Last time, we talked about books for the kids to read this summer.  My plan, when I have fewer demanding teeny-sized children, is to have all of us doing our reading together, at the same time, the house quiet except for the turning of pages.  Blissful little fantasy, yes?  I’m pretending it wouldn’t be broken by two of the children making each other laugh giddily and another child springing up saying “I JUST NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!!” and another child asking “What does this word say?  What does THIS word say?  What does THIS word say?”

What I look for in a book for myself is something light enough for me to manage it on half-power and in 5-minute reading sessions, but not so light I gag and roll my eyes and feel like the writer thinks women are only interested in brand-name shoes, exceptionally good-looking men who are also tender and selfless, and the “because I deserve to spoil myself!” concept.  I don’t want to see the whole plot stretching before me by the end of the first chapter, and I don’t want a love interest so perfect he’s clearly fake.  I don’t want a lead female character who spends too many paragraphs discussing her weight/shoes, and I don’t want her to be in the fashion/publishing industry because ENOUGH ALREADY with those.

So, fine, I realize I sound a little picky.  I’m not as picky as all that—but a book shouldn’t have more than one or two strikes.  If the lead female character works for a fashion magazine (sigh), and we have to hear about the brands of everything she wears (roll eyes), but the plot is interesting and unexpected, that’s okay.  If the love interest is impossibly handsome/sensitive (gag), but the lead female character is multi-layered and pleasing to read about, that’s okay.  If the plot is utterly predictable (yawn), but approached in a way that makes it seem new and fresh, that’s okay.  Here are a few books that have recently pleased me:

The Bright Side of Disaster (Katherine Center) is not only completely predictable, but also includes a love interest who is so perfect I don’t even like him let alone believe in him.  But the story is written in a pleasing way and includes a different angle:  a woman left by her fiance the day before she goes into labor.  I didn’t think I’d want to read the book, but I did—and I really liked it.

I recommend just about any Maeve Binchy book for satisfying, quality reading; Whitethorn Woods is the most recent.  What I like about Maeve Binchy is that she sets up a difficult problem, then gradually, carefully unravels it, usually by zooming in on the situation of one character at a time.  After awhile you start noticing how the characters’ situations connect, and awhile later the common solution emerges.

If you don’t like cussing, this may not be your style.  Love and Other Near-Death Experiences (Mil Millington) contains a great deal of bad language indeed—but mostly used amusingly rather than violently.  Interesting plot:  because of a trivial decision, a man avoids being in a bar that burns down, killing everyone inside.  And so now he’s targeted by a religious group that feels he has thwarted God’s plan for him and needs to be killed manually.  That doesn’t sound very funny, does it?  But it’s so, so funny.

Lost and Found (Carolyn Parkhurst) is a surprisingly moving novel about the lives of a bunch of TV reality-game-show contestants.  One set is a mother-daughter pair; the daughter has recently told the mother an enormous secret.  Another set is a married couple; each is gay, but is trying a “you can learn to be straight” program.  We get so into their lives, it’s hard to know who to root for in the game—and it’s also neat to hear inside-scoop stuff about how reality shows are filmed.

While Fun Home (Alison Bechdel) is not exactly lightweight (a parent is gay! and killed!), the graphic-novel format and quietly-stated drama make it a good read even on half a night’s sleep.  And it turns out I like picture books for myself, as well as for the kids.