In her emotional debut memoir, Yeasting tells the painful story of losing her fiance to cancer.
Why would a lively, attractive woman begin dating a terminally ill man she didn’t know? According to Yeasting, Michael Chu was easy to love. After meeting on a dating website, the two fun-loving Canadians instantly clicked. Michael was open about his terminal lung cancer, and Yeasting decided to accept a future broken heart and get to know him. The couple quickly became “soul mates” and spent more than a year together, living life to the fullest. They had a lot in common, including a love for travel, and visited beautiful places together, like Hawaii and the Dominican Republic. Yeasting’s love remained steadfast as Michael’s health faded, and when an additional tumor was discovered in his brain, she was there for him throughout the successful surgery. A two-time divorcée, Yeasting had been hesitant to remarry in the past, but when Michael proposed, she eagerly said yes. Unfortunately, he died in hospice care before they could marry. Much of their relationship is told via sugary love emails reprinted here (the book unfortunately repeats email addresses, etc., for all digital communication). In fact, along with email headers, the memoir could cut many unnecessary details, including dinner plans. However, Yeasting’s voice is honest and likable. She unblinkingly reveals the good (she was there for Michael when he could no longer walk) and the bad (she stormed out after an argument) aspects of her strong personality. Writes Yeasting, “I am old-fashioned but with a twist and a dash of spice.” Though the subject is somber, the black-and-white photos serve to lighten the tone. The book spans several years after Michael died, and the author plumbs her grieving process. Written as a form of self-therapy, Yeasting’s bittersweet account may comfort others who are grieving.
Diarylike reminiscences of a lost love that range from mundane to moving.
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)