A memoir of one woman’s battle with cancer and her reliance on faith from debut author Kreinhop, with occasional commentary by author Calvert (How I Quit Smoking and Lived to Tell About It, 2014).
After having a tumor discovered in her chest, the author first experienced shock—“I was numb all over”—followed by tears, prayer and, eventually, a kind of spiritual acceptance. (“God had a plan. If I were part of that plan for the future, I would be in it. If not, I wouldn’t. So be it!”) And so begins a personal journey through a daunting world of doctors, tests and chemotherapy. Aided by friends, volunteers and an unrelenting belief in a higher power, the author endures the often painful and embarrassing world of a cancer diagnosis and treatment. From the struggles of getting to treatment sessions through difficult Indiana weather to the debilitating nausea of chemotherapy, the fight against cancer is never an easy one, even with the author’s tenacious pluck. Admitting at times to nervousness, self-pity and frustration (even with those who are attempting to help, such as someone who has volunteered to drive the author to the hospital even if they apparently are not very skilled at driving), Kreinhop presents her journey in an immensely believable fashion and puts a human face on the world-shattering position of such a grave diagnosis. Relatable for any reader who has been through such a journey (or may be facing one), the story maintains a steady pace, pausing only to mention—though never to linger—on moments of fear and trepidation. Abutted with personal details that help to illuminate the individuals involved (such as the author’s joy at receiving an exercise bike one Christmas), the overall feel is one of a no-nonsense family story that, though lacking in robust flourishes, maintains its verisimilitude. Short on embellishments, the story amounts to one woman’s honest telling of a very real and common occurrence.
A brisk, unadorned personal account of a trying time in one woman’s life.
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").
Noted jazz and pop record producer Thiele offers a chatty autobiography. Aided by record-business colleague Golden, Thiele traces his career from his start as a ``pubescent, novice jazz record producer'' in the 1940s through the '50s, when he headed Coral, Dot, and Roulette Records, and the '60s, when he worked for ABC and ran the famous Impulse! jazz label. At Coral, Thiele championed the work of ``hillbilly'' singer Buddy Holly, although the only sessions he produced with Holly were marred by saccharine strings. The producer specialized in more mainstream popsters like the irrepressibly perky Teresa Brewer (who later became his fourth wife) and the bubble-machine muzak-meister Lawrence Welk. At Dot, Thiele was instrumental in recording Jack Kerouac's famous beat- generation ramblings to jazz accompaniment (recordings that Dot's president found ``pornographic''), while also overseeing a steady stream of pop hits. He then moved to the Mafia-controlled Roulette label, where he observed the ``silk-suited, pinky-ringed'' entourage who frequented the label's offices. Incredibly, however, Thiele remembers the famously hard-nosed Morris Levy, who ran the label and was eventually convicted of extortion, as ``one of the kindest, most warm-hearted, and classiest music men I have ever known.'' At ABC/Impulse!, Thiele oversaw the classic recordings of John Coltrane, although he is the first to admit that Coltrane essentially produced his own sessions. Like many producers of the day, Thiele participated in the ownership of publishing rights to some of the songs he recorded; he makes no apology for this practice, which he calls ``entirely appropriate and without any ethical conflicts.'' A pleasant, if not exactly riveting, memoir that will be of most interest to those with a thirst for cocktail-hour stories of the record biz. (25 halftones, not seen)