Facebook Twitter Instagram

Trisha Ping

FictionHistorical FictionDebut Fiction

No such thing as a fair fight

Review by Trisha Ping

Fans of authors like Sarah Waters and Michel Faber will thrill to Anna Freeman's debut, The Fair Fight, an exciting historical novel set in the little-known world of women's bare-knuckle boxing.

The year 1800 is approaching in Bristol, and Ruth is growing up with her sister, Dora, in the brothel their mother runs. Beautiful Dora is a sure bet to join the mollies upstairs once she hits her teens (or at least double-digits), but plain Ruth—whom her mother describes as being made of the “ugliest parts of 20 daddies”—helps her mother with the chores. Then one day, two bored customers offer to pay to watch Ruth and Dora fight, and Ruth’s natural ease in the ring sets her on a different path.

But while boxing may appear to offer more agency and freedom than the pursuit of a wealthy benefactor, the reality is not so simple. Mr. Dryer, the same merchant who keeps Dora as his mistress, also holds the reins of Ruth’s career—and in his eyes, both women are assets to be used for his benefit and discarded when they no longer contribute to it.

Dryer takes the same attitude when it comes to his timid wife, Charlotte, the sister of his best friend, Henry, with whom he is engaged in a destructive game of one-upmanship. Frustrated by her narrowly circumscribed life, Charlotte asks Ruth to teach her to box. In these scenes Freeman, who is a poet and lectures in English at Bath Spa University, eloquently and viscerally describes Charlotte’s pleasure in learning to fight back, in discovering the power of her body.

Freeman has a light hand with her characters: Dryer manages to be a villain without ever becoming a caricature, and even the machiavellian Henry engages the reader’s sympathy at times. But gruff yet tenderhearted Ruth is the soul of the story, and her romance with the gallant Tom and unlikely friendship with Charlotte are among The Fair Fight's many pleasures.

The novel’s narration bounces mainly between Charlotte and Ruth, with occasional chapters from the point of view of Henry that remind the reader how little the men of the time understood or even considered the women around them. But in life, as in the ring, being underestimated can be an advantage, and Freeman’s wily and strong-willed women can’t afford to pull punches. This remarkable historical debut goes beyond blood spatter and missing teeth to take a broader look at the limitations of class and gender, encouraging readers to ponder who (if any) among its characters is given a fair fight.

RELATED CONTENT: Read the story behind The Fair Fight.

 

Fans of authors like Sarah Waters and Michel Faber will thrill to Anna Freeman's debut, The Fair Fight, an exciting historical novel set in the little-known world of women's bare-knuckle boxing.

FictionLiterary Fiction

Enthralling family drama in the Minnesota wilderness

Review by Trisha Ping

Rebecca Rasmussen (The Bird Sisters) traces the lasting damage of violence to devastating effect in her second novel, Evergreen, a fairy tale-like chronicle of how one moment’s pain can echo through generations.

When gentle, innocent young Eveline follows her German-born husband, Emil, to a homestead in the wilds of Minnesota after their marriage in 1938, she must learn to care for her family without the comforts of town.

Soon after their son, Hux, is born, Emil is called to the bedside of his dying father in Germany. He instructs Eveline to take Hux and return to her parents in town, but Eveline, who has fallen in love with the freedom and beauty of the wilderness, decides to await his return in their primitive cabin. Human threats prove to be greater than those from nature, however, and a violent visit leads to a fateful decision that shapes the family for decades to come.

Rasmussen was born and raised in the Midwest, and her descriptions of the Minnesota wilderness are poetic in their spare beauty. Nature has an almost mystical draw for the characters in Evergreen, most of whom look to it as a refuge rather than something to conquer. Nature can be cruel, but humans—with their messy emotions and ability to harm even those they love—can be even more devastating. It’s far from an uncommon message, but here it’s delivered with sensitivity and without sentimentality.

With its quiet beauty, deep compassion and strong emotional pull, Evergreen cements Rasmussen’s reputation as one of our most talented new writers.

 

This article was originally published in the August 2014 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Rebecca Rasmussen (The Bird Sisters) traces the lasting damage of violence to devastating effect in her second novel, Evergreen, a fairy tale-like chronicle of how one moment’s pain can echo through generations.
Mystery & SuspenseSuspense

Follow that car

Review by Trisha Ping

Stephen King has been thrilling readers ever since the 1974 publication of Carrie, and it's particularly remarkable that such a long-lived (and prolific) writer can still generate buzz for doing something different. But that’s exactly what’s happening with King’s 51st novel, Mr. Mercedes, which is being billed as his first “hard-boiled detective tale.”

While diehard King fans might question the accuracy of this statement—he’s written two murder mysteries for Hard Case Crime—Mr. Mercedes is the first of King’s novels to star an actual detective. Well, a retired detective, that is. Since his last day at his Midwestern police department several months ago, Bill Hodges has been stuck in a gray world of mild depression, daytime TV and too many snack foods. That changes when a letter arrives from someone who describes himself as “the perk” of Hodges’ most deadly unsolved case. The Mercedes Killer ran over dozens of people waiting in line for a job fair. Eight people died, including an infant—or nine, if you want to count the owner of the stolen Mercedes, who blamed herself for the accident and committed suicide a few months later. Oh, and the killer says he plans to strike again.

With the help of his brainy teenaged neighbor and the victim's bereaved sister, a retired detective embarks on a dangerous investigation.

Instead of sharing the letter with his friends on the force, Hodges decides he’s the man to close this cold case. With the help of his brainy teenaged neighbor and the Mercedes owner’s bereaved sister, he embarks on a dangerous investigation.

Over the course of his career, King has taken steps away from genre with books like 11/23/63, Lisey’s Story and Under the Dome, where his signature touches of horror and magic ride alongside more complex themes. But with Mr. Mercedes, he demonstrates that he can still rock a pure genre novel like nobody’s business. Readers know the identity of the Mercedes Killer is from the start; the considerable suspense of Mr. Mercedes comes from wondering whether Hodges will discover it, too—and whether he will do so in time to save the next innocent target. (Anyone wondering whether King has gone soft will find that doubt assuaged by the number of innocent targets who are struck down in Mr. Mercedes.)

Hodges is a typical King hero: a middle-aged everyman with a good heart, a strong sense of justice and a few pithy catchphrases. He makes a stark contrast to the Mercedes Killer, a sociopath who exhibits a chilling lack of feeling for even those closest to him. While there are no big questions being asked or answered here, Mr. Mercedes is a thrilling example of King’s boundless imagination.

 

Stephen King has been thrilling readers for four decades, ever since the 1974 publication of Carrie. So it’s particularly remarkable that such a long-lived (and prolific) writer can still generate buzz for doing something different. But that’s exactly what’s happening with King’s 51st novel, Mr. Mercedes, which is being billed as his first “hard-boiled detective tale.”

Fiction

Justin Cronin’s action-packed sequel to ‘The Passage’

Review by Trisha Ping

Readers of the 2010 smash hit The Passage have waited more than two long years for the return of Peter, Alicia, Amy and the rest of Justin Cronin's memorable heroes, who have dedicated themselves to ridding the world of the "flyers"—vampires created by a military-engineered virus that has decimated the world's population.

Readers of The Twelve should be warned—that long-awaited update doesn't come right away. Instead, after a welcome refresher on the events of The Passage, delivered in a Biblical tone, we turn the page on a story set right at the time the virus struck, years prior to where The Passage left off. It is a testament to Cronin's talent that, after some initial impatience, the reader is actually sorry to leave Lila (a peripheral character from book one) and her companions and pick up Peter's story, which finds him, Amy and Alicia frustrated in their pursuit of the 12 original vampires. That is not the only leap readers must make in The Twelve, which, like its predecessor, contains myriad storylines that are intricate enough to challenge even the most dedicated of fans, and continues to develop the series' complicated mythology.

Still, the pleasure in a book like this one is the pleasure of seeing how all those storylines eventually fit together, and here Cronin does not disappoint. This is a story full of surprises and subterfuge. The action-packed finale of The Twelve is more satisfying than The Passage's cliff-hanger ending, although there are plenty of loose threads to keep readers eager for book three . . . coming to bookshelves near you in 2014. 

 

Readers of the 2010 smash hit The Passage have waited more than two long years for the return of Peter, Alicia, Amy and the rest of Justin Cronin's memorable heroes, who have dedicated themselves to ridding the world of the "flyers"—vampires created by a military-engineered virus that has decimated the world's population. Readers of The […]
FictionDebut Fiction

Adrift from the civilized world

Review by Trisha Ping

Don’t start The Lifeboat right before bedtime. Charlotte Rogan’s gripping debut won’t let you turn out the light until the last page is turned, and will have you mulling over the questions of survival, sacrifice and responsibility it raises long after that.

Grace Winter has been “married for 10 weeks and a widow for over six” and is on trial for her life when The Lifeboat opens. It seems there are some questions about her actions during the two weeks she spent in a small lifeboat on the Atlantic with 38 other survivors of the sinking of the Empress Alexander. To get the events straight in her own mind, Grace begins an account of the wreck and its aftermath, blending in the story of her courtship with and brief marriage to the wealthy Henry Winter. It gradually becomes clear that this isn’t the first time Grace’s mettle has been tested: Perhaps the steely drive necessary to climb the ranks of Edwardian society is the ultimate survival skill.

Originally, the stunned passengers on Lifeboat 14 continue in the rigidly defined roles of class and gender that they held on the ship. The one seaman on board, Mr. Hardie, takes charge, rationing out the meager stores of food; the men take the oars, the women sit quietly and console one another. But as the days pass, keeping order becomes more of a challenge. Two female passengers ally against Mr. Hardie, questioning his decisions and sowing discontent among the hungry survivors. Pragmatic Grace sees the divisions forming and is determined to be on the winning side. But at what cost?

Survival stories often showcase the beauty of human nature, our ability to rise above circumstances to care for our fellow man. The Lifeboat is not that novel. What Rogan finds under our veneer of civility is pure animal nature, red in tooth and claw—in a way, the sinking of the luxurious Empress Alexandra echoes mankind’s fall from grace. “We were stripped of all decency. I couldn’t see that there was anything good or noble left once food and shelter were taken away,” writes Grace. Her dispassionate narration of harrowing events somehow makes their impact even more powerful.

Though the narrative frame means that Grace’s survival is assured, the suspense of The Lifeboat never lets up, and it is a testament to Rogan’s talent that a novel that so insightfully confronts existential questions is also a complete and utter page-turner. This compelling, smart and resonant work is certain to stand as one of the year’s best debuts.

Don’t start The Lifeboat right before bedtime. Charlotte Rogan’s gripping debut won’t let you turn out the light until the last page is turned, and will have you mulling over the questions of survival, sacrifice and responsibility it raises long after that. Grace Winter has been “married for 10 weeks and a widow for over […]
FictionHorror

11/22/63

Review by Trisha Ping

The buzz on Stephen King’s latest novel, 11/22/63, is that it’s about a man who goes back in time to save JFK. It’s true; that is the mission undertaken by King’s hero, 35-year-old high school teacher Jake Epping. But to a careful reader, it quickly becomes clear that this is actually a novel about falling in love: first with a time period, and then with an awkward, tall librarian named Sadie.

Jake learns about the portal to the past from his friend Al, the owner of the local diner-slash-time-machine. Al had hoped to thwart Lee Harvey Oswald on his own, but had to return to the present when he became ill with lung cancer. (One of the quirks of King’s time-travel is that no matter how long you stay, you only lose two minutes in the present.) So Al boots an unbelieving Jake out through the back door of the diner’s storeroom, into a warm September day in 1958. From the moment Jake steps up to a soda counter and orders a root beer, he is hooked on the past. “It was . . . full. Tasty all the way through,” Jake thinks. Like the apple in the Garden of Eden, the drink has revealed new possibilities. With his 21st-century life off the rails, Jake decides he has nothing to lose by taking up Al’s quest, and he heads to Texas.

In Stephen King’s latest novel, a man goes back in time to prevent the Kennedy Assassination.

Since Jake arrives in the past in 1958, there’s a lot of ground laid before the novel arrives at the titular date of the JFK assassination. Despite the somewhat leisurely pace, the reader is entertained by creepy details about the Oswald family and interludes with 1960s-era spying equipment, which run alongside Jake’s gradual embrace of the small Texas town where he takes a job at the high school. He meets Sadie; he is mothered by the school’s stern-but-soft principal; he directs the school play. As time passes, his 1960s life becomes more real to Jake than his life in the 21st century. Still, as 1963 approaches, he is unable to forget his mission.

Through his depictions of 1950s and ’60s life, it’s clear that King has a deep affection for the time period in which he grew up. Even so, he’s not blind to its problems, portraying the bad smells in the air near factories with no EPA regulations, the racial strife and the poverty. His vision of Dallas is particularly sinister; King compares it to Derry, Maine, his iconic fictional city that just isn’t right—one of several nods to his 1986 novel, It. 

This novel stands out from King’s oeuvre because a villain is not immediately apparent. There’s no Plymouth with a mind of its own (Christine), no killer virus (The Stand)—there’s not even an unbalanced parent (The Shining, Carrie) or crazed fan (Misery). But the adversary in 11/22/63 is perhaps King’s most implacable force yet: history itself. Oswald, who is a lackluster bad guy to say the least, is merely its tool, one of many. History, as Al explains to Jake early on, does not want to be changed—“I felt like a man trying to fight his way out of a nylon stocking. It would give a little, then snap back just as tight as before.”—and the past throws up terrifying obstacles to those who would try. This eerie quality further complicates the typical questions about fate vs. self-determination that time-travel stories raise.

Silence of the Lambs director Jonathan Demme has already optioned 11/22/63 for film. Though perhaps less cinematic than some of King’s other works, this quietly moving and thought-provoking book, with its unexpectedly poignant ending, is a compelling tale.

In Stephen King's latest novel, a man goes back in time to prevent the Kennedy Assassination.
YA FictionYA

A wrenching finale to the year’s biggest trilogy

Review by Trisha Ping

Anyone who has ever loved a series feels equal parts anticipation and worry when cracking the cover of the latest installment. Can the adventures of the characters you’ve been dreaming about for the past year live up to the ones you’ve imagined for them yourself? I don’t think it gives too much away to say that Mockingjay meets readers’ expectations, and then some. This is a fearless finale that brings the big question of the Hunger Games Trilogy—the ethics of using force, be it political, physical or psychological—to the forefront as Katniss and her allies attempt to overthrow President Snow and create a new Panem.

Mockingjay opens in the ruins of District 12, where heroine Katniss Everdeen stands on the ashes of most of her neighbors. Torn with guilt over the destruction of her home and worry over the fate of Peeta, who is still in the hands of President Snow, Katniss knows only a burning desire for revenge. Her family and the rest of the District 12 survivors are safe, if a bit bored, in the well-regulated underground world of District 13, where President Coin has a plan to present Katniss as the face of rebellion: the Mockingjay.

It’s a bleak beginning, but then, a revolution isn’t pretty business, and anyone who has followed Katniss’ adventures so far knows that Suzanne Collins doesn’t spare her characters. This is a series where, just like real life, anything can happen. While readers can trust Collins for an honest resolution to the story, they can’t be sure that their favorite characters will be there to see it. That sense of suspense, along with the innovative plot twists that Collins throws in just when you thought you knew where things were going, keeps the pages turning.

Well, that, and the Gale/Peeta conflict. Who does Katniss choose? No spoilers here, but rest assured that Collins makes the outcome seem both inevitable and right, because it is based on Katniss’ own discoveries about herself.

Those discoveries, like the other victories in Mockingjay, come at a high price. Collins, like Katniss, is a realist above all: The effects of war on civilians and conspirators alike are unflinchingly documented, and the grim tone established in the opening pages dominates. But the book is not without its moments of grace, and the powerful conclusion should leave readers with a better taste in their mouths than the much-maligned endings of other popular series. Haunting and meditative, Mockingjay is a wrenching finale to a trilogy that will be read and discussed for years to come.

Anyone who has ever loved a series feels equal parts anticipation and worry when cracking the cover of the latest installment. Can the adventures of the characters you’ve been dreaming about for the past year live up to the ones you’ve imagined for them yourself? I don’t think it gives too much away to say […]
YA FictionYA

More from the Twilight Saga universe

Review by Trisha Ping

With anticipation for the third film in the Twilight Saga franchise at a fever pitch, author Stephenie Meyer gives readers a look at an intriguing side character in The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner.

Created by a vamp called Riley, Bree is one of the "newborns" who will fight alongside Victoria against the Cullens—but Bree, who was not quite 16 when Riley changed her, and has been a vampire for just three months, doesn't know that. She also doesn't know that her skin sparkles in the sun, that stakes don't actually kill or that her creator is using her and her cohorts as cannon fodder. Though she and another vampire, Diego, uncover some of these truths over the course of the novella, understanding doesn't come in time to avoid her sad fate—which is known to every reader of Eclipse (and if you are reading The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner, you have read Eclipse).

To make up for the predetermined ending, Meyer ups the ante by throwing in a doomed love affair, more vampire trivia (ever wonder what two vampires locking rock-hard lips sounds like?) and a memorable look at Bella and Edward from an outside perspective.

Tough, strong and resilient, Bree is a heroine who deserves a better end. Poignant and full of Meyer's trademark thwarted love, the short but sweet Second Life of Bree Tanner is a gift for fans—exactly as Meyer intended.

With anticipation for the third film in the Twilight Saga franchise at a fever pitch, author Stephenie Meyer gives readers a look at an intriguing side character in The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner. Created by a vamp called Riley, Bree is one of the "newborns" who will fight alongside Victoria against the Cullens—but […]
Mystery & SuspenseMystery

A turning point for Maisie Dobbs

Review by Trisha Ping

Over the course of six novels, a growing number of readers have followed the adventures of Maisie Dobbs, a former nurse turned private investigator in 1930s England. The series’ strength lies in its portrayal of a society turned upside down after the huge losses suffered in World War I and the resulting changes in the class system and the lives of women, who had taken the place of men in the workplace during the war and often had to continue doing so afterwards. Recent installments had become somewhat routine, with little change coming to Maisie’s personal life or monastic Plimco flat—but this seventh outing brings a big payoff, without sacrificing the series’ quiet appeal.

The Mapping of Love and Death finds Maisie facing yet another mystery rooted in the Great War. The remains of Michael Clifton, an American cartographer who leant his skills to the British during the war, have been discovered in a bunker. X-rays show that the young man may not have died with his fellow soldiers when their camp was shelled, and his parents have come to Maisie for answers. Papers found near Michael’s body hint at a love affair with a woman who refers to herself simply as “The English Nurse.” Could she be the key to discovering why someone wanted to kill Michael? Maisie’s search will, as usual, take her back to her past, but this time the journey opens up new paths for the future as she embarks on an unexpected romance and meets with a turning point in her career.

As always, Maisie is an appealing heroine. Strong, intelligent, capable, empathetic—if a bit reserved—she faces threats without flinching and brings healing to her clients. Jacqueline Winspear’s assured writing (she is a Brit who currently lives in California) is as calm and measured as her heroine, and contains subtle touches that give the series its ring of period authenticityThe Mapping of Love and Death will leave Maisie’s many fans eager to see what her next adventure will bring.

RELATED CONTENT
Read an interview with Jacqueline Winspear
Read a review of Messenger of Truth

Over the course of six novels, a growing number of readers have followed the adventures of Maisie Dobbs, a former nurse turned private investigator in 1930s England. The series’ strength lies in its portrayal of a society turned upside down after the huge losses suffered in World War I and the resulting changes in the […]
Children's & YAPicture Book

How does your garden grow?

Review by Trisha Ping

Spring is just around the corner, and reading Kevin Henkes’ latest picture book is an excellent way to anticipate the change in seasons. In My Garden, the author of classics like Kitten’s First Full Moon and Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse blends the beauty of nature and the power of imagination for an appealing, if quiet, story.

After helping her mother work in the garden one day, Henkes’ young heroine has decided opinions about what will—and will not—grow once she has a garden of her own. “Tomatoes will be as big as beach balls, and carrots will be invisible, because I don’t like carrots,” she announces confidently. She also lends her green thumb to cultivating more sugary delicacies. Plant a jellybean? Grow a jellybean bush! And the only rabbits allowed are chocolate.

Colorful watercolor and ink illustrations adorn every page, bringing the garden in the little girl’s mind to life. One memorable spread shows her surrounded by butterflies and birds, “so that the air was humming with wings.” This fanciful tale is a sweet and simple read for the nature-loving dreamer in your family.

RELATED CONTENT
Interview with Kevin Henkes
Illustrated Q&A with Kevin Henkes
Review of Kitten’s First Full Moon
Kevin Henkes’ website

Spring is just around the corner, and reading Kevin Henkes’ latest picture book is an excellent way to anticipate the change in seasons. In My Garden, the author of classics like Kitten’s First Full Moon and Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse blends the beauty of nature and the power of imagination for an appealing, if quiet, […]
Fiction

A change of plans

Review by Trisha Ping

Lionel Shriver’s anticipated follow-up to The Post-Birthday World tackles a tricky subject: health care in the United States. Not exactly the most engaging topic for a novel—but then neither is school violence, which Shriver managed to make into a gripping page-turner (2003’s We Need to Talk About Kevin). Though So Much for That does occasionally groan under the weight of its heavy subject, overall it is a thought-provoking novel that goes beyond the managed care/private insurer debate to explore the ways we face and respond to illness in people we love.

Shep Knacker (Shriver has a fondness for Dickensian names) has sold his business to fund a retirement escape to a tropical island. With hundreds of thousands in the Merrill-Lynch account, Shep thinks he and his family are all set—until his wife Glynis comes home one day with a cancer diagnosis. But they are insured, so Shep trusts that the treatments will be paid for and Glynis will be cured. It isn’t long before their premiums and Glynis’ body are both maxed out, leaving the disillusioned Shep to watch their retirement fund dwindle and wonder whether a dream should be sacrificed to fight a battle that may not be won.

So Much for That showcases Shriver’s deep understanding of family dynamics. One of the most moving relationships in the novel develops between Glynis and Flicka, the daughter of Shep’s best friend. Each is facing death, but due to the cheerful jargon and “we’ll beat this” philosophy of the medical establishment (ably lampooned by Shriver), no one they meet will acknowledge that fact. Jackson and Shep’s conversations, on the other hand, are not quite as authentic—some of their discussions about the trials of the health care system recall the type of chats that women in birth control commercials have about Yaz. Still, the plot never gets too bogged down in polemics; rather than advocating one solution, Shriver mainly sticks to pointing out the problems of the current system.

Near the end of the book, Shep has his first honest discussion with Glynis’ doctor and discovers just how much extra time their nest egg bought his wife. It’s a poignant moment that highlights the limits of even the most modern science in the battle against death, while acknowledging our human need for hope against the odds. Though So Much for That might not be the best introduction to Shriver, it is a wry, astutely observed book that delivers all the way up to the unexpected conclusion.

Lionel Shriver’s anticipated follow-up to The Post-Birthday World tackles a tricky subject: health care in the United States. Though So Much for That does occasionally groan under the weight of its heavy subject, overall it is a thought-provoking novel that goes beyond the managed care/private insurer debate to explore the ways we face and respond to illness in people we love.
Children's & YAMiddle Grade

A charming return to a beloved classic

Review by Trisha Ping

Readers of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess didn’t have to worry about the fate of its optimistic heroine, Sara Crewe. After going from riches to rags, she was rescued from Miss Minchin’s Select Seminary for Young Ladies by her father’s business partner.

But the fates of the other girls weren’t so neatly tied up. Whatever happened to mischievous Lottie, supercilious Lavinia and Sara’s very best friend, Ermengarde? Those questions and more are answered in Hilary McKay’s delightful new book for middle-grade readers, Wishing for Tomorrow. McKay has won acclaim for novels like Saffy’s Angel and Forever Rose, and here she has created a worthy successor to A Little Princess.

The novel begins with the final days of Sara’s tenure at Miss Minchin’s, where the loss of her fortune has the former star pupil paying for her keep by working as a maid. The loyal Ermengarde defies Miss Minchin to visit Sara in the cold attic, until she discovers that Sara has been keeping secrets. After Sara’s abrupt departure, Ermengarde feels betrayed by her so-called best friend, even as she misses Sara’s imagination and magical stories. Still, she takes over Sara’s role of “mother” to Lottie and ventures to the attic to feed Sara’s pet rat, Melchisedec. But there’s not much time to brood over the past: Miss Minchin is acting strangely, Lavinia is keeping secrets and there’s a new boy next door who calls Ermengarde “the goldy one.” These adventures—and a visit to Aunt Eliza—help Ermengarde discover that she has some magic of her own. Over the course of McKay’s lively tale, she learns important lessons about forgiveness, courage and true friendship.

When you turn the last page of a beloved book, your first instinct is to want to know what happens next. Wishing for Tomorrow both satisfies that desire and reinvigorates it. Fans of A Little Princess couldn’t ask for a better addition to their favorite story.

Readers of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess didn’t have to worry about the fate of its optimistic heroine, Sara Crewe. After going from riches to rags, she was rescued from Miss Minchin’s Select Seminary for Young Ladies by her father’s business partner. But the fates of the other girls weren’t so neatly tied up. […]
FictionWomen's FictionDebut Fiction

Salvation in Savannah

Review by Trisha Ping

At the beginning of Beth Hoffman’s charming debut novel, young CeeCee Honeycutt has serious problems. Virtually abandoned by her salesman father, the young girl is left with her mentally ill mother, who lives mostly in her beauty pageant-winning past. Scorned by her classmates, who know about her awkward family situation, CeeCee finds solace in books and a kindly elderly neighbor, until her mother’s death changes everything.

Luckily, that’s when her whirlwind of a great-aunt swoops in. Eccentric, warm-hearted Tootie totes CeeCee to Savannah, Georgia, in her sleek automobile, and she is just the first of many remarkable women CeeCee will meet in her new hometown. Together they give the 12-year-old a taste of stability for the first time in her life, helping her to understand, and eventually forgive, her mother, her father and herself.

Saving CeeCee Honeycutt is a gem of a story, lovingly told. The 1960s Southern setting and coming-of-age angle may remind readers of favorites like The Secret Life of Bees—not surprising, since it was bought by the same editor—but the episodic narrative style and bookish heroine will also bring to mind classics like Anne of Green Gables. In fact, Saving CeeCee Honeycutt could easily be a crossover hit with teens. Readers who savor books with memorable characters and Southern settings will consider this a novel to treasure.

RELATED CONTENT:
Read an interview with Beth Hoffman.

At the beginning of Beth Hoffman’s charming debut novel, young CeeCee Honeycutt has serious problems. Virtually abandoned by her salesman father, the young girl is left with her mentally ill mother, who lives mostly in her beauty pageant-winning past. Scorned by her classmates, who know about her awkward family situation, CeeCee finds solace in books […]

Sign Up

Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.

Sign up now

Trending Features

All Features