The blurb for this book mentions a cliffhanger at the end of book one. I didn’t notice that because I had book two ready, so I was able to continue the story. But straight up front, I’m warning you that no matter how wonderful the story is, this book ends in a horrid cliffhanger. I refuse to read anything else in this series.
On the other hand, if you don’t mind that kind of ending, the rest of both of these books are interesting.
I ran out of something to read too early in the night. Libby had this story available to borrow. I wasn’t sure about it. Murder mysteries are not my favorite. Especially in cases where a child is missing. But with the multiple narrators and character development, I was drawn in. Although it was a whodunit, it was more about family relationships, watching the characters grow up without their loved one.
It is undoubtedly sad at times, but one has to find equilibrium after loss. I think that was the main point of the story.
I loved Marybeth Mayhew Whalen’s writing and the acting chops of Cassandra Campbell, George Newbern, Kirby Heyborne, Jane Oppenheimer, Macleod Andrews, and Renata Friedman.
Living under a dictatorship and miserable conditions, the author’s family must leave their beloved home in Cuba, many friends, and relatives. Elena Sheppard takes us through her family history, and we see how difficult it is for her to separate herself from her genealogy.
The story takes us back and forth in time, inner feelings and memories pitted against global occurrences. A little poetic while trying to be accurate.
I found reading or listening to this on Kindle’s text-to-speech feature less than ideal, even though I felt I followed the author’s tale well. I would have loved it more with a narrator, preferably the author. One thing TTS does horribly is other languages. Even though Ms. Sheppard translates her few statements and poems gracefully, I would rather hear the language of Elena’s life. Then again, I am not fluent in Spanish. I’d still need the translation.
This was a very serendipitous read. I ran out of story before sleep took over. I looked up ready to borrow books from Libby and this one was ready.
At first, I thought it was too meandering. It seemed all over the place. There were a lot of characters and points of view. But soon, curiosity took hold of me, and I found I just wanted to know what was happening and why.
Caroline Lee (Narrator) gave the story depth and the Australian accents needed to bring authenticity to the tale. There were times when the accents or t
Finishing a book early on at bedtime, I was left shuffling. Libby had a Jodi Picoult. I thought I could never go wrong with anything of hers. Yet, within the chapter, I realized I had already read Small Great Things. I enjoyed that book, but I wanted something new. So I searched Libby and found My Sister’s Keeper.
This one immediately intrigued me. The younger daughter shows initiative in fixing her problems.
Richard Poe, Julia Gibson, Barbara McCulloh, Tom Stechschulte, Carol Monda, Jennifer Ikeda, and Andy Paris narrate this book, keeping the reader/listener engaged. However, I could not get to sleep at a decent hour.
I loved hearing the characters’ separate points of view.
I’m trying not to give spoilers. There is a great blurb on GoodReads and Amazon if you are interested. But make sure the Kleenex is near the end of the book.
Lin-Manuel Miranda was the one I thought of when I put this on hold on Libby. I want to get better acquainted with Hamilton and the music. I admire that composer; I’m not yet in love with the musical like everyone else. Still, the picture on the front of the book should have given me a clue. This guy has to be older than the Lin-Manuel I saw on a talk show. No. Luis A. Miranda Jr. is Lin-Manuel’s father.
There is a lot to learn from this man and his son. Their passions lead their lives. Music, acting, movies, and stage plays inspired the father. And they were transferred to the rest of the family. This is the part of the memoir I loved the most.
Learning about Puerto Rico and the differences in types of Hispanics cleared many questions I had over the years. And I learned a lot about different types of activism to help others. But here is where I started disconnecting. Was it me or the hours at night I was listening? Before long, I was lost in a sea of politics. Still, I found the enthusiasm Mr. Miranda Jr. displayed during these parts at least made me pay attention. Whether or not I agree didn’t matter. It was inspiring to feel his spirit.
Chill out! Just because we had a tiny bit of snow on Halloween,
Doesn’t mean it’s Winter.
But we can’t lie around like that person. Sigh! I miss summer. Okay, not the extreme drought, or constant fires, but the beaches, time to swim. Time with friends. Friends still with us, and those chillin’ on the other side.
For the Halloween, All Saints Day, Dia de Los Muertos, Samhain celebration/tradition, I just consider it a remembering, I wrote letters to friends, family, God. It helped my deep depression to bring my spirit to a level of energy. Their spirits seem near enough even if I can’t hear what they are saying to me.
When I felt the need to listen, I pulled out the new Yarn Tarot Cards a friend gave me last year. Just like the pictures above help me communicate, pictures, archetypes, (look up the psychiatrist, Jung) help unlock our brains to communicate with ourselves and others.
I had hoped the Yarn Tarot would have patterns to knit or crochet–they missed a good chance! Rather, these are pictures similar to Rider -Waite cards that can spark my imagination. Other people need more elaborate pictures.
We all need that help, prompts. I had a teacher in grade-school who had a box of pictures to help out creative writing. In college, I learned you can pick up any book. Randomly, open close your eyes, pick a spot. The sentence or scripture you land on is something to ponder or write about. Most of the time it guides you. But as my dad would say. Watch out for being too literal. After all, Scripture says, “Judas hung himself.” “Go, ye and do likewise.”
But my stream is meandering as it often does.
The wisdom I gleaned remind me to be calm. To not jump to conclusions
The fork in the road is one we revisit often. Should I have said or done this? And, of course, with the benefit of hindsight, we know what we would have said or done. I guess that is why we aren’t given that knowledge when it would have been helpful.
I should have told her, when she complained of being so tired, to call the doctor immediately. But all I knew then was that she just needed to rest. Not that my COVID-addled brain knew more than coughing and needing to sleep. I was finally over the fever but my friends and I check in on each other often. And of the three musketeers who had known each other for a couple decades we knew age, pain, and strengths of each other.
Three musketeers. They came to visit me shortly after we moved so far away. This was a fun visit.
You know the Bible verse about entertaining angels unawares? I have and sometimes got the breeze from the wings. Michele was one of those
One of the forks in my life. My adult children all moved north. It made no sense to stay. So my husband and I moved north. Before the move, I looked up NaNoWriMo, writing groups, BookCrossing groups.
I found the writers and readers of the new community and found myself at home. Even if my adult children were busy with their jobs and lives, I found my people.
That Writers’ Group set up a lot of friendships for me. I think you have to be quite vulnerable to write inner thought while in a group. This group was open and welcoming. That was due to the one on the left and the one on the right.
Anyway (this stream is so hard to write!),the Sunday night after I finally was fever-free, one of my friends went in for emergency surgery. The very next day the other friend had a heart attack. It was touch and go for both. I’m 6 hours away from them. I couldn’t do anything for either of them. Sadly, Michele passed, or as her daughter said, she gained her wings. I always believed she had wings.
One of the hard parts of writing this is the heart-heavy stuff I want to say I can’t as deeply as I’d like because I don’t want to bring personal names here, to protect both friends.
Michele was raised in a abusive family and then had a few relationships that were equally horrid. But she decided early on to not raise her children in that kind of environment. She found a religion that served her heart, and she dedicated herself to love, God, family, and friends. She was one of those people that didn’t preach. Her love was in how she took care of everyone. Always patient. Always feeling empathy for others. Helping as much as she could, in any way she could. See, she already had the wings. I am going to miss her so much and yet, I feel she will be watching over her family and friends as much as ever, except now, I pray, she is painfree.
My other friend is still in medical care. She had that surgery and hasn’t been able to eat food or even move around for the stitches up and down her abdomen. I wish I could be with her and help her through this nightmare that is both physical and emotional, having lost our mutual friend.
I feel awful that I couldn’t say goodbye to Michele. We did chat on Instant Messenger so at least I know our last conversation was loving and hopeful towards our friend who had the surgery. We had decided we didn’t want to worry the one in the hospital surgery department. But of course with Facebook we can all see what is happening by a peek on our phones.
And my friend in the hospital still had a fever yesterday, and all I can hope is that she has had visitors and rest as I don’t want to call and wake her. Please pray for my friends and their friends and family. I don’t mind a few coming my way. I’m trying not to revisit forks in the road, traveled or not.
Oh, my goodness! This book was fun from the very beginning. My eyes have difficulties tracking to read; even since cataract surgery fixed a lot of my issues, tracking remains nearly impossible. I have been an avid reader since I was little. Reading was slow going, but I got through the ten books allotted by the library every three weeks. The heft of the books was unwieldy, but I didn’t ask for help.
So, I began reading this book on my old phone using the Kindle app. It took me quite a while to get through even half the book. Finally, I caught up with the Libby audiobooks I had checked out, and Piglet became my bedtime book. Now, I could use text-to-speech and speed up the reading quite a bit. And give my eyes a rest.
Another reason I got into this book is my own dog, Kali, passed last spring after being nearly blind and having doggy dementia and bad hearing. It was so hard at the end of her life, but we had such a hard time from the beginning trying to learn from each other that the bond for her was strong in the end. I miss her so much and feel the need to help another dog as soon as I can. Meanwhile, Piglet helped me. Now I feel even stronger about getting another dog. I know there is one out there that needs me as much as I need him or her.
I think this book has a couple of other inspirational stories within. Melissa Shapiro is a veterinarian who tells her story of how she and her husband got together. Then, she shares her children’s aspirations with music. She tells of their college experiences.
By the way, one of her daughters and her husband have honest and raving reviews on the Piglet GoodReads page. I was delighted to read these as I felt I knew them from the book.
This book is full of the good feels a person needs these days. I look forward to looking all over the internet to find videos and follow the dogs, Melissa, and her family, and all the good they are doing for disabled people and animals.
When I feel I am floundering, I need to remember the floundering Ms. Shapiro and her husband went through with that one-pound blind, deaf puppy screaming his needs to them. Floundering is how one finds one’s balance. That is what February gives me. Meanwhile, today my turtles got a little more colorful.
Working on my series: Haven.
Doodler (zendoodle.com)
Music major: voice and piano
Mom of four great adults
Reiki II practitioner
I have been on disability/retired for 10 years now from depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia.
Books, games, music, and life — filtered through the mind of a writer, drummer, and philosopher who thinks too deeply about all of it. If it moves something in your chest, I'm interested.
Children Of The Sun: A Novel of Epic Paranormal Fantasy by Natasja Hellenthal
Darswords 
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