tuesday topics: eight. books on your to be read list

October 3, 2017

okay. i am not counting the eight books that are left on my bonus list for erin's book challenge because i feel like that would be cheating, like i put no thought into it. i had a look at the books on my shelves last night and wasn't too keen on digging into any of them, so i went to the bookstore this morning and dug through the stacks. so i grabbed eight books that piqued my interest; these are the snippets that made me want to give them a look.

one. britt-marie was here by fredrik backman.
forks. knives. spoons.

in that order.

britt-marie is certainly not the kind of person who judges other people. far from it.

but surely no civilized person would even think of arranging a cutlery drawer in a different way from how cutlery drawers are supposed to be arranged.

we're not animals are we? (page 1).

two. love walked in by marisa de los santos.
my life -- my real life -- started when a man walked into it, a handsome stranger in a perfectly cut suit, and, yes, i know how that sounds. my friend linny would snort and convey the kind of multi-pronged disgust i rely on her to convey. one prong of feminist disgust at the whole idea of a man changing a woman's life, even though, as things turned out, the man himself was more the harbinger of change than the change itself. another prong of disgust for the inaccuracy of saying my life began after thirty-one years of living it. and the final prong being a kind of general disgust for the way people turn moments in their lives into movie moments.

i do this more than i should, i'll give you that, but there was something backlit and sudden about his walking through the door of the cafe i managed (page 1).

three. the bookshop at water's end by patti callahan henry.
we are defined by the moods and whims of a tidal river surrounding our small town, cradling us in its curved basin. we don't shape it; it shapes us. the gray-blue water brings us what it will and only when it desires. one sweltering, languid afternoon as i shelved dusty paperbacks, i looked up to see a ghost. the girl was the spitting image of a woman i knew years ago -- too many summers ago to count. it could have been another whim of the river (page 1).

four. emily and einstein by linda francis lee.
i hadn't known emily for more than a week the first time i pulled her close. with our lips nearly touching, i whispered," fall in love with me. i dare you."

she did fall for me, though since then i have wondered if it was the dare that set me up to fall...

the first time i saw him my world tilted. ridiculous, i know, but seeing him the first time jarred me so deeply that i had to turn away, like turning away from looking directly at the sun, and pretend i hadn't noticed him at all.

it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the most beautiful man i had ever seen. his face was a strike against him. i fell in love because there was something in his eyes that was at odds with his physical beauty. sandy portman drew me in, like the draft of a manuscript where perfectly constructed sentences hinted at but didn't yet reveal a deeper truth. and when he pulled me close and smiled at me the first time, a crooked smile on his perfect face, hinting at a bit more of his truth? well, i was lost (pages 7-11).

five. the glass kitchen by linda francis lee.
on the morning her sister went missing, portia cuthcart woke up to thoughts of blueberries and peaches.

the taste of fruit filled her mouth, so sweet, so real, as if she'd been eating in her dreams. with a groggy yawn, she scooted out of bed. she pulled on her favorite fluffy slippers and big-girl's robe, then shuffled into the tiny kitchen of the double-wide trailer on the outskirts of willow creek, texas. without thinking about what she was doing, she pulled blueberries from the icebox and peaches from the fruit bin.

she might have been only seven years old, but she was smart enough to know that her mother would have a fit if she pulled out knives, or did anything near the two-burner hot plate. instead, portia pulled the peaches apart, catching the sticky-sweet juice on her tongue as it ran down her fingers. she found a slice of angel food cake wrapped in plastic and plopped the fruit on top.

just as she stood back, satisfied with what she had made, her parents tumbled into the trailer like apples poured out of a bushel basket, disorderly, frantic (page 3).

six. we were liars by e. lockhart.
welcome to the beautiful sinclair family.

no one is a criminal.

no one is an addict.

no one is a failure.

the sinclairs are athletic, tall, and handsome. we are old-money democrats. our smiles are wide, our chins square, and our tennis serves aggressive.

it doesn't matter if divorce shreds the muscles of our hearts so that they will hardly beat without a struggle. it doesn't matter if trust-fund money is running out; if credit card bills go unpaid on the kitchen counter. it doesn't matter if there's a cluster of pill bottles on the bedside table.

it doesn't matter if one of us is desperately, desperately in love.

so much

in love

that equally desperate measures

must be taken.

we are sinclairs.

no one is needy.

no one is wrong.

we live, as least in the summertime, on a private island off the coast of massachusetts.

perhaps that is all you need to know (page 3).

seven. the seven rules of elvira carr by frances maynard.
"have you had a stroke, mother?" i asked, bending down. she snorted. call an ambulance, i thought. that's what people did.

it came very quickly with two men -- paramedics was the correct word -- who looked young and strong...

"have you checked out soon, no worries," one said, and then to me, "are you coming with your mother, love?"

my face went hot when he called me love.

coming with your mother? i hardly ever went anywhere. father was dead, and mother had sold his car. when i'd made trips on my own, there had been incidents. i occasionally went to places, places such as the dentist, on the bus with mother, but that was a palaver and made her knees hurt.

i would have enjoyed a trip out, but i knew ambulances were only for sick people.

"no thank you." i stared at his ear. "i'm not ill. and i haven't finished getting dinner ready" (pages 2-3).

eight. summer breeze by nancy thayer.
aaron was handsome, sweet, sexy, and smart. he was the first man she'd ever wanted to marry. while bella was growing up, her own family had been happy -- noisy and messy, but happy -- and bella wanted one like that for herself. lots of children, toys on the floor, flour on the kitchen counter while she taught her son to make popovers (so much fun for children), a husband who would come home from work with a smile on his face to toss his children into the air -- and who could make her melt at the sight of him, the way she was melting now. 

she could have all that with aaron. he had just gotten his master's in architecture. he was putting out feelers for jobs and was sure to get a good one. he was so bright, so reliable. he wanted children. he was in love with her. she was in love with him, and the vision of their life together was enticing.

but there was one enormous problem: aaron had been invited to interview for a job in san francisco.

san francisco excited aaron. bella didn't want to leave massachusetts (page 3).

what books are you wanting to read next? share them with me!


  1. The Bookshop at Water's End is such a pretty title for a book. I'm not familiar with the book itself, but I love the title. Very quaint.

    I have Brit Marie on my "never ending TBR," but I haven't read it yet. I loved A Man Called Ove, hated My Grandmother Told Me to Tell You..., and I liked Beartown. Might give it a go sometime in the upcoming months.

    I absolutely cheated and used books that I selected for the bonus round of Erin's challenge! LOL!

  2. I LOVED We were Liars! The style kind of annoyed me, but I loved the story. I have her latest book on my Kindle right now. Britt-Marie is on my list too!