Where the Forest Meets the Stars

 

Where the Forest Meets the Stars 

by Glendy Vanderah 

My book club friends would probably say I read this book simply because Jo is an ornithologist…an expert on birds…and I tend to choose books with birds on the cover or in the storyline. I didn’t even realize I did that until they pointed it out. Funny revelation.

The book itself is part contemporary fiction, part sci-fi…or maybe part soap opera, part fairy tale. Quick synopsis: a little girl lost from the stars, a woman reclaiming herself after illness, and a man burdened by his mind and family. Each of them discovers life and love in spite of their individual traumas. There’s a forest. A constellation. An alien girl?

Before she can return to her alleged planet, Ursa must witness five miracles. She latches onto Jo, an ornithologist and cancer survivor, who’s spending the summer doing research at a remote cabin. Concerned for Ursa’s safety, Jo allows her to stay temporarily. Jo also meets Gabriel, her reclusive neighbor, and soon the two are working together to figure out what to do about Ursa. A slow-burn romance develops between Jo and Gabe.

What follows is a series of domestic, lovey-dovey drama where the leads play house and play parents to Ursa, wrapped in a cliché love story that glosses over the fact that both characters have significant trauma and mental health issues to work through. There’s also a mystery element centered around uncovering the truth about Ursa’s past. She appears out of nowhere and resists every attempt to return her home. Instead of calling the authorities, Jo decides to take her in.

We’re never told definitively whether Ursa is truly an alien or if her story is a coping mechanism for her trauma...but deep down, we know. Personally, I think the story could’ve ended after she witnessed her fifth miracle and said she had to leave. If she had died in that moment, it could’ve closed with a haunting ambiguity: “Did the little girl just die? Or did she return to the stars?” That would’ve been powerful. But instead, we get another 50 pages of detectives unraveling the mystery, explaining every detail, and tying it all up with a happily-ever-after ending.

Ultimately, it’s a story about love in all its forms, and the healing process of broken hearts and broken lives. It’s about finding a way to live that allows for the acceptance of love. Broken people searching for healing, for something…or someone…to believe in.

Maybe love isn’t the answer to everything, but sometimes, love really is all you need.

Local Woman Missing

 

Local Woman Missing

By Mary Kubica

Local Woman Missing is a gripping psychological thriller that is intense and suspenseful.  It felt like a rollercoaster ride at times… filled with twists and turns.

“Behind every smile lies a story, and not all of them have happy endings.”

This quote from the book encapsulates its emotional depth. It’s a powerful reminder that beneath every cheerful facade may lie a hidden narrative…one shaped by pain, resilience, and complexity. The story urges empathy, highlighting that life isn’t always neat or fair, and not every tale ends happily.

This book explores themes of loss, family dynamics, trauma, and the dangers lurking beneath seemingly ordinary lives.

Shelby Tebow vanishes late one night while out for a jog. Meredith Dickey and her six-year-old daughter, Delilah, disappeared shortly thereafter, just blocks away from where Shelby was last seen. 

Fast forward 11 years, and Delilah shockingly returns, sparking renewed questions as to the true nature of all three disappearances.

Throughout the story, the characters face various challenges and traumatic experiences, yet they all display a remarkable ability to bounce back and find the strength to keep going. This resilience is portrayed as an essential quality that helps them cope with their circumstances and ultimately find closure.

The book explores the discovery of long-buried secrets and their role in the plot. It serves as a reminder that even seemingly ordinary lives can hide dark secrets, and that these secrets can have far-reaching consequences.

The book shows the power of community in times of crisis. As the investigation unfolds, the community bands together and supports one another, forming a tight bond that tends to unravel the mysteries surrounding the disappearances. 

There are plenty of secrets in this neighborhood, and plenty of suspects to choose from

This book is a masterclass in psychological suspense. It’s not just about solving a mystery…it’s about understanding the people behind it. Honestly, I thought I had figured it all out before I was halfway through the book.  But then in the last 100 pages…it turned out I knew absolutely nothing.

In the end…it felt like a good whodunnit.

Let Them

 

Let Them

Mel Robbins

Are you someone who reads self-help books? I try...but usually don’t finish them. I follow Mel on Instagram and have listened to a few of her podcasts. After seeing this book constantly advertised, I spotted it at Goodwill and couldn't pass it up.

Honestly, it felt like it could’ve been an email. That said, I appreciated her vulnerability…especially the way she shared her family dynamics and real-life struggles with such honesty.

At its core, the book reminds us that we alone are responsible for our successes and failures, our happiness and misery. It’s all about reclaiming your power by focusing on what you can control…especially your response to life’s challenges.

There were insights on how to handle change, improve relationships, and manage the need for control. While none of it felt groundbreaking, there were a few solid reminders to stay grounded in yourself and your own choices.

The “Let Me” aspect of the “Let Them” theory is where things get interesting. That’s what shifts you from emotionally checking out to becoming an empowered player in your own life. The theory invites you to stop letting others dictate your reality. Let them…whoever they are…think, do, and feel what they want...and you keep being you.

We’ll always face unpleasant situations. “Let Them” happen…life isn’t fair. But “Let Me” choose how to respond.

I do think the concept holds power. Ultimately, it feels like a reframe of boundaries…not as tools to control others, but as commitments to yourself. It’s a call to let go of what isn’t yours to fix and to step up for what is.

Would I recommend this book? Maybe. It felt repetitive at times, and parts were a bit obvious. But hey…Let Her do her thing. Let Me let you decide if it’s worth your time. Because at the end of the day, YOU are in charge.

LET THEM! 

LET ME!

Broken Country

 

Broken Country

By Clare Leslie Hall

The Book... What a Wild Ride

When I finished the last page, I just sat there in silence. I couldn’t move. I texted my book club: THE BOOK!!!...because honestly, I didn’t have the words. It was too much. I felt emotionally wrung out.

This story was a rollercoaster. A heartbreaking love story layered with pain, drama, and devastation. Every decision rippled outward. Beth, were you even paying attention?

We're all flawed humans stumbling through life. But when I shut the book, I was stuck between rolling my eyes and trying not to judge. Can you really love two people? Why didn’t Beth tell Gabriel? Why was Gabriel’s mother so awful? How did Frank forgive so easily…and why did he take the fall for Leo? And Beth…how does she live with herself?

Set in the haunting beauty of the English countryside, the story unfolds in dual timelines. Beth’s peaceful life with her husband Frank is shattered by a single gunshot…aimed at her first love’s dog. Gabriel’s sudden return unravels everything. Long-buried secrets claw their way to the surface, forcing Beth to confront the choices that shaped her path.

This book hits every note: grief and loss, love and betrayal, family drama, a tangled love triangle, coming-of-age moments, and a murder trial that draws out the gossiping locals. It’s part sweeping romance, part legal drama, part baffling mystery…and that final twist? I closed the book with my mouth hanging open. I never saw it coming.

Maybe the title speaks to the countryside fractured by tragedy. Or maybe it’s the country of Beth’s heart…shattered beyond repair.

All in all, it’s messy, wild, emotionally draining…and I think…it’s absolutely worth reading.

The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot

 

The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot

By Marianne Cronin

“Somewhere in the world are the people who once touched us, loved us, or ran from us—and in that, we endure. Visit the places we’ve been, and you might meet someone who brushed past us in a corridor, then forgot us before we were even gone. We’re captured in the edges of strangers’ photographs—talking, laughing, blurring into the background of a picture that now rests on a mantel in a room we’ve never seen. And in that too, we endure. But it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough to have been a fleeting fragment of the great expanse of existence. I want more. We want more. We want to be known. To have our stories remembered, our names spoken, our essence felt. Even after we're gone, we want the world to know who we were.”

That quote from the book really stayed with me…don’t you think it’s fascinating? It makes me wonder… do you ever struggle with the idea of death, or what might come after?

I spent the last thirty days of my dad’s life by his side. He was scared. I remember him looking at me and said, “Don’t forget me.”

I haven’t. Not for one single day.

I still talk to him...about my doctor’s appointments, about the little things. I think of all the questions I wish I’d asked him while he was still here.

About the book...seventeen-year-old Lenni knows she won’t be leaving the hospital alive. Living with a terminal illness, she clings fiercely to her identity and spark, fighting to stay whole in a body worn down by disease and drugs. Though confined within sterile walls, bound by hospital rules and indifferent staff (I’m looking at you, Jackie), Lenni is still very much alive…and determined to live.

She’s not alone. Lenni is surrounded by people drawn to her light, none more so than 83-year-old Margot, a fellow patient recovering from heart surgery, with more procedures ahead. The two first connect when Lenni helps Margot discreetly retrieve something from a recycling bin, orchestrating a distraction with mischievous charm. Soon after, Lenni finds a loophole into the art class “for eighty and up” just so she can keep spending time with her.

To mark the combined 100 years, they’ve spent on this earth, Lenni and Margot decide to paint the stories of their lives…stories of growing old and staying young, giving joy, receiving kindness, losing love, and finding that one person who means everything.

Despite its premise…a book about death and dying…this story radiates love, joy, and life. It’s a tribute to unexpected friendships, the kind we long for without knowing we’re missing them. It reminds us that in the end, what matters isn’t just what we do with life, but who we share it with.

Much of the narrative is through Margot’s eyes: her loving father, haunted by war; a marriage strained and broken by grief; a love unreciprocated; a soul-deep connection that endured three decades. Through Margot’s stories and paintings, Lenni gets to experience the full arc of a life she won’t get to live. In return, she helps Margot reckon with what’s behind her…and what still lies ahead, should she survive the next surgery.

As their canvases fill with color and memory, we see their lives in vivid detail. From Lenni, we learn about her first and only kiss, the heartbreak of an alcoholic mother, the father she pushes away. From Margot, we see a marriage undone after the death of a child, the woman named Meena who offered salvation, and Humphrey, who taught her to love the stars…a gift she later passes on to Lenni.

One unforgettable moment captures the essence of this bond: Margot and Lenni outside beneath the stars.  “I find it so peaceful,” Margot says softly. “Me too.”  Then, after a pause, “Do you know the stars we see most clearly are already dead?”  “Well, that’s depressing,” Lenni replies, pulling away.  Margot gently links her arm through Lenni’s. “No, it’s not depressing. It’s beautiful. They’ve been gone for who knows how long… but we can still see them. They live on.”

What’s extraordinary about The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot is how it turns what should be a story about dying into one about life. The humor, the quiet rebellion, the art class…it’s a reminder that even in the face of finality, we can create something lasting. Just like stars: already gone...but still lighting our nights.

Dad...I will carry your light forward…just like those stars…you live on.

 Doyle Winford Ramey 

 June 16, 1928 -- October 22, 2010

Biochemist, food enthusiast, wine maker, loved all things French, adored his grandchildren and embraced life with a deep curiosity and wonder. 

Remarkably Bright Creatures

 

Remarkably Bright Creatures

Shelby Van Pelt

Have you read this? I found it remarkably enjoyable…and the cover instantly drew me in. It’s one of those easy, compulsively readable page-turners you take to the beach or pick up between heavier reads.

If it’s not on your radar yet, the heart of the story lies with Tova Sullivan, a widow bearing the quiet weight of long-held grief, and Marcellus, a cantankerous yet wise Pacific octopus harboring his own secrets. Yes, an octopus. I was absolutely charmed by Marcellus: his cleverness, his perceptiveness, his unwavering curiosity. The bond he forms with Tova is quietly powerful and unexpectedly moving. Their shared story truly stole the show for me.

There’s another main character…a thirty-something wandering soul in search of his biological father…but I didn’t connect with his side of the narrative. His choices often felt more adolescent than adult, and his arc lacked the emotional resonance I found in Tova and Marcellus.

At its core, this is a love story…though not in the traditional sense. It’s a tale of lonely people who slowly build a small world of connection and support around each other.

Tova and Marcellus’s relationship is the one I’ll remember. They develop a sort of wordless understanding. Tova shares her past in fragments, while Marcellus, perceptive as he is, notices the weight she carries…and, in a quietly beautiful gesture, begins leaving her little gifts. That’s what won me over.

It reminded me of my cat, Ozzy, who brings me “stuffies” each night…sometimes even leaves them by the front door when I’m working late. It’s the sweetest ritual. He must spend all night ferrying them from the lanai to the foot of my bed. Each night, before I go to sleep, I gather them up and return them to the basket, and he follows me, probably thinking, “Seriously? All that effort?” But I cherish it. Every morning I tell him how much I love it. We’re moving soon, and I worry this magical little habit might fade.

This story…with its oddball premise, unpredictable turns, and tender charm…completely pulled me in. It left me smiling, reminded me that love and family can be found in the most unconventional ways, and that healing often comes not in sweeping gestures, but in small, quiet acts of kindness.

“As a general rule, I like holes. A hole at the top of my tank gives me freedom. But I do not like the hole in her heart… Tova’s heart. I will do everything I can to help her fill it.”

Stuffies from Ozzy

Demon Copperhead

 

Demon Copperhead 

By Barbara Kingsolver

We all know that some books entertain, others educate, and many inform...but the ones I love the most are those that transport you to another place, another era, another culture. Few stories linger long after the final page, but Demon Copperhead did just that for me.

I consider myself fortunate. Born in the early 1970s to a middle-class family that valued education, going to church on Sundays, a father who worked full-time, and a family who…quirks and all…looked after one another.  I didn’t always get what I wanted but I always had enough. Most importantly, we never questioned that we were loved.

This book is the exact opposite of my childhood.  It is bold and emotionally charged, this novel reimagines Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield in the heart of Appalachia. Told through the voice of Damon Fields, known as “Demon,” it follows his harrowing, heartfelt journey from a chaotic childhood into a turbulent coming-of-age shaped by poverty, addiction, and systemic neglect in rural Virginia.

Demon calls his childhood a “four-star shitshow”—a brutal mix of poverty, drugs, abuse, death, and despair. While reading it... I felt that despair. What fascinated me, though, was his relentless will to survive. Demon is heartbreakingly resilient. He’s sharp, funny even in the darkest moments, and his observations cut right to the bone.

If addiction is a triggering topic, this may not be the book for you. It lays out the opioid crisis and the abandonment of rural communities, while anchoring its power in deeply personal struggles—grief, foster care, the battle for self-worth. It’s unflinchingly harsh at times but dotted with startling beauty and grace. Like watching someone take blow after blow, only to be thrown a lifeline just before going under.

“I got up every day thinking the sun was out there shining, and it could just as well shine on me as any other human person.”

That line lands like a quiet triumph. It’s not just hope…it’s a declaration that light and belonging aren’t reserved for the chosen. It speaks to a gentle kind of resilience: the kind that whispers, I matter, even when the world fails to say it back. There’s something profoundly human in waking up and deciding the light might shine your way today.  Never give up.  It always seems that right when you are about to…the magic happens.

In the end…he reconnects with people who care about him and starts to find meaning in art and storytelling. The novel closes not with a neat resolution and Demon isn’t “fixed,” but he’s moving forward, learning to believe that he deserves light, love, and a life beyond survival.  

It’s not a fairy-tale ending, but it’s deeply human.  

All I can say is…Demon Copperhead lived one hell of a life.