I feel I should preface this review with the confession that I’ve been a fan of Happy Days for a long time and the image of that time when Fonzie was in Bronco’s garage and it them burst into flames are some of my earliest pop-culture TV memories.* So, I guess you could say I’ve been a fan of Henry Winkler for most of my fifty years on this planet. And while I’ve never had the honor to meet him in person, I have traveled to see the iconic leather jacket on display in the Smithsonian multiple times.
* It took me a couple of years to see part two, though I figured out the Fonz survived because a)he’s the Fonz and b)there were episodes with him after that.
So, when word reached me that Winkler had written an autobiography, you can bet that it got an immediate place on my to-be-read list.
And not only was I granted early access to read it but I was also given early access to the the audiobook, read by Winkler himself. If we’re being honest, I haven’t been this excited about a celebrity memoir since William Shatner gave us his two volumes of Star Trek memories close to two decades ago.
I won’t compare the two memoirs, because, like both men involved, they are completely and utterly different. What I can tell you is how much Winkler’s Being Henry felt like I was sitting down and hearing Winkler reflect on his life and career — sharing details of his journey and the thing that shaped him into the man he is today. Winkler is very candid here, not only celebrating the accomplishments of his life and career but also taking time to analyze the points where he feels he came up short or wishes he’d known then what he does now. Winkler’s analysis of himself as an actor in the post-Happy Days world in which he admits he couldn’t get out of his own way when it came to the acting roles he was taking is compelling and fascinating.
Something that struck me over and over again in reading Winkler’s reflections on his life was the sense that he wants us all to learn from his successes and his stumbles on how to interact with this world.
I appreciated his honesty and self-reflection. I also appreciated his candor at the nerve-wracking (for him) process of landing his role in Barry — a role that is a complete 180 from his iconic role as the Fonz, and one that makes me love him as a performer just a little more.
Along the way, Winkler’s pride in his family is apparent on page after page as well. I really enjoyed some segments of the story where Winkler brought in his wife to relate her side of the story, including the story of how they first met and began dating. The audiobook has the added bonus of his wife performing those parts as well.
In short, I walked away from the audiobook feeling like I’d spent a few hours with a good friend, reminiscing on life and trying to figure out what there was to learn from the experiences he’s had. There is an honesty and authenticity to Winkler’s story that really resonated with me and it’s why I unapologetically count Winkler as one of my favorite actors of my lifetime.
If you loved him as the Fonz or Gene, you’re going to enjoy this one.
Highly recommended.
In the interest of full disclosure, I received digital ARCS of the print and audio version of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Earlier this year, a Den of Geek article centering on the Star Trek novels published in 1983 cropped up in my news feed. Six tie-in novels hit shelves that year and the article delves into the wild and diverse crop of stories that were taking place on the final frontier forty years ago.
I’m no stranger to a tie-in novel — especially anything associated with Star Trek. The books were pretty much a literary staple to me in my teens and early 20’s and I’d often “chain read” them — finishing one only to turn around and start another. As I got older, I began to vary my literary diet and not just consume the “junk food” that Star Trek novels can often be.
So, when it came to the books detailed in Den of Geek’s article, I found I’d read about half of them. And that while I long ago parted ways with most of the collected Trek tie-ins I purchased in my teens and twenties, at least half of the novels listed in the article were sitting on my shelf of favorite books that I’d probably re-read someday.
Interestingly, when the article hit my news feed, I’d already started re-reading “The Wounded Sky,” the final novel published in 1983. “The Wounded Sky” may be the most influential of the novels published that year, if only because it was so well received and regarded that Gene Roddenberry had it adapted for the first season of The Next Generation.
“Sky” brings author Diane Duane onto the Trek scene — and she will cast a large shadow upon it from this time forward. “Sky” sees the Enterprise taking on a new type of drive that transcends warp drive and can take the crew farther beyond the final frontier than they’ve ever been before. I recall a friend of mine bought a copy of this one for me back in the day and shoved it into my hands, telling me I wouldn’t regret a second of reading it — and he was right.
Duane’s book feels downright revolutionary when it comes to Star Trek novels. It feels like a weightier, heavier science-fiction title than you generally were accustomed to on the pages of your standard Trek book. From the opening paragraphs talking about how you wouldn’t see the Enterprise flying by at warp to full sections on how the physics of this drive would work (she includes a bibliography!) The book itself clocks in at under 300 pages but it feels longer somehow — and I mean that in the best possible way. The story is immersive and mesmerizing. It includes a singularly alien race that there is no way they could ever truly realize on-screen at the time — and I’m not necessarily sure today’s CGI magic could do them justice either.
That’s not to say they didn’t at least try with the absolutely gorgeous cover art by Boris Vallejo. (Yes, that Boris Vallejo). One thing I’ll say about the early Trek novels — they may not have always been great but they featured some damn fine cover art.
“The Wounded Sky” is a challenging, hard sci-fi novel disguised as a Trek story. And yet, reading it you can tell Duane is a classic Trek and really gets the characters. An early scene with Kirk being nervous about wanting the drive for the Enterprise and his reaction when he gets the good news feels absolutely spot-on and I could see William Shatner bringing it to life. And this is all before we’ve gone beyond the final frontier and everyone’s thoughts are merging together and they’re all getting a glimpse of how each other’s minds work.
This novel established Duane as a force within the Trek publishing community and was probably why she was chosen to pen the first hardcover novel a couple of years later.
If you’ve seen TNG‘s “Where No One Has Gone Before,” you’ve had a glimpse of the story. And while that’s a great season one episode, I’m still not sure it quite lives up to the grandeur of the novel.
On the other end of the Trek literary calendar is A.C. Crispin’s first Trek novel, “Yesterday’s Son.” I will admit part of my keeping this one on my shelf all these years was that I’d picked up an autographed copy at my local Waldenbooks back in the day and not necessarily because I held a great deal of affection for it. It’s good, but it’s not necessarily a story that I loved upon first reading.
In retrospect, I can kind of see why. The novel weighs in a just under 200 pages and, boy howdy, does it pack a LOT of plot into those pages.
Spock sees a cave painting of a young man with pointed ears from the planet Sarpedion over 500 years ago. Sarpedion for those of you who don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of Trek trivia features in the third season episode “All Our Yesterdays” and was where Spock and McCoy journeyed back in time to Sarpedion’s ice age, meeting Zarabeth. The device used to send Spock back in time somehow removed his typical Vulcan inhibitions and allowed his emotional side to come out, thus resulting ina romance with Zarabeth.
Apparently in between trying to find a way back and McCoy giving them his usual grief, Spock and Zarabeth found time to explore their relationship and the result was a son, Zar. Driven by a sense of responsibility to not leave his son abandoned in time, Spock gets permission to use the Guardian of Forever to go back in time and rescue his son. Kirk and McCoy suss out what’s going on and go with him.
And so they head back in time to rescue Zar, who comes forward to our century and tries to fit in. Except Spock kind of treats him poorly with overwhelming parental expectations. Oh yeah, and the Romulans are determined to figure out the secret of the Guardian of Forever and possibly change the course of history.
Again, there is a lot packed into less than 200 pages of this novel. Crispin’s novel is a significant one because it’s one of the first to build on threads from the original episodes, incorporating elements from multiple episodes into a fast-paced, entertaining story that doesn’t ever slow down long enough to really allow things to sink in or get digested. And that may be my biggest criticism of the story — that it needs time to breathe a bit. I’m not saying we have Spock sit back and navel gaze about his son for fifty pages, but it would be nice to allow this new reality to have an impact on everyone.
Of course, this being the 80s, everything has to go back to the status quo by the end of the story, meaning Zar either has to go back in time, pass away, or be hustled off stage for some reason by the novel’s end. Crispin does this, tying Zar’s fate to that of the Guardian and then sending him back in time from whence he came.
After the pace of “Sky,” “Son” feels a bit more like a race through Trek. And that may be why it didn’t quite connect with me as much then or now. I liked it and don’t regret the time I spent reading it, but I can’t say it would crack my top ten favorite Trek novels. The two biggest takeaways were that Crispin really understands the characters and she really understands the internal continuity.
“Son” also starts a trend in a lot of the best Trek fiction in trying to figure out ways to bring the Guardian of Forever back into play. If there is one thing from the original canon that Trek writers seem to want to explore, it’s the Guardian. This isn’t a bad thing, though I do wonder what Harlan Ellison’s reaction might be to this.
It was inevitable that the pandemic would eventually creep its way into the world of fiction. Nowhere is that more the case than with Stephen King’s latest novel, Holly..
When a distraught mother reaches Holly Gibney and the Finders’ Keeper detective agency with a desperate plea to help find her missing daughter, Holly’s initial reaction is to turn the case down. Holly has a bit on her plate with the recent passing of her mother and putting her family’s estate in order. But details of the case intrigue Holly and she’s soon beginning an investigation that may uncover something far more sinister lurking in her small town.
As with all of King’s books, Holly pulls you in from the first page and is compulsively readable. We’ve got to know Holly over the course of several books now and King’s affection for her is obvious on every page. There are also significant developments for several other characters from previous novels in the series here, several of which relate to the case Holly is investigating.
While King has developed a fascinating with noir fiction in the past decade or so, Holly still doesn’t shy away from the dark side of things — though this time around, there isn’t as much of a supernatural element to things as there is an evil lurking. The evil forces believe that what they’re doing grants them supernatural healing and life extension, making them far more deadly and dangerous than a lot of the various forms of darkness and evil that King has detailed over the years.
Where the novel falters a bit is an overreliance on Holly’s fear of COVID-19 and her judgment of anyone who doesn’t take the same precautions she does over the course of the novel. Knowing a bit about King’s own feelings on this matter from his Twitter and other platforms, it’s not hard to hear King lecturing everyone a bit on the precautions and what he thinks we should all do. In his afterward, King notes that the novel sprang about from a desire to address the new reality of the world in the previous Holly story from If It Bleeds but doing so would be rewriting the entire thing after it had gone to press.
There is a good bit of irony in how far Holly is willing to go to avoid the pandemic all the while smoking a pack or two a day and justifying this behavior to herself. In many ways, it makes her a bit more human and relatable.
Overall, the story is a taut one and there are some interesting twists and turns. I found myself fascinated by the thread about Jerome’s sister’s journey to becoming a poet and being mentored by an older poet from the local university. This bit of light helps contrast some of the darker elements of the main mystery plot (King lets us know who is committing the crimes early in the story and part of the journey is watching Holly piece together the clues).
Holly probably won’t make my list of top King novels, but I still don’t regret any of the time I spent with it.
You don’t necessarily have to have read any of the previous novels in the series to enjoy this one. But I think the background on Holly going in may make parts of her story and journey a bit richer.
Working as the transcriptionist for the local sex therapist, Greta becomes intrigued and falls in love with one of his patients, whom she nicknames Big Swiss. After arranging to “run into”Big Swiss (whose real name is Sabine) at several local establishments (the bar below the therapists’ office, and the local dog park), Greta and Sabine begin a friendship that rapidly becomes something more.
But Greta’s world with Sabine is built upon half-truths and misrepresentations and she’s having difficulty remembering what Sabine told her in person and what she heard while transcribing her therapy sessions.
Jen Beagin’s Big Swiss is a quirky rom-com novel, filled to the rim with eclectic characters who will worm their way into your subconsciousness. In many ways, this feels like an episode of Three’s Company with various parties having more information than they should and the inevitable misunderstandings. And like episodes of that sitcom, you realize it’s only a matter of time until the truth all comes to light and everyone is exposed. However, whereas a sitcom might play it all for laughs, there are some deep emotional consequences for everyone involved in the complicated love quadrilateral that develops over the course of the story.
Big Swiss probably isn’t a book for everyone. The cover and premise make it seem like it’s racy — and make no mistake, there are some racy moments in here. But peel back the layers a bit and what Beagin has crafted is a fascinating character study of flawed people trying to find connection and meaning. This is one of the more memorable books I’ve read lately and it’s one that has stayed with me after the final page was turned.
I may need to look into more of Beagin’s works in the future.
Nashville Book Worm 