The Stones Applaud, How Cycstic Fibrosis Shaped My Childhood - Teresa Anne Mullin
Colored People, a Memoir - Heny Louis Gates, Jr.
The Time of Our Singing - Richard Powers
The Memory Keeper's Daughter - Kim Edwards
Complete Feltmaking - Gillian Harris
Some typical brain laxative mysteries
But when I found this book, Gilead - Marilynne Robinson , I opened up and read the first paragraph. I was hooked. It only got better:
"I really can't tell what's beautiful anymore. I passed two young fellows on the street the other day. I know who they are, they work at the garage. They're not churchgoing, either one of them, just decent rascally young fellows who have to be joking all they time, and there they were, propped against the garage wall in the sunshine, lighting up their cigarettes. They're always so black with grease and so strong with gasoline I don't know why they don't catch fire themselves. They were passing remarks back and forth the way they do and laughing that wicked way they have. And it seemed beautiful to me..."
It goes on, lovely. I'm only a few pages in and it has struck a chord in me.