2021 Books: Walk the Wire by David Baldacci

Walk the Wire by David Baldacci
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I've enjoyed the previous novels in this series much more than I did Walk the Wire. The main character, Amos Decker, remains as sharply written as ever, continuing to struggle with the mental and emotional issues that have marked his story thus far. The pacing of Walk the Wire is ramped up, however, to a frenetic pitch, and the addition of a second plot just leads to jumps in logic and action that feel unjustified and far too rushed.

The second plot is a crossover of characters from another Baldacci series. While other authors have pulled this off well (I'm thinking particularly of Without Remorse, Tom Clancy's masterpiece that details John Clark's origin story), Walk the Wire doesn't hit home with the same impact. Some pieces are in place to make this an excellent story, but it's just too rushed, too busy, too slipshod to work as well as previous entries in this series have done.

All that said, I did devour this one pretty quickly on a brief summer getaway to Minnesota, which can be a lot of fun in its own right. It's not a terrible novel - I've read plenty of those along the way. This one just could have been better, and it's a shame it wasn't. I'll look forward to the next Amos Decker book in the hopes that it'll be more like its excellent predecessors than Walk the Wire turned out to be.

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2021 Books: Cross Sections by Matt Schur

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Cross Sections is a thought-provoking, passionate collection of poetry aimed squarely at American Protestant Christianity in the early 21st century. This century has been a target-rich environment for critics of the American church, but what makes this volume particularly poignant is that the author offers his critique from within the institution itself, with an eye toward redemption and healing rather than destruction.

Writing in the vein of authors like Anne Lamott, Martin Bell, and Annie Dillard, these poems are filled with humor, rage, anguish, regret, hope, dismay, reflection, and a thematic underpinning that whatever this age is, it is not the beacon on the hill that large parts of the American Christian community believe it is, nor has it ever been. These poems ask big questions, take big swings, and sometimes make for incredibly uncomfortable reading - the kind of reading that shows you the cracks in the foundations of your thinking and makes you consider whether you've assumed too many things were true that just don't have to be, and maybe shouldn't.

If you're uncomfortable with the way things are, Cross Sections might be a collection of poetry that shows you you're not alone, and gives you hope that the moral arc of the universe is still bending toward justice. If you're comfortable with the way things are, this collection might move you into that uncomfortable place, and then show you you're not alone and give you hope as well. Highly recommended for Christian and non-Christian readers alike.

DISCLAIMER: Matt Schur and I have been good friends for almost 30 years, and I was an advance reader who offered some editorial suggestions for Cross Sections prior to publication. That having been said, I wouldn't post a review if it wasn't genuine, not even for a friend, and I did not request or receive any compensation for this review.

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The Bird that Sang in Color by Grace Mattioli
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I accepted a free electronic copy of The Bird That Sang In Color with a promise to post a review when I had finished. I am somewhat regretting that decision because I don't like giving less-than-favorable reviews, save for authors who are either a) dead or b) well-established enough that a lousy review isn't going to harm their livelihood. But I did promise, so here we are.

The Bird That Sang In Color isn't a bad story - I should be clear about that from the start. It's a family tale, one of several in a series told from the viewpoint of several family members. Donna Tucci is the first person narrator of this volume, and it largely deals with her relationship with her brother Vincent. Donna tells her version of the Tucci story, moving through childhood in the 1970s to adulthood in the present day, and there's a lot to tell.

I think the reason I couldn't be more positive about this book is the narration itself. From the first few chapters to the very end, Donna's voice felt scattered and flighty, jumping from one paragraph to another without any real sense of a unifying theme or a clear vision of why this story matters. It felt like a first draft of an autobiography or memoir by someone who isn't actually a very good writer. Entire years get jumped with little warning, it's difficult to keep characters sorted except for Vincent and Donna, and the title seems unconnected to the one element which does move through the entire book, identified in the final chapters. The thought did occur to me that perhaps the disjointed narration is a compositional choice by the author, given that other family members are narrating many of the same events in their own volumes of this series; if so, it's a choice that didn't work for me as a reader. I asked myself "Why?" quite often in reading this book, and didn't get nearly enough answers to that question in the end.

Other reviewers had a far more positive experience, and I'm glad for that, because it means that Grace Mattioli connects with other readers in ways The Bird That Sang In Color didn't connect with me. I'm grateful for the chance to read and review a new author, even if it didn't wind up being what every author would like to hear about their work, and I'd encourage people who've read this far to try the book for yourselves and see what you think. At the very least, the story of Donna Tucci would tell you that happiness doesn't come the same way for every person, and if other readers find happiness reading The Bird That Sang In Color, I'm happy as well.
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2021 Books: Tales by H.P. Lovecraft

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Well, consider me... whelmed.

I know Lovecraft is a huge influence on Stephen King and many other folks. I can see what so many of them have come to love - when he was on his game, he was fantastic, particularly for his time. But perhaps I should have just stuck with a smaller compendium with At the Mountains of Madness and some of the best short stories, because by the end I was checking out every single time I read the following words: "the mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred..."

High points: The Call of Cthulhu, definitely. At the Mountains of Madness and The Case of Charles Dexter Ward were both very good, and I'd never even heard of the latter. It was the longest of the stories, incorporating several different generations and an interesting, very sympathetic main character. The Dunwich Horror, The Colour Out of Space, and The Thing on the Doorstep were also new to me, and I'm very much looking forward to watching the movie version of The Colour Out of Space when I've got some free time. But page after page of 1st person narratives s-l-o-w-l-y developing from odd suspicions into full-on terror just starts to sound the same after a while.

It could be that if I actually owned this volume, I could pick it up every now and again to try a story on its own as some sort of palate cleanser, but trying to read it straight through turned into quite a slog before all was said and done.

My recommendation: look for a "best of" version or read Lovecraft one story at a time. Don't be a shoggoth and try to devour it whole - there may be unpleasant consequences for those who do.

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