Carley Fortune's One Golden Summer is just what I needed. In this follow-up to Every Summer After, Fortune returns to the idyllic world of Barry's Bay, giving Charlie Florek his chance to play hero. Still, he's not the star of this story. That would be Alice Everly, the gifted photographer who sees him -- and is seen by him -- through her camera lens.
Burned out by a breakup and career ennui, Alice retreats to the lake to care for her grandmother. Away from the stress of the city, she lets down her hair (literally!) and makes a summer bucket list. Meeting a man is the last thing she wants, but that changes when she bumps into Charlie. Gorgeous and irreverent, he captivates her -- and gets under her skin. Still, there's no avoiding him because he's the caretaker for her cottage. Not to mention the boy in the photo that she took seventeen years ago, the one that launched her career. Back then, Alice was an awkward teen, hiding yet yearning to belong. At thirty-three, she has a chance to finally put herself in the picture. And she's not the shy girl that she used to be, nor is Charlie the bad boy he portrays.
Nostalgic and poignant, One Golden Summer is everything I love about this season. Despite being indoorsy, it makes me want to cannonball into a lake, then nap on the shore, sunburn and mosquitoes be damned. Fortune paints a beautiful picture (sorry not sorry, the pic puns keep coming), reminding us that sometimes getting it right means getting away from it all.
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When my sister insisted that I'd love Shelby Van Pelt's Remarkably Bright Creatures, I was skeptical. I mean, a story about a sea creature and an aquarium janitor hanging out? Wasn't that a little too much like The Shape of Water? Never mind that I never saw that movie. It was weird, and that was that. But then I spied a paperback copy of Remarkably Bright Creatures in Target. Not only did the cover feature a colorful octopus, the outer pages were yellow and red, splashed with fish, coral, and hibiscuses. Apparently, this is a new special-edition trend in books, and I was mesmerized. So into the cart it went. Once I started reading it, I couldn't put it down.
Seventy-year-old, ninety-pound Tova Sullivan is no stranger to loss. Her husband died a couple of years ago, and their only child died in a boating accident at eighteen. But as a stoic woman of Swedish descent, Tova doesn't show pain. Instead, she copes by working the night shift cleaning the local aquarium. Making the floor and glass sparkle and being among the sea life in the deep, dark quiet give her peace. But it isn't until she befriends a special and cerebral giant Pacific octopus named Marcellus that she begins to heal.
Cantankerous yet wise, Marcellus is a rescue at the end of his life. From his first-person accounts, we learn that he knows how to escape his tank -- and that he has information about Tova's son. Yet despite his pompous façade, Marcellus has a heart -- three, if you want to get literal -- and wants to help Tova, his fellow aloof but caring confidante, find the closure she so desperately needs.
Remarkably Bright Creatures is one of the most unusual books I've ever read. But it's also one of the sweetest. I couldn't help but laugh and cry as the tiny yet mighty Tova navigated her grief and golden years. Indeed, Van Pelt spins a strange yet realistic tale of humanity that transcends species. She gives us an ocean of empathy and a book destined to be a classic.
It doesn't get much brighter than that.
