Redhead by the Side of the Road, by Anne Tyler.

            The only thing wrong with this book is its length:  it’s too short!  As always, Ms Tyler draws the reader effortlessly into her story of a very ordinary Baltimore man whom quite a number of us would regard as eccentric were it not for his innate decency, good humour and strength of character – which does not always come to the fore unless tested.

            Micah Mortimer lives, by his own choice, a fairly regimented life.  He jogs a certain route every morning starting at 7.15am;  he has different days and times for various chores in his apartment, and supports himself by fixing computer problems (He’s The Tech Hermit) and being the Go-To guy in his apartment building should anything need repairing.  In short, Micah fixes things but doesn’t create.  But that doesn’t matter – he’s happy enough with his life;  he has a ‘woman friend’ (he refuses to call Cass his girlfriend because she is a teacher in her late 30’s, hardly a girl);  they are very comfortable together and life is about as satisfying (and predictable) as one can expect.

            Until Cass could be evicted from her apartment, and expects Micah to invite her to move in with him, rather than face the alarming prospect of her and her cat (the cause of the eviction) being made homeless.  Micah does not react well, and before he can gather his wits and apologise for his insensitivity, his woman friend has opted out of his hum-drum little life.

            And that’s not all:  a rich-looking, preppy young man turns up on his doorstep, convinced that Micah is his birth-father.  The boy Brink (yes, that’s really his name) has fought with his parents and somehow connected dots – all the wrong ones – to arrive at the conclusion that he and Micah should bond and get to know each other.  The seas of Micah’s life, disturbed by hardly a ripple for years are suddenly at the mercy of a Force 10 gale, and he doesn’t know what to do – except try to fix it all.

            In prose beautiful and simple as breathing, Ms Tyler guides the reader through all attempts successful or otherwise that Micah makes to improve people’s situations – and his own.  Once again she has created characters unforgettable in their ordinariness, and once again we are charmed by her complete mastery of our emotions.  I didn’t want to let Micah go in just 178 pages:  give us more!  FIVE STARS.  (For being so short.)   

  

Bull Mountain,

Like Lions, by Mike Panowich.

         

            Hold onto your seats, folks, you’re in for a very bumpy ride as former FireFighter Brian Panowich flexes his literary muscles and launches our readers’ rollercoaster at the summit of Bull Mountain, his first novel of a family of Good Ole Boys gone bad in North Georgia. 

            The first book recounts the history of a dynasty of hillbilly drug-dealers started by Cooper Burroughs, who killed his brother Riley in front of Cooper’s 9 year-old son Gareth because Riley thought they should try to make money legitimately – then Cooper instructed Gareth to dig Riley’s grave.  Mountain Men are tough, and their sons better be damn tough as well.  The sooner they learn that the better! 

            Gareth grows up according to plan;  the sad thing is that he has three sons whom he expects to be as ruthless and brutal as he has trained them and they are, expanding his meth empire with the outside help of a biker gang into other states – except for youngest son Clayton:  durned if he hasn’t become the local Sheriff!  And as far from being a crooked lawman living in their pocket as it is possible to be, for Clayton loves his wife, loves where he lives, and wants to Protect and Serve.  ‘Bull Mountain’ deals with his struggle to reconcile his upbringing, his conscience and his homicidal family – just managing to survive after a bloody shoot-out with his brother, the consequences of which are covered in ‘Like Lions’.

            It’s not easy to produce a sequel that lives up to the excitement and suspense of the first book, but Mr Panowich has succeeded effortlessly, carrying on the unrelenting tension and brutal characterisation at a heart-stopping rate.  Clayton is still Sheriff, but has been terribly wounded in the gunfight with his brother;  he is now a father, with a baby son at home – and a wife he sees less of than he should, for his conscience won’t let him alone and he drinks to stop its nagging voice.  The family drug empire without his brother’s leadership is floundering and other crims are making aggressive moves.  What to do?  How can a crippled, alky headcase save his community – save anything?  Clayton is in a very dark place, and worse is yet to come.

            But!

            The writer saves the day in a way that doesn’t insult the reader’s intelligence;  he ties up all loose ends efficiently and as a bonus provides a most satisfying twist to the plot at the very end.  His larger-than-life characters (and their dialogue!) are unforgettable:  hard men, harsh prose, and hard country.  Brian Panowich, you’re a STAR.  SIX STARS.         

Saving Missy, by Beth Morrey.

           It was a lovely surprise to find that a book with such a misleading title (I thought it was about the rescue of a beloved pet!) can utterly belie its appearance.  Lockdown at its various levels means boredom reigned supreme, so readers need Excitement!  Thrills!  Humour!  Pathos!  You know:  all of those things.

BUT.

Ms Morrey’s debut novel contains all these prerequisites in generous quantities. How happy I am that I got past the cover, for main protagonist Missy is a force to be reckoned with, even though she never realises her power.

Millicent Carmichael is 79 years old.  She rattles around in a big suburban London house by herself;  her husband is gone and her son lives in Australia with her only grandchild.  Millicent has fought bitterly with her daughter, who wants her to sell up and get something much smaller in Cambridge so Melanie and her gay partner can ‘keep an eye on her’.  Oh, really?  Not bloody likely!  For Millicent has had a lifelong association with Cambridge;  she was a Classicist with a very good degree, but gave up her career to wed the love of her life, Leo Carmichael, soon to become an internationally famous historian.  Millicent and her children became acolytes to the Great Man, whether they wanted to or not, Worshippers of the Flame – but when the Flame goes out, what is left?

An aching and terrible loneliness, some of it her fault,(very hard to admit) – and the consolation of alcohol, which has always featured largely in her life, and is even more of a crutch now.

Until a chance meeting in the local park (what was left but to get out of the house and walk in the park?) with two very different women, Angela, a potty-mouthed Irish solo mum with a darling little son called Otis (the same age as Millicent’s beloved grandson) and Sylvie, a very resourceful, community-minded Interior Designer.  It doesn’t take very long before Millicent becomes Missy, her name of choice, and her world thanks to these women who make her feel so necessary, starts to expand – she even gets lumbered with a DOG!  Who’s not hers to keep, mind, only a loan while the owner goes through a rough patch – but when Missy starts dog-walking, she meets a whole new circle of friends.  Can life get any better?

No.  Tragedy strikes, as it always does, but thanks to her new-found loyal friends, Missy finds practical solutions to her previously insoluble problems.  Beth Morrey has triumphed:  all her characters are beautifully realised and utterly convincing, and she writes compellingly about problems that face us all at different times of our lives.  This is a gem of a book!  SIX STARS.