1 comments about Growing Up Harley-Davidson: Memoirs of a Motorcycle Dynasty.

1. This book proves that dreams due come true. The book Growing Up Harley Davidson is about the life of a family whos dream came true one day. It also shows that dreams come true even if the odds of doing so aren't so great. The book proves that if two minds are working together that anything is possible. However, this book showed along with this is a lot of time and money. This book first caught my eye because it envolved a family environment. It talked about in great detail about each generation of the family receiving it and the changes they made to make it better. The most interesting part of this book was at the ending chapters. It discussed the selling and of the buyback of the Harley Davidson Company. This was interesting to me because during that time of the selling the qualtiy of the motorcycles were going dowm along with the families dreams. I would recomend this book to anyone who is interested in learning more about Harley Davidson Motorcycles.

1 comments about Childhood's Thief: One Woman's Journey of Healing from Sexual Abuse.

1. 10 stars! I recently purchased a used copy of this book since it is sadly out of print and just finished reading it. It was RIVETING. The story of "JoAnn's" childhood is told in alternating chapters between her writings and her therapist's. Instead of focusing on the horrors of JoAnn's childhood, and there were many, the story instead focuses on what saved JoAnn. It is also not about a mushy relationship between therapist and client, rather the story of an extraordinary woman who overcomes unbearable childhood conditions to grow up to be a woman who completely repressed her childhood in order to survive it. When she sets out to work on herself in therapy, what she uncovers is spellbinding. This is not the story of how a gifted and extraordinarily caring therapist drew a woman out of her shell, but rather the story of a gifted and motivated client who was determined to do all the hard work herself to overcome and remember her past. There is no other book like this that I have come across that focuses more on the client being the real hero of the story. A BIG THANK YOU to the therapist for writing JoAnn's story down. It has SO MUCH to share!!
   
   I read nearly every book on childhood abuse that's out there and then I give the books away when I'm done reading them. I'm keeping this one though. This one is a piece of literature. Excellent writing. INCREDIBLE story. (Made into a movie called the Secret Path with Della Reese, I just learned after googling the author).

5 comments about The Tiger Ladies: A Memoir of Kashmir (Bluestreak).

1. When the author of this novel was a little girl, she had one horizon: to learn the domestic duties of a Hindu girl growing up in Kashmir, to have a suitable marriage arranged for her, and then to produce children for her family. Through the course of her life, changes in the broader world--especially India--led her to college and then to a career. It was only later, in the course of her work life, that she surprised herself and relieved her despairing parents by finding a suitable husband.
   
   That is the sketch of the story's structure, but of course everything is in the details: the houses they lived in, the places her family went on vacation, relations with her (mostly Moslem) neighbors; the transition from a feudal culture to the rudiments of democracy. Later, the almost dreamlike peace and natural beauty of her homeland became transformed by the beginnings of sectarian hatred--fostered by non-Kashmiris--and the resultant suspicion between formerly good neighbors. Her story is not just one of cultural change but also of conflict and suffering, but this book is by no means a tragedy. She and her husband eventually moved to the United States and raised their chidren here. Their lives have been good, by almost any measure...yet, she never has completely left her original love for her birth land. This is a touching and informative book, one that you will find intriguing and touching.



2. Most of this book is thoroughly engrossing. It is a memory, pure and simple. No attempt to analyze or rationalize, just a statement of life as it was, full of detail, painting the picture of an idyllic life with no fear of the future, not questioning any facet of existence, as a child views the world. As an insight into life in Kashmir at a certain period of time, it was a lovely portal, and certainly lends poignancy to all that appears in the news as to the wars that rage in the region.The beauty and richness of her culture and the family warmth that were hers shine through every page.
   
   If the book had ended with her life in Kashmir, it would have been a beautiful book, but it continues on to detail a stereotypical immigrant existence in America. The author appears as a particularly impotent mother and representative of her culture. And in one very ironic paragraph, she refers to cultures that have been wiped out (native Americans) so that she might now occupy their place, but declares this a natural cycle, while at the same time lamenting the loss of her culture as an irretrievable tragedy. The childishness lingering into adulthood is not as appealing a read.
   
   Overall, though, the loss of momentum at the end does not change the fact that it is a wonderfully vivid and captivating memoir and probably is a testimony to a lost way of life.



3. A good read for second generation Kashmiri Americans. The details were of interest, since of course its a world that Kashmiri-Americans of second generation will not get a chance to see. It's the kind of book I'd like to read with a Kashmiri close at hand to find out if the details are authentic (and not catered to the audience), and the experience universal. A unique find, though, since it's unclear how many books can tackle life in Himalayan valleys from the inside. Validates that Kashmiri pandits deserve and need to contribute to their own body of literature, write their own histories rather than relinquish that right to historians.



4. A beautifully written book of the Kashmir valley before the invasion of the Mujahadin and other Muslim terrorist actions from outside the peaceful valley of peaceful coexistence amongst the Kashmiri Hindus and Kashmiri Muslims. Ms. Koul, a former Indian majistrate with a Masters in Political Science from India writes a book for her children to learn of the beautiful life in Kashmir where young soon to be bethrothed women view Pashmina wool embroidered shawl samples dating back 100 years. The samples are easily viewed and ordered from the Kashmiri Muslim merchant who then continues the Pashmina relationship with the daughter or granddaughter's trousseau.
   Ms. Koul effectly evokes a resplendant memoir without the heavy hand of serious political analysis which tends to be dry and flacid. A life too beautiful, too luscious, too happy, too comfortable to notice the cloak of darkness that would envelope paradise.
   After attending her reading and purchasing Tiger Ladies, I am excited to add it to my collection of important soul books: The Red Tent, Woman Warrier, Autobiography of a Yogi and Facing Two Ways. Kashmir may be a memory of what once existed in a valley of Lotus eaters yet Ms. Koul's book concludes with a simile in the complacency of life in the US where life too is too comfortable, too beautiful, and perhaps too happy for Americans. (Incidentally written before 9.11.2001.) Which perhaps helps us to realize that there is yet another cloak of darkness enveloping us called American corporate imperialism ...product invasion via Hollywood, gasoline consumption, mass consumerism of junk products, junk food, junk tv, junk religion, junk politicians and the reaction against it by the Mujahadins of the Muslim world. Now in paperback form, this book is a respite from the propaganda on evening news in America.



5. A lovely and bittersweet memoir of Koul's life in paradise, the Kashmir region of India. It's a tale of a lost way of life in a region that has been sundered by strife, conflict, and ultimately war between India and Pakistan, Hindus and Muslims.
   Of especial interest is the reverence in which women of the region were held - in a country in which women are often no more than chattel. The Tiger Ladies is a book rich in sensual detail, a book people can enjoy on many levels: as travel literature, as a cultural study, for the descriptions of the food - and most of all as a loving and haunting memoir of a time and place that no longer exist.

1 comments about Cowboy Princess: Life with My Parents Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.

1. who enriched our lives over five decades.
   
   Cheryl Rogers Barnett has truly written a memoir full of Love, Respect, and Admiration for her late parents, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. She writes of the people they were, before she was born, the circumstances of her adoption - yes, Cheryl was adopted by Roy and his first wife - and growing up in the Rogers-Evans* (Roy's first wife died while Cheryl was still a young pre-adolescent child, Dale lovingly took her on as her own) household. Roy, bless his soul, was in many ways, a real cowboy who eschewed the Hollywood lifestyle and could live in the great outdoors - in fact one of their early homes out at Lake Hughes was in a wooded setting - with rattlesnakes! Knowing that this wouldn't work, Roy moved in closer to Los Angeles, but always made sure that his children were grounded and did not have airs about them.
   
   Barnett writes about her growing-up in the Rogers-Evans household, and in reading it one kind of wishes that too were put of a family that truly lived by the Cowboy Code. Roy and Dale were among the kindest folks one could ever meet, and I sure wish I did. Both Roy and Dale were unfailing kind and considerate to most people they met. It speaks volumes that in the one instance Roy ever got angry at fans was when they chose to want to visit him on the day they were burying Cheryl's little sister, Robin, and only AFTER these uncouth and rude people insisted in visiting him, having no consideration for the grief of the family.
   
   She writes of the wonder horse Trigger, of how George "Gabby" Hayes was as different in real life as he was in the movies. Gabby, bless him, was a trained Shakespearian actor who was more accustomed to wearing tweed suits than a bandana and chaps - still, he too made the roles his very own. There are the Hollywood stories and vignettes of growing up knowing John Wayne and so many other Western heroes and other television and movie celebs, written straightforward, (the reader will never have the feeling that this book is a gossipy read) of Nudie the Famous Rodeo Tailor whom Roy helped to get established in Hollywood, and finally of the last decades when Roy and Dale, seeing how different Hollywood had become (mid-1960s), chose to move out to Apple Valley, and live out their lives there.
   
   Throughout it all, Roy and Dale always gave deep love to the people they knew, and encouraged their children to be the best and fine folks in their own right(after learning she was adopted, Cheryl underwent a quest to learn about her real parents, with Roy and Dale supporting her every way). With the happiness there were the tragedies, first Robin, then the young son who died serving in the U.S. Army, and the adopted daughter from Korea, killed in a senseless road accident. Throughout it all, Roy and Dale's faith in God was never unwavering and was always solid. They lived the true meaning of the Cowboy and Cowgirl Codes.*
   
   *(on their very last record together, Roy, Dale and son Dusty recorded a song written by two great friends of mine, Chris Hillman and Steve Hill entitled: "God's Plan" ...that pretty well sums up the honest and rich meaning of the lives they lived.
   
   A warm memoir of a time when the tinsel Cowboys were so very much real - and real people too, unlike the sad imitation that Hollywood has become these days. Thank you, Cheryl Rogers-Barnett for a heartwarming read, and for signing my Roy Rogers-Dale Evans lunchpail in Wickenburg, Arizona last April.

5 comments about She's All Eyes: Memoirs of an Irish-American Daughter (Reading Group Guides).

1. I found this memoir to be very moving. The last 1/2 to 1/4 of the book I read without stopping. I got a hint that maybe, another book may come out. I understood this author with all her family dynamics that she writes so well about. I especially understood her feelings when she spoke about her father. I will look for second memoir from this author--so far I haven't seen any; but hopefully she will still write one.



2. This is a great story! Being the daughter of an agent myself, I could relate. The author does a terrific story of bringing you back into time and seeing events occur through a child's eyes.
   I stayed up to read this book in one night. I truly recommend this book.



3. "FBI Girl" is not about the FBI. Nor is it, really, about Maura Conlon-McIvor's father in his role as an FBI agent. It is, instead, a memoir of the childhold of an Irish-American girl attempting to understand her non-communicative, somewhat dysfunctional father, and loving and caring for her Down's Syndrome brother. This brother, Joey, and Maura's exceptionally warm mother, are the glue that holds this family together.
   
   It is a testament to Maura's parents that when their severely-retarded son Joey was born, they did not put him into an institution, which would have been common in the mid-1960s. Maura herself is fiercely protective of Joey, and believes that anyone without a Down's syndrome child in the family is missing something. This is an attitude shared by her father, who believes that the developmentally disabled are really the smart ones and the so-called "normal" people are ignorant. When you read about some of the reactions of the Conlon's neighbors (which range from shock, to avoidance, to guilty stares, to embarrassment and, occasionally, caring and compassion), you don't doubt that this is true.
   
   Maura has a bigger problem, however, communicating with her father who, in her eyes, speaks in some sort of code. Joe Conlon obviously loves his five children, and his love is demonstrated by doing things, rather than talking (whenever Conlon does not want to answer a question, he changes the subject entirely.) Maura believes, incorrectly, that Joe Conlon's job as an FBI special agent precludes him from talking about anything substantive. In fact, as Maura discovers, Conlon's behavior was nothing learned at Quantico or ordered by J. Edgar Hoover.
   
   The story warmly evokes 1960s Los Angeles. Maura Conlon lived with with her parents, sister and three brothers in an unidentified suburb of Los Angeles (20 minutes from Disneyland and 40 minutes from Hollywood.) The name of the suburb doesn't matter -- whether it's Downey or Fullerton or Los Alamitos or West Covina or Azusa, or any one of the other suburbs that run into one another in this part of the world, the story would be the same. It is hilarious, however, to read about young Maura playing Nancy Drew, writing down license plate numbers and desperately looking for high intrigue in this bland world of tract homes.
   
   What is also relevant is Maura's religious Catholic upbringing, which provides Maura with a strong faith, a strict way to live, and more than a few interesting stories. A less salutory aspect is that Maura grows up strictly differentiating between "Catholics" and "publics," believing, among other things, that public school kids put drugs in the mustard and ketchup bottles. This belief is proven false when Maura herself goes to public school, with the backing of her former teacher, a nun.
   
   Above all, this is the story of a painfully shy, highly imaginative girl who finally finds her own voice. Maura Conlon-McIvor has a compelling story to tell, which is well worth reading. As a contemporary of the author, I enjoyed the 1960s references, which took me back to my youth. Yet Maura Conlon-McIvor's story is unique. I think it gives a greater understanding of living with and loving the disabled than anything I've read thus far. Although it is somewhat less satisfying in addressing the author's father, it is definitely a worthwhile read.



4. FBI father, Catholic school nuns, big family, sixties-seventies, Downs-syndrome child...I expected yet another story of growing up stifled in the suburbs, with some illicit sex and scandal.
   
   In fact, Conlon-McIver describes a remarkably functional family, bound together by an amazing generosity of spirit. Fascinated by her father's career and her Nancy Drew books, she remembers keeping a log that includes every neighbor's license plate. She wants her father to bring home stories of exciting crimes he solved.
   
   Reviewers have focused Maura's father, Joe, who refused to talk about his work and in fact didn't talk much at all. However, linguist Deborah Tannen has written about the differences in male and female communication styles and John Gray reminds us that men are from Mars. Men just don't want to talk about "my day at work." Like Joe Conlon, they communicate through action.
   
   Reading between the lines, Joe was trained as a lawyer. Although he carried a gun and badge, he probably worked in offices, pushing paper rather than chasing bad guys. He might have been assigned to white collar crime. Here's a clue: he came home regularly for supper nearly every day. So there probably weren't a whole lot of exciting stories to tell.
   
   And we should note that he didn't brush off Maura's questions with ridicule: he just changed the subject. Once he even shared a "trick" of looking out the rear view mirror, probably acquired from another agent who was more active in actual criminal pursuit.
   
   Joe took his kids out to play baseball on Saturday afternoons (another clue: bad guys don't work nine to five weekdays). He even built a ball field. He did chores around the house, apparently without complaint, everything from changing diapers to folding laundry and mowing lawns.
   
   Most significantly, he didn't withdraw when his last child, Joey, was born with Down's syndrome. Joe not only remained a caring father, but also raised significant funds for a group home for other developmentally disabled children.
   
   Maura's mother, a former beauty queen, never seems too tired or impatient to spend time with her five children. She's creative and playful, sensitive to Maura's need to attend public school rather than continue to an all-girls Catholic high school.
   
   However, the mother's ideas seem more progressive than her cooking. The family dinner table seems more fifties than sixties. I have to admit I admired the way they managed to stay slim and healthy while eating endless servings of processed, high-carbohydrate food.
   
   And the children seem remarkably unselfish, as they pitch in to care for Joey resisting stares and embarrassment. This family learned the joy of living with a developmentally disabled child in a time, place and social environment where those attitudes were hardly commonplace.
   
   Even the nuns are remarkably benevolent; one fussy teacher who complains about Maura's E's in handwriting class, but she melts as she learns more about Maura.
   
   Because the book focuses so intently on family, it's hard to get a sense of the role of friends in Maura's early life. She mentions being neglected by the popular girls but we don't get episodes of real meanness or of the close friendships young girls typically develop.
   
   Now comes the challenge: How does Maura Conlon-McIver keep the pages turning while describing a happy childhood? She's not sticky or sentimental. She tells the story with crisp sentences, studded with original metaphors. Most importantly, Conlon-McIvor paces the story as if she were writing a novel, no easy task when writing a memoir.
   
   Toward the end, she reports a tragedy that scars what should have been a happy climax to her grade school years. And she ends on a bittersweet note, growing aware of her talents but also her family's unspoken conflicts.
   
   I once heard a psychologist speak about families on the basis of real research rather than myths. He claimed that families held together based on what they didn't say, rather than on openness. Perhaps it is the unrealistic expectation of free-flowing communication that harms families, rather than the actual silence. And maybe the Conlon household wasn't perfect, but I bet a lot of people would have gladly traded places with any member of that family.
   
   



5. I found FBI Girl to be both touching and unforgettable. Conlon-McIvor's adeptness at describing the details of her youth will resonate with anyone who grew up in "suburbia" in the '60's and '70's. I felt like I was at the dinner table, in the FBI car and in the classroom along with young Maura as she navigated her way through her quiet childhood. Her book reminds us that sometimes the quietest amongst us have the most to say. How lucky for us that she found her "voice" and shares it with us through this loving memoir to her family. This story will stay with you for a long time.

3 comments about The Sunflower Sinner.

1. Cynthia Dennis' incredibly poignant, witty and descriptive writing took me on an emotional journey. This vivid, bittersweet memoir captivated me. I look forward to reading future works from this talented author.



2. A blurb on the back of the book suggests that the reviewer " couldn't lay the book down". I had the same experience, finishing just half in one siting and for lack of time reluctanly putting off to the next day reading the balance. Here is a dysfuntional family on the order of the one filling the pages of The Glass Castle. The telling of this story reflects truth and honesty and results in tale that would do justice to a novel of outright improbable ficton There is real author's talent showing in this first novel by Dennis.



3. Sunflower Sinner wraps us into a rising political career from the outside- the man himself - Paul Lackie-- and from the inside, all the required family support mechanisms --loyalty, appearance, self-sacrifice. Even without the elements of murder, bribery and disgrace, it's hard to believe that any ambition can exist without creating dysfunction in any group of people supposed to be based primarily on love.
   
   The confusion and loyalty have a profound effect on his oldest daughter, Cynthia. Dennis excellently depicts a child's intense feeling and wishful thinking about the events to lift her father into the governorship. As this 2008 campaign escalates, the Sunflower Sinner will make you think more deeply about the families that must bend to the candidate's ambition.

5 comments about The Growing Seasons: An American Boyhood Before the War.

1. I was hooked from line one of this book. Hynes' simple and direct style of writing quickly whisks you back 70-plus years and tells you -shows you - how it was. And it wasn't easy for Sam Hynes either, orphaned at an early age and moving from place to place, being farmed out and coping with a step-mother. But in spite of all this, you also get a sense of the fun of being a boy in the midwest during the depression. Kids don't always know when they're poor; they're too busy learning and experiencing things and trying to get the most out of every day. The sequel to The Growing Seasons is equally good: Flights of Passage. I wish Sam would continue his personal story and tell us what happened after he came home from the war. I do know from talking with him that he was back in the Marines during Korea. There's gotta be another great story in there somewhere. If you're from the midwest and love good storytelling, read this book. Hell, you don't have to be midwestern. It's just darn good writing. - Tim Bazzett, author of Soldier Boy: At Play in the ASA



2. First of all, this is a very enjoyable book. I wanted to read this because my Father grew up in the Midwest during this time frame in a similar city. While he did grow up under very different financial circumstances, I was interested in exploring the every day experiences that a young boy would live through.
   The book is excellently written and vividly tracks a boys life in a world few can ever understand if you did not live during the Depression Era of the '30's. This being said, the book left me with many questions.
   
   His brother Chuck is hardly mentioned at all. Why? Dr. Hynes does not really go into how well, or badly he did at school. That would have been interesting. What happend to the boy that ran the girl over with his car. His friends were not the kind of kids I would want my children hanging around with. It is amazing he did not do some time in reform school. I also would have liked to have known at the end, what happened to his Father and Stepmother as well as his Stepsisters.
   
   Anyway, it was fun to read and I surely learned more about this time than I ever did in History classes.
   
   I hope that you will enjoy it.



3. The now storied "Greatest Generation" did not come full-blown into glory. It evolved from childhood, and Samuel Hynes' gentle, understated and illuminating memoir, "The Growing Seasons," assists in our understanding of how the generation that fought and won World War II came to be. Fiercely independent, perpetually inquisitive and unabashedly self-conscious, Samuel Hynes comes of age in America's heartland during the Great Depression. His story, crafted with gentle humor and exquisite detail, gains transcendence and slowly emerges as a representation of millions of youngsters grappling with the age-old obligation of developing an identity, but doing so in an era of frayed innocence and material dispossession.

   Loss and impermanence permeate Hynes' childhood. His father stoically accepts the death of his wife, unemployment as a result of a contracting economy and his own inability to serve the nation he so deeply loves. This unspoken patriotism and sense of place nurture the young Hynes, who never overcomes the gaping wound of losing his mother to a premature death. Motherloss uproots the Hynes' family; the father swallows prejudice and remarries a Catholic and Samuel begins the process of healing and carrying on with life.

   While his father settles into his second family, Hynes spends a summer on a farm. The city boy discovers new cadences to life, a different pattern to work. Most importantly, Samuel gains a sense of his own past. "For one season I had been one, like my father...and all those other country people in our family." With solemn pride, Hynes announces, "I had been my ancestors." With this knowledge of self, Hynes is better able to comprehend the modernizing influences besetting his altered family in Minneapolis during the 1930s.

   There, he observes his father's deep ambivalence over labor violence. A Shell oil salesman, the father is a rock-ribbed Republican who extols the virtue of independence and responsibility. Yet, the father "despised the upper-class ways" of the elite. Samuel watches his father's despair increase. "Whoever won this war, something he believed in would lose. It was sad, losing like that, and I felt his sadness."

   Tempering Samuel's growing awareness of the world is his evolving relationship with his step-mother. Hynes respects, admires and even likes her -- her purposeful energy, her zeal for order, her enthusiasm for life and work -- but never loves her. Even his thirteen-year-old autobiography excludes mention of her, and when his father coerces Samuel to include her, Samuel does so with a "chilled heart." Frugal and despeate to keep her family afloat, his step-mother sells a forgotten but cherished model train set. Awash in the economic misery of the Great Depression, where even wanting something unneeded is considered unworthy, the sale reminds the still-growing Samuel of the transitory nature of life, that "anything could be taken."

   Yet, "The Growing Seasons" is far from grim. Warmth abounds in the memoir, ranging from an excused absence from school due to a housekeeper's inability to close her mouth to the supreme satisfaction to Hynes' deep satisfaction at being able to finally don long pants to school instead of the dreaded knickers. The evolution to adulthood, the absoption of what it means to be a man, the quiet knowledge of the necessity of standing alone -- these benchmarks of maturation -- bespeak a person truly in touch with his own personality and his own potential.

   As Hynes becomes a man, with his attendant alienation from public school and his fascination with sex, he carries with him the formative experiences of childhood. Chafing at his relative youth, longing to experience the formative fires of war, Hynes' restlessness symbolizes an American energy, a robust transformative power that rings true in this instructive and engaging memoir.




4. One of the keys to this charming book is how many BAD things Sam and his friends do, that prove to be so interesting to read about! His style is understated, self-effacing. Flat, almost, but in a good way, all the cards on the table. I spent four years in Iowa and at the time someone told me that the adjective for Midwesterners wasn't "innocent" or anything like that, but "uncomplicated." You're used to seeing everything around you, all the way to the horizon. So maybe you lack a layer of artifice.

   I'll illustrate. His mother dies when Sam is a young boy, and his father (a stern but wonderfully forgiving fellow) remarries. Sam never figures out what to call his stepmother, so he avoids the issue completely. Permanently! This is remarkable. My wife had the same problem vis-à-vis my parents. It was kind of comical and kind of embarrassing on all fronts, but she figured it out a few days into our first extended visit with them. Sam never manages, yet seems to think nothing of it. Apart from remarking on the fact, he just goes on with things. Some readers may find this lack of navel-gazing a flaw, but I kind of liked it. It's more neutral, one might say scientific, and draws you in to the story. You can interpret things for yourself. He may answer that question of mine in his other books, or he may not, but with his winning style I know it will be fine reading right through it and around it.

   Another example comes near the end, pages 241-242, springtime of Sam's senior year in high school, World War Two looming, when he ponders the nature of women, and convertible automobiles, and describes how a guy a year or two older reveals to him and his friends an important secret about women, and sex. I read this long passage to my wife, and Hynes's wonderful deadpan style had us convulsing in laughter.

   Hynes is my parents' generation (and J.D. Salinger's), so I read it through that prism. My father and I grew up in suburban New York, my mother in El Paso (but I think maybe this is a guys' book), whereas Hynes is from Minneapolis (with a memorable summer on a farm). But it all connects. The eternal summertime of youth.




5. This is a prequel to the author's great war memoir, Flights of Passage, which I read with much appreciation 23 May 2001. If you have not read that book, by all means read this one first, then read it. This book is an account of a not extraordinary boyhood, but it is told in a poignant, if a bit mocking, way. When I finished it, I found myself much impressed by the way he told the story. It maybe helped that Hynes is only a few years older than I am, and that his account of a single summer doing farm work in Minnesota was filled with things I remember from my youth on an Iowa farm. It was another world and a time now irretrievably past, and I think this is an elegantly told growing up story I enjoyed as much as I did Russell Baker's memorable classic (Growing Up, read 11 Apr 1986) and Jimmy Carter's An Hour Before Daylight (read 11 Mar 2001).

5 comments about The Next Better Place: A Memoir in Miles.

1. This is a wonderful book. "A road trip with an alcoholic father and a child? Must be a downer," you'd think. Not so. Never sliding into self-pity, the author just lays out a personal cross-country saga in mesmerizing detail. At times heartbreaking, this book is ultimately an inspirational story of survival by a child who deserved better. I've read a lot of travel narratives, and this is as good as they come.



2. This wonderful hitchhiking odyssey is all thumps up (or outstretched as the young boy would tell us). What a romp across 1960 America. It's the kind of book I'd love to see as a movie. Sure lends itself to the big screen because I have read few more visual stories. This is fun all the way to California and back! What a roll of the camera . . . and sentence.



3. I would normally give this book 5 stars, except I have a strong sense that this book is a fictional fraud.
   
   It's the story of an 11 year old boy who hitchikes the country with his alcoholic, dead-beat father in search of a better life in California. Of course, California is no better than any other place they've been and they take buses back to Albany where his mother lives with his two sisters, only to ***spoiler*** go back out on the road again with his father at the end of the book.
   
   The book is well written and engaging, but only if the book is true, which I doubt. The book often states what a good storyteller the father is and how good said father is at making up things to get what he wants out of people. The author continually expresses his desire to be on the radio or in movies, not to mention how often he embellishes stories, so I wouldn't be surprised if the book was just one big lie.
   
   From the outset, the author states how he went 2 entire months without a bowel movement, which I don't even know is medically possible, much less didn't land him in the hospital. Plus he recounts in great detail names, places, and events that happened 40 years ago. And somehow, all these events involve sexual predators, thieves, and other ne'er-do-well's. Never any average people. Nah, I don't think the book is true.
   
   But if it is true, it's really well done.



4. Smiling ghosts of Mark Twain and Jack Kerouac hover over many pages of Michael Keith's "The Next Better Place." This captivating book places Keith squarely in the same row with America's finest writers of the road adventure story. Which is to say that "The Next Better Place" is so much more than a memoir-cum-novel of a precocious son traversing America's great expanses with an ageing picaro of a father. Keith knows when to embroider his book's perfectly intoned dialogue, tremulous details, and charming teenage bravado with both lyrical pathos and hints at the perverse. The greatest American road novel, Vladimir Nabokov's "Lolita," also came to mind as I devoured Keith's book, and I can only hope that Keith will soon reward his readers with another one.



5. I ENJOYED THIS BOOK VERY MUCH,HOWEVER I'M A LITTLE CONFUSED ABOUT MR. KEITH'S DATES. HE SAYS THESE EVENTS TOOK PLACE IN 1959, WHEN HE WAS 11 YEARS OLD. HOWEVER ON THE "AUTHORS NOTE" PAGE IT GIVES HIS YEAR OF BIRTH AS 1945, WHICH WOULD HAVE MADE HIM 14 YEARS OLD AT THE TIME OF THESE EVENTS. ALSO HE MENTIONS SEVERAL TIMES THE SONG FROM THE MOVIE "THE MAGNIFICANT 7". HOWEVER THAT MOVIE WASNT RELEASED TILL THE EARLY 1960'S. NO BIG DEAL. JUST BAD PROOF READING BY THE PUBLISHERS.

5 comments about An Open Book: Coming of Age in the Heartland.

1. I read this book a year or two ago, but remembered it again recently while reading Wendy Werris's new memoir, An Alphabetical Life, because both reflect such a love of books. To people like Dirda and Werris - and me - books are nearly as important as eating, loving, breathing. And that affinity is so astutely reflected here in Michael Dirda's story of his childhood in Lorraine, Ohio. It's a midwest boyhood to the nth degree, albeit one of a kind of nerdy, bookish unathletic kid. I was a kid like Mike. I could relate. If you grew up in the fifties and sixties and loved books, then don't miss this one. It will take you back - to those dusty, second-hand bookstores you found with such joy, and to your folks yelling at you to "getcher nose outa that book and go outside for a while! It's a beautiful day, dammit!" Like that. Thanks for sharing your kidhood, Mike. - Tim Bazzett, author of Reed City Boy



2. This is an extraordinary story of an ordinary life. From comic books, to the Hardy Boys to Faust to the French classics, we go on a ride through books with Mike Dirda. I also grew up in the Midwest at about the same time and I can identify with just about every page of the book. Extraordinary.



3. Everything Michael wrote in his book brought back so many boyhood memories for for my friend. It wasn't just the big things, it was the little things Dirda wrote about that brought smiles and tugged at the heart.



4. As I am a near contemporary of the author in age, I found an uncanny mirroring of my life in his...similar touchstones of products, events, TV shows, etc. many of which I had long forgotten. But what was the key pleasure of reading about this otherwise common life (and I throw myself in that descriptor as well)was the impact that various books had on him...something I could also identify with as another lifelong avid reader.
   
   Dirda mentions book titles to show how they affected his imagination, his decisions, his way of looking at the world. For those who argue there is no concrete utility in reading and are satisfied that future generations are losing this habit, this book is the best argument to the contrary I know. Not that there is any solemnity to his story or any self-importance. His is a wry, affectionate tale of growing up in the straight-laced Midwest in the 50's. But it is his love of literature that irradiates his story. Recommended for those who want to remember why they love to read and how they got that way.



5. It's a bit intimidating to write a review of a book by a book reviewer, but I have to try, as I loved this book so much! I have a long list of books to read in the future, and once one of them comes to the top, I sometimes have forgotten what it's going to be about, so this one came as a real treat. It tells of the author's childhood in Lorain, Ohio in the late 40s to the 60s, including his years at Oberlin. As an avid reader with many memories of the joy of childhood reading (although I was not as sophisticated in my tastes are Dirda!) it's always a treat to be brought back to the that wonderful feeling of having a pile of new books to read, from the library or thrift stores or the school book club! I enjoyed the list of books he had read through age 16 in an appendix. I felt better about my own youthful reading knowing we had both at least read a few of the same books, even the quite light Cheaper by the Dozen!

   An added treat for me is that although I didn't know this would be the case when I started the book, I got much insight into the land of my own early childhood---I was born in Elyria, next to Lorain, although we moved when I was 6, and my parents both went to Oberlin, a bit earlier than Dirda. Earlier in the day I started this book, my mother for some reason told me of a time my father bought me shoes at Januzzi's, a shoe store I'd never heard of before---reading later that day of the author's own trip to Januzzi's was one of my most amazing reading moments of my lifetime! Any author who can create a scene of place like Dirda did with the Lorain of his childhood is truly gifted.

   I am eager now to get my hands of Dirda's other book, Readings! Keep writing, Michael Dirda!!

5 comments about The Little Monster: Growing Up With ADHD.

1. I read the book in one day. It was very engaging and I went through the whole array of emotions as I read it. Reliving alot of similar moments for I am a Mom with twin boys that have been diagnosed with ADHD. I love to read, however the books on ADHD that I have read have been of little value. As Robert shares his story and his perspective it helped me understand my boys even better. The book may not have all the answers, but it did share some of the discoveries that Robert made on his own. In order to find ways to improve their self esteem, it helps to understand how society tears it down. I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to understand a person with ADHD traits.



2. This book was phenomenal!! It is the story of my life and I am glad I am not alone.
   I encourage all adults who think or know that they have attention deficit to read this.
   The book encouraged me to accept me for who I am and start my own chapter for ADHD in my own city.



3. The Little Monster: Growing Up With ADHD
   The Little Monster by Robert Jergen is a great read! The book takes the reader inside the head of Dr. Jergen, who has ADHD, and lets the reader see and feel what is like to have ADHD. This story will both touch and delight you as you read it. Most importantly though, this book will both teach and give you hope whether you have ADHD or are a parent or teacher for someone who has ADHD. Dr. Jergen gives the reader workable solutions to everyday problems as well as other referral sources for parents and teachers. When Dr. Jergen entered into his doctoral program, he discovered and wrote this, "The question became, not how to "cure" my ADHD, but how to utilize it."



4. I found this book to be very useful in seeing the world from an ADHD child and adult's perspective. But the author seems to feel that the entire world needs to shift to accommodate what seems natural to him. It seems that everyone must tolerate and indeed celebrate behavior that makes life unpleasant and difficult for the non-ADHD person who has the bad luck to work with an ADHD adult.
   
   I came away from the book feeling sad for ADHD children and their parents and their poor teachers who have delivered into their classrooms the "gift" of an uncontrolled child. And I am profoundly grateful that I don't work with an ADHD adult.
   
   It would have been nice to read more about how the author tries to accommodate others and less about how the world must warp to fit him.



5. I highly recommend this book to parents, teachers and anyone interested in learning more about ADHD. I am actually currently taking my Masters in Special Education and this book was a wonderful source of information. It is a very powerful book where the author talks about his personal experience growing up with ADHD. All parents of kids with ADHD should read this book because after this experience they will definitely understand better their kids' behavior. I congratulate the author for sharing his personal experience and for showing through his writing how parents and teachers have a crucial role in developing kids' self - esteem