Category Archives: Essays

Musings and personal thoughts on life, family, memories, and events.

The Birds Don’t Care If You’re Pretty (Book Review)            

All the rest of these images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

Ava Caldwell’s debut novel The Birds Don’t Care If You’re Pretty is a story of community, friendship, tragedy, and redemption. The fact that the main characters are members of a magical coven in an idyllic setting cranks up the friction and suspense quite a few notches. Teen bullying, romantic rivalries, and risk taking all become tinged with the potential for life and death consequences when dangerous magic is involved.

How far will the characters go to be included, to get their way, to feel love, or to get revenge? Who can be trusted? How does one cope if their magic is taken away from them? And what happens when the reality becomes clear that no one is coming to save them from fate? This story has surprising twists, satisfying character development, and could totally be a movie or tv series. It is a standalone novel, but I would love to read follow up stories or books about the characters because I came to admire some of them and only felt like I was beginning to know their real selves by the end of the book.

I look forward to more from this author if this is only the beginning of her novel-writing career. I’m ready for more!

Caldwell, Ava. The Birds Don’t Care If You’re Pretty, 2024.

Blue Mind (Book Review)      

All the rest of these images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

Blue Mind by Wallace Nichols soothed my soul. I’ve always known water is healing, transformative, magical…but learning some of the science behind those less concrete concepts was extremely affirming. Water is a great equalizer. Some people who are not as mobile as others are buoyed up, gravity no longer a concern. Others who are not comfortable with the vastness of open space can feel protected and enveloped by the extra pressure of water’s embrace. Anxiety and stress can be washed away. Addictions and obsessions can be rinsed off and replaced with water’s allure. And all of us benefit from even a glimpse of an image or painting of water, whether pond, lake, ocean waves, or waterfall.

I’ve always loved the sound of rain and waves. I think most humans’ nervous systems are calmed by those sounds, possibly because they mimic the earliest sounds we heard in our mothers’ wombs. This book delves into nearly any topic you can think of related to our love of water, from surfing, scuba diving, boating, fishing, snorkeling, sightseeing, swimming, and beyond. And even more fascinating, our brains on water can now be studied with advances in technology like fMRI machines. They are learning that spending time in, on, around, or near water enhances our focus, perception, creativity, memory, cognition, connection to others and nature, empathy, health, and mood.

The main thing this book confirmed for me is that I need to take more vacations to the beach, swim in the pool more often, and watch it rain every chance I get. And I probably need to drink more water, too. And science says so!

Nichols, Wallace J. Blue Mind, Little Brown and Company, 2014.

A Happy Pocket Full of Money (Book Review)

Oh my goodness, this book was hard for me to slog through. I’m not exactly sure what was so challenging for me, but I was unable to keep focused for more than a few pages at a time. A Happy Pocket Full of Money by David Cameron Gikandi was chosen as a book club pick for a women’s trading group I’m a part of for Day Trading. I try to play along but this one did not do it for me.

Perhaps I have read too many “Think Yourself Rich” books and have grown weary of the sound bites and platitudes. There must be something to said concepts for so many wealthy people to espouse them. I’m not saying they are false, but perhaps the constant koan-like paradoxes have exhausted me. I don’t know. My brain could not jump from one metaphor to another quote to a different story across a leap of faith required to accept the link between quantum physics and wealth generation. It is probably a failing or weakness on my part, but the threads were too loosely connected for me to follow.

My favorite chapter was the last one, and no, not because it was bringing the ordeal to a close. It was truly the chapter that made the clearest argument that my brain could comprehend. It focuses on money as symbol, only worth the value ascribed by those using it in trade. There is advice about taxes, offshore accounts, investing, energy transfer, ethics, etc., but no practical advice about how to make ends meet when living paycheck to paycheck. It remains a theoretical argument only the rich can claim as proof of success, while pointing to the poor as proof of failure. At some point, those doing all they can to better themselves grow weary of being told if only they believe harder, invest smarter, and intuit better, they too can become rich.

Gikandi, David Cameron. A Happy Pocket Full of Money, Hampton Roads Publishing Company, Inc., 2008.

The following was repeated no less than 500 times in the book:
“I am wealth. I am abundance. I am joy.”
I decided to use those words with AI to see what kind of images would emerge. These are the result:

These images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

How to Stop Time (Book Review)     

I can think of few premises more horrible than that of Matt Haig’s novel How to Stop Time. It is a world where some among us age painstakingly slower than average. The protagonist appears to be in his early 40s but has been alive on this earth for over 400 years. From French aristocracy to quaint village life in old England, from the dangerous streets of Shakespeare’s London to the London of the 21st Century, we are swept along with his story almost against our will. If life is a serious of tragedies with bright spots in between, imagine the tragedies of more than 5 lifetimes. The body still has aches and pains, the mind battles ups and downs, depression, anxiety, but with the added fears of being discovered, labeled a witch, a modern miracle, or a danger.

There are networks built to “protect” these long-living humans, but there are also organizations bent on finding and studying them like lab rats to enhance the lifespan of the rest of humanity. Staying hidden from both is nearly impossible, especially as modern technology advances to the point of photography, video, then internet and cell phones, and eventually social media. And how is one to love, to open the heart to vulnerability, knowing you will outlive any partner, child, grandchild, or friend? Oh, living with the pain of loss would be most unbearable for someone like me. I don’t even enjoy pondering this fictional concept any longer than I must.

But Mr. Haig has masterfully pondered these question and more in his tribute to family, humanity, love, and ode to living in the present. If nothing else, this book has made me thankful that my time here is brief in comparison. It is a good reminder to appreciate what we have and take no one we care about for granted. Change and death are inevitable constants that we must learn to accept; the alternative being the illusion of stagnation until the day we die. 

Haig, Matt. How to Stop Time, Penguin Books, 2017.

Hafiz – Poem 39

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 39:

Forgive the warring of the 72 nations
Not having seen the truth
They’ve gone down the road of fantasy

Some thoughts:

This poem took a little digging to learn about the number 72 in mystical Sufism and other Islamic cultural contexts. Apparently, it was a known phrase representing division or splits that people would have recognized as symbolic, rather than literal. The idea of 72 sects or religious groups became shorthand for fragmentation of what was once unified in hadith literature and early Islamic traditions. For Hafiz to mention 72 nations was to at once tap into phrasing his audience would recognize as representative of all the human groups of the world.

What is even more interesting to me is that he is not condemning all these nations for their shortsightedness but asking for their forgiveness. “They know not what they do.” They are caught in “the illusion” rather than recognizing the truth of peace and harmony. All the nations of the earth come from the same source. We all return to the same source after death. Why not live united in kindness, shared humanity, and communal peace during our short time in this reality? Such a question we could pose to the 197 nations in existence on our planet right now.

My Poem 39:

Can you truly not see
the shimmering promise
of a peaceful tomorrow?

The glow of city lights lies just over the horizon
where nation shall not rise up against nation.

This morass of darkness and despair
is not the truth you seek in your waiting
but merely an illusory nonsensical hellscape.

Continue to put one foot
in front of the other until you reach
the promised land of unity and peace,
where bees drip honey into mouths
open only to speak kind words,
and dams nurse calves languidly,
without fear of being separated by war.

Flowers are grown along every path purely
for making friendship wreaths and decorative
garlands to be given away free of cost or consequence
because nothing is required nor demanded of citizens
in this place beyond breath and awareness and love.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Hafiz – Poem 38

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 38:

I’m not the color of hypocrisy
Either I am a red lion
Or a black serpent

Some thoughts:

I must admit that I am not at all certain of my interpretation of this one. It certainly seems to be along the similar vein of lukewarm water that is repugnant in the Bible verse of the New Testament. Be hot or cold, confident and decisive, real and certain, as opposed to waffling and on the fence. It reminds me a bit of the quote by Yann Martel in Life of Pi when the main character says, “It is not atheists who get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while…but we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.” I do not agree with that take, but understand the passion behind the utterance.

The sentiment I do agree with is that of being authentic rather than performative. Whatever the red lion and black serpent represent, they are the poet’s honest opinions. He is claiming that he will not speak untruth merely to save face or impress a certain crowd. Though the opinion may not be well received, might be complex, might be considered too intense, or venture into unsanctioned territory, he would rather speak his truth than be false or diluted.

I’m sorry, good teacher, but I am quite the fence sitter about some things. It is not always a comfortable position to be in, and one might argue, requires balance, a level head, and an open mind. We will have to agree to disagree for now, though that would also require fence-sitting, so you probably would not agree. lol

My Poem 38:

Rippling ember mane
flows like sun-blood
from roaring flame,
molten courage lava hot,
intense burning marrow
dissolves any tangled knot.

Coiled hidden spine,
a dark river eclipsed
by shadowed night,
deep as space unseen
conceals sudden movement,
striking stragglers of the in between.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Martel, Yann. Life of Pi. Harcourt, 2001.

The Bible. Authorized King James Version, Oxford UP, 1998.

Black Girl, Call Home (Book Review)

I just finished reading a fabulous book of poetry by Jasmine Mans called Black Girl, Call Home. Her dedication is written “For Mommy and Nana”, which spoke to me because I recently lost my grandmother and have been thinking about my relationships with my mother(s), daughter(s), and granddaughters. Her poems are commentary on world events, pop culture, race, gender, sex, family, you name it. Nothing is off limits for a poetic turn of phrase for Ms. Mans. I admire her fierce, unflinching insistence on speaking her true voice about topics I have never been brave enough to write about.

Rather than sharing my thoughts, I thought I would share a few lines of Mans’ poetry.

On mothers: I resent my mother / for things she has sacrificed / on my behalf.

On mothers: I know grace and mercy was raised / by the same single mother.

On God: I have reason to believe / God made dandelions / and metaphors / on the same day.

On Jay-Z: If we past kneeling, / How come we ain’t past dying?

On death: He died / as if / God / thought / he / outstayed / the welcome / in his own skin.

On Kanye (& the Black Aunties): …we know / we made you, / and who are we / to just let / our sister’s son / die?

On Whitney: She sits on an octave / past heaven… / A choir of collateral… / Enough voice to stretch / across the Pacific or the ghetto…

On time: Time / is a Black girl / tapping her red, / 4-inch / nails, against / a mahogany / kitchen table / on Springfield Ave.

There are poems in honor of Serena & Venus Williams, Michelle Obama, Sandra Bland, Halle Bailey, Alysia Harris, Sean Bell, a whole list of women who were sterilized without consent by American doctors, Henrietta Lacks and her immortal cells, a list of missing black girls, lovers, exes, and relatives, including parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles, as well as friends, neighbors, shop owners, and community members. She speaks with a bold, clear voice as a Black, queer, feminist. And I am inspired to broaden the scope of fodder for poetic consideration.

Mans, Jasmine, Black Girl, Call Home, Penguin Random House, 2021.

These images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

the Echo of Old Books (Book Review)

All the rest of these images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I love stories where loose ends are tied up, wrongs are righted, and resolutions are satisfying. I will not give away which elements of this tale adequately meet my criteria, so as not to spoil the ending for anyone, but I will say that I was sufficiently pleased. The Echo of Old Books by Barbara Davis spans the 1940s to the 1980s. The technology of those worlds is so different from today that we forget how differently life was lived until we are placed back in those settings. No social media, no internet, no Googling, no cell phones. Newspapers, books, telephones, and eventually micro phish.

There are layers of intrigue surrounding the uber-rich, pre-WWII antisemitism, psychiatry as a weapon against women (especially the act of having women committed to asylums), and societal shame surrounding children born out of wedlock. But my favorite parts are of course, the tragic romance threaded throughout both the books and the decades. The world seems to always have a problem with letting people who love one another be together, whether because they are the wrong nationalities, colors, classes, genders, ages, or religions. Add family rivalry, childhood loss, and war, and the chances of happily ever after go way down.

At least four generations are affected by the racism, classism, and evil perpetrated by several characters in this story. And the question of whether it is safe to open the heart, heal from the past, and give love a second chance, must be answered by multiple characters, each in their own time and place. Though the specifics of this tale are rooted in one family, the concept is universal. If people are unwilling to face truth, have the hard conversations, and find a safe home where they can be vulnerable, there can be no hope of reconciliation.

Davis, Barbara, the Echo of Old Books, Lake Union Publishing, 2023.

The Love of My Life (Book Review)

This image created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompt using AI on Gencraft.com website.

From The Love of My Life by Rosie Walsh:

“I invite you to think about an event in your past you’d do anything to erase.

You’re bound to have one, even if you’re young. And if you’re good at hiding it, it’ll be there on the strandlines of your own story: sand-camouflaged, unremarkable; visible only to those who know what to look for.

I was good at hiding mine.”

Rosie Walsh does an excellent job of making us question everything about the main character in her novel The Love of My Life. What sort of nefarious past has she kept hidden? Whose side should we be on? The quirky, adorable relationship between her and her unsuspecting husband makes us ache for them, wishing their tale could be less complicated. Can’t there be a happily ever after? Must there be ominous uncovering of stalkers, affairs, criminal activities, deception, danger, loss, and more? Why, yes…yes, there must because Rosie Walsh wants to drag her readers kicking and screaming through every revelation as though we are a character in her book.

Who is the love of Emma’s life? Is it her husband? Is it another man she is meeting in secret? Is it someone yet to be revealed? The twists and turns are well-timed, suspenseful in a way that makes the reader distrust nearly everyone and are satisfyingly straightened out by the end. I enjoyed every second of the tension in this book because it made me love the characters all the more for having endured the stress along with them.

Walsh, Rosie, The Love of My Life, Penguin Books, 2022.

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry (Book Review)

This book was a lovely little slice of life capturing the people of a small island town as they supported one another through the ups and downs we all experience. The quirky characters made me feel reminiscent of the Doc Martin show I used to watch with my husband about characters set in Portwenn, a fictional town on the coast of Cornwall, England. The gruff bookstore owner A.J., certain of never finding love after tragically losing his wife, reminded me of the doctor in Doc Martin with minimal people skills. A.J. loves books. Doc Martin loves practicing medicine. I’ll stop with the comparisons, but I should say that I am a fan of whatever this type of story is—odd outsider becomes an instrumental part of the community. He may be off-putting, but he’s our bookstore owner who is off-putting, sort of thing.

When a special gift is left for him in his bookshop, the life-changing effects are as dramatic and satisfying as one could expect. There is mystery, romance, tragedy, and comedy. And it is all wrapped in a heartwarming tale of people taking care of people. Now I will allow myself to watch the movie, since I finally read the book. I hope it is just as satisfying as the book was. I also enjoyed comparing notes with A.J. about his favorite short stories. I felt quite accomplished that I had read some of the ones he mentions at the beginning of the chapters.

Zevin, Gabrielle, The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2014.