The Monday Book: NIGHT GARDEN by Carrie Mullins

carrie mullinsI bought this book at the recent Appalachian Studies Association Conference, after a mutual friend introduced me to Carrie and announced it was her publication day. I’m glad I did, as I enjoyed Carrie’s writing. Very descriptive, which is not usually my thing, but the characters are well-drawn, which is.

The protagonist is a teen girl with a dead brother, difficult parents, and a teacher who helps her score substances. So it’s only natural that soon after she should have a boyfriend who edges toward emotionally abusive, and women around her who urge her to understand. The dysfunction here is told in third person but primarily from her point of view as she struggles to believe that Bobo (her boyfriend) loves her, that being pregnant isn’t so bad, that she has a good life. That she can get out.

It’s a story with a lot of detail in how the people live, and a building sense of emotional dread mixed with resignation and strength. You’re not really sure how it’s going to end, and I’m not putting any spoilers in here. If you like Appalachian dysfunction, delicate touches on tough subjects, or descriptive novels, NIGHT GARDEN is for you.

The Monday Book: THE MOUNTAINTOP SCHOOL FOR DOGS AND OTHER SECOND CHANCES by Ellen Cooney

mountaintopschool-bookThis is kind of a stream of consciousness book, but it has three of my favorite things in it: cool characters, dogs, and a redemption theme. Evie leaves her drug rehab program without completing it and lies her way into a job at a dog rescue, run by four ex-nuns at the top of the mountain. At the bottom is Mrs. Auberchon, a basket case in her own right, who is the rescue warden and runs an Inn. She’s a hoot. You kind of wish you didn’t like her.

The dogs are their own characters, each with a story of how she or he was liberated or dropped to the rescue. What might sound like it would be predictable as a plot is written in such a quirky way, you really can’t always tell what’s going on. This is one of those edgy books that doesn’t even get close to sentimental because it’s too busy startling you.

Here’s a quote to give you an idea of Cooney’s weird, wild writing style: “Sometimes when dogs greeted a returning soldier, they’d go over the edge. They would have to take a few moments to run crazily in circles around the human, or around a room or a yard. I’d have to take a break from watching, so my brain had a chance to absorb what I was seeing: that there is such a thing as joy being bigger than the container that holds it.”

Two paws up, no opposable thumbs.