I enjoy Stewart O'Nan's writing style. He has a unique ability making the reader want to look into the window he has created of an ordinary person's life and thoughts.Emily is a elderly widow who is detached from her children and grandchildren and has outlived her husband most of her friends. S...
Kim Larsen was an ordinary teenager, she had just graduated high school and was living her last ordinary summer before leaving for college. She slept late, spent time with her sister, went swimming with her friends, and made plans to meet up with them again later after her work shift. And then ...
I can understand some of the bad reviews. If you are expecting a mystery or thriller you will be disappointed. If you can't stand not having answers you will be left frustrated. This book is actually a drama about not so much the missing girl but her family and friends and how they deal with t...
There are times you don’t like something, but can’t really put your finger on the reason. Take Mexican food. No matter how well it is prepared, how fresh the ingredients, or how wonderful the recipe, it’s all pretty average to me. You can place before me the finest Mexican feast in all the land, ...
I am O'Nan fan through and through. After reading "Last Night at the Lobster," I knew I would read anything he wrote. Warning: this is a big fat book in which almost nothing happens. A lot of readers will put it down when it becomes clear that the plot is little more than what happens when a fami...
This is the second novel I've read by Stewart O'Nan, after Last Night at the Lobster. While I enjoyed Lobster," it really is a trifle compared to Snow Angels, which is an immensely quiet, powerful book. Essentially, it tells the story of two relationships, both disintegrating, set against the bac...
THE SPEED QUEEN! I don't know why, but for some reason before reading this I thought it was going to be about racing, like NASCAR or something. Thank god it wasn't. Instead it was about Speed, i.e. crystal meth!! YAY! In particular, it was about a woman on death row in Oklahoma, who was nick...
"The Vietnam Reader" is a selection of the finest and best-known art from the American war in Vietnam, including fiction, nonfiction, poetry, drama, film, still photos, and popular song lyrics. All the strongest work is here, from mainstream bestsellers to radical poetry, from Tim O'Brien to Marv...
Stewart O'Nan has been called the bard of the working class and has now crafted a frank and funny yet emotionally resonant tale set within a vivid workaday world seldom seen in contemporary fiction.Perched in the far corner of a run-down New England mall, the Red Lobster hasn't been making its nu...
Supposedly the target had been CID headquarters, brimming with intelligence and weapons and possible hostages, but the operation had been called off, most likely because of the weather. The government station reported that several power facilities had been attacked. Perforce, the Haganah denied a...
He hung from the top row and dropped down. He'd come with Axel Carlson, an older man, a distant cousin of his grandfather. When Donald reached the ground he couldn't find him anywhere. A mob of people were trying to squeeze out the northwest exit beside the chute, crawling all over one another—do...
He lay face-up in the center of the trail, a slim, dead, almost dainty young man. He had bony legs, a narrow waist, long shapely fingers. His chest was sunken and poorly muscled—a scholar, maybe. His wrists were the wrists of a child. He wore a black shirt, black pajama pants, a gray ammunition b...
THE JUDGE gives Tommy the maximum, just like he said. Gary gets off with five years’ probation and time served. When Patty hears this, she calls Donna. “We’re sorry,” a recorded voice answers. “The number you have reached is not in service at this time. Please check that you have dialed the numbe...
“Hunh,” he said, remarking on a crater round and sharp as a smallpox scar. The moon itself was nearly full, just a lip missing. It seemed too close to Harold, a fat gold coin in the cold night air, peeking over the row of town houses across the street, painting the leaves of Miss Fisk’s hedges si...
He’d sworn off even beer, and the ceaseless drumming and swaying infiltrated him like a sickness. He wrote Scottie and Ober and Max, read and smoked and slept. At breakfast Palm Springs shimmered like a mirage. After the salt wastes of the desert the Sierras were a welcome respite, the crawling a...