Varietats: How We Remember by J.M. Monaco

The blood ties that have kept Jo and her brother Dave together are challenged when an unexpected inheritance fans the flames of underlying tensions. Upon discovering her mother s diary, the details of their family's troubled past are brought into sharp relief and painful memories are reawakened.

This had been a very emotive read, delicate and hard sometimes; because reading about the death of the parents is never easy, it makes you re-think your life, the love for your loved ones and it makes you remember your loved ones that are no longer on your side.

Jo O'Brien returns home when her mother starts the last stages of a terminal cancer, so between memories after she passes away, we will discover their relation, the relation between Jo and her family and a deep secret that she had been keeping from them for a long time.

I don't want to make any spoilers of this book, simply saying that is not an easy read, is hurtful, sad and complex at the same time. I can not say don't read it, because it is really well written, the characters feel real and I can assure you will perceive the emotions deep in your skin.

The title of the book has made me think about the memories I have with my mother, I am sure we would remember everything different, because that's what makes memories special and different one from the other, but sometimes remember things could be painful and dangerous; that's what Jo will have to face... Confronting the truth in her past or keep her memories in a closed door like she had been doing since today?

I am a fiction writer with a particular soft spot for North American fiction, probably because my formative and university years took place in the USA. While England has been my home for well over twenty years now, there’s something about the birthplace where my extended family and some friends still reside that has a strong pull. If I could, I’d spend solitary blocks of time there in a quiet lake cottage in the northeast pondering my ambiguous relationship with that landscape. I’d write up a tumultuous storm that may eventually take the shape of a draft for a novel or multiple stories, then come back to the UK where I could clean it all up in edits with my husband and children surrounding me with love and endless offers of tea and healthy meals. As this can only happen in fantasy, here in the southwest of England, UK, is where I stay, holed up in a drafty north-facing study/writing room, often gazing out at the rain and rolling my eyes when I hear my daughter shout, ‘What’s for supper tonight?’ Reading, thinking, writing, are all interrupted with the demands of others, the good and bad, life’s routines, a bit of excitement here and there mixed with the mundane. This is where stories are born. Oh, but wouldn’t it be heaven to have that nice little place by the lake.

How We Remember by J.M. Monaco - Blog Tour