To qualify as a "great summer read," I want a book that offers sympathetic characters, depth of emotion, and a forward narrative momentum that keeps me sitting on the porch long after the fireflies have gone to bed.
This Mother's Day, I'm steeped in the subject of missing mothers. I've found myself in many private conversations, and a growing public conversation, about how we cope (or don't cope) when mothers are gone, whether they've passed away or are lost to dementia.
Unlike my early days in New York, I no longer roam the boroughs attending opening after opening, party after party, all night conversations in some random artist loft/apartment/space (the after after party). It sounds great because it was great. It was also more distracting than inspiring.