The Moonstone, by Brandon Sanderson

What a wonderful detective novel! Hailed as the first of its genre, it follows the mysterious Indian moonstone from the original idol in the Far East, through its many owners. The story is told linearly but by different narrators - a history of the stone pieced together, written by the one who had the most knowledge of events and people concerned with the stone at a given time. The way the narrators infiltrate their narratives with themselves is laudable. Collins did a fabulous job with both the writing and the story line - the cleverness of the detective is admirable, the true solution to the mystery is creative, and the stone's final resting place is surprising.

Thud, by Terry Pratchett

The plot of this book revolves around a war between the dwarves and trolls that took place in Koom Valley generations ago. But that’s not what the book is about.

Sam Vimes is a great role model with a lot of common sense. He understands himself and shares that with the reader in a way that makes them a better person. He also notes when he is willfully ignoring common sense and makes sure he knows why he is doing it before he leaps.

Pratchett explores the complexities of life for many different creatures, and the way he advocates restraint is impressive to me. One of the characters is a werewolf, and she laments: “Never mind that life was a daily struggle with the inner wolf, never mind that you had to force yourself to walk past every lamppost, never mind that in every petty argument you had to fight back the urge to settle it all with just one bite.” With the exception of the lamppost, I think those feelings come to everyone, and thinking about it from the point of view of one who deals with being a wolf inside all the time makes the things I face look easy.

Sam is incredibly dedicated to his young son. His example may be a bit larger-than-life, but serves as a reminder of what the most important things in our lives should be, and how our priorities shape the rest of our thoughts and actions.

There is a great deal in this novel about darkness and light. The creatures you would think of as ‘the good guys’ are given the dark qualities, while the creatures you would think of as ‘bad’ end up with the pure, light quality. There is a dwarf sign named the Summoning Dark which is discussed at length throughout the book.  It is deep, awful, and claustrophobic to those who have to deal with it. I found it very powerful that (Spoiler alert:) the one force that was able to resist it was another kind of darkness. I have discussed the restraint Sam Vimes has over the natural man (Pratchett calls it the Beast in some of his other books, in this one rage and anger are cited as the weaknesses). The Summoning Dark meets his match in Sam, who has created barriers within himself to these kinds of things. There is a dialogue between the Summoning Dark and Sam’s guardian, who says he might be called the “Guarding Dark.” He is the one who keep the natural man, or the Beast, from taking over Sam's actions. The guardian says to the summoning Dark “I think you misunderstand. I am not here to keep darkness out. I’m here to keep it in . . . Imagine how strong I must be.” The Summoning Dark leaves Sam, saluting Sam on its way out. The fact that Sam had that curse festering inside him, working to dominate him - that actually ended up protecting Sam and making him stronger. It definitely strengthened his Guarding Dark, which could be related to the will within all of us to bind the natural man. We are strengthened through adversity – that’s a big part of what this life is about.

Also, (Spoiler alert:) at the end of the story, you come to find out that the animosity between the dwarves and the trolls was supposed to have ended in Koom Valley, not started there. The Koom Valley battle that cemented their hatred of each other was supposed to have been a treaty signing. Ah, the failures of men! (Metaphorically, anyway.) Their greed and desire for power seems to overwhelm the good intentions of those who seek peace.

So, on the negative side, one of the coppers has a girlfriend who is a pole dancer. Her lack of clothing is described, and she goes out boozing with two female members of the Watch. A lot of the drinks have inappropriate names. This book is not recommended by me. I wouldn’t want my husband to read it any more than I’d want him to eat delicious brownies that had a bit of doggy poop mixed in the batter. It’s really too bad.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, by Jamie Ford

This is a clean love story about a young Chinese boy living through WWII. There’s a lot of jazz music in it, and plenty of accurate, heart-wrenching history. The family of the main character has difficulty communicating and this is passed on to the next generation, and only semi-resolved by the end. But those kinds of things take time. I didn’t feel the author was a particularly fine writer or that he kept all his facts straight all the time, but his pacing was good and I loved that new, important facts about the main character’s history popped up throughout the novel. I enjoyed the nonlinear narrative.

Reaper Man, by Terry Pratchett

I found this to be a beautiful and poignant description of life and what it means to live. Pratchett’s comic, ever-present political and personal analyses will stick with you too, but when I closed this book, I felt uplifted and renewed.

The character of Death is ‘fired,’ and finds himself with time, something that has not existed for him before. He knows just what to do – spend it. As death learns about life and time, so does the reader. And if, at the end, you do not find yourself with a desire to stand in a wheat field and listen to the wind, I’ll eat my scythe.

Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett

This one is not Pratchett's best, but the fact that it's by Terry Pratchett still means that is it wonderfully hilarious and thought-provoking. Sam Vimes is, as always, a brave and clever hero. My favorite quote:

“The fresh rain glistened on the towers and rooftops, all unaware of the teeming, rancorous world it was dropping into. Luckier rain fell on upland sheep, or whispered gently over forests, or pattered somewhat incestuously into the sea. Rain that fell on Ankh-Morpork, though, was rain that was in trouble.”

Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese

Not recommended. Whoa there is tons of sex in there! This book includes the coming-of-age of a set of twin boys and their female friend, and it lasts a long time. Don't start reading it because the storyline is fascinating and the medical informtaion intriguing. My favorite characters were Gosh and Hema, doctors and parents of the twins. Here are a few quotes about them:

The main character knows his father, Gosh, is terminally ill. “I spent as much time as I could with Ghosh. I wanted every bit of wisdom he could impart to me. All sons should write down every word of what their fathers have to say to them. I tried. Why did it take an illness for me to recognize the value of time with him? It seems we humans never learn. And so we relearn the lesson every generation and then want to write epistles. We proselytize to our friends and shake them by the shoulders and tell them, “Seize the day! What matters is this moment!” Most of us can’t go back and make restitution. We can’t do a thing about our should haves and our could haves. But a few lucky men like Ghosh never have such worries; there was no restitution he needed to make, no moment he failed to seize. Now and then Ghosh would grin and wink at me across the room. He was teaching me how to die, just as he’d taught me how to live.

A young boy has an operation and says of the operating room: “The place left a strong impression on the boy. It was otherworldly, hallowed ground, but still secular. The name “theater” was fitting.”

The main character comes across the original sculpture that his birth mother loved and had a print of over her desk. He had spent his childhood almost thinking of her as that sculpture. He is with his mother, Hema: "We lit candles. Hema fell to her knees, the flame throwing a flickering light on her face. Her lips moved. She believed in every kind of deity, and in reincarnation and resurrection-she knew no contradictions in the areas. How I admired her faith, her lack of self-consciousness—a Hindu lighting candles to a Carmelite nun in a Catholic church.

The main character finds something he’s been looking for for many years: “How like Ghosh this was! … Ghosh trusted me to do whatever it is I would choose to do [with the object]. That, too, is love. He’d been dead more than a quarter century and he was still teaching me about the trust that comes only from true love.”

Night Watch, by Terry Pratchett

I guess I read these in the wrong order, but I still love the role model that Sam Vimes is. He is The Man. He's got most things in life figured out pretty well, and his gut is the best I've ever seen for decision making. Pratchett will make you laugh and cry and laugh. I highly recommend this one.

Here's my favorite passage, and an example of how clear-thinking and valiant Sam is.

            “Who knew what lurked in the hearts of men? A copper, that’s who. After ten years, you thought you’d seen it all, but the shadows always dished up more. You saw how close men lived to The Beast. You found that people like Carcer were not mad. They were incredibly sane. They were just men without a shield. They’d looked at the world and realized that all the rules didn’t have to apply to them, not if they didn’t want them to. They weren’t fooled by all the little stories. They shook hands with The Beast.”

           “The Beast was howling. It wanted to shut that mouth up…

Vimes reached up and tore his badge off…

Vimes was only a step or two away now… The Beast screamed inside Vimes. It screamed that no one would blame him… the man deserved it…

…but young Sam was watching him, across thirty years.

When we break down, it all breaks down. That’s just how it works. You can bend it, and if you make it hot enough you can bend it in a circle, but you can’t break it. When you break it, it all breaks down until there’s nothing unbroken…

Vimes felt his hand begin to move of its own accord—

And stopped. Red rage froze.

There was The Beast, all around him. And that’s all it was. A beast. Useful, but still a beast. You could hold it on a chain, and make it dance, and juggle balls. It didn’t think. It was dumb. What you were, what you were, was not The Beast.

You didn’t have to do what it wanted. If you did, Carcer won.

He dropped the sword.

The Language of Flowers, by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

I wasn't a fan of the voice and was extremely disappointed in the sex scene. Not recommended.

I loved the use of the language of flowers and the courtship of the couple. She makes some very dumb decisions and really doesn't have enough backbone for me, but she is also very human - I appreciated that.

I like non-linear narrative and thought this one was well done. I'm grateful to have learned more about the lives and challenges of foster children.

Taming the Lion Within - 5 Steps from Anger to Peace, by Tonda Chervin, PhD

I enjoyed the examples in this book and found some helpful tidbits. I especially liked the discussions on meekness and its power. Here are a few favorite quotes:

A Christian psycho-therapist, Craig, points out that “Anger is always an attachment to a model of where you wish you were other than where you are, or how you wish it were other than the way it is. The minute you stop having models, your anger goes.”

By contrast, if you trace angry emotions back to the trigger point, you will often find a sense of weakness as part of the problem.

This analysis of anger as related to feelings of weakness can be found in a seminal way in the theories of the famous Dutch-born American psychologist, Conrad Baars. He believed that if the little child feels unloved because of frustration of basic physical and emotional needs, there is anguish in the heart. Anger is a basic response to being too weak to get what is necessary from one’s parents. It recurs later in life in over-reaction to any, even minor, situations of frustration.

St. Thomas Aquinas commented on Matt 11:29, “I am meek and humble of heart.” He wrote: “The whole New Law consists of two things: Meekness (or gentleness) and humility. Through meekness, a man is rightly related to his neighbor (see Psalm 131:1). Through humility, he is rightly related to himself and God (see Isaiah 66:2). Therefore humility makes man capable of (receiving) God.

The 18^th century doctor of the Catholic Church, St. Alphonsus Liguori, was of an extremely angry temperament himself. He wrote: “We cannot be free of the first motions of anger; we have to moderate them. This is done by “Meekness, the virtue of the lamb . . .”