Author Lisa Lutz has created a winning new private eye in Isabel “Izzy” Spellman, the 28-year-old daughter with a checkered past in a family that thinks it’s normal, although they’re almost all private eyes who have no respect for privacy. Izzy and Rae, her much younger sister, have the business in their blood–Rae has to be reined in from her recreational tailing and shadowing while she’s still in elementary school. Izzy’s older brother David escapes the family business and become a high-powered lawyer, but can’t avoid occasional professional and personal contact with his family, who — sneaky and intensely curious — are very good at what they do.
Recorded Books narrator Christina Moore does a fantastic job with Izzy’s detailing of her life story thus far, including Rae’s troubling disappearance, Uncle Ray’s drinking benders, Izzy’s string of ex-boyfriends, and the cold case that is meant to be Izzy’s final investigation.
First in series of three so far, The Spellman Files will be a hit with Janet Evanovich readers.
Watch a video interview with author Lisa Lutz from Simon & Schuster, publisher of the abridged audio edition.
Check availability of this title in Old Colony Library Network catalog here: http://navigator.ocln.org/?hreciid=%7clibrary%2fmarc%2focln-dynix%7c1148914
>Gary on the Booklist Book Group blog suggests Peace by Richard Bausch might be a title that would appeal to men as well as women in a book group. The book just won the W. Y. Boyd Literary Award for Excellence in Military Fiction for 2009.
>Two women — one nearing the end of life and one whose child was stillborn — write about death. These two moving memoirs are as clearsighted and honest as Joan Didion’s A Year of Magical Thinking.
Diana Athill, a book editor for fifty years and author of two other memoirs, writes about her outlook on life from the vantage point of age 89.
All through my sixties I felt I was still within hailing distance of middle age, not safe on its shores, perhaps, but navigating its coastal waters. My seventieth birthday failed to change this because I managed scarcely to notice it, but my seventy-first did change it. Being “over seventy” is being old; suddenly I was aground on that fact and saw that the time had come to size it up. (Somewhere Towards the End, p. 13)
Former librarian Elizabeth McCracken is the author of a collection of short stories and two novels, The Giant’s House and Niagara Falls All Over Again. She and her husband were living and writing in France during her first pregnancy which had been gloriously trouble-free until the very end; their child, a boy, died before he could be born.
I don’t want to wear my heart on my sleeve or put it away in cold storage. I don’t want to fetishize, I don’t want to repress, I want his death to be what it is: a fact. Something that people know without me having to explain it. I don’t feel the need to tell my story to everyone, but when people ask, Is this your first child? I can’t bear any of the possible answers.
I’m not ready for my first child to fade into history. (An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination, p. 15)