Bad Dogs Have More Fun

As a huge fan of John Grogan's "Marley & Me," I was psyched when my boyfriend brought home a little gift in the form of Grogan's "Bad Dogs Have More Fun". The collection of his editorials is sincere and heartwarming, as well as reflective of the bring-you-to-tears humor that made "Marley & Me" such an overnight sensation. The amazing aspect of Grogan's writing is that he can retell horrible events in a way that lets the reader imagine that some good came out of it all, without waxing religious. He never states "there was a good side to this;" instead, his images and involvement with each story create a positive emotional response in his readers.

Kyle and I have recently added a canine member to our duo. Riley Elvis is a black cocker spaniel puppy that keeps us on our toes and has us collapsing into bed at night. Riley reminds us to relax and enjoy his quirkiness. He teaches us to enjoy the simple things in life like he does - stolen underwear, sweaty socks, shredded recipes, and lengthy belly rubs. We sat up for hours in his room until he fell asleep so he wouldn't be alone; I slept on the floor when he hurt his eye; we went further into debt to have surgery on said eye. I guess what I'm trying to say is that your first dog as a "grown-up" has a lot of lessons to teach you. It becomes easier to define what is a priority and what is not, what is worth worrying over and what is just added stress. My dream has always been to be an author ... maybe one day the world will read "Riley & Me," and consider it half as wonderful as Grogan's charming tale of the dog that helped him become the man he is today.

Vivaldi's Virgins

Recently I have begun to delve back into those wonderful historical novels that paint the story around famous artistic masterpieces. Several weeks ago I read a wonderful book entitled "Vivaldi's Virgins" by Barbara Quick. The author creates vivid characters that readers will love to both hate and adore - each advancing step is countered by drastic, devastating leaps backward, until the end, when the tunnel of darkness is lit by a single flickering idea of happiness. Quick brings Vivaldi's Italy to life, highlighting not only the decadence of some, but also the depravity caused by rigid social structures, religious rifts, and strict regulations on personal behavior. The book centers on a young girl's quest to discover her identity, a story line that has readers emotionally involved with the book within the first pages. "Vivaldi's Virgins" was an accidental find, which has inspired me to return to old favorites like Susan Vreeland and Tracy Chevalier.

Author of the Week: Lisa See

It is difficult to say whether it is the quality of the writing or simply the astounding difference between cultures painted in painful detail that so captivates the reader of Lisa See's work. I recently finished "Snow Flower and the Secret Fan," and am currently reading "Peony in Love." Both works focus on the lives of young women and girls growing up in a China where perfectly bound feet are a mark of female perfection. The details See shares with her readers are full of pain, both physical and mental; small girls walk on broken toes, while the women around them sing songs that degrade and constantly remind the girls that they are a result of a failure of their mothers' wombs. See introduces a new type of love in which the people who love these women treat them harshly and distantly to prepare them for life. See's books are not full of joy and triumph; rather, they unveil unfathomable experiences with a refreshing truthfulness.