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Friday Fiction Fix: The Homeschool Experiment

September 7, 2012 by Carey Jane Clark

Friday Fiction FixYou may have noticed that for a couple of months there I was a little overwhelmed and didn’t post as much as I had been. So I’m catching up a little in terms of the reviews I’ve promised to people. As homeschool starts up again, I thought it was an appropriate time to review The Homeschool Experiment by Charity Hawkins. What’s that, you ask? A fictional book about homeschool?

In fact, yes. And it’s a wonderful read. Part chick-lit, part manual on homeschooling, part sage mothering advice, this book is a gem that I’ll probably read again. When it comes to novels, I want to be awed by the way the author puts words together, and I was not disappointed. But perhaps the most disarming thing about this book is the main character, Julianne Miller, and her very real life. Any mother who’s ever compared herself to others (and what mother hasn’t?) will relate to this down-to-earth character.

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The story follows her journey through a year of homeschooling, from her wide-eyed impressions of a homeschooling convention, trying to choose curriculum for a first-grader through to the last, somewhat victorious day of the school year.

At the beginning of the story, Julianne is clearly overwhelmed. She has good plans and intentions, even seeks the advice of others, but things quickly spin out of control. By the end of the story, she has found balance and is more sure of the reasons she wants to homeschool, although she’s still unsure about exactly what that will look like until the end of school or even whether or not she thinks their family is complete.

There was so much to relate to in this book!

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re a homeschooling mom, you’ll find so much comfort and wise advice from Julianne, but also from the network of friends who advise and help her through this year of homeschooling. You’ll see yourself on the pages, and you’ll LAUGH. A lot. Like me, you might even shed a tear or two. (But mostly you’ll laugh.)

If you’re not a homeschooling mom, but you’ve ever wondered what on earth is up with those strange folks who do and their wild “unsocialized” children, you’ll find a rare window into what the daily realities of homeschooling really are: the self-doubt, the frustrations, the rewards.

A lot of what Hawkins writes about applies not just to homeschool moms, but to any mom. What mother hasn’t felt like this?

I tried to make Daniel and Joy do math at the kitchen table, but they kept distracting each other, and I kept sending them to Time Out.

This is where I should have given up, but I didn’t. I kept heedlessly plowing full-steam ahead, ignoring any warnings of impending doom, like a smaller and crankier version of the Titanic.

But there’s also the profound and beautiful as Julianne stumbles her way to a better understanding of what homeschooling should look like for her family:

Homeschooling is a lot like my garden. It’s messy. My method seems haphazard. I am learning as I go. It rarely turns out exactly like I planned and the results are unpredictable. At some point along the way, I feel like a failure. But somehow the roots go down deep; the tender plants grow strong. And every single spring, every single summer, I am awed by the harvest God brings.
The author calls the book a novel, but admits that the story is biographical.

About the Author:

Charity Hawkins is a pen name, because the real author wrote candidly about her family’s life and wants to protect their privacy, because she doesn’t want to be famous, and because no one can pronounce or spell her real name. She does actually exist, however, and lives with her husband and three actual children in Tulsa, Oklahoma. They are in their fourth year of homeschooling.

The Homeschool Experiment is a definite recommended read. You can find out more about it at www.thehomeschoolexperiment.com or www.familymanweb.com.

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Buy After the Snow Falls

The Quarryman’s Wife by Mary DeMuth

February 3, 2012 by Carey Jane Clark

Friday Fiction FixWhen Mary DeMuth announced that she was putting the first novel she penned, The Quarryman’s Wife into print, I jumped at the chance to review it and interview her about it. I have loved Daisy Chain and A Slow Burn, and I was eager to read her first ever novel.

All month long, I have been putting our household into boxes. It’s been a challenge. A hundred times I’ve had to pick up one of my children’s homemade creations and put it in a pile to be recycled, given away or thrown in the trash. I’ve had to stare beloved toys in the face and box them up for someone else’s child. In the midst of the packing, there was chaos. Once or twice, it slipped my mind that dinner needed preparing.

In the midst of all of this, I read Mary’s book, intent on fulfilling my commitment to read and review it. But I just couldn’t get into it. I disagreed with her that it was more flowery than her current books, that she says are starker. To me, it seemed as though her more recent books are filled with more metaphor.

Every night, I read a little bit. Every day I homeschooled and packed. And packed some more.

I tried to put a finger on what was disturbing me about the book–why I wasn’t loving it like I ought to. The first chapter was riveting, certainly, and propelled the reader into the action, so that wasn’t it. It’s unlike the other books I’ve read, in that there is no mystery to solve here, save the mystery of how this family is going to survive against the odds.

The story is one of grief: Augusta Brinkworth has lost her husband. A quarry manager with a generous heart, in death he has left little behind for his family but debts and the hole of his absence. In the midst of the Depression, despite Augusta’s determination to hold the family together and maintain the house her children grew up in, everything is falling apart. Her sons seem to hate each other, one of her daughters grows daily more distant from her and the banker threatens foreclosure. In the face of the circumstances around her, Augusta withdraws. Physically and emotionally, she pulls away from her children, trapped in her own private grief.

I finally realized, halfway through the book that it was Augusta I didn’t like–not because she wasn’t likeable, but because Mary had drawn her grief so realistically, and her private struggle so truly. I was reacting against her withdrawal, just as her own children did. I identified with her grief on so many levels–personal griefs I have experienced in the last year, and now the quiet grief of saying goodbye to a life we have lived here, in order to move on to another.

As the story progressed, I found myself identifying more and more with each of the characters and making each one of them my friend. As Augusta becomes more self-aware, seeing what her paralyzing grief is doing to her family, I rejected her daughter’s assertions that she was “dead” just like her father, and hoped for her spirit to revive.

Through Augusta’s friendship with the Ukrainian immigrant Olya, Mary takes on tough questions about God and suffering. She tackles them head-on, not drawing the answers simply, but with clarity and beauty.

The climax and ending of the story was so satisfying and artistically rendered, it took me by surprise emotionally. I sat and bawled. And I cheered for Augusta and Olya and Meg and John-John. Even meddling old Aunt Bertie touched me in a surprising way.

In the end, I put this book down with reluctance, as I do every book that has touched me in a meaningful way. And although I see how Mary has matured as a writer, and see how her writing is perhaps more refined in later books, in some ways, this has become my favorite of her novels. It is a touching story of “beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning.”

- Carey Clark

 

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