Woman dealing with partial amnesia discovers both new and old friends as she relearns who she is. Humorous situations ensue as well as elements of mystery and romance.
Lana Lang Smyth knows she cannot remember much of her life,
yet she has a big house, an annoying roommate, a cat named Sophie and a whole lot of questions.
Questions that include the mystery of her garden gnomes strange behavior, apparitions that could be ghostly, or somehow manufactured, who her *new* friends are, and why she cannot get a coveted Gold Library Card.
These mysteries and more play out in a humorous setting with multiple quirky characters and unusual situations.
A fun read, appropriate for all ages 13 and over; minor sexual references, no serious violence, a few adult language situations.
The roommate slunk in bearing a pile of mail. She brushed her teeth with her tongue as she sorted through it and it was the most annoying sound Iíd heard in ages. I turned the radio on and set the volume up higher than I would have liked. Especially since they were playing Christmas Carols already. Singing Chipmunks.
Obviously, this in turn annoyed the roommate since she heaved a stack of mail in my direction and ran up the stairs to her lair. Most of the mail did land on the coffee table, but I had to get up and reach for the few pieces that missed. The first thing to catch my eye was a reminder notice from the meth clinic. Er, I mean the deli. They had potato salad ready for me and if I didnít pick it up by yesterday they would throw it to the cats in the alleys and never make any for me again.
Normally, this would have made me really mad. In the scheme of things, though, it seemed about the only normal thing going on. The deli owner had both a temper and an usual sense of justice.
Justice. That reminded me. As soon as Tommy made an appearance, Tim and Mom both had orders to bring him to my castle to stand in judgement. I would have to have on hand several dozen rotten tomatoes if he were to be given proper Vegetable Justice. I would also need several semi athletic people to help toss them at him. I really donít know too many people around here. Kenjl maybe. I wasnít sure if Tim would participate. Pregnant Pattie was too swollen to invite her, although she might enjoy it. She could be our judge and keep score.
Cynde from the library probably would disapprove, but on the other hand I could ask. She might even bring her kids! I needed more recruits. I had an AHA moment. The Aging Hippies Volleyball Team! I typed up a flyer to post on the beach where they play.
The specifics werenít important, but just that they show up at my house in clothes worth getting stained for some Vegetable Justice fun. I left my phone number and instructions to call for the final details of date/time. Now all I had to do was find a way to get this posted. I thought and thought and thought some more. I got a brain cramp. The obvious answer was one that might not go over well. Iíd have to ask Mom. I could probably persuade her with the argument that Vegetable Justice was better than me having Tommy arrested and thrown in the clink.
Her motherís instinct to protect her young might work. After all, a few rotten vegetables werenít going to hurt him, right? I gave up the idea of asking the volleyball team to participate.
MyShelf.com by Chris Querry
"Are You Gonna Eat That Banana?"
An Improbable Tale
by Laura Hinds
Iím usually not too keen on mysteries. They become predictable after a time. But the title of this one, "Are You Gonna Eat That Banana?" intrigued me. I chuckled through the first couple of pages. And then I fell off the couch for the rest of the book. Ok, so hereís a story of a single amnesiac woman renting part of her house to another woman who steals her potato salad. Garden gnomes appear and disappear, fires burn the neighborsí newspapers, one of the main characters is an incontinent iguana, another is Tim the toe masseur and his mom, Mom, the aging hippie beach volleyball player. I shouldnít forget Bruce, the Banana Cream Pie Guy. All of the characters interact in a way so as to make sense, so as to become vivid in the readersí minds. Itís a mystery, but just when you think you have it figured out, Laura Hinds throws a banana peel in front of you and teases you with the REAL mystery.
Iíve not laughed so much with a book in many years. The writing is so unique as to make it a genre in itself. Laura tells a story from the first person as if she were holding a conversation with the reader, as if she were commenting on the previous dayís events. She is familiar, humorous, and draws the reader into the story as a participant, not an observer. I can picture this whole book on the big screen. Even now as I recall the conversations and the descriptions, I start laughing. Laura Hinds, how clever you are. I cannot wait for the next. And for those readers who donít care for mysteries, you will be surprised and absolutely delighted with this mystery.
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