Random Connect Points:
Reba's Stories

I’ve long been a collector of travel guides. There’s a stack on my bookshelf of books about Spain, Mexico, Italy, Thailand, France, England, Scotland, Israel and Egypt among others. Then I stopped buying travel guides somewhere in the mid-2010s when the internet put travel planning at my fingertips in real time. In today’s digital world, old fashioned travel books may seem to be obsolete. Who wants to travel with a 300-page book when the same info is available right on your phone? Not to mention, so much of the info in a hard-copy travel guide is outdated the day it’s published. For recent post-covid travel, however, I’ve become a fan of travel guides again. I enjoy going to the library and checking out a stack of books about my travel destination. I vicariously pre-travel to my destination running fingers over the colorful maps, pondering the adventures to be had in various parts of a new city. Then I pick my favorite book of the bunch and buy a copy at the local bookstore (my lat

"Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine" by Scottish writer Gail Honeyman caught my eye at the library on a book display for Mental Health Awareness Month. The cover and the title drew me in (although I ended up “reading” as an audiobook on a driving trip – the accent of the Scottish main character is spot-on). At the beginning of the book, Eleanor appears to be an eccentric young woman with a one-dimensional, rigid, and highly judgmental world view. She seems to take every experience and interaction so literally that she can’t fathom why a barista would need to know her name when ordering coffee. She's baffled at why anyone would have reason to eat in a restaurant where food is more expensive and more likely to have been touched by unclean hands. I felt the book started slow, but, as it progressed, I realized the tempo was probably part of the author’s scene-setting to lay out Eleanor’s narrow world perspective. Bit by bit, Honeyman brings the reader into the story of

When I made an impulse purchase of a shiny yellow bike eight years ago, I had no idea how much I'd learn from those 30 pounds of metal over the years. Just to be clear, this isn’t some fancy multi-speed bike that requires special shoes, flashing LED lights and an expensive water bottle. Think Pee Wee Herman on his cruiser not Lance Armstrong speeding through France. Bikes were a rite of passage when I was growing up. I treasure the photo of me and my grandfather as I sat on my first tricycle. As a tween, I loved my pink bike with the banana seat and sissy bar. The last bike I had owned as an adult was stolen from my backyard in Washington more than 25 years before. After that, it wasn’t I disliked biking … it just never came up as a mode or transportation or form of exercise. I impulsively bought the yellow bike eight years ago after spending two afternoons in Greenville riding the Swamp Rabbit Trail on a rented bike that was a perfect fit for my small frame. This one stood out pro

 As a lifelong news nerd, I love reading about the machinations of a newsroom – How do news stories actually get to the front page? Who decides if the tone of a news story is right? When do reporters know when they have gathered enough information to accurately report the truth?   My interest in the news gathering process is what prompted me to pick up “Newsroom Confidential: Lessons (and Worries) from an Ink-Stained Life” off the shelf at Litchfield Books recently. The title and cover art could lead a bookstore browser to assume this book is an intriguing work of fiction. However, a quick glance at the dust cover describes real-life backroom stories written by Margaret Sullivan who was the first woman to serve as the public editor at the New York Times and was later media columnist at the Washington Post. Most newspapers in markets the size of South Carolina don’t have a public editor. This is a role many large news organizations have on staff to provide an outsider’s perspective

  “ Our Best Intentions ” by Vibhuti Jain revolves around an Indian immigrant family living in a small, well-to-do New York suburb. The father, Barbur Singh, is raising his teen-aged daughter, Angela, alone after his wife abandons the family when Angela is a young child. With a singleness of focus and a remarkable innocence about the ways of the world, Barbur attempts balancing the grueling schedule of his small business with ensuring Angie has what she needs to succeed in her highly competitive high school swimming career. During summer vacation, Angela stumbles upon a fellow high school student who has been stabbed on the school’s football field. This discovery drops Barbur and Angela squarely into an unfamiliar world of the community’s upper crust shattering their innocence about what’s right and wrong. The book has all the elements of a well-told story. The characters are developed with plenty of subtleties that ultimately converge at the end. Jain touches on many aspects of

(Writer's note: I wrote this review in 2019 shortly after the book came out. The eighth anniversary of the shooting this week-end prompted me to pull out the book again. The podcast mentioned below is still online and is as relevant today as it was when the interview was done in 2019. This book is a must-read for anyone who thinks they might have an understanding of this complex story). Rarely does a book appeal to all my “reading” senses – well written, important message, compelling story and human connections. “Grace Will Lead Us Home” about the shootings at Mother Emanuel A.M.E. Church is one of them. J ennifer Berry Hawes  wrote the book while a reporter for the Post and Courier and witnessed first-hand many of the details surrounding this tragedy. Currently she writes for ProPublica. When I read writing by an author whose work really grabs me, I like to mark up the pages and go back and read those favorite lines over and over. This book is dog-eared with turned-do

My dream has long been to quit life and join the band. While I’ve taken up music lessons in recent years (see photo at the end), this book allowed me to vicariously live out that dream without the messiness, madness and complexities of doing it in real life. My fascination with the behind-the-scenes intrigues of being in a band played out in every chapter of this book. “ Daisy Jones and the Six ” (2018) by Taylor Jenkins Reid chronicles the rise and fall of a successful ‘70s rock band, The Six, and its lead singer, Daisy Jones. Written in a format that could be called an “oral history,” each chapter is narrated in first person from the various characters’ perspectives. The narrative feels more like an interview than traditional prose. Daisy is a strikingly beautiful and hugely talented young singer who makes her way to the stage in a band called “The Six.” The story weaves through the drama, successes, secrets, failures and personal demons of these seven people, their families and