Earlier this year, I read a book called “The Old Man. I picked it up on Christmas Day because my brother had gifted it to my father and written on the inside cover: To my Old Man. Love, Brooks. I thought that was funny or at least clever, and I started reading 48 hours later, I was done, and I was surprised at how easily digestible the account of an aging espionage officer truly was. When I dropped the book back off at my dad‘s and apologized for stealing his Christmas present, he said it was OK because he had already watched the show version with Jeff Bridges. On my birthday in late February, when I saw him again, I asked him if he had read the book, ok, and he said that it stood up in comparison. I’m one of those people who agrees that 90% of the time the book is better than the movie (show), but I haven’t seen it yet, so I can’t really weigh in yet.
Speaking of television shows based on books, I also read the entire Silo series by Hugh Howey over Christmas. The show on Apple TV is something that my daughter and I have been hooked on and waiting for large chunks of time (literally years) in between seasons. The first book,” Wool, “ is the source material for the first two seasons of the Apple TV show. When I bought the books at Main Street books and Frostburg, I told myself I would get ahead of the show, but within a year and a half between seasons, I didn’t last very long. I did wait until the end of the second season to finish the first book. However, in the doldrums between Christmas and New Year’,s I just blasted through books two and three,” Shift” and “Dust” respectively. I won’t ruin your potential watch party by giving away any spoilers, but I will say that where the show deviates from the books doesn’t hurt the quality of either product. The book’s plot and point of view tend to jump around and sometimes even jump hundreds of years into the future. This could be a bit jarring, but it’s also quite fulfilling to see a story arc that makes sense of such a long period of time.
If we’re continuing our theme, dear readers, of books and movies made into TV shows, I have to include a series that my friend Wade‘s father, Randall, has told me about on multiple occasions, when visiting their house in Grantsville. I think it came up when we were discussing how much I like the first Mission Impossible film with Tom Cruise, and he asked if I had ever seen the Jack Reacher films. I had and he said before I see one I should check out the books. I did so, and I blew through it in about 72 hours. The I was able to see the first season on Amazon of the same name as the books. I have to say I agree with Randall that the Amazon Prime version is much more true to the book’s source material when it comes to the stature of the main character. Tom Cruise is famously short to the point where he had to stand on boxes or something while filming scenes with his wife at the time, Nicole Kidman, for Eyes Wide Shut (Kubrick’s controversial last film). On the other hand, the guy who plays Reacher on the Amazon Prime show is a hulking bruiser named Alan Ritchson. This portrayal is much more loyal to the words penned by Lee Child.
I know I write about a lot of books that have political leads or lofty subject matter that makes you think, but I wanted to be clear that sometimes I indulged in pulp and easy reads. Lilian Jackson Braun’s The Cat Who Ate Danish Modern is the second book in her beloved The Cat Who… mystery series, and is no exception to this pulpy rule. The series features Jim Qwilleran, an out-of-luck journalist who stumbles into detective work with the unexpected help of his brilliant Siamese cat, Koko. This novel sees Qwilleran assigned to cover interior design—a topic he knows nothing about—but the assignment takes a dark turn when a prominent decorator is murdered, and valuable antiques go missing. At the heart of the novel is the dynamic between Qwilleran and Koko, a relationship that is both humorous and surprisingly deep. Qwilleran, a skeptical and somewhat gruff newspaper reporter, doesn’t initially believe in the idea of a “psychic” cat, but he gradually comes to appreciate Koko’s uncanny intelligence. Their bond grows through playful intellectual exchanges. Qwilleran enjoys playing word games, often speaking in riddles or puns when talking to Koko, who responds with unexpected reactions—flicks of his tail, sudden yowls, or fixations on seemingly unrelated details. These interactions are more than just amusing asides; they inadvertently guide Qwilleran toward solving the mystery.
Qwilleran’s background in journalism gives him a love of wordplay, and he often talks through the case with Koko as if the cat were a fellow detective. He makes puns, rhymes, and offhand remarks that, while meant to be lighthearted, sometimes trigger Koko’s pe- peculiar responses. For instance, when Qwilleran muses about something “smelling fishy,” Koko reacts in a way that suggests there is, quite literally, something fishy about the crime scene. While the crimes themselves remain serious, the novel’s lighthearted tone and the delightful interactions between man and cat set it apart from traditional detective fiction. It would probably make a good TV series. I wonder if they ever made one? I should Google that.
To wrap up this month’s “Book Club,” I would like to give you a glimpse into my reading list for the second half of 2025. First up is Tom O’Neill’s CHAOS: Charles Manson, the CIA, and the Secret History of the Sixties. Now, I can hear my daughter saying – Why do you love cults? But trust me, this is not your typical cult or Charlie Manson exposé. Apparently, O’Neill spent nearly two decades digging into this, starting with a magazine assignment that just kept unearthing more and more unsettling questions. What he uncovered isn’t just about Manson and the Family; it’s about a much bigger, murkier picture of the late sixties, specifically the unsettling connections between the counterculture movement and, believe it or not, the CIA. We’re talking about getting a clearer, albeit disturbing, view of how the Agency might have been involved in or at least observing, the very fabric of the hippie movement, and what implications that has for our understanding of that era.
What really hooked me to start reading this one, and where I think this book will spark some incredible discussion, is O’Neill’s relentless pursuit of the truth behind some of the era’s most bizarre occurrences. He connects dots you never thought existed, particularly around figures like Dr. Joly West and Dr. Stanley Gottlieb. If those names ring a bell, it’s because they’re central to the story of the CIA’s MKULTRA program – you know, the mind control experiments. O’Neill delves into how their work, and their presence at places like Deep Creek Lake, ties into the larger narrative of the sixties, and even touches- es upon the tragic death of Frank Olson, which many of you might remember from the excellent Netflix documentary “Wormwood.” It’s all interconnected, and O’Neill’s book promises to pull back the curtain on some truly disturbing and often overlooked aspects of American history. Get ready for a deep dive; this isn’t going to be a light read, but I guarantee it’ll be fascinating.
Written by Collen DuBose