book review: “The Antidote” …

…by Karen Russell. Borrowed from the local library, published in 2025, the fifth by this author.This is the first I read: a long, complicated story line that required quite some time to finish, at over four hundred pages. “Swamplandia” is based on her youth, growing up in southern Florida, although she now resides in Oregon.

The scene set in Nebraska: based on to historical,actual events that happened between a horrific dust storm in1935 and a flood when twenty four inches of rain fell in 24 hours. Russell incorporates hours of research and interviews in the plot,weaving a complicated tale of young women as they mature, develop friendships, adulthood, share experiences.From youth when as they formed a local basketball team, sponsored by a local merchant, traveling to small neighboring towns to compete, these young women form life-long bonds that provide them with the wisdom and ability to become outspoken members of their community.

The title refers to a person who is also known locally as a prairie witch, a person who is receptive to the thoughts ,dreams , inner life of another. Some one who has turmoil in their lives and a desire to unburden their soul. That confidence shared is not necsssairily negative . It could be a simple as young courting couple, hoping to meet ata dance, or young marrieds hoping to start a family.The desire for the confession to be held without sharing. Stored within the receipeint in a ‘vault’ for safekeeping, no longer retained by the person who has passed the burden along to the prairie witch.

The back story to the historical novel is how the European immigrants/settlers were lured by the US to come to the plains of the mid-west with the promise of free land. The indigenous tribes following the seasons, wildlife, had been following trade routes for centuries, living in villages along water ways. Believing the natives to be dangerous, as whites from Europe encroach, move westward into central north America, the military forces the tribes into reservations: confining the once-free-roaming into inadequate make-shift homes. Unable to hunt, forage, grow crops to feed families, or travel across vast spaces as they historically had over centuries, numbers decline, health problems occur.

Thousands and thousands of acres of grasslands across the plains states were slowly plowed using the methods the immigrants were accustomed to. Plowing to plant crops, destroying the centuries of root systems holding the prairie grasses in place that provided the habitat for wildlife: bison, pronghorn, elk, deer, moose, the entire food chain. A few years of poor rainfall, crop failure, bank fore closes on loans, the dust-bowl scenario of the 1930’s.

up in the far …

… most northwesterly corner of the state of Georgia is Dade county. On the northern border, it meets the Tennessee state line, and on the western edge, there is the northeastern corner of Alabama. On a little trip into Dade county, looking for the big folding road map from the GA DOT that has the whole state printed in detail. In the past, readily available at Welcome centers/rest stops built on major highways leading into the state to provide visitors with information about point of interest. Welcome center: closed, so no option for using facilities, acquiring flyers, advertising, coupons for a variety of things to see and do across the state where guests are welcomed to come and leave their tourist dollars.

My very limited experience with Dade county in the past few years has been exclusively visiting the public library. This facility combined with three others in nearby counties provides resources, programs, computers, information as well as reading material to patrons in this corner of GA. With a library card that provides access to most libraries in the state, and occasional announcements of interesting classes/events, I have been to Trenton, the county seat twice to the Dade County Library. That’s all I knew about Dade until today.

Up into the green part you see Chattanooga, and Trenton really close to I-20 before the highway curves down into AL, then back up into TN.

County courthouse, not much to look at, sitting in the middle of a roundabout in the center of town.

The courthouse is a pretty small building, and does not have a whole lot of visual appeal,although the landscaping around the building is well maintained, lots of perennials in bloom. This brick building replaces one that was torn down in the 1920’s that probably had more character, but with ancient plumbing and wiring – who knows what other problems. Old creaky wooden floors, and an upstairs I did not venture into – where they might still have courtrooms in use. The downstairs spaces have been largely repurposed, so it seems likely the county has built and maintains a newer modern, more spacious property in use for day to day business. This is where the Chamber of Commerce and Visitors center with info about activities, eateries, businesses, things to do and see in Dade is located. And those GA DOT paper maps I was looking for.

Had to go back to the car and get my phone to get a photo of this plaque provided by Georgia Historical Commission.

Who knew there was a county in northwest Georgia that was so annoyed and annoying, obstinate the citizens chose to leave the Union before the state seceded? And so ornery and uncooperative they took their sweet time rejoining the rest of the Georgia. FYI: there is a county in TN where the citizens were just as bull-headed, at one time known as the ‘state of Franklin’.

This is the paper road map I drove to Trenton to find. The GA welcome center on I-75 is closed. IDK. The paper map unfolds to opens up to be at least a yard square, with one half of the state printed on each side.

book review: “When Women Were Birds”…

… by prolific author Terry Tempest Williams. Published in 2015, the small paperback tome is somewhere between a memoir and journal, hard to classify. Written after the death of her beloved mother, as she attempts to reconcile her emotions and cope with loss and grief. On her deathbed, Williams mother told her about dozens of journals, with the instructions she could not open the books until after she deceased.

Only to find the tidy, bound, rows of blank books, specifically for using as away to preserve memories, thoughts penned over time: all blank. Unusual in the sense that Williams history and family placed high value on the efforts to maintain a recorded history of their lives as families grew, matured, traveled, adapted to life circumstances. With three older siblings, parents on the go, extended family of grandparents, aunts and uncles, large gatherings over years, the author found it surprising those dozens of carefully chosed volumes contained no details of school, vacations, life-and-death, weddings, births- all events that normally claim the attention of extended family members.

A voracious reader as a child, Williams was given non-fiction books as a child. She developed a love for nature, the environment, all things to do with the sciences: from the Field Guides that cover wildlife in North America, to the tiny microscopic creatures under fingernails. A noted speaker a writer on environmental concerns, climate change,in her youth she worked in preserved areas all over the western states: summer intern in National Parks, volunteering to teach visitors about birds, wildlife, the natural world. Backpacking into remote areas, with groups interested in those wild and undeveloped places far from amenities

The author is a product of generations of members of the Church of Latter Day Saints in Utah. Men in her family have been in places of authority for many years. Women have accepted their domination for decades, raising families within the bounds of Mormon requirements and obedient to male authority. In her writing, Williams reports that many of her female relations have been exposed to the testing grounds of chemicals that have caused loved ones to show signs of the many cancers from military proving grounds in desolate unpopular areas of the southwestern US.

book review: “Wild Dark Shore”…

… by Charlotte McConahey. Requested from the local library, at the recommendation of someone who enjoys fiction. Although there is a great deal of research, fact finding, history in the background, much of the plot is strung together as a tale of multiple mishaps, due to climate change. It is a forbidding place; at the bottom of the planet. Cold and dark fpr months at the time. As the earth tilts on it’s axis, seemingly endless winter, with battering storms, lack of daylight and days of icy blasts of bone-chilling misery.

There is an island at the southern end of South America, close to to the icy continent of the Antarctica. Long narrow, with high points of either end, and a low water-logged central area. Designated as a World Heritage Site, it was decimated by ships crews over time as they hunted and eliminated the wildlife: seals, walrus, penguins as the men from wooden, sailing ships would come ashore to massacre the animals that had no fear of humans.

Currently the isolated island is primarily a research station, with inhabitants from different countries assigned to projects, including maintaing a seed vault containing viable seed collected world wide, to be used in the event they are needed. Along with those scientists, a family who have volunteered to live on that narrow space, maintain the lighthouse and help with research. The weather is horrendous, as the oceans rise, climate change causes the ice on that southern continent to melt, plus clashing storms as the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific collide at the end of Patagonia. Ships periodically come with food, equipment to resupply the people living in the converted cargo containers, bringing more personnel or evacuating the ones who are ill, ready to return to other lives.

The narrative is told from multiple points of view, not always easy to follow the thread from one character/speaker to the next. Interesting premise, as the water level rises, researchers vanish, tension among survivors increases.

an overnight guest…

… for a short visit. A seldom seen relative, though we are the same age, with parents who were siblings. Grew up in the same town, often thrown together as youngsters in a small town in the era when kids roamed the neighborhood without supervision, knew to be home before dark. The cousin has been traveling, notified me he would be coming for a short stay. Quite amusing to think I know enough about geography and history here to be a ‘guide’.

There we were, driving up the narrow highway to the top of Lookout Mountain. Attractions on the top include the well know, highly advertised Rock City, that we only observed from a distance. Taking winding narrow streets with residences built on overlook, steep lots, precarious perches, where spring blooms filled the landscaping with color.

The entrance to Point Park, part of the Chickamauga Battlefield.Most of the Park is south of the north face of Lookout Mountain,down into northwest Georgia, preserved area where the Union and Confederate armies clashed.

Eventually getting to the preserved area of the historic national park at the northern tip, overlooking the Tennessee River. It was a little late in the day but walking around on the top of the mountain, reading signs about the Battle Above the Clouds. A well tended open park, with open spaces, mature trees, tidy paths. Views of scenery far below to the east where downtown Chattanooga is located, and around the end of the mountain to the west. Where visitors look down into the valley as the Interstate highway 24 dips into Alabama as it takes trucks laden with freight, travelers on towards the middle of the nation.

The atmosphere not so clear, due to wildfires in the Smokey Mountains to the east, pollen floating in the air,and humidity that is a way of life in the south.

The Park, as you can tell by the sign at the entrance, is part of the Chickamauga Battlefield preserved space. Hundreds of acres set aside down in north west Georgia as part of the area where the conflict lasted for days, with thousands killed.

Thousands of young men, staunch believers in the principles they choose to uphold, died in the battles fought around the densely wooded, steep mountainous terrain of the surrounding mountains. Many buried in shallow graves, without any markers or identifying signs to show the internment as the landscape changed over the years. The park service does not allow any one to remove artifacts from the property, although historically over time, there have been scavengers, people with metal detectors who have found and taken objects such as buttons, belt buckles, minnie-balls, bits of weapons as collectibles.

north west corner …

…of Georgia, in Dade County. A park that claims to be the prettiest in all of the state: CloudLand Canyon, on the edge of the Cumberland Plateau, and foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Certainly not the largest, which would be Roosevelt, located on 9000 acres in the on the Fall Line in central west GA, near Pine Mountain. Or the most unusual which might be the barrier island on the Atlantic coast known as Cumberland, now managed by the National Park Service. Maybe the Okefenokee Swamp National Wildlife Refuge,with hundreds of acres of tannic-acid colored shallow water, abundant wildlife, recently designated a World Heritage Site, protected by UNESCO.

There is a lot of new construction going on in this park. At the entrance, a new kiosk for state workers to stay out of the weather where they can dispense information and collect entry fees. Currently day use is $10, up from the original five first charged some years ago to help defray maintenance expenses,although entry was no charged any place in the state when the parks were first established.

A new visitors center, incomplete, that will provide guests w information about history of the area, interpretive displays to explain geography of the deep canyon carved by millions years of erosion, and possibly centuries of indigenous inhabitants as well as wildlife, native flora and descriptive details. Many parks in the state have dioramas, examples of animals preserved by taxidermy as visuals to help make the scenes come alive: wild life in their natural setting, as if the creatures were living in water or on land, and simply in suspended antimation. Swimming, running, flying as if caught in motion.

Hiking trails, picnic pavilions, ample facilities for guests, paved paths for ADA.Waterfalls, horse-back riding, wedding venue. Much of the new construction supported by state funding, or Friends of State Parks.

This appears to be recently poured concrete and railing installed to make the path along the edge of the deep gorge more ADA complaint, giving visitors with an opportunity to get a better view of the wide vast landscape created by millions of years of erosion as the river flows across the bottom of the canyon.

book review: “The Queens of Crime”…

… by Marie Benedict. Educated as an attorney, she admits the years of law school were for naught, finding her gift as a writer to be much more satisfying as a career. Benedict is pen name, one she has used for a number of publications, including tales of Einstein’s first wife, as well as a woman who worked for the wealthy Carnegie family, and Hollywood notable, Hedy Lamar, and Lady Clementine,wife of Winston Churchill. Although the books are fiction, all are thoroughly researched, filled with details of the era, fascinating reading oft time, place, strong female characters.

Based on the in depth research the author will do prior to beginning a new novel, Benedict reports finding the story of a Dorothy Sayers, who was an English mystery writer in the real life investigation of the death of a young nurse. There was a group of females including Agatha Christie, in addition to Sayers, three others of the same genre, writing the stories published at the time. Fiction and fact blend, as the women travel to France, search for clues, find their efforts diminished and discounted by male writers, as well as newspaper reporters,law enforcement, men in general who cannot take them seriously as investigators.

The women do uncover many details, pieces of useful information, evidence as clues to help them piece together the mystery of the young woman’s death. Resolving the puzzle, referred to as ‘the locked room’ mystery, where someone simply seems to vanish into thin air without notice. Justice is served, the women are hailed as capable detectives by they male counterparts.

Bennet reports being inspired by an aunt in her youth who took on the responsibility of purchasing and gifting reading material in her youth that would enrich her life: books that surely must have lead her into the career of being the author she has become. The amount of research done before the narratives are assembled appears to be staggering, to have the details of time, place, traveling in such an organized manner. And excellent read!

book review: “Tilt”…

… by Emma Pattee. Published in 2025, under the imprint of Simon-snd Schuster. This is the author’s first novel, though she has been published in numerous well-respected periodicals. Highly regarded, she recently participated in a book event sponsored by the Parnassus group, headed by Anne Patchett, book-lover extrordinare, in Nashville.

Annie lives in Portland, Oregon, is extremely pregnant, shopping for a baby crib at IKEA when the long-predicted Cascadia earth quake rolls across the northwest, on the fault line running the length of the west coast. Buildings crumble, roofs cave with hundreds buried beneath rubble. All city services/resources cease to exist, infrastructure destroyed: no electricity, cell-phone service, bridges collapsed, streets impassible due to fallen trees, power lines, wrecked vehicles, buildings lying in the streets.

Walking miles, with an occasional ride, she is searching for her husband. Diverted numerous times due to downed power lines, unsafe passage of bridges or crossing over highways, water, she struggles in her massive pre-birth state to get back to her neighborhood. The descriptive parts of the narrative, as she makes her way across town from the ill-fated trip to find a baby crib, to her home in an apartment where she hopes to find her mate appear to be realistic and accurate, as the damage of the colliding fault lines of the massive quake with take years to recover from.

book review: “One L” …

… by fiction writer Scott Turow. The book might be the only non-fiction work he has published, as most of his writing is based on legal stories, with twists and turns as the plot unfolds,often in courtrooms. This one was the second one he wrote, early in his career of a prolific writer of tales from the courtroom. Currently, according to Dr. Google, published books by Turow include thirteen fiction and three non-fiction. Translated into a number of languages, there are literally millions of tomes by this author on the planet.

“One L” is the term used in law school for first year students. The second and third years, as you might expect, are similarly labeled. Turow must have kept details in journals of his time at Harvard, as the book relates his experience in a fairly precise manner. Turow was married, an older student, with some work (teaching) experience under his belt before deciding to attend law, and accepted at Harvard. The couple were living in California, and moved across the country for his three years of legal training. His wife was a teacher and easily found work in schools near the campus.

It was a stressful, harrowing experience. The professors were demanding, expecting hours of study, copious reading of history and ready, quick recall in lecture classrooms. Treating the students as if that one class was the only one they needed to prepare for. The first year students start classes a week before 2 and 3 to help them acclimate to the campus, and environment. But reading the book, it is obvious nothing prepares a person for the sense of forced labor that soon permeates the lives of those first year students: almost like paying that tuition to endure the daily punishment of insufficient sleep, humiliation in the classroom when called upon, unreasonable demands of the instructors.

Published in 1977, it was the second book Turow wrote. Even though he had talked to friends and acquaintances who were attorneys, to better understand what to expect, it is apparent that there is no way to fully be prepared for the stress of that environment. Insufficient sleep, constant anxiety, physical turmoil from not exercising or eating properly including far too much caffeine, unending headaches, constantly reviewing, endless doubt of capabilities and decision making.

world’s longest yard sale …

… along half-a-dozen states, reportedly 690 miles of antiques, collectibles, ‘junque’ from barns, abandoned long-closed general stores. The origin was meant to encourage travelers along the Highway127 route driving to stop, visit, purchase goods from locals,. Eat in local cafes, support the small towns economy as the browsed the collectibles, farm implements, hand loomed textiles like bedspreads, quilts, lovingly-stitched hand made crochet and knit crafts from care-worn farm wives hands. Purchase the fruits of the kitchen: those jars of delicious jams and jelly, home-grown vegetables nurtured from the soil, local honey, cane syrups, regional delights to take as the passing travelers returned to their origin.

Parts of the southeast region have long had a reputation for textile production: bed spreads, floor coverings, a variety of woven materials, shipped world-wide. Due to low labor costs, affordable real estate, outside financial support, there are still a number of large international manufacturers of these goods. Many depend on minority labor, as communities have developed with generations of families coming in to establish. The names are seen on carpets, rugs, floor coverings across the world: Shaw, Miliken, Mohawk, as well as groups in Europe.

In decades past, earlier in the twentieth century, as autos become more common, families had resources and opportunity to get out, away from work, and home. Travelers passing through these rural communities in the past,would notice lovingly pieced quilts made by generations of farm-wives,crochet and knit articles of clothing and bedding. Pull off the narrow two lane country road, stop to look, offer to buy, occasionally taking that heirloom seen hanging out on the clothesline or front-porch railing away when they returned to their travels.

This is likely one of the origins of the long yard sale, as locals have deliberately advertised, supported, spread the word over decades to encourage visitors, travelers to slow down, shop the oddities/wares of years gone by.The small towns, as well as communities that are even more rural, unincorporated with city resources or organized government bodies to maintain order, utilities still gather. At churches, meeting halls, community centers where the locals, extended groups of families and friends would plan and organize events. Participating in fish-fries, bar-be-que stands where food is slow roasted over low fires all night to sell travelers are attracted to sales, goods like rust-covered pitchforks, textiles, odd-ments from days gone by.