Next Page Books Posts Poems, Celebrity Love for Chaucer's Books. Island Books Chalkboard, The Birth of Sesame Street, The Only Woman in the Room by Marie Benedict, The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune, Brownies and Broomsticks by Bailey Cates,and Mercy House by Alena Dillon

A bookstore in my home state of Iowa has improvised a quarantine version of National Poetry Month. In these uncertain times, I am grateful that so many people are ordering books and puzzles and food online, to be delivered to people's homes, so the stores themselves benefit by still having employees and money coming in, and people benefit by getting goods that they need to keep from going bananas during the Coronavirus crisis.

Although April is National Poetry Month, "due to circumstances beyond our control, we've had to change our plans for how best to celebrate," Next Page Books http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz43884317, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, noted in a Facebook post. "So, beginning tomorrow and continuing every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday through April, we will post a different poem in our storefront window for folks to read while out for their daily dose of fresh air. We ask for your cooperation with observing appropriate social distancing so, please, no crowding in front of the store. Oh! And feel free to share a favorite poem with us, too!"

I love that these celebs are supportive of their local bookstore!

A Little Celebrity Love for Chaucer's Books in Calif.

Chaucer's Bookstore http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz43944696, Santa Barbara, Calif., shared a little love it received from loyal customers http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz43944697 actress/producer Julia Louis-Dreyfus and her writer/director/producer husband, Brad Hall, who wrote:

"It's easier to buy books than to read them. We look at all the unread volumes on our shelves: the thrilling thrillers, the thick biographies, the sentimental 19th century novels, the Mann Booker short-listers! Look them all! We ask ourselves if were we fools to purchase so blithely? We wonder when on earth will we have a chance to read all of these?

"And then comes the Corona. Gee whiz. We are blessed to be isolating here in Santa Barbara with the mountain paths calling, the beaches beckoning. We are grateful to our local health professionals and essential workers--and look who turns out to be really essential. Seeing the true worth of the labors of these wonderful people, perhaps we can now and forever pay them accordingly?

"And while counting our Santa Barbara blessings, we get back to those books on our shelves, bought on impulse, or for the jacket cover, or because Pico Iyer was going to interview the author at UCSB. What do they all have in common? Chaucer's! We bought nearly all of them at Chaucer's. That Chaucer's is essential is one thing upon which every Santa Barbarian can agree. Don't we all look forward to once again sitting on the floor over at the 'S' shelf of the fiction section re-reading a piece of an Elizabeth Strout book as a fellow customer reaches over us saying, 'Excuse me, just need to grab that Steinbeck...?' That day will come soon enough, and until then, we have those shelves.... Stay safe and cozy."

 Here's a tidbit from one of my favorite bookstores of all time, Island Books on Mercer Island. I miss it desperately!

Chalkboard: Island Books

"Thank you all for reading from afar... http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz43975480" reads the chalkboard at Island Books http://www.shelf-awareness.com/ct/uz3642037Biz43975481 Mercer Island, Wash. The bookstore noted: "This says it all. We are forever grateful for your ongoing support. We love our Island Books community, the MI community and bookstore friends far and wide."

I remember when Sesame Street debuted on TV, and though I was "too old" for such a babyish program, I came to love a lot of the shows that followed in its wake, like Schoolhouse Rock and Zoom. I will try to find a paperback copy of this book when it comes out, because I am sure it's fascinating reading. BTW, I did grow up watching Captain Kangaroo and the local equivalent, Duane Ellot and Floppy (a dog puppet).

Book Review

Review: Sunny Days: The Children's Television Revolution that Changed America

The scene was set: in the 1960s, it was recognized that young children of color weren't keeping up academically with their white peers, and new studies were showing that the preschool years were more developmentally critical than educators had previously realized. Meanwhile, with the right enticement, toddlers were proving themselves capable of seemingly effortless learning. As Children's Television Workshop (CTW) cofounder Joan Ganz Cooney puts it in David Kamp's enchanting Sunny Days: The Children's Television Revolution that Changed America, "Every child in America was singing beer commercials. Now, where had they learned beer commercials?"

In galloped Cooney and her team of visionaries to harness the power of television to address the learning gap between inner-city children and their white counterparts. Having secured both corporate and government funding and the services of a brilliant young puppeteer named Jim Henson, the CTW, working out of New York City, created Sesame Street, whose quick cuts and wowie-zowie vibe was filched from the popular sketch-comedy show Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In. Cooney and her collaborators, who saw Sesame Street as experimental, weren't convinced that the show would last more than one season.

Not only was Sesame Street an out-of-the-gate hit that featured television's first truly multicultural cast, but research suggested that kids who watched the show were indeed learning their ABCs and 123s. Other programs, segments and specials seeking to teach children academic basics and self-esteem-building skills followed, on public and commercial television, with the CTW's imprimatur and without it. Kamp covers the better known among these efforts, including The Electric Company, Zoom and Schoolhouse Rock! (He also honors the ground-laying work of Bob "Captain Kangaroo" Keeshan and, of course, Fred Rogers, who, it must be said, was no fan of Sesame Street's pacing and pratfalls.) By the time Free to Be... You and Me aired in 1974, "the Sesame Street model was now the paradigm," writes Kamp, "and the media literacy of small children was a given."

For readers of a certain generation, Sunny Days will have a thrilling flashback effect, like a fizzy nostalgia drink, and the book's archival photos only enhance the time-tripping experience. For millennial readers, Sunny Days will be both a captivating glimpse at a revolutionary time and a blueprint for what's possible with a little seed money, civic-mindedness, feathers and glue. --Nell Beram, author and freelance writer

Here are my latest reviews (I have 20 new books that I will be reviewing in the coming months, so stay tuned!)

The Only Woman in the Room by Marie Benedict is the story of Hedy Lamarr, an Austrian actress who escaped her Nazi munitions manufacturing husband and a guilded cage of wealth and abuse, to come to America and star in movies here, where she became famous for her beauty, but not for her brilliance. Here's the blurb:

She possessed a stunning beauty. She also possessed a stunning mind. Could the world handle both?
Her beauty almost certainly saved her from the rising Nazi party and led to marriage with an Austrian arms dealer. Underestimated in everything else, she overheard the Third Reich's plans while at her husband's side, understanding more than anyone would guess. She devised a plan to flee in disguise from their castle, and the whirlwind escape landed her in Hollywood. She became Hedy Lamarr, screen star.
But she kept a secret more shocking than her heritage or her marriage: she was a scientist. And she knew a few secrets about the enemy. She had an idea that might help the country fight the Nazis...if anyone would listen to her.
A powerful novel based on the incredible true story of the glamour icon and scientist whose groundbreaking invention revolutionized modern communication, The Only Woman in the Room is a masterpiece.

Though there is sexist nonsense even in the above blurb (why wouldn't a woman be "able to handle" how she looks, which is something she has little control over, and her sharp and inventive mind? Have men cornered the market on being handsome and also having a brain??) I was still expecting to find that Lamarr's genius ideas and intel on the Nazis would be used to help the war effort...so I was surprised that the idiot men in charge couldn't allow her ideas and inventions to be used merely because she was a woman, and they felt that male egos were more important than saving soldiers lives and shortening the war by helping allied forces win. Still, eventually Lamar's ideas were used in the development of cell phone towers and signals, and other aspects of modern life. I fully believe this is a story that needs to be told, and that kids should read in high school. The prose is muscular and the plot sleek and strong. I enjoyed this book, and feel it merits an A, while I'd recommend it to anyone who wants to learn about the hidden history of WWII.

The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune is an utterly delightful fantasy novel that reminded me of the early Harry Potter books and Gail Carriger's Finishing School series with a touch of Douglas Adams and The Orville (Seth McFarlane's awful SF TV show,but it had some magical characters that were similar to the ones in the book). I'd heard nothing but glowing praise of the novel, and I generally find that books that get a lot of good ink are disappointing. Not so with Klune's masterwork. It was funny, poignant and uplifting.  Here's the blurb:

Linus Baker is a by-the-book case worker in the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. He's tasked with determining whether six dangerous magical children are likely to bring about the end of the world.
Arthur Parnassus is the master of the orphanage. He would do anything to keep the children safe, even if it means the world will burn. And his secrets will come to light.
The House in the Cerulean Sea is an enchanting love story, masterfully told, about the profound experience of discovering an unlikely family in an unexpected place—and realizing that family is yours.
"1984 meets The Umbrella Academy with a pinch of Douglas Adams thrown in." —Gail Carriger, New York Times bestselling author of Soulless

Klune's beautiful prose flows effortlessly through the elegant and engrossing plot. It was a page-turner that kept me reading from dawn til dusk.  I fell in love with each of the magical children, and with their guardian Arthur the Phoenix. Linus left me a bit cold, especially at first, but I warmed to him as the book went on, though I still felt that it took him too long to develop a backbone and stand up to the bullies at DICOMY, which is kind of like the Ministry of Magic from the Harry Potter books. The fact that the book is diverse and inclusive is just icing on the cake. This is one of those books that has me pleading with the author for more...and soon, please! I'd give it an A, and recommend it to anyone who loves fantasy novels that are magical and supportive of the LBGTQ community.

Brownies and Broomsticks by Bailey Cates is the first in a mass market paperback series of "Magical Bakery Mysteries." It should be noted that this book was my "emergency purse paperback" that I keep with me in my handbag in case I'm caught somewhere without ready reading material. Since I was encouraged not to bring anything with me that I couldn't easily disinfect when I went in for my latest Remicade infusion, I was sitting with my IV, waiting for the antihistamine to kick in and take me to napland when I remembered that I had this book stashed deep in my purse, which hadn't been excavated for well over a year. It proved to be, like it's title, a sweet and easy-reading treat...just what the doctor ordered! Here's the blurb: Katie Lightfoot's tired of loafing around as the assistant manager of an Ohio bakery. So when her aunt Lucy and uncle Ben open a bakery in Savannah's quaint downtown district and ask Katie to join them, she enthusiastically agrees.

While working at the Honeybee Bakery—named after Lucy's cat—Katie notices that her aunt is adding mysterious herbs to her recipes. Turns out these herbal enhancements aren't just tasty—Aunt Lucy is a witch and her recipes are actually spells!

When a curmudgeonly customer is murdered outside the Honeybee Bakery, Uncle Ben becomes the prime suspect. With the help of handsome journalist Steve Dawes, charming firefighter Declan McCarthy, and a few spells, Katie and Aunt Lucy stir up some toil and trouble to clear Ben's name and find the real killer.

While the main character, Katie, is one of those stubborn, fiesty but adorable dumb bunnies that are ubiquitous in cozy mysteries and romance novels, I still enjoyed her persistence in finding the killer and in learning to accept that she's a hedgewitch from a long line of witches. The prose is easy-breezy, and the plot light as a feather, but though I knew whodunit long before the end, I enjoyed the journey just the same. I'd give this book a B, and recommend it to anyone looking for a mental palate-cleanser after reading a more serious novel.

Mercy House by Alena Dillon is a brilliant, gritty and gutsy novel that I would put in the literary fiction/feminist fiction genres, and I'd hope that anyone over the age of 40 would read, especially those of the Catholic faith (this would be an excellent book to hand out at private/parochial schools to all the young girls attending). It's the story of Evelyn, a nun who was brutally raped when she was a novitiate, who has worked at Mercy House for the past 40 years of her life, ministering to the sexually abused/assaulted young women who show up at her door seeking help and healing.When the priest who raped her all those years ago comes swooping in to try and close down Mercy House, Sister Evelyn and her fellow sisters and abuse survivors must think of ways to keep this much needed facility open. Here's the blurb:

“Never underestimate the power of a group of women. Fierce, thoughtful and dramatic—this is a story of true courage." —Susan Wiggs, New York Times bestselling author
She would stop at nothing to protect the women under her care.
Inside a century-old row house in Brooklyn, renegade Sister Evelyn and her fellow nuns preside over a safe haven for the abused and abandoned. Gruff and indomitable on the surface, warm and wry underneath, little daunts Evelyn, until she receives word that Mercy House will be investigated by Bishop Hawkins, a man with whom she shares a dark history. In order to protect everything they’ve built, the nuns must conceal many of their methods, which are forbidden by the Catholic Church.
Evelyn will go to great lengths to defend all that she loves. She confronts a gang member, defies the church, challenges her own beliefs, and faces her past. She is bolstered by the other nuns and the vibrant, diverse residents of the shelter—Lucia, Mei-Li, Desiree, Esther, and Katrina—whose differences are outweighed by what unites them: they’ve all been broken by men but are determined to rebuild.
Amidst her fight, Evelyn discovers the extraordinary power of mercy and the grace it grants, not just to those who receive it, but to those strong enough to bestow it.

This novel reminded me of the feminist literature I read in college, and of the prose of Icons like Margaret Atwood (the Handmaid's Tale), where we see the reality of how women are treated like sexual slaves and playthings for men, and then discarded or beaten and left to die (or outright murdered by controlling and abusive men). The fact that any women survive and go on to help others is a minor miracle, and speaks to the tough female spirit that thrives within us. The book highlights the intrinsic need for women to retain and have access to reproductive rights, so they can have necessary abortions after years of mistreatment, rape and incest. Dillon weaves in actual headlines and stories about nuns being repeatedly raped by priests and offered no care or assistance when they became pregnant. Sister Evelyn and the other nuns reminded me of the BVM sisters of charity who used to run Clarke College, now Clarke University. They were a radical bunch of talented and whip-smart women who often disagreed with the policies of the Vatican and the Pope. Now Clarke is under secular control of a man, and the nuns are almost all retired, and they've recently instituted sports programs for male students only, so Clarke is no longer a sanctuary for women's education, unfortunately. At any rate, though it was not an easy read, and the plot didn't move as fast as it could have, I'd still give this book a B+ and recommend it to anyone who is Catholic or has been a victim of abuse, sexual or otherwise, especially at the hands of clergy.