Books on Thursday

I didn't have much time for reading leading up to the wedding, but I was happy to finish a couple of books this week. 

I chose Winter Song largely because of the comparisons to Elizabeth Strout and Kent Haruf, two writers whose quiet, compassionate portraits of ordinary lives I admire. Unfortunately, those comparisons set expectations this novel never quite met for me.

Rebecca Lee Morales certainly creates a strong sense of place. The writing is rich with icy, windswept imagery that made me feel the biting cold of rural Minnesota. The frozen landscape seeps into every page, and the setting becomes almost another character. If there's one thing this novel captures beautifully, it's the emotional and physical weight of a Midwestern winter.

The story itself, however, felt relentlessly bleak. Nearly every character seems burdened by regret, loneliness, or disappointment, and even moments that hint at redemption are overshadowed by a pervasive sense of hopelessness. I kept waiting for some warmth, either in the relationships or in the emotional arc, but it never arrived.

Although the novel is framed around questions of guilt, justice, and a crime that an innocent man went to jail for, I found the mystery fairly predictable. The outcome didn't surprise me, and the emotional journey wasn't compelling enough to make up for that lack of suspense.

There are thoughtful themes here about community, forgiveness, and living with the consequences of our choices, and I can appreciate what the author was trying to accomplish. But for me, the novel lacked the emotional depth, grace, and subtle humanity that make Strout's and Haruf's characters linger long after the final page.
 

Thank you to NetGalley and Ecco for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on December 1, 2026. Three stars for me.

 

Sarah read and reviewed this title and I was intrigued enough to request it from NetGalley. It is everything that Sarah said. Kaleidoscope is exactly what its title suggests: fragments of a life held up to the light and turned again and again, each shift revealing a different pattern, perspective, or previously overlooked detail. This is not a traditional, linear memoir, and it took me a little while to adjust to Shapiro's approach. Rather than moving chronologically from one event to the next, she travels freely through time, weaving together childhood, family, marriage, motherhood, friendship, illness, addiction, aging, shame, identity, writing, and mortality. Along the way, she considers the many versions of herself she has been and the ways those selves continue to shape who she is.

The catalyst for this memoir is a diagnosis of a rare, life-threatening illness. Shapiro faces a frightening choice: the treatment that may save her life is also likely to cost her eyesight. The impending loss of her sight is less the story itself than the lens through which Shapiro looks back at all the others. For a writer whose work depends so much on observation and attention, the possibility of losing her physical sight is understandably frightening. Yet it also seems to sharpen her awareness of the things she has not fully seen in herself and the people around her. Her reflections on memory, identity, the passage of time, and the stories we tell ourselves are thoughtful and often beautifully expressed.

I particularly appreciated the way Shapiro explores aging, not as a process of leaving former selves behind, but as a gathering of all the people we have been. There is an intimacy and candor to her writing that makes even her more difficult reflections feel inviting rather than self-indulgent.

I initially found the fragmented, impressionistic structure a little challenging, but ultimately came to admire it and truly enjoy this 4.5 star memoir. A thoughtful, beautifully written meditation on what it means to see ourselves and our lives clearly, even when so much remains uncertain.

Thank you to NetGalley and Little, Brown, and Company for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on May 4, 2027.  

 

Now I'd love to know what you are reading!  

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/11/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with some more progress on the @#$! dishtowel and an excuse for why it's taking so long. 

I’m a creature of habit, and that’s pretty evident in my wardrobe. In summer, I wear short overalls with a T-shirt; in winter, it’s long overalls and a long-sleeve shirt. Overalls are comfortable, they have pockets, and I’m a big fan of both those features. I’ve accumulated quite a few pairs from Duluth Trading Co., often picking them up on sale during the off-season.

When I switched to my winter overalls this fall, I wondered why I had only two pairs in my drawers. A little digging turned up four more pairs I’d bought last winter, tucked away under John’s hunting clothes. Duluth offers different inseam lengths, but I still always have to hem mine. So that’s what I spent time doing this week: putting down my knitting needles and picking up a different kind of needle to hem overalls. I’m thrilled to have some new clothes in rotation, and even happier that I no longer have to do laundry every two or three days.

But I did manage to find some time for the dishtowel, too. I know you’re probably getting tired of seeing it, but I’m determined to have it finished before next Wednesday.

Jess crochets, so she understands how much time goes into handmade items. Still, I may have to refer her to these posts just in case. I'm not sure that a couple of dishtowels for Christmas says "We love you! Welcome to the family!"

What are you making this Wednesday in mid-November?

Off the Shelf November 2026

I had forgotten about our new Off the Shelf topic after my first post in September, but thankfully Carole's wonderful post about her pie cookbook last Monday reminded me. So today I'm sharing a "sort of" cookbook that has an important place on my shelf. 

I have a small desk in my kitchen that is handy for paying bills and it also has a little shelf at the bottom that works well for cookbooks. I don't use them more than a few times a month, but they're the ones that matter to me and have survived multiple weedings. 

 

 

I actually added a couple of new ones last week, but I digress.

 

My mother wasn't particularly fond of making dinner day in and day out, and she eventually settled into a familiar rotation of meatloaf, spaghetti, pork chops, sloppy joes, and assorted casseroles. She may not have been much of a cook, but she was definitely the Christmas Cookie Queen. She started baking in November, making dozens of different kinds of cookies and storing them in multiple Charles Chips cans. My sister and I thought the man who delivered the chips was named Charlie, so we called them Charlie Chip cans. Mom baked so many cookies that we almost always had some left on Valentine's Day. 

  

Along with cut-out cookies, Mexican wedding cookies, chocolate chip, gingerbread, snickerdoodles, candy cane cookies, gumdrop cookies, and stained-glass cookies, she also made my absolute favorites: Magic Carpet cookies. The recipe comes from a Betty Crocker pamphlet published in 1957, and I still have my mother's copy tucked into a file folder on my cookbook shelf. 

 

They have a buttery shortbread base with confectioner's sugar icing. I tried making them once after my mother died, but they were so fiddly to put together and didn't taste anything like I remembered. I haven't attempted them again in several decades. Maybe this will be the year I finally give them another try and manage to get them right.

But even if I never make another batch, this little pamphlet will always have a special place on my shelf. It brings back memories of a very special cookie that my mother made year after year simply because she knew how much I loved them. Thanks for the love in cookie form, Mom.

 

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 11/4/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with more Fire on the Mountain. 

That's the name of this STR colorway and I'm enjoying working on it. 

 

 

But I also made myself work some more on the last dishtowel. It's proving to be just what I was afraid of, sloggier and sloggier. I've tried rewarding myself every eight rows with a Hershey's kiss, but I'm afraid the rewards are going to have to get bigger. A peanut butter cup? A grilled cheese sandwich? A scoop of ice cream with chocolate sauce and peanuts? Time will tell ...

 

What are you making this Wednesday in early November?

Read With Us: The Music of What Might Have Been

Some melodies stay with us long after the music stops. So do the people, passions, and choices that once seemed certain to shape our lives. In Partita, Barbara Kingsolver explores what happens when the past, long set aside, suddenly demands to be heard again.

Pulitzer Prize-winning author Barbara Kingsolver takes us into the life of Livia Cable, a woman who has settled into marriage and a comfortable existence in the farm country where she grew up. But a phone call from a man she once loved threatens to unsettle the life she has carefully built. Decades earlier, Livia Bohusz was a gifted young pianist, a conservatory student with extraordinary promise, a complicated family history, and a passion for music. Now, faced with the possibility of seeing her former lover again, she must revisit the experiences and attachments that changed the course of her life. The decision is about more than whether to see him; it means confronting the past and reconsidering the choices that brought her to the life she now leads.

Moving between past and present, Kingsolver structures Livia's memories around musical pieces, exploring the connections between art and life, ambition and sacrifice, love and loss. Along the way, she considers the barriers of class, the risks of pursuing one's dreams, and the ways our earliest experiences can shape the people we become.

Kingsolver is a wonderful storyteller, and Partita promises the kind of richly layered, emotionally engaging novel that gives readers plenty to think about and discuss. It's a story about the choices we make, the paths we leave behind, and the parts of ourselves that may never quite be forgotten.

Kym, Carole, and I will be talking about the book, giving additional information, and doing promotional posts throughout November. Discussion day for Partita is scheduled for Tuesday, January 12, 2027 at 7:00 pm Eastern time, so mark your calendars. We'll ask questions on our blogs that day and then host the always educational and illuminating Zoom discussion. Bring your thoughts, your questions, and your willingness to look at a story from more than one perspective. As always, there are no right or wrong answers, just a good book and good conversation. We hope you'll Read With Us!

You can also listen with us. This is Seong-Jin Cho playing Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit: I. Ondine. Livia chooses Gaspard de la nuit, a famously difficult three-movement work, as a technical challenge and a way to prove herself. It mirrors the intense, obsessive phase of her life when she falls in love with Sigurd.

Books on Thursday

I didn't write a book post last week, so I've got several to tell you about this week. 

Etna is an inventive and unusual story, told from the perspective of a former military dog trying to find his way home after years of war. Having survived so much, Etna sets out across a devastated landscape in the hope of finding the place from which he was taken as a young dog. Along the way, he encounters people and animals who, like him, are struggling to make sense of a world that has changed beyond recognition.

I found it quite sad to think of Etna carrying the weight of so many changes and losses, with so little understanding of why his life has become what it is. His journey is as much about searching for a sense of belonging as it is about finding a physical home. Even when the fighting has stopped, the consequences of war remain, and trust and security are difficult to recover.

Paul Yoon has come up with a fresh and compelling way to explore the aftermath of war, displacement, and maybe the possibility of hope. There is something particularly affecting about seeing the human world through Etna's eyes, as he tries to navigate circumstances he cannot fully understand. Although I appreciated the originality of the premise and the questions it raises about home and starting over, I found the story's sadness more affecting than any hopeful message.

An imaginative, quietly moving novel, though not always an easy one to read. This was 3.5 stars for me.

I’m a big fan of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, so a story that reimagines that classic through the eyes of cats was bound to appeal to me. Licorice by Kara Lareau is an imaginative and unusual take on a familiar tale, mixing a bit of mystery and a tiny bit of spookiness with feline characters who have personalities of their own.

Poor Kitty arrives at her new home hoping for a fresh start, only to discover that the previous cat, Licorice, seems to have left his mark on absolutely everything. Between the lingering scent, Duchess the parrot’s reminders that she’s merely a replacement, and the unsettling feeling that Licorice’s presence might be more than a memory, Kitty has a lot to contend with. The parallels with Rebecca are fun to recognize, even as the story takes on a life of its own through its animal characters.

I’m not entirely sure how the intended audience will receive this middle grade book, but I enjoyed its originality. The combination of a classic story, a little mystery, a touch of the supernatural, and cats worked well for me. I would happily welcome more retellings of classic literature with cats in the starring roles! 

While Peck & Peck is a book about poetry, poetry is really just one small part of a rather madcap assortment of characters, complicated relationships, unexpected tangents, and more than a few people with their own devious motives. There is a lot going on here! Its central question is whether a young man who loves poetry can preserve that love while working inside an institution that seems determined to corrupt the very values it claims to uphold. Garmus also makes a case for poetry as something essential rather than ornamental. Her main character believes poetry has something to say about virtually every human experience, from love and jealousy to revenge and reconciliation. His faith in poetry gives the novel its emotional center.

In the first half of the novel, we learn that our main character, Batter Gray, was named after a family dog whose escapades were recounted in reverent tones throughout his childhood by his mother, Rainey. Rainey is a type designer with an extensive knowledge of typography, but it was her stories about Batter the dog, which she told to Batter her son, that made her my favorite character. I loved this wonderfully eccentric touch and the way Garmus uses it to establish the family's particular brand of oddness.

I listened to the audiobook, and while I enjoyed the experience, I suspect I missed some of the nuances and connections along the way. There are so many threads, tangents, and moving pieces that the story occasionally bogs down under the weight of its own cleverness. I sometimes struggled to keep track of everything that was happening and how all the pieces fit together.

Still, Garmus has a lively imagination, and there is plenty here to entertain and surprise. The characters are an eccentric bunch, the motives behind their actions aren't always what they seem, and eventually the various threads find their resolution.

I'm giving this four stars, with the feeling that I haven't quite absorbed everything the novel has to offer. I'll be rereading it with my eyes next time, hoping to catch more of the details and appreciate how all the pieces fit together. I'm looking forward to seeing what I missed the first time around!

"Poetry is problematic. First, it’s not easy. It forces you to think and sometimes thinking hurts. Also, poetry can make you feel stupid, like you don’t get it. And if you do get it, then it’s only because it just revealed something about yourself that you were hoping to keep hidden."

Now I'd love to know what you are reading! 

 

Unraveled Wednesday: 10/28/26

I’m happy to join Kat and the Unravelers today with a Hitchhiker in progress. 

I know I said something about maybe knitting at the wedding, but I didn't knit a stitch, even during the rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. It was quite chilly and while I thought I was dressed for the weather, I did spend a lot of time around the fire pit. Young men (and older ones also) can't seem to leave a fire alone, so there always seemed to be embers flying after they tried to get it burning better. A hole burned in my last precious STR yarn was not what I wanted as a remembrance of the wedding. 

I've also got a second dish towel cast on for Jess for Christmas, but I may currently be dish-toweled out. I did get my skeins of Purl Soho Japanese Denim Cotton out of the stash in case I felt the urge to cast on for a Saltwater Bandana, but that hasn't happened just yet. 

 

What are you making this final Wednesday in October?