Gift from Cari. Stayed up too late last night flipping through it.

I've been reading this in small bits for the last few weeks. Like many essay compilations, some are much better than others. And I wish that some were more in depth. Most books recieved one page excerpt, a tiny column with background/synopsis (some very interesting info there) and then the "famous person's" essay. All is very brief, but gets right to the heart of the matter.
The range of people was fascinating, though most of my favorites were by writers.
Definitely recommended--and have probably added more than a few books to my to-read list. I was also amazed at how many books follow my kidlit history ideas.

Loved, loved, loved--the ultimate historical fantasy, except it's not a fantasy.
A young woman discovers a diary in a dumpster (among a few other fabulous finds). As a NYT reporter, she does have a few connections most of us don't have and a few years later, a PI tracks down the diary's author. And then we get the story of Florence Wolfson.
Florence, writing in the late 1920s and 1930s, had an adventurous teen hood and took all kinds of chances--along with soaking up art and literature and museums. In some ways, this long, middle chunk of the book is tasty fluff--not a lot of depth, but still enjoyable.
What put this book to 4 stars for me was the last quarter, where Koppel describes finding and meeting Florence. What are the odds? (Florence was 90 when Koppel found her!) Florence's reaction to seeing the long forgotten diary was pretty amazing.
A very satisfying glimpse into one woman's life during one of my favorite time periods. Highly recommended.

Finally, I know I'm not alone! At least regarding my soapbox about history museums not being kid-friendly. . .
A collection of essays from educators, exhibit designers and the like who are thinking about kids when they think about exhibits. Some great data on why we should be thinking about kids at history museums (and that there's a lot more that little ones understand than we give credit). A book that I can share with co-workers as we remake the museum.

Like all essay collections, some essays are better than others. But I am so, so, so glad that this book exists. I've already put it to use and will be referring to it often.

(And how nerdy is it of me to be super excited that quite a few of the authors will be at a Texas conference this fall? Sigh. I love my job.)

I wish more people knew about Sarah Horton Cockrell. By her husband's side, she helped build Dallas. And when he died, she did even more, always respectful of the limitations of the 19th century and yet breaking all the rules. She built the first bridge crossing the Trinity River, ran the ferry, built the second bridge, ran a flour mill, owned most of downtown, built the first hotel and then rebuilt. The list goes on--all of this as a widow raising four children.
This book is an interesting hybrid, almost a fictionalized biography. Castleberry chose to write this, the only full-length biography, of Cockrell as a series of letters by her to various family members. At first, it really seemed to work--it was a way for Castleberry to get inside Cockrell's head. And yet. . .
Some of the letters were repetitious. Many, many paragraphs spent with Castleberry providing context for Cockrell's era. Lots and lots of context that didn't feel natural at all. There was a lot of Dallas name-dropping too (how many street names can you find in the text?), and while it makes sense that she would know these people, it also felt forced.
I know Cockrell left behind plenty of primary sources, and it would have been nice to hear some of her story in her own words. As a historian, I was extremely frustrated with trying to tease out information for a speech I gave a few weeks ago that included Cockrell. My wish is for a more traditional biography or a more graceful fictionalization.
Recommended highly for my Texas friends or anyone interested in women's history, just for the sake of learning more about Sarah.

Carrie Chapman Catt is one of those suffrage leaders you just don't hear about, which is flat wrong. She should be right up there with Susan B., Elizabeth and Alice. Levin's biography, aimed at middle grade students, is a great introduction for readers of all ages. He's succint, but still takes time to explain the complex issues that surround the suffrage movement.
This book could benefit from a slightly better graphic design (some of the photos were low-resoulution) and some recommendations for further reading. But for a neglected heroine, it's a fine place to start.

This is a collection of essays and memoirs by Tan that I picked up at a book exchange. Many of these essays had been published previously in other places or were parts of speeches. Which meant there was a lot of repetition between essays. Maybe an editor could have cleaned things up a bit? Not sure--I liked it, but there were certain aspects of Tan's life that I got tired of reading about.

Haven't picked this up in weeks so perhaps it's time to abandon it.
Started due to a professiona book club/blog thing, but that conversation ended weeks ago. Liked the concept, but was unable to get into it.

Why oh why doesn't Goodreads have an official "I Gave Up" shelf?

For the museum's book club. . .
Romo takes a slightly different approach to local history--he's looking at the geography of a city to discover the layers of history. And in a town like El Paso, which is literally on top of the border, well, geography means a lot.

While reading this book, I found myself wishing I knew a bit more about the Mexican Revolution and Pancho Villa. This isn't to say Romo didn't do a good job of setting the stage, just that I think I would have gotten more out of it if I was already familiar with the story. But he does an excellent job of showing the layers within the story--tales of a spiritualist healer/spark for revolution, the musicians, the journalists, the filmmakers. Really good stuff.

The most startling was the chapter on crossing the border---and the gasoline baths required for anyone coming in to El Paso. Horrifying stuff.

Lots of great pictures and documents. Kudos for this very different kind of Texas history. It will be interesting to see what the conversation will be on Tuesday, especially since most of the book club ladies are of a very different generation.

Some wonderful snarky lines. My favorite: "The whole thing is simply this: is it possible to be a Reckless Libertine without spending a great deal of money?"

These are not characters to like, but characters to make you think. All the same, it's not one of my favorite persephone titles.