Three reasons why you should visit gorgeous Acadia National Park

View of Atlantic Ocean from the Loop Road at Acadia National Park. Lighthouse in the distance

I’ve never visited New England, and with good friends summering in Maine and many recommendations to visit Acadia National Park, we decided that family travel this summer should land us in the middle of Mount Desert Island, Maine. (That’s where Acadia is, for those of you, like me until this spring, who don’t know.)

Planning for the trip and finding lodging was super easy. We reserved a great house via Air BNB on the west side of the island, away from the crowds of Bar Harbor. Getting to Maine was more painful. I live in Virginia, a solid 15-hour drive away from Acadia that would include venturing on I-95 through DC, Baltimore and New York. Yuck. Despite my mishaps on the Amtrak this spring, we decided to take the train up to Boston (and squeeze in a tour of another city we’ve never visited) and take a rental car up to Acadia.

No matter how you get there, (many I’ve spoken to fly to Portland, ME) I highly recommend a visit to Acadia. And if you can, take a bike. Here’s why.

View of Bar Harbor, ME from The Loop Road around Acadia National Park

Majestic views

The geography of Maine is different from, but as beautiful as, the mountains of southwest Virginia. Maine boasts smaller mountains, but also tons of trees and a crisp freshness in the air. One morning of our trip, we drove the Loop Road around the island that encompasses most of Acadia National Park, and the views were gorgeous. Along the coast, deep green blue waters of the Atlantic crashed against rocks, while pine trees stretched up toward the blue sky. The variety of textures is breathtaking.

Upon the request of child #4, who loves orcas, we booked a whale watching tour that took us over 50 miles off of the coast. The four-hour adventure was worth the time, money, and mild queasiness. We didn’t spot orcas, but eventually we saw a huge basking shark and several humpback whales splashing their flukes on the surface of the water and showing off with partial breaches. Seeing those giant creatures, and hearing the depth of their blows, filled me with wonder. No pics. I chose to live in the moment.

Cleansing of the mind and spirit

The open air and open space of Acadia cleansed my mind and spirit. The wind rushing through the pines reminded me of water rushing through river rock, clearing debris out of my thoughts. While in Acadia Park, we biked the gravel carriage roads and enjoyed paddling on Long Pond. As I age, I appreciate more and more how time in green, outside, improves my mental health. Acadia was the perfect place for restorative rest.

There are many, many hiking trails in the park. Sadly, we only visited one. Guess we will have to go back!

New adventures

I’m so glad we invested in a trip to this part of the United States, and the family agreed we’d like to return. Preferably, with our own bikes. (How we will get them up there is a problem for another day.) While visiting, we took a bike tour guided by a National Park Ranger. The Ranger offered more education than biking opportunities (Fortunately, Acadia Bike, the rental company we booked with, allowed us to keep our bikes for the rest of the day) but we learned much about the native people who have lived near Acadia for hundreds of years. Our guide pointed out how the development of the park has changed the landscape (for the good and the bad), and how important it is to preserve such a beautiful space.

She posed an interesting question to our group: What can the park service do to maintain public access to this national treasure while still preserving its natural beauty and resources? That is quite a conundrum. I thought the park felt crowded, especially in Bar Harbor and along the Loop Road (which we didn’t visit until 11am), but apparently it wasn’t peak season yet. The park now requires visitors who want to travel to the Cadillac Mountain Summit to purchase a timed admission pass. That’s one way to ease traffic. Island Explorer provides free bus shuttle service (with financial support from LL Bean) around the island. Riders just need to show proof of purchase of a park pass. However, the stops are spread far apart and parking at the stops is limited. We only used the shuttle once because it was too far to walk to a stop.

People should visit Acadia to appreciate natural beauty and relax in nature. However, the millions of visitors to Acadia also deplete resources and bring trash and car exhaust. Maintaining access to parks while protecting nature is a tricky problem for the National Park Service. Our tour group didn’t have any viable solutions, but it’s something I’d like to learn more about.

Word Nerd Recommendations

Maine is gorgeous, and Acadia is worth the trip. I recommend venturing out to hiking trails or bike paths early, as things get crowded after 11am. My son biked the carriage roads all the way down to Jordan Pond, one of the popular destinations in the park. “Too touristy” he declared upon return. HE much preferred Bubble Pond.

Seven fabulous book recs from my summer reading exploits

Collage of book covers

This summer, I’ve paid more attention to the cleansing power of nature. How early morning hours spent ripping out weeds and nurturing seedlings soothe my rumpled thoughts. How an evening walk spent listening to the wind rustle through tree leaves cleanses my mind, leaving open space for creativity and wonder. How an afternoon spent reading in the breeze of my screened porch expands my breaths and my thinking. With that extra head space, I’ve finished several books this summer, and I want to share them with you. Get ready for my summer parade of books

Inciting Joy by Ross Gay

First, the book with the most ties to nature and gardening – Inciting Joy by Ross Gay. I’m a huge fan of The Book of Delights, also by Gay, and I saw him speak at the Virginia Festival of the Book last year. He’s a careful soul, full of deep thoughts and humorous quips. Inciting Joy is a collection of 14 essays covering everything from grief to creativity to the importance of connection.

In “We Kin (The Garden: The Third Incitement),” Gay ponders the constant chatter among gardeners, “asking what you need, asking for help, asking do you have any, asking could you use this… Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth it goes.” Gay goes on to say, beautifully:

And why is this back and forth– another word for which is sharing; another phrase for which is mutual aid– the gardener’s disposition or, maybe more to the point, practice? Because a garden– a healthy, thriving garden– tells us to… We’re just emulating the garden, which is s repository of sharing…

…we should all be able to get into a garden or a forest or an orchard if we want… What would happen if we acknowledged that none of this is privilege, but rather it is as it should and could be?And what if we figured out, together, in a million different ways, how to make it so? Or to say it another way: rather than cursing the darkness, what if we planted some seeds?

The essay is an ode to the beauty of gardening, and how it can, and should, pull us closer together.

picture of a purple spiderwort plant
Avid gardener friends gave me this spiderwort plant last summer. It survived a three hour trip in the car and a transplant! I’m a huge fan of purple.

Perhaps you can sense from this quote, and all of the ellipses peppered throughout the words I shared (ellipses are those three dots that indicate I left out some words from the text), that Gay has a tendency to ramble. In the essays of Inciting Joy, Gay constantly interrupts himself, launching into digressions and run on sentences that I sometimes had to reread to understand. He also uses plenty of foot notes, some of which take up half of the page of text! So you have to pay attention, but his words are worth attending to.

I highly recommend Inciting Joy, the perfect source for an essay to read relaxing on the porch in August, especially if you love poetry, pausing, and pondering. 4/5 stars

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett

I listened to the audiobook of Tom Lake, narrated by Meryl Streep, because a friend (also a mother of several children) said Streep did an excellent job. Of course she did. Tom Lake is the first published “COVID Book” I’ve read, and it chronicles how a mother and her three adult daughters interact after the children return to the family cherry orchard during COVID lock down. While performing the tiresome work of picking cherries, the girls beg their mother to recount the details of her long ago affair with the handsome young actor (eventually turned superstar) Peter Duke.

I could relate to the protagonist, Lara, the mother of grown or nearly grown children, having her family unexpectedly back home thanks to the pandemic of 2020. Her observations hit so close to my own experience that I often laughed or teared up while listening to Tom Lake. For example, in one scene, Lara’s daughters correct her (who can relate?), telling her when she describes her old flame Peter Duke as “nuts,” that she’s using a pejorative term, and she needs to come up with a “better word.”

Maisy gives a long exhale, which means that I am old, and she can’t explain anything to me.

Raise your hand if you know that kind of exhale.

In all, Tom Lake is an entertaining book, probably better for 50+ people who are parents. I don’t see 20-30 year olds getting the humor and resonance. Tom Lake has a lot to say about appreciating what you have. 4/5 stars

What Were We Thinking by Carlos Lozada

I enjoy Lozada’s cerebral contributions to the Matter of Opinion podcast, and after he mentioned his book What Were We Thinking: A Brief Intellectual History of the Trump Era, and since Trump might again find his way into The White House, I decided to take a listen.

Around the time he wrote What Were We Thinking, Lozada worked as a non-fiction book reviewer for The Washington Post. He has since joined The New York Times opinion section. In Thinking, Lozada pulls from150 pieces- books, essays, articles- to compile this intellectual history of the Trump presidency. I found it at times horrifying, at times enlightening, and at times a little slow. Recommended for those who care about politics and the cultural and political ideas that percolated during Trump’s years as America’s president. 3/5 stars

Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton

Birnam Wood was a nominee for best adult fiction in the 2023 Goodreads Choice Awards. My daughter recommended it to me, and I finished it (again, audio book) in less than a week. Described as a psychological thriller, Birnam Wood puts renegade squatter gardener Mira into an unlikely collaboration with a wealthy entrepreneur named Robert Lemoine. As daughter and I agreed, we didn’t necessarily like any of the characters, but their dialogue was clever and the ideas of Birnam Wood intriguing. The whole time listening, I had an uneasy sensation, kind of like I did while watching Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. And that’s where I’ll leave you… 3/5 stars

The Box in the Woods by Maureen Johnson

The Box in the Woods is book #4 of Johnson’s Truly Devious mystery series. It was nominated for a Goodreads Choice Award for YA fiction in 2021. The Box in the Woods has a particularly summer feel, as Stevie Bell, amateur sleuth, sets out to solve a cold case from 1978: four camp counselors were murdered in the woods outside of their camp in a quiet New England town where “nothing ever happens.” This short book is a nice addition to the series. I still enjoyed Stevie and her quirky friends. The mystery is interesting with out being too far fetched, and once again, I didn’t see the ending coming. Think of this solid series from Maureen Johnson as Agatha Christie for 21st century teens.

4/5 stars

All That’s Left to Say by Emery Lord

All That’s Left to Say, a YA contemporary by Emery Lord, gives another view of opioid addiction, this time through the eyes of a teen who has lost a beloved family member. Hannah MacLaren was shocked by death of her cousin Sophie and never suspected Sophie used drugs. In the wake of Sophie’s sudden and tragic death, Hannah embarks on a quest to discover who gave Sophie the pills that ended her life and why. Hannah goes to extreme efforts to solve the mystery of her cousin’s death, including transferring to a new school, changing her looks, and even using a burner phone- all while falling in love with her debate nemesis. In the process, Hannah comes to terms with some of her own flaws and learns how to process emotions in healthier ways. 

In All That’s Left to Say, author Emery Lord uses alternating timelines to keep up the suspense for readers. The story flips back and forth between Hannah’s junior year – when she was drowning in grief and struggling for answers- and her senior year, when Hannah employs more calculated efforts to reveal who is at fault for giving Sophie the pills that killed her. Some reviewers find the timeline flips confusing; I think they work to maintain tension. Lord also uses unanswered questions to keep readers turning pages:  who gave Sophie the pills? What happened between Hannah and Sophie’s best Gabby, and why aren’t they speaking any more? And, for those who like a little romance, will Hannah and Christian Daly get together?  3/5 stars

People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry

People We Meet on Vacation won the Goodreads Choice Award for best romance in 2021. I found it at random on my Kindle app, I think because my daughter got it. The vacation theme of this book, in which best friends travel together each summer, is fun and flirty, a quick indulgent read. Poppy is a care free writer who works for a travel magazine and delights in the unexpected. Alex, a high school teacher, prefers life predictable and quiet. They met at college and have surprisingly maintained a loyal friendship, that includes their annual vacations. But after they cross a line between friends and lovers, everything changes. This summer, Poppy wants to set things right. It’s a classic, predictable friends to lovers trope, but enjoyable. 3/5 stars

What have you read this summer? Any recommendations? Please share in the comments!

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!

Curious terms from the news you might wanna know

Image of someone looking at their phone.

Two terms have come up more than once in my podcast feed the past few months, and I’m wondering if you, like me, need a little help understanding them.

Ever heard of a trial balloon? How about what it means for something to be in parity? Let the Word Nerd clue you in, just in time for your weekend social engagements. You’ll be the smartest nerd at the party!

Trial balloon

I’ve heard the “new to me” term “trial balloon” used most recently by news commentators talking about how various November election candidates, including Republican Presidential nominee Donald Trump and presumptive Democratic Presidential nominee Kamala Harris, are launching various campaign trial balloons to see how they go over with the public.

According to Merriam-Webster, a trial balloon is a “a project or scheme tentatively announced in order to test public opinion.” I guess that makes sense, right? It’s like sending out a test idea to see how it floats. However, you might be surprised to learn the term trial balloon was first used way back in 1826!

Parity

Parity came up months ago on the Forward podcast, hosted by Andrew Yang, to describe the state of the potential presidential race between then assumed candidates Joe Biden and Donald Trump. Yang talked about votes or polling results coming “to parity.”

With the opening of the Olympic games, I’ve heard parity used more often. A story on NPR described how American swimmers, once dominant in the pool, were struggling in this year’s Olympic events. American swimmer Ryan Murphy, who won gold in the 100 meter backstroke in Rio in 2016, earned bronze in that same event this year. About rising competition around the world, Murphy said, “Really the parity internationally, it’s really competitive right now.”

Interestingly, parity has also gotten attention because the 2024 Paris games are the first to achieve “gender parity,” meaning there will be equal representation of male and female athletes. Notably, the 1900 Olympics, also hosted in Paris, were the first to allow women to participate. Now, 124 years later, there are finally the same number of women as men performing at the games, and women’s sports continue to get more recognition.

Parity comes from the Latin paritas, from par equal. It’s a noun that means he quality or state of being equal or equivalent. It also has a ton of meanings related to currency, but that’s not what we’re talking about here. It was first used in 1572! (Merriam-Webster)

If you’re interested in learning more about the history of women’s involvement in the Olympics, check out this article on NBC’s Olympics website. Pretty interesting, and it’s about time!

What interesting terms have you heard lately, from the Olympics, or otherwise?

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!

I finally read Hillbilly Elegy; now I understand the controversy

For years, I’ve been meaning to read Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance. This June, knowing Vance was on the short list for the Republican VP nomination, I finally tackled it. Hillbilly Elegy is a short read. To understand it best, you should read it yourself, but here are my thoughts to get you started.

The Premise

In Hillbilly Elegy, Vance describes his coming of age in Middletown, Ohio. His mother was a drug addict, and her parenting was erratic. Therefore, Vance was largely raised by his mother’s parents. Traumatic events and unpredictability colored Vance’s upbringing, but he also had two steady, if not perfect, family members watching over him, and he credits them for his success. As a young adult, Vance served in the Marines before he attended college at Ohio State and law school at Yale. Vance has a lot to say about his rise from Appalachian crisis, but unfortunately, he bases most of his assumptions on his own limited experience, and that’s where the book falls short.

What I liked

Vance’s writing is easy to read, and I was intrigued especially by the matriarch of his family, his maternal grandmother or “Mamaw.” Brusque and prone to profanity, Mamaw demonstrates strength and persistence. Vance credits his success to her sacrifices and support, as well he should. I was also intrigued by Vance’s assumptions about Appalachian attitudes on politics and government. For example, Vance says, “Much of my family’s, my neighborhoods, and my community’s identity derives from our love of country… If Mamaw’s second God was the United States of America, then many people in my community were losing something akin to a religion.”

This quote summarizes one of Vance’s keys points about Appalachia while also highlighting one of his memoir’s flaws: Vance takes what was true for his Mamaw and applies it to thousands of people, without data behind it. Hillbilly Elegy should have stuck to memoir and left the social commentary to someone who did more homework.

What I didn’t like

Vance’s experiences as a child growing up in Appalachia make for a compelling memoir along the lines of The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. However, problems arise when Vance uses his own narrow experience to describe an entire geographic area and a huge socio-economic demographic.

I prefer the perspective of author David Joy, who writes novels about the small town where he lives in western North Carolina. At a recent speaking event, Joy said, “People call me an Appalachian writer, but I’m not. I write what I know, which is about one small town in the mountains of North Carolina. Appalachia includes several states, and I don’t know anything about most of them.” In fact, according to the Appalachian Regional Commission, the Appalachian Region includes 423 counties across 13 states. That’s a lot more than Middletown, Ohio.

Criticisms of Hillbilly Elegy abound, including some from the late Frank Killgore, a lawyer from the coalfields of southwest Virginia. In 2022, Kilgore self-published a retort to Vance’s memoir titled J.D. Vance is a Fake Hillbilly. According to Dwayne Yancey of Cardinal News, Kilgore criticized Vance of dwelling on his own “unhappy upbringing and childhood” to smear the whole region of Appalachia. Kilgore worried that Vance’s best seller would deter desperately needed investment in the region.

Other criticisms include how Vance neglects to consider immigrants, people of color, and other marginalized groups in his social commentary.

I share the concerns of Kilgore and others. I’ve lived in southwest Virginia, a part of Appalachia, for over 23 years. Thanks to a job in home health, I’ve visited hollers and double wide trailers needing maintenance. As a school volunteer, I’ve read with children whose parents do not have the time or wherewithal to read with them at home. I don’t deny that poverty affects our region, but wealth does too, just not necessarily the material kind.

People matter here. When tragedy or illness strikes, community members gather around those suffering. If a fire destroys a home, clothes and furniture appear. If someone needs cancer treatment, neighbors provide food, offer child care, and cut the grass. People take pride in our community, and contrary to Vance’s generalizations about the white middle class, they work hard. Most of the farmers I know work two jobs, because farming alone doesn’t pay the bills. Students graduate from high school and train to become teachers, nurses, and accountants who return to serve the people they’ve known since toddlerhood. Local education programs offer pathways into good paying jobs in skilled labor and industry. There’s also a thriving creative culture that includes music and visual arts. If getting outside in nature is your jam, we’ve got gorgeous mountains to hike and rivers to paddle.

Word Nerd Recommendation

If you care about politics and society, give Hillbilly Elegy a read. Vance could be leading our country in a few months, and it would be good to familiarize yourself with his writing. However, I take Vance’s written, and spoken, words with a grain of salt. He was once a staunch critic of Trump, even comparing him to Hitler. Now he’s his running mate. In Hillbilly Elegy, Vance claims to be concerned about the plight of the white working class in Appalachia, but based on his current company, actions, and speeches, I fear the only person Vance cares about is himself.

Some other reviews of this controversial memoir:

Have you read Hillbilly Elegy? What did you like and dislike about it? Please note, I’m interested in discussion about the book, not broad political debate.

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!

How Boston’s Freedom Trail inspired me, just in time for July

I thought I knew a lot about the founding of our great nation. I’ve lived in Virginia for 45 years and grew up just outside of Washington, D.C.  My first job was at George Washington’s home, Mt. Vernon, and I attended The University Thomas Jefferson built. Monticello is one of my favorite places, for the gardens, the library, and Jefferson’s many inventions and interests. (Don’t worry, I’m also aware of Jefferson’s flaws, including his slave owning, his fathering of illegitimate children with slaves, and his snipping of Jesus’s miracles out of his Bible.) Over the years, I’ve wandered the dusty paths of Williamsburg and Jamestown several times, accompanying each of my four children during their epic FOURTH GRADE TRIP.

The point is, I thought I had this founding of our nation thing covered.

I was wrong.

Picture of the Old State House in Boston
The Old State House, Boston MA

I’ve never been to New England, so last month, our family took an adventure to Boston. My nephew lives there and recommended The Freedom Trail as a good way to get to know the city, and wow, I learned a ton. Washington, Jefferson, Madison, all great Virginians, did a lot for our country. But those people from Boston? Samuel Adams, Benjamin Franklin (was born there and later moved to Philly,) and Paul Revere? We wouldn’t have our liberty without them.

The Freedom Trail starts at the beautiful park called Boston Common, where English soldiers once ran drills in front of nervous Boston settlers. In the middle of the park, there’s a statue called “The Embrace,” made up of two sets of arms hugging. It honors Martin Luther King, Jr. and his wife, Coretta Scott King, and their legacy in Boston. The couple met in the city, and King gave a speech there in 1965. The Freedom Trail has a few stops near the park, then weaves through the city, leading curious followers past churches and meeting houses, the very spots where brave men gathered to plan resistance. Each stop on The Freedom Trail has a historical marker explaining its significance, and over the course of the two-and-a-half-mile walk, I developed a deeper appreciation for the boldness of the people of Boston.

Photo of The Embrace statue, Boston Common
The Embrace, Boston Common

I was struck by two things. First, I have not given Benjamin Franklin enough attention. Yes, Jefferson was and is considered a Renaissance man, but Franklin was just as, if not more, interesting. He invented many useful items, including lightning rods and bifocals, and established institutions critical to our democracy, such as the first public library. Hubby and I have already started watching the Apple TV Series “Franklin” (starring Michael Douglas), and I’m seeking recommendations for a good biography. (A friend suggested An American Life by Walter Issacson. Any others?)

The second revelation hit me in the shadow of the Old North Church tower. That’s where, in April 1775, Sexton Robert Newman lit lanterns- one if by land and two if by sea- to signal the arrival of British forces and send Paul Revere on his famous ride. If these everyday people could risk their lives to gain freedom, don’t we owe it to them to do whatever we can now to protect it?

Photo of Paul Revere's statue in front of the Old North Church tower
Paul Revere’s Statue with The Old North Church tower in the background

We complain a lot these days about the fractured state of our country and the stagnation of partisan politics. But surely, those people in Boston in the 1770s, living with British soldiers under their noses, had it worse. And they figured a way out. We can too.

Happy belated Fourth of July everyone, and let’s take this moment to consider the history of where we’ve been and use that to decide where we want to go.

Can you recommend any books about Franklin or Boston?

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!















Uncover a gripping novel that addresses racism with honesty

I’m a bit of a fan girl when it comes to authors. At a recent writing conference, I realized I was standing behind Jeff Zentner as I waited to check into the hotel. I almost tapped him on the shoulder to say hi, but restrained myself. Later, when he was signing a book for me, I gushed, “I’ve used a few of your novels as comp titles. I love your work.” He was friendly and appreciative.

This weekend, I’m going to have another opportunity to fan girl. David Joy, author of “southern grit” books that tackle tough issues like racism and the opioid crisis, is coming to my little town to speak at our little creative writing awards ceremony. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say about Those We Thought We Knew, his most recent release. To prepare, of course I read it. And here’s what I think of this well crafted novel that tackles the issue of racism in a small North Carolina town.

The Premise

Set in a small town in the mountains of Western North Carolina, Those We Thought We Knew explores the issue of racism with brutal honesty. However, author David Joy tackles this incendiary topic with nuance and deliberation, being careful to include multiple perspectives.

A young black woman named Toya visits Sylva, NC for the summer. She wants to finish her graduate art thesis and learn more about her heritage while living with her maternal grandmother. At the same time, a high-ranking member of the Klu Klux Klan also travels to Sylva with unclear motives. An act of vandalism at the local courthouse stirs up protest, followed promptly by a murder and a separate assault. The residents of Sylva, including its longstanding Sheriff, must wrestle with complicated questions, including the meaning behind a Confederate statue at the center of town, and the unspoken differences between black and white residents that have gone unacknowledged for years.

What I liked

Like in When These Mountains Burn, Joy skillfully manipulates pace and multiple points of view to keep readers engaged. Tension fills nearly every page, and I finished the novel in just three days. Joy uses natural elements such as fire, rain, and snakes to deepen his descriptions and tie the story to its mountain setting. The characters are well developed and compelling, and the dialogue is snappy, contributing to the brisk pace.

Here’s how one of his main characters, Toya, uses a metaphor to describe racism:

The tree with the deepest roots in this country is a tree of White supremacy. And the things is, you don’t have to be the one who planted that tree… to be someone who directly benefits from the shade it provides. There’s a whole lot of people sitting comfortably under that tree, and some of them recognize where they’re sitting and just won’t do anything about it because they like where they’re sitting, and then there are are some of them who won’t even acknowledge that the tree’s there at all. Maybe they don’t acknowledge it because they can’t see it, or maybe they just don’t want to see it, but in the end none of that matters because they’re all benefiting from the same thing.

Those We Thought We Knew, David Joy

I’ve seen Those We Thought We Knew described as “bracingly honest.” Joy’s prose embraces nuance, carefully dissecting the many layers of how we think about and discuss (or don’t discuss) race. His characters struggle both internally and in their interactions with others to figure out how they feel about race. And so does any reader paying the slightest bit of attention. It’s a sobering exercise.

What I didn’t like

Some aspects of the plot felt “convenient” or unbelievable. I don’t want to give anything away, but at a few points, I had to suspend some disbelief to buy how things unfolded. However, I enjoyed the story and its themes enough to overlook these flaws. The deft handling of racism, and other potent aspects of life, including grief, and complicated family dynamics, make Those We Thought We Knew a worthwhile read.

Recommendation

Readers who are “tired of being hit over the head” about racism should probably skip this novel. But it’s such an important issue for our time, I hope you will consider reading Those We Thought We Knew.  I love reading and contemplating issues surrounding racism, and some of my other favorite fiction books about this topic include Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult, and Paradise and The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison.

Thanks for getting nerdy with me!