Bonk by Mary Roach

I've read all of Roach's single-word titled books, and she just keeps getting better. This one is about the science of sex. It would be hard to go wrong with this, as it merges two of my favorite topics.

Roach has a delightful sense of humor, and she's very diligent in her research. She traveled to a number of unexpected places during the writing of the book, including a mostly wasted trip to Egypt. Not really a country you'd expect to have pioneering sex research going on, and you'd be right. One determined guy was trying to prove a theory but the government frightened his subjects into not speaking with Roach. Nonetheless, that folly gives you an idea of how hard she works to find people on the margins who might add something to the body of research.

I learned a lot from the book; including a further confirmation of my belief that most of us try to make sex and sexual response seem simple. It can be, of course, but it can also be very difficult to fix certain sexual problems. The whole system is incredibly complex, and those of us who have systems that work reliably should be very, very grateful for them.

The final chapter was my favorite, and it surprised me a little. I won't reveal what she found, but I recommend you read the book and discover it for yourself. Don't let the science part intimidate you. It's science-light, and you'll understand it even if you didn't do well in biology.

Home by Marilynne Robinson

This companion to "Gilead" took me a while to get into. But once I hit my stride I was obsessed. The book centers on two of the characters of "Gilead," and takes place simultaneously. If you've read "Gilead" you will definitely want to check this one out. If you haven't--you should!

The Sealed Letter by Emma Donaghue

I must admit I don't know what's in the sealed letter. I got through the first 50 pages, then decided this was the day I was going to follow through with my recent decision to stop at 50 if I wasn't enthralled. To be honest, there are too many books out there to spend a day reading something that doesn't really grab me.

I was surprised I didn't like this one. Donaghue can usually be counted on to present a well-researched, fact-based tale that transports the reader to the time of the action. But this time it felt like she was saying, "look how much I know about Victorian England." Not that there's anything wrong with knowing a lot about anything. But her facts weren't integral to the story and that left me cold.

Donaghue can tend to write more like an academic than a novelist, and this one seemed devoid of emotion. But her writing is crisp and clear and her facts are always presented well. So you might like this if you crave Victorian tales even when they're on the dry side.

The Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon

I admit I'm a huge fan of Chabon's, so you may want to take my view with a grain of salt. I'm afraid I can't be entirely objective.

The Wonder Boys is his second novel; written after he'd wasted several years (and spent a big advance) writing a bloated opus that he finally abandoned. One day he sat down and started The Wonder Boys and found he could focus and get somewhere again. Improbably, The Wonder Boys is the story of a semi-famous author who can't finish a bloated novel for which he's been paid a large advance.

As someone who writes, I identify with his inability to write what he's supposed to write when he's supposed to write it. So I was fascinated by this tale with such a big true-life thread. It's the old "when life gives you lemons"...

The story is pretty dark and the characters are, for the most part, not terribly appealing. But the plot carried me along and made me not really care that most of the people were self-involved jerks. Chabon has the ability to make me care about people I'd never care about in real life, and I find that a phenomenal gift.

The plot has some twists and turns that I won't give away. Suffice to say that he tells a slightly odd but compelling tale about a writer and his friend/agent. He skewers literary types, academics, novelists and their sycophants and still manages to be tender at times. I haven't read the novel for which he won the Pulitzer since I'm a delayed gratification kinda girl. But I'm sure I'll give in before too long.

Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher

I've read all of Carrie's other books, so when I saw this at the library I picked it up immediately.

She's had a tough adult life; and her childhood wasn't a whole lot easier. I know most people believe that being wealthy, not to mention famous, is the key to happiness. I happen to think it's harder to be happy when you're both.

Carrie's had some intense shock therapy and it has seriously affected her memory, but her sense of humor is pretty intact. This book is a very quick read; mostly full of anecdotes about her family--many of which she doesn't recall. She says her life is more like a movie to her than her life, and I find that rather sad.

She's had a very tough time with depression and being bipolar. But she's trying her best to be a good mother to her daughter and to make sure she sees her grow up. The book is wry and funny; but there's an undercurrent of sadness that runs through it. I recommend it if you're a fan of Carrie's or a fan of old Hollywood. And since it will only take a couple of hours to read it, it's a great book for an afternoon by the pool or the beach.

Bad Mother by Ayelet Waldman

The subtitle of this book is "A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities and Occasional Moments of Grace." While reading it I considered that the subtitle is actually quite accurate. Waldman is one of those moms who doesn't find each moment of raising a child to be filled with joy and delight. As a matter of fact, when she says "moments" of grace she's deadly serious. But you get a real feel for how incredibly important her kids are to her--even though having them and raising them is a hell of a lot of work.

The new crop of "bad mother" books have shone a light on a phenomena many women haven't been comfortable saying aloud. Women raised in the 60s and 70s, that is. They were the women who were going to have it all and when they had kids they were going to do it right. Waldman recounts how there is no "right." Any way you choose is filled with compromises and disappointments. If every woman read and believed this book fewer of them would voluntarily have kids. I think that's a very good thing, since at least 25% of kids in America seem vaguely unwanted. Of course, that's not a scientific sample. Just observations from the mall.

I enjoyed the book and found it funny and poignant at times. Waldman and her husband have money, they live in a great town, they have supportive families and can afford to hire help. And still they struggle to be good parents. I think being a good parent is the hardest job in the world and wish people would only undertake it when they truly have the calling. But I have a felling my wishes are for naught, even with Ayelet Waldman's stern warnings.

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

I put off reading this book for quite a few years. It received rave reviews when it first came out but I was put off by the subject matter and didn't think it would resonate. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

Great writing resonates with anyone who's open to it, and I'm going to remind myself of that the next time a book comes out that doesn't seem up my alley.

In Gilead the narrator, John Ames, begins to write an epistle to his young son. The boy is only 6, but the father is in his 70s and his heart has begun to fail. He knows he won't live to tell his boy all of the tales that he'd like to convey, so he decides to write his "begats."

Ames is a minister, as were his father and grandfather. Both men play central roles in the book, based on their massive influence on John as a boy and a man.

I read the book while sitting outdoors on my deck on a lovely summer day. That was the perfect setting because the book forces you to slow down and adapt to its pace--not your own. It's slow and careful and precise; but always enthralling. That's due to Robinson's prose, which is world-class. She describes a house or a church or a road in Kansas so compellingly that I was utterly transported to the places I read about.

The characters are so lovable, so earnest, and yet so fallible that they seem more real than many people you actually think you know.

I could recount the plot of the book but there's actually very little of that. The story doesn't actually go anywhere. But it goes deeply into the history, motivations, joys and sorrows of one small family in a small town in Iowa in the middle of the 20th century.

I was very touched by this work and I feel a little silly for having avoided it. I've got to learn to trust a good writer, and Robinson is truly good.