American Music by Jane Mendelsohn

Oddly enough, my least favorite teacher in high school left me with a quote and a lesson that I continue to remember to this day ~ "Music has a way of affecting all of us."  He's absolutely right, at least in my experience.  If you think about all of the little jingles we put together for children to learn the alphabet and their vowel sounds; if you think about how many cell phone lights wave in response to a ballad sung at a concert; if you think about the motivational spark music lights under our feet during our workouts; and if you think about how many of us roll down our car windows, blast that tune, and sing at the top of our lungs without a care for who's watching us, then yes, I would say that music definitely has a way of touching us all.

And this latest read, American Music, definitely sang to me.  If this were a song at a concert, my cell phone light would be waving.

Jumping among several decades, the novel weaves and binds the stories and fates of its seemingly disjointed characters. Characters' stories are revealed through a physical therapist's touch as she works with a wounded Iraq war veteran, Milo.  Honor's therapy sessions with Milo draw out each story that reveal a lyrical and secretive history to which Honor surprisingly discovers she is a part of.  The common thread that they all share is their connection to music. Whether they play an instrument, make the instrument, or just enjoy listening to music, it is the common denominator that drives their destiny.  This is a novel that makes you think about every choice you make, why you make it, and who it will eventually effect in the long run.  It is a story that makes you think about the importance of listening to the song that sings to your heart.

Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen

Well, the proverbial storm clouds have lifted ~ both literally and figuratively.  At least for the time being on my end of the spectrum, it doesn't appear as if the world is ending and the Rapture is coming.  Not today anyway.  I haven't felt any horrible tremors of an earthquake or seen any out-of-control fires sweeping through the nation or witnessed any Biblical-type flooding.  Nope.  It's been quite the opposite, really.  I already had my own personal week of hell and have paid my dues until the next wave hits.  But now things are looking up.  The sun is shining after a full week of rain; my dog seems to be feeling more comfortable; and I have an interview on Thursday for a permanent teaching position.

Huh. .  . Maybe the world is ending. . . lol

Thanks to the few rays of light that are beginning to peer out from the end of the tunnel, I was able to get back into the groove of reading again.  My groove, however, did not include finishing The Invisible Bridge.  I tried reading another 50 or so pages, but it just wasn't holding my interest.  And let's just suppose that this Harold Camping guy happened to be right about the end of the world today.  Did I really want a boring novel that moved slower than my grandmother on a walker to be the last thing I had read before the world swallowed me whole (because I doubt I'd be one of the chosen)?  Not that I was sitting around waiting for judgment but really, life is too short, there are too many good books out there, and I am far too busy to be tied to something that is just not working for me.

Mennonite in a Little Black Dress is also not the last novel I hope to read before my clock runs out, but at least it was mildly entertaining, somewhat humorous, and moved at a pace I could appreciate.  The author's witty and large vocabulary base certainly kept her memoir rolling.  ("Vainglorious" is her favorite word.  It makes an appearance on every page).  But she left me with a huge lingering question, the whole basis of why a novel is written:  What was the purpose in telling her story?  Perhaps it was to prove to the world that she continues to have a large vocabulary base despite the fact that her husband left her for a man named Bob and that she has suffered some major health problems.  After all of this trauma and drama, however, I was really expecting the unveiling of a huge revelation, such as a life-changing lesson learned.  All I really got out of it was her self-deprecating manner in poking fun at the Mennonite religion and culture.

Ah, well.  So be it.  It's not like the world is ending; right?  There's still time to find another novel out there with a purpose.

The Invisible Bridge by Julie Orringer

When it rains, it pours.  I don't consider myself to be a superstitious person by any means, but it seems a little too coincidental that everything came pouring down on me yesterday, Friday the 13th, after an already trying week.

Now that the school year is coming to a close, I have been frantically running around scheduling observation lessons and meetings, asking colleagues and supervisors for letters of recommendation, and revising and sending out my resume to the four school districts in the state that are actually hiring rather than laying off.  It has been a very long, discouraging and frustrating five-year process in trying to find a full-time classroom teaching position in a struggling economy.

We live in a society ~ or at least I grew up with the belief pounded into my head like a sledgehammer from two parents who did not receive a college education ~ that if we go to college and earn a degree we will find a well-paying job; and we will have better successes and more opportunities for advancement with our career.  I watched all of my friends do it.  They live in nice homes, drive beautiful cars, have health insurance, and a retirement plan.  They can afford to go out to dinner once a week or take a vacation (or two!) every year.  Certainly, this belief about a college education can't be a myth.

So when I returned to school later in life after finally figuring out exactly what it was that I wanted to be "when I grew up" and earned not just one, but two degrees, volunteered and participated in community service events and projects, and continue to this day to do everything I can to prove that I am not only a team player but also a leader while plunging myself into thousands of dollars worth of school debt, this whole idea of a college education has been one huge lie.

But I also grew up with the belief that if I quit, I'll never achieve my dream.  I am frustrated, discouraged, and extremely pissed off to put if frankly.  But I'm not willing to give up.

After a week of having my teaching skills observed, praised, constructively criticized; after having a human resources administrative assistant jump down my throat because she thought I was handing her too much information; after receiving rejection letters from 3 out of the 4 schools that are hiring; and after an extremely hectic, emotional, and expensive Friday the 13th with trips back and forth to the vet, another trip to an outside pet pharmacy for medication that our fine pet emergency hospital does not keep on hand to add to the shopping bag full of medications that the vet was able to supply me, and to the pet store to pick up a very specific brand of food for the special dietary needs that my very sick dog now requires, I am just a little bit worn out this week.

(I really needed to vent!)

Needless to say, I got very little reading done for the week.  I began Julie Orringer's The Invisible Bridge.  I'm only 100 pages into a 600 page novel.  The story line is moving very slowly, and I've had a lot of difficulty getting into it (probably because I've been under a tremendous amount of stress.  Do you think? Ha, ha!).  So hopefully things will calm down a bit this weekend and I'll be able to focus and re-armor myself with my "take charge attitude."

Becoming Queen Victoria by Kate Williams

Thank you, Queen Victoria, for pulling me out of my slump!

As a reader, it is so frustrating to have a stack of books that I've been looking forward to reading only to discover that they are all duds.  So after a week of furiously flipping through pages of books in a desperate attempt to fall in love with the characters and get sucked into their stories, I returned to the library for a fresh crop.  It wasn't my intention to pick up a novel about British Royalty.  But apparently the Royal Wedding hype must have been speaking to me because I picked up Becoming Queen Victoria on the day of William and Kate's wedding.

Actually, this book is not just the biography of Queen Victoria; but it is also about her cousin, Princess Charlotte ~ the would-be queen had she not died in child birth.  I found Princess Charlotte's story so much more interesting than that of the queen's.  Charlotte's upbringing was drastically different from that of Victoria's.  Locked away from the public eye and provided with very little education, Charlotte was never properly prepared for her role as future Sovereign.  The royal family at the time, to put it lightly, was a bit crazy.  One has to wonder how a country can maintain its dignity and power when it has not just one mentally ill king bound in straight jacket but his successor as well.  Add philandering, drunk dukes chasing women from one brothel to the next all while the king's daughters are forced to live a spinster's life by keeping them locked in the palace and it's a wonder the country even survived.  Then when the beloved Charlotte dies, a sudden scramble begins for these 40 - 50 something year old princes/dukes to marry and produce the next heir to the throne.

Thus, was born Victoria, daughter of Prince Edward, Duke of Kent and Victoria, Duchess of Kent.  Unlike her cousin Charlotte, Victoria's manipulative, deceiving mother pulled every string she could to provide Victoria with the best education and preparation for her role as future queen; and she knew she had to work fast.  With the death of her father a year after she was born and with an aging, ill uncle as Sovereign ruler, it was likely that Victoria would take the throne at an early age.  She became Queen of England when she was only 18 years old.

I was a little worried that when I started this book that it would read like a history book and provide me with an endless list of dates for wars, battles, and signed peace treaties; but it read more like a story.  I was surprised to learn that both Kings George III and IV suffered from mental illness and that George III's sons were so frivolous with their habits.  It made me wonder what would have happened had Princess Charlotte survived and become queen.  How would Britain's history have been changed, especially since her upbringing was so drastically different than Victoria's?  It was certainly an entertaining read, but not something that left me enthralled.