, Blaine has lost her sense of taste. Taste!  And she’s a culinary student! Is taking time to travel Europe and find her “culinary voice” what Blaine needs to do or is it a sign she’s slipping backward? Their dad, Paul, has turned 60, and he’s finding it hard to make decisions. He also finds himself focusing more on the Camp Kicking Moose customers that he finds needling instead of all the good of the camp. Is he not the people-person he thought he was? Is he just a “grouchy old innkeeper?”

            Is it wrong of me to feel good about myself when fictional characters have problems bigger than mine? Because I felt real good about myself while reading this story. The sisters all annoy me as if I suddenly have sisters to be annoyed with, but they each know how to be plucky, which I appreciate. The setting is vibrant in these summer months in Maine. The Graysons are a family continuing to rebuild relationships and grow in faith. The family drama is plentiful, marking the characters as distinct and memorable. I’m definitely looking forward to Blaine’s story, as I sense that I empathize with her struggles the most.

* Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Revell Books. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions are expressly my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

"Children of Virtue and Vengeance" by Tomi Adeyemi

Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Dec. 3, 2019) by Tomi Adeyemi.

*This is the middle novel in a trilogy.*

*SPOILERS from the dust jacket are included.*

Magic has returned to Orïsha with staggering results, but it’s at great cost to Zélie Adebola and Amari Olúborí. It isn’t only maji whose powers have awakened. Too many nobles and royals who were thought to be entirely kosidán (without magic) have turned out to have maji ancestry and are now called tîtáns. The tîtáns’ abilities are not bound by the need for incantations, as are necessary for the maji, thus creating a group that is unnervingly powerful and dangerously volatile. With Queen Nehanda (Amari’s mother) at the helm and with abilities that should not be remotely possible, peace will not happen, and Amari will not ascend Orïsha’s throne. All Amari wants is peace for her nation and for all the people to live together peaceably: maji, tîtáns and kosidán. But the Iyika, a band of rebel maji determined to eradicate all the royals and any tîtáns, have zero interest in Amari’s plans. They’d rather kill her where she stands, no matter that she arrives with Zélie, their proclaimed Soldier of Death, and Zélie’s brother/Amari’s love interest, Tzain. The Iyika want Zélie on the throne, though she has no interest for the title or responsibility. It is more than enough to become an Elder of the Ikú (or Reaper) Clan. What Zélie does want is to wreak vengeance upon someone she thought was dead and who caused her to lose someone she loved dearly. Her odium is so strong that it may rip a rift straight through her relationship with Amari, already tenuous since the white streak showed in Amari’s hair (marking her as a tîtán). Can the two bring the kingdom together or will they find themselves on opposite sides of a civil war?

            The intensity of this middle installment is vivid and relentless and to move slowly will surely get you trampled by a pride (is it a pride?) of lionaires. The story continues its track of extolling peace and concord while demonstrating the senselessness and, often, utter devastation of hate and vengeance. It moves quickly, but I won’t say it moves effortlessly. I hear that middle novels in trilogies are the worst to write, and I don’t think Adeyemi totally avoided that “syndrome.” Zélie’s vitriol is fueled by the loss of a loved one, for sure, but it’s also inflamed by love twisted. She’s a kid with the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders, and that’s the problem. She and Amari both act like kids instead of the young adults they should be growing up to be. Fortunately, the story remains complex and the world-building impressive. I’m looking toward a finale as vibrant as the first installment. I can overlook when the main protagonists frustrate me, because my interest is in the fate of Orïsha.

Rutabaga's Reads 2020: Part 4

Thanks to the ophthalmologist in the department I work in, I will have more than one adult fiction compilation this year. I may even have three, including this post containing only two books! Both of these books were lent to me by the ophthalmologist who has been to Moloka’i multiple times. When I read the first story, he hadn’t heard of the sequel. But then his wife received the sequel, and he generously sent the story my way once she finished it. (I hope he okayed that with his wife first.)

Moloka’i (Sept. 28, 2003) by Alan Brennert.

*Until last year, this was a standalone novel. Now, the first in a duology.*

In the early 1890s, Rachel Aouli Kalama is an energetic child on Oahu, reveling in the love of her parents, wading through the occasional tiff with a sibling (usually her older sister, Sarah) and looking toward her father’s stories from his travels as a merchant seaman. She knows only contentment, even when a rose-colored mark appears on her skin, naturally anesthetic, as no pain is felt within the mark. At the age of seven, Rachel is taken from her family and sent on a boat to Moloka’i. She is admitted to the leprosy settlement. She is determined not to like it there, especially when she cannot live with her uncle in Kalawao. She is sent to Bishop House and the care of Franciscan nuns like Mother Marianne and Sister Catherine.

            Rachel grows up in Kalaupapa (after a one-year stint in Kalihi, on Oahu). Despite her youthful declaration that she won’t like it there, she makes friends of her fellow quarantined comrades and, eventually, Sister Catherine. Her uncle and his partner, Haleola, make regular visits, which is a boon to Rachel, but hardest in her early days when they must leave after each visit. Contact with her family is through letters and packages from her father, and letters from her mother, once regular, are eventually returned without a forwarding address. Her father visits her a couple times, including when she takes the name Utagawa, but she’s never contacted or visited by any of her three siblings. As Rachel grows, she sees and understands all too well what it is to say goodbye to loved ones again and again. The story chronicles her life from youth to mature adulthood in a place not often talked about in an island chain often pictured as a lush, vibrant, go-to destination.

            While a work of adult historical fiction, this story reads as nonfiction, the characters a miasma of feelings and personalities. They are vividly-imagined and infused with vitality, compassion and laughter without skimping on or glossing over the pain of separation from loved ones, the contempt others might display toward them or the devastation of the disease, especially in its advanced stages. In a place seen as somewhere people go to die, it is on Moloka’i that they aim to live. Anyone who knows me knows this isn’t my usual type of bookish fare, but I admit that I was riveted. It’s powerful in a way that only an epic story can be. No matter that the story starts over a century ago, it radiates resonance and highlights the human spirit in its dazzling brilliance and, at other times, its dark depths. “Moloka’i” is compelling, captivating, emotional and magnificent. It is hopeful and forlorn, joyful and elegiac. It is a work of art through words.

Daughter of Moloka’i (Feb. 19, 2019) by Alan Brennert.

*This is the sequel in a duology.*

She doesn’t know it right away, but she is Ruth Dai Utagawa Watanabe Harada. Not all at once, but gradually. Ruth Utagawa is the daughter of lepers and spends some years at Kapi’olani Home for Girls on Oahu after her first year living in quarantine in the isolated settlement of Kalaupapa. She is adopted by Taizo and Etsuko Watanabe, Japanese Issei (first-generation Japanese nationals, born in Japan), who already have three boys: Haruo (or Horace, 14 years), Satoshi (or Stanley, 12 years) and Ryuu (or Ralph, 7 years). And a cat named Mayonaka (“midnight” in Japanese); cats are said to bring good luck. She becomes Ruth Dai Watanabe. They eventually move from Oahu to Florin, California, near Sacramento. California’s a state prejudiced against anyone who isn’t Caucasian. Ruth comes of age during the Great Depression, marrying Frank Harada. She is now Ruth Harada. Living in a state that seems to have more bigots than not (though they did have great Caucasian friends, especially in Jim and Helen Russell), one of those bigots comes in the form of Florin’s sheriff, Joseph Dreesen. When the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor and FDR’s Executive Order #9066 is ordered, the Haradas (including their young children Donnie and Peggy) and the Watanabes (including Uncle Jiro and Aunt Nishi) are forced from their homes, their businesses not so much sold as stolen by greedy grifters like carrion birds. They gaman (“endure the seemingly unbearable with patience and dignity”) through Tanforan Assembly Center and, later, Manzanar Relocation Center. Taizo is eventually sent to Tule Lake, much to the dismay of his family. When the Japanese are released in 1945, Ruth and her family must figure out how to start anew. Etsuko goes with them. Florin doesn’t settle with them, and they jump at an opportunity to move to San Jose, where Jim and Helen now live. Here they make their home and here is where Donnie and Peggy grow up. It’s here where Ruth will also meet Rachel Aouli Kalama Utagawa, the mother of her blood.

            It’s hard for a sequel to be as good as the first, and this one isn’t, but it is powerful and meaningful. It is a beacon for those who gaman, as well as a spotlight on the devastation people can bring on each other, even in a nation where the Pledge of Allegiance says “liberty and justice for all.” This is a work of realistic fiction, but again reads like nonfiction. It’s at turns hard to read and emotionally riotous, compelling and enriching. I both appreciated this novel and wanted to stop reading it because the big history of it could feel so maddening and overwhelming. It can be read as a standalone, but I’m glad I read “Moloka’i” first. Despite the upheaval of this novel, at its heart remains ‘ohana.

Rutabaga's Reads 2020: Part 3

Whenever I construct compilation posts, I save them under a nickname. This one had two nicknames. It’s my first middle-grade post of the year, but all three books are also from Rick Riordan Presents, an imprint of Disney-Hyperion Publishing. All of the stories within this imprint are mythology-based, though there is a good chance these mythologies may be unknown or slimly known by wider audiences (by this reader included). Considering they all have Rick Riordan’s approval, I have high expectations, and I was not disappointed.

Aru Shah and the End of Time (Mar. 27, 2018) by Roshani Chokshi.

*This is the first novel in a tetralogy.*

Truth-bender. A girl with an active imagination. In all honesty, 12-year-old Aru Shah is a liar, not out of a sense of meanness, but in a way that makes her life seem more prominent than it is. She boasts of things that are not, because she desires them to be. Aru and her mother, Dr. Krithika P. Shah, live in the Museum of Ancient Indian Art and Culture in Atlanta. Aru was always told she should never light the lamp, though she didn’t know why, so when she’s dared to light it, she does. In so doing, she awakes the Sleeper. Now, suddenly, she’s being berated by a very judgmental pigeon she christens Boo, and she has a soul-related sister (not blood-related) named Mini. It turns out that she and Mini are the reincarnations of two of the Pandava brothers (from the Mahabharata); there have never been Pandava sisters, and they are the soul-children of a major Hindu god. Those gods are: the Dharma Raja (the Lord of Death and Justice), Indra (the king of heaven, god of thunder and lightning), Vayu (god of the wind) and the Ashvins – Nasatya and Dasra (twin horsemen gods of medicine and healing who symbolize sunrise and sunset). They meet with Urvashi and Hanuman, members of the Council of Guardians (like a celestial board of directors). They are tasked with a quest to find the keys to the Kingdom of Death, which in turn will lead them to the celestial weapons. And they have to do all of this while preventing the Sleeper from getting the keys or the weapons. There’s also a time frame. Anywhere the Sleeper ventures, life is frozen in time (including Aru’s mom and Mini’s family). If they do not stop the Sleeper before the new moon (in nine days), they’ll be frozen forever. Saving the world from a forever freeze and death? Should be a cake walk, right? Ha. Ha. Ha.

            As soon as I began reading this story, I loved it. With Aru’s quick wit and sarcasm, this story reminds me of Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series (which I also love), albeit with a female lead character and a different mythology. The first in the Pandava series, Chokshi strikes fast with a roaring adventure and plenty of mythology to make someone’s head spin (and it’s likely not even the tip of the iceberg). The writing crackles with magic and is bright like lightning, and Aru takes to the quest as gracefully as a bull loose in a china shop while wearing Spider-Man pajamas. This first in Chokshi’s middle-grade debut (she has also written YA) is an absorbing, high-octane, fun and funny novel that seems to effortlessly intertwine Hindu mythology, simultaneously teaching and entertaining readers as the story runs along. Despite my lack of Hindu mythology knowledge, I connected quickly with this story, which includes lessons on family and friendship. Before I was done with this book, I’d ordered the second and pre-ordered the third! This book is great for fans of Rick Riordan and anyone who enjoys mythological tales.

            P.S. That Palace of Illusions, I would adopt it.

Dragon Pearl (Jan. 15, 2019) by Yoon Ha Lee.

*This is a standalone novel.*

Young gumiho (fox spirit in Korean mythology) Kim Min is 13 years old and has attacked an investigator with a saucepan (Disney’s Rapunzel would be so proud of her). Lest she be sent away to a remote village on the already desolate planet of Jinju that they reside on, Min runs away. The investigator accused her older brother, Jun, of desertion from his service aboard the Pale Lightning in the Space Forces. Min knows that Jun would never desert, and she is determined to find him. After surviving an attack by mercenaries, Min finds herself aboard the Pale Lightning and uses her fox gift to assume the form of Bae Jang, a Space Forces cadet who died in the attack (she did get Ghost Jang’s permission to use his persona as long as she finds out who killed him), as well as her gift of Charm to convince others that Jang lived while Min died. She finds friendship in Jang’s friends: Haneul, a female dragon, and Sujin, a non-binary dokkaebi (Korean goblin folk).

            Min is told that Jun deserted to go in search of the legendary Dragon Pearl, a mystical object rumored to have such tremendous power as to build up or destroy entire worlds. In the right hands, the Dragon Pearl could terraform an entire planet … or finish terraforming a planet, say, like Jinju. In the wrong hands, well, picture the destruction for yourself. Min’s research aboard a ship impersonating a cadet on the fly brings her investigation to Captain Hwan’s office. She doesn’t want to cross him, predatory tiger form that he is, but he is hiding something major. What does he know? Where is he hiding Jun? Can sister and brother reunite to explore the Thousand Worlds together (there aren’t actually a thousand worlds)?

            When one envisions Korean mythology, one probably doesn’t think space odyssey, but it works marvelously in Lee’s capable mind. The universal appeal of this story isn’t solely because it takes place in space, but in that Lee makes Korean mythology accessible to those who aren’t familiar with the folklore. There is complexity in the diverse personalities of the characters and the struggles within, be it that they stem from family, magic (or lack thereof), duty to the Space Forces or loyalty to friends. The mythology, plot and overall narrative are woven so well, that I think this story would appeal to guys, gals and those who are non-binary. I also wouldn’t flag this as being for middle-grade students only; adults shouldn’t dismiss this story. With magic, deception, sabotage, mercenaries (pretty much space pirates) and vengeful ghosts tied together with dynamic characters and a propulsive storyline, this adventure will appeal to a wide audience.

The Storm Runner (Sept. 18, 2018) by J.C. Cervantes.

*This is the first novel in a trilogy.*

There is a Beast in Zane Obispo’s backyard. It’s a volcano in New Mexico. Despite his leg (one is shorter than the other), Zane has explored his volcano countless times with his trusty dog, Rosie, eventually finding a secret entrance to the volcano. He’s at his first day at Holy Ghost Catholic School, where he manages to get sent to the headmaster’s office before the day’s done, and he meets Brooks. It turns out Brooks is a nawal (shapeshifter), and she’s there to warn him of great danger and a legendary prophecy. All of that Mayan mythology Zane enjoys reading? Turns out it’s real, and Ah-Puch, the Mayan god of death, darkness and destruction, really is as terrible as the stories say and exudes a stench just as putrid. It turns out that there’s a reason for Zane’s short leg, and it goes back to his birthfather. Looks like Mom left out a major detail or two, like the fact that his dad isn’t human?! Being a godborn should come with amazing powers, right? But all Zane can tell is that he can see really well in the dark, Ms. Cab (real name: Antonia Caballero) is a Seer who makes a very cranky chicken and Mr. O (Ortiz), well, there’s nothing magical about him, but he’s a hot pepper connoisseur. (If it can decommission a god or a godborn, might it have magical properties?) Without alerting his mom to the threat against his life, Zane leaves town with Brooks and Uncle Hondo (it’s okay, Hondo and Zane left a note). They meet Jazz-E (not to be confused with rapper Jay-Z), a descendant of the great Maya giants (but he comes from much better stock than Sipakna) who’s friends with Brooks, a couple of egotistical, beauty-obsessed, power-greedy godborn twins (who go by Jordan and Bird) and some gods. The gods don’t all stink: to name a few, there are the creator gods Hurakan and Kukumatz/Kukuulkaan and Ixtab, the goddess/caretaker of people who were sacrificed or died a violent death (though Ixtab does wear a garment whose hem is lined with teeth). When an “idiot bonehead” releases Ah-Puch from his prison, can Zane find a way to kill Ah-Puch before the other gods reach him? Because if Zane doesn’t, he’ll either become a soldier of death (pleasant) or go to Xib’alb’a, the Maya underworld and land of darkness, upon his impending death (probably better than becoming the Sinking One’s death soldier).

            As the headliner in a trilogy, this adventurous storm packs a gargantuan punch (or maybe that’s Jazz when he finds out you’re a godborn). The characters are relatable; they have their perceived flaws, as we have ours, and they don’t always make smart choices, same as us. Our very basic knowledge of Mayan mythology alights with this tale, told truthfully by Zane, because the magical paper he wrote on made it so and was provided by Itzam-yée’ (can see the three planes like Heimdall can see the nine worlds in Norse mythology, except Itzam is a bird deity). “The Storm Runner” is thrilling, witty and immersed with a noxious villain and his repulsive underlings (beware the slime the demon runners secrete; it is poisonous and will do terrible things to your clothes and skin). While I didn’t love this telling as much as anything from Rick Riordan or Roshani Chokski’s Aru Shah series, I found the spirit of this story to be entertaining as well as informative. Additionally, as a godborn of Ixkakaw, the goddess of chocolate, I expect to have access to the finest chocolate at a thought. Also, the calories and fat content won’t count.

The Positive Page-turner's Challenge: Take 10

Are there any takers for a Reading Day (or Weekend) with me once this stay-at-home order has been lifted? (This is not a joke.) Because that’s what I think I need to make a dent in the books on my TBR bookshelf. A leisurely day to throw on comfortable clothes and not worry about chores while reading whatever stockpile of books that I’ve got going on. Exception: Pet chores are allowed.

            Compared to the first months of last year, my book numbers are down. Personally disappointing, yes, but I’ve made it self-mandatory that I must work on my projects lists (they are numerous and time-consuming) and therefore cannot spend every spare moment reading (though I’d love to). As of this post, I’ve only managed to read 23 books in the past four months (plus one to start this month), which means 23 packages of bar soap (again, 8-10 bars per package). Last year, I sent over 150 pounds of bar soap to Haiti, and that’s not even all of it that I bought in 2019! (I had more, but didn’t have enough boxes to get it all boxed up.)

            As you know, for subsequent Positive Page-turner’s Challenges within a given year, I like to add a little extra to it. These books will all go toward the bar soap count once read (a given), and I’ve chosen to donate $5 for every book featured in this picture. With 17 books arranged, I’ll be donating $85. Instead of going to my home church, I am donating it to our local volunteer fire department. Myrtle Fire Department had to cancel their annual fundraiser due to the pandemic, and they want to purchase equipment to better and safely serve the community while keeping themselves protected as well.

            If you’re collecting donations or making items to donate, share in the Comments what you’re doing and for which organization(s). If you’re focusing on helping others during the COVID-19 pandemic or if you’re on the front lines, share here. Let’s continue to spread the message of charity and compassion, and let’s grant support however we’re able!