Val Muller

A few years ago, a student of mine recommended this book. I bought it, stuck it on my TBR pile, and started reading it over the summer. I enjoyed it, but it got swept into a box when I decided to paint the bedroom, so I had about half of the book to read when I found it again earlier this month. Though I generally prefer fiction to nonfiction, this book had me laughing out loud multiple times–to the extent that my husband kept looking at me funny and asking “Are you okay? Oh… you’re just reading again!”

The book follows author Bill Bryson as he attempts to hike the Appalachian Trail. He’s over his prime, and hiking is a challenge for him, but his spirit is strong, and his eye for humorous observation is keen. The humor is augmented when his only companion is an unlikely man who is ill-suited to life on the trail.

Bryson alternates between recounting his experiences on the trail with (usually) interesting facts about plants, animals, the history of the trail, the US government and state organizations (especially the departments responsible for the trail), and other historical and educational tidbits. These were interesting and relayed with humor, so they were usually engaging to read.

The only time I got a little bored was when Bryson accounts his time in Pennsylvania. At this point on the trail, he took to day hikes and checking out local attractions rather than focusing on the trail. While parts of this was interesting, I wished he would just get back on the trail, already (interestingly enough, he wished the same thing).

When I mentioned to a coworker that I was finishing up the book, I learned that it had been made into a film that was currently in theatres. So of course I had to go see it. The film was funny as well, and I thought the two main characters did a decent job capturing the spirit of the book (especially Katz, Bryson’s companion). The film shortened the book (which is long at almost 400 pages) but kept the important elements, interactions, themes—and even some of the most important “lines” from the novel. It’s not a 100% substitution for reading the book, but as far as book-to-screen translations go, this one came close.

What I enjoyed most about the book was vicariously living through someone’s experience on the Appalachian Trail. It’s something I’ve thought about doing once in a while in my life, but practical considerations always seem to get in the way. If the physical challenge isn’t enough, who has several months to devote solely to hiking?

Since Bryson did get me to consider doing at least part of the trail someday—and I do mean only a small part—I liked that he included a list of suggested readings in the back. But interest in the Appalachian Trail aside, I recommend this book for anyone looking to gain an appreciation of nature while being entertained and—ironically—not having to set foot outside one’s home. It’s true that since I’ve read the book, I have more of a keen eye for nature and water features. I live relatively close to the Appalachian Trail, and each time I pass by certain roads, I keep my eyes open for the hikers that I occasionally spot, sporting heavy packs and scraggly hair. Whereas once they were simply a neutral feature of the road, now I look upon them with a bit of awe and a bit of admiration.

Sharyn McCrumb was the banquet speaker at Longwood University’s Summer Literacy Institute, and I enjoyed hearing her speak. In preparation for hearing her, I wanted to read one of her back-list titles, so I chose The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter, a title from 1992.

McCrumb is known as a writer of Appalachian fiction, both historical and contemporary. This novel follows several characters in Dark Hollow, Tennessee. At first I thought the characters and their stories might be related only tangentially, but as the novel progresses, it becomes clear that they are part of a poignant and interwoven quilt that adds depth to each character and adds life to the town of Dark Hollow.

My favorite character is Nora Bonesteel. She is gifted with “the Sight” and is able to see glimpses of the future, though she is unable to do anything about it. For instance, she might create a quilt that illustrates a series of gravestones, and although she may know who is going to die, she is powerless to prevent it. She plays an important role in foreshadowing throughout the story, especially as we come to know her and the other characters better.

Laura Bruce is a mid-thirties preacher’s wife left to tend to the “flock” by herself while her husband serves overseas in his role as preacher. She is pregnant and feels out of place and is looking to find a sense of belonging—both in the community and in her religion. It is appropriate that her husband is absent the entire time, for it allows her to focus on her personal growth without relying on him as a crutch, or someone who will define her for her.

There are other characters as well—there’s Tavy Annis and Taw McBryde. At first I thought their story was randomly thrown in there, but keep faith: it, too, weaves into the larger tapestry. Tavy is dying of cancer, and he believes it’s the result of chemicals being dumped into the river by a North Carolina water company. He begins his dying crusade to right this wrong.

There’s also the Underhill family—four of them have been killed in a murder-suicide, and the remaining two (teenagers) are left to fend for themselves. Their case is a strange one, and no one seems to give them the full attention they deserve until things escalate out of hand.

There are several other characters as well, and they all add depth and flavor to the town. Their stories help to develop the novel. The final page ended in a satisfying way—bittersweet, expected, and unexpected at the same time.

During the author’s talk, I enjoyed hearing about history from a local perspective–and the ways certain people or events tend to be left out of history textbooks. Since the Revolutionary War is one of my favorite time periods to think about, I purchased one of McCrumb’s newer books, King’s Mountain, at the signing event, and I look forward to reading it soon.

I had the honor of hearing Cushman speak at the Shenandoah University Children’s Literature Conference this year on the day I was presenting a workshop. Her writing journey amazed me because she waited until age 50 to start writing because she realized until that point, she hadn’t had anything she needed to say.

The Midwife’s Apprentice is one of her most famous books. The story follows a “tween” (I guess we could call her that, though that term is a rather modern one) who finds herself homeless in medieval England. She sleeps in dung heaps to keep warm in the colder months, earning the nickname “Beetle” as a result. On a constant search for food and warmth, she finds herself in a variety of roles: the object of boys’ bullying, a midwife’s apprentice, a helper at a local eatery, and even an unexpected student of letters. Throughout the novel, her one true friend is her cat, Purr, who follows her around.

She is not an overtly strong protagonist, but she has a quiet inner strength that she must realize on her own. She is intelligent and able, but she lacks confidence. I found this refreshing, as many protagonists are a bit more arrogant than that. I enjoyed watching her grow through all of her jobs to come to a realization in the end of what she should be. I won’t reveal spoilers—it’s a short read, and worth the time.

What I enjoyed the most was Cushman’s historical research. I’m always fascinated by historical novels that do a great job integrating the local flavor of the time. I enjoyed some of the details about food eaten, ways barkeeps ripped off customers, ways boys might have bullied each other (and others), as well as beliefs and practices about delivering babies.

The shifting points of view took the focus of the story away from Beetle the entire time, though she was the main focus. We were also allowed briefly into other characters’ minds. Though short, it felt like the story was the right length for what had to be told. The author does not waste the reader’s time, and each chapter ended in an artistic way that felt complete while still promising there was more to the story. I will definitely check out some of her other works.

I won this book at a door prize at one of the sessions at Longwood University’s Summer Literacy Institute this summer. The class was about how to integrate activities to prepare children for disaster situations using literature.

I’ve always been fascinated with the idea of disaster situations. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer, and my imagination is prone to think of the “worst,” or maybe it’s that I was obsessed with Gary Paulsen survival books when I was younger. But think about it: people involved in a disaster situation rarely ever think anything interesting will happen to them that day.

The only real “disaster” I was in that wasn’t predicted (as in a hurricane) was a minor earthquake. It wasn’t anything dangerous, but it was jarring. I was at work—planning in my classroom before the start of school. At first I thought someone was wheeling one of the very heavy laptop carts down the hallway, but the rumbling got worse, and the projector was shaking up at the ceiling. My sister is more of a preparation expert than I am, and she told me to find a doorway or a triangle support area if I was ever in an earthquake, so I made my way to the metal doorframe of my classroom. The precaution wasn’t needed, but it got me thinking: what if a major disaster happened at school? We would all be unprepared. After all, teachers and students are not allowed to have things that would be helpful in a disaster situation—guns, firestarters, etc.

Which is why I am fascinated with books like Cave-In. In this middle-grade novel, a small group of students join their teacher and student teacher on an isolated island right after Thanksgiving. Their goal is to clean up the island for the wildlife that will be arriving in the spring. Their teacher insists on an authentic experience, and cell phones are not allowed. While there, they check out an aging and abandoned storage structure—just when an earthquake hits, trapping them inside.

I enjoyed reading about the different ways the students react—there is a whole range of emotions. I also enjoyed seeing how resourceful some of them were in finding food and water (after their supplies are crushed by the cave-in). Some of the elements of the situation seemed a bit too coincidental, such as the fact that the teacher didn’t bring ANY phone to call for backup (would a school district even allow such a field trip?) or the fact that the person scheduled to pick them up died of a heart attack before he was able to get them. Still, it’s these types of coincidences that no one ever plans for, and they’re the types of decisions and events that can make or break a situation.

The book does contain deaths, and not just the fisherman’s. I enjoyed this—not because I enjoy reading death, but because it is more realistic than a toned-down book in which everyone survives. The deaths were glossed over, though, to keep the book appropriate for a middle-grade reader.

Monninger uses multiple perspectives to tell the story. I did enjoy hearing each student’s thoughts and perceptions, but I felt that all the jumping around limited the extent to which I was able to truly understand or sympathize with any one character. I would have liked to stay in one character’s perspective for longer. Still, it should be noted that the situation, and not the characters, is the purpose of this novel.

It was a fun read, one I would have enjoyed to augment my Gary Paulsen collection as a child, and a series I would recommend as an entry for any student wanting to know more about survival.