The Slippery Art of Book Reviewing
Mayra Calvani and Anne K. Edwards
Twilight Times Books
978-1-933353-22-7

Having been mostly dusted out of its corner of the newspaper (replaced by what, exactly, I don’t know), the book review has become something of national hobby. But without the red pencil of a curmudgeonly editor, the Shelfari and GoodReads reviews often reek of amateurism, hardly a tribute to the poor author they’re trying to excoriate or acclaim. Thank your lucky stars then, that Calvani and Edwards are here to kindly save the day.

According to the authors, both writers and reviewers, there are five keys to being a good reviewer:

Command of Language
Clarity of Thought
Honesty
Objectivity
Tact

Sounds like the qualities of good friend, a good person, a good sibling, a good coworker, doesn’t it?

The authors then, very simply, explain how to read critically by breaking down the techniques of writing into different categories, like, in the case of fiction, plot, pacing, and point of view. (Definitions of these techniques are included.) They go on to distinguish different kinds of reviews, and they clarify the distinction between prepublication reviews, press releases, and critiques.

The meat and potatoes of the book come in a section called “Types of Reviews.” Here, the authors produce different kinds of reviews—long/short, positive/negative, nasty/nice, fiction/nonfiction, etc.—then critique the first effort and rewrite. There’s not a reviewer out there that wouldn’t benefit from this review of reviewing.

If the hobby becomes work – in the good sense—there are helpful suggestions about everything from what to do with those books piling up all over the floor, how much money to ask for, and how to start your own book review site online. The last section on the book contains a fat list of online and print publications, divided by genre.

I have to say that the cover of this book is substandard; truly unfortunate as the content is anything but. Nevertheless, this is a great reference book for libraries, and would be a nice (nicer with another cover) addition to book club displays.

The Slippery Art authors follow all the rules of good reviewing in their writing—command of language, clarity of thought, objectivity—and they are also clearly blessed with those two rules that stand behind all good teachers: honesty and tact.

Once upon a time, I used to do historical research, mainly concerning wars. My last job concerned the war in Afghanistan, and I found myself relying on the authors and editors of the Rand Corporation for their well-researched, boots on the ground approach. (A few of the Special Forces guys I met commented that Rand was the holy grail of post-service, big brain employment.)

Here’s a selection of the Rand books that have come through my office lately. Libraries and bookstores can’t go wrong with these mostly slender volumes. They are indispensable for historians, journalists, academics, and policy makers.



In Their Own Words: Voices of Jihad (Rand, 978-0-8330-4402-0) carries the heavy endorsements of Bob Woodward, Zbigniew Brzezinski, and John Esposito on the back cover. Compiled by Rand’s director of Middle East Public Policy, David Aaron, the book provides a wide variety of views, stories, and justifications by individuals who promote terrorism in the name of Islam. “We have not attempted to present a balanced collection of Muslim views in this book,” Aaron writes in the Note on Sources. “Because the book comprises original jihadi writings, the issue of balance is not germane, except as it pertains to conflicting jihadi views.” While terrorism may have always been a tactic of warfare, seldom have its authors been so well documented.



Iran’s Political, Demographic, and Economic Vulnerabilities (Rand, 978-0-8330-4304-7) by Keith Crane, Rollie Lal, and Jeffrey Martini is the typical under-200-pages size of most of Rand’s monographs. Here, the work was sponsored by the Air Force and carried out in 2005. It covers political, ethnic, and demographic issues, and predicts economic trajectories of growth. Clear and to-the-point, the book finishes with a set of policy recommendations that include discouraging ethnic groups from violently opposing the regime and encouraging the development of markets as the buying power of the electorate translates into less control by the regime. It also recommends that the US not oppose Iran’s accession to the WTO.



Counterinsurgency in Afghanistan (Rand, 978-0-8330-4133-3). Author Seth Jones writes in the summary, “This study’s assessment of 90 insurgencies indicates that it takes an average of 14 years to defeat insurgents once an insurgency develops.” What are the major factors that allow an insurgency to develop and stick? Native lawlessness and a foreign safe haven for resting and resupply. The mujahadeen hid from the Soviets in Pakistan, now Pakistan also protects the Taliban. Jones, who has made repeated trips to Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India since 2004, stresses the importance of involving local populations in counterinsurgency operations. The history and strategies in this book are important for understanding the nature of unconventional warfare, no matter where in the world it is.

The IMBA (Independent Mystery Booksellers Association) announced today its June bestsellers, and I’m sorry to say that not a single independent title was among them. Not one. Not in hardcover, trade, or mass market. Is it possible that the mysteries published by big houses are that much better than the ones produced by independents? I don’t believe it.

I’m something of a fan(atic) about mysteries, and took on the job of reviewing titles for the July/August Mystery Feature in ForeWord. I’m pretty sure that there’s nothing we get more of around here—in the mailroom, that is—than mysteries. I must have had two hundred books in the initial pile, narrowed to about thirty, and then, finally, ten. I believe that each of the Final Ten is absolutely fabulous and deserves a place on your patio this summer.

There’s a new Kerry Greenwood out from Poisoned Pen, Queen of the Flowers. If you like cozy/whimsical/extravagant female protagonists, then this one and Assassins at Ospreys by R.T. Raichev (Soho) are for you.

If grit and unhappiness, money and dirt are your penchant, then try Blood Alley by Tom Coffey. The author’s an editor at the NYT and knows his NYC. Easy Innocence by Libby Fischer Hellman (Bleak House) takes on Chicago, actually the North Shore, in a novel about the degenerate elite.

I rather like traveling abroad in my mysteries. I learn about food, living conditions, the people, and get a little sleuthing exercise as well. Soho always has an amazing collection of these kinds of titles. I enjoyed Reconstruction by Mick Herron (takes place at a kindergarten in London) and Blood of the Wicked by Leighton Gage (takes place in the Brazilian boondocks). Also, The Shadow in the Water by Swedish author Laura Wideburg (Pleasure Boat Studio) is lugubriously wide-open creepy as only they can be in the far north.

Back in the States, there’s a fantastic new book out by Archer Mayer, Open Season. Mayer used to write for the big guys, but left them to publish on his own. Wonder how that’s going for him… The story takes place in Vermont, where coincidentally Mayer is a death inspector for the Medical Examiner in real life. Experience and sharp wit make this series a keeper.

Experience also works in first-time novelist Thomas Taylor’s favor. As a former protective services operator (government bodyguard), his book Mortal Shield (Southeast Missouri State) walks and talks like the real thing and mixes the ultimate American pie of God, guns, and infidelity.

Finally, Overlook has brought out a reissue of a Charles McCarry masterwork, The Better Angels. The time is post-Nixon, fuel is scarce, gas rationed, lights out at dark. And there’s an election going on for president between, on the one hand, an authoritarian, and on the other, a man of the people. Too bad the good guy is also a murderer.

Check out the complete reviews of these books online, plus features on poetry, parenting, and music—and get yourself some great independent books from your independent bookstores.

The Price of Everything is the name of a book I got in the mail recently from Princeton (978-0-691-13509-0). Apart from the intriguing title, the BISAC categories on the back were POPULAR ECONOMICS and FICTION. Huh?! Who could resist that?
 
Not me. I sat on the back porch one Saturday and didn’t get up until it was over. Then I went back through and made notes. Then, I decided that all of my children had to read it over summer break—required. A couple of days later, I talked about it to a friend of mine who teaches at a private middle school, convincing him that it would be a good pick for next year’s curriculum. Yes, it’s this good. I just love it when someone takes a topic that generally bores the pants off people and makes it discussion worthy.

Here’s how the book gets started:
 
Meet Ramon. He’s a senior at Stanford and a tennis star. He’s also an immigrant from Cuba, where his father was a champion and hero of Castro’s favorite sport, baseball. After the father’s death, however, the Great Leader’s favors dried up, and Ramon’s mother felt that opportunities for her son were greater in the US. Of course, after their immigration the statues of the baseball hero were pulled down and the photos erased.

So now, about twenty years later, Ramon and his girlfriend are having dinner one night and there’s an earthquake. They’re used to such things and finish the meal, but later decide that they could use a flashlight or two. They head to Home Depot. Too late. Flashlights are sold out. No worries; there’s a new gigantic everything store—a combo of Borders, Home Depot, and Sam’s Club—called Big Box. They’ll go there.
 
And they do. And in fact, Big Box has flashlights and milk and diapers and all the other stuff that other stores have run out of. BUT, there’s also a sign posted at the entrance that says: Tonight Only, All Prices, Double the Marked Price.
 
Predictably, in the parking lot there’s a bit of a riot going on, and some poor sap employee is trying to explain to the irate crowd that basically, there’s nothing he can do about it.
 
But, here’s the thing: Do they have flashlights? Yes. Do Ramon and his girlfriend buy one even though it costs double the usual? Yes.

In the checkout line, though, they hit a snag. A Spanish-speaking woman with a baby on her hip only has twenty bucks to cover her purchases—she didn’t plan on the prices doubling. Ramon gets involved. He calms the woman, passes a hat, and helps the woman check out. Then he heads outside to that poor sap employee who’s still trying to explain to masses why he’s just a poor sap. Ramon grabs the megaphone and starts to talk. “What kind of store,” he says, “decides to profit off of hungry children and a caring mother? We need to send a message…”

Stay tuned: between the Cuban story, Stanford economics classes, the Big Box boycott, and why no single person is capable of making a pencil, this is a beautiful little book about how the market economy works.

Author Robert Russell is also a professor of economics at George Mason University and research fellow at Stanford’s Hoover Institution. This is the third book where he stirs up an economic/fiction stew with his invisible hand.

Oh Amazon.

Remember back in the old first heady days of Amazon when people like me, surrounded by farmland and little children, could discover and order a book, almost any book, and have it hand-delivered to their own personal boondocks? While savings didn’t really exist in price, the service totally made up for it in terms of hassle and availability.

When I wrote my first book and published it just last year, Amazon was also there as a storefront and potential for marketing. Just a bit ago, I even uploaded my book to Kindle for no charge.

However, there are low rumblings and sweet Amazon words coming through my email every week encouraging me to use their POD service when my shelf stock runs out. I’ve been a loyal Lulu user for a couple of years now—printing everything from our local small press offerings to class materials to books. The printed books are always perfectly bound, the pages straight, the text crisp, the covers brilliant.

But, they’re also pretty expensive, particularly as it’s difficult to have orders from Baker & Taylor or Amazon shipped directly from the store.

So here comes Amazon and an enticing CreateSpace offer last week. No set-up charge (unlike BookSurge’s $299 a pop), and single copies running about $5.70 each. Lulu costs me about nine bucks, and that’s not including shipping. So, we’re talking about half the price—big savings. Huge savings.

Let’s try it.

I did. I uploaded the same PDF files I use at Lulu. The very same ones; I didn’t change a thing. It was easy, although CreateSpace didn’t allow me to look at proof online. I had to order one. Which I did. It arrived very quickly—within a week of the upload.

Big disappointment. The title on the cover looks like it’s been chewed at the edges, ditto the spine text. The barcode on the back is blurry and the blurb almost illegible. Although the interior text is legible, it’s far from crisp, and a comparison with the Lulu copy makes it look bloated. Just all around poor printing quality plain and simple.

While I’m sure I could get away with interior text in bookstores, I’m also sure that no one but my mom is going to want to display or endorse a book with such a carelessly produced cover.

Of course, I corresponded with Amazon about the problem, but they weren’t interested.

    Please Note: This e-mail message was sent from a notification-only address that cannot accept incoming e-mail.

    Hello Heather,

    Thank you for your reply.

    We are sorry to hear that you are unhappy with our services. We wish you luck in your future endeavors.

    Please feel free to contact us with any other inquiries.


So what I want to know is what happens to authors like me when our shelf stock runs out? Will we be faced with a choice of sinking or swimming in Amazon’s river? And who’s name will be Mud?

I didn’t cook as a kid living at home, and I didn’t cook when I went to college. I think I may have started to think about cooking when I tried to make an omelette from romantic description in Alejo Carpentier’s City of Light. Awful. Oh, and the nostalgic tuna noodle casserole (forgive me, I was pregnant). Revolting.

Coming of age in Mexico and handicapped by my feeble reading skills, the books in my house were all there because I’d heaved them down from Michigan. Initially, I had one cookbook, The Joy of Cooking. The old blue hardback edition with the very fiftyish line drawings, probably snitched from my mom’s kitchen. I recall that the page with the spaghetti recipe was stained with tomato sauce—not my tomato sauce. (I don’t remember my mom ever making spaghetti, so maybe the book wasn’t hers after all.)

Anyway, I read it cover to cover. Can you believe it? It’s quite chatty and there are little tips and asides on nearly every page. I also learned about canning, pickling, natural pectins, and yeasts at high altitudes. It wasn’t McGee, but it was thorough for its time. I did learn to make a great Devil’s Food cake by reading and experimenting.

I don’t remember actually buying Molly Katzen’s Moosewood Cookbook, but the objectness of it, the color of its cover, the illustrations and handwritten text, are forever integral to falling in love with cooking. I’m sure I cooked every single dish she recorded, and some of them became standard fare—Tuesdays for samozas and Thursdays for lentil burgers. The book had multiple uses also as the best recipes became translation exercises, and I even created a flipbook for my daughter on the right-hand pages.

And there were the salads. Who knew? Back in my growing-up house, we had two kinds of everyday salad: cottage cheese and canned peaches on iceberg and iceberg with Wishbone Italian. (On special occasions, we had frozen marshmallow salad.) Molly Katzen’s simple Garlic & Herb Vinaigrette was a revelation. And remember White Rabbit? Or Alfa-Romaino?

If your Moosewood Cookbook looks anything like mine (how can I toss it with the flipbook, the notes), you’ll appreciate Ten Speed reissuing in a compact form Mollie Katzen’s Recipes: Salads (978-1-58008-878-7). You never know: give it as a gift and twenty years from now that person might say, This is the book that started it all.

Seeing Beyond Sight (Chronicle Books, 978-0-8118-5349-1) was a “leap in the dark” kind of project for photographer and teacher Tony Diefell. “Photography wasn’t the most obvious subject to teach at the Governor Morehead School for the Blind in Raleigh, North Carolina.”

“Obvious” is a great word choice. It comes from Latin, ob- (in the way of) via (way). In the way of the way, or the path. Something that blocks something else. A quick flip though the book, and what you see is obvious: torsos without heads, beds with stuff, floors, walls. What is this? Why is it more than obvious? Diefell explains in the introduction:

“When I first saw the photographs of the sidewalk, I thought they were a mistake. Perhaps LEUWYNDA had intended to capture a classmate of one of the large oak trees scattered across the campus. I was wrong. As soon as LEUWYNDA got her camera, she knew what she wanted to do: photograph the cracks in the sidewalk.

“The pictures were proof of damage, and she sent them, along with a letter, to Superintendent Sheila Breitweiser. ‘Since you are sighted,’ LEUWYNDA wrote, ‘you may not notice these cracks. They are a big problem since my white cane gets stuck.’ LEUWYNDA asked that the cracks be fixed—and they were.”

That’s only the beginning of the revelations, for Diefell, the students, the reader. This is an amazing book, and would make a fantastic social teaching tool for use in middle and high schools. See the website at www.seeingbeyondsight.com.


Birds: The Art of Ornithology by Jonathan Elphick (Rizzoli, 978-0-8478-3134-0) sets off with the history of the art, beginning in the mid-1600s when painters left the still life behind and moved aboard ships bound for the new worlds. Originally published in 2005, this is what publisher Rizzoli calls a “mini edition,” although a foreword by Dr. Robert Prys-Jones, Collection Manager at the British Natural History Museum, is an exclusive. The reproductions in both books are primarily from the Museum’s enormous collection of more than a million books and half a million images on paper.

There’s a decent amount of text in the book, documenting the enormous range in age and personalities that sat for hours to capture in paint or ink or pencil the form of birds. Given the small dimensions of this edition however (5.5 x 6.25), I advise you to enjoy the plates and forget about the words unless you’re equipped with young eyes.

But the illustrations are beautiful, the paper is good, and the binding tough. Once the introductory chapters end, the illustrations are ordered by artist—it’s an amazing breakthrough when Audubon figures out how to realistically show birds swimming, squabbling, or flying. Birds makes a charming gift book for all ages—and looks lovely displayed on a table.

There hasn’t been a single phone call in the last month when my daughter hasn’t felt the necessity to point out just how sick she is of school. Her statistics class gets the most razzing – she can’t believe she actually paid $600 for something that even the professor finds irrelevant. Or, how would you explain a prof who allows students to chat on their cell phones during lectures. (Lectures?) When I mentioned that her brother had opted to continue in college throughout the spring, she was quick to spout off the wisdom of a recent NPR report that included music in the list of careers that benefited not at all from a college degree.

As I’m writing this, our blogger at Shelf Space just posted an article about the disconnect between what is taught in college and what is needed in a library. Eva Mays writes, “Library Science is not something that can be taught in a lecture hall; it can only be learned in a library!”



Have I got a book for you. Put out by New World Library, The Career Chronicle: An Insider’s Guide to What Jobs are Really Like (978-1-57731-573-5) is fast and fascinating reading about the realities of some of the more idealized careers. In fact, “idealized” is a key word as real people talk about college expectations and hard-world facts. “Naïve” is another one, “paperwork,” “stress,” and yes, “unprepared.” Heaven forbid we scare the idealism out of our young people, but a little foreknowledge might help them avoid cynicism in the future.

And not all the careers are so dismally represented in their university training. Pharmacists felt well-prepared, and vets, and soil scientists (whew, I had to get all the way to the end of the book to find a third entry). Architects felt competent on the design side of their work, but stiffed on the business aspects. Lawyers unanimously felt that they’d been taught to “think like an attorney,” but were woefully unprepared for the practice of judges, clients, and deadlines.

Each career (there are twenty-three) has an overview by author Michael Gregory. Employment and salary levels from the appropriate associations are included as sidebars. Short answers to interview questions follow, like “How many hours do you work each week…?” and “What do you spend most of your day doing?” Title, numbers of years working in the field, and location identify the subjects.

Come to think of it, college professor isn’t included in the line-up, but maybe they’re the ones who need this book most.

Gregory was a lawyer and is now a freelance writer. His children have followed careers in soil, information tech, TV broadcasting, and elementary teaching.



Another college-bound book of note is Careers in Renewable Energy by Gregory McNamee (PixyJack Press, 978-0-9773724-3-0); descriptions of job opportunities in everything from energy to construction, transportation, and teaching.



And to get you revved up for that job of your dreams, try Improvisation for the Spirit: Live a More Creative, Spontaneous, and Courageous Life Using the Tools of Improv Comedy by Latie Goodman (Sourcebooks, 978-1-4022-1191-1). Stepping off from the argument that nothing is more stressful than stand-up comedy; that nothing requires fleeter brain footwork or more collaborative skills than group improv, Goodman, a contributor to O, The Oprah Magazine offers stand-up and write-down exercises to enlarge your spirit and transform your life.