Dear Carolyn Parkhurst,

Dear Carolyn Parkhurst,
     The Dogs of Babel knocked me off my feet. The prose is beautiful and haunting, the ideas heartbreakingly sad yet realistic, and the imagery something you can't forget. I love this book so much that I want to share it with everyone, but I've never lent it out afraid that I won't get it back. When I reread the book, as I have often, I have to brace myself each time, even though I know the ending and the secret.
     I can't imagine going through what the characters go through.  A man's wife dies by falling out of a tree and no one knows if she fell or jumped. The only witness is their loyal dog, Lorelei, and Paul, the husband, becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to Lexy, his wife. The way the story runs through the present day searching and flashbacks to their relationship creates this impending doom. You know the ending from the beginning but you find yourself hoping, maybe not. Maybe they will live happily ever after in the end.
  The hardest and best part of the story for me is all about Lorelei. I had a dog named Zoey from when I was in high school until I almost graduated college. We found Zoey in a very unusual way. I was working the summer at Storrowton Village. Since it was before I got my licence, my Mom had picked me up and we were exiting the highway on the way home. Out of nowhere this white streak crosses the road headed back onto the highway. Cars are dodging, people are jumping out to help and the whole place is chaos. So Mom, who has never, ever been able to walk away from an animal in need, pulls a U-turn and pulls up next to a guy running. "Is that your dog?" she asks and he tells us, no, but his buddy is up there trying to get the dog. So we peel out and try to catch up to his buddy. We don't see him, but we do see the dog. Mom pulls up next to the little pup and I open the door and in she jumps. By the time we turn around and get back to where all the cars are, no one is left. So we have a dog and no one to give it back to. Eventually, we take it to the kennel and when they call to tell us that they have to put the dog down, Zoey joins our family. She was sweetest thing, so happy to see everyone and everything. She was small, so jumping on the couch was a big deal, but nothing could keep her away from cuddling with you. She had doggy asthma (I'm not making that up) and coughed and hacked constantly. It was embarrassing walking her around the neighborhood, but she was so happy, it was hard to deny her it.  She was loyal beyond anything and everyone loved her. Eventually she couldn't get around much and you could tell she was in pain a lot so we had to let her go. I still tear up thinking about the last time I saw her and I don't think I can type much more about her.
       I have only had cats since Zoey and I don't think I would ever want another dog. Zoey wasn't planned, she just kind of happend, like the Lorelei in the story. But these animals leave their mark and I know how important our pets are to us. Stories like these celebrate our animals like they should be. They are members of our families, the one who know us best and love us anyways. Those who don't have pets or don't think much of cats or dogs will never understand and never know what that's like and to those I feel sad. There is nothing like the unconditional love of a pet you take care of. And that will always mean something to me.
     Thank you for putting into words how special our animals are and for those of us who love them like family. This is much more moving that that awful ASPCA commercial that I have to change everytime it airs.

Sincerely,

KT

Dear Stacey Ballis,

Dear Stacey Ballis,
     Thank you for giving me such a fantastic and perfect summer read. Good Enough to Eat is a sweet story with a backbone that shows a characters flaws and makes you love her for it. I had alternatives motives when buying this book, but I have none recommending it.
     Originally I bought this book because of Jen Lancaster. I have loved reading about Bravo nights and trips to the opera. I loved reading about the friendship and the hilarious things that happen. So of course, I knew I'd have to read this book. Ironically, I remember seeing this book in hardcover in Target a while back, before I put two and two together and remember how nice it seemed and how much the cover reminded me of home. So when Bill and I were at the Book Warehouse and I found this book, I snatched it up as fast as I could. The story is fabulous as it seems to begin where a big girl's happily ever after ends. If you are a big girl and then lose all the weight, what happens next? That's what I loved about this story. I have seen so many stories about women losing weight and then in the end they are skinny and they get the guy and everything is great. But it's not that simple. I love that the character has relapses and needs support. I respect the honesty of the what you may look like when all that weight is gone and how that makes you feel too. I love that losing a whole person sometimes means becoming a new person too.
    But there is another side to this, food. I love good food. I always have. I love cooking and baking and that thing you feel feeding others. So when it comes to the food stories in the beginning of each chapter, not only could I relate, I was reminded of my own stories from my family. How my friends thought my mom must be constantly making apple pies because everytime they came over there was a pie there. How we HAD to make raviolis when the Patriots played or they wouldn't win and they tasted so so much better when they won. The first meal I made for Bill. The first things he made for me. My christmas chicken wings that try as I may, I cannot make them taste like my moms. And the best part of this is the memories that we all have with food. How no one makes something as good as mom. How the best times can sometimes have the best food. I have good food memories like many people and it's a nice connection we can all make. In my opinion, you are just fooling yourself if you say you don't have any good food memories.  Lots of people don't want to talk about it, maybe they think that talking about food makes them look weak or unhealthy. Maybe, but food is not something that we can go without so why try to ignore it?
      Besides all the food, I love that Mel doesn't follow the same generic path as you may think. The ending is one that doesn't feel the need to come to a clear and straight conclusion. I feel that some author's aren't brave enough to let the ending be not tidy and not happily ever after. But I do understand how wonderful friends can be in your life and I do feel a strong connection to that.
   I spent the majority of the time reading this book in the sunshine on a boat. It was the perfect way to read this story, but I got so into it, I read it in the car, while everyone else was watching a movie and late into the night. I know that is the showing of a great story. I did not want it to end, but I couldn't stop. Thank you for this story and the strength to say out loud that food is good and so am I.

Sincerely,
KT

Good Enough to EatGood Enough to Eat

Dear Helen Fielding,

Dear Helen Fielding,
 Bridget Jones is the voice of my generation and I'm damn proud to be represented by her. Reading Bridget Jones's Diary for the first time was finding out all those little secrets and idiosyncrasies that you and only you had; everyone had.All the bad choices we make, all the crazy thoughts and feelings and never really growing up, Bridget does it too. She made it fun to be crazy, and as I said before, you can make crazy look good.
  I was looking at my book shelf trying to figure out which book to write about next and saw Bridget Jones. I was just going to read the first few pages and then I couldn't stop. I read the entire thing in two bath tub soakings and a sleepless night. And I have read it over and over again. I know what's going to happen, I know when it's going to happen but I still love it. It's a great story that really connects people.
   Bridget paved the way for all the new women are powerful ideal, like Sex and the City. Bridget showed that you can be necrotic and brave, holding it together and falling apart and not perfect. I love that these women came along when I was in my teens and twenties and I didn't have to think I was alone and strange for thinking and overthinking. That all I was doing was normal and okay.
    Having so much respect for this book,it kills me that people put it down. Why is this chick lit? Why is this not accepted like it should be? Because it has a relationship in the center of the story? Because there is talk of shopping and girl issues? This is a great story and maybe I do connect it because I'm a girl but I think the label chick lit is sometimes viewed as a bad thing. Now I love that most women have taken it up as a badge of honor (especially my girls at Chick Lit Central) but I'm tired of hearing it. I have a minor in English Lit and loved my women lit classes with the serious literature that came along with that. I just feel that stories like Bridget Jones should be taken seriously as well. There is so much good writing out there and just because it's about a girl and a guy doesn't mean it's bad.
  So thank you Helen Fielding. I believe your story has changed so many women's lives and it will continue to live on with the quirky, messy fabulous Bridget.

Sincerely,
KT



Bridget Jones's DiaryBridget Jones's Diary

Dear Kristen Chenoweth,

Dear Kristen Chenoweth,
   I heart you. Years and years ago I saw you on the Rosie O'Donnell show singing the Girl in 14 G and couldn't believe all those parts, Opera, Jazz and Pop song were coming out of one person. As a theater geek, I was enchanted by Wicked, although I only knew your version by soundtrack. By Pushing Daisies and Glee, I was telling Bill, "Oh Kristen Chenoweth, I love her." But now hearing your story and your principles and, just from your writing, seeing what a good, kind person can accomplish, I adore you even more. Your story should be told every time Paris Hilton is on the screen to combat the negative ideals out there for women to absorb. I hope young girls can read your story and see you don't have to do awful terrible things to succeed. You can be yourself and have your faith and still come out on top.
   When I first started reading this memoir, I had some trouble with the flow. I found myself rereading parts to try and get the voice from the story. Then I saw an episode of Pushing Daisies with you talking. From there, I was all set. As long as I could hear that tone of your voice, and how little side comments are said, then the story came alive. I love hearing a real voice in writing, especially since I spend forever trying to get my students to do that in their writing. By the story itself is so wonderful. From down home beginnings to Tony awards, it feels like an "aw-shucks, just little ol' me" tone that you don't hear in most memoirs. I love that. I love that everything is laid out on the table, good and bad. I love that there aren't excuses and no sugar coating. I love the little recipes that make this feel like a conversation. More than anything, I love that happiness, believing in yourself and not giving up in anything, especially your faith take center stage.I was expecting more of a This Is When I Did This Wonderful Thing, and This Is When I Did That Wonderful Thing, story with gory details of Wicked and other shows. I thought I would connect to this story as a theater person, but now I can say anyone can connect to this story just by being a human being.
 That being said, I do have a strong connection to the theater aspect of this story.  I love the theater. I love seeing live shows, but more than anything I love being in live shows. Theater geeks will understand, there is something intoxicating about performing in front of others. The process of putting the show together, watching it build and come together and finally seeing it from start to finish, I and many other performers, have such a sense of pride and accomplishment. I have been in a good amount of shows, nothing too exciting but when I moved to Florida, Aimee introduced me to the Emma Parish theater in Titusville. We did Camelot together first, which was fun but included a whole lot of sitting and waiting backstage. It's a fun costume show and was a great way to introduce myself to the Titusville crew. The next show I did with them was Ragtime. Ragtime was magically. Ragtime was unlike anything I had ever done and most of us felt that way. I remember one music rehearsal, before we did any blocking, we were practicing a song, I think it was Til We Reach that Day, and when we finally sang it all the way through and finished, everyone just sat in silence. It was unbelievable. No one could believe that that noise that come from us. The whole show was like that. Everything was amazing and the music we created was unreal. I was really sad to see it end but so so so grateful for the experience. I did Pirates of Penzance in Cocoa Beach after that. It was such a fantastic cast in a funny, don't take yourself serious experience. That crew was so warm and welcoming that even showing up knowing no one, and having no support, I still felt like a part of something so great. I really needed that in that time in my life and the theater was able to give it to me.
  So with my tiny, insignificant experience in theater, I can't imagine what it was like to be on Broadway and how unbelievable that must feel. I watch the Tonys and drool over the new shows (Doesn't Book of Mormon look UNBELIEVABLE??) and dream of what that could possibly be like. But I know that I am a Central Florida Community Theater Chorus Member through and through. It doesn't mean I love it any less and since moving I miss it very much. I look often to see if there are any shows around here but so far nothing. Someday I know I will get back into it because the theater doesn't leave you. You always want to be part of it whether you just watch it or you get into it. This story makes me want to go back in. If and when I get the opportunity, I will keep the lessons of this book, working hard, putting everything into it, having fun, trying new things, and go out there and give it my all.


Sincerely,
KT


A Little Bit Wicked: Life, Love, and Faith in Stages

Dear Jen Lancaster,

Dear Jen Lancaster,
      How do I write this without sounding like a fangirl or Oprah guest? Your books are awesome. I have never found books I connect to like these books. I have actually written a letter to you, but here I will write as if I hadn't before. Jen, you are so "fetch" (mean girls reference :-) ).
     The first book I found was Such a Pretty Fat. As one who has ridden the diet train many many times, I connected to everything in the story. I too know what it's like to try and be tough but sometimes when some idiot says something stupid, you just break down. I know the world of the gym, mostly for working at one. I have seen those idiot gym girls with less on than you'd where to the beach giggling and flirting while sweat is pouring down my face. I also seem to continue to punish myself by attending group aerobics. My latest encounter was in a rich suburban near here with moms who never need to work, wearing $300 worth of workout gear. They are singing along, yelling to the instructor to go harder and asking each other, "what are you doing tomorrow? you want to meet for coffee?" Meanwhile, I am in the back in my target workout clothes (clearance!) so red in the face, you'd think I was part lobster. What am I doing tomorrow? WORKING. Shut up and keep punching the imaginary things in the air! I am here to work out, not listen to you like a bad sitcom scene. Even with that, I may not be having the results you had, but I'm on my way and doing better than I have in a while.I know that in the end it's only how you feel and who loves you for you that matter.
    Bitter is the New Black came just a few months after that when we had just moved to Orange County and I didn't have a teaching job. I knew I was taking a risk leaving one teaching job without having another in a the years when hundreds of teachers were being fired. Bill bought me Bitter is the New Black and Bright Lights, Big Ass for my birthday. As I was reading Bitter, summer was slowly fading away and I was coming to the realization that I was now just another Disney minimum wage employee and I wasn't going to be a teacher that year. I was beyond depressed when the first day of school came and went with no options. Four weeks later, I was teaching in that affluent suburb, happier than I had been in any other teaching job. In the end, it all came together and we were all better because of it. Had I had to go to unemployment, I knew to leave the designer clothes at home. (see Dear Phillip Done to see how things changed from there).
    The strongest connection I ever read was in My Fair Lazy. I love me some trashy TV. Now, I think these shows are great, but I get so much flack from Bill about them. One of my all time favorite awful shows is Real World/ Road Rules Challenge. For those of you who don't know, it takes previous MTV reality stars and put them in competition with each other. There have been many different version of the Challenge with how the teams are formed and what the rules are. Fresh Meat, The Duel and the Ruins are my top three favorites. One night, Bill came home and went to take a shower, like an addict I secretly changed the channel to watch while he was gone, even though it was being taped by the TIVO in the other room. With two minutes left, I didn't switch it off when he walked back into the room. Bill couldn't get over it. "Why are you watching this crap? You are too smart to like this!" I huffed him off explaining that I just love this and after a long day of thinking, I want to tune off and watch some nonsense. A few weeks later, My Fair Lazy came out. The very first chapter made me nearly fall off my chair. Jen and Fletch are having the exact same conversation. Fletch cannot understand why Jen likes this same crappy TV show. When Bill came home that night, I made him sit and read the chapter out loud to him like my students. See? I'm not the only one was repeated multiple times that night.
   We all feel, at least from time to time, that no one has ever or will ever feel the way we feel. Whether it's about work or relationships or ourselves, we wonder, is it just me? For me, it was unbelievable to find so many parts of myself in these books and I think a lot of your readers feel the same way. I have tried to figure out what it is that makes us all feel connected and what I think it comes down to is being real regardless of how it may look to everyone else. When you write, you can write yourself how ever you want. You can make yourself as elegant or poised as you desire. But when you write how you took an old raisinette out of the bottom of your purse and ate it, that is real life and something I'd probably due myself. So many stories and books just show the nice, pretty side of things, but when you put in all the good and all the bad, we see the reflection of all the good and all the bad that make us up too. I think if I had to tell what message I get from reading your novels, it would be it might not always be pretty, but it's a damn great ride.
      As I am reading the latest book, If You Were Here I find myself connecting to all the crazy adventures we had buying this house. But most of all, I am just enjoying myself when I'm reading. And in the end, as an author, isn't that the most important part? Thank you for your books and never being afraid of saying what you're thinking. Your fans appreciate it.

Sincerely,
KT

If You Were Here: A Novel

Dear Chuck Klosterman,

Dear Chuck Klosterman,
    This is a hard letter to write. When I first read Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs and Killing Yourself to Live I knew I had found my favorite author. Lately, it's just not that same. So I choose to talk about those two books and not V and the other one I can't even name because I never finished it.
    Once again, the story. After leaving Umass Dartmouth, I missed the deadline to send in my transcript and didn't get into Westside State. I was devastated, beyond devastated. My options were skip a semester or go to a community college. I didn't like either option. Eventually, I choose HCC and the idea that although (I thought) I was better than everyone, I'd rather keep going than do nothing. So here I was at a community college and I was not liking it.SO I spent a LOT of time in Holyoke at and near the mall. Soon, I realized that HCC was not beneath me. I had challenging classes, with professors who cared, and people who amazed me. oh, I feel whiny and complainy cause I have a waitressing job and I go to school? Oh, you are a mother of three who takes the bus here between two jobs and you have a perfect GPA? I'll shut up now. Anyways, even as I grew to really enjoy and appreciate HCC, I still found myself at Barnes and Nobel all the time. So, browsing the new or recommended or something, I came across Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. The title alone had my attention. I opened to the first page and read how you blamed your shatter love life on John Cusak. Perfect, I remember walking directly to a chair and reading the entire first chapter and kept whispering, "yes" Yes, I love Say Anything. Yes, I secretly think that John Cusak is exactly like Lloyd in that movie. Yes, romantic movies do ruin relationships. I ran out of the store, after paying of course and loved every chapter. Every single chapter I connected to, I understood and I couldn't believe someone else was thinking the same things I did. From Billy Joel, Country Music, Saved by the Bell, everything. And even better, I could pick up the book over and over, pick a chapter and go. I read that book over and over. I just enjoyed it every time. Once I finally got into Westfield, I would get the strangest looks in my ed. classes reading a book with that title. Didn't care. I loved it.
     I stumbled upon Killing Yourself to Live the same way. On the way out of another Barnes and Nobel, not planning on buying anything, there as close to the door as possible was the new book. I think I shrieked. My family was away on vacation which I wasn't planned into since I was suppose to be in Maine working at an all girls camp. Change of plans and I spent the two weeks playing house with the tattoo boyfriend and reading this book. I ignored just about everything I could and read this book. At first, I have to admit, I am I guess naive and the drug use, though slight, it did freak me out. But, I got past that. Like Cocoa Puffs, I was drawn in immediately, especially since it takes place basically by my house. Writing about driving past the Basketball Hall of Fame, I drove that same route everyday, twice a day. All these places I knew and I was hooked with the travel log. I loved the story upon story between the women who loved, the people who died and all the places in between. I can pick this story up anytime and enjoy it as well. I don't know why. It's a fantastic and I love it.  
    Lately, I don't feel the same. I will keep reading and keep trying and maybe someday I will. Maybe I will come to a point in my life that the stories speak to me. I still enjoy Cocoa Puffs and Killing Yourself and still consider you one of my favorite authors. This is not a hate letter but a fan letter. I am still a fan and hope to see and continue to see new work. But I miss the silliness and the connections. But people grow up, authors grow up and things change. I think that's what bothers me most. Of course an author is going to grow and change. I just didn't want you to.

Sincerely,

KT

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto