January Reading Choice

Jen R. has picked One Second After by William Forstchen as January's reading! Take a peek at reviews here. The library has several copies available. Happy reading!

February Reading Choices

Here are the choices for Maggie's month:

I'm With Fatty: Losing Fifty Pounds in Fifty Miserable Weeks, Edward Ugel

Ugel (Money for Nothing), freelance writer and Huffington Post blogger, opens his newest memoir with an evocative and eye-grabbing lead sentence ("I'm haunted by mirrors") as he allows us to follow the fat as it melts. He begins with his Bethesda, Md., family life, explaining how he became a freelance writer after he was fired in 2006. Snoring and sleep apnea sent him off to the Center for Sleep and Wake Disorders in Chevy Chase, where he learned he had to drop from 263 pounds to 213, which he saw as a monumental challenge: "Starting a real diet after so many years of eating anything I wanted was akin to turning around a cruise ship." Ugel's task becomes clear as he documents battles lost at lunchtime, candy binges and secret eating: "Every bite tasted like failure." As he visits a health club, gets a trainer, plays racquetball, starts a food journal, does daily workouts, and meets with a nutritionist, the pounds vanish. Recalling embarrassments, triumphs, and defeats, Ugel shares intimate moments of his struggle. After much denial and shame, confronting emotional and psychological issues while fighting his "inner demons," he eventually was stepping on the scales with a Rocky-like determination. When he details the delights of food, one can get hungry just turning the pages. (Publishers Weekly)

Firelight, Sophia Jordan

Descended from dragons, the draki's ability to appear human protects them from hunters. Jacinda lives with her pride in the Cascades, but she chafes under her special status as the only fire-breather in hundreds of years. Recklessly breaking the “no-fly” rule, she attracts hunters; mercifully, one hunter, a beautiful boy who looks upon her with wonder, lets her escape. After this, the pride intends to hobble her rebelliousness, and Jacinda is forced to flee. But while twin sister Tamra, who never manifested and was shunned, is happy with the move, Jacinda feels only anguish within Nevada's desert climate. Then she meets Will and, despite recognizing him as the same draki hunter, feels herself come alive. Jordan's compelling addition to the supernatural star-crossed lovers theme is equal parts taut suspense and sensuous romance, with visceral writing and believable relationships among characters, particularly among Jacinda's family. A foreshadowed twist and a thrilling confrontation in the end pages leave Jacinda heartbroken and in trouble, and readers will howl for more. Grades 8-12. --Krista Hutley

Let the Great World Spin, Colum McCann

Colum McCann has worked some exquisite magic with Let the Great World Spin, conjuring a novel of electromagnetic force that defies gravity. It's August of 1974, a summer "hot and serious and full of death and betrayal," and Watergate and the Vietnam War make the world feel precarious. A stunned hush pauses the cacophonous universe of New York City as a man on a cable walks (repeatedly) between World Trade Center towers. This extraordinary, real-life feat by French funambulist Philippe Petit becomes the touchstone for stories that briefly submerge you in ten varied and intense lives--a street priest, heroin-addicted hookers, mothers mourning sons lost in war, young artists, a Park Avenue judge. All their lives are ordinary and unforgettable, overlapping at the edges, occasionally converging. And when they coalesce in the final pages, the moment hums with such grace that its memory might tighten your throat weeks later. You might find yourself paused, considering the universe of lives one city contains in any slice of time, each of us a singular world, sometimes passing close enough to touch or collide, to birth a new generation or kill it, sending out ripples, leaving residue, an imprint, marking each other, our city, the very air--compassionately or callously, unable to see all the damage we do or heal. And most of us stumbling, just trying not to trip, or step in something awful.

But then someone does something extraordinary, like dancing on a cable strung 110 stories in the air, or imagining a magnificent novel that lifts us up for a sky-scraping, dizzy glimpse of something greater: the sordid grandeur of this whirling world, "bigger than its buildings, bigger than its inhabitants." --Mari Malcolm

March's Reading Choices

Here are Courtney's choices for March:

Born to Run by Christopher McDougall

From the depths of Mexico’s Copper Canyon to the heights of the Leadville Trail 100 ultramarathon in Colorado, from the centuries-old running techniques of Mexico’s Tarahumara tribe to a research lab at the University of Utah, author McDougall celebrates, in this engaging and picaresque account, humankind’s innate love of running. There are rogues aplenty here, such the deadly narco-traffickers who roam Copper Canyon, but there are many more who inspire, such as the Tarahumara runners, who show the rest of the world the false limitations we place on human endurance. McDougall has served as an Associated Press war correspondent, is a contributing editor to Men’s Health, and runs at his home in rural Pennsylvania, and he brings all of these experiences to bear in this slyly important, highly readable account. --Alan Moores

The Road by Cormack McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy sets his new novel, The Road, in a post-apocalyptic blight of gray skies that drizzle ash, a world in which all matter of wildlife is extinct, starvation is not only prevalent but nearly all-encompassing, and marauding bands of cannibals roam the environment with pieces of human flesh stuck between their teeth. If this sounds oppressive and dispiriting, it is. McCarthy may have just set to paper the definitive vision of the world after nuclear war, and in this recent age of relentless saber-rattling by the global powers, it's not much of a leap to feel his vision could be not far off the mark nor, sadly, right around the corner. Stealing across this horrific (and that's the only word for it) landscape are an unnamed man and his emaciated son, a boy probably around the age of ten. It is the love the father feels for his son, a love as deep and acute as his grief, that could surprise readers of McCarthy's previous work. McCarthy's Gnostic impressions of mankind have left very little place for love. In fact that greatest love affair in any of his novels, I would argue, occurs between the Billy Parham and the wolf in The Crossing. But here the love of a desperate father for his sickly son transcends all else. McCarthy has always written about the battle between light and darkness; the darkness usually comprises 99.9% of the world, while any illumination is the weak shaft thrown by a penlight running low on batteries. In The Road, those batteries are almost out--the entire world is, quite literally, dying--so the final affirmation of hope in the novel's closing pages is all the more shocking and maybe all the more enduring as the boy takes all of his father's (and McCarthy's) rage at the hopeless folly of man and lays it down, lifting up, in its place, the oddest of all things: faith. --Dennis Lehane

In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan

Food is the one thing that Americans hate to love and, as it turns out, love to hate. What we want to eat has been ousted by the notion of what we should eat, and it's at this nexus of hunger and hang-up that Michael Pollan poses his most salient question: where is the food in our food? What follows in In Defense of Food is a series of wonderfully clear and thoughtful answers that help us omnivores navigate the nutritional minefield that's come to typify our food culture. Many processed foods vie for a spot in our grocery baskets, claiming to lower cholesterol, weight, glucose levels, you name it. Yet Pollan shows that these convenient "healthy" alternatives to whole foods are appallingly inconvenient: our health has a nation has only deteriorated since we started exiling carbs, fats--even fruits--from our daily meals. His razor-sharp analysis of the American diet (as well as its architects and its detractors) offers an inspiring glimpse of what it would be like if we could (a la Humpty Dumpty) put our food back together again and reconsider what it means to eat well. In a season filled with rallying cries to lose weight and be healthy, Pollan's call to action—"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."--is a program I actually want to follow. --Anne Bartholomew