The cover of Daniel Wallace’s newest book, The Kings and Queens of Roam, is rainbows and butterflies; two silhouetted girls meet on a bridge spanning a bottomless valley; the text is made from twisted grasses. The story within, however, is not quite as picturesque.

The contemporary fairytale follows the insular lives of two orphaned sisters–one blind and beautiful, the other able to see, but ugly–as they press against the edges of their dying small town. The sisters are the last descendants of the town’s founder–a man who imported silk worms to the isolated valley, set on carving from the thick woods a paradise. The silkworms, however, did not take to their new home.

The town in the time of the sisters is far from a paradise; ghosts are taking up residence in the decaying opulence. Dogs run in packs through the streets. In this vivid setting, the sisters must rely on each other to survive, but their faults begin to overshadow their virtues as they grow older. Daniel Wallace weaves a complex story of jealousy and trust–the battle all sisters fight–until the conflict spills out over the edges of the town.

As he did in Big Fish and Mr. Sebastian and the Negro Magician, Wallace continues to expolore the nature of truth, revealing again that it is not what is seen but what is believed.

Daniel Wallace will be at Lemuria this Friday (May 10th) to read and sign his new book. Come out for $1 beers and a good time at 5 PM.

With the graduating season upon us, I’ve started thinking back to where I was when I graduated high school and college. Even then I was in love with books and as the first child in my family:

a.) I had no idea what I was doing and
b.) neither did my mom. [Sorry mom, I still love you:)] So we looked to books.

There weren’t that many great ones, but it was still nice to know that we weren’t crazy, that other people had asked the same kinds of questions we were asking. Learning how to be an adult isn’t something they teach you in school, and yet, we are all supposed to magically transform into one.

So since those deer in the headlights days, I have kept my eye out for books that would have helped. The lovely Whitney put together a Great Gifts for Grads table the other day and I saw it: the perfect book: Adulting: How to Become a Grown-up in 468 Easy(ish) Steps by Kelly William Brown.

Based on her blog by the same name, this book has everything from how to wash a cast iron skillet, to what to do when you can hear the neighbors loudly playing music at 6am. This is one of those books that you want to say your reading because it’s funny, but you’re really technically maybe, ok probably, reading it because you’re unsure if you should have written that nice person a thank you note or not.

So for all those grads (little brother, you have been warned. The book shaped present you receive soon is this) or 20 somethings in your life who have already read Defining Decade and still have no idea what they are doing with their lives, this is their book. At least then they will be properly aimless.

Frank X Walker’s newest book of poetry, Turn Me Loose: The Unghosting of Medgar Evers is an exploration into the people and events surrounding the murder of Medgar Evers.

Michelle Hite notes in her introduction that “Walker’s poems paint a vivid picture of Mississippi macabre but also of the elegance that black people make of their life there.”

So much of Medgar Evers’ contribution to the Civil Rights Movement, not only in Mississippi but in the country, has been overlooked. Walker puts us right in the middle of the people surrounding his life and death–Myrlie and Charles Evers, Willie  and Byron de le Beckwith.

Medgar doesn’t have a voice on the pages; his presence is in the voices of the people survived by him. His life was cut short on the pages as in life.

One Third of 180 Grams of Lead

Both of them were history, even before one
pulled the trigger, before I rocketed through
the smoking barrel hidden in the honeysuckle
before I tore through a man’s back, shattered

his family, a window, and tore through an inner wall
before I bounced off a refrigerator and a coffeepot
before I landed at my destined point in history
–next to a watermelon. What was cruel was the irony

not the melon, not he man falling in slow motion,
but the man squinting through the crosshairs
reducing the justice system to a small circle, praying
that he not miss, then sending me to deliver a message

as if the woman screaming in the dark
or the children crying at her feet
could ever believe
a bullet was small enough to hate.

Turn Me Lose is a unique collection of poems, in the spirit of Rita Dove’s Thomas and Beulah. Residing for a couple of verses in someone else’s skin reminds us of how similar we all really are.

I read The Yellow Birds when it first came out last September. This novel has just come out in paperback and I am going to be rereading it this month. I don’t reread books very often, only the very best, and this book is getting it’s second reading faster than any book I’ve ever read. Kevin Powers’ debut novel is not the typical good book, it’s a stunningly beautiful book full of love and horror – the prose is simply a work of high art. Powers has stunned and challenged me with his ability. If you haven’t read this book, whether you’ve been awaiting its paperback version or by some miracle have not heard of it, come by Lemuria today and get your next i’ve-got-to-read-this-book-again book.

Also, check my precious post on this book HERE.

In breathless anticipation of Baz Luhrmann’s newest creation, a film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s roaring classic The Great Gatsby, the world is ready to don it’s drop waist dresses and dive into swimming pools of gin. Ready to light the way is Alison Maloney and her storehouse of Jazz Age wisdom with her new book Bright Young Things: A Modern Guide to the Roaring Twenties.

Although improbable and not what you expected on a Monday, you have been sucked into the 1920s through some rift in time. You look so silly in your skinny jeans there. You probably looked silly in your skinny jeans here too, but triple that in your new time. You need to find some new clothes ASAP and Maloney’s got your back. “Choose a simple slip dress or one with a drop waist for optimal movement,” she says, “adorn yourself with feathers, faux fur, or lace to add a hint of extravagance”. Gentlemen, a little something for you too: Never leave your house without a hat. You can never have too many ties, bow ties, or ascots. And you aren’t allowed to wear skinny jeans either. Put on your wide, pleated trousers (“Oxford bags”)  and remember: hat. Put on your hat.

When you’re properly dressed you can party– and trust me, there will be plenty of shenanigans to get into. Just to be sure you get into more than your fair share, Maloney provides drink recipes from the era. Let me just say, it’s gin, gin, and more gin. You’ll also be given a list of slang terms so that you can flummox your chaperone, hints for which famous faces to look out for, and a pile of music to put on your playlist- er, I mean record player.

If it’s naughty to rouge your lips,

shake your shoulders and shake your hips,

then the answer is, I wanna be bad!

–Buddy DeSylva, “I Want to be Bad”

This book is such a fun refresher on the wild, carefree, booze filled days of the Jazz Age. Split into delightful little chapters that chronicle all facets of the time period, this book is less of a bland history project, more of a historically correct party-planning guide perfect for your kitchen, living room, or bedside table. And gosh, such great illustrations too.