Who is Too Fond of Books? I’m Dawn, welcome to my book blog! This is the place for book reviews, author interviews, giveaways, Spotlight on Bookstores series, bookish musings, and news from the publishing world.
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I’ve been talking about …
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 Defending Jacob by William Landay- Hardcover: 432 pages
- Publisher: Random House / Delacorte Press (January 31, 2012)
- ISBN-13: 978-0385344227
Who and what is the book about (back-of-the-book blurb): Andy Barber, assistant DA, is respected in his community, tenacious in the courtroom, and happy at home with his wife, Laurie, and son, Jacob. But when a shocking crime shatters their New England town, Andy is blindsided by what happens next: His fourteen-year-old son is charged with the murder of a fellow student.
Every parental instinct Andy has rallies to protect his boy, but he faces a trial of his own — between loyalty and justice, between truth and allegation, between a past he’s tried to bury and a future he cannot conceive.
This is the consummate novel of an embattled family in crisis — a suspenseful, character-driven mystery that is also a spellbinding tale of guilt, betrayal, and the terrifying speed at which our lives can spin out of control.
Where and when does it take place: Andy Barber and his family live in Newton, Massachusetts, an affluent suburb of Boston. The murder of an eighth-grader – and much of the plot – occurs in this town; courtroom scenes are set in the Middlesex County Courthouse in Cambridge. Defending Jacob takes place over about a year, from the day of the murder in April 2007 to a Grand Jury scene in April 2008 (foreshadowed in Chapter 1).
What would I say to a friend who asked me about it: Now, you know I don’t read a lot of murder mysteries, but this isn’t your typical who-done-it. Landay strikes deep into the heart of parents (in this case, the victim and the accused are 8th grade boys; I’m the mother of an 8th grade boy!) by asking how far we’ll go to protect/defend our children. He also examines the struggle of nature vs. nurture, which is another topic near and dear to my heart (having taken 100% credit for the gentle quiet manner our older son, explaining that ‘mommy and me’ activities and near-constant classical music helped mold his sweet personality, only to be bested by his younger brother – also very sweet – but the epitome of “rough and tumble” despite being raised in the same environment).
The novel is told in the first person, in Andy Barber’s voice. Because there is this parental perspective of the narrator, there is also a bias. Andy is shocked as the town closes ranks against the accused, and friends, neighbors, and colleagues keep their distance. He and Laurie attempt to maintain some sense of normalcy – instituting sit-down family dinners and banning new reports from their television viewing.
There is a psychological mystery here, in addition to the murder mystery. These questions of parenting styles, nature vs. nurture, community response, and the mob mentality make Defending Jacob a good choice for a book group that is willing to push into some perhaps uncomfortable territory (personal can be uncomfortable, after all. But that discomfort/stretch can help us grow).
Oh, and of course I love the Newton setting – reading a novel which incorporates familiar place and local landmarks is always fun. The Newton demographic is very similar to the town where we live, and I found myself nodding along as Landay introduced personality types that struck close to home.
Why did I read it: At the NEIBA fall conference I asked our Random House rep “if I could read only one book of the next season, what would it be?” He placed Defending Jacob in my hands. Again, murder mysteries are not my standard fare, but that strong recommendation (coupled with a familiar setting), made for a winning pitch. To be fair, the rep told me I had to read more than one, and stacked three other books on my pile … I’m reading as fast as I can!
A few favorite passages: This goes to the heart of the community’s response, and it could be any town in America (p. 11):
What made the Rifkin murder so profane was that it involved one of the town’s children. It was a violation of Newton’s self-image. For a while a sign had stood in Newton Centre declaring the place “A Community of Families, a Family of Communities,” and you often heard it repeated that Newton was “a good place to raise kids.” Which indeed it was. It brimmed with test-prep centers and after-school tutors, karate dojos and Saturday soccer leagues. The town’s young parents especially prized this idea of Newton as a child’s paradise. Many of them had left the hip, sophisticated city to move here. They had accepted masses expenses, stultifying monotony, and the queasy disappointment of settling for a conventional life. To these ambivalent residents, the whole suburban project made sense only because it was “a good place to raise kids.” They had staked everything on it.
I liked this bit of insight, although I’d argue that I fall into the role of “youngest child” whenever our adult family gathers (p. 71):
At some point as adults we cease to be our parents’ children and we become our children’s parents instead.
And this, as Andy observes the changes the stress has wrought on Laurie (p. 147):
Once, my wife read so constantly that she would hold a book in her left hand while she brushed her teeth with the right; now she never picked up a book, she could not muster the concentrations or even the interest.
What else can I add: William Landay is the author of The Strangler and Mission Flats. He’s a former district attorney, living outside Boston. Defending Jacob made the IndieNext list for February 2012, as recommended by independent booksellers nationwide.
 Meet Avner.
He came to live with us on Labor Day weekend, when we had invited friends over for a barbecue.
“Guacamole and chips!” the kids replied, when asked what we should serve (aside from J’s grilled burgers which are The Best!). So, guac and chips were added to the list, along with corn on the cob, green salad, baked beans … I don’t really remember, this was months ago, and my brain has made room for other things in the meantime.
This is where Avner comes in, along with two or three friends. I don’t remember their names, frankly, they weren’t that impressive. After we had composted their skins and smashed their flesh into yummy creamy guacamole, the seeds were discarded. Perhaps they’ve sprouted up in the landfill somewhere.
But Avner stayed with us. Being children of the 70s, J and I have fond memories of poking the sides of an avocado seed with toothpicks and suspending over the sides of a glass, the seed partially submerged in water. And waiting. And waiting. And changing the scummy water for fresh water. And waiting some more.
This is the fun we wanted to share with our children – lessons about time passing, and patience, and scummy water. (Can you hear the sarcasm here? I was ready to send Avner to the same landfill that his cousins visited, but J remained firm).
Finally, a root appeared at the bottom of the seed. It grew about 5 inches before we noticed the top of Avner had split as well, and a tiny sprout emerged.
Into the pot he went, and he’s been growing steadily. Up, up, up to about a foot tall, with four tiny leaves; J remembers the plant he grew as a kid being about five feet tall (and fruitless). I expect that he’ll keep growing, and I’ll transplant him outdoors in the spring. (oops, misplaced modifier, that’s he, Avner, not he, J).
Of course, a quick visit to Wikipedia tells me the Avner won’t bear fruit unless we cross-pollinate with another avocado (April? Angelina?), or graft a piece from a fruit-bearing plant. We’ll continue to buy our guacamole fixings from the local grocery store, and enjoy Avner’s greenery when we’re out on the patio this summer.
So tell me, friends in warmer climates, can you grow and harvest avocados in your yards, or is that a myth?
 Did you enter to win Taylor M. Polites’ The Rebel Wife?
Click over to this post on my Giveaways page to see if you’re one of the three lucky winners!
 I’m so pleased to welcome Tess Hardwick to She Is Too Fond of Books today! Tess is a novelist and playwright with a BFA in Drama from the University of Southern California. In 2000 she wrote her first full-length play, My Lady’s Hand, which subsequently won the 2001 first place prize for new work at the Burien Theatre. Her first novel, Riversong, was published by Booktrope in April 2011 and became the #1 Bestselling Nook Book in October.
Like her main character in Riversong, Tess is from a small town in Southern Oregon. She currently lives in Snoqualmie, Washington with her husband, two small daughters and a teenage stepson. She is inspired daily by the view of the Cascade Mountains from her home office window. Find more at www.tesshardwick.com, on Tess Hardwick on twitter, and on Facebook.
Tess is shining her Spotlight on Cannon Beach Book Company, which she calls – simply and affectionately – “the bookstore.” It’s so nice to read that her children feel as welcome and “at home” there as she does, and that Tess can travel back to Cannon Beach in her memories simply by reading a book she purchased there, or by using the bookstore’s bookmark to mark her place in her current read.
 I discovered my favorite small bookstore, Cannon Beach Book Company, fifteen years ago, while vacationing in Cannon Beach, a popular beachside tourist retreat for Seattle and Portland residents. Situated between Tillamook and Astoria, the town of Cannon Beach is the ultimate Oregon beach experience, resplendent with taffy, ice cream, and kite shops, next to a long stretch of sandy beach overlooking the famous Haystack Rock. For the past eleven Augusts, my husband and I spend one week there, hoping for good weather, but packing in layers, as we do here in the northwest. As a writer that week has become my muse. Each time the waves crash onto the beach and the breeze brings salty air into my lungs there is an emptying, like I imagine people find during meditation, until I expand into inspiration.
And then, there is my other vocation. I am a reader. The first day we’re in Cannon Beach, I often sneak away to what we regular visitors call, the bookstore, but its proper name is the Cannon Beach Book Company. One of my favorite places in the world, it’s nestled in the middle of downtown Cannon Beach, a gentle haven for book lovers, smelling of new paper and book covers, and full of like-minded people, all readers, milling about, leafing through books or chatting quietly about favorite reads to their companions or asking the staff questions. Sometimes, captured by an opening paragraph, they remain standing, reading page after page of a book they will soon purchase and read long into the summer night, or in the light of the afternoon, feet buried in sand, the roar of waves hitting jagged rocks in the near distance.
 I’ve been known to disappear into the bookstore for hours, without consciousness, like a book lover’s blackout, only to emerge with bags of books, mostly novels. Some I decide on because of the recommendation by the bookstore’s knowledgeable staff, and others because I open that first page and read that first sentence and always, inevitably, if the writing is crafted in a certain way, I get chills or goose bumps, and I’m done. I’ve decided. This is a book for me. As all readers will tell you, it only takes that first sentence to draw you into story. And we are lost.
Readers agree, too, there is nothing better than an afternoon spent prowling through stacks and shelves of books, knowing that within the pages, depending on the book one chooses, looms an unknown world of new friends and enemies, or a humorous escape, sometimes an adventure, maybe an epic love story, and perhaps, best of all, illumination and understanding of our own lives. All these riches are within those crisp pages in the lines of words crafted by great writers. At Cannon Beach Book Company, there is a book, or in my case, books, for all of us.
These days, my daughters, eight and five, are book lovers too, and when we amble into the store, before hands become sticky from ice-cream and taffy, they go straight to the children’s section in the back corner, and sit cross-legged, thumbing through treasures, persuading me to purchase many more books than I have budget for. They take after me that way.
For months after my annual trip, I read the books I’ve purchased, using the bookmark from Cannon Beach Book Company, often fingering the logo, remembering my time there, knowing I’m merely marking days until I can return once again and become lost amongst the stacks.
 There are SO many great books publishing today!
I reviewed a favorite new fiction title, A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty, on the blog yesterday. We’re hosting three other fiction picks – The Baker’s Daughter (Sarah M. McCoy), The Flight of Gemma Hardy (Margot Livesey) and Mr. g: A Novel about the Creation (Alan Lightman) with author events in the next few weeks; I’ll write about those after the authors visit the bookshop.
Today I feature a very interesting non-fiction book, which I put in the category of “pop psychology.” If you enjoy the way Malcolm Gladwell dissects human nature in his books (The Tipping Point, Blink), you’ll grab onto Susan Cain’s investigation of the introverted life in Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking.
Here’s a bit of the back-of-the-book blurb:
At least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They are the ones who prefer listening to speaking, reading to partying; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over brainstorming in teams. Although they are often labeled “quiet,” it is to introverts that we owe many of the great contributions to society — from van Gogh’s sunflowers to the invention of the personal computer.
Passionately argued, impressively researched, and filled with indelible stories of real people, Quiet shows how dramatically we undervalue introverts, and how much we lose in doing so. Susan Cain charts the rise of the Extrovert Ideal in the twentieth century and explores its far-reaching effects. She talks to Asian-American students who feel alienated from the brash, backslapping atmosphere of American schools. She questions the dominant values of American business culture, where forced collaboration can stand in the way of innovation, and where the leadership potential of introverts is often overlooked. And she draws on cutting-edge research in psychology and neuroscience to reveal the surprising differences between extroverts and introverts.
She introduces us to successful introverts and offers invaluable advice on everything from how to better negotiate differences in introvert-extrovert relationships to how to empower an introverted child to when it makes sense to be a “pretend extrovert.”
This book has the power to permanently change how we see introverts and, equally important, how introverts see themselves.
In the first pages of Quiet, Cain refers to the “quiet strength” of Rosa Parks (Quiet Strength is also the title of Parks’ autobiography), asking the reader: “Why shouldn’t quiet be strong? And what else can quiet do that we don’t give it credit for?”
And this excerpt (which I’ve pulled from four consecutive paragraphs … all ellipses are mine) really struck home, as I consider myself an extrovert married to an introvert … but, perhaps I’m a closet introvert:
… We’re told that to be great is to be bold, to be happy is to be sociable. We see ourselves as a nation of extroverts – which means we’ve lost sight of who we really are. Depending on which study you consult, one third to one half of Americans are introverts. … If you’re not an introvert yourself, you are surely raising, managing, married to, or coupled with one.
If these statistics surprise you, that’s probably because so many people pretend to be extroverts. Closet introverts pass undetected on playgrounds, in high-school locker rooms, and in the corridors of corporate America. … You have only to raise the subject of this book with your friends and acquaintances to find that the most unlikely people consider themselves introverts.
It makes sense that so many introverts hide even from themselves. We live with a value system that I call the Extrovert Ideal – the omnipresent belief that the ideal self is gregarious, alpha, and comfortable in the spotlight. … We like to think that we value individuality, but mostly we admire one type of individual – the kind who’s comfortable “putting himself out there.”
Introversion - along with its cousins sensitivity, seriousness, and shyness – is now a second-class personality trait. … Introverts living under the Extrovert Ideal are … discounted because of a trait that gets to the core of who they are. Extroversion is an enormously appealing personality style, but we’ve turned it into an oppressive standard to which most of us feel we must conform.
Interesting, yes?! I’m sure this will be a hot pick for book groups – even, perhaps, those who don’t typically discuss non-fiction. It has a universal appeal, imparts facts and figures without being stuffy, and helps us to learn something about ourselves and those around us.
Tell me what you think — would your book group read and discuss Quiet? Leave your comments below … don’t be shy … I mean, it’s OK if you are …
 A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty by Joshilyn Jackson- Hardcover: 336 pages
- Publisher: Grand Central Publishing (January 25, 2012)
- ISBN-13: 978-0446582353
Who and what is the book about (back-of-the-book blurb): A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty is a powerful saga of three generations of women, plagued by hardships and torn by a devastating secret, yet inextricably joined by the bonds of family. Fifteen-year-old Mosey Slocumb – spirited, sassy, and on the cusp of womanhood – is shaken when a small grave is unearthed in the backyard, and determined to figure out why it’s there. Liza, her stroke-ravaged mother, is haunted by choices she made as a teenager. But it is Ginny – known as “Big” -, Mosey’s strong and big-hearted grandmother, whose maternal love braids together the strands of the women’s shared past — and who will stop at nothing to defend their future.
Where and when does it take place: Mississippi, in the current day; Jackson shares some backstory of when Big was 15 (and pregnant with Liza), and a lot of flashback to when Liza was 15 (and pregnant with Mosey), but most of the novel focuses on the present day and what’s happening with Mosey and her interactions with Liza and Big – whose initial concern is to make sure Mosey break the “15 and pregnant” pattern. When a shallow grave, bones, and a tattered baby blanket are unearthed in the backyard, their focus changes quickly.
What would I say to a friend who asked me about it: Once again Joshilyn Jackson has shattered the myths I once held about “Southern fiction.” Her novels are multi-layered, and look at realistic relationships and challenges. These are strong women, not hesitant to speak up for what’s right, and to do anything to protect those that they love. Jackson takes on social/economic class and its perceived relation to “class” (as in Jackie O class), showing that one can have riches in the bank, but be poor in spirit – and vice versa.
The three generations of Slocumb women (Ginny/”Big”, Liza, and Mosey) found strengths they (or others) didn’t know they had. Mosey didn’t rely solely on her mother and grandmother, though; her best friend is Roger, the proverbial ‘boy next door,’ and she develops a friendship with Patti, a female classmate from the “wrong side of the tracks” as the book progresses.
The format of the narrative helped me to get caught up in the world of Big, Liza, and Mosey. Some chapters are told in first-person from Big or Mosey’s view; others are told in third-person, with a focus on Liza. This is especially effective as Liza struggles to communicate post-stroke.
Why did I read it: The first novel by Joshilyn Jackson that read (listened to) was Backseats Saints, which took me by surprise in the most positive of ways. I commented on the “depth and intricacy of the plot,” and noted that I “loved the characters” (hee-hee, I sound like a Zagat Guide!). Since that time (August 2010 – oh, how fondly I remember when I had the time to read through a new-to-me author’s backlist), I’ve had her on my “must read more!” list. This “to do” list, coupled with the opportunity to hear Joshilyn Jackson as the keynote speaker at the Salem List Fest this past fall (she’s smart, she’s funny, and, of course, and excellent storyteller), pushed me to gobble up this latest novel when I had the chance. Plus, I have a 15-year daughter, and was eager to peek into the mind of this species via an author who tells it like it is.
A few favorite passages: The opening paragraphs pull the reader in (this is from the Prologue, told in Big’s voice):
My daughter, Liza, put her heart in a silver box and buried it under the willow tree in our backyard. Or as close to under that tree as she could anyway. The thick web of roots shunted her off to the side, to the place where the willow’s long fingers trailed down. They swept back and forth across the troubled earth, helping Liza smooth away the dig marks.
It was foolish. there’s no way to hide things underground in Mississippi. Our rich, wet soil turns every winter burial into a spring planting. Over the years, Liza’s heart, small and cold and broken as it was, grew into a host of secrets that could ruin us all and cost us Mosey, Liza’s own little girl. I can’t blame Liza, though. She was young and hurt, and she did the best she could.
And after all, I’m the damn fool who went and dug it up.
What else can I add: I read the print edition of A Grown-Up Kind of Pretty, but feel confident recommending the audio edition as well. I so enjoyed Jackson’s narration of Backseat Saints – she’s the rare author whose spoken voice is perfect for her written voice. Oh, and when I was at the Salem Lit Fest I purchased gods in Alabama (which several people have pointed to as her *best* novel); it’ll be the next Joshilyn Jackson I read.
One more thing … trivia: her first name is pronounced like “Jocelyn” (no “shhh” sound).
 About six months ago – when I first confessed to injecting the ATK Kool Aid into my veins – I explored their website from top to bottom, no nook and cranny (English Muffin reference) went unexplored.
One interesting tab that I found contained information for their cooking school – courses for everything from making their Hearty Chicken Noodle Soup (which, as I recall, included walking me through performing my own taste tests of store-bought chicken stock, how to select fresh ingredients, step-by-step instruction – video and photo/text – and a way to interact with an instructor for feedback) to a full “essentials of cooking” type course.
These courses were fun to dream about, but, frankly, the price kept me away. The information is no longer on the website, but my recollection is a range of $99 for the soup course to $799 for the “essentials” course.
Now….. big changes to the America’s Test Kitchen Cooking School!
Earlier this week I received an email (yes, you might call it an ad or a solicitation) announcing the new ATK Cooking School. I was pleased to see that these lessons (and the groupings of lessons that make up a complete course) are available at $19.95 per month. That means I can give myself five months of Cooking School for about $100 – I can choose from:
America’s Test Kitchen is offering a 14-day free trial through February 1. You have to give a credit card when registering for this (like most trial offers), and a one-month subscription rate ($19.95) will be billed if you don’t cancel within two weeks of the start date. There’s also an instructor-led membership ($39.95) which assigns an instructor to each student, for personalized lesson plans, trouble-shooting, and feedback; this more personalized option is nice for someone who has the budget of time and resources, but isn’t the best fit for me at this time.
I’ve said that this is the year of kitchen equipment upgrades for us (note the kitchen scale, my first Le Creuset French oven, and finally a stand mixer!), so I’ve decided to upgrade the primary cook as well. Yes, I’m registering for America’s Test Kitchen Cooking School and will commit to the free trial plus one additional month before I decide if I’m going to continue. Look for my results here in the next 6-8 weeks.
Want to join me and compare/contrast our experiences? Leave a note in the Comments and we’ll connect.
Oh, in case you’re wondering … ATK didn’t ask me to write about the Cooking School; they didn’t pitch it to me as a blogger/press. I received the email as a consumer, and am excited about the opportunity to try to the program.
Visit more Weekend Cooking posts Beth Fish Reads’ Weekend Cooking. There you’ll find a round-up of fantastic food-themed posts from around the web – cookbook reviews, recipes, photographs, tips and tricks for the busy kitchen, etc. As Beth Fish says, “if it’s remotely foodie, it qualifies!”
Hee-hee, no, this isn’t an instruction manual, it’s a wonderful novel set in Reconstruction Alabama. The “rebel wife” is Augusta “Gus” Branson, who proves herself to be a strong heroine who shatters many of the long-standing myths about the South.
To read more about the novel and the author, and to enter to win a copy of The Rebel Wife, click over to this post on my Giveaways page.
 Another week, another wonderful Spotlight on Bookstores guest post! Linda Teitel wrote this piece; she’s the author of the middle-grade novel Angus  MacMouse Brings Down the House (Bloomsbury 2010). Angus is a mouse who holds the key to a successful opera company – culture, humor, and a crowd-pleasing ‘moral to the story’ = fun!
When she’s not writing (or sharing her work via school and library visits), Linda teaches at a preschool; she also enjoys spending time outdoors and on the water of the North Shore. You can read more about Linda Teitel on her blog, lindateitel.blogspot.com.
I’m especially pleased that this essay spotlights a bookshop that’s within driving distance for me – yes, another warm-weather field trip! Linda supplied one of the exterior photos; the snow-covered yard and interior shot are from The Book Shop’s website.
She also shared a few interesting facts about Beverly Farms, a seaside town north of Boston:
- John Updike lived in Beverly Farms during the latter part of his life
- In 1907 Beverly Hills, CA. was named after Beverly Farms because it was famous for President Taft vacationing there!
 The Book Shop
40 West Street (Route 127)
Beverly Farms, Massachusetts
978-927-2122
www.realbookshop.com
If you are like me, you delight in finding a wonderful, unique bookshop with character and charm. Whether you stumble upon it by chance, or you hear about it from a friend, it’s always a special moment when you first walk through the door, your senses tingling with anticipation. I promise, you won’t be disappointed when you visit The Book Shop in Beverly Farms.
If you’re not familiar with the North Shore, Beverly Farms is the easternmost section of Beverly, about twenty miles north of Boston. You can even take the Commuter Rail there (the Rockport Line), hop off the train, and be just a few steps from The Book Shop and a number of other delightful small shops and eclectic eateries.
As you come into the village by car (on Route 127) The Book Shop is easy to spot–– it will be either the first establishment you see, or the last, depending on the direction you’re traveling. The building itself couldn’t be more inviting because it is actually a house. So, when you walk in the door, you immediately sense the intimate atmosphere, and the friendly staff makes you feel right at home. As you wander from room to room, each one seems more enticing than the last, with a surprisingly large selection of books, including many that have been handpicked to suit local interests and tastes. The cozy room upstairs for children’s books is (of course!) my favorite.
 The children's section of The Book Shop A visit to The Book Shop is invariably an enjoyable, relaxing experience and I always leave with a smile on my face and a bag tucked under my arm. Like the big stores, they offer 20% off the New York Times hardcover best sellers. But sometimes my bag doesn’t contain a book–– often it’s a beautiful card or a special little gift (wrapped for free, of course).Since its beginning in 1968, The Book Shop has been deeply committed to local schools (about a dozen of them!) and the community. The staff works tirelessly on book fairs and other fundraisers that help support school libraries and reading programs.
On a personal note, I have been overwhelmed by the support and enthusiasm of the owner and her wonderful staff. When I first introduced myself as a new author, I was touched by how excited everyone was for me. And whenever I have needed help or advice for an event they have been right there, with everything I needed. With their expertise I know that I never have to worry, and everything will go smoothly.
The Book Shop is everything you might hope for in a charming village setting, where the shops and businesses take pride in quality, individuality, and excellent service, not only to townsfolk, but also to the many travelers that find their way to this delightful seaside community. I hope you can visit soon!
 I’ve been reading (and enjoying!) more dark and gritty tales with suspense and psychological play. Is it a reflection of the cold dark winter, my changing tastes, or simply a willingness – like Mikey in those old Life cereal commercials – to “try it, you’ll like it!”?
Here’s a novel that’s out today (January 17, 2012; HarperCollins/William Morrow), The Face Thief by Eli Gottlieb, author of The Boy Who Went Away and Now You See Him. Even the titles conjure up something mysterious and sinister, don’t they?
A bit about the protagonist, from the jacket flap:
Gottlieb introduces the mystery of the charismatic Margot, a promising journalist who morphs—with stunning panache—from a high-achieving affluent twentysomething into a grifter making her living preying on the weaknesses of men. Having studied the ancient Chinese art of face reading, she becomes an expert at reading people and is also able to rearrange her look and persona with uncanny skill to fit any social situation. She is an avenging angel, shattering marriages and draining bank accounts.
In this excerpt, her mentor gives her some last minute advice before her fourth lesson, the one is which she’s sent to the streets, his “live laboratory,” to assess passersby (p. 48):
“… And here’s a little bit of neurolinguistic programming for background. Most people in the world are right-handed. When right-handers are creating an image in their minds, their eyes generally look up to the right … But if they’re recalling something they’ve heard, like an old song, they look to the left and tilt their head as if listening. If they are remembering a feeling, like say a physical sensation or an emotion, they look down and to the right. People talking silently to themselves also look down to the left. It’s like a compass rose of a sort.”
Now, raise your hand if you’re going to be completely paranoid the next time you’re put on the spot with a question. Will you be thinking about the direction in which your eyes are focusing, the tilt of your head, and other clues your body is signaling? Yes, I will be, too.
Margot sounds like a real con artist, cold and calculating. She has her finger on the emotions of her victims, while not giving away the slightest peak at her own feelings. Is she someone you’d like to get to know through this novel?
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