I don't usually post on Sunday (day of rest and all that), but since this kinda sorta has to do with church (mine, anyway), I'm going to go ahead:

The LDS Publisher blog is sponsoring Summer Book Trek, a reading challenge that encourages people to read books by authors who are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (commonly referred to as the LDS Church or the Mormon Church).  You do not have to be LDS to participate.  Before you turn away, thinking this is just a ploy by those sneaky Mormons to lure you into their clutches with a bunch of preachy books, STOP!  Any kind of book (except maybe picture books—not sure on that one) counts as long as it's by an LDS author and, honey, there are a whole lot of them:  Stephenie Meyer, Ally Condie, James Dashner, Brandon Sanderson, Brandon Mull, Dan Wells, Robison Wells, Kimberley Griffiths Little, Bree Despain, Emily Wing Smith, Brodi Ashton, Glen Beck, Richard Paul Evans, Jessica Day George, Shannon Hale, Janette Rallison, etc.  And that's just a short list of the ones who write books geared toward the general public.  There are plenty more.

Need another reason to join up?  How about this—prizes!  LDS Publisher has lots and lots of books and other fun stuff to give away.  There are many easy ways to earn points.  Plus, so far, there aren't many participants, which means you've got an even greater chance of winning prizes.  And, oh yeah, the rules are totally flexible.  You can read as many or as few books as you'd like.  You can change your reading list—add items, subtract them, alter them, whatever—at any time.  So, really, why wouldn't you join?

The challenge runs through the month of August (although you can start earning points now), and it's going to be lots of fun. Wanna join up?  Click here for all the details.


Here's a very tentative (and no doubt unrealistically ambitious) list of the books I'm hoping to read:  


The Hollow City by Dan Wells
Faith, Hope & Gravity by Merrill Osmond
Infinity Ring by James Dashner
Twitterpated by Melanie Jacobson
Evertaster by Adam Glendon Sidwell
Breaking Beautiful by Jennifer Shaw Wolf
Everneath by Brodi Ashton
Possession by Elana Johnson

I know.  It's impossible, but that's the cool thing about this challenge, I can add/delete titles at any time.  Sweet!

When 20-year-old Chris Kerry heads to the University of Utah to take advantage of a full-ride scholarship, he promises his aunt one thing: He will not become a Mormon. Although he no longer believes in the Baptist church to which she's devoted, he's not exactly shopping for a new religion either. No Mormons? No problem. He can do that much for the woman who's raised him since toddlerhood. Besides, she made him swear on a Bible and, no matter which church you go to, there's no arguing with that.

Despite a rough beginning, the young Texan soon settles into college life. He's got a steady job, a vermin-free apartment, and two Idaho coeds who make sure he doesn't starve to death. The work's nothing spectacular (it's a tuxedo rental shop, after all), but his eccentric co-workers keep him entertained; his bachelor pad houses exactly one piece of furniture, but it's enough; and the girls are not cover models, but sweet, thoughtful and fast becoming his best friends. There's only one problem: Angie and Kelly are some of the most Mormon Mormons he's ever met. Not that he's going to marry either one, or even thinks of them as anything more than pals, but he's spending a lot of time with them and there's something about their innate goodness that's undeniably attractive.

As things heat up at work (the store manager's embroiled in a tawdry affair, ownership's changing hands, and the machinery's acting up just in time for the busy holiday season), his friends confront their own problems (Is Kelly really ready to get married? Why is Angie being so frosty all the sudden?), Chris is forced to confront his past (an alcoholic-fueled adolescence), puzzling dreams about his parents (Why are they dressed all in white?), and the crisis of faith that's led him away from God (Baptists? Mormons? Who's right? Does he care?). Sorting it all out means deciding what he really wants for his future. Even Chris is surprised by how his dreams have changed. Can he figure out what - and who - he is in time to get the things he wants? Can he do it without breaking his promise to his aunt? Or is there something to this Mormon thing, after all?

The Rogue Shop, Michael Knudsen's newly-published debut, is pretty typical LDS fiction. Except when it's not. It's got a good, but troubled hero (no surprise there), a vow to stay away from religion (to keep our hero internally conflicted) and some goody-to-shoes Mormon kids (to inspire Chris with their wholesome happiness) - all elements readily found in this genre. Surprisingly (and pleasantly so), Knudsen gives us a few characters not typical in LDS books. Among his cast members are a man who refuses to step inside a meetinghouse, despite his strong testimony; another whose bitterness toward the church has led him to another religion completely; and yet another who's "active," yet flagrantly breaks the 7th commandment. These are the kinds of characters Deseret Book won't touch with a 10-foot pole, the kind I find most genuine and, therefore, most interesting. Forget the Mollies from Idaho, these are the types of people I want to read about. Knudsen's willingness to take a more honest (but always respectful) look at the Mormon people is the thing I like most about his book. That and the inside jokes. I'm still snickering over Travis' instructions to search trouser pockets for "anything of good report or praiseworthy" (42).

On the downside, Knudsen makes a whole lot of rookie mistakes in his first novel. First and foremost is the newbie's tendency to describe everything - every meal, every outfit, every thought, every word. The unnecessary detail weighs the story down so much that it becomes increasingly monotonous and dull. Same with the plot. There's so much extraneous information that the tale wanders here, there and everywhere, never really finding a clear direction. Secondly, Knudsen allows his minor characters to upstage his stars. While I knew and liked Travis, for instance, neither of the Idaho girls had enough personality to stand out. Even Chris lacks the depth to make him truly intriguing. From the moment we meet him, we know exactly where he's going, exactly what he'll do, and exactly how he'll end up. No surprises = dull. Thirdly, Knudsen saves all the real action for the final fourth of the book, but even that comes off as contrived and melodramatic. Fourthly ... well, I'll stop there. It's a first novel. 'Nough said. Still, none of these problems are unfixable - a good editor could have solved the majority of them by hacking at least 100 pages off the manuscript, forcing Knudsen to make every word count, streamline the plot, and breathe some life into his leading man/woman.

All in all, I liked The Rogue Shop more than a lot of LDS novels I've read. It offers a broader look at the Mormon people, proving that we're not mindless, flawless or even sinless. The book's predictable, sure. It's also sometimes cheesy, often preachy, and always overwritten. However, it's got an authenticity I admire as well as some flashes of real cleverness (I love the pay phone scene), proving that Knudsen's a writer to watch. The man's got potential written all over him.

(Readalikes: Um, I can't think of anything specific, really. Can you?)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for references to alcoholism, extramarital affairs and "hot-blooded American" men :)

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of The Rogue Shop from the author. Thanks!

Pretty much everything I know about tsarist Russia comes from the movies Fiddler on the Roof (1971) and Anastasia (1997). I'm sure I studied world history at some point during my schooling, but when I think of early 20th Century Russia, I see animated figures dancing around Palace Square and hear Tevye singing, "If I Were A Rich Man." Yes, I do realize that my tenuous, Hollywood-tainted grasp on Russian history is slightly pathetic. However, it explains, at least in part, why I was so thrilled when Deseret Book offered me the opportunity to review Gale Sears' new novel, The Silence of God. The story unfurls in a time and place that I've only experienced through film - reading about the rich, complex history of St. Petersburg brought the setting to life like no movie ever could. If the words to "Sunrise, Sunset" floated through my head as I read, well, that's not such a bad thing, right?

Although the book is fictional, it centers around a real family, the members of which were the only known Latter-Day Saints living in Russia at the time. Johan Lindlof, the father, made his living as a gold and silversmith. His job provided enough income for the family to live in relative luxury as part of St. Petersburg's wealthy, bourgeois middle class. He and his wife were the parents of eight children, the oldest of whom was born in 1888, the youngest, in 1903. The story focuses mainly on Agnes (b. 1894), who was in her early 20s when most of the book's events take place.

The Silence of God begins with a quiet blessing of the Russian land by apostle Francis Marion Lyman. The Lindlofs are thrilled to be in the presence of a respected leader of their church and even more delighted by his prayer, which prophesies that their country will be important in the spread of the Gospel. Although the Lindlofs have great faith in the Lord, present circumstances hardly indicate an opening of minds or softening of hearts toward God. With poverty running rampant through St. Petersburg and the common people up in arms over the tsar's apparent indifference, it looks as though the city's headed for war, not religious enlightenment. When the Bolsheviks seize power, everyone's loyalties become subject. The Lindlofs become targets not only because of their money, but because of their strange American religion. Johan believes in obeying the laws of his land - he just doesn't agree with the rebels' Socialist ideals. His staunch faith, coupled with his refusal to side with the Bolsheviks, puts Johan and his family at great risk in a city pulsing with an unrest that's becoming more violent by the hour.

Natasha Ivanovna Gavrilova, a Bolshevik propaganda writer and Agnes' lifelong friend, knows the Lindlofs are good people, even if they have been bamboozled by angels and golden bibles. Her father, a university professor, has taught Natasha to think carefully about everything. And she is. Maybe too carefully, because a conversation she has with Johan Lindlof about the difference between Socialism and Mormonism's law of consecration just won't leave her mind. Who will bring peace to Russia, she wonders - Lenin and the Bolsheviks? The tsar? The Mormons? The more Natasha Ivanovna considers the question, the more confused she's becoming. When the Lindlofs suffer a terrible fate, she must decide where her loyalties lie. Only Natasha Ivanovna, a recognized Bolshevik, has the power to save her dearest friend, a woman her comrades have declared an enemy-of-the-state.

Set against the tumultuous backdrop of a country in crisis, The Silence of God is the unforgettable story of a family whose faith sustains them even in the most desperate of circumstances. As preachy or cheesy as it may sound, the book is much more than a tale of enduring to the end. Since we spend most of the story inside Natasha Ivanovna's head, we delve into the eternal and inevitable clashes between politics and religion; youthful zeal and tradition; the common people and their governments; and, of course, man's weakness v. God's power. It's these ideas, plus the way Sears makes the history come alive that makes this book so riveting. Usually, I dislike historical fiction in which the history vastly outweighs the fiction - in this book, however, I hardly cared. The drama, tragedy, and triumph intrinsic in Russia's history swept me clean away. Viewing it through the struggles of the Lindlof Family only made it more vivid, more real. Even though I had trouble keeping track of the many Lindlofs, none of whom were rounded enough to really stand out, I realized just how "close" I'd grown to them when I discovered that Sears altered their fates in the book. It still surprises me, somehow, that real life can be so much crueller than fiction.

As much as I enjoyed both Fiddler on the Roof and Anastasia, The Silence of God made me realize how much I missed by allowing them to be my only portals into Russian history. Tevye still makes me laugh and the possibility of Anastasia's survival will always capture my imagination, but Gale Sears is the one who really made it all come alive for me. I can't be quiet about this one - The Silence of God is a touching must-read. It does more justice to the richness of tsarist Russia than anything else I've encountered. Don't miss it.

(Readalikes: Reminded me a little of Dean R. Hughes' World War II series, Children of the Promise)

Grade: B+

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for war-related violence and threats of violence (both physical and sexual)

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of The Silence of God from the generous folks at Deseret Book. Thank you!

I've been reading so much dark, post-apocalyptic literature that I decided to find something a little more cheery to read. Naturally, I chose a book about the Willie Handcart Company, because what could be more cheery than that? Ha ha. Maybe you have to be Mormon to understand the irony of this statement. Maybe you have to be Mormon to understand what I'm talking about.

If you know anything about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, it's probably our pioneering heritage. Due to religious persecution, members of the church were forced to leave their homes and head for the territory that would become Utah. They called it "Zion," because it was the one place on Earth where they could practice their religon freely. Beginning in 1847, the Saints traveled across the plains of Iowa, Nebraska and Wyoming to reach the valley that would be their home. The first groups - which were organized into military-style "companies" - blazed the trail, making notes about the land, the weather, and the various dangers along the way. Thousands of Saints from the United States, Canada, Europe and Asia streamed across the plains over the next 43 years or so. From their journals, we know about the many hardships they endured - from sunburn to chapped lips to Indian raids to snakebites to starvation. We also know of their extreme faith in God, a devotion that kept them plodding along mile after mile after mile.

(The painting is "Trail of Sacrifice-Valley of Hope" by the very talented Clark Kelley Price - it's from http://www.lds.org/; Historical details are from the pioneer section on the Church's website and Wikipedia.)

Since I've already described what happened on the journey, I'm not going to go into the plot -it's basically the story of 400 people and what they encounter on the 1300 mile trek to Utah. There aren't any real subplots. The book simply follows the history, using diaries and letters to make the account historically accurate. Because of this, In the Company of Angels reads more like non-fiction than fiction. In fact, I think I would have enjoyed it much more if it hadn't been fictionalized at all. The experiences of those in the Willie Company, after all, need no dramatizing. They were exciting, harrowing, tragic and inspiring all on their own.

For me, Farland's historical fiction has too much history and too little fiction. Without any real subplots involving our narrators' personal lives, it's difficult to really get to know them. They're good "characters" - interesting to a point - but they never really come alive enough to be truly memorable. Baline and Captain Willie are, without a doubt, sympathetic and likable, but Eliza comes off as a snobby whiner. Her passages are so grating that I often wanted to skip them altogether. I think the real problem is that Farland's trying to cover too much territory. In attempting to tell the tale of the entire company, he doesn't expend enough energy on the individual, sacrificing that personal connection a reader needs to feel to really care about a character. My other beefs with the book include poor editing, so-so writing, and lack of focus.

Even though I didn't like Eliza Gadd as a character, I like the idea of using her as one of the narrators. As the only non-Mormon in the company (her husband was a devout member of the church, but she did not believe), her perspective is unique. She's openly critical of the church and its leaders, which lets Farland explore the frustration, doubt and fear that many pioneers had to have felt as they buried friends and family in shallow graves, as their limbs turned black from frostbite and as they boiled leather to keep starvation at bay. Farland doesn't shy away from or sentimentalize the pioneers' struggle - he lets the reader see the journey for what it was, mistakes, miracles, murmuring and all. It's obvious that he's done hours of research (even traveling along the Mormon Trail and pulling a handcart) on the pioneers and that he has a deep respect for them. I just think his book would have been much more effective if he'd eschewed the fiction and stuck with the facts. After all, never has the adage "Truth is stranger than fiction" been more apt than in the case of the Mormon pioneers. And that's a fact.

Just for the record, the book wasn't cheery in the least. Guess I'll go back to reading about the end of the world ...

(Readalikes: The Work and the Glory series by Gerald Lund)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: While the struggles of the pioneers can be "rated" no less than an R, this book is not overly graphic. I'm going to say PG for mild language, scenes of peril/death, and violence.

To the FTC, with love: I bought In the Company of Angels from Deseret Book.

LDS book clubs are a funny thing. A lot of them started a few years ago when Relief Society (the church's organization for women) was restructured and we were urged to plan small group activities. I think most of the clubs have moved away from church "sponsorship" for various reasons, but still exist as groups of friends who want to read books that are in keeping with their common morals. I'm not sure exactly how The Bookworms got started - I've only been in the ward (my local congregation) for a year and a half - but I've enjoyed my brief association with these ladies.

Since our group's been a little defunct as of late, our leader organized a fun kick-off. We gathered to hear Josi S. Kilpack and Julie Wright, two LDS authors, speak. Since they were staying with Janette Rallison (who, I didn't realize, lives here locally), she came along as well. The trio talked about their lives, their writing, and the unique experience of writing for an LDS market. It was fascinating, even though I have only read Kilpack, and only one of her books.

Some of the interesting things they said were:

Josi talked about how writing her own novels has stolen much of the pleasure out of reading others' books. She mentioned a 50-page rule - if a story hasn't grabbed her by then, she abandons it. I know a lot of us bloggers do this, too. My question, though, is this: Have you had this same experience with blogging? Does reviewing books steal some of the pleasure out of reading? It has for me, although I feel like critiquing others' work has been more instructive than destructive. What do you think?

Someone asked how the authors "found" the time to write. I thought Julie's answer was interesting. She said she writes in 15 minute increments. I don't know about you, but I can take just about anything for 15 minutes, be it a sports competition or a dentist drilling (which are equally torturous for me). Her advice has inspired me to work on all those novels that have been germinating in the back of my brain.

Mostly, I appreciated hearing the women talk about why it's so important to them to write clean novels. My reading always vascillates between G reads and R reads, but I love the fact that I can walk into a church bookstore knowing I don't have to worry about the content in the books I choose. Now, you know how I feel about LDS lit, but listening to these ladies convinced me to give it another go. I love that there is this new crop of writers who are making the genre better and better every day. So, for those of you who are sick to death of hearing me talk LDS lit, I apologize, because I'm not done yet :)