Ingram characterizes her nonfiction debut as “a baby book for moms,” a multivoice, multistage journal designed to chart the mother’s journey as separate from the baby’s. Ingram designs the book for maximum reader involvement; each chapter contains many themed prompts like “Looking back at the birth I think it went…” or “My baby is the most like me when....” Each chapter deals with different months and weeks of a baby’s infancy, and each section is filled with tips, funny quotes, interviews with a broad range of mothers, checklists, and a wealth of fascinating facts peppered throughout the text. “Baby gas is often caused by an immature digestive system and your baby’s inability to process milk or food items properly, or by ingesting too much air,” readers are told at one point, and “Grown-ups have exactly 206 bones, but experts disagree about exactly how many bones babies have—most say somewhere between 270 and the low 300s.” (Also, fascinatingly, research shows that the age of menopause is matrilineally determined.) All the trials and odd details of motherhood are touched upon, from mood swings to losing hair to returning to full-time work to, of course, chronic sleep deprivation, and Ingram maintains throughout a tone of upbeat humor and gentle understanding that new mothers especially will doubtless find very encouraging. The quotes from mothers in all walks and stages of life likewise reinforce a feeling of camaraderie and solidarity, and Ingram’s inclusion of inspirational and humorous quotes supplements this, constantly reminding mothers to pay attention to the positive sides of their experiences. Ingram’s prose is bright and accessible, and the book’s many moving parts are perfectly designed to keep readers entertained and involved.
A warm, involving, and ultimately uplifting journal for mothers caught in the distracting whirlwind of caring for a new baby.
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)