If you aren't familiar with "Mormon Mentions," a special feature here at BBB, let me explain: My name is Susan. I'm a book blogger. And I'm a Mormon. (You've all seen/heard these ads, right? I love them.) As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (commonly known as the Mormon Church), I'm naturally concerned about how my religion is portrayed in the media. Since this is a book blog, I like to highlight passages about my church that I find in the books I read. I also like to give my opinion (surprised, aren't you?) about those passages - correcting misconceptions, explaining confusing/controversial doctrine, and laughing at the sometimes crazy Mormon culture of which I am apart. It's fun for me, but if it's not your kind of thing, feel free to skip these posts.

Okay, here we go.

Considering that Tom Perrotta's new novel, The Leftovers, talks a lot about faith and religion, I wasn't surprised to find a couple of references to the church in it. Right at the beginning of the book, are these:

"People disappeared, millions of them at the same time, all over the world. This wasn't some ancient rumor - a dead man coming back to life during the Roman Empire - or a dusty homegrown legend, Joseph Smith unearthing golden tablets in upstate New York, conversing with an angel. This was real" (2).

"Interestingly, some of the loudest voices making this argument belonged to Christians themselves, who couldn't help noticing that many of the people who'd disappeared on October 14 - Hindus and Buddhists and Muslims and Jews and atheists and animists and homosexuals and Eskimos and Mormons and Zoroastrians, whatever the heck they were - hadn't accepted Jesus Christ as their personal savior. It was a random harvest, and the one thing the Rapture couldn't be was random" (3).

Both of these selections are narrated by 46-year-old Laurie Garvey, an agnostic who's trying to make sense of the Rapture-like event that has recently snatched up millions of people from off the face of the Earth. Naturally, she's skeptical of all religion, including one that embraces the idea of an uneducated American farm boy as a prophet of God. As unlikely as it may sound, members of the LDS Church really do believe that, as a young man, Joseph Smith did, in fact, see an angel, as well as Jesus Christ and God the Father. We believe the angel gave Smith golden plates containing ancient scripture, which he then translated and published as The Book of Mormon. It sounds crazy, I know, but so does feeding 5,000 people with five loaves of bread and two fishes. I believe it, nonetheless. (To read Joseph Smith's story, in his own words, click here.)

The second passage is interesting because Mormons don't get "saved" or "born again" in the traditional sense. We're taught from birth that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer. It's something that's acknowledged and accepted right from the start. Getting baptized is a way to make our commitment to Him public, but even LDS children who are under 8 (the age at which kids born into the LDS Church are baptized) know who Jesus is and what He's done for them. It's just part of being Mormon. For a much more eloquent explanation, click here.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, Dictionary.com defines Zoroastrianism as "an Iranian religion, founded c600 b.c. by Zoroaster, the principal beliefs of which are in the existence of a supreme deity, Ahura Mazda, and in a cosmic struggle between a spirit of good, Spenta Mainyu, and a spirit of evil, Angra Mainyu." Who knew?

Raine O'Rourke knows her mother used to be a bit of a wild child. She's heard the stories about her young, hippie Mama standing barefoot on European street corners playing her guitar. But that was a long time ago. Now, Molly O'Rourke's just a regular mom. Which is why her sudden decision to spend the summer working as a housekeeper at a remote artist's colony doesn't make any sense. As much as Raine wants to stay in Milwaukie with her beloved Grandpa Mac, her mother isn't giving her a choice. They'll both be spending the summer at Sparrow Road.

Spooked by the estate's creepy main house, irritated by the colony's ridiculous no-talking rules and lonesome for everything she left behind, Raine's pretty sure she's going to hate Sparrow Road. But as she gets to know the artists who live there, she starts to feel more at home. And when she hears an elderly poet talking about the children who live on the estate, Raine's intrigued. She hasn't seen anyone under 30 at Sparrow Road. The mystery, which seems to revolve around the estate's secret history, intrigues her.

Raine's even more puzzled by her mother's odd behavior. Molly keeps Raine sequestered at Sparrow Road, refusing to let her explore the nearby town or go to any of the community's summertime activities. It makes no sense. Until Molly finally confesses why she really brought rain to the artist's colony. Suddenly, Raine's up to her elbows in old secrets. Can she find all the answers she's searching for? More importantly, what will she do with these revelations, especially the one that could change her life forever?

Sparrow Road by Sheila O'Connor is one of those like-the-premise-not-so-much-the-execution type of books. While I thought the premise of this one sounded interesting, I didn't feel a lot of connection to the characters, the setting or even really the plot. I know a lot of people love Sparrow Road, but I just wasn't feeling it. It's nothing I can put my finger on, though, more a kind of ambivalence. I didn't love it, didn't hate it. For me, it was just okay.

(Readalikes: Nothing's coming to mind. Any ideas?)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for mature themes

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find

Addison Schmeeter knows what normal is. Or maybe she doesn't, but at least she knows what it's not. It's not a mom leaving her kids for nights on end without letting them know where she is or when she'll be home. It's not a mom refusing to get out of bed for a week. It's not a 12-year-old doing all the cooking, cleaning, and shopping. It's not a parent acting like a child. The way Addie and Mommers live - nothing about it is normal. Addie knows their situation's unconventional (to say the least); she also knows she can't tell anyone about it, not if she wants to avoid ending up in foster care. Besides, Mommers needs her. Addie can't abandon her mother, no matter how crazy Mommers acts sometimes.

So, Addie hides the truth about her mother's violent mood swings - from her teachers at school, from her grandfather, and from her new friends across the street. Only Addie's ex-stepfather knows how bad Mommers gets sometimes, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't really help Addie. She knows he'd take her to live with him and her little half-sisters if Mommers would let him, but she won't. No way. She hates Dwight. And since he's not Addie's biological father, he can't legally force the issue. So Addie waits. And waits. For normal to make an appearance in her increasingly wonky life.

At least, Addie's in a new neighborhood, attending a new school. No one in this part of Schenectady knows her or Mommers. It's easier to hide. Until things get complicated. Suddenly, along with daily survival in an always-unpredictable home, Addie's got to deal with a friend's devastating secret, Dwight's new romance, and the intense stage fright that grabs hold of her every time she thinks about her upcoming violin solo. She'll have to face it all, while, at the same time, trying to predict what her mother will do next, where she will (or will not) show up, and how she's going to keep Mommer's erratic behavior a secret from prying eyes.

Although not as hard-hitting as other novels about children dealing with a parent's mental illness, Waiting for Normal is nonetheless affecting. The 2009 Schneider Family Book Award Winner by Leslie Connor takes a poignant look at one girl's brave fight for normality despite living with a mother whose manic-depression makes her life anything but. While I didn't love the book, I do think it's a well-written story about an important issue.

(Readalikes: Reminded me of Miles From Ordinary by Carol Lynch Williams, You Are My Only by Beth Kephart, and Small As An Elephant by Jennifer Richard Jacobson, and A Blue So Dark by Holly Schindler)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: I waffled between PG and PG-13, but finally settled on the latter because of mild langauge, intense situations, candid discussions of female issues associated with puberty and references to homosexuality.

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Waiting for Normal from the generous folks at Katherine Tegen Books (an imprint of Harper Collins). Thank you!