©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.

I was surprised that I liked this book so much. It took an accummulation of courage for me to buy this book, after all, I’m a romance novelist, and postapocalyptic novels do not promise the cozy, fireside read that I often crave.

But since I believe it’s important to stretch my creative and intellectual mind, I did buy the book and I did read it, and I’m so glad, because sandwiched between scenes of a destroyed, burning, horrific earth are conversations between a father and son–on the road, searching for some warmer, more hospitable portion of the planet– of such tender humanity, love and courage that you can’t help but feel hope for the future despite the apparent futility of their quest.

I loved the way this book was written…the tight, meaningful, beautiful, masterful wielding of words. In their voyage, father and son carry knapsacks containing their essential possessions. The same holds for the words, and even the punctuation, in this novel, each carefully selected for precise meaning and powerful impact. It begins… “When he woke in the woods in the dark andthe cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Nights dark beyond darkness and the days more gray each one than what had gone before.”

Interestingly, the apocalyptic event which destroyed planet earth remains in the background leaving the focus on the boy and his father and their elemental relationship based on a melding of survival and love, both instincts that appear to be bred in the bone. The book offers little hope for long-term survival, though, for there are things that can “not be made right again.”

Still, there is something here to warm the heart afterall. “We are the good guys, right?” the boys asks his father, and we, deep in our hearts, believe that they are, that we are.

©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.

Of course you can always combine these two pleasure…take a trip and read a book at the same time! On my recent trip to Ixtapa I picked a real winner of a book–The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield.

This is a story steeped in gothic atmosphere, with a little mystery, a little romance, and a lot of beautifully written prose. It helps if you are a fan of books written by the Bronte sisters, particularly Jane Eyre, as this story is written in that tradition.

I believe it was on the Tuesday of our holiday, that I took this book, sank into a hammock, and read until the sun went down…

©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.

Here is where you go to download your free books: HarlequinCelebrates.

Happy Reading!

©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.

• Read a book to learn more about another part of the world. Recently I enjoyed The Book Thief about a young girl’s experiences in World War II Germany.
• Read a book on a non-fiction topic that you think is important. Read about the economy. The environment. Breaking health issues. Whatever you care about.
• Read a historical novel. I’ve chosen Ken Follett’s The Pillars of the Earth which is set in the Middle Ages.
• Read a book of poetry and rediscover the beauty and power of words. My daughter gave me Leonard Cohen’s Book of Longing as a Christmas gift and I’m planning on savoring the poems and drawings.
• Read a book that reminds you of all the good things there are in the world. Read a romance and remember that love is the greatest gift.

May we all be wiser and kinder people a year from now.

©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.

©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.

Outside, it had begun to snow: tiny flakes that made it look like the earth was being salted. Tomorrow I would need to buy a new shovel–the one John had used was too heavy for me. He’d appreciated hard manual labor, saying he liked to do work that was outside his head, for a change. I liked reading a good novel while he cleared the walks, popping up every now and then to look out the window and see how he was progressing. That was my contribution. Of course, I had reciprocated–bringing him dinner on a tray when the Sox were playing an important game. Sewing on buttons for him. Finding things he insisted weren’t there when they were actually right before him. I wasn’t sure Lorraine and other like her–ones who were so despairing of marriage, ones who were so sure their expectations could never be met–understood that it was these small moments of caretaking that meant the most, that forged the real relationship. The way one pulled the blankets over the sleeping other, the way one prepared a snack for oneself but made enough to share. Such moments made for the team of two, which made for one’s sword and shield.

So often it is the little things in life…and in writing…that really count.

©2010 CJ's Desk Diary. All Rights Reserved.