How We Find Our Books

One of the first books I remember having recommended to me, or the one which has stayed with me, was Anne Tyler's The Accidental Tourist. My friend thought I'd like it because there was a dog in it. But then, when reading it...the dog died! The thing is, though, Tyler did become one of my favorite writers. For a long time every time I read one of her novels, it connected to and paralleled my life. 

From Bookbrowse, and note, Anne Tyler and Elizabeth Strout mentions

Over the years I've learned who I can trust with suggestions. In our women's group there are some who are more intellectual and like deeper books than I and some who like ones which are more social/cultural and emotional for me (for want of a better way to say that). But that's okay. It's actually fun deciding the people I want to offer my books to (just as they do the same with theirs). 

Family also share their books, but a sister and I seldom connect; the same with other relatives. It makes it that much better when we do. Louise Penny's Inspector Gamache series, The Listeners and a Scottish novel of love, growth and ghosts (the name forgotten) come to mind.

I also have reviewers that I trust. Three of my favorites (above) have given starred reviews to the book I'm reading now. I know I added it to my hold list after reading about it somewhere - couldn't remember where and was trying to find it, thinking it'd been New Yorker or The Week. Failed with that, but in doing so I decided to check reviews. Voila! I'm not the only one enjoying Bug Hollow.

Another book, Olive Kitteridge, was recommended years ago by my sister-in-law. She said Olive reminded her of me. Well. Looking forward to it, I read it and thought, "This woman reminds her of me?!?" The protagonist was not someone I'd want others to think of when they thought of me. Again, though, Elizabeth Strout, the author, became one of my favorites authors and I've read all of her books.

Now I'm reading Bug Hollow, and who does the mother remind me of? Olive Kitteridge...and, yes, me. How can that be? Not a lovable figure and so like Olive Kitteridge, and yet, there is a whiff of me. Darn!

 And, Sometimes, What We Find

Ps. Started this draft yesterday and have since, just now, finished it. What a wonderful decades long look at a family. Each perspective, each character their own. Not perfect, but people, members of one family, however unusual and diverse. The mother, that Olive Kitteridge character, imperfect, but a complex human, with foibles and furies living as true to herself as she could.