An Embarrassment of Riches

Liter-ick Review of Ichiro - by Eric Ichiro by Ryan Inzana

On a visit to Gramps in Japan,

Ichiro hatches a plan:

to catch a tanuki

(it's just a bit spooky)

and spring from his cell Hachiman.

Shades of Milk and Honey, + a chat with the author on Twitter - by Amy I read Pride and Prejudice in high school and college, thankful I had put it behind me. Slumped at a desk with pink-streaked hair and dirty Converses, a marriage plot among ladies of class fell short of resonating with me as a reader. So when someone suggested I read Shades of Milk and Honey—promoted by its publisher as Jane Austen, with magic—I had my reservations. Flash forward one week to me forgetting to feed my grandmother (sorry, Grams)  and missing MAX stops with this book in hand.

Mary Robinette Kowal has won scads of sci-fi and fantasy awards for her short fiction—Hugo, Nebula, Locus, you name it. After reading Shades of Milk and Honey, it’s easy to see why. Her style is easy, her sentences agile, and her dialogue witty. And if there were a few “shews” and “La!’s” thrown in, well, I might have even enjoyed them.  

Shades of Milk and Honey is a story of two sisters, one born with stunning looks and the other born with a stunning mind. Jane Ellsworth is the neighborhood’s best glamourist, expertly conjuring scents, sounds and images that enhance the family home. Jane fights her attraction to a very eligible neighbor, Mr. Dunkirk, while her younger sister loses herself in a maze of feelings for the same man. Their sibling rivalry is full of bitterness, and jealousy, but also moments of kindness. Jane struggles to tame her own passions while keeping a watchful eye out for her sister—and fails, spectacularly, among secret rendezvous and sensational duels.

Kowal’s debut is a light, absorbing read—a perfect choice to enjoy in the Portland sunshine, while it lasts. Be on the lookout for our upcoming Twitter chat with the author on Aug. 11th, from 12-1. Please join the conversation!

Happy Dance - A Series to get Excited About - by Sola

Our guest blogger is Sola, who is an avid reader and a library school student through the University of Washington. She is interning in the Central Branch Popular Library until the beginning of June.

I'm a sucker for a series where the characters start to feel like family members. That discovery that I can be reunited with someone I've come to appreciate (dare I say cherish?) by just reading another book is almost enough to make me do the happy dance. Usually this results in me devouring the books one after another, and then moping around until I find a new book I like, or the next one in the series gets published. If the series is something that my husband enjoys and we can chat about? Well, so much the better. A few years back, shortly after my twins were born, I stumbled on Craig Johnson's The Cold Dish. Being sleep deprived usually means that I'll forgo reading for a little shut-eye, but Sheriff Walt Longmire, of Absaroka County, Wyoming, jumped off the page and into my life, and I found myself unable, during those rare, quiet moments, to put the book down. Walt is one of those characters who is not immediately likable, and in fact, I don't really know that many mildly depressed, middle-aged, widowed, almost-alcoholic lawmen. Those questionable features were balanced out by the fact that he's also sweet, sincere, well-read, and is totally lost around women. Once I added in his friends, including a Native American named Henry Standing Bear, the former sheriff Lucian, and Walt's current deputy, the ever full-of-attitude Victoria Moretti, the scales definitely came down on the side of wanting to keep these people in my life. Walt would rather hang out in his partially built cabin, drink rainier, and obsess about a rape case that ended with suspended sentences for the four young men who were convicted, when one of those young men is found shot. Walt's sense of justice is strong enough to start looking into it, and determine that it wasn't, in fact, a hunting accident, when the second of the four is murdered in the same way, and it's clear that someone is out for revenge (a cold dish indeed). With a solid mystery, characters I found myself caring about, and a setting that I was starting to feel like I'd visited even though I've never been there, I powered through The Cold Dish.

And, in fact, I did do the happy dance when I found out it is was the first in a series of books with Sheriff Longmire. I'm up to speed at this point, but I'm always on the lookout for the next book by Craig Johnson. In the meantime, I'm hunting for a new book (or series) that I can fall in love with to fill the gap. Any suggestions?

Finding that Special Book: Two Shortcuts - by Markrid Coming up with the perfect next read can feel like trying to scratch an itch just out of reach: sometimes there's a craving for something in that charmed middle ground - not genre fiction, not a series, not one of the warhorse classics - but how to find it?

Though most readers probably don't think much about specific publishers, and even less of searching the library catalog by publisher's name, here are two richly rewarding ones guaranteed to supply years of engaging and often offbeat reading: Europa (also Europa Editions) and New York Review of Books (search also New York Review Books, without "of", and the series New York Review Books classics.).

Perhaps best known for their bestseller The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Europa offers a wide array of sophisticated international literature, much of it, like Hedgehog, in translation. Jane Gardam's Old Filth (Failed In London, Try Hong Kong) is the sharp, funny, and moving story of an expat English lawyer and his wife dealing with retirement in the motherland after years abroad, and is just one example of the excellent choices on hand from Europa.

The New York Review of Books has undertaken to reissue wonderful but neglected older books, including novels, memoirs, travel writing, and children's literature. One not to miss is  Richard Hughes' deeply weird A High wind in Jamaica, a story of inept pirates and kidnapped children sometimes compared to Lord of the Flies, but Golding's book is bland as butterscotch compared to this disturbing little masterpiece. Gregor von Rezzori's unforgettable portrait of his family in the obscure corner of the Austro-Hungarian Empire called the Bukovina, Memoirs of an Anti-Semite, is one of those books which, once read, just begs to be passed along to a friend. And foodies will love Elizabeth David's A Book of Mediterranean Food, written during a time of gray post-WWII privation, which opened a sunny window onto views of olive and lemon groves for the ration-weary English.

Both of these publishers will steer the reader towards something completely new, or - just as fulfilling - towards one of those great, familiar-sounding authors one always meant to get around to reading.

Devon Monk in the House - by guest blogger Naomi

Our guest blogger is Naomi, who is a librarian at the Midland library.

For me, one of the highlights of a recent conference was meeting author Devon Monk and being introduced to her Allie Beckstrom series. Devon Monk lives in Salem, Oregon with her husband, two sons and a dog named Mojo. She has sold over fifty short stories to fantasy, science fiction, horror, humor, and young adult magazines and anthologies. Her stories have been published in five countries and included in a Year’s Best Fantasy anthology. She is currently writing two series, including the Allie Beckstrom books (Magic to the Bone, Magic in the Blood, Magic in the Shadows, Magic on the Storm, Magic at the Gate). Her latest book in the series, Magic on the Hunt, is due out this month and you can hear her read from it at the Midland Library on Sunday April 10th from 2-4 p.m.

In the Allie Beckstrom series, you are transported to a Portland where magic has become a commodity to better the lives of the masses - all made possible by Allie Beckstrom’s father, the CEO of the company. Of course there are those people who are the real holders of magic. In the first book, Magic to the Bone, Allie doesn’t realize how much magic she holds. She’s too busy scraping by as a hound, a person with magical powers who is brought to the scene of a magic crime to help the police. No one, except other hounds, know the physical toll the use of these magical powers has on the body. And then her father, who she has always despised, is murdered.
Living in Allie Beckstrom’s Portland is like living in an alternate Portland - both familiar, yet different. The hounds will remind you of the homeless kids you see hanging out in Pioneer square or the front of the downtown library. Allie hangs out at her favorite coffee place which is oh so familiar to those of us who live here. And so much takes place in St. Johns, the one area of Portland not wired for magic with the most dramatic scenes taking place under the St. Johns bridge.

Please join us on April 10th at the Midland Library to hear this engaging author in person.

I Heard it On the Radio - by Emily-Jane

Our guest blogger is Emily-Jane, a reference librarian at Central and Belmont libraries, and a regular contributor to Furthermore: Where the Headlines Take You, where you can read her latest raves about books and films that have something to do with current news stories.  

There's a real trend in public radio these days for shows that focus on storytelling. The long running story show This American Life has been joined by Snap Judgment, Re:Sound, The Moth Radio Hour, State of the Re:Union, and Radio Lab, all shows centered around personal narratives, anecdotes, and other tales. The focus on stories brings the human element to the forefront in these shows, and let me tell you, I am hooked. I haven't been so in love with the radio since I was a kid in the 1980s, in the midst of another fad in public broadcasting: radio theater.

Starting in the late 1970s, regular series like NPR Playhouse, Earplay, and National Radio Theater of Chicago presented drama miniseries every week.  Some were imported from abroad, and some were produced in the U.S. Many were dramatizations of popular novels or adaptations of films, and if my memory serves, an awfully high percentage were some kind of science fiction. I wasn't too picky – I memorized the radio schedule and listened faithfully to whatever story was on offer. And although I haven't found any regular radio dramas on the air in Portland nowadays, I can still get my radio play fix at the library!

The most famous public radio dramas of the 1970s and 80s, no doubt, were Star Wars and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, but I think my personal favorite was The Fourth Tower of Inverness. It's a mystery/science fiction tale about Jack Flanders, a likeable young man who travels to visit his aunt Lady Sarah Jowls at her mansion, Inverness.  The place is fully stocked with odd characters – the Madonna Vampira, Old Far-Seeing Art, a million-and-a-half year old Venusian named Little Frieda, Dr. Mizoola the alchemist, and several others. Lady Jowl's husband, Lord Jowls, is missing, having disappeared some years before into the mysterious fourth tower (most folks only see three towers on the mansion, but Jack sometimes catches a glimpse of that fourth one), and Jack sets out to find him.  With, of course, the help and hindrance of all the other strange folk who live at Inverness.

I listened to The Fourth Tower of Inverness originally when I was about 12 years old, and always remembered it fondly – especially the introduction to each episode when the narrator announces in stentorian tones, "The FOURTH. . . TOWER . . . of INVERNESS."  My that gave me chills!  So, when I realized the library had it on CD I listened to it again.  Here's what my adult drama critic has to say: This is a weird, weird story with a major helping of spiritual and quasi-spiritual concepts: past life regression, Sufi mysticism, shamanistic communication.  The narrative is erratic and the sound effects are wild and vivid.  The characters are boldly drawn, but less cartoonish than you might imagine. The mystery is indeed mysterious, the setting is compelling, and the theme at the beginning of every episode gave me the same chills it did when I was a child!

If The Fourth Tower of Inverness suits you, there are a number of other radio tales about Jack Flanders.  If not, never fear – you can get a wide variety of other radio dramas, including This American Life, at the library. 

Laugh out Loud Funny - by Shandra

Our guest blogger is Shandra, who works at the Holgate library. Shandra has been a voracious reader since childhood, with a penchant for giving up sleep in favor of finishing those last... few... chapters. She is a fan of mysteries, fantasy, sci-fi, graphic novels, comic books, manga, humor, vampire books even before they were cool, non-fiction that reads like fiction and anything interesting that crosses her path.

Me Talk Pretty One Day is my favorite David Sedaris book, a collection of essays about himself and his family. He has a unique way of looking at things, and even when the subject is painful, it’s still wickedly funny. Another fun and soon to be timely collection is his Holidays on Ice, featuring four short stories and two essays, including the hilarious "SantaLand Diaries", Sedaris's chronicle of his time working as an elf at Macy's.

We’re Just Like You, Only Prettier: Confessions of a Tarnished Southern Belle’ by Celia Rivenbark is another fun read-aloud, and also a bit of an education if you happen to be a Northerner like me. You’ll soon be able to add all sorts of "Southern-isms" to your vocabulary! Says author Haven Kimmel, "I laughed so hard reading this book, I began snorting in an unbecoming fashion. I loved it nonetheless. I'll be sending copies to everyone, especially my baby's daddy."

Speaking of Haven Kimmel, next on my list of books to read aloud is A Girl Named Zippy: Growing up Small in Moreland, Indiana’. Somewhat sweeter than the two above, Kimmel’s memoir is insightful and humorous, full of vignettes from her childhood. She does a great job of telling her story from a kid’s perspective, without sounding childish. I enjoyed reading it for our Pageturners group, even though I’m not usually a memoir fan, and I’m looking forward to sharing it aloud very soon!

The Library is Your Oyster...er...Hedgehog - by guest blogger Bart King

Our guest blogger is Bart King, who writes humorous nonfiction for middle readers and immature adults. His greatest literary achievement is incorporating his name into the actual title of his new book: Bart’s King-Sized Book of Fun. He has over a half-million books in print, and his work has been translated into Chinese, Spanish, and Australian. Oh, and Bart prefers to be thought of as a “non-award winning author” despite some small evidence to the contrary. More about Bart at http://www.bartking.net.

So the Spanish word for “hedgehog” is erizo—

Oh, hello! I didn’t see you there. I was just working on a little project I have, namely learning Spanish. And maybe Urdu! After all, I can study 22 different languages through the Multnomah County Library website. If you’re not aware of this, the MCL has a subscription with a language education service called Mango. ¡Eso es fantastico! All you need is your library card; to take a look, just go to the MCL homepage, click on "Research" and then "Databases A-Z" and then "M" for Mango.

When I’m done with my Spanish homework, it’ll be time for me to run a number of subject searches in the MCL catalog. Today I’m doing research for a humorous book for kids about evil (seriously). And I want to know what learned minds in the fields of anthropology, history, psychology and literature have to say about evil. (I’d think, “It’s bad” would pretty much cover it, but I’d better double-check to be sure.)

As much as I respect the MCL’s holdings, my work won’t be done until I consult the InterLibrary Loan link to see what titles exist in THE REST OF THE WORLD. That’s right, with ILL, I can see (and check out) the holdings of libraries in other counties, states and countries!

You may have noticed that I haven’t tried your patience with a long list of the books I check out for pleasure reading. I think we can agree that people who do this sort of thing are insufferable show-offs. (That’s right Marc Acito, I’m talking about you!)

So let’s just say I check out a lot of books for personal reasons, and my motives for doing so are complex. For example, when the comics anthology Kramers Ergot 7 came out, it was priced beyond my shaky, arthritic grasp. So I checked it out from the library and found that my shaky, arthritic grasp was just strong enough to hang on to the volume while reading it. (And if you don’t find my motive particularly complex in the above example, let me assure you that being a cheapskate is a very nuanced state of affairs indeed.)

If I check out a library book that I find I really love, I buy it. For example, on my nightstand are two books I checked out from the Hollywood branch and then quickly returned to the library and went out and bought:

• Nick Hornby, Fever Pitch. This is Hornby’s memoir of growing up as a soccer fan in England during the 1980s.
• David Mitchell, Black Swan Green. This is Mitchell’s thinly veiled memoir of growing up and listening to embarrassing music in England during the 1980s. (Spandau Ballet, anyone?)
  

As you can see, my reading tastes are far-reaching as long as the author provides the essential elements of good literature: Style, a rewarding subtext, and a plot about growing up in England in the 1980s.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must wrap up my Spanish studies. (What’s the right word for a baby hedgehog? I’m guessing hedgehogito, but I’d better check that…)

Stories from the Border Lands - by Rita

Our guest blogger is Rita. Rita works at the library administration building where she oversees the 18 neighborhood libraries and services to language minorities.  Besides reading healthy amounts of both fiction and nonfiction, she consumes a lot of gardening books.

A few years ago I read my first book by Luis Urrea, The Devil’s Highway, a remarkable nonfiction recounting of a group of migrants who were lost in the desert region where I grew up. Urrea was in the running for the Pulitzer for this book for good reason, and so I jumped at the opportunity to hear him speak at the recent Public Libraries Association conference. What delighted and surprised me was his wicked sense of humor and his own remarkable story that moved the audience to tears and gales of laughter in equal measure.

Into the Beautiful North is his latest novel, and it features the humor I so enjoyed during his lecture. Inspired by the movie The Magnificent Seven a group of teenage Mexican girls head north to get their men folk back to fight the narco-traffickers who have taken over their sleepy village. My favorite character by far is the the heroine Nayeli, who is on her quest for justice and her long-absent father. This novel weaves in the stuff of today’s headlines (undocumented Mexicans crossing the Arizona desert) into an entertaining, fast read. Learn more about Urrea's thoughts about the book in this author interview. I’d also recommend the movies that inspired this fictional odyssey north: the Western drama The Magnificent Seven and the Japanese epic film that started it all - Seven Samurai. 

Mankind and the Moon - by guest blogger Karen Brattain Our guest blogger is Karen Brattain, a freelance editor. She works for the scientific journal Astrobiology and has edited several books. She is a graduate of the Master's in Writing: Book Publishing program at Portland State University.

I tell everyone who will listen that I want to be the first copy editor in space. Two years of work for a journal that studies planets, moons, and stars has rubbed off on me and propelled my childhood interest in spaceflight to new heights.

Amazing spectacles fill the Cosmos. But I have come to feel that any story or study of the Universe is barren without us in it. The human element of space exploration—our ideas about what lies beyond, our attempts to discover it, and our thoughts about what we have discovered—is really the soul of space exploration. And the television series From the Earth to the Moon captures that soul.

Produced in part by Tom Hanks and Ron Howard, From the Earth to the Moon is a twelve-episode series that ran in the late 1990s. It brings to life the history of mankind’s journeys to, from, and on the Moon. I love that the series tells this story from a variety of perspectives. I am accustomed to seeing the Apollo astronauts as superstars; these episodes also stir me to admire the efforts of the ground crew, the spacecraft designers, the press, and the astronauts’ wives and families.

The first episode, “Can We Do This?” reveals the intense pressure of the space race. The plan to send Americans to the Moon began before we had even put an American in space; as a result, the Mercury and Gemini missions happen at breakneck speed. The consequences of this speed reach a climax in the next episode, “Apollo One,” which covers the devastating loss of astronauts Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee. This honest and deeply emotional episode hooked me on the series. It is an exceptional performance.

Since then, I have watched the Apollo 7 crew recover from tragedy to complete a successful mission, and I have celebrated as Frank Borman, Jim Lovell, and William Anders orbited the Moon on Apollo 8. I am not finished with the series, so I am eager to see more. Indeed, it is taking an act of self-discipline for me to finish this review without popping in another episode.

If you want to test the water before diving into twelve episodes, I recommend the film Apollo 13. Directed by Ron Howard, Apollo 13 has an excellent cast, including Tom Hanks, Ed Harris, Gary Sinise, and Kathleen Quinlan. Spaceflight was never so real and suspenseful to me as it was when I watched this film for the first time. Now, after several viewings, I still feel that intensity. And I have developed a soft spot for Mission Control. One of the achievements of the film is that the cast breathes passion into highly technical language and concepts. One actor exclaims, “I need to know if the IU’s correcting for the Number 5 shutdown!” I’m on the edge of my seat!

The Apollo missions show us what humanity can achieve. As Jim Lovell says in Apollo 13, “We live in a world where man has walked on the Moon. It’s not a miracle. We just decided to go.” Working for the common good uplifts us all. Apollo also reminds us how much we have and how valuable it is. Earth, seen from space, is a fragile and fantastic thing. Watch From the Earth to the Moon and Apollo 13. Learn about Earth, the Moon, and humanity.

Lives of Comic Desperation - by guest blogger Marc Acito

Our guest blogger is the novelist, humorist and screenwriter Marc Acito. He was the winner of Oregon Book Awards' 2005 Ken Kesey award for Best Novel for How I Paid for College. His latest book is the sequel Attack of the Theater People.

I'm a promiscuous library user. At any given time, I've got two dozen books out and as many on hold. I got into the habit when I was poor and couldn't afford books. I probably shouldn't say this, since it's in my best interest that readers buy books, but I never buy a book I haven't read. I figure why own it if I'm only going to read it once?

So I use the library to test drive--promiscuously. If I love something enough that I need to own it, then I buy it, underlining and scrawling marginalia as I re-read.

As a result, I'm a familiar fixture at the Hillsdale Library, my local branch. Yes, it's true. Despite being a gay guy with a trendy haircut, a ready wit and the same waist size I had in junior high, I live in Deepest Suburbia. I prefer to think of it as the Lower West Hills.

Living as I do in the burbs, I’m a huge fan of books about desperate housewives. Reading stories about smart, funny women who are miscast in their lives is like having a marathon phone call with your best girlfriend, assuming your best girlfriend is hilarious, brilliant and completely honest.

A perfect example is the compulsively readable We Are all Fine Here by Mary Guterson, in which a married woman finds herself pregnant after a liaison with her old boyfriend in the bathroom at a friend’s wedding. You know those friends who are constantly screwing up but you secretly enjoy it because it makes you feel better about your own life? That's what reading this book is like.

We Are All Fine Here delivers Hitchcockian suspense without anyone being chased by a crop duster or rappeling off Abe Lincoln’s nose. From page one, questions abound: Who is the baby’s father? Who will the heroine end up with? How much longer can she hide her morning sickness? (announcer voice) These questions and more will be answered As The Stomach Turns.

In contrast to the friend who screws up is the friend who’s got it all together. For that, you must turn to Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther. Forget the melodramatic MGM weepie with Greer Garson. This slyly comic story of a well-bred Englishwoman on the eve of World War Two fascinates me with such pressing concerns as how do you find a charwoman on short notice and what do you say at a shooting party?

But Mrs. Miniver’s contentment with her privileged life is tempered by her wry observations, like how she longs to invite the scintillating half of the couples she knows to dinner, then invite the boring ones another night that she could cancel. It’s like Mrs. Dalloway for Dummies.

The best literary friend of all, however, is the narrator of Nora Ephron’s Heartburn, who is the perfect synthesis of the first two—a mild screw-up who still has her head screwed on straight. Long before Nora Ephron felt bad about her neck, she wanted to wring the neck of her philandering husband. Because the novel is reportedly based on Ephron’s own calamitous marriage to journalist Carl Bernstein, it’s difficult to imagine anyone other than the acerbic author herself in the role, even after Meryl Streep played her in the movie.

This book proves the adage that “Writing well is the best revenge.” The heroine of Heartburn writes cookbooks—which is appropriate given Ephron’s totally edible prose. It’s a delicious book, one you alternately want to gorge on yet savor, and the kind of hilariously wise and well-observed novel that makes readers wish the author were their best friend and makes writers like me contemplate suicide.

While I lead my own life of quiet desperation, however, I depend on these fictional friends they way I do my real ones: for comfort and laughs and inspiration. I take solace in knowing that there are others in the same boat. Especially if that boat is dry-docked in Deepest Suburbia.

Bones - by guest blogger Chelsea Cain (watch)

 Our guest blogger is bestselling author Chelsea Cain (www.chelseacain.com/). She writes dark grisly thrillers set in Portland. Hear her speak at the Central Library on Saturday February 21st, 1-2:30 p.m. More details here.

I resisted Bones for a long time.  It goes back to my love-hate relationship with David Boreanaz. I loved Buffy and I loved Angel (though I only started watching it when Buffy ended and desperation kicked in – I mean, at that point I would have watched a spin-off about Dawn). 

Don't get me wrong.  I totally had a crush on him in Buffy. I mean, damaged, soulful vampire – what's not to like, right ladies?  But there was also something – how to say this? – a bit dim about him, like he was one incisor short of a full set of teeth.  Take away the black togs, the Byronic back-story, and he was mighty like your average high school jock.  

In Bones David Boreanaz plays an FBI agent named Seely Booth who wears snazzy belt buckles and shoots people a lot.  His partner, Dr. Temperance "Bones" Brennan is a forensic scientist.  She's played by Emily Deschanel who is the sister of Zooey Deschanel – the quirky indie actress with the fantastic bangs.  Dr. Brennan is serious and smart and a little nerdy.  Booth is cocky and funny and defensive. 

It's a familiar set-up.  Male/Female investigative team -- opposites in every way -- solve crimes while resisting the unexpected urge to do the horizontal mamba. 

But Bones is elevated by its cast and writing.  At least that's what I'd been hearing all that time I was resisting watching it.  And finally, since I write thrillers for a living – and do most of my research by watching cop shows on TV -- I gave Bones a shot. 

And you know what?  

(I love it.)

I don't care how much my husband makes fun of me. 

I don't even care that I'm so late jumping on the bandwagon.

You know that great feeling when you discover a show that you love and there are like thirty episodes on DVD?  It's like having a whole bag of M&Ms or a whole bottle of Vicodin. 

You can enjoy it all the more, because you know there's more. 

Chelsea Cain was born in 1972 and lived the first few years of her life on a hippie commune in Iowa.
Her first novel featuring Detective Archie Sheridan and serial killer Gretchen Lowell, Heartsick, was a New York Times bestseller. The follow-up in the series – Sweetheart -- also a NYT bestseller, is available in stores now.  The third installment, Evil At Heart, hits bookstores in September 2009.
Chelsea is also the author of:
Dharma Girl: A Road Trip Across the American Generations
The Hippie Handbook
Confessions of a Teen Sleuth
Does This Cape Make Me Look Fat? Pop Psychology for Superheroes
She also edited the anthology Wild Child: Girlhoods in the Counterculture, was a former columnist for The Oregonian and The Portland Mercury, and has published work in British Elle, The New York Times Book Review, and Ms. Magazine.
Chelsea lives in Portland, Oregon, with her family.