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I GOT A NAME

THE JIM CROCE STORY

A deeply candid look into the life and times of a talented artist.

Jim Croce’s widow finally opens up about living, loving and making music with her late pop-star husband.

Before he was tragically killed in a 1973 plane crash while on tour, Croce commanded the radio airwaves. In the early ’70s, hits like “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown," “Operator” and “Time in a Bottle” made the singer-songwriter appear like an overnight sensation. In reality, it took him many years of heartache and struggle to crack the top of the charts, and Ingrid was with him every step of the way, both as a musical collaborator and a devoted wife. The couple’s profound love for one another, first ignited when Jim was still in college and Ingrid was just 16, is infused into every one of these intimate pages. Her husband’s premature death was a nightmare to all who knew him and loved his music. For Ingrid, the tragedy actually began well before he ever climbed into that doomed airplane. At some point (which Ingrid traces to a horrific incident she experienced while on vacation), Jim began to change in ways that are almost as sad, frustrating and unfathomable as his untimely demise. She recounts the many betrayals and transgressions in a heartbreaking voice. This warts-and-all portrait paints Jim as a profoundly conflicted man who might have gotten his act together had he been given the time—but maybe not. For almost 40 years, fans curious about Jim have had to satisfy themselves with his wonderful songs, but now we have a more complete picture of the man behind the music.

A deeply candid look into the life and times of a talented artist.

Pub Date: July 3, 2012

ISBN: 978-0-306-82121-9

Page Count: 288

Publisher: Da Capo

Review Posted Online: June 11, 2012

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 2012

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WHEN BREATH BECOMES AIR

A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...

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A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.

Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”

A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.

Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6

Page Count: 248

Publisher: Random House

Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015

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THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS

FROM MEAN STREETS TO WALL STREET

Well-told and admonitory.

Young-rags-to-mature-riches memoir by broker and motivational speaker Gardner.

Born and raised in the Milwaukee ghetto, the author pulled himself up from considerable disadvantage. He was fatherless, and his adored mother wasn’t always around; once, as a child, he spied her at a family funeral accompanied by a prison guard. When beautiful, evanescent Moms was there, Chris also had to deal with Freddie “I ain’t your goddamn daddy!” Triplett, one of the meanest stepfathers in recent literature. Chris did “the dozens” with the homies, boosted a bit and in the course of youthful adventure was raped. His heroes were Miles Davis, James Brown and Muhammad Ali. Meanwhile, at the behest of Moms, he developed a fondness for reading. He joined the Navy and became a medic (preparing badass Marines for proctology), and a proficient lab technician. Moving up in San Francisco, married and then divorced, he sold medical supplies. He was recruited as a trainee at Dean Witter just around the time he became a homeless single father. All his belongings in a shopping cart, Gardner sometimes slept with his young son at the office (apparently undiscovered by the night cleaning crew). The two also frequently bedded down in a public restroom. After Gardner’s talents were finally appreciated by the firm of Bear Stearns, his American Dream became real. He got the cool duds, hot car and fine ladies so coveted from afar back in the day. He even had a meeting with Nelson Mandela. Through it all, he remained a prideful parent. His own no-daddy blues are gone now.

Well-told and admonitory.

Pub Date: June 1, 2006

ISBN: 0-06-074486-3

Page Count: 320

Publisher: Amistad/HarperCollins

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2006

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