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Thurber House announces its first ever Special Summer Event featuring Tess Gerritsen, international bestselling author of the hugely popular Rizzoli & Isles suspense series. She will be reading at the Canzani Center on the campus of the Columbus College of Art & Design on Tuesday, July 12 at 7:00 p.m.

The Silent Girl is the brand new novel in the series featuring police detective Rizzoli and medical examiner Isles. The crime-fighting duo is the basis for the TV series, Rizzoli & Isles, entering its second season on TNT this summer. The Silent Girl is Gerritsen at the top of her form with crisp writing and an edgy plot that takes place in Boston’s Chinatown.

The New York Times bestselling author’s books have received numerous awards, been translated into 37 languages, and have sold 20 million copies world-wide.

Tickets for this event are $15 and are buy one, get one free! To redeem this special offer call Thurber House at 614-464-1032 ext. 11.

From the Publisher

A compulsively readable new series that explores a fascinating culture set purposely apart.

In the wooded Amish hill country, a professor at a small college, a local pastor, and the county sheriff are the only ones among the mainstream, or “English,” who possess the instincts and skills to work the cases that impact all county residents, no matter their code of conduct or religious creed.

A fatal accident involving and Amish buggy and an eighteen-wheeler sets Professor Michael Branden on a quest to uncover the links between the crash and a spate of disturbing events.

Broken English: An Amish-Country Mystery (Ohio Amish Mysteries) by P.L. Gaus

From the Publisher

The peaceful town of Millersburg, Ohio, in the heart of Ohio’s Amish country, is rocked by the vicious murder of one of its citizens at the hands of an ex-convict. When a local reporter covering the story ends up dead as well, with the convict already behind bars, suspicion falls on David Hawkins, father of the first victim. But Hawkins is nowhere to be found, not even among the protective Amish colony that had taken him in as one of its own regardless of his shadowy past.

Following on the critical and popular success of his first book, mystery writer P. L. Gaus again brings us a moral and legal conundrum as Professor Michael Branden, Sheriff Bruce Robertson, and Pastor Cal Troyer set out to uncover the truth that seems so elusive in their otherwise quiet corner of the world.

Along the way, Gaus paints a unique portrait of the relationship between the Amish and the English cultures as seen from the inside. Against this backdrop, Broken English is a tale of honor, deception, and revenge, where circumstances and the search for justice test the mettle of the closest of friends and reveal the desperate measures of the strongest of foes.

Publishers Weekly

In the Old Order Amish communities of Ohio’s Holmes County, it is rare for one of the self-styled “plain” people to seek aid from an outsider, one of “the English.” But Bishop Eli Miller needs help and goes for it to a local academic, Michael Brandon. Years before, Miller had exiled his son Jonah for his wild ways. Now Jonah has snatched his own son, Jeremiah, who has been living with the bishop. In a note to his father, Jonah sends assurances that the boy will be returned by harvest time. Concern about Jeremiah’s exposure to the outside world prompts the bishop to ask Brandon to locate the boy. And Brandon, too, is worried: Jeff Hostettler–whose sister, Jeremiah’s mother, committed suicide–has vowed to kill Jonah on sight. When Jonah is discovered shot dead, dressed in traditional Amish garb and apparently on his way back in repentance to the bishop’s home, Hostettler becomes the prime suspect. But where is Jeremiah? Gaus brings a refreshing authenticity to his unusual setting and characters. There are no wisecracking gumshoes here, but instead believable characters whose faith is explored with respect. Anyone who enjoyed the film Witness should take to this fine mystery debut.

I am officially a/the Columbus Book Examiner.  What’s this mean?  It means I will be writing about books and authors at the Columbus Examiner. So:

• If you are a writer, author, or blogger in Ohio – or know of one – please let me know if I should link your site, go to your event, etc.
• If you are a publicists/publisher and your author is going to be in or around Ohio please let me know.
• If you feel like being nice, go to the site and leave a friendly comment or suggestion.

What does it mean for this site?  Nothing really. Just thought you would like to know …

But it is more than that.

For those unfamiliar with the subject here is some useful background from the book’s website:

Joe Mackall has lived surrounded by the Swartzentruber Amish community of Ashland County, Ohio, for over sixteen years. They are the most traditional and insular of all the Amish sects: the Swartzentrubers live without gas, electricity, or indoor plumbing; without lights on their buggies or cushioned chairs in their homes; and without rumspringa, the recently popularized “running-around time” that some Amish sects allow their sixteen-year-olds.

Over the years, Mackall has developed a steady relationship with the Shetler family (Samuel and Mary, their nine children, and their extended family). Plain Secrets tells the Shetlers’ story over these years, using their lives to paint a portrait of Swartzentruber Amish life and mores. During this time, Samuel’s nephew Jonas finally rejects the strictures of the Amish way of life for good, after two failed attempts to leave, and his bright young daughter reaches the end of school for Amish children: the eighth grade. But Plain Secrets is also the story of the unusual friendship between Samuel and Joe. Samuel is quietly bemused—and, one suspects, secretly delighted—at Joe’s ignorance of crops and planting, carpentry and cattle. He knows Joe is planning to write a book about the family, and yet he allows him a glimpse of the tensions inside this intensely private community.

If I had to pick a word to descirbe Mackall’s writing it would be “honest.”

In our day and age the concept of “real” has become a cliche; part of a hokey phrase like “keeping it real.” But there is something very real about the way Mackall writes and the stories he tells.  The relationships he explores and the way he communicates them reflects both an honest curiostiy but also a deep respect for the people involved.

Mackall gives the reader a basic overview of the this particular Amish community and helpfully provides context for the larger Amish culture.  He does this with care by intentionally avoiding sensationalism.  But at the same he xplores his own feelings about this unique community and what this says about our culture and theirs – and how the two interact. This deep respect for his subject matter and a continuing sense of introspection makes for a much deeper story.

Those with an interest in the Amish are probably already well aware of Plain Secrets.  But if you have ever wondered about Amish life this would be a great introduction – not because of the technical details but because of the real sense of how they live.  But really, anyone who enjoys well written narrative non-fiction would enjoy this engaging book.

Joe Mackall’s [amazon-product region="us" text="The Last Street Before Cleveland" type="text"]0803232551[/amazon-product] was one book that got lost in the shuffle somehow and sat in the “To Be Reviewed” pile for months.  So this week I resolved to write about it and check that off the list.

So what exactly is the book about?  Despite the books brevity (150 pages) it is not easy to summarize.  It is about trying to go home again; about overcoming depression and finding faith; about memory and nostalgia; about the dying blue collar world; etc.

The publisher describes it this way:

The old neighborhood was the place Joe Mackall left. It was a place where everyone’s parents worked at the factory at the dead end of the street, where the Catholic church and school operated like a religious city hall, and where a boy like Joe grew up vowing to get out as soon as he could and to shed his blue-collar beginnings and failed, flawed religion. When the mysterious death of a childhood friend draws him back to the last street before Cleveland, however, he discovers that there is more to “old haunts” than mere words—and more to severing one’s roots than just getting away.

The titular “last street before” Cleveland is the street Mackall lived on in Parma, Ohio just outside of Cleveland; one street up and you were in Cleveland proper.  Which is not all that far away from where the author lives now in Ashland, Ohio where he teaches English and journalism at Ashland University.  But culturally and metaphorically it is a different world.

So when he returns to the geography of his youth it is a disorientating experience and it takes him in directions he never anticipated.  This memoir takes the reader along for the ride.

For my belated thoughts click below.

And allow me to once again be lazy, or derivative, and use the PW blurb as a jumping off place:

Mackall returns to his childhood blue-collar stomping grounds when a friend dies, for reasons he doesn’t fully explain in this focused but gloomy memoir. Mackall, an English and journalism professor at Ohio’s Ashland University, recounts the working-class culture of the 1970s Midwest and tells of how his Italian immigrant grandfather, fleeing the mob, made his way to suburban Cleveland. Mackall’s elegy for the workers’ world employs delightful language (after all, he’s a “card-carrying nostalgist” with a knack for one-liners).

However, he struggles in writing about his present despair, about what he lacks and what he hopes to find by returning to Cleveland. As Mackall begins to doubt the efficacy of his search, spiraling into isolation and a renewed drug addiction, his prose dries up, as does the narrative’s concentration on his illuminating memories. “Aching to drag the past” into his lungs, he begins to contemplate a “self-administered overdose”-that is, until a sudden rekindling of faith in God hits.

The epiphany, coming after the repetitious middle section, is a relief-but the restoration of working-class stability via faith is not as convincing, or nearly as beautiful, as the earlier nostalgic recreation of a lost world.

The first thing that struck me was how much I could relate to this memoir.  The list of differences between my childhood and Mackalls is quite large: I am a Midwesterner, and currently live in Ohio, but I didn’t grow up near an urban area; my family wasn’t really blue collar; nor were they Catholic.

But what I could relate to was that sense of loss; the feeling that the world of your youth – and all the related connections – is gone.  My family have moved quite a bit and I lack much besides psychological connections to the places I grew up.  I feel like I don’t have a “home” like some people do.

I also feel like I have a strong melancholic side to my personality which matched Mackall’s tone; a sort of blend of nostalgia, regret, and loss.

I think the Christian Century review captured why I could relate:

The central theme of the book is not surprising–that the journey itself is the only true home. Life and faith are not about any arrival but about the struggles along the road. Yet Mackall writes with rare honesty and a compelling narrative voice. At times he manages a kind of dark humor that opens readers to deeper themes.

And while I agree, with PW, that the first third of the book might employ more “delightful language” I didn’t find either the middle or the concluding sections dry or repetitive.  Instead, I think it was more a function of the actions taking place.

Mackall is basically spinning his wheels mentally, physically, and spiritually in this middle section.  The search for his past didn’t bring the needed answers, the drugs are only making things worse and he feels like he can’t find a way out.  The first section has a more interesting narrative because it is a blend of outside actions, including reflections on past actions, and internal actions.

As the book moves toward the present, and the destabilizing effects of his journey on the present, the physical actions are dreary and uneventful for the most part.  In describing this mental, spiritual, and physical exhaustion, the text takes on some of the frustration and angst. But it is necessary to sense the relief involved in what PW calls the epiphany.  Just like Mackall, the reader wants to break out of this cycle.  But for me it didn’t drag on in such a way as to be annoying or distracting.  It felt natural.

I also think one of the reasons the faith focused section, the very end, comes off less flushed out than many would seem to like is because Mackall is a very private person when it comes to these matters.  This new found, or re-found, faith is fragile and deeply personal.  He isn’t going to unpack it all and offer up a complete theological package.

And contrary to PW, I did find the spiritual recovery beautiful.  Once again, the Christina Century gets it right.  The review turns Mackall’s prose into a sort of free verse poetry in the way the text is presented:

I listen to the snow squeaking beneath
my feet and the geese honking
overhead. I hear an Amish
horse and buggy in the distance….
Have the clip-clopping hooves always
dripped with such exquisite
harmony? Down the road I can
make out clusters of tiny black angels
scurrying against the snow.
The sight of these Amish children
walking home from school nearly
drops me to my knees. The cold
wind against my face feels like a
frigid grace. An old man in a beat-up
blue pickup passes me and
waves. It’s as if something has revealed
a tear in the surface of
things. I see connections everywhere.

To me that has beauty and grace to it.

The Last Street Before Cleveland is a deeply personal book and one that packs a lot of emotion and power in a slim volume.  I am not a big reader of memoirs and personal essays, but Mackall’s subject and obvious writing skill made this one well worth reading.

Sorry, it took me so long to tell you about it.