My own daring admission

There are two possible endings to this story - Either I'm a bad, bad PBN reviewer, or I'm a good, good person.

I hope it's the latter.

The book in question is "Daring Admissions" by Jane O'Connor, which I agreed to read and review for the Parent Blogger Network.

But about one page into the book - which I was already starting to enjoy, thus making me reevaluate my harsh opinion of "chick-lit" - I came across a somewhat questionable passage, and I decided not to read the book for fear of its contents. (Not that it was thaaaat bad, I just figure there are too many good books out there to sully myself with anything that doesn't make me personally feel good.)

But wanting to be true to PBN, I told myself I would give it another try. I seriously said I would. And as of yesterday, I was still telling myself that I should read it. But as of today, I still hadn't.

So I don't really have a review to give per se, other than to warn any of my prudish friends to avoid at least the first chapter.

It's rather a pity because the main character is a copy editor, and you know that's my true calling in life. (Shortly after professional blog reader and clothes shopper.) And there's even a murder mystery. Just read the book description here:

Miranda "Rannie" Bookman—43, divorced mother of two, with a recent love life consisting of a long string of embarrassingly brief encounters—is beginning to feel like a dangling participle: connected to nothing. Her career as a copyeditor is down the toilet (she makes one little slip—a missing "l" from the last word in the title of the Nancy Drew classic The Secret of the Old Clock—and suddenly she's Publishing Enemy #1!), so she's been forced to take any gig she can get. And that means giving tours at the Chapel School, the ultra-exclusive, ultra-expensive, private academy that her children attend. Certainly not the most interesting of employments . . . at least until someone stumbles across the dead body of the Director of College Admissions.

Investigating a murder was never in her job description, but with her soon-to-be-college-bound boy Nate a prime suspect, Rannie has little choice. Besides, who better to dot all the "i"s and cross all the "t"s than a self-proclaimed "language cop"? Her diligence might even lead her to a brand-new love. Or to a killer. Or to another corpse—hopefully not her own.

Sounds good, doesn't it? Read a real review here to confirm that.

The good part is I can't blow the ending for you. And I can feel a little bit better about myself for making what is a good choice for me. (And totally up to you!)

But, I may be in for a whuppin' from PBN. Do you think they believe in spanking?

Dare to be a girl!

By now, you've probably heard of The Dangerous Book for Boys. In essence, it's an encyclopedia of boyhood and hit the New York Times bestseller list with such a vengeance that now Disney wants to make it into a movie. (Though, I'm admittedly puzzled what it would be about.)

Anyway, lest women began to feel unloved, Andrea J. Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz decided to pen a complementary book called The Daring Book for Girls, all about things every girl should know - like how to put your hair up with a pen or a how to negotiate a salary.

OK, so it's not deep stuff. It's a coffee table book, people. This isn't a book that will change your girls' lives, but it will most certainly give them an added boost of confidence, along with a little girl pride. Or, if all else fails, it will entertain them.

I dig this book. It's a fun flip-read, which means you can open it up to any page and get a quick kick out of its contents. It's the kind of book I'll keep out for years and still never have read in chronological order. And I bet it's going to come in handy when I least expect - like when Miss Dub needs to know how to read a tide chart.

If you have girls, you should get this book. It celebrates being a true girl - not a ditsy sexpot, but a girl who loves to build forts and have slumber parties.

Thanks PBN for the fun read. Now, what about a Daring Book for Mothers? 'Cause I'm still wondering what's the best way to tie a shoelace.