jodiwilldare's reviews
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We interrupt this month of reading and discussing books written by women in honor of March being Women’s History Month to talk about a book written by a man about a man who was a misogynistic wife-beating dirtbag.

I technically listened to Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, and the Prison of Belief back in February when it was not Women’s History month but didn’t get a chance to write about it until March snuck up on me. Also, when I only want to write about women writers next March I will do all the women-reading before March actually starts. I’m not so good with the logistics. Anyway, I’m in the midst of Unfamiliar Fishes by Sarah Vowell, Neon Angel by Cherie Currie, and Wake Up Lonely by Fiona Maazel so there’s plenty of womanly goodness coming your way soon(ish).

In the meantime should we talk about completely cuckoo aforementioned dirtbag/science fiction writer/cult leader (erm religious figure?) L. Ron Hubbard? Yes, let’s.Read more.

It is not wholly unpleasant, but is totally unsubstantial exactly like Farrar’s book of vignettes. Farrar, for the uninitiated, is the lead singer of Son Volt and for a short time was in the band Uncle Tupelo with a fellow named Jeff Tweedy.

Now Farrar has written the kind of songs that make my entire body sigh in a sort of shivery resignation to the emotion his music provokes in me. I cannot hear the song “Windfall” and do anything besides listen to it. It’s a stop all the presses kind of song for me. Read More

When you crack open Fiona Maazel’s Woke Up Lonely, strap in and just go with it. The more you give yourself over to Maazel’s dark satire the more you will enjoy your ride. Here’s where I exhort yourself to give in and don’t think about it too much. Because if you start the “but, really, is that even plausible?” you’ll just ruin everything and the ending of this book is so touching and sweet that it’s worth all the “hrmmm. . . .”

Oh, and before I forget, if you dig Vonnegut you will dig this one. Maazel’s got some Vonnegut about her and the fact that she drops his name early on in this novel means she gets it. Read more.

Here’s the thing with Sarah Vowell. While I’m in the midst of her books, I’m loving them. She’s wry and smart, and the topics she chooses to write about are interesting. They’re things I only had cursory knowledge about — presidential assassinations, Hawaii, and Puritans. In the thick of her books whether I’m listening or reading, I’m all in. I love listening to her read her books. She’s a great reader & she always gets a host of co-readers which is awesome. But the thing is the moment I’m done, I have forgotten most everything she has written about. Read More.

There’s a lot to say about Erica Lorraine Scheidt’s wonderful young-adult novel Uses for Boys, I hope I can get to them all. Where to begin?

First of all, this book came to my attention on Twitter when some of my very favorite people & writers were all “USES FOR BOYS HOLY SHIT!” and “USES FOR BOYS, FOR REAL PEOPLE!” Usually I’m a little leery of YA recs that come via Twitter. YA writers are a loyal pack and I’ve been burned by their ability to put loyalty over critical thinking. This one, however, intrigued me because it’s gotten undies all bunched because of the sex included in the story. read more.

I was already pretty pro-Mindy Kaling before I listened to Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), which she reads, and after finishing it I’d put myself solidly in the fan camp.

Known primarily as Kelly Kapoor from the now-departed The Office, Kaling also wrote a bunch of the episodes. She’s responsible for some of the best episodes including the one where Michael burns his foot on a George Foreman grill and Dwight gets a concussion in his haste to rescue the injured Michael. Just typing that sentence makes me laugh. Read More.

In Elliott Holt’s debut-novel You Are One of Them Jenny Jones’ harbinger of doom comes in the guise of her best friend Sarah Zuckerman. Sarah’s an anxious kid who grows up in the shadow of a dead sister, a father who went back to England, and her mother’s various anxieties and obsessions, one of which is nuclear holocaust caused by the escalating tensions of the Cold War.

People, this book is so good that I don’t even know where to begin. It’s the kind of book that while I was in the midst of reading it I would randomly bring it up in conversation just so I could talk about it. It demanded talking about. Read More.

Hoo, did I struggle with Chris Kluwe’s new book of essays, Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies: On Myths, Morons, Free Speech, Football, and Assorted Absurdities. Kluwe, as you probably know, is the quick-witted, sharp-tongued, outspoken NFL player who catapulted to the forefront of popular culture last year when he wrote a wildly-popular letter to a Maryland politician about gay marriage.

Kluwe stayed in the headlines with his unabashed and unending support for marriage equality, even resigning his position as a St. Paul Pioneer Press blogger after their ham-handed marriage amendment editorial. Because publishing loves nothing more to than to cash in on a star that’s burning brightly we now have a collection of essays by Kluwe that range in topic from marriage equality to time travel to his own eulogy.

In these essays he’s often funny, nerdy, and charming. He’s at his best when he’s discussing video games, his daughters, and football. He doesn’t do so well when it comes to societal woes and social justice issues.

Read More.

you came to hear all about Lexicon, Max Barry’s deliciously nerdy thriller about killer poets.

Yeah, killer poets. And when I say killer, I’m talking gun-wielding, persuasive wordsmiths and not the kind that will do you in with their sighs and melancholy.

Lexicon opens with a confused guy named, Wil, being chased through an airport by men he doesn’t know. All Wil wants is to get into his girlfriend’s car and go home. That doesn’t happen. Instead he’s stuck with Eliot, a coy bastard who won’t tell Wil what’s going on or why there’s a trail of bodies following them as they try to escape. read more

I would like to state for the record that if I had to crawl across a desert of broken glass to read a new Norah Labiner book, I totally would. There is something about her writing that clicks inside of me in a way I can’t wholly explain.

And, truth be told, there were a few times reading her latest, Let the Dark Flower Blossom, where I felt a little like I was crawling through that desert. I was broken, bent, bloody, and imploring Why, Norah? Why?

If had it been any other name on the cover of this literary murder mystery puzzler centered around twin orphans Eloise and Sheldon, I’d have chucked it aside. However, having a prior relationship with Labiner’s work, I was willing to stick with her and trust she would guide me to a safe landing.

Thankfully she did. Read more.