December-January Reading Wrap Up Part 2

Hello friends!

I hope your winters are wrapping up nicely. Though winter is my favorite season, I look forward to the spring’s sense of change and excitement. We still have about a month left of winter, though, so I’d like to take a final look back at what books kept me warm this past holiday season.

Can you believe this constitutes as a snow day in Seattle?!


The Girls by Emma Cline

If you’re like most people, you’ve already read Cline’s debut novel about a group of fictional girls in a Manson Family-like cult. The Girls takes place in Northern California, at the end of the 1960’s. Evie Boyd is a typical teenage girl, fighting with friends and exploring boys, when she stumbles upon a group of beautiful girls walking through the park. Caught up in their allure and charm, Evie joins them on the family ranch, and falls in love with the charming and soon-to-be-infamous cult leader. Before she knows it, Evie’s life is sent into a tailspin.

Emma Cline’s debut novel has good bones but rotting meat. Cline gained her footing in the last moments of the novel, but I had been drug around too long before that to truly enjoy it. Her prose was overwritten and pretentious and her plot was little more than awkward and graphic sex scenes. She wraps up the excitement in the final moments of the novel much too quickly, and moves too slowly before that to capture, or keep, my attention. I’m planning a post where I’ll say more about this, but if you’d like to catch the full review, click here. (2.5 Stars).

Why Not Me? by Mindy Kaling

In her sophomore memoir, Kaling discusses her hit TV show The Mindy Project, life as a woman in Hollywood, and more outrageous stories from her life on and off the camera.

Why Not Me? is a vast improvement over her first book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (and I really enjoyed her debut). There’s something in this book for everyone. There’s anecdotes for the die-hard fans, love stories for the romantic, fictiony fun things for those who just want to be entertained, and an inside look at being a Hollywood boss for everyone in between. If you deserve a treat (and you do), pick this up. It’s a great read from someone who could be your best friend. (4 Stars).


The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

Santiago, an Andalusian shepherd, dreams of a world beyond his flock – one full of travels and treasure. But it isn’t until an encounter with a strange man that Santiago begins the journey of a lifetime, teaching his readers the importance of acting on one’s dreams.

I know the year has just begun, but The Alchemist is already a serious contender for my worst book of 2017. Coelho doesn’t know how to write. His great brilliance and quotable moments are stifled by his inability to craft a novel. Rather than incorporating his philosophies and wisdom into his novel through metaphor or craft, he will quite literally place a character in the story and say verbatim what he wishes to say. This was lazy and talentless and made for a boring read. His plot is boring, his characters are flat, and his prose is bland. I cannot imagine a more “meh” feeling novel. (Full Review) (2 Stars).

I enjoyed getting off campus this winter by taking a walk around Discovery Park

Happy Family by Tracy Barone

Happy Family is full of anything but. Cheri Matzner is the middle-aged version of a child abandoned in an inner city health clinic. Her marriage is in shambles, and, to make matters worse, childless. Her relationship with her parents is complicated, and with little hope of repair as her father has recently passed. Those same parents were the ones who adopted baby Cheri, after suffering a hopeless tragedy that leaves one of them feeling ostracized from the family unit.

much fuller review will be posted when I review all books published by Lee Boudreaux Books, but overall, Happy Family is a breathtaking debut. Barone’s novel is expertly paced and full of rich and consistent characters. Her plot is a bit scattered, as she changes directions several times, but her overall work is a beautiful tribute to families, broken and otherwise, and I strongly urge you to pick this up. (Full Review) (4 Stars).

Born a Crime by Trevor Noah

You may know Trevor Noah from his stand up comedy, or his new position as the “anchor” of The Daily Show. His accent, look, and comedy are well known. Less known, is his story. The son of a black woman and a white man in the height of South African apartheid, Noah’s very existence was a crime. In his searing and honest memoir, Noah recounts his South African childhood, and sprinkles in a good deal of South African history and culture as well.

As is my style, I knew very little about Trevor Noah before diving into his book. Perhaps for this ignorance, I preferred the essays on South Africa, more than I enjoyed the ones on Noah’s life. But I think my preference came more from my dislike of his portrayal of himself. I didn’t find his anecdotes to be funny or relateable. In fact, I found them to be off putting. Maybe pick this up if you’re a huge fan of Trevor Noah, but otherwise, it really isn’t worth too much of your time. (Full Review) (3 Stars).

Did I mention how beautiful it is in Discovery Park?!

 Uninvited by Lysa TerKeurst

This is a devotional/memoir style Christian book addressing the topic of rejection – rejection from lovers, from friends, and from life itself. It is a story of accepting yourself, and accepting Christ’s love for you in the middle of pain and insecurity.

Not only is Uninvited not too feel-goody, a common pitfall for the genre, but TerKeurst’s theology is deeply developed too. She doesn’t just drop in a Bible verse for fun; she dives into its deeper meaning. Occasionally, she, like many pastors, over-enunciates an incidence’s theological meaning. Sometimes a dinner party really is just a dinner party, and not a divine message about your loneliness. Generally, however, Uninvited is a wonderful portrait of human brokenness and longing, relieved only by a divine maker who is truly all we need. This book came at a critical juncture in my life, and its message is wholly applicable and appreciated. (Full Review) (4 Stars).

You Fall Off, You Get Back On: A Patchwork Memoir by Mary Stobie

Mary Stobie, a former columnist for Rocky Mountain News, gives a peek into her life as an American cowgirl, mother, and friend. Some essays are recycled from her journalism career, and some are brand new to readers. Stobie’s story is one of resilience, triumph, fun, and family.

You Fall Off, You Get Back On is a charming memoir, if a bit disjointed as a collection. She manages to say a lot, yet not make much ground. While her work is funny and full of unique perspectives of a true rural-fringe Denverite, her amateur hand shows. Not that this should be all that surprising or annoying, her book is small market, and blissfully non-pretentious. I walked away from my reading feeling a lovely sort of connection with Stobie, even if it was a bit shallow. If you’re a Denver native, or have fond memories of the Rocky Mountain Post, as I do, feel free to give this a read! You may just reclaim a bit of the old small-town feeling Denver. (3 Stars).

Wise words from “Uninvited”


DNF: This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab (2 Star Review); Two By Two by Nicholas Sparks


Let me know what books you read this past month, or if you’ve read anything I have, by posting in the comments below!

You can follow Ben on Twitter, Tumblr, and read along with him on Goodreads.






December-January Reading Wrap Up Part One

Hi friends!

As I mentioned in my last post, I know I’ve been missing these! I’m so sorry!! I felt like this list was too big for one post, so check back soon (or follow) for part two!

Love you all!!

Discovery Park in Seattle is a Great Stop if You’re in Town!

The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate – Discoveries From a Secret World by Peter Wohlleben

Peter Wohlleben’s non-fiction best seller focuses on the forests of Europe as living, breathing creatures, with a surprising amount of social interaction and dependency. He uses groundbreaking science to explain how trees communicate, build social networks, and reveals a entirely new world of nature.

My first DNF of the month, Wohlleben’s work is unable to stand on his interesting subject matter alone. As all translations are muddy, it isn’t clear whether this bad prose is Wohlleben’s fault, or a victim of translation. Nevertheless, this book reads like it was written by a third grader (who happens to be very smart in the sciences). No matter how interesting a book is, bad writing simply won’t do, espcially with a book that is comprised of dry science. I wouldn’t recommend unless you are greatly interested in forestry. (2 Stars)

Springtime: A Ghost Story by Michelle de Kretser

Part love story, part ghost story, de Krester’s novella flips the conventions of a typical ghost story on its head. There are no stormy nights here, no abandoned, isolated protagonist. Instead, Frances, a young art historian, spots a ghost in the most unlikely of places – a suburban garden in sunny, subtropical Sydney.

I was really excited for this story, but found it to be too disjointing. de Kretser had an interesting concept with an anti ghost story but she got too distracted. Had this been longer, perhaps it would have been better, but such a short novel was jam packed with too much and it was a letdown. Cannot recommend, unfortunately. (1 Star).

Harmless Like You by Rowan Hisayo Buchanan

This debut novel, due out in February 2017, was the subject of my latest ARC Review you can find here!

Wish I Had More Time to Read but Thankful for the Opportunity to Learn feat. my real name  

Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

This National Book Award Winner is an essay-style letter from Coates to his teenage son on what it means to be black in America today. It is part memoir, as Coates explores his time at Howard University, and part history lesson, as Coates explores topics from the Civil War. It is an analysis of the Black Lives Matter Movement, police brutality, and slavery. It has been hailed by Toni Morrison as “required reading,” and can be found on shelves across the nation.

feel like I missed something. While I appreciated Coates stories and ideas, I longed for more organization. Coates’ work was stylistically disjointed and fast paced, so I felt like I never got my feet underneath me. Between the World and Me was wonderfully written and, when I fully understood and digested, powerful and fresh. But overall, I simply felt I had missed a great many somethings (3 Stars).

The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman

In 1920’s Australia, we meet Tom, a former solider fresh off the Western Front. Craving peace and quiet, Tom takes up a lighthouse keeper’s job on Janus Rock, an island far off the coast. Secluded from society for years at a time, the only company Tom has is his new wife, Isabel. After two miscarriages, the grieving and angry couple gets a second chance at parenthood when a living baby and dead man wash ashore. Isabel decides to keep the baby, whom they name Lucy, and raise her as their own. When they return home, however, Lucy is two, and they remember they aren’t alone in the world. Their choice has devastated one of them.

enjoyed the end of this book much better than the beginning. Though I consistently felt engaged with the story, and surprised by it, it seldom felt great or strikingly special. I enjoyed reading this, and commend the work for taking control of my emotions so powerfully. It was similar toThe Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society in that it was good and delightful, but not particularly special or well written. A great, easy beach read, but perhaps not entirely deserving of the warm water-cooler recommendations it has received (Full Review). (3.5 Stars)

Young Ben (L) Crushin’ the Game Circa 1998(?) 

Another Day in the Death of America: A Chronicle of Ten Short Lives by Gary Younge

On average seven children or teenagers will be murdered by a gun each day in America. Younge’s project focuses on just one day, November 23, 2013. Through extensive research and interviews, Younge located ten people, all between the ages of 9 and 19, who died via gun violence on that day. Detailing their lives, deaths, and social/political factors for them, Younge leaves few stones unturned in his examination of America’s gun problem.

When successful, Younge’s necessary and timely book is a beautiful tribute to dead children, accomplishing, if nothing else, a medium of which to say “I see you.” Its less successful moments came in organization. While most of the chapters (1 chapter per victim) focused on a balanced (or somewhat balanced) mix of story and societal factor, several chapters lacked any balance, if it included both facets at all. Additionally, particularly towards the end, Younge becomes less focused (or, perhaps more so) and drags well beyond the point in which I had lost interest. These were minor points though. Younge’s book makes you cry, seethe in anger, and understand an issue like gun violence as an entity far more complex than extremists on either side of the aisle may lead you to believe (Full Review). (4 Stars).

Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman

Challenger Deep focuses on Caden Bosch. An offbeat novel about life with mental illness, Caden’s story is told in two parallel story lines. In one, he is Caden Bosch: high school student, track team member, and geek. In the other, he is the artist-in-residence of a ship headed straight into Challenger Deep, the southern part of the Marianas Trench. As the two stories collide, Caden will race to make it out alive.

Challenger Deep is an interesting, odd little story. Neal Shusterman paints an incredibly vivid portrait of mental illness in this work, but outside of those suffering from brain illnesses, this novel offers little. While there was a time when my mental illness was parallel to the illnesses of Caden Bosch, I no longer feel the same way that Caden does. So, for me, there was already a bit of a disconnect. Further, while the novel took on an interesting shape to begin with, and was compelling, it quickly stagnated, and fell back into cliches and became repetitive and boring. As a result, I made it out 75% of the way through before abandoning. There just wasn’t enough substance to keep me going. (2.5 Stars).

SFO #noban Protest -Jan 29, 2016
“SFO #noban Protest – Jan 29, 2016”  by Kenneth Lu is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond

The poorest residents of Milwaukee are the focus of Harvard sociologist Matthew Desmond’s powerful fieldwork project. Desmond’s readers journey through the American renting process as two landlords and a host of renters. Some lead happy lives, getting by the best way they can. Others are junkies and addicts, scrambling to get a fix. All, however, are key players in the system of American poverty.

Evicted deserves six stars – it’s that good. Desmond’s project is not only a richly documented field study, it’s an engaging page turner that’s so well structured it reads like fiction. I loved every minute of it. Desmond’s greatest strength is his unflinching honesty.  He simply introduces us to a cast of characters, all a little good and a little evil, and draws his truthful conclusions from there. Desmond makes his readers angry, depressed, and hopeful. He makes us so invested that, like a train wreck, we do not dare to turn away. I loved this book. Please, pick it up (Full Review). (5+ Stars).
And, to learn how you can help homeless or at risk families and individuals, please visit the author’s site, 

The Arrival by Shaun Tan

In silent graphic novel form, Shaun Tan crafts a story about a young immigrant moving to a new country. Infused with horrifying and stunning magical realism, Tan communicates the confusion, terror, and loneliness of the immigrant experience. A timely read, Tan’s masterpiece is a must “read” for anyone hoping to understand the ramifications of a Trump presidency.

It is a common “ice-breaker” question to ask “if the whole world were listening, what would you say?” I’ve never had a good answer to that question, and I still don’t, but if I had all the world’s attention in this moment, as we watch children in Aleppo buried under rubble, as we’re taught to fear our Mexican and Muslim siblings, as we’re waging wars of division, I would simply say “please take Shaun Tan’s message to heart.” Then, I would give each member of the human race a copy of this book to review. While not perfect, and certainty not the best graphic novel out there, The Arrival takes a deeply relevant and important stand, and it does it without ever saying a word (Full Review). (4 Stars).


Let me know what books you read this past month, or if you’ve read anything I have, by posting in the comments below!

You can follow Ben on Twitter, Tumblr, and read along with him on Goodreads.


Reading Rahab and Refugees

Hello friends,

I know it’s been a while and I owe you all reading wrap ups for December and January (hoping to post those soon!). This quarter has been eating up my time left and right, which hasn’t left much room for reading or for blogging! But I wanted to share some thoughts with you all regrading President Trump’s recent legislation, and the wider attitudes a vast majority of Americans are struggling with right now.

In my Christian Scripture class, we’ve been working our way through the Bible. This past week, we’ve found ourselves in Joshua, among other books, and we stumbled upon this peculiar story of a prostitute God chooses to save in His destruction of Jericho. (Feel free to read along with me in Joshua 2! I’m using the NRSV.) Rahab is peculiar, not because of what her profession is (though we should certainly take this into account), but because of her attitude.

In our discussion of why Rahab is promised protection, a few important characteristics pop up. First, Rahab acknowledges the Hebrew’s God as legitimate and powerful. She kneels before a God she does not intimately know, something even the Israelites, who have every reason to fear and honor God, struggle to do (Joshua 2:8-11). This is no small feat, but it isn’t the characteristic I want to explore right now.

She does something crucial, feeding into a theme the Old Testament is defined by: she welcomes strangers into her home. She doesn’t ask questions. And when her king orders a search party, and soldiers stop by her house to interrogate her, she lies for them, and keeps them safe (Joshua 2:2-5).


When President Trump announced the new restrictions for immigration from “dangerous” countries, my social media feeds erupted with cheers from my Christian and conservative friends:

“Our boarders are safe!!”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry – or worse, beheaded on live TV

“Thank you, Trump, for protecting us from the reaches of ISIS!!”

And I struggle, friends. I struggle because I want to be Rahab in the middle of a sinful Jericho. I want to be a city of light on a hill of suffocating darkness. I want to open my home, my wallet, my boarders. If that means the king’s men are coming to knock on my door: I want to have the courage and the bravery to say I do not know where the spies, the refugees, the strangers, have left to, as I hide them on my roof.

Rahab and her family escaped the destruction of Jericho because the God that she bowed to honored her commitment to the stranger. She opened her door, fearless of the consequences, and God did not turn His blind eye.

Friends, if you’re someone who is cheering for Trump’s policies because you are afraid, have faith. The God who freed slaves, rained manna from the heavens, and crumbled the walls of Jericho with some trumpets and feet, is bigger than any ideology on this Earth. He is bigger than any person with a bomb (who, statistically, isn’t even banned via this new restriction, but I digress). He is bigger than a country. He is bigger than a king.

I believe in a God who topples walls, opens doors to strangers, and protects those who are strong and courageous. I believe in the Rahabs of the world. And, dear friends, when the city of Jericho falls, I have faith that no man made door will protect me. But a rope from some strangers just might.


Harmless Like You: ARC Book Review

Rowan Hisayo Buchanan’s debut novel about identity, abuse, art, and familial bonds, packs several punches. Harmless Like You is a breathtakingly crafted story of mother and son. First, we meet Yuki Oyama, a teenage Japanese-American immigrant, caught in the cross heirs of identity in an early 1970’s New York. Her father has been on a years-long exile to America for work when he is finally called back. Torn between leaving the only land she’s ever known, and losing her family, Yuki ultimately decides to remain in the Big Apple, with her only friend, Odile, the beautiful and cunning aspiring model. Then, we meet Jay, Yuki’s adult son in 2016 Connecticut and Berlin. Still dealing with the abandonment of his mother when he was just two years old, Jay enters into fatherhood, reeling with discontentment and frustration. As the novel builds, Hisayo Buchanan seeks to answer “how does a mother desert her own son?”.

Full of beautiful, literary prose, Hisayo Buchanan’s novel is hard to get into. Once there, however, I was hooked. Her voice is fresh, intelligent, and compelling. The characters are well crafted, and, unlike other books detailing abuse and abandonment, feel real and consistent. Only Jay’s father feels forced for the narrative, but the other characters don’t excuse his behavior, and call him for being unlike a human, flawed and difficult, making the improbability of his character feel possible.

Hisayo Buchanan’s biggest asset though, is her climatic structure. She arrives with a big sense of occasion and gradually and consistently builds the action, never dragging anything out, or forcing us to choke down the complexity of a fleeing mother in the last 20 pages of the novel. Authors I’ve read in the past err on one side or the other, but Harmless Like You splits the difference, making this one of the best crafted novels I’ve read in a while.

And yet, as with any debut, there is room for improvement. At times, it feels Harmless Like You is too big, trying to do too much. While Hisayo Buchanan’s ideas are breathtaking and well argued, they can fell a bit pretentious and awkwardly placed. Similarly, she crammed a lot of themes into this book, all of which were wonderfully crafted, but occasionally felt overwhelming.

Nevertheless, I read Harmless Like You in two blissful, desiring sittings, and wouldn’t have put the book down for anything. It is a breathtaking, accomplished novel, so rich and full, your next read will dull by comparison. For a debut, Rowan Hisayo Buchanan has much to be proud of. (4 Stars).

Pick up Harmless Like You when it’s released in February 2017.

ARC provided by publisher via a Goodreads giveaway. 

November Reading Wrap Up

Happy Belated Thanksgiving!!

This month was a slow reading month for me and, for the more astute members of the audience, not at all full of what I had planned to read for this month. Nevertheless, here is my November wrap up.

The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil by Stephen Collins

In Stephen Collins’ rhyme-laden graphic novel, the land of Here is perfect. Not a hair is out of place and everything is in order. There, on the other hand, is a dangerous and chaotic place, where anything goes. Luckily, an ocean separates Here from There, so all the villagers in Here can remain orderly and beardless. Beardless, that is, until amateur artist Dave (who’s completely bald) develops an uncontrollable, terrifyingly thick monster. After Dave, all hell breaks loose.

At once hilarious and profound, Collin’s exploration of uniqueness inside a standardized, media-saturated world (not unlike that in which we now fear) is a breathtaking achievement. The art ranges in quality but is generally beautiful and engaging. The story is illogical and heartfelt, and the rhyme scene Collins employed is charming and surprisingly successful. The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil is full of a world of characters, few of which matter, but all of which are interesting and fun to engage with. The ending is touching and tear-jerking, making this graphic novel one to be celebrated and revered. (4.5 Stars)

Doesn’t this picture of the Lenin statue in Fremont just ask to be after this book?

A Mother’s Reckoning: Living in the Aftermath of Tragedy by Sue Klebold*

As a parent, how unconditional is the love you have for your child? Would you love them if they were gay? If they became a teenage parent? If they stormed into their high school and viciously murdered 13 people and seriously injured 24 others before killing themselves? This last one is a question Sue Klebold has been wrestling with for the past 17 years. It hasn’t so much been would you love, but how can you? Her memoir seeks to humanize Dylan, not so much to excuse him, but to wake other parents up – to encourage the asking of tough questions and acknowledge the ways in which we, as society, have let our children down.

Sue Klebold is a gifted, if inexperienced writer. Her prose is poetic and haunting, but her organization and editing needs fine tuning. She repeats several stories and ideas, seemingly lost in her own head, which, while not necessarily enjoyable, does present a powerful metaphor for the chaos she is enveloped in. A Mother’s Reckoning: Living in the Aftermath of Tragedy is a courageous and moving portrait of a family torn apart, and a grim reminder to not only hug the ones we love, but look them in the eye and ask, honestly, how they are doing. (3.5 Stars).


The Social Life of DNA: Race, Reparations, and Reconciliation After the Genome by Alondra Nelson

DNA is most famous for its miraculous crime-fighting and medical help, but less recognized is the little mass’s genealogical uses. Perhaps just as important as its more famous history, Dr. Alondra Nelson explores DNA’s role in the black community, specifically as it applies to healing and recognition of American slavery. An emerging, if surprising, tool in the fight against racism, deoxyribonucleic acid has once again proven its worth.

It would be a mistake to begin this review anywhere other than with the cover design (Bob Kosturko). The longer I looked at it, the more I liked it, and I always felt smart and cool carrying it with me. As for the insides, understand I sat in on a lecture of Dr. Nelson’s in which she pretty much summed up this book, so I skimmed this more than read it. Nelson does a great job of making her science relatively easy to understand, even if her delivery is dry and overly academic. Her observations are acute and her subject matter, interesting. She seeks to tackle a great depth of intersecting social and biological sciences, and is generally successful. While this book was interesting, I think there are better investments for readers interested in race and genetics. (3 Stars).

View from the plane ride back to school after contracting pancreatitis from Thanksgiving.


A Manual for Cleaning Women: Selected Stories by Lucia Berlin

Lucia Berlin saw moderate acclaim during her life (1936-2004) for her inventive and affecting short stories. Aside from work as a beloved faculty member of the University of Colorado Boulder (sko buffs!! – I’m joking, I’m a rams fan. Anyway…), Berlin largely went unnoticed until her editor, Stephen Emerson, complied this collection, earning Berlin a well deserved spot in the New York Times  10 Best Books of 2015. Her stories deal primarily with the ordinary life in the American Southwest and South America, and always have wit, sizzle, or a shock to them. They feature strong characters in the forms of nuns, hitchhikers, mental patients, and prisoners, and establish Berlin as one of the greats.

As has become my tradition, each story in this collection was (briefly) individually reviewed here. As a whole, I loved this collection. Berlin is one of the most gifted writers of recent memory, and it is both a shame and an embarrassment that she remained so unknown for so long. Editor Stephen Emerson gave her a beautiful posthumous tribute, in that each of his selected pieces were well done, and flowed nicely from one story to the next. The biggest critique I have is with Rodrigo Corral and Colleen Griffiths’ jacket. In all though, this was a true accomplishment, and I feel a sort of peace with finally knowing the genius and artist that was Lucia Berlin. (4 Stars).


Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church by Rachel Held Evans**

Christian Church leaders have been shocked and reeling from the loss of the Millennial base in their Sunday sanctuaries. Evans, a popular blogger and New York Times Bestselling Author, turns her focus to this problem, which, for Evans, is personal. Overwhelmed and fed up with the big church politics and corruption, her and her husband Dan left their home church, and became nomads, frequently sleeping in on Sundays and changing churches week to week. Searching for Sunday is her quest to discover why she feels the way she does about the Church.

Part theology, part criticism, and part memoir, Searching for Sunday is surprisingly successful in its many pursuits. It is a hard, but necessary, look at the modern church’s failings. This is also one of the best written non-fiction books I’ve read in a while. Evans writes about her pain beautifully and palpably. I learned an incredible amount from this book, and it reached down into the doubting, unsure part of me, to validate all the facets of emotions I was feeling. This is a true winner and a pleasure to read (5 Stars).

Thanks for reading! Hope you all are able to check these out!!! Leave a comment and tell me what you read this month, and feel free to leave suggestions for what I should check out this December!



Follow Ben on TwitterTumblr, and read along with him on Goodreads.

A Mother’s Reckoning: Book Review & Reaction


This month has been challenging for me. Three funerals, ending the quarter, and a shocking and appalling election season, have left me feeling burdened, scared, and alone. I had solace though, a woman I have never met, though I have always been connected to kept me company as I grieved and writhed in anger. Her name is Sue Klebold. She is a teacher, an administrator, a mental health advocate, and the mother of “Monster Next Door” Dylan Klebold, who committed one of the worst atrocities of the century.

A few months ago, my parents sat in on a lecture called “Leaving the nest,” to help them as I left community college and entered university, 1300 miles away from home. In it, a psychologist, tasked with consoling our parents, gave a brief summary on life through our eyes. He said that Newtown was our Columbine, and while I understand his point in a macro-generational sense, it simply does not describe me. For nineteen years I lived five and a half miles from Columbine High School, nestled into a Littleton Neighborhood. Our high school had a club dedicated to Rachel Scott, the first victim of the massacre. Every April 20th, beginning about the 18th, the air becomes heavy and Littletonites will tell you the tangible feeling of doom and dread the date brings with it.

I grew up with Columbine, and while our community upheld (and continues to uphold) our promise to never forget, my mother taught me another lesson too. She taught me to pray for the Harris’ and the Klebold’s, and more the hundreds of parents just like them. My mother always made it clear in our household how disgusted she was with our town’s reaction to Eric and Dylan’s parents, and I, too, always mourn the lives of Eric and Dylan, and send a prayer up for their parents, each April 20th, as I mourn and pray for the victims. So you can imagine my discomfort with reading reactions damning Sue Klebold for writing her story and trying to educate other parents on the nature of “brain illness.”

A Mother’s Reckoning: Living in the Aftermath of the Columbine Tragedy is a hard but important look at the life of Dylan Klebold, and the legacy he left for parents Sue and Tom, and brother Byron. Klebold is honest and heartbreaking. She seeks to, not pardon Dylan, but to humanize him, to wake up the people who think something like Columbine would never happen to them. She wrestles with the question: how do you mourn someone the world has come to hate? How do you acknowledge your own grief, and also mourn the lives your son stole?

Sue Klebold’s knack for writing is apparent but her editorial team let her down. While beautiful, her research-infused memoir is chaotic and disorganized, perhaps representing her own psyche as she grapples with guilt and suffering.

Klebold had a front row seat to the unraveling of a nation, and she and her family suffered the eye of the rage and silence of the hurricane. Her memoir is never self-serving or naive, and her heart is spilled out on every page. While it took me a while to muster up the courage to dive into this, I’m so glad I took the time, and took it when I did. If you need a friend, or someone who understands, turn to Sue. She has few answers, but her tolerance for questions is inspiring, and her anger, confusion, and grief is present of every page. I urge every person to pick this up, and to approach it with an open heart and mind.

Thanks for reading! Hope you all are able to check these out!!! Please feel free to connect with me on Twitter and Tumblr, and read along with me on Goodreads. This November I’m reading: A Manual for Cleaning Women, The Social Life of DNA, and The Goldfinch.

How Love Can Still Win

The overwhelming feeling I have right now is hopelessness. It’s been growing this whole week, long before any election results were in and it has hit a fever pitch tonight.

It’s no secret, if you’ve been following this blog, who I voted for, but I think hatred and vitriol has been seen on both sides of the aisle. Yes, Donald Trump himself has demonstrated more of this. We’ve seen it at his rallies, we’ve seen it on his Twitter feed, and we’ve seen it in his policies. But Clinton supporters can’t be let off the hook. Hatred and a refusal to understand has been seen on the blue side too.

We’ve done what we can for the presidential election and for our states. We will have a winner, and more and more it’s looking like the orange man won. I’m not interested in him. Frankly, if Hillary pulls this out (and I hope to God she does), I’m not interested in her.

What I am interested in, is you. You have a choice to let love win. We will have little say in policy. We will have little say in what happens in government after today. We will have much say in how we respond to our brothers and sisters and friends somewhere in between. Take time this week to bake cookies for your neighbor, smile at someone on the street, or ask someone, sincerely, how their day was.

Reach out across the aisle and ask questions, not to be right or to be wrong, not with assumptions or with your preconceived notions, but to genuinely ask what their worries are. Who do you they hate and why? How do they feel about America and why? What do your hopes and dreams for the country look like?

You no longer have a say on which party wins the election. You do still have a say on whether love or hate will win. You still have to decide, right now, whether we can heal or whether we will burn. Love can still win. I have to believe that; I choose to believe that. Whether you voted for Trump or for Clinton, you can decide whether or not love will win.