ISBN-13: 9780451226495
Publisher: Penguin Group (USA)
Published: April 2009
343 pgs
First line: When I was twelve years old, I helped my granddaddy bury a box in the back garden of our Savannah house.
After the death of her parents due to a tragic accident, young Piper Mills stays with her grandparents. Her relationship between her grandmother and grandfather is unlike each other as she shares most of her feelings and is much closer to her grandfather. It is not that Piper is unwilling to open up to her grandma, she just could not help it when her grandmother is a quiet woman and she tends to keep things to herself. Anyway, she does not really take this matter to heart as her mind consisted of only one thing - and that is to become an Olympic equestrian.
However, her dream is quickly shattered after she had hurt herself during a horse riding accident. And after the death of her grandfather, Piper returns to Savannah where she inherits her grandparents' house. During this time, her grandmother stays in a nursing home since she has Alzheimer.
Just when Piper wonders what and how she would cope with everything, she remembers the box she had buried with her grandfather in the backyard. It is also at this time that she receives a gold charm of an angel holding an opened book left by her grandmother, which was given through her grandfather's lawyer when he has some papers for her to sign concerning the estate she has inherited. She later discovers some letters, a few torn pages from a scrapbook by her grandmother and a newspaper article dated 1939 of a dead infant found floating in the Savannah River; it is through this discovery that further fuel her curiosity and determination in uncovering the truth and she managed to track down one of her grandmother's friends based on some clues left of the items. However, Lillian Harrington-Ross seems reluctant in revealing what holds the past and through Piper's patience and persistence, as well as some emotions evoked during the journey, she will soon learn about her grandmother's secret past and the mystery surrounding the scrapbook and the charm. It is also through this circumstances that she will discover about her own self and having the strength in reclaiming her own life again.
The Lost Hours is not only a story about mysteries and uncovering the secrets but it also tells the readers about friendships, love, forgiveness and redemption. There is so much about this story and Karen's writing is simply beautiful. I love the way how Karen unveil the story bit by bit smoothly; never too slow or in a rush yet giving her readers enough descriptions into engrossing themselves in this story.
But what I find most beautiful about The Lost Hours is the relationship between grandmothers and granddaughters and how great it would be if we take the time in connecting with the older generations before it is too late and having to regret later, in which this is the case of Piper. There are also a few interesting characters that adds complexity to this story, for instance there are Lillian's children, Helen who is blind after she had caught measles from her brother, Tucker. Tucker seems to have his own guilt as well after discovering his wife had committed suicide and he feels he has neglected his two young children all this time.
Overall, I think The Lost Hours is a great story. I am satisifed how the story is nicely wrap up in the end, for I can think of no other ending which will be better than this. I will definitely keep a look out for Karen's books in the near future.
*****
Many thanks to Joan Schulhafer from Joan Schulhafer Publishing & Media Consulting for sending this book to me to read and review.
To find out more about Karen White and her books, click
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Other reviews:Peeking Between the PagesS. Krishna's Books(Let me know if I have missed yours.)
Guest Post by Karen White:
Recently I was riding in my car (blissfully and unexpectedly alone—except for my dog) and I heard an old Rod Stewart song. I’m not certain of the title but the lyrics go something like ‘I wish I knew what I know now when I was younger.’ Well, ain’t that the truth?
I’ve been married for almost twenty-two years to the same great guy (who travels an awful lot on business) and have two teenaged children (I know, I know, and I appreciate your sympathies): a boy who just turned fifteen and a daughter who is seventeen. I am also the author of ten published novels, with number eleven out in November 2009 and four more contracted beyond that—the first deadline being December 1st. This makes my life blessedly full, overly busy, too complicated, and way more demanding than I ever bargained for when I was a twenty-something and wanting it all.
So why do I do this to myself? This very question was asked by an old friend of mine recently and I had to think for a while before I could answer. It’s not because it was so hard to find an answer, it was just because it was so obvious that I kept trying to find a more complicated one. In a nutshell, I do what I do because being a writer isn’t what I do, it’s who I am. Although staring at a blank computer screen with a deadline hammering away at my brain while simultaneously trying to work out carpool schedules, negotiate the labyrinth of college applications, and stock the kitchen pantry is something akin to sliding down a razor blade and landing in alcohol, I am compelled to write because it’s how I’m wired. Creating characters and their stories, and then sharing them with readers, is what puts the wind in my sails.
Which brings me back to that Rod Stewart song: if I had known back before I started writing books how hard it would be, how exhausting, how many sacrifices in my personal life I’d have to make, would I still be doing this? Yep, I would. I mean, what sort of example would I be to my children if I didn’t follow my dream just because I had to work too hard? It reminds me of that Wayne Gretzky quote, “You miss 100% of the shots you never take.” Yes, life could be easier; but it certainly wouldn’t be better.
I guess I didn’t do a good enough job of explaining this to my inquisitive friend because her next question was something along the lines of how my children handled sharing me with my writing. Granted my kids aren’t overly familiar with home-cooked meals and have had to make do with me attending only 90% of all their athletic events, but they’ve seen firsthand what it’s like to pursue a dream; to set goals; to press on in the face of little failures; and to get back in the saddle after major spills. I think that’s a fair trade-off for a childhood of frozen whole wheat waffles for breakfast.
So, here I am. It’s a Saturday night in April. We just got back from spring break where we did about eight college tours with my daughter. I’ve barely had time to do the required nine loads of laundry following that trip when here I am preparing to go on my first book tour—for three weeks. Leaving my husband in charge. Ack! Like a third child, I will have to write out all of his duties (like feeding the dog and checking to make sure somebody’s fed the guinea pigs). I’ll have to pretend that getting room service every morning is going to be a hardship.
My life right now is a mixed bag of expectations, responsibilities, coming up short, and sometimes even successfully accomplishing my myriad tasks. Yes, I’m exhausted. But I think that just means that I need to go take a nap.
*****
Many thanks to Karen White for this lovely guest post, and also thanks to Joy from Joan Schulhafer Publishing & Media Consulting for making this guest post possible!
Jen
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