Finding the right books at the right time

There's a quote I love from "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society" (another book I keep recommending!)  You probably know it;  “Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers.”

It's happened to all of us, hasn't it? 

It popped into mind as I was deep into my first Randall Silvis novel. A new to me author I discovered through NetGalley.com.  

An author with a protagonist, Ryan DeMarco, who is both darkness and light.  

A protag who has seen and lived the worst the world could give him, and yet never gives in.  He comes close sometimes, but then . . . he's back.

He's able to find hope in beauty - poetry, literature, music and nature.  

He's philosophical by nature and Randall Silvis gives Ryan DeMarco a voice that resonates with intelligence, feeling, empathy and great depth. 

I think a comparison of Ryan DeMarco and James Lee Burke's Dave Robicheaux would be a fair comparison.  

You can read a terrific interview Judith Collins did with Mr. Silvis here.  They go into some interesting parallels between the author, his life and his characters.  Along with Mr. Silvis' own philosophy about his life and his writing.

The book I found through NetGalley was the fourth in the Ryan DeMarco series.  "No Woods So Dark as These."  

The minute I finished it I downloaded books 1, 2 and 3 in the series onto my Kindle.

There are passages I have read and re-read over and over, and there's one passage that has lodged itself deeply in my mind.  And damn if I can find it now!  I always re-read books that affect me as deeply as these have, so I know I will find it again, but not now when I'd very much like to share it with all of you.

It has to do with looking back.

Remembering where you came from and who you would be if you had stayed there.

Possibly/Probably not the same person you are if you've moved on.

Would you have gone the places you've gone?  Done the things you've done?  Accomplished the things you're proud of?

Regardless, you'll always be, to those people back home, the person they knew then.

To them, you haven't changed.  

This struck me as so truthful that it's hurtful.

For a long time after leaving home I wondered about moving back.  And seriously considered it more than once.  The opportunities came, but I never made the move.

And now, at age 72, the desire to test those waters has long since passed.

I've never feared or disliked change - IF there was a reason for it.

And because of this, I've moved around, I've tried some things, and done some things that I don't think I would have if I had stayed where I was raised.

I still love The Eastern Shore of Maryland.

It's beautiful and I have wonderful memories.

But memories are, and should be, just that.

Memories.

I don't want to be, as the person I am now, that person my friends remember me as.  

Not any more.

It was great then.

But it's done.

I wouldn't change a thing, but . . . 

Like Ryan DeMarco, I moved on.

And now - Serendipity.

Don't you love serendipity?

And, here again, it has to do with reading choices.

I'm a huge fan of the on-line magazine The Bitter Southerner.

I read it religiously, and know I'm reading some of the best writing that's being written today.

If you're not familiar with it, I suggest you read the story behind the magazine.  The how and way it came to be.  They have created a pretty amazing thing.  (And there's some fun shopping there too!)  

So.

After reading and contemplating Ryan DeMarco's philosophy about leaving home, I happened across A Conversation with Stephanie Soileau in The Bitter Southerner.

She talks about her stories in her new book, "Last One Out Shut Off the Lights."  

And one of the topics covered in her stories is the subject of leaving home.  "When you leave, you also sacrifice a piece of yourself, or else find a new identity in ways that alienate you from your homeplace."

Yes.

That.

So.

During this time of social distancing, I'd really enjoy, I think, sitting down with Ryan DeMarco via Randall Silvis and Stephanie Soileau for a drink and chat.

But, since that is not likely to happen, I plan on looking into some of the non-series books Mr. Silvis has written. And, Ms. Soileau's book is on its way.

Maybe getting through this whole pandemic thing (and November 3rd) without losing my mind completely has a lot to do with finding the right book at just the right time. Or it finding me.

“That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you to another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive - all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment.”
 ― The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Just a Book?? And Time for a Give-Away

The Winner of the Book Give-Away is Kari Wainwright.

Kari - send me (barleykw at appstate dot edu) your address and I'll put your copy of

Susan Isaacs' AS HUSBANDS GO

in the mail

Congratulations!  and thanks very much for playing - it was fun!

I'm a lover of books.

But, to me - there are books and then there are books.

Some are special simply because of what they are. Books which have, in some way, touched me.  Touched me deeply enough that's it's important to me to have them close by.   A couple of books falling into this category are "Five Smooth Stones" by Ann Fairbairn, and "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows to name just two.  Two of the books that will, as my friend Nan says, go to the old folks' home with me.

A few weeks ago, I heard from BookPage that I had won 10 books for responding to one of their questions.  That was a bunch of fun.  The books arrived  -  brand new.  Most of them nice hardcover books.  Some of them are books I've already read, some of them I already own.  All of them what I would call very good books.  But - "just books."  They'll make wonderful gifts for friends and family.  And, I love that.  I love books and I love giving books to people I care about.  And sometimes I have give-aways here.  Come to think of it, I haven't done that in a long time - it may be time to do that.  Like now!

Just leave a comment and I'll toss it into my virtual hat.  I'll draw a name on Sunday and I'll come back and post that name at the top of this blog entry.  If you see your name, send me an email with your snail mail address and I'll send you a first edition hardcover copy of Susan Isaacs "As Husbands Go," which received a starred review from Publisher's Weekly.   

There I went off on one of my tangents . . .

Back to the subject at hand . . .

On the other hand  -  - 

         some books are quite special (to me) for yet another reason.

A couple weeks ago, I dropped my name in someone else's virtual hat to win a prize in a contest an author was having.  It was one of my favorite authors - and I already have all her books.  But the prize was one of her books personalized and autographed.  And I won!  And I was over the moon!  Yes, it's a book I already have, but that one doesn't have a nice note written in it from her to me.  The one she sent me is a book that will stay right here.  Always.  The other one that I'd already bought and read can now move along to a friend's house, but not the personalized one.  No siree.  That one joins a group of much treasured books that I will cherish forever.  Because instead of "just a book," each of those autographed books move into the realm of  "quite special."  They're books with a personal sentiment, memory, and/or story to go along with being "just a book."

I was surprised during a recent discussion at the blog where this contest was taking place when someone said they didn't understand why some people felt the urge, or the need, to have a book autographed.  They just wanted the book.  The author's signature didn't matter to them in the least.  And I've heard this sentiment expressed in discussions at DorothyL.

It floors me.

Now, I know I'm not the only person who loves having books around that have been signed by the author.  That notion can be easily validated by simply going to a book-signing event at a bookstore or a library.  People are there to see, and perhaps meet, an author whose work they admire.  They're there to have a book signed.

Laws, go to a book convention and witness how many people are willing to stand in long lines to have their books signed by their favorite literary heroes. 

But, obviously - there are a lot of folks who are just as happy with "just the book."

So now I'm curious and I'm hoping some of you will drop by to tell me how you feel about this.

If you're a book lover, do your signed books mean more to you than "just the book," or does it just not matter a whit one way or the other?