I will continue to read whatever Oprah tells me to because I’ve been drinking that Kool-Aid for so long I’m pretty sure the withdrawal would be absoluI will continue to read whatever Oprah tells me to because I’ve been drinking that Kool-Aid for so long I’m pretty sure the withdrawal would be absolutely KILLER, but when it comes to this one . . . .
Salvage the Bones is a story I’ll never forget and again, I’ll continue to read Ward, but aside from her being really good at words, the story here just was not for me. I’m admittedly a giant dumbdumbbaby and accidentally came across the fact this was a reimagining of Dante’s Inferno after I had already finished reading. Being unfamiliar with the original work (aside from name and the principles of “seven levels”) I can only remark on my issues with this one. Mainly, my complaint is the flow was so lacking. The plot jumped from setting to setting without much character development (truly at the beginning I had assumed Annis was a much younger girl . . . until the sex scenes – which, ummmmm, really? I’m no pearl clutcher, but was it really even necessary?) Also, I’m an idiot so I had to double-check myself more than once that Annis and Arese were the same person and not a typo. But more than anything I’ll blame my wrongreading on the fact that I (a) do not enjoy magical realism and (b) am not a spiritual person. And WTF was the all the bee shit? God I am way to stupid to read this!
While the ending was satisfactory (especially when it came to the relationship between Annis and Aza), really I think a novel about the swamp and those who managed to escape and live there would have been a much bigger success for me....more
When Oprah announced Hello Beautiful would be her ONE HUNDREDTH Book Club recommendation, there was no way I was going to be left behind. And when I pWhen Oprah announced Hello Beautiful would be her ONE HUNDREDTH Book Club recommendation, there was no way I was going to be left behind. And when I pulled the list of her past selections for a photo (follow me on the ‘Gram for crappy book content and a real cute dwarf cat) I realized not only do I own a whole lot of her choices, but I’ve read at least 75 out of the 100. You know why? Because they are farking TERRIFIC. I said what I said.
Now, please take it under advisement when I say that about this novel, I say it as someone who has never read (nor watched a film version) of Little Women. While I avoid reading reviews in their entirety before forming my own opinion on books I already plan on reading, I have noticed some reappearing complaints from superfans of that classic claiming this is nothing like it. And without any knowledge, I would have to agree. I can’t imagine this being much of anything like the original as far as plot goes, so I would label this as “inspired by” as it is the story of the lives of four sisters. Like a lot of Oprah’s choices, this is a sweeping narrative that imbeds you right into the family home and invests you in the lives of its people. It made me feel all the feels so it gets an abundance of stars. Just take my rating here with a grain of salt if you are a Louisa May Alcott purist.
Letting the streets have you is like planning your own funeral. I wanted the streetlight brights, the money in the morning, not the back alleys. NoLetting the streets have you is like planning your own funeral. I wanted the streetlight brights, the money in the morning, not the back alleys. Not the sirens. But, here we are. Streets always find you in the daylight, when you least expect them to. Night crawling up to me when the sun’s out.
I initially had no plans on reading Nightcrawling. Actually when I saw the title I thought this was some kind of horror story that I wasn’t in the mood for during this trillion degree heatwave that never ends. But then . . . .
Yeah I still drink that Kool Aid hardcore. And thanks to the best library in ‘Merica, I was able to get my hands on a copy pretty dang quick. If you haven’t read an Oprah selection before, it should be noted . . . .
I mean The Queen of All Things takes misery to a whollllllllllle notha level. Nightcrawling is no exception and you’ll feel like you’re taking a skillet to the face pretty much the entire time you read about 17-year old Kiara as she tries to fend for herself and the young neighbor boy whose crackhead momma has disappeared for the umpteenth time, but doesn’t seem to have any intention of returning this go around. Per the title, Kiara’s only option as far as she can see it being underage and with no high school diploma is to begin “nightcrawling” in order avoid eviction. Her own momma is in jail, her brother is living in a fantasy world where he’ll follow in their uncle’s footsteps and become a famous rapper, and said uncle ditched the kids as soon as he made it in the music industry and their momma did what she did. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that. The blurb gives away even more info, but I went into this blind and the story went in a direction I wasn’t aware was coming and boy oh boy was it a page turner. While typically not a blurb reader, I went against my other norm of not reading the author note and was amazed (but sadly not surprised) this fictional story was inspired by a true event. Even more surprising was that the author was only 17 years old herself when she began writing this. Kids, man, they are amazing.
This one obviously isn’t for the weak and no judgment for those who look for joy in their fiction rather than despair. For the rest of you, just remember when you feel real sad . . . .
Oprah picked it as a best of - need I say more? Okay just kidding (even though she did). This was another selection from the NYT best of 2020 in fictiOprah picked it as a best of - need I say more? Okay just kidding (even though she did). This was another selection from the NYT best of 2020 in fiction and once again it was a winner. If you’re looking for a mystery or thriller you might find yourself disappointed as this one focuses on the aftermath of all those involved in the discovery of “the boy in the field.”...more
If we can truly integrate white people and black people together, working in tandem, tFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
If we can truly integrate white people and black people together, working in tandem, that’s when our world will make its joyful noise.
My non-reading husband was actually the one to turn me on to this title last week when it was released. Unfortunately for him, the wait list for the hard copy is about eleventy trillion long, but yay me I got first dibs on the Kindle version : ) He has settled for watching the videos (on You Tube???? me = old timer so I have no idea) while I ploughed through this sucker in one day.
Like most books regarding the subject matter at hand, the people who really need to read it will be the ones who absolutely don’t due to the fact they are too busy picking out the perfect madras shirt to match their tiki torches while gathering in the town square in order to wave their confederate flags with their knuckle dragging brethren.
As for the rest of us who aren’t super busy like those snowflakes (hehehe, turned the tables on ‘em didn’t I?), inside this book you’ll find nearly every topic you could possibly have questions about when it comes to the current state of race relations in America. From white privilege to “reverse racism” to implicit bias to the “N” word and “thugs” and “angry black men” to gangs and black on black violence to cultural appropriation to “Karens” to systemic racism when it comes to racial divides as far as income, housing, the criminal justice system, etc., this is a book that does not shy away from any uncomfortable conversation.
As far as I’m concerned, it should be required reading. What puts Uncomfortable Conversations above some others is that it not only encourages you to talk the talk – and it REALLY encourages you that the talking is the first step (hence the title, duh) – but also teaches you how to walk the walk. From book and film recommendations (both non-fiction as well as fiction), to music, to websites where you can research various subjects in greater detail on your own, to reputable charities which to donate money, to civic and philanthropic volunteer opportunities, there’s really no excuse after reading this to claim ignorance when it comes to actively becoming anti-racist. And if you determine your comfort level has an ending point and you don’t want to/can’t accept the responsibility of being a true ally at least you gained some knowledge and learned the only bad questions are those that go unasked. (But really, all of us can do better than only talking – simply voting might be enough to start making changes in your neck of the woods when it comes to taxes, zoning, schools, etc.)
Guaranteeing a nearly perfect rating from the masses and broadcasting my wrongreader status far and wide. The premise here starts off fairly simple . . . .
“A cloudy September afternoon in 1969. That’s the day the old deacon, known as Sportcoat to his friends, marched out to the plaza of the Causeway Housing Projects in South Brooklyn, stuck an ancient .38 Colt in the face of a nineteen-year-old drug dealer named Deems Clemens, and pulled the trigger.
What follows is a story about the neighborhood surrounding the Five Points Baptist Church and the various characters who reside near there. Church ladies, maintenance men with a government cheese side hustle, bumbling hitmen, a mobster known as the Elephant, and on and on. Serious messages are delivered with humor (sometimes to the point of being the annoying slapstick variety) as you meander through the interconnected tales of a possible missing treasure and missing Christmas club cash.
This was my second go around with McBride and at this point I feel comfortable saying my lack of stars comes from a place of enjoying the tale but not the telling. I just don’t connect with his writing. This had a lot of potential, and maybe it fell victim to the hype train for me....more
I’m going to be completely forthright and let you all know that I never had any intentionFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
I’m going to be completely forthright and let you all know that I never had any intention of reading this book until I watched peaceful protestors get teargassed in my city. When I logged on to the library website to see what recommended selections might be available for the Summer Reading Program (and my endless quest to win free mugs/glasses bi-annually) the main page featured books about race instead. This book had no waiting list so I checked it out.
Between the World and Me is a letter from Coates to his adolescent son. It is a matter-of-fact statement of what it is like to be a black man in the United States at this moment in time and offers no promises of a fairytale ending or utopian future to come. His observations hit the nail right on the head . . . . .
Never forget that we were enslaved in this country longer than we have been free. Never forget that for 250 years black people were born into chains—whole generations followed by more generations who knew nothing but chains. You must struggle to truly remember this past in all its nuance, error, and humanity. You must resist the common urge toward the comforting narrative of divine law, toward fairy tales that imply some irrepressible justice. The enslaved were not bricks in your road, and their lives were not chapters in your redemptive history. They were people turned to fuel for the American machine. Enslavement was not destined to end, and it is wrong to claim our present circumstance—no matter how improved—as the redemption for the lives of people who never asked for the posthumous, untouchable glory of dying for their children
The truth is that the police reflect America in all of its will and fear, and whatever we might make of this country’s criminal justice policy, it cannot be said that it was imposed by a repressive minority. The abuses that have followed from these policies—the sprawling carceral state, the random detention of black people, the torture of suspects—are the product of democratic will.
“It only takes one person to make a change,” you are often told. This is also a myth. Perhaps one person can make a change, but not the kind of change that would raise your body to equality with your countrymen.
Again, to be completely honest, Coates’ writing style is not the type I enjoy. Most likely it’s because I’m not intelligent enough to truly “get” it and I fully admit it – I just appreciate a more direct delivery and “purple” prose is not my idea of a good time. I would definitely struggle with his fictional work for sure and will most likely avoid it in the future since I’m not a reader who seeks out books intentionally just to complain about them. However, the message presented is worthy of all the stars, which is why it is receiving so many from me.
As I said above, I picked this up after watching the current state of events in the United States. I fully admit I’m no sort of activist. I don’t even participate in social media aside from here and Instagram which are both solely dedicated to talking books. I am not a fan of political rants conducted by Keyboard Commandos, have made that very clear in the past, and do not want to ever be mistaken for one. But the one thing I can do????
American Dirt has been on my TBR for a minute. All I knew about the story before knowing I wanted to read it was it begins with the gunning down of nearly an entire family at a quinceañera by the cartel. That right there is what you call . . . .
By this point 99.999999% of you have already decided if you’re going to read this or not. I mean, not only did it make the internet explode (we’ll get to that later), but it has also been chosen by The Queen of All Things and Barnes and Noble as their book club selections. For the one person out there who doesn’t know anything about this book, from the jumping off point above survivor Lydia knows that her son’s life is in jeopardy and they must immediately escape Acapulco. The only place she can imagine being far enough away from the reaches of the cartel to disappear completely is the United States. Thus begins a fifty-three day, 2,645 mile journey detailing the lengths a mother will go to for her child. Basically . . . .
“Like in the movies?”
“Yes, mijo. Just like in the movies.”
Interspersed within that tale is the background of just how their family became targets to begin with as well as those of other migrants they meet along the way. It is a FICTIONAL depiction. There are a lot of instances of right place/right time, kindness of strangers, better them than me, thank god we had money, etc., etc., etc. that obviously make this dissimilar to most true accounts. But no one ever said it was based on a true story, so my rating has been driven by my investment in the characters and the page turnability factor.
Talk about a story that sucked me in until the last page! Well, nearly the last page. Per usual I could have lived without the Epilogue. This was a story of the migration itself, after all, and having a blip of an “after” without any details regarding the hows behind Lydia and Luca’s new life, school, etc. was unnecessary to me (and also left a lot of unanswered questions to those truly ignorant of the undocumented person’s experience when it comes to becoming a member of society without truly being allowed legally to be a member of society). I did not feel like this was ANYTHING resembling “tragiporn” until the very end (as I said, in reality I’m sure many more tragedies generally face those attempting to make this trek) and a fade-to-black approach was taken rather than graphic content being added to amp up the shock and awe factor. There were no “white saviors” to come rescue the characters. The story did not perpetuate negative stereotypes other than the cartel is not made up of good guys, which hopefully everyone can agree on. To me, it was simply brilliant.
Now it’s probably time to address the pink elephant in the room.
Once upon a time there was an author who showed up at a reviewer’s house and stalked her for not liking her book. I immediately went to the library so I could read it (and my husband was absolutely horrified by what a whackjob I obviously am). When asked if I was still going to read this, my response was simply . . . .
I had tried and failed to get an ARC, then begged the library to buy it for me, then waited an eternity for it to be released and got first dibs for my efforts . . . which just so happened to be the same day the poo really hit the fan on the intertubes. I couldn't wait to start this son-of-a-gun.
I want to make something real clear in that I believe everyone has a right to have an opinion as well as the right to express it. People should stand up for what they believe in. I thought the conversation was going to be that encouraging publishers/readers to experience more #ownvoices selections, which is great. What I didn’t expect was this attempt to keep authors from writing any character or story they have in their brain due to not be “brown” enough as the case was here (or gay enough or Muslim enough or any other type of “enough” in other cases). Censorship is something I will never get behind. We need as many voices as possible bringing real-life issues to the forefront. Not to mention the flat-out trolling of any reader/reviewer who dared to give American Dirt a chance.
I also encourage people to make sure they have their “own voice” before jumping onto the bandwagon of some of these social justice warriors. You will find people who have not even bothered to read the book themselves and are simply regurging what others have said, or who have an ulterior motive of attempting to sell their own wares, or who have gone viral by devolving into calling a complete stranger a bitch and a “white” person (despite her being of Puerto Rican descent). That is gross. But again, bottom line is opinions are like assholes and what people think about a book is 100% an opinion. My opinion just so happens to agree with the Instagrammer who renamed this release . . . . .
Maybe that’s my privilege showing. And speaking of . . . . do you see that blurb? DON WINSLOW??? A white dude who has made an entire career out of writing books about Mexicans. Yet no one seems to have a problem with him. Or even better, why weren’t people up this guy’s ass????
Dammmmmmmn, son. Talk about #hollywoodsowhite. Not to mention those two actually write stuff that perpetuates the falsity that MexicansSoBad.
But enough of this. Read the book if you want, don’t read it if you don’t. And now to quote my boys Ed Sheeran and Khalid . . . .
♪♫♪I could use some help Gettin' out of this conversation, yeah♪♫♪
Let’s end this with some recommended selections for those who may be looking for #ownvoices stories:
Fruit of the Drunken Tree Prayers for the Stolen Persepolis Darius the Great Is Not Okay The Joy Luck Club Inside Out and Back Again Two Boys Kissing Exit West Night The God of Small Things anything by Sherman Alexie anything by Jason Reynolds
Trollish comments will be automatically deleted this time around. I don’t feel like playing with you dickheads....more
There’s really no reason why either. I seriously think the title and cover were both so “meh” to me that I just assumed I wouldn’t like it and I’m generally not a blurb reader so I didn’t even bother with that. That’s stupid too, because I have a pretty good track record when it comes to enjoying Pulitzer Prize winners. And as far as Oprah Book Club books are concerned? Well . . . . .
Whatever the cause, I had passively avoided this for over a decade and probably would have continued to do so if I hadn’t stumbled upon my friend Debbie’s pogo-sticking review of the original and seeing post upon post about the soon-to-be-released sequel. I decided to go ahead and pick it up since it was handily available at the downtown library. I had no idea that nearly every moment (except for hopefully the smacky ones) spent with Olive would have me saying . . . .
Aside for one second when I thought she might be debra . . . .
“Let me tell you, that idiot ex-cocaine-addict was never a cowboy. He can wear all the cowboy hats he wants. He’s a spoiled brat to the manor born. And he makes me puke.”
I don’t think I’ve ever related to a character as much as I did this one. As the blurb states – at its core this is a book about the human condition. It’s presented in the form known as a composite novel or a short story cycle . . . .
Where vignettes regarding various townsfolk throughout various periods of time all intertwine to paint a larger story. Olive is either a featured or bit player in each of them. Gruff at best or downright cold and brittle at worst, even Olive’s family find her hard and unfeeling, but as the reader gets to know her they discover it’s because she has extreme difficulty expressing her feelings or interacting with others period. Don’t know if she’s for you? Here’s a little taste . . . .
“My God, you do have the passions and the prejudices of a peasant.”
“That’s it. At least I’m not prejudiced against homosexuals.”
“No, just white men with money.”
Damn right, she thought.
And this snippet from my favorite entry of the entire book – “Basket of Trips:”
“I’ve been thinking about killing Kerry.” She raises a hand from her lap and exposes a small paring knife lying on her green flowered dress.
“Oh,” says Olive.
Marlene bends over the sleeping Kerry and touches the woman’s bare neck. “Isn’t this some major vein?” she asks, and puts the knife flat against Kerry’s neck, even poking slightly at the vague throbbing of the pulse there.
“Yuh. Okay. Might want to be a little careful there.” Olive sits forward.
In a moment Marlene sighs, sits back. “Okay, here.” And she hands the paring knife to Olive.
“Do better with a pillow,” Olive tells her. “Cut her throat, there’s going to be a lot of blood.”
I’m giving this 4.5 Stars rather than all 5 simply for the fact that not every entry was as perfectly perfect perfection as the aforementioned.
P.S. This was a book while reading that played like a movie in my head . . . but due to the format I wasn’t sure how well it would translate. Apparently it translated pretty well a few years ago because it won all of the Emmys . . . .
Let’s get real. That’s the reason everyone and their damn dog read this thing. Now that I’ve read it, I’m fairly certain that’s why many users rated it so high as well. I actively avoided it for months because I wasn’t quite sure if I was still a drinker of the Oprah Kool-Aid and wanted to maintain my fond memories of a bygone era. But then a co-worker told me about a podcast she listened to where Tayari Jones was interviewed and convinced me to add my name to the waiting list because she sounded so nice. There’s a good chance that she’s the nicest person in the universe . . . . but the characters she wrote about sure weren’t.
For me, it all boils down to . . . .
“Young people don’t respect the institution.”
While I don’t believe that is the case, the message that THESE YOUNG PEOPLE in particular didn’t respect the institution of marriage was broadcast loud and clear throughout the duration of this novel. As a woman who has been married for 22 years, let me tell you this story pissed me plum the fuck off. These people weren’t in an “American Marriage” – or if they were I’m declaring I want different categories because they didn’t even LIKE each other FFS. He was an overgrown manchild who screwed women on the side while vilifying his “little missus” for not being interested in getting knocked up on their honeymoon. She was so worried about losing herself to a man that she wouldn’t give ANY part of herself for the greater good of their union. Their “marriage” of a year and a half was full of lies and omissions and both of them sickened me.
I’m a person who LOVES reading about the underdog or the “bad” guy. I don’t shy away from vile characters – often times I even find myself cheering for them. But these people? Ugh. If this is what “real” people are like then let me stay in my bubble because I could just vomit. From giving up on her supposedly innocent husband nearly instantaneously (don’t argue semantics – just because she pretended to stay with him for two years doesn’t mean she didn’t move on with her life/career immediately), to falling into bed with her childhood friend (and again, this relationship had zero actual love that translated to the page – only convenience and a copout) to him having a one-night-stand with a woman the day he’s out of prison and then informing his wife that he could rape her if he wanted to when she dares to tell him he needs to use protection if they are going to have sex (while she’s supposedly engaged to her (and his – can’t forget they were college buddies) best pal). Again - vomit.
I don’t know this reviewer, but the first few lines of THIS REVIEW asks the questions I kept asking myself. The answer for me? My rating comes from how much I enjoyed a book – not for its literary merit. I LOATHED this book, its characters, the glossing over the trial/incarceration/appeal/etc., its jumping of the shark that somehow a man whose father ran out on his mother when he was but a baby somehow MAGICALLY ends up in not only the same penal institution (and don’t forget there’s roughly 2.3 MILLION PEOPLE currently incarcerated in the United States), but also winds up his cellie in some attempt at tragi-porn that never delivers ANNNNNNND the beyond the grave letter from his dearly departed mama. GTFOOH. It doesn’t matter that the writing was clearly good, the snippets of imprisonment left me wanting more of that story, the final showdown in the front yard FINALLY offered me something to believe in or Big Roy . . . . .
“When I look at Mr. Roy out there, at his wife’s grave, I feel like I’ve been playing at marriage. That I don’t know what it is to be committed.”
Oh Big Roy. You were nearly enough to make me change my mind, but I’m sticking to my guns and this solo star.
Nearly ALL of my friends loved this novel thoroughly. There’s a good chance you will too. After all, the power of Oprah compels you. And if you think I’m kidding about that, here’s a pic I took last night when my kid challenged me to a “minute to win it” type of event where I pulled all the Oprah books I could off the shelves while he timed me . . . . .
IMMEDIATE EDIT: Because I just remembered this was on the President's 2016 Summer ReadingFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
IMMEDIATE EDIT: Because I just remembered this was on the President's 2016 Summer Reading List, and while I don't follow his recommendations as religiously as I do Oprah's, I don't know how many more opportunities I will be presented to say . . . .
“The world may be mean, but people don’t have to be, not if they refuse.”
If you want an actual review, I highly recommend leaving this space immediately and re-routing yourself over to Snotchocheez’s instead because if you stay here you’re going to learn that much like Liz Lemon, I pretty much do whatever Oprah tells me to do. When I saw Book Club 2.0 on the horizon I put myself on the library wait list immediately. Surprisingly my turn at The Underground Railroad came up after only a couple of weeks. Here’s how I picture Oprah reacting to this news . . . .
Obviously the title gave an eensie little hint that I might be reading a slave story (I’m real smart when it comes to figgurrrin’ stuff out like that), but I didn’t ever bother reading a synopsis . . . because Oprah.
The story revolves around Cora, a slave born on the Randall plantation in Georgia to the only woman who ever escaped – a woman who did so without taking her daughter along. When Cora is given an opportunity to run away after being brutally raped and later beaten she jumps at the chance and is informed of something known as the Underground Railroad. Now, all of us have heard of this before (if you haven’t, do me a solid and don’t even think about voting for anything ever in your life), but Colson Whitehead delivers his version with a twist that I had no idea was coming . . . .
Yep, the railroad is an actual railroad. Unfortunately it doesn’t lead to Hogwarts, but rather to a series of stations over the course of Cora’s journey that serve as a reminder of the various atrocities faced by African Americans throughout this country’s history while somehow remaining true to the era originally presented. It was fascinating and a completely new spin on a story told countless times before.
As a warning to anyone who may be interested in case you aren’t already aware – you should always expect some misery with any of Oprah’s choices. This being a slave narrative I figured there was a good chance I’d look a little like this by the time I was finished . . . .
And I will say The Underground Railroad didn’t pull any punches when it came to brutality so only you can determine whether or not you'll be able to stomach it. However, much like Superman I am a woman of steel and was able to brace myself for the inevitable horrors I knew would be presented to me. If you’re looking for a new voice in “book clubby” type literature, Whitehead might be someone to keep your eye out on in the future. He (and Oprah) did not disappoint. ...more
I did manage to finish, but WHAT. A. SLOG. There are only about 47,000,000 reviews out there and I kind of feel like I sacrificed 1,000 years of my reading this instead of just two days so I’m not going to hash and rehash every detail I didn’t like. Really, let’s face facts. No matter what reason I give for not liking this one there’s a good chance I’ll get trolled for daring to have an unpopular opinion so why bother? I will say that Beloved is the only book I can remember reading where I was in love with the story but hated the way it was told. (Sidenote: Beloved is realllllly strangely fitting if you’re someone still looking for a ghost story to add to your October reading list.) I think Toni Morrison’s writing style is one that you’re either going to love or hate. Obviously I fall in to the hate it category, but I’m glad I can say I finally read her. As for Beloved being touted one of the best books of all time???? Thanks for nothing, Oprah!
3.5 Stars - Individual narratives of the lives of Hattie Shepherd’s children that span the course of 55 years.
It had been a looooooooooooooooonnnnnnnn3.5 Stars - Individual narratives of the lives of Hattie Shepherd’s children that span the course of 55 years.
It had been a looooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggg time since I read something just because Oprah told me too, but that’s exactly why I read this book. Suffice it to say that Oprah’s Book Club 2.0 is a second verse, same as the first. If you’ve read enough of Oprah’s selections, you’ll know she likes some misery in her book club. Luckily it was a quick read, because I don’t think I had enough wine in the house to drown my sorrows if this one would have taken more than a day. If you want a book with a silver lining, don’t read this. If you don’t mind spending an hour or two going over the pros and cons of sticking your head in an oven due to the overwhelming despair that embody the lives of everyone in the Shepherd family, dive on in. ...more
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