It's Monday! What Are You Reading?

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a bookish meme hosted by Book Journey. It's where we gather to share what we have read this past week and what we plan to read this week. It's a great way to network with other bloggers, see some wonderful blogs, and put new titles on your reading list. So hop on over via the link above and join in...and leave a comment here so I can check out what you are reading.

I'm still playing catch-up from not reading while on vacation.  I've also hit a bit of a slump so it's been up-hill work on every book I've picked up so far--no matter how much I'm liking it.

Books Read (click on titles for review):

The 39 Steps by John Buchan 
Fatal Induction by Bernadette Pajer 
The Nine Wrong Answers by John Dickson Carr

Currently Reading:

File No. 113 by Émile Gaboriau: On the surface, the crime seems simple. A bank's secure safe is robbed. One of the two men who holds the key must be guilty. One key-holder is the bank's owner who lives above the bank with his family, the other is the bank's trusted manager-a man like a son to the owner. What if neither is guilty? How did this safe, with every security measure known and employed at the time, get robbed? Leave it to Monsieur Lecoq of the Sûreté, a policeman of many disguises and much guile to uncover the devastating truth of deceit, betrayal, lies, murder and sordid family histories that lead to the crime.

Books that spark my interest:

North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell 

Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen

The Fifth Man by Manning Coles

Saturday Snapshot: Back From Vacation

Saturday Snapshot is a meme hosted by Alyce at At Home with Books. All you have to do is "post a photo that you (or a friend or family member) have taken and then leave a direct link to your post in the Mr. Linky on [her] blog. Photos can be old or new, and be of anything as long as they are clean and appropriate for all eyes to see. How much detail you give is up to you." All she asks is that you don't just post random photos that you find online. (Click pictures for close-up).

I missed two weeks worth of Saturday Snapshot due to vacation and recovery from same.  Those who follow the blog will know that the hubby and I took off on a road trip along the classic Route 66.  We followed it all the way to Stroud, Oklahoma and then turned around for home.  Here are a few highlights from the trip:

It was always a reassuring sight to see this sign...it meant we were still on target.

Garage area and a classic car at the Wagon Wheel Motel, a vintage Route 66 stop in Cuba, MO.  Holds the distinction of being the oldest continuously open motel on the Route.  We stayed there our first night out.

One of many murals throughout the town of Cuba.  Known as "Mural City."  This one depicts a scene from the Civil War.

Fairly new-built, classic-look Sinclair station (non-working) in Paris Springs, MO.  Lots of vintage cars and Route 66 memorabilia.

The oldest section of Route 66 that we traveled--pre-1937. Paved in 1922, but little of the asphalt remains.  This was the longest section of asphalt we saw--the rest was gravel on a concrete base.

Happy Burger, a cute little diner that's been on Route 66 for over 50 years.  Best tater tots ever!

The Nine Wrong Answers: Review

I'm going to blame the heat.  I'm feeling quite lethargic and am having to force myself to read what I know are quite fantastic books (after all, most of them have spent years on my TBR pile--I must have put them there for very good reasons at some point, right?).  And right now I am feeling very grumpy and disgruntled and haven't much enjoyed my latest excursion into the very tricky world of John Dickson Carr.  

Generally speaking, I adore Carr and his alter ego Carter Dickson and devour his books like they might disappear out of my hands before I finish.  I like his impossible crimes and his effortless way of playing fair with the reader and still making you come up with the wrong answer.  And I have a very clear memory of being astounded and delighted by The Nine Wrong Answers when I discovered it at the tiny little public library in Spencer, IN twenty-some years ago. [That place was a gold mine of vintage mysteries...but I digress.]  I hunted high and low in used bookstores between then and 2009 before I found a copy of my own.  I put it on the TBR pile for a reread at some suitable moment and, when I decided to do a Vintage Challenge Theme called Murder by the Numbers, decided that this year was the moment.  Perhaps July in the middle of a heat wave wasn't quite the moment.

So, here's the scoop: Bill Dawson goes for a visit to a lawyer who has advertised for him.  It seems his grandma has passed away and left him a hundred pounds.  This is good news for Bill who had left England after a failed romance and managed to not do so very well in the States.  While he waits to see the lawyer, he overhears part of Larry Hurst's story, another man due for an inheritance--if he can carry out the undesirable instructions that will make him eligible.  Hurst, who is also in the States, is being given $10,000 and the requirement that he must return to England and visit his uncle every week for a period of six months in order to be named as his uncle's heir.  Hurst does not want to go.  He claims that his uncle terrorized him as a child and there is no way he can face the man now.  

It is discovered that Dawson is in the outer room and has heard most of the conversation.  He has a preliminary discussion with Amberley (the lawyer) and is told to return the next day.   When he leaves, Hurst comes rushing after him and offers him the $10,000 if Dawson will impersonate him and take his place in visiting the dreaded uncle.  After a bit of wavering and interference from Hurst's fiancee, Joy Tenant (who is definitely against the idea), the deal is struck and identification is exchanged.  The three of them go out to a bar to discuss details, but before the night is over Hurst is struck down--apparently poisoned.  Joy disappears and Dawson flees the scene as well.  He is worried about the situation until a newspaper clipping shoved under the hotel door reveals that someone must have removed Dawson's passport, etc. from Hurst's pockets.  The victim in the paper is referred to as an "unknown." So it appears safe for Dawson to go ahead with the impersonation--which he feels honor-bound to do, having promised Hurst in those final moments in the bar that he would "settle with him, Larry.  So help me, I'll settle with him."

So, Dawson takes off for England to do just that. Along the way he encounters romance and adventure and, of course, the evil tricks of the so-called uncle (what uncle would treat a nephew like that) and his man-servant Hatto.  And, of course there are the nine answers.  These are represented in the footnotes which Carr provides at various points throughout the novel.  Ostensibly to clear up any misconceptions the reader has and to "help" the reader to the correct solution.  But readers should be very careful about how they interpret the "help" they're given.

I am quite sure that Carr really has played fair with us--and that is certainly the impression I came away with twenty years ago.  However, I can only go by my reading of the novel this time--and this time I feel thoroughly bamboozled.  I even had to go back and double-check a few of the footnotes just to make sure I hadn't been.  I hadn't.  But that's the way I feel and it has colored my reading of the novel.  I am also thoroughly unimpressed with Dawson and his lady-love--she who was part of the broken romance of before and who has popped up again in his life (shall I go on about the coincidences that I noticed big as life this time? Okay, I won't--'cause like I said I think I'm mostly just too hot to read and concentrate properly....).  I have no idea why these two people want to stay together....all they do is argue.  And keep going on about how they won't be jealous this time.  

Not my best reading of one of the classic mystery field's finest--Carr deserves better.  That's why I'm giving him him a straight three stars for this outing and allowing the four star rating from my previous reading to stand on Goodreads.  I do suggest you read this one--just wait for cool weather and a clear head to do so.

I'm From. An Autobiography

into her book by Rick Beerhorst

I'm from good old fashioned Midwestern roots which means I'm a mixed bag.  I'm from Sweden and England and France and few odd bits that we're not sure about.  (But I'm also from not being Swedish enough [according to the hubby's side of the family] because I don't like pickled herring.) I'm from a down-to-earth upbringing--of do unto others and mean what you say.  I'm from a promise is a promise and you make it right when it's not.  I'm from family comes first and loyalty means something.  I'm from respect your elders and love your friends and being there for each other.  I'm from working hard for what you want and working to be the best.  I'm from competitive stock--from competing with my dad at board games to keeping up with the boys to wanting to be the best academically.  I'm from hating to lose and hating to give up--but knowing when I have and I have to and being a good loser.  I'm from owning my mistakes and doing my best to learn from them.  I'm from having no regrets--except for the things I haven't done.

I'm from family camping caravans--trips to Mackinac Island and South Dakota and wading in the headwaters of the Mississippi with Aunt Mable in her pantyhose. I'm from celebrating my 10th birthday at a campground in North Dakota where it was so windy that the pancake syruped plates in the morning were slapping us in the face and the candles on my cake in the evening wouldn't stay lit long enough for me to blow them out.   I'm from making it a point to camp at every state park in Indiana.  I'm from plastic patio lights hanging from the camper canopies and playing card games by their glow.  I'm from learning to do my first word puzzles from my second cousins underneath those canopies.  I'm from fishing for blue gill with my parents and grandparents and great-uncles.  I'm from roasting hotdogs over the campfire and sneaking bites to Blackie, Uncle Joe's dog.  I'm from having the best little pies ever--made with bread and ready-made pie filling in a special pie maker for over the fire. I'm from wrangling with my cousins over who got to walk Muff, Uncle Gene's Lhasa Apso, and who got to be partners with Uncle Gene for playing jarts.  And I'm from worshipping those same cousins--because I had no brothers and I thought they walked on water.

I'm from family get-togethers at my grandma's.  Sitting with the grownups discussing everything from politics to football to what Grandma heard at the hairdresser's last Saturday.  I'm from sitting around Grandma's tables (yes, plural) with about 10-15 of us at meal-time, eating Grandma's meatloaf and shellie beans with Boston cream pie or cherry delight for dessert.  And later sitting around those same tables playing bid euchre and watching my cousin Kevin get mad because he "shot the moon" and then couldn't make all of his tricks.  I'm from sitting around the smaller of those tables with Tim & Kevin, playing everything from tiddly-winks to bingo to Chinese checkers to Scooby-Doo Mystery Game and drinking Choc-ola and eating vanilla wafers.  I'm from sitting at that table at other times and helping Grandma cut out the homemade dumpling or noodles that she made so well.  And, then again, sitting up on that table while Grandma gave me my very first permanent.

I'm from parents who love me and support me no matter what.  Parents who believed I could do anything I wanted--and who made me believe it too and taught me that it never mattered that I was a girl.  I'm from climbing trees and playing with army men and Tonka dump trucks.  I'm from playing tackle football with the boys and getting angry when they thought we'd have to play flag football because I was girl.  I'm from never crying like they thought I would.  I'm from freeze tag and dodge ball and "ghosts in the graveyard."  I'm from catching lightning bugs in the cool June evenings.   I'm from Brownies and Girl Scouts and earning every badge offered in the early 80s but one.  I'm from softball and volleyball and basketball teams in elementary school and never playing organized sports again until the English Department's co-rec team over the last 5 1/2 years.  

I'm from being a "Daddy's girl."  Not the over-protected, wrapped in cotton wool kind.  But the gotta be out doing what Dad's doing kind.  Digging post holes for the new fence? Let me at it.  Ice skating and sledding and even shoveling the driveway.  I'm right there.  I'm from shooting hoops and playing "horse."  I'm from trimming the trees and mowing the lawn.  I'm from let me build the fire and show me how to pitch a tent and "what are you building, Dad--can I help?"  But I'm also from being a Daddy's girl in taking after him--too much.  We're from a long line of stubborn on my dad's side of the family.  The Bunches are full of it.  And for the longest time, I was the only one in the line-up not too stubborn to admit I was stubborn.

I'm from Star Trek and Saturday morning cartoons--from the Bugs Bunny/Roadrunner hour to my favorite Scooby Doo.  I'm from watching all the good old television shows and movies on Saturday and Sundays--The Lone Ranger and The Cisco Kid; The Bowery Boys and Abbott and Costello; Shirley Temple and the Little Rascals; and Zorro and Superman (the old black & white version).  I'm from watching every western and war movie that John Wayne ever made to every comedy made by Martin & Lewis to every "Road to..." movie made by Crosby and Hope.  I'm from watching Rich Little do his impressions and the Bob Hope Specials and the Dean Martin Celebrity Roasts.  I'm from everything from the Carol Burnett Show to the Muppet Show and Emergency! to Adam 12.

I'm from Oldies music.  I may have grown up in the 80s, but I'm from the Beatles and the Beach Boys; the Temptations and the Supremes. I'm from 70s music playing in Dad's old red Nova and lying on the red, black, and white checkered back seat listening to "Jukebox Saturday Morning" on WOWO out of Ft. Wayne.  I'm from "Blinded by the Light" playing on the car radio while Dad set up the camper in the dark at Chain-o-Lakes State Park.  But as I've grown, I'm also from Southern Gospel Music and Celtic harp and blues and jazz and big band and classical with a bit of (selective) country thrown in for flavor.  I'm from watching Hee Haw to the Barbara Mandrell Show to the Donny & Marie Show to the Andy Williams Christmas Specials every year. And speaking of specials...I'm from the Charlie Brown specials.  I'm from "It's the Great Pumpkin...." to "It's the Easter Beagle" to "It's a Charlie Brown Christmas." The holidays just never would have been the same without the Peanuts gang.  

I'm from spending the weekend at Grandma's.  I'm from riding with my great-grandpa in the early years--going to Osco to pick up the "funny papers" and riding with my Grandpa Ingols later on.  Doing the rounds with him to pick up prescriptions and the Sunday paper and stopping by the gas station so the owner could give me a candy bar.  I'm from Grandma making the perfect fried eggs and bacon with thin toast so crispy and buttered just right.  I'm from Grandma defending all her grandkids' behavior with "They're just going through a stage."  I'm from trips in Grandma's Gremlin (yes, that really was a car) to "Kmark" to pick up film for her "camry"--and, boy, could she get "infused" about that.  I'm from going to Dennison's (local market) with the first-ever kid-size grocery carts and being given miniature hot dogs to eat straight from the deli.  I'm from Grandma always putting family first and making sure her grandkids had what they needed.  I'm from loving Grandma for realizing that her granddaughter didn't want all those dollbabies for Christmas and buying my Tonka semi-truck.  And I'm from Grandpa never talking much, but with a sense of humor that could stun you when he chose to use it.

And you know I'm from books.  I'm from Where's the Bunny? (Aunt Helen and my earliest remembered book) and Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?  I'm from Mom's set of Nancy Drew books and The Four-Story Mistake and Ghosts Who Went to School. I'm from the Hardy Boys and Trixie Belden and all those collections of Hitchcock-chosen mystery short stories.  I'm from Sherlock Holmes and Edgar Allan Poe and Little Women and Gone With the Wind.  I'm from Emily Dickinson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Rainer Maria Rilke.  I'm from Star Trek novels and Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Robert Silverberg, Harlan Ellison, Ursula K LeGuin, and James Tiptree, Jr.  I'm an eclectic mix of everything from mystery to science fiction to classic lit to historical fiction and biography.  I'm from the idea that "the girl's got to read" and there's no better place to spend your time and your money than a good used bookstore.

I'm from walking downtown on a weekly (or more often) basis--to visit the Wabash Carnegie Library and Mason's Rare & Used Bookstore.  I'm from cheerfully handing over my library card and/or my hard-earned allowance for the privilege of taking home all the books I could carry from each place.  I'm from losing myself for hours just browsing the shelves.  From sitting blissfully in Mason's, plopped down on the floor and propped up against the books, just checking to see what treasures I could find hidden on the shelves this week. I'm from going there with my friend Nikki and talking about how, if we had the money, we'd by the place from Mr. Mason.  I'm from thinking the best gift for most of my friends is a good book.

I'm from friends.  I'm from my first friend Nate--who I met when his mom was taking him to the park and my mom was taking me to the park.  And we were four years old.  And if you ever meet him and he tells the story, be warned: we get younger every time he tells it.  But that's one of the reasons I love him. I'm from friendly competition from him all through school. I'm from my first best friend Mistie who was every bit as much the tom-boy as I and more.  I'm from sleepovers at Mistie's and the slip and slide down her hill and heading over to Charley Creek to wade and look for crawdads.  I'm from my best, best friend Paula.  I'm from hating each other on sight and being sure that each was "too stuck up for" the other to finding the sister of my heart.  I'm from playing at being twins and being archeologists to bike riding across town to see each other to enduring separation and heartache and being reunited again.  I'm from it doesn't matter how far apart we are now and how little we see each other we're still t'hy'la and we know what that means.  I'm from my friend Nikki.  I'm from being so very alike in so many ways and so very different in so many others and it not mattering one bit--we'll always be friends.  I'm from sharing those experiences in high school College-bound English and trying to outdo each other on what ridiculous metaphor we could find in The Old Man and the Sea (and will Ms. Troop write that one on the board?).  I'm from doing Siddhartha together and making up that awesome poem. And, more recently, I'm from Richard who tells it like it is.  I'm from support when I was crumbling and straight, unpleasant truths; from shaking it up when it needed shaking and making me face things I'd rather not have faced.  I'm from "going off the cliff like Wile E Coyote" and being willing to take risks in the name of friendship.

I'm from being who you are...whatever that means...and accepting it.  And accepting others.  I'm from accepting the diversity that is so evidently part of the plan of life here on earth.  From getting over our petty little preconceived notions and prejudices and realizing how much good there is in all of us.  I'm from getting to the ideal of Star Trek--appreciating the "Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations."  I'm from working on being the best me and expecting the best of others and looking for it....and realizing that I'm not going to be perfect at that yet and I shouldn't expect others to be perfect either.  I'm still working on that...but let's all keep trying.  Shall we?

**********************************************

The idea for me to do this post came from Adam over at Roof Beam Reader who got the idea from Jillian’s “I’m From” over at A Room of One’s Own.  As Adam tell us: Jillian explains where she found it, and where the person from whom she found it, found it, etc. It's a nice little "Who I Am" post that I'd like to help keep going.  Let me know if you do it too.  I'd like to know a little bit more about where you're from.....

Friday Memes

Book Beginnings on Friday is a bookish meme now sponsored by Rose City Reader (who originally inspired the meme). Here's what you do: Share the first line (or two) of the book you are currently reading on your blog or in the comments section. Include the title and author so we know what you're reading. Then, if you are so moved, let us know what your first impressions were based on that first line and if you did or did not like that sentence. Link up each week at Gilion's place.

Here's mine from The Nine Wrong Answers by John Dickson Carr:

When he heard those odd words through the open transom, Dawson sat up straight in his chair.

The Friday 56 is a bookish meme sponsored by Freda's Voice. It is really easy to participate. Just grab a book, any book, and turn to page 56. Find a sentence that grabs you and post it.

Here's mine from The Nine Wrong Answers by John Dickson Carr:

"I won't sleep," persisted Marjorie.  "I won't even doze. I'm afraid to wake up and find you're not here."

Fatal Induction: Review

Bernadette Pajer has done it again.  In Fatal Induction, she has once more swept us back in time to the Seattle of 1901.  And she does it with such deft simplicity that we don't even feel the whoosh of the years as we travel back in time. Her details are perfect and there is no trouble at all in believing that we are walking the streets of turn-of-the-century Seattle with Professor Benjamin Bradshaw. The believability doesn't stop with the time and the setting.  Her characters are becoming more and more real--and this is just the second book in her supremely enjoyable historical mystery series.  

Ben Bradshaw is a delightful character.  He is the absorbed, somewhat absent-minded professor who is also passionately devoted to his son and very loyal to his friends.  He can't resist helping someone who's in trouble.  And when a peddler's wagon is abandoned behind his house and it becomes apparent that the peddler's daughter Emily disappeared after witnessing her father's murder, Bradshaw cannot leave the mystery alone.  He is willing to search for the girl anywhere--including the far from savory world of bars, dance halls, and brothels.  His investigations cause his friends to worry for his safety and he eventually steps on enough toes that he receives a threatening note.  But his sense of justice and concern for the girl won't rest until her father's killer is caught and the girl is safe.

Ben is also an inventor and while the mystery is swirling he is at work on a contest entry for a device that will deliver the music from the Seattle Grand Theater by phone to Seattle homes.  It occurs to him that not only does he have a contest winner on his hands, but that it could also be adapted to help trap the villain.  Devoting hours in his workshop, he puts his health at risk as he tries to complete the device to catch the killer.  But will he be in time to save Emily?

This exciting installment in the Bradshaw mysteries not only gives us more of his character, but we get to know Mrs. Prouty, the housekeeper, and his son, Justin, better.  Justin proves himself to be his father's son when it comes to compassion--hiding the girl for a while....right under his father's and Mrs. Prouty's noses.  It was also enjoyable to see the friendship between Bradshaw and Detective O'Brien grow and be tested.  It gives a very authentic feel to the story.  I do have to admit to being just a little bit frustrated with Bradshaw and his feelings for Missouri.  Although I do understand his reluctance, I just want to give him a giant shove and say, "Get on with it, already!"

All-in-all, a very satisfying historical mystery. I have fallen in love with this series and look forward with great anticipation to the next installment.  Four stars.

*Note: I won my copy of this book in a contest sponsored by the author.  The review, however, is entirely my own idea--complete with my honest opinion--and I have received no compensation for either the book or the review.

Happy 4th of July! And I'm Guest-Posting....

Happy 4th of July everyone!  Hope you all have a safe and happy holiday--full of fun and family and good memories for the future.  And most importantly: appreciating our freedom and remembering those who have it made that freedom possible--from our founding fathers (and mothers!) to the armed forces serving today.

And, as a special 4th of July treat...if you're looking for me today, I'm hanging out over at Wordsmithonia.  Ryan asked me to do a guest post on my favorite fictional character.  Hop on over to see who I picked.

It's Tuesday, Where Are You?

Once upon a time, raidergirl3 hosted this meme every Tuesday.  I really enjoyed participating. Then it disappeared, but she's going to try and run it over the summer. The idea is just a way to share what you are reading, by setting. You can answer in the comments on the It's Tuesday, Where Are You post (click, click, click), you can make your own post on your blog, what ever you like!

This Tuesday, I am in Seattle, Washington.  The year is 1901 and I'm following Professor Bradshaw around as he tries to find a young girl who has witnessed a murder.  We travel from the university where he works to a local theatre to the "red light" district of turn-of-the-century Seattle.  Exciting times!

Teaser Tuesdays

MizB of Should Be Reading hosts Teaser Tuesdays. Anyone can play along. Just do the following:

*Grab your current read.*Open to a random page.
*Share two "teaser" sentences from somewhere on that page.

*BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! You don't want to ruin the book for others.

*Share the title and author too, so other TT participants can add it to their TBR lists if they like your teaser.

Here's mine from Fatal Induction by Bernadette Pajer (p. 123):

Bradshaw especially didn't like the use of the word "experiment" in regard to social conditions. Experiments included of necessity, expendable components. Failure was a precursor to success. When the components were human, who had the audacity to use, lose them, toss them away?

The 39 Steps: Review

The 39 Steps by John Buchan is one of the fastest-moving, quickest reads I've had in a long time.  It starts out with a bored man and whizzes that man and the reader along through one adventure after another until we reach the grand finale.  Is it probable?  Is it really likely that so many people would take our hero, Richard Hannay, on faith and trust him implicitly on the spot?  Do we think the "permanent secretary to the Foreign Office" and a lead Scotland Yard man would really let an adventurer and an amateur suddenly direct operations at the denouement?  Probably not in the real world.  But Buchan writes such a good yarn that we're willing to suspend our disbelief and go along with it all.

Hannay has returned to England from the colonies with memories of adventures and enough gold to line his bank account and keep him for a good while.  It isn't long before he finds the home country to be a bit tame for his taste.  He decides to give London one more day and if nothing in particular happens, then he'll be off again.  Well, you know what they say: Be careful what you wish for...

Hannay's upstairs neighbor approaches him that night with a story so bizarre, Hannay immediately believes it.  Scudder has discovered a plot that will rock the European world--involving treacherous Germans and assassination plots and he's quite sure that the baddies are on to him.... So he's rustled up a dead body and left it in his place (being sure to make it look like a shooting [disfiguring] suicide) and now he wants Hannay to help hide him for three weeks or so.  Just until the big spy show starts.  He's decided to trust Hannay becasue "I've been watching you and I reckon you're a cool customer.  I reckon, too, that you're an honest man, and not afraid of playing a bold hand."  Scudder won't be the last one to look Hannay over and decide he's an honest chap.  

Hannay agrees and Scudder assumes the persona of a British officer in need of a rest.  Our hero's good will is rewarded by coming home one evening to find Scudder dead--"skewered to the floor."  The place has been ransacked and it's obvious that someone was looking for the little black notebook where Scudder kept all his secrets.  Hannay figures that A.  The baddies will assume that Scudder told him all and B. The police will assume that he killed his guest. So, our hero decides to get while the getting is good--conveniently finding the black notebook while he's gathering up supplies to take with him.  

Beginning with an impersonation of the milkman, Hannay makes his way from London to the Scottish countryside and back to London again--impersonating all sorts of folks along the way (a born actor as well as adventurer) and somehow always coming across folks who are near enough his size to borrow clothes left and right.  He also manages to decipher Scudder's notebook--which is in code, of course--and further decipher what is meant by the "thirty-nine steps" as well as see through the disguises of the opposition.  All while the Foreign Office johnnies sit back and admire.  [I did mention that this was improbable....]  They let him direct operations to lay a trap for the bad guys and Hannay is right in the thick of things as our story wraps up.

As improbable as the story is, it's a pretty darn good tale.  Lots of action--from car and airplane chases, to impersonations, to a capture and an escape. Hannay trundling across country by train and car and bicycle...and even on hands and knees.  Hiding in thorn thickets and dovecotes.  Blowing up store rooms.  And it's all good clean fun in a good old-fashioned thriller.  Three and a half stars--almost four.

 

Then I got a corpse--you can always get a body in London if you know where to go for it. [Scudder] (p. 8)

I am an ordinary sort of fellow, not braver than other people, but I hate to see a good man downed, and that long knife would not be the end of Scudder if I could play the game in his place. (p. 16)

...I started my new life in an atmosphere of protest against authority.  I reminded myself that a week ago I had been finding the world dull. (p. 21)

I remembered an old scout in Rhodesia, who had done many things in his day, telling me that the secret of playing a part was to think yourself into it. You could never keep it up, he said, unless you could manage to convince yourself that you were it. (p. 54)

A fool tries to look different; a clever man looks the same and is different. (p. 111)

My copy = no dust jacket

It's Monday! What Are You Reading?

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? is a bookish meme hosted by Book Journey. It's where we gather to share what we have read this past week and what we plan to read this week. It's a great way to network with other bloggers, see some wonderful blogs, and put new titles on your reading list. So hop on over via the link above and join in...and leave a comment here so I can check out what you are reading.

I was on vacation last week, so this is two week's worth.

Books Read (click on titles for review):

O' Artful Death by Sarah Stewart Taylor

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare 

And Four to Go  by Rex Stout

 

Not a very good showing for two weeks....but I spent all of last week on vacation, driving with my husband along Route 66.  Acting as navigator doesn't leave much time for reading anything beyond maps and travel guides.  Hopefully, I'll be able to pick up the pace again. 

 

Currently Reading:

 The 39 Steps by John Buchan: Richard Hannay's ennui comes to an abrupt end when a murder is committed in his flat. Only a few days before the dead man had revealed to him an assassination plot which would have terrible consequences for international peace. Fearing the police will see him as the obvious suspect and desperate to escape the killers, Hannay goes on the run in his native Scotland. There, among the wild moors, he needs all his courage and ingenuity to stay one step ahead of his pursuers.

 

Fatal Induction  by Bernadette Pajer: The race to win an electrical competition incites Professor Benjamin Bradshaw's obsession for invention. The contest winner's telephonic system will deliver music of the Seattle Grand Theater to homes throughout the city, and Bradshaw is confident he can win. But he is diverted by a peddler and a child gone missing. When Bradshaw discovers that the peddler's child may have witnessed a murder, he follows her trail, which takes him to the Seattle waterfront and into the seedy underworld of bars and brothels. Frustrated by the police department's apathy and caught between power struggles, he doesn't know whom to trust. Each step of his investigation entangles him deeper in crime and corruption until he realizes that, to save the peddler's child, he must transform his contest entry into a trap to catch a killer.

 

Books that spark my interest:

North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell 

Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen

The Nine Wrong Answers by John Dickson Carr

The Fifth Man by Manning Coles

 

Crime Fiction Alphabet: Letter G (with a nod to Letter F)

I have signed up for a second year of The Alphabet in Crime Fiction, a community meme sponsored by Mysteries in Paradise. Each week she'll be expecting participants to produce a post featuring a mystery/crime novel or novelist related to that week's letter. 

Kerrie has kept us moving right along on our criminal journey and we've already made it to the letter "G."  Last week, I took a little journey of my own for a Route 66 tour and so I missed the letter "F."  I'm going to make up for that in this week's post. 

G is for Golden.  As in The Golden Scorpion by Sax Rohmer.  This story, like most of Rohmer's pulp fiction novels, features a popular theme for the time period (and one that politically correct folk will find most reprehensible today)--that of the Yellow Peril.  As my review mentions, Rohmer traded heavily on Western fears of the "inscrutable" Chinese to create various super-villains--of which the so-called "Golden Scorpion" was one.  He produced over 25 novels and short story collections that used this theme and many of his other works ran true to form with other super-villains who range from sheiks to Islamic fanatics--mysterious, non-Britishers all. 

In addition to the Scorpion, I have also read The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu (aka The Mystery of Dr. Fu-Manchu) [I told you I'd catch us up on "F"].  And, although Scorpion was published in 1919--six years after this first Dr. Fu-Manch adventure, it reads like a trial-run for the Fu-Manchu stories.  Lots of intrigue, cliffhanging adventures, mysterious & beautiful woman getting tangled up with our narrator, brilliant men of science (and other fields) dying right and left....and, behind it all, the evil of the Orient.

As long as the reader is prepared for the blatant racism of another era and willing to take it for what it is, these stories are great fun in small doses.  I wouldn't want to read several in a row (and I took a substantial break between these two), but they could be an interesting guilty indulgence now and again.

And Four to Go: Review

And Four to Go by Rex Stout showcases Stout's ability to master that difficulty medium, the mystery short story.  Even the best writers sometimes have difficulty creating a successful whodunit in the shortened form.  It's a challenge to give enough character development and plot detail to set up the mystery, and it's especially difficult if the author is going to try to play fair with the clues.  These four stories show that not only could Stout give the reader brilliant novel-length mysteries, he could do just as well in just a thousand words.  Three of the stories revolve around holiday themes....and the fourth could be considered an early, yet deadly April Fool.

"Christmas Party," the first of the collection, was the only story I was familiar with.  But it had been long enough since I first read it that Stout was still able to pull the wool over my eyes.  Nero Wolfe has a problem...well, several.  He hates to leave the comfort of his brownstone, but if he must then he wants Archie at the wheel to take him where he needs to go.  And he needs to go see a man about some orchids--one of the few things that will move him from his routine.  But--Archie informs him that it's his day off and he already has plans.  Firm plans.  Wolfe isn't used to taking no for an answer and forces the issue...which causes Archie to play his trump card: a marriage license made out in the name of Archie and his current lady-friend.  You see, Archie's getting married and the plans involve an announcement of the happy event at a Christmas Party.  Wolfe must let Archie go and heads off to see his orchid man with an "untrustworthy" chauffeur at the wheel.  Archie heads to the party where a man will die and it looks like Santa Claus is the culprit.

"Easter Parade": Wolfe and his passion for orchids again take center stage.  This time the great detective is lusting after a perfectly pink Vanda orchid.  It is rumored that Millard Bynoe has managed what Wolfe has been unable to do despite years of hybrid attempts. Bynoe refuses to admit that he has such an orchid, although the rumors say he will be displaying it at the next year's International Flower Show.  Wolfe has to be sure about the plant and doesn't want to wait that long.  The rumor mill has also said that Bynoe's wife will be wearing a spray from the Vanda on Easter.  So, he gets Archie to hire a thief to steal the pink petals and sends Archie along with a camera to capture the orchid on film in case the attempt fails.  All is going well--Archie is snapping away and Tabby, his pet thief, is moving in for the snatch when Mrs. Bynoe suddenly collapses at the Easter Parade.  Tabby, who doesn't want to give up a hundred dollars, rushes in, grabs the flowers, and he and Archie taxi back to the brownstone.  When reports come through that Mrs. Bynoe has died, Wolfe must solve the murder before the police get too interested in the thievery.

"Fourth of July Picnic" once again sees Wolfe venturing out from the brownstone's safe haven.  This time he has been flattered and bargained into giving a speech at the United Restaurant Workers of America's annual 4th of July Picnic.  Philip Holt, the director, has promised to stop trying to steal Fritz from Wolfe's kitchen if the detective will do the speech.  While Wolfe and Archie wait for the detective's moment of glory on stage, someone takes advantage of Holt's sudden bout of illness to stab the man while he rests in a tent. No wonder Wolfe thinks it's unsafe to leave home.

"Murder Is No Joke": Although it's fall in New York, it seems like it must be April Fool's Day when a murderer tries to pull a joke on Nero Wolfe.  It starts with Flora Gallant, sister of the fashion designer, Alec Gallant, who wants to hire Wolfe to stop a blackmailer.  She's convinced that an unsavory woman has some sort of hold on her brother and she wants Wolfe to find a way to put a stop to it.  Before Wolfe can even begin to put his intellect to work on the problem, the alleged blackmailer has been killed--apparently while on the phone with Wolfe and Archie!  The detective isn't interested in the murder until a few events make him suspect that a killer is trying on a deadly joke at Wolfe's expense.  And we'll have none of that.

All of these short stories are very good and quite enjoyable.  I particularly like the way the last two use a bit of the Ellery Queen method of interaction with the reader.  There are points in each of them where Archie turns to the reader and says, "There you go...you've got the clues.  Can you figure it out?"  Just like the challenge to the reader in the older EQ stories.  I love that moment....not that I usually can do it, but I think it's a nifty little hook.  Four stars for a nice collection.

Quotes:

To drink champagne with a blonde at one elbow and a brunette at the other gives a man a sense of well-being... ("Christmas Party" p. 10)

It's amazing what lengths a man will go to for envy. ("Easter Parade" p. 74)

No orchid ever called a genius a slimy little ego in a big gob of fat.  I remarked on that too, but to myself. ("Murder Is No Joke" p. 181)

Best of Crime Fiction 2012 (So Far)

During 2012 Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise has been collecting readers' Picks of the Month for our best mystery read each month but, as she points out, these lists don't always include all our best reads.  She's now calling for a mid-year Top Ten list....Our ten favorite mystery reads so far in 2012.  Here we go:

1. The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (the only 5-star winner so far) [1889]

2. A Spark of Death by Bernadette Pajer [2011]

3. Champagne for One by Rex Stout [1958]

4. The So Blue Marble by Dorothy B Hughes [1940]

5. A Good Death by Elizabeth Ironside [2000]

6. The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett [1930]

7. The Bat by Mary Roberts Rinehart [1932]

8. The Morning After Death by Nicholas Blake [1966]

9. Such Friends Are Dangerous by Walter Tyrer [1954]

10. Something to Kill For by Susan Holtzer [1994]

All but Hound are 4-star winners, as are my honorable mentions (below).  When making distinctions for top ten versus honorable mention, I made sure to list all of the 4-star winners which were by authors new to me.  For authors who were old friends....well, that was arbitrary.  Any of those listed below could easily be a top ten pick.

Honorable mention:

The Problem of the Green Capsule by John Dickson Carr [1939]

The Yellow Room by Mary Roberts Rinehart [1945]

Murder at the Stork Club by Vera Caspary [1945/6--date unclear]

Swan Song by Edmund Crispin [1947]

So Many Steps to Death by Agatha Christie [1954]

June Wrapup & Pick of the Month

I am continuing my monthly statistic-gathering and combining that wrap-up post with Kerrie's Crime Fiction Pick of the Month over at Mysteries in Paradise.

 Image Source

My June totals are down, making for three months in a row--I'm getting a little worried. And Goodreads says I'm actually three books behind.  Better get busy.  Here we go on the totals...

Total Books Read: 12
Total Pages:  2,696
Percentage by Female Authors:  33%
Percentage by US Authors:  67%
Percentage by non-US/non-British Authors:  8%
Percentage Mystery: 58%
Percentage Fiction: 92%
Percentage written 2000+: 25%
Percentage of Rereads: 8%
Percentage Read for Challenges: 100% {It's easy to have every book count for a challenge when you sign up for as many as I do.}  
Number of Challenges fulfilled so far: 9 (27%)



AND, as mentioned above, Kerrie is sponsoring a meme for those of us who track our reading. What she's looking for is our Top Mystery Read for each month.  This month I read 7 books that count as mysteries and, of those, I handed out only one four-star rating.  So, this month's lucky winner is Something to Kill For by Susan Holtzer, an engaging cozy debut in a series starring Anneke Haagen.  This one gives us death by garage sale.