Reviewed by Kristin Benson

China Ghosts, a memoir written by journalist and father, Jeff Gammage, is about … well, China. (It is also about ghosts, primarily the kind that haunt one’s psyche.) In reading China Ghosts, we learn a little about Chinese history, culture and politics, and lot about his daughters, Jin Yu and Zhao Gu. While Gammage’s narrative takes us to China and back – twice — his story is really about the process of adopting girls from China. Except that it is not.

Thinking that I would be reading about another parent’s journey into parenthood – what I’d expected to be a much different journey from my own – I instead found a touching account of something so few parents are able to articulate: how we fall in love with our children. In surprising bursts of intimate and heartfelt language, Gammage is able to communicate both his love for his daughters and the deep and engulfing sense of responsibility that he has to them. He writes that many parents reduce their experiences to clichés (but that clichés are clichés because they are true). Fortunately, he is able to avoid this fate by artfully articulating both the gravity and levity of parenthood. While there is much about the relationship between Gammage and his daughters that is unique – for example, my father did not spend enormous amounts of time, energy, and resources in an attempt to track down the smallest clue about my first days of life – the strength of the book comes from how he translates these specifics into commonalities. Its strength lies in its resonance.

There is a scene toward the end of the film Children of Men in which the faint cries of a newborn are able to arrest the movement and hearts of a swarm of armed soldiers. While contextually and artistically worlds apart, this scene communicates a sentiment echoed in China Ghosts: our children hold the power to transform us, to make us better people, and, for this, we owe them the world.

Reviewed by Erin Kirkland

All parents of children with disabilities remember the moment of sobering prognosis for their son or daughter. Word that their child will never be “normal”, that every day of his or her life will be an exercise in patience and unconditional love. In the case of children living with Asperger Syndrome, 1 out of 150 mothers will know this feeling. Amalia Starr is one of them, and Brandon is her son.

Starr’s first book, “Raising Brandon” was born out of a desire for resources and information about her son’s Asperger Syndrome (AS) and a seizure disorder. Married, with one son already, Starr’s life changed drastically when Brandon made his appearance and led his family on a roller-coaster existence full of uncertainty and fear coupled with moments of absolute joy and contentment.

“Raising Brandon” is not a true biography of Starr’s family, rather, it is (and is marketed so) a trade publication designed for parents, educators and others who live and work with children with Autism Spectrum Disorders. Starr drives home issues like diagnoses, support systems, and educational options through honest and straightforward witnessing of her own experiences. At the end of each chapter, Starr recaps with a short listing of bullet points, useful information pertinent to the message.

Brandon and Amalia are clearly the main focus of this story; mothers, after all, are often the primary caregivers to children with AS. They are the advocates, the personal care attendants, the cheerleaders, and the rabblerousers who have their work cut out for them. Starr makes neither apologies nor excuses for her quest to find Brandon the most optimal situations for schooling, medical support, and eventually, independent living.

Starr also reminds us that other family members are affected by a disabled child. A subsequent failed marriage led Amalia through her own private hell during which time self-doubt and utter despair nearly prevailed. Moreover, Starr’s other son must, at times unwillingly, assist his mother and deals with his own emotional backlash as the brother of the “weird kid”.

By the end of the book, we join Starr in celebrating Brandon’s ultimate ability to manage his Asperger Syndrome and seizures. Living alone in an apartment with the support of case workers and vocational resources, Brandon deserves cheers all around for his accomplishments. Starr has progressed as well, coming to the realization that she, like all parents, must nurture her son’s desire to spread his wings and fly, however clumsily.

As a resource for parents currently supporting a child with AS, Starr’s book provides not just valuable information, but also comfort, seeing the adolescent and young adult years with realistic, honest insight. Parents will also relate to vignettes that perhaps mirror their own experiences, of great relief.

While there are flashier, trendier books available today profiling the lives, successes, and challenges of people with AS, “Raising Brandon” is a solid option for parents and teachers who may be interested in another perspective and another way of helping a child adapt to a world that appears foreign to him or her. It is a book of quiet hope.

I ought to know. I’m one of those 1 in 150 moms.

Erin Kirkland is a freelance writer from Anchorage, Alaska. You can read about her family’s journey through Asperger Syndrome at www.elituqakbrady.blogspot.com .

REMINDER: Today, July 31st, is the last day to comment and enter to win the July Online Book Club Giveaway: two rockin’ baby/kid tees from the witty and iconic Baby Wit! Only comments entered before midnight tonight EST (that’s 9pm for West Coast folks!) will be entered into the drawing!

Have you checked your family bank account lately? What about your relationship account? These are two questions that the Mama Lit July Book Club read, Mrs. Perfect, poses to the reader through the horrible twist of fate facing its lead character. The follow up to author Jane Porter’s novel Odd Mom Out, Mrs. Perfect follows the life of that novel’s nemesis, Taylor Young: the Super Mom of all Stay-at-Home Moms in a posh Seattle suburb.

We begin by examining Taylor Young’s life, focusing on the external aspects that glimmer like a glossy magazine cover: her days are spent chairing a multi-million dollar benefit auction for her daughter’s school, sipping gin & tonics with friends poolside at their elite country club, wearing expensive designer outfits, living in a lakeside mansion she helped custom design, driving a Lexus SUV. The conversations among Taylor and her girlfriends are plastic, the expectations to live life more extravagantly than others high. But we all know that behind the rich lifestyle lurks actual human beings, and this is where Porter takes the reader deeper, to a place where we can all relate, as moms, as wives, as women.

Taylor Young’s life basically gets hit by a Mack truck carrying surprises about her marriage, her family finances, and brings up thought-to-be buried past relationships (her mother) and brings forth unexpected new relationships (nemesis Marta Zinsser). While some of the scenarios play a little OC-style-dramatic for my taste, the heart of the novel is solid and its message clear: as individuals, we are all much more valuable than what others may perceive our worth to be.

Original theme? Perhaps not, but Porter with her ever present mirror pointed at today’s modern woman thankfully doesn’t leave us there. She takes us beyond the usual “money can’t buy happiness” message and through Taylor Young’s mistakes, family secrets, and her eventual journey to strength and rediscovery, Porter reminds the reader why and how money can’t buy happiness, and also how it is never too late for women to reclaim their own power, their own identities, and in doing so, thus strengthening the family unit as a whole. In today’s uncertain economy, I found this messaging to be extremely timely: Taylor Young may be your next door neighbor, your best friend, your mother, or yourself.

Porter always does a fabulous job of creating characters with flaws that most women can relate to, and strengths that most women aim to achieve. In Odd Mom Out, I completely related with Marta Zinsser’s fierce independent streak and her disdain for stereotypes. In Mrs. Perfect, I found myself relating to Taylor Young’s moments of questioning: what am I doing? Who have I — who have we, as husband and wife — become? Where are we going, and what do we want our children to take away from these life lessons? Porter more than any other female author I have encountered paints such an accurate portrait of today’s modern mother, with such aching love for her kids and such conflict within herself. More than the typical mommy wars books, Porter manages to rise above the stay-at-home versus working mom drama and brings the reader to a higher plateau of questioning, one on which we are all mothers trying to do the best for our families, merely asking ourselves — not society — how we best want to live our own lives. I can’t help but read her novels and end with an “I am woman! Hear me roar!” feeling — in a good way, of course.

Mrs. Perfect is about remembering to nurture the independent, intelligent, highly capable woman inside all of us mothers. It’s a reminder that we are in our relationships together, not separately, and that our relationships with our spouses and partners need tending to as much as our relationships with our children and our friends. Mrs. Perfect is the perfect summer read to remind us all that we are truly capable of moving mountains, determining destinies and changing lives– especially our own.

I bought the audio version of Joshilyn Jackson’s latest novel, The Girl Who Stopped Swimming, to fill ten hours’ of soccer tournament drive time with something other than mother-teen daughter arguing. I like women’s fiction, especially Southern flavor; my daughter likes ghost stories and mysteries. TGWSS promised both.

And the promise was fulfilled, in spades. We were so enthralled by Jackson’s storytelling that we not only avoided arguing, we very nearly avoided going home. The climax of the book takes place in a depressed, depressing Alabama mining town called “DeLop.” As we approached our own anything-but-depressed Alabama college town with two more cd’s to go, my daughter plugged DeLop into the GPS, thinking that we could best experience the thrilling resolution there.

Of course, there is no place in Alabama named DeLop.

But depressed, depressing mining towns from which people escape to raise children, who then grow up to raise their own children in gated, upscale, HOA- and gossip-controlled suburban neighborhoods certainly do exist. So do people like protagonist Laurel Hawthorne, a happily-married art quilter whose love for her adolescent daughter, Shelby, directs the movement of Laurel’s life the way unexplained forces move the planchette of a ouija board.

(I learned that this was the name of the ouija board’s moving piece from TGWSS, by the way. I told you it was a ghost story.)

People like Laurel do exist, and they doubtless have their secret struggles, just as Laurel does. The first of hers is a tendency to sleepwalk out the door or window and down the street, often with dangerous implements in hand. The second, and related, is an ability to see ghosts, such as the one who leads her to the body of the young girl drowned in Laurel’s swimming pool. The third struggle is her relationship with her controlling and over-the-top actress older sister, Thalia.

Jackson’s characters are so vivid that you’ll swear you could meet them if you were in the right place at the right time. Her pacing is so masterful that you’ll swear by a hundred different plausible solutions to the mystery of the drowned girl. And her voice is so compelling that an aspiring writer, like me, will just plain swear, out of pure envy.

The Girl Who Stopped Swimming is more intense than typical “mama lit,” I think, but at its heart is the mystery of motherhood, and how it can only be truly understood in light of our daughterhood. Definitely mama lit material. But don’t worry: there are plenty of bust-out-laughing episodes (generally involving Thalia).

It’s a really, really good read. And should it lead you to Alabama in search of DeLop, be sure to stop by my little town for some mama talk over a glass of sweet tea!

Before commencing with the accolades for Jenny Gardner’s new book, “Sleeping With Ward Cleaver”, let me say that Jenny is always welcome to have dinner at our house. I can’t imagine how someone who wrote this book wouldn’t be exceptional funny (like Molly Shannon), bright (like Madeleine what’s her name Secretary of State), and perhaps, even a little sarcastic. Just my cup of tea for a dinner guest!

Jenny’s book is a romantic comedy about a working mother who find herself and her husband again through all the paranoia and delusion that we all experience as parents and spouses. Luckily, Jenny’s book helps us all see the humor in the situation. The book is a well written and easy read.

The first chapter had me in stitches. Children puking. Planned and dreaded sex nights. Poorly trained pets. Poop. Oversexed single friends. And a husband who behaves like Ward Cleaver. A little something for all of us to relate to in our own lives.

This is book is the “Bridget Jones Diary” for all of us married and harried mommies! And perhaps, a good gift to give to our younger and single girlfriends. It’s a gentle and humorous way to give them a glimpse of what’s to come . . .

What I love the most about this book is the ending. It left me understanding myself and my husband a little more. I just wanted to give him one of those long and sumptuous hugs that say, “I understand.”

And at the end I was left understanding the delicate dance in romantic relationships a little more. “Sleeping With Ward Cleaver” was the perfect romantic comedy for a 30-something Mommy, who still wants to be a sexy and sassy gal, despite the spit up encrusted on all of my clothing. I can only hope Rob Reiner and friends, will put this sassy book on the big screen!