As a rule I like kid narrators.  I read a lot of them. An embarrassingly high percentage of the books I read are YA and most young adult novels feature a first-person narrator between the ages of 14 and 17.

This week, I met sixteen-year-old Jacob whom I accompanied on a quest to

On the heels of consuming several smarty pants books, I’m hungry for plot candy. Now feed me a story with action, imagination, and maybe a little sweet romance, please.

Don’t get me wrong. I love good character-driven literary fiction, too. I mean, I just finished a marvelously lyrical memoir by Sonja

*big sigh* Monday begins.

But my head is still back relaxing in my computer-free weekend in Sequim, Washington.

In addition to celebrating (belatedly) the birthday of a family member, I caught up on some reading.

Right before driving out on Friday night, I pulled from my “almost overdue” pile of library books  MariNaomi’s

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Nayelli wants to take a shower. She needs one, actually. It’s been two days.

Two days since she’s had a sanity break—free from kid noises, hands pulling at her clothes, and everyone wanting to be held. Nayelli needs self-time, just warm water and steam and blank walls and her body standing

This is my first Hot Pink Underwear story. About this girl who quit her job during a huge recession. Maybe this is a true story. Anyway, this first part’s boring. She starts a grad program then loses a leg to gangrene and adopts a circus monkey named Popo. Maybe that’s fiction.

I should