Redbery Books

There is so much to like about this book, I don’t know where to start. I’ll do my best. My friend and I saw Jodi Picoult at a local event for Sing You Home when it was first released. I don’t care what people say, there’s something about hearing an author read his work and talk about it, that gives me shivers and tingles every time. Picoult has so much passion about writing, storytelling and trying to get it all right, you can’t help but want to see what she comes up with next. What made the book event even more satisfying, was the music CD included with the novel. Jodi Picoult wrote the lyrics and Ellen Wilber, who accompanied Picoult at the event, wrote the music and performed songs from the CD (“Sammy’s Song” is my favorite). A reading AND a concert in one - simply magnificent.

Sing You Home introduces us to Zoe and Max Baxter who have tried for nine years to have a child. At first, both want nothing more than to have children. They have used in vitro on more than one occasion and are financially ruined because of it. At one point it becomes clear that the desire for a child has shifted from both of them to only one. What follows is a story of betrayal, misunderstanding, love and hope.

Watch closely as the cast of characters is introduced, including Vanessa Shaw, someone Zoe grows to love; Zoe’s mother, Dara (I think it’s safe to say, we’d like a bit of Dara in all our mothers); Lucy, one of Zoe’s clients; Pastor Clive; and Reid and Liddy, Max’s brother and sister-in-law.

Zoe is a music therapist and consequently, music shapes her life. There is a melody that runs through this novel and Zoe and her music are at the heart of it. The characters are well-drawn and promote definite feelings in us as we read.

I did tire of Picoult’s method of shifting narrator POV each chapter. It’s time she tried something new, or old, for that matter. The alternating typeface was getting on my nerves too. There are so many hot issues introduced in Sing You Home, it amazes me how Picoult links them into one story. Maybe a bit much to absorb and that seems to be recurring in Picoult’s work in the last several years. However, her attention to research, facts and their presentation cannot be beat.

I confess here that I did not read the end of the book, something I routinely do (I HAVE to know it’s going to work out). I was about ready to whip to page 466 when I groused to my friend that everything had better end well. She said, “just wait until you get to the end.” Oh, no, did that mean I was going to have to hurl this book across the room (yes, yes, I know, it’s a petulant act, but sometimes a book has to be hurled)? I did not tell her my plan to sneak a peek. For once in my life, I did as I was told. I closed the book; I cried, then I called my son to tell him again how much I love him.

The Postmistress – what a delight. If you enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, The Postmistress is for you. E.M. Forster wrote at the beginning of Howards End, “Only connect…” and we find that drive to “connect” prevalent in The Postmistress. The novel opens during close to present day with an unidentified character reflecting on the possibility of not delivering a letter. Blake then whisks us back to Europe, 1940 where the U.S. has not yet entered what will become WWII. We meet Frankie Bard, a female reporter working in London, who decides she really must see more of the war.

Back in the U.S., in Franklin, a small New England town, we meet Iris James, The Postmistress who takes her job very seriously. Iris passes on each of the town’s inhabitants’ secrets. One of her own secrets is her feelings for Harry Vale. Both a little older, they seek out each other. Will and Emma Fitch, much younger than Iris and Harry, also manage to find each other. It will be the decisions made by Frankie, Iris, Harry, Will and Emma that will shape the story and bring to our heart the need to connect with someone else.

I can’t say which part of the story I liked more, but perhaps that’s not important. What’s more important is Blake’s way of drawing us in to these two very different, but connected stories: one in Europe and one in theU.S. We see how people deal with war – when they're in the middle of it or when it touches them where they live.

Frankie’s radio broadcasts will chill you with their timeless sadness and the refugees we meet in her travels through Europe will make you hug your loved ones just a bit harder, keep them just a bit closer.