Were I to wish for one possibility, it would be truth in sentencing for criminals. Not as proposed through legal wrangling by lobbyists, but the actual facts as seen through the eyes of crime victims themselves. In this book, the dead speak of their own tragedy that has befallen them through their own words, but not in conventional means. Imagine if you will the ability to pick up an object and know exactly who touched it before you, and their hopes, dreams and sadness that surrounded them. Such is the discipline of psycometry...the ability to touch an object and know it's history. Natalie Lindstrom, the main character, has just such an ability, and can actually see what the victim saw just before their demise.Employed by both the police and FBI, Natalie is called on to testify in court cases involving lives cut short by murderous acts. As a criminal justice nerd, this idea is fascinating to me, as are the reprocussions. The few characters in this book with this talent have strikingly violet colored eyes, and thus stick out like a sore thumb amongst others. Contact lenses are their salvation. ( i think that sentence is one of the oddest things i have typed, and cannot help but giggle at the thought of salvation through lenses) Picture if you knew someone in your town had this skill, and it was proven...how would others react? They would both be vilified and praised, stalked and shunned. But the dead speak...and they speak volumes in this book. Pick it up, it's worthy of a summers day, as are it's sequels
April 22, 2007 We never had a chance to go on a honeymoon, but as poor romantics, I was thinking my husband and I would travel someplace wonderful on our first anniversary. Since Italy is out of my price range, perhaps I can talk him into this:
I lead a small life, in a small town. I grew up in the lovely city of Seattle surrounded on the outskirts by large roaming forests, with trees so tall and so old that you feel if you lean in close and listen with your heart, they will whisper the secrets of life to you. In this new town I live in, the trees were largely planted by housing developers in the 1980's, and seem like petulant teenagers with no secrets to tell, but my books made of old trees whisper their stories to me. Where would I like to go today, if I could travel anywhere? Italy would be my first answer, and Frances Mayes' books on Italy call to me. Who would I invite over for coffee and a long rambling conversation? The answer lies in the biography of George Washington, as written by Irving, as I have many questions on where he intended his fledgling country to go. So you see, in my small town where I live my small life, I can dream sweeping epic sized dreams, of poets and politics, of travels and study, and of what my own dreams are as they ebb and flow like the tides, ever changing. I often have thought that you can tell the most about a person based on what books they read, and on what shoes they wear. My bookcase on display has most of my small antique prized collection, whereas my bookcase in my bedroom holds primarily schoolbooks and trade paperbacks. Decide what you will based on my books. My shoes shall remain a mystery.........
My heart loves leather ribbed old books, but in a pinch I have taken in several vinyl bound volumes. They are the poor man's gilding, the attempt at elegance that usually fails, but should be commended for trying. Thus, I have many books that would make the average antiquarian book lover cringe, but every book deserves a shelf, even if they are plasticized monstrosities. Don't blame the books, blame the publisher.
