Marilyn Levinson's Blog

Recently I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading three novels that I heartily recommend to my fellow readers. Two are hard-boiled mysteries. The third is a mainstream novel that takes place during World War Two on the Isle of Guernsey. These books have three elements in common: intriguing, fully-developed characters, good pacing, and an emotional draw.

Though I write traditional mysteries with cozy elements, I find myself reading grittier stories these days. I’ve fallen for Jack Reacher, Lee Child’s ex-army policeman, in a big way.

ONE SHOT, soon to come out as a movie, keeps you reading nonstop. A sniper is brought in, accused of killing three people. All he’ll say is he’s innocent, and get Jack Reacher. Reacher, a wanderer, finally arrives and is convinced to unravel the story behind the snipe attack. I’ll be leading a discussion of this book June 14, at the Sachem Library.

THE HURT MACHINE by Reed Farrel Coleman was named one of the best mysteries of 2011 by Publishers Weekly. Moe Prager has been diagnosed with stomach cancer and is about to attend his daughter’s wedding when his ex-wife asks him to look into her sister’s murder. Moe unearths ugly secrets and hidden vices, which leads to more than one attempt on his life. The murderer turns out to be someone he doesn’t suspect till it was too late.

THE SOLDIER’S WIFE by Margaret Leroy is the story of Vivienne de la Mare, stranded on Guernsey with her two young daughters and senile mother-in-law during World War Two. Vivienne’s husband, whom she no longer loves, is away fighting the Germans. The German’s bomb the harbor, killing many citizens, and take over the island. Food becomes scarce, yet Vivienne refuses to accept offerings from one of the German officers who has moved into the house next door. He is the enemy. But Gunther persists, and she begins to see him as a kind man. They begin a secret love affair, which changes course when the prisoner she was protecting is shot and she holds Gunther responsible. A touching, memorable novel. �

I write mysteries because I love to read them, and most of the mysteries I write and read come in series. What is it about mystery series we find so appealing — the sleuth we grow fond of, despite his or her irritating habits and occasional bad judgment? The familiarity of setting and characters that help soothe the brutality of murder? Whatever the reasons, here are four mysteries I’ve read recently and have enjoyed, all books in series. I welcome your thoughts and comments.

THE BODY IN THE GAZEBO by Katherine Hall Page
I’m a faithful fan of Faith Fairchild, caterer and minister’s wife, and I’ve read every book in this series. Though most take place in Aleford, MA, KHP is clever enough to give us a spice of variety by setting her novels elsewhere, as well — Sanpere Island, Vermont, New York, France, and Norway to name a few places. There are three mysteries occurring in THE BODY IN THE GAZEBO — one local, one in the distant past, and one in the relatively distant past. It’s this last one that had me chuckling: does the father of the bride remember his weekend with the mother of the groom? As in all Faith Fairchild books, all’s well that ends well.

2. MURDER OF A BOOKSTORE BABE by Denise Swanson
I enjoy the Scumble River mysteries whose school psychologist sleuth, Skye Denison, copes with her job, her bossy mother, and a complicated love life as she helps solve mysteries. In MURDER OF A BOOKSTORE BABE, a young woman is murdered in the newly-opened bookstore. Was she the intended victim, or did the killer mean to murder the owner of the bookstore? As usual, every character has a secret or two that complicates Skye’s investigation.

AN UNINVITED GHOST by E.J. Copperman
I got this book at Malice Domestic, the second in A Haunted Guesthouse Series, and dove right in. Soon I was laughing out loud at one of the funniest bits I’ve read in a long time. Alison Kerby runs a guesthouse on the New Jersey Shore. Two ghosts occupy the house, as well, and Alison is often asked to play Private Eye for other ghosts. The laugh-out-loud part comes in when the cast and crew of a Jersey Shore reality TV show share the house with Alison’s elderly guests, and someone is murdered. You have to like ghosts for this one, and I do.

UNDER THE DOG STAR by Sandra Parshall
You’ll have to wait for this book’s September pub date, then buy it and read it ASAP. This is SP’s fourth book featuring veterinarian Rachel Goddard and Tom Bridger. A pack of wild dogs roams the mountain community of Mason County, VA, and Rachel is determined to capture them and find them homes before a group of vigilantes kill them. Things fire up when a prominent doctor is murdered, his death assumed to have been caused by a feral dog. Tom’s investigation leads him to illegal dog fighting and the cruelty humans bestow on one another. Totally gripping.

That’s what I ask myself as I stare at the mountain of books on my desk. Before they topple down, I arrange them in piles on the floor, then wonder why I bothered to move them. Back they go on my desk. Bookcases, you’d think. We’ve plenty of bookcases in the house, but every one is filled, and we haven’t the room for more.
I acquired these books in various ways. Some I bought, others come from friends. I receive ARCs, can’t resist library sales and used bookstores. Then there are the bagfuls of brand new books acquired at conferences.
My husband urges me to get rid of some of them. I would, but the old books already ensconced in bookcases are keepers. As for the others, I’ve every intention of getting to them as soon as I can. I do my best. I read three books at once. Still, the pile grows faster than I can read. And then come the interruptions — library books I’ve ordered, the latest novels by my favorite authors.
I once complained to a writer friend I found it difficult to get to all the books I planned to read.
“Did you think you could — in this lifetime?” was her answer.
I saw the futility of it all.
Still, I charge on, trying to make a dent in my mountain of books to be read. And believe me, I’m virtuous. I pass on my books to friends and neighbors, usually with the instructions NOT to return them to me. But the mountain grows higher. Like Sisyphus and his impossible task.
I plan to buy an ereader in order to read many of the wonderful books available in that form. Then my mountain of books won’t grow as quickly. Or should I prepare to face reality — that I’ll be owning even more books in the future?
Do many of you have this problem? Please write to tell me how you handle it.

Last month, my red tom, Sammy, took off for parts unknown. He was sniffing around the garage–a favorite activity–when my husband opened the garage door to enter the house. Out flew Sammy! I wasn’t too concerned. Though he’s an indoor cat, Sammy has escaped from time to time, always returning four or five hours later. I’d watch him climb over our fence and race across our lawn–to me and his evening meal.
But this time was different. After dining at friends’, I called to Sammy as usual, but he didn’t appear. I thought I’d heard meowing in the woods behind us, but it was too dark to investigate. I figured he’d be back the following morning.
The following morning came and went. No Sammy. I called out to him as I explored the area behind our home. Nothing. The day passed. Then another. I spoke to various people. Many told me stories of cats that had taken off, only to return home as much as a month later.
My thoughts never wandered far from Sammy. Where was he? Was he trapped in someone’s shed? Someone’s garage? Was he hurt? Lying injured after a tussle with a cat or a dog?
Or was he simply enjoying being outdoors, to wander where he liked?
My husband decided Sammy was basically a wild creature who wanted his freedom. What other indoor cat tried to escape every time the front door opened? I didn’t agree. He was too attached to me–stretched out at my feet as I wrote, jumping onto my lap when I watched TV.
Still, I couldn’t understand why he stayed away. Didn’t he miss me as I missed him? Unless, he was trapped somewhere, and the circle of wondering began again.
I called various agencies to ask if anyone had reported a missing cat. Nothing. I decided to put up signs around the neighborhood, though I didn’t think they’d do much good.
I was preparing breakfast on the twelfth morning of his disappearance, when I heard a meow coming from the deck. And there he was, my long-lost traveler! I grabbed him up in my arms, noting how bony he felt. He must have lost four or five pounds. But other than a slight limp, which disappeared the next day, he seemed fine.
I fed Sammy a small meal and watched him curl up beside the living room sliding doors and go to sleep. Where were you? I wanted to ask. Why didn’t you come home sooner? I’ll never know how he spent his time outside. If he’d been trapped and had only just managed to escape with his ninth life. The important thing was he’d come home.
Lately, Sammy hasn’t tried to get outside, but I won’t be surprised if he does. The lure of the great outdoors is powerful to some indoor cats, especially in the spring and summer. We’re more vigilant now, and do our upmost to keep him from escaping ever again. I want my Sammy safe and sound at home.