I've read Beverly Lewis before, so I expected Sanctuary (which was actually written by her and her husband, David) to be pretty much the same as her previous books. Turns out, I was right...and wrong.

This novel had a typical Lewis setting: Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. That is where Melissa "Mellie" James finds refuge after ditching the man who seems intent on killing her. When she spots him in a restaurant near her home in Connecticut, Mellie races home, packs a suitcase and leaves her house and new husband behind. She jots Ryan a quick note, knowing she can't divulge the reasons behind her disappearance without putting him in danger as well. Frantically, she flies down the freeway, trying to shake off her pursuer. When she is finally able to evade him, she drives deep into Amish country, figuring it as the last place her stalker would expect her to go. When she sees a house with a room for rent, she stops. The quaint, peaceful home is a godsend for Mellie, a place off the beaten track where she can hide in relative safety. Mellie's hostess is a young Mennonite woman named Lela Denlinger, who has been praying for a chance to become an instrument in God's hands by helping somebody. Mellie James seems the perfect candidate. As Lela observes her troubled boarder, she vows to help the woman any way she can. When the two become close, Mellie spills her story: Lela is stunned to find out that Mellie's father was an "accountant" for the Russian mob. After stealing 80 million dollars from a mobster, Emery took his young daughter and disappeared, only to be hunted down and killed by the same fiend. The money never surfaced, and now the same man is tracking Mellie, determined to find the money her father took from him so long ago. Since Mellie's teenage years, she has been hiding from this dangerous man, taking precautions to change her identity and appearance. Now, the mobster has got up with her and even if she can elude capture, she knows she can never go home and put her husband in danger. Lela assures her she is safe and that God will protect her. Still, Mellie is worried. She has good reason, because soon enough she realizes that not only does her pursuer know where she is, but he is not the only one she should fear - her husband, Ryan, may be in on the whole thing. As Mellie struggles to sort out her past and her future, she finds solace in the Plain community around her and even finds herself embarking on her own spiritual journey. In the end, Sanctuary a story about finding strength in God despite the evil running rampant in the world around us.

Sanctuary is typical Lewis fare in several ways: 1.) It involves the Amish/Mennonite community, 2.) It is told (and I do mean told - Lewis isn't much much for "showing" a story; apparently, her husband isn't either) in sloppy sentences, tired description and cliched characters, and 3.) It concerns people searching for God. The way it differs from Lewis' other novels is the whole mobster/revenge/violence thing. I haven't seen that before in her writing (I've never read David Lewis' books, but I think they're similar to his wife's), and I hope I don't see it again. Their antagonist is so cliche, it's funny. He definitely doesn't ring true, so I found him more comical than sinister. Like the antagonist in Sanctuary, most of the other characters are flat as can be, especially the very boring Ryan James. I found the Plain characters more interesting, although they all appeared to be saints, despite Lela's declaration that "We aren't perfect." Even Paul Martin, who left the Plain community (and reappears out of the blue, for no good reason whatsoever), finds only sorrow until he returns. In short, the Plain characters are too perfect; the Englischers are too generic; and the bad guys are just plain laughable. I also thought the book got very preachy and that the main characters' spiritual makeovers happened way too fast and way too easily to be realistic.

I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the ending. I thought the Lewis' would end it in the most generic way possible, but they actually surprised me.

All in all, I was pretty frustrated by the book. I do give the Lewis' kudos for producing a clean read that was inspiring, despite its many flaws. I also hope they stay away from tales of derring-do, and stick to the tried-and-true stories of Plain life for which they are known.

After being sickened by the last book I attempted to read about Jews and Nazis in WWII (The True Story of Hansel and Gretel), I unknowingly picked up another book on the same subject. Naturally, I approached the new book -- Markus Zusak's The Book Thief -- with caution. After the first chapter, however, I was so thoroughly captured that Adolf Hitler himself couldn't have pulled the book away from me. The story is that mesmerizing, that powerful.

The Book Thief boasts a unique narrator - Death - who tells the story of young Liesel Meminger. Liesel's tale begins with a train ride to Munich, where she and her brother will be placed in a foster home. Her father has long since disappeared, the whispered label of "Communist" lingering in his wake, and her mother is too poor and sickly to care for her children. Thus, the kids are shipped to Munich, where they will be delivered to The Hubermanns, their new foster parents. The journey, however, proves too difficult for the boy; our narrator is soon on the scene to collect his delicate soul. His funeral is a cold, dismal affair. However, the event saves Liesel, offering her a gift: a small, black book falls from the pocket of an apprentice grave digger. Snatching it up, Liesel pockets the treasure. Now alone, Liesel is desposited on the Hubermanns doorstep in Molching, where she begins an innocuous new life. Liesel's foster parents - Rosa and Hans - take to the child in their own, enigmatic ways. Rosa, a wardrobe-shaped woman sporting a "face decorated with constant fury," (33) swears and berates the child, abuses Liesel recognizes belatedly as affectionate. Hans, a man who appears "Not noticeable. Not important or particularly valuable" (34), becomes Liesel's savior. His quiet ways soothe her, especially when she "nightmares" about her dead brother. At these times, he sits quietly at her bedside, and it is then that Liesel begs him to read her stolen book to her. Hans is "not such a good reader myself" (65), so he instead teaches her how to read. This feat ignites a fire in Liesel, a passion for books and their words. Like everyone else on Himmel Street, the Hubermanns are poor and cannot afford books. So, Liesel begins accumulating them in the only way she can - stealing. She rescues one from a Nazi book-burning, lifts several from the mayor's library, and even receives a couple as gifts. It is only when Liesel begins sharing the books, however, that she realizes their true power. One of the most vivid scenes in the book occurs when Liesel is reading to a group of neighbors huddled in a bomb shelter:

"She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging on to her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion.

The sound of the turning page carved them in half.

Liesel read on." (381)

As bombs rain down on Molching, Liesel sees the power of words - to enliven a beaten Jew; to comfort a grieving mother; to calm the fears of her friends; to incite a nation to imprison its own; to maim; to hurt; to kill. When Liesel realizes the strength of her own words, she begins to write, a task which saves her life and touches even Death.

As fascinating as Liesel's life is, it is really only a backdrop for Markus Zusak's sermon on the power of words to influence for good and evil. He purports that Hitler seduced his people with words, writing:

"Yes, the Fuhrer decided that he would rule the world with words. 'I will never fire a gun,' he devised. 'I will not have to.' Still...his first plan of attack was to plant the words in as many areas of his homeland as possible...He planted them day and night, and cultivated them...He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany...It was a nation of farmed thoughts." (445)

The Book Thief contains countless references to words both said and unsaid. I think I could write an entire thesis on this subject alone.

Another fascinating aspect of the book is the way it personifies Death. His character is both arrogant and humble, angry and humorous, hard-nosed and compassionate, interested and dispassionate. In short, he is as realistic - as human, if you will - as the rest of the absorbing cast.

Not only does The Book Thief contain layer after layer of thought-provoking ideas, but it is a compelling story to boot. Its unique format makes it accessible, humorous and impactful without being sentimental or sappy. It's pitch-perfect with exquisitely-crafted sentences and paragraphs. It will suck you in and spit you out only when it's through with you. Resistance is futile - succumb to the magic of this incredible tale.

Okay, so I don't even know what "meme" means, but this one looked fun:

What are you reading right now? The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I'm about halfway through, and loving it! I noticed that a lot of my book blogging friends read several books at a time; I don't. I guess I just don't have enough concentration to read more than one at a time.

Do you have any idea what you'll read when you're done with that? I have bought a ton of books lately, so I have a lot from which to choose. I will have to see what I'm in the mood for after I finish The Book Thief.

What's the worst thing you've ever been forced to read? I took an LDS Literature course at Brigham Young University (BYU), and we had to read some very poorly-written books. They were written by the professor and other of his friends, so I guess that explains why we were forced to read them...I also hated reading Walt Whitman in college. *Snore*

What's the one book you always recommend to just about anyone? The Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. Despite my issues with the most recent volume, the stories are fast-paced and well-written. Plus, they're clean reads, so I recommend them knowing they won't offend anyone.

Admit it, the librarians at your library know you on a first-name basis. Actually they don't, but that's only because checkout at my library is not done by the librarians. Patrons use a little kiosk to check out books. Now, the cashiers at Borders, that's another story...

Is there a book you absolutely love, but for some reason people never think it sounds interesting, or have they read it and don't like it at all? Oh, I'm sure there are, but I can't think of any right offhand.

Do you read books while you eat? While you bathe? While you watch movies or tv? While you listen to music? While you're on the computer? Considering my sloppy eating habits, I shouldn't eat and read at the same time, but I do. I always have a book or magazine available to peruse when I eat alone. When we dine as a family, I don't allow anyone to have reading material at the table! On the rare occasion that I take a bath, I do read, yep. No, on the other questions. I have a bit of a one-track mind, so I don't read while I watch tv, listen to music or work on the computer - I have to do one thing at a time :)

When you were little, did other children tease you about your reading habits? I don't remember getting teased, but that's probably because I never read novels at school. By the time I was in high school, I purposely left my books at home so I wouldn't be labeled a nerd (horror of horrors). In my high school history class, I sat diagonally behind a girl who always brought a romance novel to class. She'd balance the book on her knees while our teacher droned on and on. She'd often sit there, reading, with tears streaming down her face, and our teacher never noticed! I wish I had been as brave as her - I would have gotten a lot of reading done.

What is the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was so good you couldn't put it down? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling

I made it almost halfway through this one before I had to quit. Don't get me wrong, The True Story of Hansel and Gretel by Louise Murphy is well-written and undeniably compelling, but I just couldn't stomach the violent imagery.

The novel begins with a Jewish couple speeding across the Polish countryside trying desperately to outrun the Nazis on their tail. At a hidden bend, they slow their motorcycle only long enough to rush their two children off into the forest. The father urges the kids to head for a nearby village and find a farmer willing to feed them. The children - now dubbed Hansel and Gretel - discover a cottage in the woods, where Magda, the town witch, takes them in. In order to get extra food rations for the children, Magda concocts a story to explain their presence to the Nazis, who control the town. While on this errand, pretty Gretel captures one of the officer's attention, which I assume leads to trouble later on.

The book follows the children's story as well as that of their father and stepmother, who also manage to evade their Nazi pursuers. The couple flees into the woods as well. There, they encounter a ragtag group of men eager to exact revenge on the Nazis and all Poles who aid them. It was when this group hangs a woman out of her bedroom window that I closed the book.

As I said before, the book is well-written and spellbinding. I cared about some of the characters, especially the kids, but not enough to stick with a story that made me sick to my stomach. I have too many books in my TBR pile to force myself to finish this one. If anyone else has read it, let me know what happens to the kids...