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3 stars

I cannot rate Daisy Jones & the Six any higher than 3 stars for a number of reasons. Mostly though, because of my own biases, admittedly. First of all, the fact that this is written in an interview format is the initial problem. I don’t think it was done very well. Granted, it can be almost impossible, written as such, to see characters change and grow and be privy to their inner dialog and complex back stories. So the characters never became fleshed out to me; they never felt real, they were forever cardboard flat and stereotypes. Plus they were all terrible people in their own ways and it’s hard to garner any sympathy towards them and their plights. I kind of hated everybody. The drug usage was very generic seeming… like the author didn’t know what she was talking about. Dude. Been there and done that.

The interview format CAN be a device to tell a compelling story though! One of the books on my “favorites shelf” is [b:Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk|14595|Please Kill Me The Uncensored Oral History of Punk|Legs McNeil|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1436668905l/14595.SY75.jpg|1820137]. It is a comprehensive telling of the New York City (and elsewhere tbh) punk movement in the 70s. All the major players are here, Iggy and the Stooges, the MC5, Patti Smith, various and sundry Ramones, Blondie and company, Richard Hell in various incarnations, Johnny Thunders and various bands, groupies, hangers on, transvestites, bar owners, managers, photographers etc… It is done so thoroughly and so well that even I, who had/has little interest in punk rock, was completely captivated and moved. It is a tour de force of rock music story-telling and you will spend many hours on the internet looking at old photographs and listening to the music. Once you read that book you will view Daisy Jones & the Six as a pale imitation. Truth.

At this point in my life I have read countless (countless!) rock biographies. To the point that I am sick of them, honestly. I started reading them as a teenage music lover back in the later 70s. The first of which were probably biographies of Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison who were, at that point, already dead. Through the years I’ve read SO MANY I have a hard time even recalling what-all and who-all I’ve read about. And not all of them are of people/music I am particularly drawn towards (see Please Kill Me). I would read anybody’s biography because, you know, gotta have my sex, drugs and rock and roll! I usually found them to be compelling reads back in the day.

Now some biographies and autobiographies are better than others, admittedly. The ones that are endorsed by the artist themselves are the worst because they are so sanitized of the juicy intrigues as to render them sterile. It just becomes a short childhood backstory and then album and concert recitations, marriages/divorces. Those are so boring to read and worthless to a real fan. So are the ones that are NOT endorsed because they draw their material from old magazine and tv interviews etc and it is just the same old, same old information you already knew anyway. See various biographies on Stevie Nicks, John Cougar Mellencamp, Pat Benetar, or [b:Girl in a Band|22693211|Girl in a Band|Kim Gordon|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1412840109l/22693211.SY75.jpg|42205774] I found Kim Gorden to be a kindred spirit but she was real stingy with letting people see into her heart, ironically, just exactly as I would be. Ha. It made for a disappointing read though.

The second worse, perversely, are the ones so filled with sex and drugs, rehabs, relapses, to render one stupified and overdosed. Like “get it together already”. Sadly some rock stars just can’t and don’t and die. See [b:Scar Tissue|96647|Scar Tissue|Anthony Kiedis|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348688305l/96647.SY75.jpg|908343], [b:Slash|1970449|Slash|Slash|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347554088l/1970449.SY75.jpg|2338187], [b:Not Dead and Not for Sale|10225109|Not Dead and Not for Sale|Scott Weiland|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1344401104l/10225109.SY75.jpg|15124898] (sadly, yes Scott, dead).

The best kind of rock biography to read are few and far between unfortunately. Those are the ones filled with juicy tidbits of sex and drugs, yes, an interesting backstory/childhood, ok, and that special “something” that allows the reader a glimpse into an artist’s heart and soul-some kind of reckoning or redemption or pivot to become a better person. The reader has to be able to see past the persona and ego, past the drugs, past the recording studios and concert venues. It’s almost like a magical alchemy to not only show the larger than life rock star, warts and all yes, but also the real humanity residing in a living breathing soul. Maybe not every rock star HAS this beautiful soul, I don’t know, but it CAN be done. See [b:Acid for the Children|39667068|Acid for the Children|Flea|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1575214520l/39667068.SY75.jpg|61247052], [b:It's So Easy: And Other Lies|11156963|It's So Easy And Other Lies|Duff McKagan|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1306787060l/11156963.SX50.jpg|16080834], [b:I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp|15819523|I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp|Richard Hell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1353159963l/15819523.SX50.jpg|21548539], [b:Just Kids|341879|Just Kids|Patti Smith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1259762407l/341879.SY75.jpg|332242]. And of course, also, Please Kill Me: the Uncensored Oral History of Punk by Legs O’Neil even though this book is about the punk rock movement as a whole told through interviews, not so much the individual stars themselves always, but it has a lot of heart and is a lot of fun.

And yes, I grew up in a different era when rock music was SO important to us to the point we identified ourselves by our choices. We bought magazines like Circus and Creem and Hit Parader and the ubiquitous Rolling Stone. We cut out pictures of our favorite rock stars and taped them to our bedroom walls. We read stories and expose’s written by personalities like Lester Bangs and Lisa Robinson and Cameron Crowe who had real access to the rock stars; flew on the Starship and hung out and partied with Led Zeppelin and the like. People like Annie Leibovitz and Mick Rock, rock photographers who photographed the album covers and went on tours with the bands to document it all. We watched The Midnight Special and Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert late-night on the weekends. We stood in line for concert tickets and album releases. We listened to FM radio and on air interviews with rock stars who were in town for that night’s concert and listened to them play whole album sides. When Mtv became a thing in the 80s we were charmed even though, maybe some of the music played wasn’t exactly to our tastes. Daisy Jones & the Six tries to draw on that energy and enthusiasm but falls short because…I was actually alive when it was all happening. We all read in Rolling Stone of the incestuous goings on in Fleetwood Mac in “real time”. This story pales in comparison, truthfully, and if this kind of thing floats your boat, you’d be much better off reading Mick Fleetwood’s, [b:Fleetwood: My Life and Adventures in Fleetwood Mac|226882|Fleetwood My Life and Adventures in Fleetwood Mac|Mick Fleetwood|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1387710854l/226882.SX50.jpg|219764].

I realize I’m not really giving you any real reasons why I liked/disliked this particular story. I just gave you my whole lifetime of rock and roll fan experience. But it is what shapes my reaction to this book ultimately. I guess, in my long-winded way I’m saying Daisy Jones & the Six is ok reading. It’s not bad. It’s another summer read type of book where you don’t have to burn too many brain cells keeping the characters and the plot straight. It doesn’t ask too much of you and is an enjoyable enough, light, gossipy type of book about a rock band from the 70s. But… the REAL thing is out there man! There are so many rock biographies to choose from. I just gave you a handful of what I personally consider some of the best in this huge genre. Go out there and read them. They’re interesting and they’re everywhere in any library or bookstore. Start with Mick Fleetwood’s if Daisy Jones & the Six intrigued you. Then move on to some of the other’s whose music interests you. The world is your oyster. Or rock band… or something.

Okay, so I am old and I am jaded, what can I say?

This is a (kind of) good book but it's not great. There is no depth of character even though you are given Evelyn Hugo's whole life story within the pages. Evelyn was a cardboard cutout (and unlikable) and all you really know about her can be summed up in a few sentences. Just somewhat above ok-ish truthfully.

I liked the old Hollywood setting though. I liked the period of time it brought back to life-when America worshipped movie stars, bought magazines to catch up on the latest gossip, went to theaters to watch their favorite stars perform. It really was a big deal back in the 40s to about the mid 70s. Movie studios controlled the artists' lives back in the earlier days and would manipulate and curate the artists' persona, love life, artistic choices, fashion. Cover up messes and hide scandals, too. I grew up at the tail end of that era and can somewhat remember what it was like to go see a movie like The Way We Were with Barbara Streisand and Robert Redford. Or Ali McGraw and Ryan O'Neal in Love Story. I recently watched Love Story again on tv after not even thinking about it for at least 45 years or so and thought "Oh, how hokey 'Love means never having to say you're sorry', yeah right, give me a break." And then crying at the melodramatic ending anyway, lol.

The great love affair of Evelyn with fellow actress Celia St. James was not belivable in the slightest and so bland and passionless and blah. And as the whole of the story pivots around that "great love" and it's not even interesting... it makes the rest of the story lackluster as well.

Easy enough reading if you want a sort of mindless book to read at the beach or beside the pool where you don't have to concentrate too hard to keep the plot straight but still be entertained enough until something better and more entertaining happens to pull your attention away. It'll be easy enough to pick up where you left off... blah blah blah Evelyn gets married AGAIN...

The reveal at the end was WEAK SAUCE and kind of ruined the book in my opinion. It was NOT needed.

2 1/2 stars

This book is hard to rate for a number of reasons. First off, it's not very good, so there's that. Secondly it does keep you reading to find out what fucked up things will happen next so there is that too. It's like a typical "pot boiler" type, easy enough reading, titillating sexual tidbits, which truth be told, I didn't care for, but I know a lot of women do, hense the popularity of books like 50 Shades of Gray etc... plot twists and a big "reveal" at the end which has you scratching your head going... ???!!! So that's kind of a positive because you end up thinking "wha...? What the hell?"

So, I guess I can understand why some people rate it so highly, because all that I mentioned is what they want from pleasure reading. And that's fine. We all have different tastes. I mean some people voted for Trump. But, I don't know. For me I expect a better more believable overall story, better character development, better characters in general. I'm not really interested in thrillers for the most part anyway and hate books like Girl on a Train or Gone Girl.

I don't really have a hard time suspending disbelief. I mean, I read a lot of Stephen King for god's sake and general horror books and dystopian stories and some science fiction. So I CAN suspend disbelief and just go with it pretty easily. But I cannot take gaping plot holes and inexplicable behavior and just straight up kookiness from characters. I can't suspend disbelief that someone can fake being in a vegetative state for months and even medical professional don't catch on I mean, come on.

This book asked way too much from it's readers and I just wasn't interested in the characters or even the plot to forgive it's many flaws. Mostly, the story was boring in between the fucked up parts. Every character was horrible. The sex scenes were cringey. It seemed written from the general formula... unreliable narrator protagonist, hunky studly male character as love interest for protagonist, but maybe he is untrustworthy?, some kind of crime or fucked up thing the protagonist observes usually involving hunky stud and an antagonist, plot twist, some creepy things happeneing, big reveal, the end. Maybe some sex scenes but, hopefully not, haha.

If you like plot twists and fucked up reveals and sex scenes that lack any sexiness whatsoever then maybe this book will be for you. For me, not so much. But that's cool. You probably wouldn't like the kinds of books I rate highly. And I would never, ever, under any circumstance whatsoever, vote for Trump.

ps Team manuscript for life.

I like Elizabeth Strout's books. I've read most of her books by this point. She writes very simply, about every day seeming people and events. But, I don't know how to explain, there is a quiet emotionality (is that a word?) that appeals to me. It is never ostentatious or show-offy but she makes her characters come alive and you can understand what makes them tick. Lucy Barton is a very lowkey character. She confesses to feeling invisible to others. But she has a rich inner dialog and she treats others with respect and dignity. She is a very easy person for other to feel able to be themselves around and they open up to her.

I don't know how to explain... Elizabeth Strout takes a simple book about a quiet person and makes it come alive. It's magical really. I can't give it 5 stars because nothing really happens out of the ordinary, lol. It is, however an enjoyable read for a certain type of reader who enjoys this type of thing.

Love Elizabeth Strout. I'll read anything she writes.

2 1/2 stars

There were parts of the book I liked and other parts seemed very silly and full of plot holes. I kept going back and forth... I like this, I want to find out what happens next---this is ridiculous, what the hell?

All in all, though the book is ok and keeps you reading I think it ultimately fails and basically says nothing at all. The silly part was it was based off of real events happening right now in America. The political division, covid, weirdos like "the boogaloo boys" anti-government types and trumpers, mental health struggles of our kids, climate changes, opioid epidemic etc... It tried to shoe-horn in every major topic which is cool, I guess, I mean this is our reality in America right now, but it basically went nowhere. These societal ills are complicated and not easily solvable so of course a mere writer of fiction will not have the answers, so uh, why go there? Maybe just choose ONE and examine how it affects the average American family. There is a compelling story there- you don't need to pile all of these problems in one story. Especially if they cannot be resoved in a believable fashion.

The main focus of the book, teenagers trying to save a young girl from a Jeffery Epstein type character was so unbelievable as to be silly. Come on... these psychologically damaged kids from a psych ward suddenly become superheros? Hmmm... And what was with the whole interlude with the witch? That made absolutely NO SENSE and did nothing to further the narrative. Storylines went nowhere and weren't resolved, just "And they lived happily ever after".

the end

When I was 15-16 years old I developed a love, bordering on obsession with Led Zeppelin in general and Jimmy Page in particular. I loved, loved, loved him above all else (except, maybe, getting high. I mean, come on. It was the 70s and I was 16 years old at a catholic high school in Indiana, give me a break). He was the GOAT and could do no wrong in my eyes. Worshipped the devil? I mean you gotta do what you gotta do, right? Dated 14 year olds? Well, good, maybe that means he would date ME! ha. Did drugs and stumbled around in a stupor? I mean who hasn't? Was interested in the occult and the tarot and astrology? I am scorpio, scorpio rising... bring it.

Now? Maybe not so much.

When I was 16 I would have rated this book 5+++++ stars. I would have memorized half of it by reading it over and over again and gotten a bigger purse so I could carry it around with me. Now, I am old and having read a plethora of rock biographies, I grow weary. Sure, I loathe the superficial type of endorsed rock biography that kind of skims the surface and doesn't get its hands dirty in the muck and mire of the wicked garden of personal pedadillos. Or somehow shows us only the cardboard cutout version of what we know is a larger than life personality. This one, for sure shows us the dirt as well as who was the engineer on what particular album in what particular recording studio or who was backstage at the show at MSG. Everything is here. But, oy and vey, maybe too much friggin dirt, hand me that shovel, yo; I need to plant some seeds in this wicked garden.

As many rock biographies and autobiographies have done to me in the past, my eyes begin to glaze over by the repetition of drugs, concerts, albums, sex, drugs, more drugs, more sex, drugs, rinse, repeat. Here it is the same old same old... the constant taking of drugs, the endless mindless debaucheries, THE CRIMINAL sexual activites, the violence, the drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, kinda mind and soul numbing, no? I mean how many more times can one say Peter Grant's use of cocaine was WORSE THAN EVER? PRODIGIOUSLY OUT OF CONTROL? I mean how much more out of control can out of control get? It becomes meaningless. Redundant. Also, Do what thou wilt does not mean do what thou wants, Mr. Page. Neither Crowley nor Page had wills strong enough to withstand an addiction to heroin. They both were kind of terrible human beings, sadly. Teenage me cries and cries. Messing around with goetia gonna get to you, you weak willed meat puppets.

Anyway, this is the definitive Led Zeppelin biography. It could have used some more editing, certainly. Clocking in at almost 600 pages isn't really necessary. If you are just a casual fan of the band, maybe skip it. You will hate them after reading this. Long time fans like me will read it, find out nothing new, really, and decide to listen to Physical Grafitti in it's entirety because when was the last time I even thought about that album? It still rocks btw.

Beware all ye who tread the path.

I really liked this book. This is a unique account of what it's like to hike the Appalachian trail with a family of 8. This is not a blow by blow account of trail life, or historical lessons in trail factoids, or town facts, or do's or dont's, or shelter ratings, or best water sources, or restaurant reviews, etc... So if you're looking for a trail guidebook, this ain't it. This is a story of what it's like to hike with 8 distinct personalities of varying ages and how they helped one another overcome adversities to keep pushing forward. This is about forging unlikely friendships on the trail. This is about opening oneself up to the adventure, to the pain, to the helping hand. This is about trusting yourself and trusting the stranger. This is about letting go and accepting the lessons when they are provided no matter the source.

It really was an accomplishment that this family actually finished the trail. Yes, they had some help occasionally with lodging and food. But they did all the hiking all day long, up and down mountains, through bug infested forests and wetlands, in every conceivable weather situation. There was sickness. There were arguments and tears. There were roadblocks and problems. There were times when it was almost too much to muster the will to continue. But they kept putting one foot in front of the other mile after mile. They helped each other carry the burden of the gear needed, of the mental aspect of the hike, as well as helping each other carry the literal weight of the baby brother. Maybe you don't like the way they went about things and that is a legitimate gripe, I guess, for hiking purists. But you will have to give this family kudos for the fortitude to keep hiking, for the ability to suffer, for the willingness to enjoy opportunities to bond with fellow hikers. They proved their ability to reach their goal, Mt Katahdin. And no, let's face it, there is no real reward at the end. Nobody cares. Life returns to normal once the trail finally ends so many months later.

This is a view of an American family living an alternative American life. It's worth a read to understand there are different ways of doing things for any number of reasons. It's okay to think outside the box of societal norms. There are countless lessons to be learned outside of the classroom, outside of comfortable living rooms and warm, cushy beds at night. The Crawfords might not be raising their kids to be book smart. They are raising tough, courageous, resilient kids nonetheless and that is a noble goal.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Just, uh uh, no way. No can do.

The only reason I am giving this 2 stars and not 1 is because the book, in spite of itself, did give the reader some things to ponder. About the natural world and humans place in it. About the way we alter it even as we revere it. About who we are, nature vs nurture, the way we alter our "real" selves through drugs, therapy, etc... Does it make us "better" even though we are not truly "ourselves" any longer? Stuff like that is worth examining.

But the rest was schlock. Pure cornball. And the ending. Just nope, nope, nope.

Read it if you are a corny, sentimental type. I, myself have had a life-long adversion to corny and the obvious. I am a life-long contrarian and refuse to be lead. Oh you might get me to follow along for a while but there comes a point when I balk. In this story that point was reached. You won't get the intended reaction from cold-hearted me-I guarantee.

2 1/2 stars

This book started strong and lost it's way about 1/3 of the way in. There were too many characters and none of them were particularly developed or even believable or appealing as real people. They all felt like bit players. I would guess a pandemic/dystopian novel needs to follow a few people (heros) who the reader cares about on an emotional level, identifies with, roots for etc. There needs to be a visceral reaction to the gut-punch of the fright of infection and the unendurable existential angst one feels at the loss of human life. Not just, ho-hum, turn the page. These characters were cardboard cutouts and the choices they made were inexpicable at best. Some characters were left hanging, like the boy Aleq and we never get to know in an emotional, intuitive way, how he felt, what it was like to know the part he played in unleashing a pandemic; the loss of his entire family and friends of the village and way of life. In addition the science of the way the microbe worked went so far over my head that I'm not even sure how it worked to infect for one, how it used the dna splice, how that came about where it came from or if it was even physically possible in real world applications. Sounded like some gobble-de-gook blah blah blah to me.

Eh, this could have been fleshed out better and examined more closely the surreal feeling of the realization that the world is in deep doo-doo. The book is short so there was plenty of space to do this. Maybe the book wanted to portray the lack of time to come to terms with it all, I don't know.

It was ok.