Book Description

A distinguished former foreign correspondent embraces retirement by setting out alone on foot for nearly four hundred miles, and explores a side of America nearly as exotic as the locales from which he once filed.

Traveling with an unwieldy pack and a keen curiosity, Christopher Wren bids farewell to the New York Times newsroom in midtown Manhattan and saunters up Broadway, through Harlem, the Bronx, and the affluent New York suburbs of Westchester and Putnam Counties. As his trek takes him into the Housatonic River Valley of Connecticut, the Berkshires of Massachusetts, the Green Mountains of Vermont, and along a bucolic riverbank in New Hampshire, the strenuous challenges become as much emotional as physical.

Wren loses his way in a suburban thicket of million-dollar mansions, dodges speeding motorists, seeks serenity at a convent, shivers through a rainy night among Shaker ruins, camps in a stranger's backyard, panhandles cookies and water from a good samaritan, absorbs the lore of the Appalachian and Long Trails, sweats up and down mountains, and lands in a hospital emergency room.

Struggling under the weight of a fifty-pound pack, he gripes, "We might grow less addicted to stuff if everything we bought had to be carried on our backs." He hangs out with fellow wanderers named Old Rabbit, Flash, Gatorman, Stray Dog, and Buzzard, and learns gratitude from the anonymous charity of trail angels. His rite of passage into retirement, with its heat and dust and blisters galore, evokes vivid reminiscences of earlier risks taken, sometimes at gunpoint, during his years spent reporting from Russia, China, the Middle East, Southeast Asia, South America, and Africa.

He loses track of time, waking with the sun, stopping to eat when hunger gnaws, and camping under starry skies that transform the nights of solitude. For all the self-inflicted hardship, he reports, "In fact, I felt pretty good." Wren has woven an intensely personal story that is candid and often downright hilarious. As Vermont turns from a destination into a state of mind, he concludes, "I had stumbled upon the secret of how utterly irrelevant chronological age is."

This book, from the author of the acclaimed bestseller The Cat Who Covered the World, will delight not just hikers, walkers, and other lovers of the outdoors, but also anyone who contemplates retirement, wonders about foreign correspondents, or relishes a lively, off-beat adventure, even when it unfolds close to home. ... Read more

Reviews (3)

A Plodder Slogs Uphill
By Bill Marsano. I wanted to like this book. I too am a walker, enlisted in the non-combat infantry. Of a proximate age to Wren, I walk all over Manhattan, weekly crossing the Brooklyn Bridge just for breakfast; I have walked in Tuscany and Liguria and on Cornwall's windy, sea-banged coast.

But this is not a book about walking, however much one-foot-in-front-of-the-othering occurs therein. It is about the change of life called retirement, and it is rooted in denial.

The author, age 65, has retired as a foreign correspondent for the New York Times. He refuses to be a retiree who can't let go, who hangs around to see "how things are going at the office." So far, so good; but I really got no clear idea of his plans other than to "walk into retirement" in that prissiest of New England states, Vermont. That's the one where faux-rustics think the NEW L.L. Bean is the REAL L.L. Bean. (And thank heaven for SUVs, hey?)

Wren's denial is of his age: 65. He doesn't rant and moan about it but he does intrude it at times and in ways that hit the floor like a brick. When he's grateful, for example, that younger hikers don't notice or at least mention his age, I'm embarrassed for him. A tone of defeat creeps in each time, when in fact some hint of triumph is deserved. It is not nothing, after all, to walk at the age of 65 some 400 miles from Times Square and up the Appalachian Trail, even if the destination is Vermont. It is an accomplishment at any age.

Denial damages his walk. He's out of shape, but won't exercise. He has a bad knee, but ignores it; for his arthritic ankle he buys a doctor-prescribed ankle brace ($80!) but leaves it in his pack unused, despite frequent pain. Now about that pack. It weighs 50 pounds! Wren takes far too long to realize that's far too much and even longer to do anything about it. And when a tick bite hints at Lyme disease, Wren dabs it with suntan lotion. That's not brave. It's dumb.

Despite some amusing or informative incidents, Wren's storytelling shows just how retired he and his reportorial curiosity are. He starts themes but doesn't finish them: "Yes, there are bears in the woods, but you don't need to meet them." (So . . . ?) What will the ex-marine he meets do in civilian life? "Go into the family business, sir." (Which is?) Readers seeking compensating tales of foreign-correspondent life will regret it. Wren has too many, most relentlessly dull and clumsily introduced: "Stretching back against the rock . . . . I sought out the Big Dipper . . . . These were the same glorious constellations I had studied one night in the Ogaden desert of Ethiopia, out with a band of guerrillas who were at war with the government." Then it gets worse. Much worse.

Wren convincingly paints the Appalachian Trail as a rather unpleasant experience. Even the young hikers he meets are usually dirty, smelly and exhausted. They use pseudonyms called 'trail names' and don't talk much: Some are social misfits or running from personal troubles, others are just too tired. One is so used up he eats uncooked oatmeal. The worst of Wren's fellow travelers talks too much, however; that would be America's original smug bore, Henry David Thoreau. In a real failure of imagination, Wren lugs some Thoreau along and frequently shares its dead weight with poor us, apparently unaware that this Waldensian faker was a freeloader always running home for a hot lunch cooked by mommy. Quoting him is prima facie evidence of having too little respect for your audience. Just remember this much: When college is over, so is Thoreau. OK?

Come we now to the writing and editing. With the latter we can easily dispense: The publisher evidently did. Surely there was no editor of this book; just someone who had lunch with the author? (Yeesh, what a racket. And all those years I worked for a living.) As for the writing, it never rises above the pedestrian, and I make no pun. It never gets as good as workmanlike and is often visibly worse. Wren inhabits a world in which "battered" taxis drive him to "ramshackle" towns; where the beers are "frosty," the sandwiches "scrumptious" and the steaks--oh my god, the steaks!--are "seared to perfection."

Walkers have a tradition of writing really fine works: RLS, Hilaire Belloc come to mind, as do Wordsworth, Coleridge and Hazlitt, among many others. But then this is not a walking book. It's a plodder.--Bill Marsano is a professional editor and an award-winning writer on travel, and wines and spirits.

The begining of life
Living the vicinty of NYC, i am always amazed at the people i see every day. It has been a dream of mine to conquer the AT. But for a man in retirement, to due such a venture, is an inspiration. The authors ability to bring his past ventures in to simular standing is also a great asset to the books adventures. We all want to know how it comes about.

An Appalachian Odyssey
How many of us have had fantasies of walking away from the life we've known into a cleansing wilderness and emerging, at the end of the ordeal, renewed? Christopher S. Wren, former New York Times correspondent did just that. Upon retirement, he strode out of New York City and made his way to his home in Vermont via the meandering Appalachian Trail. Along the way, he kept company with a motley crew of other travelers, ominous black SUVs, mosquitoes and his memories. This isn't just a travelogue of sights along the way, though, it's a layered story of a man's life at a turning point, weaving remembrances (some harrowing) from a long life lived in many foreign places into the new, unfolding story of a man who is no longer what he was.

It's not to be confused with Travels with Charley, John Steinbeck's wonderful tale of travel across the country with his trusty poodle. Steinbeck was in search of his country's identity, but Christopher Wren's goal is more personal -- he's searching for his new self.

Wren's self-designed rite of passage fulfills the requirement of all such rites: redefinition. He begins his journey as a man at the end of a professional life, graduating into a gray, undefined role as "retiree". He emerges from the trail with a deep understanding of the meaninglessness of such titles and the resilience of human character.

The editorial reviews above mention that the book will be appreciated by hikers and lovers of "off beat adventures", etc. I think the book will be appreciated by anyone who wants to understand better how to be an adult and, last time I checked, that was everybody. ... Read more

Book Description

Joe Kurmaskie, dubbed the “Metal Cowboy” by a blind rancher he encountered one icy morning in Idaho, has been addicted to the intoxicating freedom and power of the bicycle ever since he “borrowed” his big sister’s banana-seat bike at the age of five. As he careened down the neighborhood hill, much to his parents’ dismay, Joe set in motion what has become a lifelong love affair with the road and the wheel. In Metal Cowboy, Joe offers up an infectious and big-hearted collection of true adventures and misadventures, chronicling his time touring America on his bicycle.

Whether he is climbing a tree to avoid the insistent pecking of a flock of geese in New Hampshire, tooling around a motel parking lot in Utah with a touring group of Elvis impersonators, or filling in as a last-minute scarecrow in a North Carolina Halloween parade, Joe revels in the charm of small town America and the unforgettable characters who dot our landscape. Full of energy, wit, and wisdom, Metal Cowboy is both an inspiration and a call to the road, full of the simple joy of a path well pedaled and a life less ordinary. ... Read more

Reviews (24)

Bryson meets McIntyre...on a bike!
If you have ever read the travel narratives of Mike McIntyre or Robert Perkins and loved the wanderlust and interpersonal experiences, then took a little Bill Bryson and added a bike, you would have Metal Cowboy.

Books on travel can sometimes be too preachy or too operation oriented, but not Mr. Kurmaskie. His writing is very much about the journey, the experiences and people along the way. You don't take a trip when you read his book; you are along for the ride itself. Good stuff.

His vignettes range from the personal acceptance of his persona via a blind southern sage to finding where he belongs in the world, and everything in between, all with a unique perspective that can only be found by someone who has actually lived life.

Don't worry if you don't ride a bike, this isn't THAT kind of book. The bike is a facilitator for the journey that unfolds, you don't have to understand the pain and pleasure that people find in pushing pedals. It simply is a vehicle that transports him from one spot to another, putting him in places for things and interactions to happen.

Buy it, you won't regret it.

These 40 stories take the reader on a delightful ride.
Joe Kurmaskie's first book, "Metal Cowboy," is fashioned from loos, flowing prose, the kind that invites adjectives like "witty" and "insightful." But heart-warming, feel-good travel narratives are easy to find. It is more unusual to read one that fosters a deeper understanding of the overall experience and transcends mere outrageousness.

These 40 "Tales From the Road Less Pedaled" do not follow chronological order. Instead they jump around - from childhood sailing trips to crossing the Rocky mountainsto spending a season on the isalnd of Aruba - and focus more on developing a conversational yet intimate manner with the reader.

Most of the stories feature a quirky man or woman, somehoe alienated by society, who is living life on their own terms, determined to follow their heart. Either they live ina small town and share an experience with Kurmaskie, or they spend a few hours or days cycling with him. Elvis impersonators, a double lower leg amputee, a flamboyant Italian barber, overprotective geese, and a bomb-builder turned zealous rockhound are merely a sampling of the characters Kumaskie meets on the road.

However, Kurmaskie doesn't rely on extremes to keep his book engaging. He deftly tackles difficult subjects, too, and displays a remarkable aptitude for compassion and contemplation. For example, in "Doing the Hokey-Pokey," Ranada O'Ryan, a high-school drop-out turned factory worker takes Kurmaskie to her senior prom and he graciously plays the part of adoring boyfriend. He connects with parents who have lost their children to accidents or disease, assists a man suffering from AIDS, and struggles to make peace with both loggers and environmentalists.

Overall, he understands many readers crave a vicarious experience, one that satidfies their sense of adventure and enhances their understanding of people. His stories are full of optimism, zaniness and insight, a winning combination that will take readers on a delightful ride.

Metal Cowboy: Tales from the Road Less Pedaled
Joe Kurmaskie is a story teller for today! He combines the wit, wisdom and sensitivity of Sam Clemens, Will Rodgers, and John Gierach. this book will give you "itchy feet" whether you are a bicyclist or not, you'll want to get aout on the open road and feel the freedom.

Thanks Joe for the wonderful yarns!

Spectacular Read. Even for the non cyclist
This book will have you on the floor laughing. It will have so lost in thought that you won't realize that it is 1 am and you have to be to work by 6am.

I recomend this for anyone with interest in the things that make us human.

Metal Cowboy
Travel adventure of the highest order. Author Kurmaskie frames a picturesque perspective of being on the road with wit and well written wisdom. Great story telling. Very entertaining reading. I read it twice in succession and then went on to "Riding Outside The Lines" his second and equally good book! ... Read more

Book Description

Imagine a secluded little house in the woods by the sea on the Maine coast. Down a bumpy lane, out of harm’s way and the clamor of the modern world, Frankie’s Place is a sublime summer retreat, with mussel beds out front, blackberry bushes out back, evergreens all around, and lovely views of forested mountains and a glacier-carved fjord full of lobster buoys, seabirds and sailboats.

One summer, Jim Sterba, veteran war correspondent, accepts an invitation for a weekend visit from a woman he barely knows—author Frances FitzGerald. He arrives and discovers a perfect writer’s nest. He visits against in the fall. The next summer he stays for a week, and gradually falls in love with his host as much as her place.

Icy plunges into Somes Sound christen their island mornings, and long periods of dutiful writing are following with rigorous mountain walks, forays for wild mushrooms and sailing. In the evenings, Jim and Frankie prepare simple meals with local ingredients. These two couldn’t have had more disparate childhoods – Jim grew up on a struggling Michigan farm while Frankie lived in a Manhattan townhouse and an English country estate. But their intelligence, ambition, and independence propelled them both into writing careers and kept them single until they met each other later in life. In this Tracy-Hepburn romance, the down-to-earth newspaperman charms the sophisticated New Yorker – their long path to real love makes us cheer Jim on as he walks up a mountain to propose to Frankie, and has us itching for a visit to Mount Desert Island. ... Read more

Reviews (4)

"Excellent" doesn't say enough about this book!
Over the years, lots of books have been written by city folks who summer in or retire to cabins in rural or remote or beach or otherwise-touristy areas and who feel the need to share their experiences with the rest of us. "Frankie's Place"now ranks at the top of that genre.

This book is not just about two NYC writers who spend extended summers in a cottage on the coast of Maine. It's about Sterba's own personal lifetime journey, from his Michigan childhood to a career as a newspaperman covering stories in Asian countries. He's a well-traveled, well-seasoned reporter, and his prose reads like a conversation and his description paints pictures. Even if your only exposure to the Maine lifestyle has been through stereotyped glimpses of it during "Murder, She Wrote" reruns, you'll find yourself experiencing it firsthand here. You'll see and feel the rocky shoreline, the brutally brisk-cold seawater, the drenching damp of a day-long fog, the delight in allowing yourself to be treated to a lobster dinner. You'll know what it's like to live in a resort area, both before and after the busy season. And as you read along, the text becomes a subtle but most meaningful lecture on Sense of Place. You quietly walk toward that goal with Jim and Frankie, and each one of you knows what the final outcome will be.

Treat yourself to Sterba's book especially if you're feeling lost in 21st-century civilization. It will bring you peace, laughter, good food, and light contemplation.

Sterba Gives the Lowdown on Life on the Maine Coast
Wall Street Journal reporter Jim Sterba has written a whimsical memoir that will tickle the fancy of those who have always dreamed about escaping the real world to the coast of Maine. "Frankie's Place" is a book about his wife's rustic cabin in Maine where he courted the author Frances FitzGerald and then, having won her hand, moved right in with her to live happily ever after.

Sterba is a veteran reporter, but he is also an astute observer, and he manages to weave some very lucid observations on a variety of issues into his tale of life in a cabin on the Maine coast.

Sterba is also very funny. He touches on any number of subjects with a wry wit that leaves the reader smiling to himself time and again, as Sterba explains the intricacies of being a foreign correspondent who roams the world for nine months of the year and then has the good fortune to spend his summers in Maine.

That good fortune came when he met Frances ("Frankie") FitzGerald, the noted Pulitzer Prizing winning historian. Sterba courts her even from his overseas assignments, and he gets his first taste of Maine when Frankie invites him to spend a weekend in her family's bucolic cabin in Northeast Harbor, located on Mount Desert Island. Frankie comes from the Peabody family from Boston (& Maine) on her mother's side. Her father was Desmond Fitzgerald, a senior CIA Cold Warrior

So Frankie is no pushover, and she puts Sterba through his paces as she introduces him to life on a Maine island. There are freezing plunges into the ocean, morning jogs and long walks. Sterba affectionally refers to this regimen as the FitzGerald Survival School. He eventually survives Frankie's school, and the two get married. Sterba, a fatherless mid-western farm boy, moves Down East.

The first thing Sterba has to cope with is the social strata in Maine. There are the locals ("Mainers"), the middle class summer residents ("rusticators"), and then the high priests of Mount Desert Island -- the multi-generational summer residents who are principally WASP's from Boston, New York and Philadelphia. Sterba spends much of the book searching for the quintessential WASP (or "Philadelphia snob") and is, seemingly, shocked -- shocked! -- to be told that his wife is that very person (she isn't).

But this book is not just about Maine. We learn how Sterba moves from the New York Times (Editor Abe Rosenthal was his bete noir) to the Wall Street Journal where he becomes an A-Head writer, penning the features on the Journal's front page. He sees a lot of similarities between island life in Maine and other parts of the globe where he roamed for the Times and the Journal. He compares the economic development of a tiny rural town in Indonesia to the "improvements" of the trails on Mount Desert Island (not good in either case); he has some cogent observations on the news industry, as well -- noting that the Wall Street Journal offered him the chance to do the kind of reporting and writing that he never could do at the New York Times.

Sterba fancies himself as a good cook, and he reprints his favorite recipes throughout the book. The one thing he doesn't cook is lobsters, for that is Frankie's job. She's no pushover in that department, either, Sterba notes. He describes how she disappears into the kitchen to boil the lobsters alive and then uses a hammer or whatever heavy utensil is handy to crack them open for the dinner table. By the time the lobsters are served, Sterba says, the kitchen looks like a war zone.

Sterba, meanwhile has his own war. He discovers mice in Frankie's Place. So, naturally as an old Asian hand, he consults The Art of War, written by the ancient Chinese strategist Sun Tzu, on how best to wage war against the mice. Throughout the book, Sterba gives us updates on his war against the mice -- with body counts just like he reported on in Vietnam. It's sort of a Downeast version of the Saigon follies. But finally (like the Ford Administration in 1975 in Vietnam) Sterba throws in the towel, comparing his mice war to the battles for Hamburger Hill in Vietnam where the Americans took the Hill time and again in a seemingly mindless, winless struggle for military dominance. In the end, Sterba accommodates himself to the mice (they continue to ignore him).

Perhaps the most touching episode in the book comes near the end when Sterba discovers he isn't fatherless after all. His natural father gets in touch with him through an uncle. The uncle calls to tell Sterba that his real father, Walter Watts, has written a letter and wants to meet his son, whom he hasn't seen in some 50 years. The story of how they got together is a gripping account.

Sterba and his father eventually have a reunion in Florida where his father has retired. The two reconcile after all those years, and still enjoy playing golf with each other (His father is gracious enough to let Sterba win).

This is marvelous book, best left for a rainy day, when one has the time to settle in and enjoy the wonders of Maine. Sterba writes well, his humor is intact, and he relates a hell of a good story about a couple of writers who have seen a lot of the world -- but are thankful they can retreat to their own cozy Maine camp overlooking Somes Sound.

The Perfect Summer Read
Jim Sterba's exquisitely-written memoir of his search for a sense of family and place is an enchanting love story. I couldn't put it down -- the perfect book to bring along on summer holidays.

A Guide for the Perplexed
This book is about a good soul who shares his recipes for a good life as well as a good meal. He shows us how to take the raw ingredients life presents us with and in addition to lots of garlic, onion and fresh herbs, how to enrich the stew with love, forgiveness and gratitude.

Like the good reporter he is, he tells it in a story so engaging you will not want it to end and when it does you'll kiss the person next to you and run to the fridge to see what is there to be transformed.

It is a symphony of the senses; sight, taste, touch and sound, animated by a generous spirit. In my usual smart alec fashion I would make comparisons to this or that book, place it in this or that category. Finally comparisons exhausted, I realized it's in a class by itself. Read it for the good of YOUR soul. ... Read more

Book Description

As a journalist in an industry populated by liberals, Harry Stein carried the left-wing banner in his life and work. Then he became a father, and suddenly the Right sounded right. Even worse, the Left was starting to sound -- and look -- wrong.

Stein cuts through the distortions on both sides and fearlessly tackles such provocative topics as feminism, affirmative action, PC education, gay rights, and sexual McCarthyism, and shows how liberating it is to no longer have to pass as a correct thinker. Daring, brilliantly argued, and savagely funny, How I Accidentally Joined the Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy will resonate with many who have witnessed the social revolution of the past thirty years and questioned its outcome -- even if only secretly.

Reviews (37)

Jerry Stahl gets honest where most do not...
Not only is this book graphic, it kept me on the edge of my seat wanting this Heroin addict-Pill popping guy on a death wish to wake up and see his death of an existance! His attention to detail and long (But ever important) descriptions of his eventful drug induced lifestyle made me want to read this book from beginning to end. He portrays the realism that many of us went through and continued on in life as if it were the only way to live. I was very impressed and grateful to finally hear the "real" thing and not some candy-coated made for Hollywood drama. Forget the movie, this book has more than you will ever "See" at the theater. Read along and feel his pain and triumph.

A cautionary tale, to be sure
To be honest, I bought this book expecting an inside peek into the world of a TV writer. What I got was a teeny bit of that; this book is Stahl's no-holds-barred account of heroin addiction at its utmost ugliest. At the same time riveting, disgusting and interesting, this memoir would deter anyone from falling into the same horrible abyss. His honesty is raw and unflinching, but I was a little irked by his writing style -- you'd think a TV writer would cut to the chase without enveloping his thoughts in an Ivy League-inspired miasma of metaphors and similes. He touches all too briefly on his upbringing, the true root of his seemingly narcissistic behavior . . . and ends the book on a "wha' happened?" note. A good, sturdy read, but I could have done without the mind-numbing descriptions, which were too clever by half. I hope his life has turned around . . . but you never find out.

Good Start, Medium Middle, Slow Finish
Like many drug memoirs, Permanent Midnight starts off with a great premise: man is young, man is poor, man meets drugs, man falls in love with drugs, man gets sudden rush of money, man takes too much drugs, man learns to take too much drugs and still make money, man gets tired of taking too much drugs and making too much money, man moves to Arizona.
And like many drug memoirs the end is grueling and slow. Near the end of the book it seems the writer is thinking more about his paycheck than his work. But I would definetly buy this book just for the first 80%.

Titles are for losers.
This book was PHENOMENAL! I haven't read a book this good since I picked up American Psycho, and that was probably about a year ago. (American Psycho is better, though. Nothing beats Patrick Bateman, ever.) I was addicted to this book. Jerry Stahl made me feel his confusion and his pain. It was as if he jammed the neelde into MY vein, and we rode the horse in Chinatown together.

I feel like I know Jerry Stahl now. I feel like we're really good friends. I think I want to give him a phone call and talk about Mother's Day. And then I think I want to go to the park, giggle with him, and point at geese. Oh, the fun! Like, Oh my GAWD Jerry! Let's go to tha Mall! Haha, I really need sleep.

This was such a good book. It will get under your skin. You will NOT be able to put it down. But let's not put the cart before the horse, or we'll shoot ourself in the foot... Don't see the movie! As much as I love Ben Stiller (a guilty pleasure?), this was just not good. And I thought Mr. Stiller did a wonderful job of acting like a junky. I kept thinking, "this can't be the guy that keeps shooting horses in his recent movies..." Maybe he really liked doing this movie... maybe they're all strange, cryptic references to Permanent Midnight: The Movie.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling. Read this book! Read it and love it, beeyotch.

As the Junkie Turns...
Some of us stop off at McDonald's for an egg mcmuffin and coffee on the way to work. Not Jerry, his is an assortment of chemicals that make a big mac look healthy. I can't write an e-mail if I haven't had enough sleep and somehow this guy was able to write tv shows nodding off on heroin. His honesty will pull you in. If you want to know the truth about what it's really like to make it in Hollywood, read this book. ... Read more

Book Description

A profoundly courageous and insightful memoir, An American Story documents the events that have shaped journalist Debra Dickerson's conscience.

The daughter of former sharecroppers, Dickerson never imagined she would emerge from her squalid St. Louis neighborhood to become an acclaimed journalist with a Harvard Law degree. A constant reader and a straight-A student, nevertheless Dickerson's lack of confidence kept her from accepting the many colleges offers she received. Instead she enlisted in the U.S. Air Force, quickly rising through the ranks. In spite of her success, she recognized within herself deep-seated conflict at being a working class black woman living in a white man's world. Her path to self-acceptance is at the heart of this refreshing narrative.
... Read more

Reviews (31)

shattering stereotypes of both liberals and conservatives
If you enjoy excellent writing combined with an absorbing story, I urge you to read this memoir. It's the tale of a contemporary woman in search of herself. The daughter of a former share-cropper, she carved out a stellar career in the Air Force, then cut it short to go to Harvard Law School. "An American Story" is hardly a Horatio Alger cliche, though. It's much more; Dickerson describes her experiences of gender, race, and class distinctions in present-day American life, and she depicts her massive struggles to make sense of those experiences. Along the way she shatters some stereotypes held dear by both liberals and conservatives. Dickerson is a born writer, and her quest for personal autonomy and fulfillment makes up the heart of this compelling book.

To Tell the Truth
It is rare that an author has the courage to tell the whole truth and it is the unusualness of honesty that make this book so wonderful. Made in America or All American Girl would have also been good titles as this story could not have happened in any other place; it is uniquely, authenically American.

Well-educated, well-traveled, well-read, but not out of touch, Debra Dickerson's reflections will resonate with readers of all races, ages and backgrounds. Low expectations and disbelief at ascension are constant problems in black/American life and post-integration alienation is also pervasive. Enormously helpful and almost therapeutic, this book is a must read. Dickerson has given birth to a beautiful, educated, integrated, thoughtful American baby.

(Though I do wonder why Pantheon Books allowed so many typographical errors into the final print).

A powerful look back with self-awareness
Debra Dickerson's memoir looks back on the first 40 years or so of her life with seeming self-consciousness. It can be criticized for being too inwardly focused, but then what is a memoir for? Documenting not only her own experiences but her internal reactions to those experiences helps the reader to gain both admiration and insight into Dickerson's accomplishments.

Best of all it spotlights Dickerson's incredible writing, which is the product of someone who has known and loved books all her life and formed a committed relationship with them as an adult. Though she herself admits it took a long time for her emotional intelligence to catch up with her book one. It helps that she doesn't spare much time for self-pity in her self examination.

This is the kind of book I'll be recommending to friends, especially women friends. Of memoirs written by women, I found it perhaps the most enjoyable I have read since "And So It Goes," by Linda Ellerbee--another southern woman. Dickerson is not as funny as Ellerbee (neither is she trying to be) but like her she earned my admiration on sheer quality of writing.

The memoir is hardly free of humorous incident. I really enjoyed the way a young Dickerson turned her father's punishment of having all books but the bible removed from her bedroom, combined with an insistence that all children must recite a bible verse at the table before being served, against him.

I admire Debra Dickerson and I look forward to reading her next book.

A compelling read
Bravo to Ms. Dickerson! I thoroughly enjoyed this autobiography. I first saw Ms. Dickerson on c-span a couple of years ago as she read from "An American Story", being an iconclast myself, I was immediately struck by her fresh, open and candid approach to her life's story. She spoke of her St. Louis past, her military experience and her current socio-economic success. I decided I must purchase her book, and a short time later it was featured in my book club, I ordered it and began reading, I was not immediately drawn in at the time and set it aside on the bookshelf. Last month while searching for interesting non-fiction in my "library", it jumped out at me. I was completely enraptured and quickly finished it.

I've read some reviews posted here and most have been laudatory, some (very few) have been derogatory and some have been what I can only interpret as barely veiled jealousy. This lady more than deserve her props! Not that she is the first lady to, as one reviewer put it, "pull herself up by her bootstraps", yet her tale is so eloquently(unsparing)written, so visciously witty and so "on target" in a way most of us only dream of being, (i.e., speaking to a heartfelt, and oft self-searching personal dissection, er, inspection) it leaves the reader breathless. She's a feminist without being strident (and I'm no NOW supporter), she's confidently self-effacing and I loved the fact that she never evoked movie stars or sports figures as models of aspiration. Her tale needed to have been told. I especially enjoyed the early portions regarding her childhood with her abusive father and also, the heartbreakingly wasted life of her brother, Bobby. What might his life been had he the same level of personal determination and drive?

However, on to my review. This tale was spun in a clever and ingenious manner. Her narrative was raw, brutal and sometimes arrogant, though not enough for the reader to dismiss her as irrelevantly boastful. After all, she has earned our respect. I sympathized with her past, mine was similar. I'm inspired by her present and hopefully her future, "Hey Ms. Dickerson - what are you currently doing toward your goal of helping the masses you left behind?". "Not that there cannot be a division of the labor, but upon entering HLS, wasn't bringing as many along with you one of your stated goals?"

Finally, regarding as one reviewer put it, and I paraphrase, "writing in language that most black people can't understand",Hey Ms. Reviewer, you can't see the forest for the trees, she has obviously, as was the thrust of the story, clearly chosen an audience. She is writing to her peers. We are just along for the ride! Peace out!

Enjoyable, but many gaps in the story
As an African American woman, who also served as an officer in the Air Force during the same time frame of Ms Dickerson, I was anxious to read about her journey through the military. I saw many similarities in our experiences. I found the book to be most compelling in the first 100 pages; her memoir about the foundation laid to make her the person she is today. This was poignant and affecting writing. After high school, she turns from a living, feeling, and thinking young girl to a two-dimensional character. Important events are glossed-over/minimized. For example her treatment of sex and her relationships with men or really...anybody. There was little or no acknowledgement of her relationships with anyone outside of her parents and her little brother. She occasionally mentioned a boyfriend by name, but apparently other than getting her into Harvard Law School, they had very little impact on her life or the way that she sees the world. Same goes for roommates during OTS and her time as an enlisted person in the Air Force. These people are apparently (by theri ommission) unimportant to her intellectual/emotional development as an adult. Her journey became about the environment she was navigating and her perceptions thereof. A very sparsely drawn environment at that. It was the literary equivalent of her looking through the glass at other peoples lives and judging them rather than experiencing and examining her own life. She did address something that I think is unfortunately overlooked: how middle and upper class blacks feel and interact within their own culture and amongst themselves. She nailed it. I saw similar attitudes and behavior.

Ms Dickerson seems to have bountiful book knowledge, but not necessarily emotional intelligence. Unless she is in charge, she doesn't seem to do well. Whether she had stayed in the Air Force, gotten a job at a big law firm or stayed with the NAACP, the social skills required are similar, and (on the basis of this book) it seems to be something she lacks/or doesn't have the stomach for. As a writer, she is her own boss and has a choice as to what to write. Her success is dependent on her choices rather than working with others (or working with others to a lesser degree). Weird, I get the impression that her success as a writer hinges more on her very impressive resume and connections, than on her ability to write (She is very good writer, though I would not characterize her as gifted). Ironic since she is such an Ayn Rand, by-your-bootstraps type of person. Either way, her world to me seems small and lonely, but none-the-less a triumphant.

It takes a great deal of courage to write a memoir such as this and to leave oneself open to the thoughts and opinions of others. I salute Ms Dickerson's mettle; she is indeed quite brave and does in my opinion have a lot to say that is relevant, especially today. I did not see anything heroic or life affecting about this book; however, I do think Ms Dickerson is a talented observer and someone whose opinion would have great credibility in my world. ... Read more

Book Description

Jorge Ramos, con otro bestseller y otro vistazo al mundo del periodismo y la política.Sus libros tienen éxito por ser tan personales y estar tan llenos de compasión. ... Read more

Reviews (4)

Un libro muy veridico
Yo me identifico mucho con este libro, pues en el, Jorge Ramos habla de la guerra de El salvador y yo siendo Salvadorena recuerdo exactamente todo lo sucedido durante la guerra en mi pais.
Ademas admiro mucho al senor Jorge Ramos.

Libro interesante y informativo
Soy un estudiante "hispanofil" de la lengua castellana y compró el libro para estudiar/practicar porqué parece ser un libro interesante, sobre cosas actuales, y no tan dificil porque tiene muchos capítulos cortos.

Es, de verdad, muy interesante. A leer el libro es como ver a muchos sitios y actos, en America Latina y el mundo en general, sin viajar, sientado en la silla. Es mejor que las noticias "normales"; muy descriptivo, no es completamente objectivo porque tiene las opiniónes y afecciónes politicas del escritor, y para mi fui muy comodo la posibilidad a leer unos capitulos cada vez.

Voy as comprar más libros de Sr. Jorge Ramos.

Lo Qui Vi
Another great book by Jorge Ramos. Well written, easy reading, and very informative. He tells it "like it is"...

wonderful!
Purchased this book and started reading and could not put it down. Very good and coloquial narrative style. Also read Bajo la Mascara from same author, but this is far better,Highly recommend this book.

Congratulations to the author, waiting for the next one.

Iris Sanchez ... Read more

Book Description

Harry Crosby was the godson of J. P. Morgan and a friend of Ernest Hemingway. Living in Paris in the 1920s and directing the Black Sun Press, which published the works of James Joyce and others, Crosby was at the center of the wild life of the Lost Generation. Drugs, drink, sex, gambling, the deliberate derangement of the senses in the pursuit of transcendent revelation: these were Crosby's pastimes until, in 1929, he shot his girlfriend, the recent bride of another man, and then himself. This biography is an engrossing saga of a brilliant but self-destructive socialite from a fascinating and complex time. ... Read more

Reviews (6)

Sunfire
Vignettes about Harry Crosby may be found in Malcom Cowley's, "Exiles Return"; "Absinthe: History in a Bottle", by Barnaby Conrad; "Published in Paris," by Hugh Ford; and a couple poems in "The Penguin Book of Surrealist Poetry". You may come across Harry Crosby in biographies of D.H. Lawerence, Hart Crane, or James Joyce, and definitely in his wife, Caresse Crosby's "The Passionate Years". All in all, Geoffrey Wolff's biography is a welcome find. I came across an old and forgotten copy of "Black Sun" for $1 amidst thousands of used books at a San Francisco library sale in the "pre-Amazon.com" days when I was blindly searching for more information about Crosby who fascinated me. It was pure luck; or destiny! I had recently read his diary, "Shadows of the Sun" (Black Sparrow Press, 1977) which is the work he is most known for, and is one of the most fascinating & captivating diaries I've ever read. Some reviewers have commented on the "mediocre quality" of Crosby's poems, but read within the context of "Shadows of the Sun" and/or "Black Sun" they melt into perfect harmony with his life. "Black Sun" is the ideal supplement to "Shadows of the Sun", adding unbiased biographical details about Harry, the 1920's, and the wonderful influence Harry and Caresse had upon those they befriended. Wolff did an excellent job researching old letters from various archives, as well as utilizing his orignal diaries as source material - Harry kept assiduous details of his life for posterity's sake.

I'm glad to see that "Black Sun" has been reprinted in this new 2003 paperback, and it contains an afterword by Wolff discussing how and why he chose to write about Crosby. He states that he wouldn't have written about Crosby had he not committed suicide. This is interesting, but not shocking, as that is what pulls everyone into Crosby's story in the first place - he seemed to be on top of the world right up until his tragic end. Yet, none of it was surprising to anyone who knew him. He and his recent mistress, Josephine shot themselves in a suicide pact. The mystery is in the details of how it all exactly transpired, and my personal opinion is that they were drunk, he talked about suicide, she took him seriously, stomped on his wedding ring, took his gun and shot herself first, beating him to the punch, and so leaving him with no escape (he had originally intended to die with Caresse at a predetermined date in the 1940's). The standard theory is that "he shot her" first (she, probably willingly, but unknown), and then, a couple hours later, himself. Indeed, he had discussed death frequently, and it was his own gun that he brought into the New York hotel room that final night in December, 1929. Whatever the actuality of the two suicides, the most fascinating thing about Harry to me (and perhaps to Wolff) is that his death and life were intertwined into a sparkling surrealist poem idealized, and carried out. Harry Crosby was and is a very rare figure in American literature, and gladly, due in great part to Geoffrey Wolff, will continue to remain so. One may take what they will from his brief life, but more than simply some lost peripheral figure from the "bohemian 1920's", Harry was religously devoted to love, truth, poesy, and art. He committed himself to living out his aethetic ideals to the fullest extent possible, making his and Caresse's life together an inspiring firestorm of intense passion.

Carpe Diem.

He Meant It
Curiously, given Harry's infatuation with Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray throughout much of his life, it was a dictum of Wilde's that Uber-Critic Harold Bloom says he would have engraved above the entrances to the English Departments of every institution of higher learning if he had his way, to wit: "All bad poetry is sincere." that kept coming to my mind throughout the reading of this book. But, note, this dictum does NOT imply its converse: "All sincere poetry is bad." - An important distinction, this. - For Crosby's poetry is nothing if not sincere and, taken out of the context of his life, is bound to seem tawdry, fantastical or sloppy. In other words, it does indeed seem quite bad. But taken in the context of this life, it assumes another hue entirely. As Wolff puts it, his poems were more "testaments" than poems qua poems. All his writings on suicide, the worship of the Sun, et al seem pallid and lifeless until one realizes through the reading of this book that he lived these words. He didn't merely write them. Upon this realization, (dare I say it) they suddenly BLAZE to life.

The best aspect of the biography for me is that there is no attempt at some sort of psychobabble analysis in the study of a character that surely invites it: Not one "Id," "Ego," "Oedipus Complex," "Jungian Archetype," et blah, blah, blah. Wolff deftly narrates the life-story of this fantastic, wealthy, sybarite with his literary ambition as he lived it through his short, kaleidoscopically decadent and unbalanced life.

But, given all this, there is a prodigal consistency to his life worthy of symbolic logic, right up to the end. Thus, to me, reading this book was brisk and refreshing (pace to the Puritans). Near the end of the book, Wolff quotes Mrs. Powell as saying that all Harry's extravagant talk was "just literary." To her, it surely must have been. But as Wolff points out, "For Harry, of course, the locution 'just literary' would have been oxymoronic."

In contrast to all the "Lost Generation" writers and artists and jabberers for whom the whole scene was "just literary," to Harry, every word (Indeed, every letter) was wriggling with the blaze of life and........death.

HE MEANT IT.

The pleasures of a minor life
Geoffrey Wolff's famous 1976 biography of Harry Crosby--a minor but spellbinding figure of the so-called Lost Generation--was an ideal book for the NYRB Press to revive and reissue. As a literary figure Crosby was certainly exceptionally minor--he was a dreadful and derivative poet, and his reputedly beautiful editions published by his Black Sun Press are hard to reproduce here (and are indeed not). But his life was as fascinating a tale of early 20th-century wealthy decadence as you could wish. The best part opf the narratiove are the earlier sections, explaining how Harry rebelled against his Proper Bostonian past to pursue a live of drugs, drink, sex and lavish spending in Paris between the wars. The details of what harry did once he threw caution adside and did whatever he felt like tend to become monotonous, as stories of decadence often do (everything blurs together). But Wolff has sensitively framed his narrative, and makes a very persuasive case for why Harry was NOT typical of his generation that actuially makes an intriguing point about the kinds of narratives biographers map onto their subjects' lives. And if Wolff's prose is occasionally somewhat empurpled, it could not be more mete to its subject's temperament.

Pathology, not sociology
Wolff wrote this book in reaction to Malcolm Cowley's portrait of Crosby in Exile's Return. Unlike Cowley, Wolff did not find Crosby to be the representative figure for the Lost Generation. He finds Crosby's obsessions with suicide to predate his war service and his interest in the mystic to be Crosby's alone. The book is probably the best possible portrait of a failed poet and wealthy mystic, who happens to have a deathwish, as could possibly be written. So the book is more a study in human pathology than a sociological study of a generation. It's worth reading all the same.

The best available work on Crosby
Geoffrey Wolff's bio of the poet, publisher, and mystic Harry Crosby is a terrific read as well as a singularly important contribution to the unfortunately slender body of scholarship on Harry Crosby. Despite persistent popular and academic interest in 1920s literary Paris, Crosby & the Black Sun Press are generally ignored completely or dismissed as marginal. This is truly puzzling. Wolff's biography, while certainly not uncritical, nevertheless does take the man seriously and offers an absorbing account of the life & work of a true original. ... Read more

Reviews (2)

Sam Being Sam
"Hold On, Mr. President!" is a product of its time, the late 1980s, with Sam Donaldson offering a view from the press trenches on two presidents, Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan.

The index to this book includes the following note, perhaps in jest: "There are three names mentioned too often in this book to index: Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Carter, and Sam Donaldson." And not necessarily in that order.

I had high hopes for this book. Donaldson was a character of television news when I was growing up, the late 70s and early 80s. Whereas other television newsmen offered various lighter shades of pale, Donaldson was a colorful bulldog, always ready to put the Leader of the Free World on the spot, whether the issue at hand was hostages in Iran or his wife's taste in china. Once Donaldson cornered Reagan when the president was a guest at an ABC function, grilling him about the latest embarrassing kafuffle at the White House. Network higher ups talked of firing him, but Reagan just chuckled: "Oh, that's alright, that's just the way Sam is."

That's from the first chapter, the best in the book. Donaldson analyzes his role and how he felt he served the causes of democracy and good television. He tells some funny stories, and makes some good points: "So when I cover the president, I try to remember two things: First, if you don't ask, you don't find out; and second, the questions don't do the damage. Only the answers do."

Donaldson was a good question-asker, too; not needlessly prosecutorial or opinionated like Helen Thomas, not pinheaded and trite like Chris Wallace or countless bottle-blondes. Donaldson had substance.

And ego, too. Boy, does that come across here. It could be a drinking game for a non-social drunk. Find two sentences in a row without the words "I," "me," or "Donaldson" in it, or else take a slug. Add the words "we" or "our" and you'd have an easier time climbing K2.

Another problem with this book is it's clearly not the work of a print journalist. There's little depth, even when the subject is the news business itself. That Harry Reasoner was a surly drinker who didn't put forward his best effort is great dish, but Donaldson doesn't do much more than throw that particular skunk out there and let the reader wonder. Jimmy Carter could be brusque, but he cared. Reagan is an amiable dunce, with some moments of clarity, but trapped by his own primitive ideology.

I found Donaldson's description of Reagan most interesting, not because I agree with it (I don't) but because it demonstrates the media mindset Reagan had to work through and around in securing the goals of his presidency, clearly the most successful one since FDR's. Donaldson takes Reagan to task for missing out on arms control agreements with the Soviets, noting that one such treaty would have left the U.S. with a decided advantage. But reading later Reagan bios like "Role Of A Lifetime" and "Dutch" demonstrates Reagan had vision where Donaldson and the rest wore bifocals. He didn't want to pass limits on nuclear weapons, he wanted to eliminate them, and the world's most dominant tyranny in the process. Donaldson shakes his head at Reagan's use of the term "evil empire," but 20 years later it is the majority view Reagan spoke the truth.

A shame this book fails to analyze the larger role of the media, including the ups and downs of covering stories that may be hot one day, ice-cold the next. Also, I've yet to read a good book on Frank Reynolds, ABC's sterling anchorman from the late '70s until his death in 1983. A better take of the Reagan White House's relationship with the press, in many ways more critical of Reagan but at least more probing, is Hendrik Smith's "The Power Game." Donaldson has some ideas about the future of the media, but they seem inseparable from Donaldson's career goals. He hardly deigns to notice, when discussing the future direction of presidential press coverage, the role of cable television, instead wondering aloud whether he might anchor the news himself. In fact, Donaldson may have been the cable revolution's Marie Antoinette, his style playing well for a 30-second soundbite in an evening news program but really fey and grating in the 24-hour news cycles of our post 9/11 world.

Big fizz, little belch. Well, it is about television after all.

Funny, but drags
Hold On, Mr. President is a chronicle of Sam Donaldson's years as a reporter until 1987. There is some coverage in the beginning of the book about how Donaldson got his start, which makes for interesting and sometimes amusing reading. The book focuses heavily on his time covering former presidents Carter and Reagen. Much of the information given about his time with Carter is hysterical. While a few funny quips are given over the Reagen administration, much focus is given to the apparent bumbling of Reagen's staff and Reagen's unwillingness to take control of things himself, resulting in many embarassing blunders by his adminstration. The latter part of the book sums up Donaldson's thoughts about network news, his plans for the future, and covers briefly his personal life (including two divorces).

Unfortunately, this book really bogs down after the first few chapters. The middle part of the book, until nearly the end, is a painfully detailed summary of many of Donaldson's experience covering the Washington Beat. Perhaps it was more immediate for the telling, and therefore more interesting, when the book was written in 1987. In the year 2002, it was simply too detailed to be anything but boring.

Still, this is a well written book, giving an insider's look at Washington, the presidency, and network news workings. Of considerable interest is Donaldson's descriptions of the early days of ABC. ... Read more

Book Description

"Eloquent, aware and scrupulous . . . a rich and instructive examination of the Cold War past." --The New York Times

In 1978 a romantic young Englishman took up residence in Berlin to see what that divided city could teach him about tyranny and freedom. Fifteen years later Timothy Garton Ash--who was by then famous for his reportage of the downfall of communism in Central Europe--returned. This time he had come to look at a file that bore the code-name "Romeo." The file had been compiled by the Stasi, the East German secret police, with the assistance of dozens of informers. And it contained a meticulous record of Garton Ash's earlier life in Berlin.

In this memoir, Garton Ash describes what it was like to rediscover his younger self through the eyes of the Stasi, and then to go on to confront those who actually informed against him to the secret police. Moving from document to remembrance, from the offices of British intelligence to the living rooms of retired Stasi officers, The File is a personal narrative as gripping, as disquieting, and as morally provocative as any fiction by George Orwell or Graham Greene. And it is all true.

"In this painstaking, powerful unmasking of evil, the wretched face of tyranny is revealed." --Philadelphia Inquirer ... Read more

Reviews (9)

Skip it
While this book provides detail to what everyone knows (the Stasi spied on everyone, including the sixth of the population that worked for it) it offers very little else. Missing is any sense whatsoever of the psychological effects of living in this kind of society or any kind of nuanced understanding of what it has meant to confront these files. Ash gives some small indications of what his own responses were, but as a Westerner who expected to be spied on for his activities, his experience is not very instructive. Garton Ash has many things to be proud of, but this book is not one of them.

Excellent Book about a sensitive subject.
I came across this book by accident just searching for books about East Germany on Amazon.com. On a personal note, I myself immigrated from the USA to the DDR (Home of my fathers family) in 1982 and lived there until 1987 when I was expelled for political reasons. This book told of many things I personally experienced, confirmed many things I had long suspected and informed me of many things I never knew.
It is an excellent, accurate look at a country and a system that have passed into oblivion but left many scars on many people.

The kind of book that slaps you in the back of the head.
I did not read this book for the reasons I ended up enjoying it.

Timothy Garton Ash's delving into his Stasi file is a peek into the madness and organized obsurdity of the East German State. The reader is presented with a wonderful feel for what it was like to live in East Berlin as well as the motives and workings of both Stasi IMs and the Federal Authority which now oversees the administration of the Stasi files.

On another level it is a book about a middle aged man looking back on his Romantic youth, on a man he can not remember well, and sees again through the eyes of the slightly paranoid and slightly inaccurate secret police.

In the end though, this is a frightening book that leaves the reader wondering what are in the secret intelligence files of the Western style democracies.

Interesting but lacking....
Timothy Garton Ash's book the file was very provocative and interesting. I thoroughly enjoyed reading the personal experience of one man who happened to be in East Berlin before unification and then was able to see his file afterwards. However, i am a bit disillusioned. The story interests me but Garton Ash really doesn't say anything! I am disappointed that he so poignantly and blatantly pokes at communism and a totalitarian state. And yet he does not back it up. The book is good under the premise of democracy good, communism bad. It feels like he is just pooling for support. And nobody knew the wall was going to "fall" when it did. I know of many professors who were writing books critiquing communism who had to throw out their text because of the abrupt fall of communism. I'm wondering if this book is just a way to cash in an unexpected event. I am dissappointed. Maybe i just don't know enough of Garton Ash but if this is the case, i should not have to feel the need to know his history before reading the book. The book had some good points and kept me entertained but on the whole didn't do anything for me. Peace.

A British "Romeo": Fascinating Facts, But Not Well-Written
Ash's story is fascinating and truly unique: he is a young British historian/journalist living in E. Germany in the early '70's. Unbeknownst to him, the Stasi (E. German Secret Service)is following (almost) his every move, and documenting it in great detail. What cafe he went to, whom he said what to in passing, what magazine he bought one day, etc., etc. They even trail him when he goes to W. Berlin, and attempt to (and perhaps succeed) when he lands in Poland. What is shocking is the lengths the Stasi went to, and that a tremendous number of "ordinary citizens" helped with the spying. (Current figures are that one out of every six E. Germans helped the Stasi). What is great is that "Romeo" (the Stasi code name for Ash) not only gets his file (all 350 or so pages) after the wall comes down, but looks up all those who had spied on him decades before! (Unfortunately, their interviews are not very illuminating). Also, unfortunately, the writing is just not that good - it lacks a certain tension or "mystery" which a story like this calls for. This book is more like reading a history book: it mainly consists of "the facts". In addition, although he did some of this, Ash fails to analyze what the Stasi did in enough depth. He seems to offer simplistic answers. Also, even though what they did was horrific, in certain ways, it really didn't differ much from what happened in the U.S. during the McCarthy era. Many people lost jobs, went to jail or Europe, and many "named names", just like the E. Germans did. Unfortunately, Ash doesn't mention this at all. This book is really primarily his story, and is basically good if you want to know the depths of the spying the E. Germans did domestically. ... Read more

Book Description

When U.S.-led forces invaded Iraq in March 2003, our soldiers weren't the only ones who put their lives on the line: so did 600 "embedded" journalists, including Katherine M. Skiba. Her riveting memoir provides a vivid you-are-there account of her experiences with the Army's legendary 101st Airborne, the division celebrated for its heroism in World War II as the "Band of Brothers."

Skiba, a reporter and photographer, was the sole female civilian among the 2,300 soldiers of the 159th Aviation Brigade, whose pilots flew Black Hawk and Chinook helicopters into the thick of battle. Her dispatches were a vital lifeline between the troops and their families and earned her a grateful national audience. Reporting on the men and women in uniform with journalistic dedication, natural compassion, and an eye for the absurd, she chronicles her experiences from "media boot camp" to the kick-off of Operation Iraqi Freedom to the fall of Baghdad, including a missile attack on the brigade's desert camp.

Taking readers across the wind-blown deserts of Iraq and into cramped seventy-man tents, where personal space barely exists and tempers can flare, she deftly and sympathetically portrays her brothers and sisters-in-arms-rigid commanders, gung-ho warriors, and daring aviators, as well as intelligence officers, mechanics, medics, and cooks, among many others. She details her dealings with the soldiers, her clashes with a battalion commander, and her friendship with a lieutenant colonel who helped keep her sane. Meantime she tells of the journalist-husband she left behind-and the encouragement he gave her when the going got rough.

Whether pounding out a story on her laptop, strapping on a gas mask at a moment's notice, or flying toward the frontlines, Skiba stuck it out despite her own doubts and earned the respect of one grizzled sergeant major, who quipped: "You've got balls." The risks were very real for her and anyone else who covered or fought in the war, even in its early days, long before triumph trailed off into something less than permanent victory. Her story testifies to the courage it took to endure such risks, while acknowledging the inevitable costs of war.

This book is part of the Modern War Studies series. ... Read more

Reviews (6)

From tears to laughter, a role model emerges
The "reporter lady" didn't just bring a pen and notebook with her to the Iraq War's front lines. She brought moxie, determination, humor, wit and "balls." But more than that, Katherine M. Skiba brought her humanity to her coverage of the war as an embedded reporter. What was not seen in the rush of daily reports, is detailed in this book. The behind the scenes relationships and the un-PG interactions are shown in complete, self-effacing honesty and intimacy. Through the chapters, Skiba becomes like a close friend, evoking laughter and tears along the way.
For young journalists, this memoir should have been your J101 textbook. Beyond AP style, journalists must master dealing with odd personalities, stress, fear, obstacles, and criticism. Skiba offers lessons in all of these and more within her memoir.

My comments are based on a reading of this book...
I note the not very complimentary remarks of Robb Wood (above) and do not see any mention of that person actually reading this book.I did read it and thought it was unusually entertaining and can recommend it to others.Skiba's writing style is very good and she does an excellent job of profiling the members of the 101st Airborne which whom she served. She was very brave in my opinion to volunteer for her assignment in Kuwait and Iraq.I feel like I know her personally after reading this account of her time "in the military". Skiba performed a real service to the country by her actions.

The Human Side of War
I first learned about Katherine Skiba and her book from CSPAN2. I myself am a Skiba, but no relation of Katherine. I am also a veteran of the Vietnam War, so Katherine's book was quite an interest to me. Usually one only thinks of the horrors of war, but Katherine brings out the humanity of the people she is reporting and writing about. The book is very mesmerizing and you will not want to put it down until you have read the entire book and it's human side of the war. Reading this book has given me the insight about the human side of people during a conflict and it clearly shows me what a special and caring lady Katherine Skiba is. This was not just a job for her, but a brave and courageous move on Katherine's part to show the humanity of a war. I urge anyone with compassion and caring in their heart to purchase and read this exellent book.

I just saw Skiba speaking about the book...
I just returned from listening to Katherine Skiba promote her book at the National Press Club in Washington, DC.She was so proud of herself for being a "veteran," and was so excited to tell cute and self-serving war stories that one couldn't help but question her motives for going to Iraq in the first place.Her pandering to the "support our brave troops" sentiment and lack of skepticism or criticism leave one wondering exactly what type of journalism she was practicing.She repeatedly used the words "fun" and "exhilarating" in describing her war adventure.She was amused in recounting how a military official referred to Iraq as "Bad-guy-land."Not once in the hour of storytelling about herself in Iraq did she make reference to an Iraqi person, military or civilian.

I asked her to comment on how the embed experience may have affected her perspective on the war (and therefore the perspective of the media consumers back in America).She seemed as though it was the first time she had thought of it, and missed/dodged the point by responding with stories about how it wasn't all fun - that "tears were as plentiful as laughter."

To be fair, this book is a memoir and not a work of journalism.As evidenced by Skiba's smiling face and the proud soldiers on the cover, it is about an author who sought to tell a story about herself and the men she traveled with in Iraq.Expect an entertaining read, not an enlightening one.