Book:
Being PlumvilleAuthor: Savannah J. Frierson
Publisher:
iUniverseGenre: Fiction/Romance
A few years ago I was in a bookstore talking to one of the booksellers. I was looking for a particular book and not finding it, he began showing me similar books that I might enjoy. Being a talker, of course we talked books. I remember him picking up a book and handing it to me. Of course he said that he liked it with his mouth … but his eyes said so much more. His eyes said that he loved it, and not simply in that offhand way that we tend to say that we love things, gods or people, but that real love. I will never forget that look. He closed his eyes as if going into the book itself, and took a deep breath before opening his eyes. Looking directly at me, he said, "It's a perfectly-written book."
That got my attention because I've read a lot of books. And I like books, and even those that are tattered from so many readings, hanging together by rubber bands and grace; I don't think that I've ever considered any of them perfect. Not even the sixty-six of the Bible are perfectly written. Still, I wanted to one day read a book that caused me to have that sort of reaction.
Fast forward to two months ago. I was talking with a librarian and after I'd name-dropped, she asked me if I'd ever read Being Plumville. Although I had read most of Savannah J. Frierson's works, somehow, I had never gotten around to reading that particular story. I asked her to tell me about it (translation: sell the book to me). Being a full time grad student and having a full-time job, I don't get to read for pleasure as often as I'd like to so if I'm going to invest the time reading a book, it needs to have the seal of approval from people I trust. Though I'd only just met the librarian, when she described the book, I knew I had to read it. She had that same expression that the bookseller had: awe. Like the bookseller, she closed her eyes, gathered herself and told me about the kitchen scene. 'I was there,' she said. I was there in that kitchen and I felt that in my bones. Well damn. What do you say to that? As an author, I was jealous. Couldn't help it. That is the kind of reaction you want. It's one thing for a reader to like your work; but there is no higher praise than for a reader to 'get' your work, to be present in the scene/story, to correctly interpret your prose and want to share it with others. 'It's one of my top three all-time favorite books' she said, interrupting my thoughts. Well damn again.
So I called Savannah up (yep, I have her phone number because I'm special like that) and said, "I need an autographed copy of Being Plumville." And she said something like 'what, huh?' because she was asleep and I woke her up. Anyway, fast forward to about two weeks ago. I got it and read the dedication about ten times and set the book on the table. Waiting for my laptop to power up I started reading it … and I got caught up. And when I got to the kitchen scene, I wanted to call the librarian, but I didn't think she'd appreciate a call at four in the morning. So I read on. I put the book in my truck and read it before class and in between classes. That book became like one of those traveling garden gnomes going everywhere I did (to class, to my internship, to the bathroom, to the truck). Where I went, it went.
And when I got to the end, all I could do was close the book and sigh. And I wanted to go to the bookstore and find that bookseller and tell him that I'd found a book that wasn't perfect but pretty damn close to it. I remember emailing Savannah. The subject line said: BP (because I was too lazy to type out Being Plumville) and the body of the email said this: wow. What more could I say? It was just wow. Eventually she called me asking me WTF did wow mean? Was it a good wow or a you suck wow. It was an 'I have too many words' wow. It was awesome Savannah…awesome, and if I wasn't pretty sure that there was a book out there scribed by Jesus, I might say that it was perfectly-written.
Five hundred out of five.
Jayha
