What secret asian girl is Reading

House of the Rising Sun by James Lee Burke

  First, a confession. I had trouble reading this book. I've 

  never read anything by this author and I really didn't 

  know what to expect but the premise sounding promising so

  in I plunged. As you might have surmised from previous

  postings, I don't have a lot of patience for novels that 

  appear misogynistic, macho, demeaning or condescending. I 

  realize (increasingly more so) that some people enjoy this 

  type of story. I make no apologies that I do not.

   So apparently, James Lee Burke is one of those writers. 

   From the very beginning, there are racially-inspired murders, a whorehouse,  complete with an iconic madam with a heart of gold, alcohol-fueled violence, LOTS of detailed descriptions of firearms told with a reverence usually reserved for saints, and crude language focused on sexual exploits toward women who are usually described based on how her skirt clings to her thighs. Oh...and the Holy Grail. The legendary Cup of Christ in this story was the main reason I was interested since I read a lot of historical novels, some with religious lore as the subject. This book does not in any way fall into that category.

I found myself skimming through most of the book, although there were a few passages with beautiful descriptions of life in the early 20th century West and Trinidad. "The peaks of the mountains disappeared into the clouds, their slopes so immense that the forests in the ravines resembled clusters of emerald-green lichen on gray stone." Unfortunately, these brief, colorful respites were interrupted by tired, clichéd lines like, "I've been rode hard and put away wet, Padré." Ack. 

The protagonist, Hackberry Holland (wow), is an alcoholic, sometime-Texas Ranger with a propensity towards violent solutions, a combination that seems to be almost shrugged off by the author. There's lots of holes put in heads, and bullying or killing but all of that is okay, I supposed, because it's the old west where Man is Man and that's what they do. He's married to Maggie but has a child named Ishmael with a prostitute named Ruby. He spends a lot of time figuring out which one he wants, and of course, both want him. When he gets upset, he rides his horse, which he likes, so hard that the horse collapses. Hack gets off, steps over the animal and looks out over the mesa, contemplating who he will kill next.

There's more where Hackberry chases down his son and there is forgiveness and redemption but I had long lost empathy for the characters so I was pretty much skimming at this point. I never got the part where the Holy Grail came into play although I'm pretty sure that Hackberry shot it in an alcoholic rage.

I've seen this book described as a "classic novel of the West." I don't think so, because I've read some really good western novels that depict life in that era as more than just whiskey and women, although I'll admit, the main female characters here were fairly independent, given the time. Not all books should have modern viewpoints thrust upon them; historical accuracy should take precedence. But just as flagrant use of the "N" word doesn't seem fitting in works written today (another criticism I have of this book) neither does outdated stereotypes of any kind fit into the description of "classic" any more. Perhaps new definitions are needed for all modern genres that no longer fit the tiresome mold.

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What secret asian girl is Reading

Wyoming Rugged by Diana Palmer

Let me start by saying that I am not a reader of romance books as a genre. This is not to say that I have never picked one up and read it; in fact, I have, but it was when I was very young and then later as an exercise at the library where I work. It's not that I don't enjoy a book with romance in it, if it's done well and integrates cleverly into a larger plot but generally, I try to stay away from the genre. However, I was hoping that since this author is very popular and I was unfamiliar with her writing, the book would not be a stereotypical example of what I've grown to avoid.

I was wrong.

Keep in mind that I am not the target audience so my perspective, while honest, is without prejudice to fans who do enjoy the genre. Unfortunately, I don't know how else to write a review except from my own particular viewpoint, so the following is only an opinion, with neither pretense nor apology.

Assuming that most of Diana Palmer's readers are women, I can see where a story like this one is escapism in its purest form. I wish women weren't so hung up on a "Daddy Complex" where they fantasize about a man who takes care of them like a porcelain doll, where every need is taken care until their dad is replaced by a younger (but not much) and hotter version of Daddy. He then steps in to take care of their every need leaving them with, well, not much to do except bask in their adoration and decide which swimsuit makes their ridiculously firm bodies, the appearance of which is always a total surprise to them, look sexier.

Money, is of course, never a problem. Either Daddy is independently wealthy and gives his daughter everything she could possible wish for, or as in this story, she quickly develops a thing for his business associate, who cannot possibly contain his attraction for his co-worker's much younger daughter. Is Dad concerned? Nope. Please, take my daughter and do with her as you will. The "meet cute" of the story is in the form of an attempted rape, which, in my opinion, should only rarely be used as a plot device but is apparently, commonly used in many romance novels. In this case, being saved from an attempted sexual assault is attractive to Niki, the main character, and who (of course) is a virgin. At this point, the word "bodice" was used so I bookmarked it. She never forgets Blair's (of course that's his name) chivalry and vows to save herself for the only man who could ever take the place in her life from her devoted father. Blair was the "reason Niki had never dated." As a parent, this would have concerned me a bit but a health issue was thrown in to explain away the reason a teenage girl had no interest in boys her own age. Blair is described as "chiseled," wearing "designer slacks that clung to his broad, muscular thighs." I bookmarked this as well but was laughing too hard to keep track of all of the similarly written clichés.

Sex. I read an article recently about where a library's copies of Fifty Shades of Grey were tested for herpes and came back positive for most copies. While this book contained far less gratuitous scenes than Fifty Shades, I'm pretty sure that  an alcohol wipe wouldn't hurt. Clearly, this is sex as only a kind of woman would imagine it: A giving, self-less man who is concerned only about the pleasure of the woman. A meek and trusting woman who is ignorant about her own body and her own needs who lets the man take charge with no need to ask for anything because all will be provided. This is fiction not of the real world, at least I hope not. At this point, my eyes were hurting from rolling so much.

More sex. Of course, a woman only lives to please her man and then provide babies for him. Unprotected sex is not only romantic but completely without worry that the man would be anything but over the moon to hear the news. Of course, throughout the pregnancy your fifteen pound (more like fifty, in my case) weight gain would barely dent your rockin' hot bod and would then return to "normal" in a few weeks and your pert little pink nippled breasts will not change at all. Stretch marks and bubble butt...what's that?

I could go on and on but I think you get the picture. Like I said, these books are clearly not meant for me. I don't want to be put on a pedestal and, as a popular presidential candidate says, "cherished." Collectible figurines are cherished because they are breakable. I don't want to be on a pedestal or in a "binder." I worry about a fantasy where women are voiceless, powerless and ignorant. And breakable. In my opinion, women should be respected because we are so hard to break. Or at least we should be.

But these books were never meant for women like me.

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What secret asian girl is Reading

North Beach by Miles Arceneaux

For me, reading this historical novel was like trying to walk through the knee-high waters of the Gulf of Mexico on a hot day. You trudge for what seems like hours until your calves ache but the shore seems to get hazier and further away the more you walk and you can't see your feet for all the murky, brown water. I'm not saying I disliked it but  this was the longest 268 pages I've read in a long time. 

Okay, the good stuff: the writing is rich with local color and redolent of the sights and aromas of Texas culture in 1962. I didn't get here until 1964 but I'm pretty sure not much changed (or has changed, in some cases). The author, "Miles Arceneaux," aka John T. Davis, Brent Douglass and James R. Dennis, infuses the story with historical markers like Karankawa Indian sites, Teddy Roosevelt's infamous javelina hunt in 1892 or the devastation of Hurricane Carla the year before. All fairly obscure references, unless one is a local or long-time resident of the area. Many of the descriptions of the area exist only in the memories of folks familiar with the nuances of the Gulf Coast circa early 1960's. The atmosphere jibes with my own memories of going to Galveston in the 1960's, driving onto the beach (you could do that back then) hanging a sheet over the open door of our 1968 Oldsmobile and spending the day in the fine sand and clear waters, searching for shells and sand dollars. Reading this book brought me back to those days but they are definitely gone. I loved the memory of Coke floats and crushed shell roads, though. 

Inter-racial prejudices also are reflected in the relationships of the characters, as does the tension between the US and Cuba at the time. I thought the authors did a good job of expressing the fear and suspicion of the time accompanied by the frustration of citizens of both countries as they tried to support their families and earn a living while their governments duked it out on the world stage. The use of Spanish phrases and colloquialisms also lend a dose of reality to the story. The boxing subplot was predictable and of no interest to me so I felt like I had to wade around that to get to the murder story.

Pace-wise, the book reads like a Hardy Boys Mystery with Encyclopedia Brown dialogue, juvenile and often clumsy with that "Hey, let's go visit the girls," lack of sophistication. Not a terrible thing, if it wasn't also followed with some pretty rough language, derogatory racial epithets and sexual situations. In that sense, I'm not sure who the target readers are, hopefully young adult but even YA readers are used to more sophisticated writing. Even the personalities seem pulled from a bag that reads "Scooby-Doo Characters." Naive, impressionable Charlie and his older brother Johnny, charismatic with the gift of diplomacy. Uncle Flavio, aka "Riptide," who "coulda been a contender," the troubled, mentally challenged friend - gee, will he get blamed? - the Bad Guy, who couldn't be more obvious if he'd worn a tee-shirt proclaiming "Bad Guy" on the front and who, I half expected to say at the end, "And I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for these pesky kids!!" Maybe my cynical perspective comes from too much plot exposure but I found it difficult to get into the story with so much cliché overload. Also, I realize the story takes place in the 1960's but I guess I could do without the female condescension of the era. The rape description, I thought, was gratuitously violent, not just for the target audience but unnecessary for the plot progression.

I started by saying that I didn't dislike the book (wow, what does she write about the books she hates?) because I did enjoy the memories of a bygone era and the historical references. I wish it had been better crafted with more faceted, more layered characters. Perhaps it's the result of three male authors collaborating on a macho-infused crime novel but I wish Carmen had been more than just the object of his first conquest. And I wish her mother was more than just a barrier to that goal. What's it like to live and work in a country where you are always the outsider and blamed first? Do you keep at it or just give up and go home? I guess I'll have to ask my relatives that because it wasn't addressed in this book, but maybe that's a different kind of book.

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What secret asian girl is Reading

 Mysteries of Love and Grief
by 
Sandra Scofield

"Frieda is one of a legion: women who have stood at graves and at the doors of empty houses and seen a sea of empty prospects." Not exactly a cheery description to entice readers. Nevertheless, an honest and forthright start to this author's often confusing relationship with her grandmother and the woman who stood between them. It is a stormy relationship; a triumvirate of three generations of headstrong women. Frieda, born in 1906 in Oklahoma, her daughter Edith, and her granddaughter, Sandra, the author. Much of each of their personas are shaped by their circumstances, either by the depression, war, men, poverty, abandonment and sometimes ambivalent pregnancies. But the true parallels in these women's lives are too similar to blame it on just genetics. The anger at each other for irresponsible and often irrepressible behavior is bounced back off their own tendencies and much of the book is a diary-like examination of trying to understand why they don't get along. I'm not certain if the author ever understood that history tends to repeat itself if the cause is never reckoned with. And children mimic parents. Self-respect, it seems, is a learned behavior.

Frieda, a child of abandonment, grows up in a time where women didn't have many choices. She survives, although not without the scars of bad decisions and  buckled by the ghosts of her past. Bad choices, bad husbands and domestic abuse all contribute to her having to pick herself up over and over. It also toughens her resolve to give a better life to her children: Edith, Eula May and Sonny. It also affects her attitudes toward men. "Why kill a man? Let God take care of them. Let them burn in hell." Not exactly the words of a woman in a loving relationship. Her daughter, Edith, fares no better in the marriage department, but her dream-like appearance attracts plenty of suitors which she cannot bring herself to truly love. The author realizes that she is the result of one of these dalliances and begins to doubt her confidence in her mother's ability to care for her, and more importantly, herself. Edith is self-centered. "If there was one orange, Edith would eat it." Sandra goes to live with Frieda but never seems to be able to figure out the hostility between the two older women. She connects to her grandmother as she never could with her mother. Frieda's promises, "I will never complain, I will never ask, "Why me?," I will take care of those I love," become meaningful. As Sandra grows into womanhood herself, she experiences some of the same strife her mother and grandmother did. Like her mother and grandmother before her, she feels the stirrings of rebellion and the need to break away from her family and figure herself out.

The copy of this book that I read was an unedited, advanced reader copy. I hope that the final version is more organized and edited because I found myself lost many times in the timeline. I made a copy of the family tree so I wouldn't get lost but the narrative jumps back and forth, especially regarding Frieda's death in 1983. There's a lot of confusion in the storytelling but there are also pockets of brilliant wisdom and great writing. The description of Frieda's final days was a perfect, ordered way to end a life: in your own home, with all your good-byes said, no loose ends. She wanted no visitors and no mourners. Frieda eventually stopped eating, Sandra says. "Nothing in her needed feeding." I can't think of a better way to come to an end.

If you're a mother, a daughter or a granddaughter you will immediately recognize the coarse strings that hold these women together. They bind us even while we do our best to cut them, stretch them to their limits and even gnaw at them with our teeth to escape. It is only after one of them inexplicably falls free that we feel the terrifying vacuum of their absence, the slackness of the support that once held us up. At least, that is, until we recognize their all too familiar presence lurking within ourselves.


BUY LINKS:

AMAZON - http://www.amazon.com/Mysteries-Love-Grief-Reflections-Plainswomans/dp/0896729419
B&N - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mysteries-of-love-and-grief-sandra-scofield/1121203505?ean=9780896729414
Texas Tech Press - http://ttupress.org/books/mysteries-of-love-and-grief

What secret asian girl is Reading

The Girl Who Slept with God by Val Brelinski.

I don't know if you have to have lived through the 1970's to fully appreciate this book or not but given the detail the author put in, it certainly felt like the time period. From the music to the character's use of Yardley lip gloss, Love's Baby Soft or even the description of sanitary napkin belts, it was clear to me - having used those products myself - that I was in the 70's. When the story takes place is crucial to the plot. Two girls, 17 and 14, Grace and Jory respectively, live with their evangelical elder father and psychologically hindered mother, along with younger sister Frances in Arco, Idaho. The feminist movement had not set foot in this strict but not overly restrictive home, but readers who are used to living in less structured times might be shocked at what these girls have never experienced. Dad, Oren Quanbeck, is also a professor of astronomy at the local college, which, one would think would serve to create conflict but instead validates Oren's already devout belief system. "Science and religion don't have to be mutually exclusive," he insists. While Oren's world is explainable and makes sense to him, Jory is not so sure. Her sister, Grace, has returned from a missionary trip to Mexico pregnant, and convinced she has been chosen to give birth to a divine child of God. The mystery of her conception, whether divine or not, is mostly inconsequential. Here's where religion and the practical world collide, as dealing with the stigma of an unwed teen, the daughter, no less, of a church elder and school professor and doing right by your own child can lead to making unwise choices. 

Pregnant Grace, along with her younger sister Jory, are sent off to live in a nearby town alone with only an elderly neighbor to watch over them. To complicate matters, 14-year old Jory is feeling the teen urges to break rules, push limits and experiment. Cue Grip, a 25-ish loner who drives the creepiest of vehicles, an ice cream truck, and seems to provide friendship and solace to Jory now beset with the trauma of moving to a new school and living with her zealot sister, who refuses to explain her behavior. Jory becomes increasingly disillusioned with her family's religion (Mom is nowhere to be seen, usually off lying down with a headache), her sister's crazy situation, and her dad's inability to see that things are not going to be "all right." Grip provides sanity for her and more importantly, friendship as she navigates her way through a secular school for which she has no proper clothes and feels like she's been living under a rock for the past 10 years. Now she's exposed to situations all teens eventually seem to face: drinking, drugs, betrayal and sex. Can she ever go back to the protected ways of her family or will she choose a life outside of her father's protection? 

Personally, I found this book so engrossing because, while I never experienced the extremes Jory did, there were some parallels to my own life, from the 1969 sea green Chevy Malibu (my sister had one) to the hospital in the book, Good Samaritan, the same name of the hospital where I was born. I like that the story asked hard questions about religious rhetoric, especially when there seems to be an uptick today toward conservatism's least favorable aspects. Feminism sacrificed much to give women a voice and much of traditional patriarchal religion threatens to silence that if we go back. Jory represents the chasm between those two worlds, back in the 1970's. The desire to express yourself pitted against what is or isn't acceptable, according to others. I've been there and have no desire to go back. Regardless of your age, I think you'll find this debut novel an often uncomfortable examination of your own beliefs, or at least open your mind to critical pause, which is what I think every good story should do.

What secret asian girl is Reading

The Neptune Challenge by Polly Holyoke

In the first book of the series, The Neptune Project, Nere learns an unsettling truth about her family. Her new-found abilities underwater, as well as some physical challenges which have been the source of some social insecurities, have been in fact, caused by her own mother. In addition to normal teen/parent friction, Nere must now come to terms with the fact that her scientist mother, Gillian, bio-genetically engineered her daughter's DNA for survival. Nere's poor eyesight, shortness of breath, ability to stay underwater for long periods of time, were all deliberate adjustments made by her parents in order to save humanity from a no longer safe existence on land. The down side: it is a life without her family...but not necessarily alone. Nere has the companionship and loyalty of a pod of dolphins she and Gillian had been training with the help of Nere's enhanced telepathic communication skills. She, and the other kids like Nere, adjust as best they can and learn to make peace with their parents' betrayal, no matter how well-intended. The sequel, The Neptune Challenge, deals with the dynamics of her new "mutate family," which brings new betrayal, true evil, and reveals loyalties she no longer thought possible.

I'm always looking for a sophisticated middle school level series that I can recommend to my library customers of that age who are not yet ready for YA but bored by traditional series. Too often, juvenile fiction is in a rush to appear "cool" by introducing obvious mature subject matter or gets bogged down with complicated fantasy which can be distracting. The Neptune series does mildly disappoint by following the typical "teen outcast finds her unique skill which ultimately makes her popular" theme which I normally find unoriginal but the storyline is so exciting and clever, I often forgot it was juvenile fiction. There is also a hint of teen romance but not so much it renders the protagonist catatonic, an insulting and all too common theme in many popular series. 

I found the plot even and edgy, without being contrived. Ms Holyoke is not afraid to cross the line in juvenile fiction that some parents draw regarding reality and violence. There is brutality, torture, death and savagery in these novels, but the author tempers it with sacrifice, commitment and forgiveness without being sappy. I think kids nowadays not only can handle it, but they expect it. There is also the subtle message of preserving and protecting our planet from the dangers of climate change and overzealous harvesting of our seas. Readers who understand the symbiosis of marine and land life will find this series a reminder of how humankind's survival depends on learning to share our planet with all her other occupants.


For more information on these books visit here.
Buy Links:

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Click here to learn more about Texas author Polly Holyoke.

How to Age Gracefully

I love this. Apparently, "Stay weird" is the best advice no matter how old you are.

What secret asian girl is Reading

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

I probably shouldn't have read all the hype and suspicion surrounding the publication of Go Set a Watchman before reading it. Armed with a prejudice against it, I put it off as long as I could until I could no longer escape the inevitable questions, "Have you read it yet?" "I think I'm going to hate it, did you?" When you work at a library, these are daily fodder. No, I did not hate it. I did strongly dislike the construction of the plot, if you can call it that, but the previews prepared me for that. My first curiosity was of the title, which I looked up and, knowing Ms. Lee's predilection for biblical reference and her age, is from the King James Bible: "For thus hath the Lord said unto me, Go, set a watchman, let him declare what he seeth" (Isaiah 21:6). Since this novel is written from the perspective of the now grown Scout, going by her given name, Jean Louise, I figured it would be about something she is witnessing or realizing for the first time. 

It's no spoiler to say that Jean Louise's eyes are opened to the true nature of her famous father, Atticus Finch, champion of the downtrodden, protector of equal rights, when she follows him to a town meeting of ex-Klansmen and town bigots. If you're offended by the word "nigger," stop right there and don't even read this at all. As offensive as this word is to us today, to deny that it had a place in history is to deny history itself. It didn't take as much courage as you'd think to bandy this word around - and it's used a LOT - when this book was written, as it was more a part of colloquial speech than we'd care to admit. Most of the book is about Jean Louise's reconciliation with the fact that her father, and her town for that matter, has proverbial feet of clay and that he doesn't really care about the little folk but is a true knight of the law, defender of the Constitution as it stands regardless of whether it's right. Jean Louise finds this revelation about her father abhorrent and starts to question her entire childhood. If Atticus can be a racist and a segregationist, then what am I?

At this time, in the mid-fifties, blacks were still living in the long shadow of Reconstruction, especially in the South, and Jean Louis, fresh from a two-year stint in New York, is naive to what is behind the "kindness" and "harmony" Southern whites exhibited toward blacks. Tolerance implies a certain reluctance, doesn't it? Her uncle Jack, whose rambling explanations are so tangled up with literary allusions and anecdotes, is no help whatsoever, leaving Jean Louise to figure it out for herself. Her old standby, maid and nursemaid Calpurnia, now infirm and living with her family, is suddenly cold to her. As a child, Scout lived the life of a protected, and privileged white girl in bright and happy Oz. The reality for many, including Calpurnia, was a black and white Kansas...a life of hardship and denial. What Scout realizes is that the hometown never changed. Her boyhood friend and wannabe fiancé is the same boy he always was. Atticus never pretended to be more than he was. What's changed is how Jean Louise sees the world. Her disappointment is really in herself for not seeing things as they really are. Acceptance, and yes, tolerance, is part of adulthood and as Jean Louise comes to the conclusion that she could never live in a place where she disagrees with so many people, Uncle Jack tells her that's precisely why she must move here and reminds her that a closed society like theirs will never change without fresh blood. He tells her, "The woods are full of people like you, but we need some more of you."

Perhaps Ms Lee never intended for this book to be published because of the popularity of To Kill a Mockingbird, her only other published work. Fans finding out Atticus's true nature might fear ruining his legacy just as Jean Louise had trouble accepting it. Fans, like Scout, may have mistaken her father for God. Or maybe she felt that her readers weren't ready or open-minded enough for the truth. I think readers today are used to characters being more complicated. There's no such thing as a White Knight (no pun intended) and more often than not, princesses have to save themselves. And if you think we live in a post-racist world, you're not paying attention. I liked the message in this book, that you have to try to see past your own perspective to get a better glimpse of reality. You are no longer a child and no one's going to tell you what to accept; you are your own Watchman.

What secret asian girl Is Reading

Dateline: Purgatory, Examining the Case That Sentenced Darlie Routier to Death by Kathy Cruz

• True Crime

• Texas Christian University Press Ft. Worth, Texas

• April 13, 2015

• 217 pgs.

There used to be a customer at the library who always came in to check out only true crime fiction. She wore dark glasses, a bad synthetic black wig and white gloves no matter what month or how hot it was on the calendar. In Texas, that's 10 out of 12. Anyway, whenever I think of readers of this genre, I think of this mysterious lady who is either the most morbid of characters or else secretly starring in her own true crime adventure and is looking for ideas. Either way, frightening. I consider myself neither so I began this book with more than a little trepidation. 

I can't honestly say that I remember this case, which took place here in Texas on June 6, 1996, cleverly, but perhaps unfortunately, labeled "the 6-6-6 murders," which is probably a bad idea if you're trying to find reason to exonerate Darlie Routier, not associate the woman with evil. As author Kathy Cruz reminds us in the first few chapters, Darlie and her husband, Darin, along with their three young sons, Damon, Devon and baby Drake, lived in the Dallas suburb of Rowlett, near Plano. The police report states that 26 year old Darlie claimed she was awakened in the early morning of June 6, 1996 to some disturbance. What happened after that is confusing and jumbled, at least in the book. Darin, who was sleeping upstairs, says he heard his wife scream and found his two older sons stabbed, blood everywhere and his wife hysterical, bleeding from knife wounds. Eventually, no spoiler here, Darlie was found guilty of the murders of both boys and sentenced to death by lethal injection. Almost twenty years later, uncharacteristic of other female murderers, she insists that she is innocent. Intruders, she says, in the house not only committed the killings but also injured her by slashing her throat and cutting her arm almost to the bone, for which she spent several days recovering in the hospital. In the years since the murders, speculation has strengthened regarding the involvement of her husband, Darin, whose shady financial woes and violent temperment could clarify Darlie's murky motive issue. For whatever reason, this angle was never thoroughly investigated. Darlie went to prison. Darin remains free. If Darlie is innocent, who is she covering for? Why didn't Darlie tell anyone but one close relative that she sprung some potentially volatile news on Darin the evening of the murders?

My gripe about the book is that there is no set timeline to the narrative. Chapter 1 starts with the crime, but then skips around from interview of Barbara Davis, another true crime writer who initially characterized Darlie as guilty but now regrets her book's influence on Darlie's sentence to random stories about how broken the Texas justice system is. In some ways, I feel like this book was not so much about Darlie Routier's innocence as much as how how poorly the case was handled by everyone all around, including Darlie's family. The moral Ms Cruz's story seemed to be, "if it can happen to her, it can happen to you." Darlie's family, trusting the police to find the truth, granted interviews without legal representation, all of which (surprise!) can, and was, used against her. She even states, later, her regrets about trusting the system to find her innocent. Recent news stories involving Texas police officials seem to corroborate this. I've heard folks say that if you plan to commit a crime, don't do it in Texas. Apparently, it's just as dangerous to NOT commit a crime but get accused of it. The book quotes a private investigator in Texas making a statement about "questionable testimony from 'experts' who value the money they are paid by the state more than they value the truth." He also says there are "no white hats" in Texas, only people who care about winning. Pretty damning.

Beyond the linear storyline confusion, I wish the photo layout was more synched with the text. Small, black and white photos of the "players" didn't always match the page the commentary was on. Perhaps a middle of the book photo spread would have been more helpful in following the story. The pictures of Darlie's injuries are gruesome and convincing of Darlie's innocence or at least, incapacity for infliction on herself. I'm not sure how determined (or crazy) you'd have to be to slash your own throat and arm almost to the bone. In 1996, it was accepted for a prosecutor to make the statement that it must have been self-inflicted, that's why she wouldn't slash her expensive, enhanced breasts. I hope that's no longer accepted as "common sense" but you never know, here in Texas, at least that's what the author believes.

Finally, I don't understand why the title is Dateline: Purgatory. The only reference to "purgatory" is the city of Purgatory, Colorado where Darlie met Darin. The definition of purgatory, in a religious context, is the state of being in which sinners purge themselves of their sin before entering the joys of heaven. If the purpose of this book is to exonerate Darlie, and save her from heaven, what was her sin? I'd say, harboring a blind trust in a lazy legal system that has more to gain from a quick fix and has no interest in discovering the truth.

Lisa

Well, I lied. I promised I'd be back  and I wasn't. Fortunately, I have a pretty good excuse. A year ago, last August, my only sister Lisa was diagnosed with cancer. Nasopharyngeal cancer, to be specific. The term "blessings and curses" comes to mind because while cancer is definitely a curse, the blessing is that we live in a city that is known worldwide for its cancer research and facility. For the past year, I've seen her go through highs and lows, hours of vomiting to glimpses of feeling "normal." There is nothing more humbling than to see a loved one go through this horrible experience and I wouldn't wish it on anyone - okay, maybe on one person. 

Watercolor I made of Lisa during her chemo treatments.

Still, here we are. She's been through chemo (not as bad as we thought it would be), $15,000 shots to build up blood count (makes you feel like the worst flu of your life, she says) to radiation therapy which begins by sitting you in a room with a doctor who explains to you how horrible the side effects are and then says, "If you're sure you want to go through this, then please sign here. Also, I will need a witness to sign here." Uh...I've changed my mind. As a support person, my job was not to convince Lisa to do anything but rather to act as a sounding board, all the while trying not to influence her decision. Radiation was an extreme decision and one she almost did not choose, but ended up deciding to take the risk rather than come to the end of the road knowing that she did not do everything medicine offered in order to save her life. I secretly hoped she'd choose the radiation therapy, but didn't want to be the reason. Our mother confided to me that she hoped Lisa did not choose it, opting instead for the easier, less stressful 2nd round of chemo option. Part of that is my fault. While Mom knows most everything about Lisa's disease, she is not privy to ALL the details. She does not, for example, know that this kind of cancer will never go away. The best we can hope for is to keep its growth at bay and keep scanning for new growth. She also doesn't know that there are spots on her liver, spine and pelvis. She does not know, or maybe she refuses to accept, that this disease will most likely be what kills her daughter but that we are fighting to make that day as far away as possible. It was not my choice to keep this information from our mother. If it were me, as Tristan counseled me, I would want to know. Of course, I would want to know. It's not anyone's right to take away the right to know from a mother. But I am not in charge. Lisa chose to edit some of these details, and other family members support her in this, against my wishes and beliefs. My mother is 86 years old. They don't believe she would handle it well. Ignoring the fact that my mother is the strongest woman I know, I was voted down.

So, there's my excuse. Pretty good one, I guess. We are taking it one day at a time and I am happy to report that the chemo, the radiation and the subsequent psychotherapy has done what it's supposed to do. Now...we wait. I've come to accept, and I think Lisa has too, that feeling vulnerable and being on guard has become a way of life. One of those blessings I was talking about is that she is employed by a company that is very accommodating to her illness. She has good insurance, and she is able to work to maintain her policy which takes care of most of her expenses. Blessings. She says she wants to feel normal again. I know. So do I.