A book I want to press into the hands of all my museum colleagues and say "Read this before you make any more plans about the future of your museum."
I've been reading Nina's blog (www.museumtwo.blogspot.com) for years now, so her big ideas--ways to help visitors engage with the museum, ways for museums and visitors to work together and talk--weren't new to me. But it was revelation to have all those ideas in one spot.
This is one of those books I read with a pencil in hand--underlining key points and good ideas, as well as jotting notes in the margin for ways to apply these ideas to my museum.
For non-museum readers, I would also recommend this book to anyone trying to build a community. It's really all about making certain places, whether it's a library or a museum or a coffeeshop, an integral part of people's lives.
Probably one of the best books on museum theory and practice I've ever read. This is one where I'm ready to start applying some of the ideas tomorrow. Look out!

The autobiographical bits confirmed what I had already guessed about Enright--we would have been really good friends. Though I wanted more biography, it was certainly enough for me to see some of the ways she used her own life to build her fabulous novels.

The short stories were a mixed bag. Some I liked, some I didn't. But less than fabulous Enright is still better than a lot of other stuff out there.

Thanks to Melody for loaning me her copy.

Wow.
The story of Harrison Shepherd, a boy with a mother constantly chasing the next man. He is forced to make a way for himself--and becomes one of the servants in Diego Rivera's home--plaster mixer, cook, typist. Oh, and don't forget the others that were in Rivera's home during the 1930s--wife Frida Kahlo and friend Leo Trotsky.
Shepherd returns to the US and becomes a writer, living in Asheville. It's there we meet one of my favorite characters in the book--Violet Brown, his Gal Friday/secretary extraordinaire. The Red Scare destroys his career.
The richness of the language just washes over the reader. It twists and turns, but does so naturally. Unlike some of those books where a fictional character interacts with history, this felt natural and real. My historical knowledge of this era is limited, but it all rang true. And even though I'm about to go check out some of the real history behind this book, I don't even care how right Kingsolver was.
It's an amazing, thoughtful, beautiful book. Highly, highly recommended.

Checked out because it's written by Laski (a favorite Persephone author) and includes some tidbits about Frances Hodgson Burnett.
I only read the intro, conclusion and section on Burnett as I had no interest in the other two women.
Written in 1950, Laski is looking back at the golden age of children's literature. A few interesting conclusions, but I was hoping for a bit more biography and less critical analysis. Or perhaps some more linking between the three authors in the analysis.
Not bad, but not great.

Re-read for the first time in many, many years.
This book should only be read at the very end of winter or during spring. I think overall, I prefer Little Princess but this must be one of the best garden books ever. Definitely a new appreciation now that I'm trying to bring some plants back in my own yard.

One of those very quiet books, though set in a tumultuous time. It's Ireland in 1920, after the Great War but right smack dab in the middle of the "troubles." I think I would have enjoyed this book much more if I knew more about Irish history, but it also wasn't quite a good enough book to make me want to go read up on Irish history.
It's a drawing room drama. People visit, soldiers are flirted with, plans for the future are made and then ruined. Parts of it are hysterical, but I also found myself rereading sentences occasionally. I also discovered this is not a book to be read before bed, but one for when you're fully awake.
I think this is one of those books you have to be in the mood for, and for the first half of the book, I just wasn't.

Here's the thing: When I read a food/cooking memoir, I usually want to share a meal with the author.

I have no desire to share a meal with Julie Powell. And I just couldn't quite get over that.

Really enjoyed this family story, set in fall in a college town. The kids are kids I've known, and their love of football almost makes me like football.
And wouldn't it be fun if Oliver Melendy and Dumpling spent some time together?

I'm a sucker for books about books, and this is a pure delight. If I had realized earlier that it's by the same author as History Boys, I would have pushed it higher on the to-read pile.

All sorts of memorable sentences and things to think about. Highly recommended.

Coming off of Julie and Julia, this book was almost a shock to the senses. It's what a food memoir/blog story/coming of age tale should be--and reminds me again of why Julie and Julia was so diasppointing.

I feel like it's cliche to use food words in a review of a foodie book, but the words "gobbled" and "devoured" keep springing to mind. Molly's writing is so natural and her voice so clear--I felt like I could taste those recipes with her, and I can't wait to try a few.

Tragically, this is a library book, so I will be photocopying a few recipes until I purchase a copy for the cookbook shelf. Yum!