The Winged Cat, by Deborah Nourse Lattimore, HarperCollins, 1992.
This book is perfect for any child who loves cats, beautiful artwork, history, and different cultures -- in other words, my child. My son LOVED this book because he always wants to know not only 'why', but 'when', 'what', 'where', and 'how'.
The Turquoise Bee, poems by the Sixth Dalai Lama, translated by Rick Field, Harper Books, 1994.
I'm not sure what I expected when I bought this book of poetry. I guess I was intrigued by the idea. Anyway, I put it in a bookcase and forgot about it for several years. Now I'm culling through my books, and found it.
It is an intriguing book. The history of the Sixth Dalai Lama is found in the opening pages, and could in itself make an interesting film. The poetry itself was charged with energy and sensuality, and the very last poem was heartbreaking.
The Cataract of Lodore, written by Robert Southey, illustrated by Mordicai Gerstein, Dial Books, 1991.
The illustrations in my version (by Mordicai Gerstein) were delightful, but I really loved the poem. The poem, however, MUST be read out loud to appreciate it. My third-grade son, who loves words and rhythm, loved this poem. I was trying to get him to see how the words mimicked the waterfall, so as the rhythm of the words sped up, I asked him what he thought it was trying to show. He understood it was the water, flowing slowly at first and then faster and faster, but he said it also sounded like a heartbeat that speeds up during excitement. I think my son might have understood the poem even better than I did.
The Razor's Edge, by W. Somerset Maugham, 1942.
When I was in my 20s, this was my favorite book. I've re-read it in my 30s, and 40s, and . . . well . . . this year, and it still holds up. It may not quite be my favorite book -- Till We Have Faces overtook it some time ago, but I still love the writing of this book. And, every time I read it, I like Elliott a little more, and Isabel a little less.
Come, Sit, Stay, by Arden Moore, illustrated by Buck Jones, Dog Fancy, 2004.
I bought this book after I had our dog in obedience school, so I wasn't sure how helpful the book would be. Our dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, at ten weeks old, was the youngest and the biggest dog in class. She also was the star pupil. She wanted to go first, and would even show the 'slacker' dogs how to follow the command. She passed her eight-week class with flying colors. And then, on the way home from her final class, she ate her diploma. I was glad I had this book then.
This book is easy to follow. It does teach the basic commands slightly different than the obedience class did, but not so different as to be confusing, and the book even gave a variety of ways to the commands.
The Murder on the Links, by Agatha Christie, 1923.
There is so much charm, and so many layers, to this book that this is probably my favorite Poirot story. Also, how could I not be enchanted by a dead body on a golf course? ;)
Who Killed My Daughter?, by Lois Duncan, Delacorte Press, 1992.
Through Facebook, I knew Ms. Duncan in her final years. I knew she broke her back around Thanksgiving of 2015, and had surgeries but was in unbearable pain -- always. I knew that her daughter, who would have been my contemporary, was murdered at the age of 18 in 1989. I knew that her daughter's unsolved murder weighed heavily on her.
She knew about my young son through the stories I shared. She even gave me writing advice on the book I was writing, and which I tabled after her death -- until now. During the last few months of her life, she sent me a signed copy of this book. I didn't read this book right away, and, after she died, I didn't feel like I could read this book at all -- until last week.
Even after all the conversations she and I had about writing, I didn't know how much ESP affected her. I knew that the local police department botched the murder case, but I didn't know how badly. I didn't know how much her youngest daughter's murder tore apart her family -- until I read the book.
When I first heard about Lois' death, I thought "At last she will know who killed her daughter". As I read this book, that feeling became even stronger. As much as I enjoy Lois' other books, I can't say I liked this book. This book was not written to be 'liked'. It was written to try to solve her daughter's murder case. It was written to bring closure. I didn't 'like' this book, but I do feel like I owe it Lois to go back to the book I was writing at the time of her death. Lois, over the course of her life, inspired many fledgling writings. Maybe her final advice to me was to see that through this book.
