Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the category “Books”

A Mistaken Tree


Have you ever avoided something because of a developed perception?  Foods, movies, places, and unfortunately at times, books, can get slighted because of mistaken notion of what it is all about.

Take A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith, for example.  I’ve known about this novel for years, and even tried reading it once. I started reading with a formed bias that  the plot focused on a poor family living in New York with an alcoholic father who kept them back from success. I didn’t want to read yet another sad story about poor people (I might have just finished The Jungle) and I put the book down after a few pages and did not return to it until recently.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (novel)

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (novel) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m not sure why I decided to try the novel again.  I’m not one who seeks out what I call “downer” reads–those books where reality gets too real and somebody dies or there is a tragic accident or there is unmitigated loss.  I’m not much of a reader of Dickens for those reasons. Yet, in my quest to read all the old classics and the touted contemporary ones I checked out ATGiB once again.  As I began reading  I found out what the plot really was about: it centers on a poor family living in New York with an alcoholic father who keeps them back from success.

Discriminating Voice: Umm, excuse me–wasn’t that what kept you reading the book the first time?

CM: Yes, actually.

DV: The difference this time?

CM: I kept reading.

That’s right the reason that stopped me reading it the first time got set aside and I plunged on, despite my preconceived bias.  I don’t know why I listened to that squeamish inner reader voice  the first time.  I liken that inner reader voice  to the fussy eater voice I had as a kid. Especially when it came to eating broccoli.  When young I didn’t appreciate it until I had tried other vegetables over the years and decided it was actually pretty tasty.  So it can be with a read.

I think I stopped reading ATGiB because the opening involved description and a bit of poem about how the sadness, yet homeyness of Brooklyn.  Being a West Coast gal I could not a)relate to New York at all and b)I was not into poetry at the time.  Now having sampled, nibbled, and devoured poetry over the years I appreciated what Smith had established–setting.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn does center around a family (the Nolans) who live in New York (Brooklyn) in which the father is an alcoholic, and his alcoholism does create hardship for the family.  It also centers around Brooklyn in the early to mid 1900’s. The tree serves as a metaphor throughout the story.

p. 6:
The one tree in Francie’s yard was neither a pine nor a hemlock.  It had pointed leaves which grew along green switches which radiated from the bough and made a tree which looked like a lot of opened green umbrellas  Some people called it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed fell, it made a tree which struggled to reach the sky.  It grew in boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps and it was the only tree that grew out of cement. It grew lushly, but only in the tenements districts.

image Wikipedia

That’s the story right there in that paragraph.

The Nolan family consisting of Francie, her younger brother Neeley and her parents, Johnny and Katie, struggled throughout the novel, barely surviving the trials of their poverty. Contrary to the harsh aspects of their tenement life was the slice of heaven they called Brooklyn.  The omniscient narrator takes the readers on the life journey of the Nolans, with Francie as our guide.

Francie is as tough and irrepressible as Scout Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird) and Mick Kelly (The Heart is a Lonely Hunter). I do have a fondness for those tough chicks of literature.

Simply said, this time around I devoured the book, which proved difficult because I wanted to stop and savor it as well.  Betty Smith is a wordsmith and descriptive narrative is her forte.

p.165
These two visiting teacher were the gold and silver sun-splash in the great muddy river of school days, days made up of dreary hours in which Teacher made her pupils sit rigid with their hands folded behind their back while she read a novel hidden in her lap.  If all the teachers had been like Miss Bernstone and Mr. Morton, Francie would have known plain what heaven was.  But it was just as well. There had to be the dark and muddy waters so that the sun could have something to background its flashing glory.

The novel also is rich in detail, providing a living portrait of Brooklyn in the 1900’s, its sorrows, its hardships, its comedy, and its people.  I have a new RRS (re-read someday) favorite.

My takeaway transfer, from reader to writer is this: do not be stingy on the details.  Yes, yes–I’ve heard this writing advice many times.  Seeing it in actuality brings the lesson to reality.  Betty Smith recreated Brooklyn through the lives and eyes of the Nolans.  They survived and thrived just like that tree that grows in Brooklyn.

 

 

Writerly Wisdom IV


WordPress has that playful Pavlovian side in that every time we post a blog we are rewarded with a quote.  I liken it to the prize earned in my Crackjacks box.  The way notable and the everyman combines words to create a noteworthy thought is one of my happies in life and keeps me posting.

Even prior to joining the ranks of WordPress bloggers, I have delighted in gathering words. I save them and savor them. Like with many things in life, I have learned that the best way to enjoy something even more fully is to share it.  And so here–I am sharing my latest gathering of  various quotes, with the emphasis on writing. I hope you also savor their impact, their resonance, their form of sustenance as I harvest them from my hiding places and shake them to send them skittering across the page.  Enjoy!

 

I love being a writer. What I can’t stand is the paperwork. Peter De Vries

The best way to become acquainted with a subject is to write a book about it.Benjamin Disraeli

There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.W. Somerset Maugham

 

English: W. Somerset Maugham British writer

English: W. Somerset Maugham British writer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I loved words. I love to sing them and speak them and even now, I must admit, I have fallen into the joy of writing them.Anne Rice

 

A plot is two dogs and one bone. Robert Newton Peck

Prose…words in their best order.

Poetry…the best words in the best order.

                                                Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 

 Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric;

Out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.

                                                                W.B. Yeats

 

 

 

A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.

                                                                Robert Frost

The only reason for being a professional writer is that you can’t help it. Leo Rosten

There is creative reading as well as creative writing.Ralph Waldo Emerson

Writing is the only profession where no one considers you ridiculous if you earn no money.Jules Renard

The scariest moment is always just before you start.Stephen King

Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers. Isaac Asimov

Isaac Asimov Hails a Cab

Isaac Asimov Hails a Cab (Photo credit: zzazazz)

 

My ideas usually come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living. Anais Nin

The task of a writer consists of being able to make something out of an idea. Thomas Mann

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing. Ben Franklin

The two most engaging powers of an author are to make new things familiar and familiar things new. Samuel Johnson

No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader. Robert Frost

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. Anton Chekov

Go to the edge of the cliff and jump off.  Build your wings on the way down. Ray Bradbury

The beautiful part of writing is that you don’t have to get it right the first time, unlike, say, a brain surgeon. Robert Cormier

 

 Nothing’s a better cure for writer’s block than to eat ice cream right out of the carton. Don Roff

 

image from members virtualtourist.com

 

What writerly quotes of wisdom inspire you? Oh, and what ice cream is your choice to thaw out writer’s block?

Happy Pages,

CricketMuse

 

Being Happy with Bobby


Saturday I needed to suck it up and get happy about going back to work.  What better inspiration booster than with the original “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” guy, Bobby McFerrin.

image: listal.com

We should all be fairly familiar with McFerrin’s contribution to pop culture with his catchy tune about not letting life get us down.  That little song he wrote is not the real Robert.  Dig deeper and you will find he is the son of two opera singers who surrounded their impressionable son with music.  Yet, it wasn’t until his late twenties that McFerrin realized he wasn’t cut out to be a musician; he, with great epiphany, realized he should become a singer. The world is better place for that realization.

  • Highlights of McFerrin’s career include Bill Cosby’s discovering him, which led to his involvement in the Playboy Jazz Festival and performing the opening to The Cosby Show.
  • Ten time Grammy winner. Ten!
  • Began conducting at the age of 40 and has conducted all over the world.

Yet, McFerrin has not let the fame of his popular song direct his pathway.  In fact, he does not even sing “DWBH” in his concerts.  The fame spotlight actually made him disappear for nearly two years and when he reemerged he had learned how to conduct orchestras.

The concert I watched was his Bobby McFerrin–Live in Montreal. Clad in jeans and bright red t-shirt with his prominent lengthy braids tucked up around his head, McFerrin reminded me of a modern day Puck.  Even though McFerrin is in his sixties he is still playful and has been known to completely improvise concerts. This concert had a street tapper, a trapeze artist, a choir, musicians, and of course his trademark interactive style of involving the audience.

If you are not familiar with McFerrin’s style it would be difficult to pinpoint it.  He is a singer, true; however, he is a vocal virtuoso who is versed in the science and play of music. Watching him it is with disbelief how he can use his voice and his body to create a tune.  You haven’t seen anything until you see him perform his version of The Wizard of Oz, complete with tornado.

After the DVD ended I had to have more and hopped on my iPhone and spent the next three hours watching music videos.  One of the best finds was the hour-long Israel Symphony concert.  I’m still smiling thinking about the absolute  joy Bobby brings as a performer.  Whenever the audience begins to clap he lightly waves them off, as if saying, “ssh, just listen–this is no big deal.”

I’ve listened to McFerrin for years, enjoying his partnerships with various artists, an especial favorite being Hush with Yo Yo Ma.  But to truly enjoy McFerrin is to watch him live.

image: wikipedia.org

 

I hope to make my way to one of his concerts some day.  Until then–Yay for the numerous YouTube videos available.

Oh, and of course, there has to be a tie-in to books if I mention him in my blog.  And here it is:

  • image: ecrater.com

I hope when you need to not worry and need to get some happy you will look up Bobby McFerrin. Here’s the little song (video) he wrote:

Here is a little song I wrote
You might want to sing it note for note
Don’t worry be happy
In every life we have some trouble
When you worry you make it double
Don’t worry, be happy……

Ain’t got no place to lay your head
Somebody came and took your bed
Don’t worry, be happy
The land lord say your rent is late
He may have to litigate
Don’t worry, be happy
Look at me I am happy
Don’t worry, be happy
Here I give you my phone number
When you worry call me
I make you happy
Don’t worry, be happy
Ain’t got no cash, ain’t got no style
Ain’t got not girl to make you smile
But don’t worry be happy
Cause when you worry
Your face will frown
And that will bring everybody down
So don’t worry, be happy (now)…..

There is this little song I wrote
I hope you learn it note for note
Like good little children
Don’t worry, be happy
Listen to what I say
In your life expect some trouble
But when you worry
You make it double
Don’t worry, be happy……
Don’t worry don’t do it, be happy
Put a smile on your face
Don’t bring everybody down like this
Don’t worry, it will  soon pass
Whatever it is
Don’t worry, be happy

source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/onehitwonders/dontworrybehappylyrics.html

 

The Ruing of Breaking


rue 1 (r)

v. ruedru·ingrues
v.tr.

To feel regret, remorse, or sorrow for.
v.intr.

To feel regret, remorse, or sorrow.
n.
It never fails.  About the time I begin to feel *normal* I go back to work.  For those of you who are not teachers I may not get much sympathy–after all, most of the world does not get large chunks of time off scattered throughout the year like educator types do.  Skip this post then.  I really don’t want to read comments about whatever am I complaining about getting almost two weeks off for Christmas Break.  This post is more about coping with the deprogramming I go through while on break.  I definitely feel regret, remorse, and/or sorrow; I rue.
Now don’t get me wrong.  I don’t rue my choice of career.  I love teaching.  Some days I even like it (old joke).  What I rue is how intensely I view my career.  I don’t stop thinking school during my break and I am constantly forming  lesson plans, looking up new sites, checking mail (answering questions from students–yes, I will write you a reference letter), and refining old units as I create new ones. That creative energy, that inertia of teaching doesn’t just quietly wait for me in the classroom; it follows me home and won’t let me enjoy reading a book without marking a passage to share with students, I can’t read the newspaper without clipping out an article that underscores a lesson recently covered, and I’m unable to work on my writing because of all those teacherly cobwebs covering up my creativity.
Until today.  Today I woke up and felt like teaching is a distant memory, a fond reminiscence, something I once did.  Today I really got the urge to write, write, write.  New ideas, a resurgence of purpose, a desire to edit and revise and investigate new publishing opportunities.  Aah, then there is the crashing reality of it being Friday and knowing I return to the classroom on Monday, meaning writing will once again take a nestled backseat to my day, that is f I have time and energy after grading papers and configuring another day’s set of lessons.
Today is today.  Monday is Monday.  I shall not rue my break, only embrace the fact it gives me glimmer of what retirement might be like.
P.S. I found this documentary at the library: American Teacher. Wow! What an eye-opener.
To all teachers out there: January is that much closer to June. Hang in there!

Pass the Marple Syrup


Cover of "A Murder Is Announced (Winterbr...

Cover via Amazon

Although I do enjoy a mystery now and then I must ,with some embarrassment, confess I hadn’t read an Agatha Christie until most recently. Shocking, I know.  After all, Dame Christie is the Queen of Mystery.  That reason why I hadn’t read any of her books was my contentment to experience the film adaptations.

That is until I watched A Murder Is Announced.  

This particular series stars Geraldine McEwan as Miss Marple, and while I have no real complaint with her portrayal, I do have concerns over other liberties. For one, Miss Marple is well-known for her ditzy little old lady approach to solving crimes, which makes the juxtaposition all the more interesting, for who would think this sweet spinster who continually knits has a mind sharp enough to see past the obvious and solve what the detectives can’t?

Exactly.

When something is seasoned right, don’t add more spice.  Or in this case, let’s pass on making the Miss Marple sweeter for modern audiences.  For instance, Miss Marple is classified primarily as a cozy mystery, meaning the murders are more mystery than gory. Also, Miss Marple plots tend to be conservative, not straying too far in social issues. Then there is the main personality of  Miss Marple who is known for her prudent, if not prudish manner and values.   With all that said, it is perplexing why the McEwan series takes viewers on such a darker path than Christie ever did.  This series includes topics not overtly addressed in the books: incest, homosexuality, racism, feminism, religion.  The addition of these spicier elements does not improve the plot, and actually detracts from it.  There is also the suggestion Miss Marple had an affair with a married man in her younger days. All these extras did not entice me to continue with the series; it actually quelled my interest in continuing.  It’s as if the producers felt a good solid mystery wouldn’t be enough for modern audiences.

 

At this point you might be wondering how I know about what Christie had or didn’t have in her books if I hadn’t read them.  Easy–I consulted an expert.  ET, my local librarian and mystery aficionado, assured me Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple series did not focus on those previously mentioned topics, and she’s read them twice.  After watching A Murder Is Announced I read it for myself. Already knowing the identity of the murderer rather spoiled the read, but I was actually reading for comparison.   They should have stuck to the original plot.

While I might read more of Agatha Christie I will have to be careful not to read those which I’ve watched.  Nothing spoils a good whodunnit more than knowing whodiddit. Then there is the fact I very much prefer Hercules Poirot, especially David Suchet’s studied performance of the Belgium detective. The little grey cells find his plots decidedly delicious and there are extra sweeteners in Suchet’s series.

Agatha Christie

Agatha Christie (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Mark Twain and Matilda Trumble–Whoda Thunk It


 

One THE best parts of Christmas Break is the long lulls of doing absolutely nothing but reading. No papers to grade, no clock watching so I don’t read past my reasonable bedtime, and no morning rush out the door.  I can read whenever I want to.  I groove on that concept.

 

I have a large bag of books from the library with each selected book waiting patiently for its turn.  Bag stuffing, is what I call this.  I stuff my canvas library bag with all sorts of different reads.  If I start one and it doesn’t work for me, ehh, I pull another one out.  Kind of like eating grapes, with  so many selections I can be a bit more discerning, casting aside that which doesn’t immediately please my palette.

 

One of my selection methods is to shelf cruise.  I chose one alpha row and prowl up and down until BINGO, the title, size, color speaks to me and I grab it.  This is how The Mark Twain Proposition by Gina Cerminara came home with me.

 

image: amazon.com

 

 

At first I thought Cerminara was trying to emulate Twain’s style, her proposition. She had the quaint storied chapter titles down: “In Which We See That A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell the Same; but The Question Is: How Would It Sound?” as well as the inflated diction:

 

This demonstration of the power of a newspaper columnist’s maneuver was impressive to Elwood, and had he been a different type of man he might have exploited it further.

 

She also had the stereotypes perfected as well: Elwood, the long-suffering curmudgeon husband; Matilda, the charming yet scatter-brained housewife looking for a cause; genial African-Americans whose demeanor prove what louts most Caucasians tend to be (this was set in the late fifties).  Assorted greedy villains,  prejudiced neighbors and relatives fill in the gaps.  There is also a moral theme, a sticky conflict, and a couple of awkward situations.

 

Sounds rather banal?  Not at all. Then I discovered her real proposition stems from the following quote Matilda finds by Mark Twain:

[I hold myself] responsible for the wrong which the white race has done to the black race in slavery…a reparation [is] due from every white man to every black man.

Matilda and Elwood move from their narrow-minded little town to New York City, Harlem to be precise, where she will begin her version of reparations by creating a multi-racial club, donating to various African-American projects and causes, and become an ambassador of sorts.  Elwood, her husband, moves to Harlem for the culture, and goes along with her cause, yet does not particularly embrace it.

Mind you, this is set in the late fifties, just before the Civil Rights movement, so there is a variety of mentions that may not be considered politically correct. A nod is given to Rosa Parks, MLK, and assorted other personalities who attend Matilda’s meetings on different occasions.

 

While Twain tended to his causes through his dry, subtle humor, Cerminara pulls out the stops and with her own style and wit announces her own agenda, not always with aplomb.The book tackles the race issue straight on without blinking; however, Cerminara creates such an obvious stage with her obvious tribute to Twain’s style it is very much like attending a period play.  I absolutely relished this read and give it a four star glow rating. If you enjoyed The Help I suggest this read as well. Skeeter and Matilda would have gotten along quite well together.

 

 

 

Even though Mark Twain is singular in style and approach, and we are forever thankful he took on the race issue in his own manner, The Mark Twain Proposition pays a decent and enjoyable tribute to a man who brought a conscience to a nation.

Mark Twain 2

Mark Twain 2 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

 

 

 

Fully and Truly


christmas paint

christmas paint (Photo credit: cassie_bedfordgolf)

 

It has been a full week and there is one more day to go.  Monday a snow day (yay!), vocab tests, To Kill a Mockingbird completions, giddy (if not rowdy) teens waiting for Christmas Break to begin, Professional Learning Communities, paperwork, grading, parent meetings, and I would say I am fully and truly ready for Friday to arrive.

 

And so it is ever so nice to click on the notification link and see an award nom.  Ironically, my energy being at its lowest and feeling fairly blah around the edges as I countdown minutes to Christmas Break, Mary Meddlemore nominated me for

 

 

Thanks Mary!!

 

I’m supposed to nominate 15 other inspiring blogs and provide 7 facts about myself…and now that you know how my week has been I know you will let me off the hook.  At least until the weekend?  Great.  Thanks.

 

Until I rally more energy and time I send hugs and luvs to all out there because I know I am not the only one who feels a bit bruised around the edges this week.

 

 

 

Bright Spots and Pass Alongs


When the world reveals too much darkness I tend to retreat.  I know I can’t just hide and pretend it will all go away, yet I don’t want to dwell on tragedies and troubling events.  So when the world is at its darkest I look up and out and around to find the bright spots.

Beautiful dramatic sky with sun rays  Blue Heavens Idyllic Wallpaper Broad Daylight  Stock Photo - 16019369

Whitetail doe eating with her twin fawns nearby a forest Stock Photo - 7770366
leaded glass dragonfly sticking to window with back light Stock Photo - 13175274
Sunset in autumn forest Stock Photo - 13041518
 The photo of beautiful beach and waves Stock Photo - 12003686
Cute little boy feeding ducks Stock Photo - 10488802
butterflies
readalonequote
And I escape by reading.
My love and prayers go out to those affected by the turmoil and troubles of the day.  I do encourage everyone to keep looking for the bright spots as I am reminded of Emily Dickinson who spoke of hope:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

254
“Hope” is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm—
I’ve heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me

Getting Lively with Dead Poets


Poetry

Poetry (Photo credit: Kimli)

Tuesday marked the start of our AP Poetry Unit.  I am so excited we are finally onto poetry!! Poetry is the curry of prose.  It’s the sprinkles found in exposition.  It’s the center of the Tootsie Pop because it’s that delightful surprise unexpectedly found in the middle of the everyday. 

Poetry is not just rhyme.  It’s not just meter.  It’s not slavering on about metaphor and simile.  It’s bounce, giggles, shock, and awe.  Poetry is the dance of words.  Poetry is that note of praise found nestled in the staunch flow of sentences, paragraphs, and text.

It’s sing.

It’s song.

It’s the azure found in the sky.

It’s the You before I.

It’s older than the page before you.

It’s Homer before he became a Simpson.

And the Dead Poets are the best because their words formed the path for the rest.

Oh, hello Emily, Robert, William, Byron, Coleridge, Sylvia, Langston, Gwendolyn–I’d like you to meet my students.  I’ve been telling them about you.  I can’t wait for them to know you like I’ve gotten to know you.  And I can’t wait to learn more about you as I learn from my students.

Poetry. Word colors of our world.

when I said "I ate all your tootsie pops&...

when I said “I ate all your tootsie pops” (Photo credit: hmmlargeart)

Jane Eyrror


Disclaimer: my commentary (not to be confused with a diatribe) is by in no means a diss upon those authors who have achieved success in their ability to appease the hunger of a ready populace for further forays of their favorite literary characters. I applaud publication success, even though I may not applaud the content.

The Janes of my reading life have left me wanting.  Wanting more that is.  Having read through Jane Austen and desiring more of Jane Eyre, I have continued to found solace in the many continuations that are currently available.

As we all know, there truly is no satisfying replacement for the original.  However, when you crave a Godiva and only Hershey, sometimes you are willing to settle for less when the best is no longer available.  In my Search for More Jane (not a book title, but wouldn’t it be a fun one?) I have scoured my GoodReads lists to find plausible reads.  I attempted several titles and grew weary in my searches for a true Elizabeth and company.  Only JA knew Elizabeth best. Besieged by the plethora of Pride and Prejudice knock-offs, I have turned to other novels of classic inspiration.  Jane Eyre is one such hopeful.

I dutifully read Wide Saragossa Sea since it ranked a place on the AP Suggested Reading List. Touted as the prequel to Jane Eyre and hailed as a classic, I braved through the novel ever hopeful it would answer those nagging questions of how Edward Rochester became smitten and taken in by Bertha.  The novel turned out to be more of a stand alone than a companion read.

I then chanced upon Death of a Schoolgirl  by Joanna Campbell Slan at my local library on the new releases shelf.  Seeing it featured Jane Eyre in her married state of Mrs. Rochester I quickly plunked it into by book bag.  Overall, I enjoyed this as a weekend read with its premise that Jane’s curiosity and tenacity makes her a rival to Miss Marple in sleuthing skills. A fun read, granted, it offered only a shadow in terms of the depth of Jane.

image: amazon.com

 

I then remembered reading a book review about a contemporary version of Jane Eyre.  Setting the intrepid ET upon the search, she found Jane by April Linder. I too checked it out.  Here is the catalog summary:

Forced to drop out of an esteemed East Coast college after the sudden death of her parents, Jane Moore takes a nanny job at Thornfield Park, the estate of Nico Rathburn, a world-famous rock star on the brink of a huge comeback. Practical and independent, Jane reluctantly becomes entranced by her magnetic and brooding employer and finds herself in the midst of a forbidden romance.

Book Jacket for: Jane

image: amazon.com

I read it anyway.

No, Jane had not been what I had originally been looking for, and fortunately I found the lost review buried under my get-to-it-someday stack.  The Flight of Gemma Hardy, proved a much better replacement crave read and definitely proved the glowing review it received.

image: amazon.com

Set in Iceland and Scotland in the fifties and sixties, Gemma Hardy’s life parallels that of Jane Eyre’s in travail and hardships.  Gemma is a young woman who becomes an au pair for the precocious niece of a Mr.Sinclair, who infrequently visits his Scottish home.  Gemma’s journey and subsequent flight adequately pays tribute to that of Jane Eyre’s, yet manages to be a distinctive and well-written plot twist of its own merit.  I reluctantly finished Livesey tribute novel, quite satisfied with having found a glimpse of Jane through Gemma.  I am looking forward to discovering her other works.

Sometimes the best way to find a continuation of a familiar voice is to discover a new acquaintance.

Conclusion: There is real no “eyrror” in finding replacement reads for Jane; it’s only a matter of discernment.

 

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