Betty: A novel by Tiffany McDaniel (English) Paperback Book

Description: Betty by Tiffany McDaniel A "novel set in the rolling foothills of the Appalachians about a young girl and the family truths that will haunt her for the rest of her life"--Provided by publisher. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description A stunning, lyrical novel set in the rolling foothills of the Appalachians about a young girl and the family truths that will haunt her for the rest of her life. "A girl comes of age against the knife."So begins the story of Betty Carpenter. Born in a bathtub in 1954 to a white mother and a Cherokee father, Betty is the sixth of eight siblings. The world they inhabit in the rural town of Breathed, Ohio, is one of poverty and violence—both from outside the family and, devastatingly, from within. But despite the hardships she faces, Betty is resilient. Her curiosity about the natural world, her fierce love for her sisters, and her fathers brilliant stories are kindling for the fire of her own imagination, and in the face of all to which she bears witness, Betty discovers an escape: she begins to write. Inspired by generations of her family, Tiffany McDaniel sets out to free the past by delivering this heartbreaking yet magical story—a remarkable novel that establishes her as one of the most important voices in American fiction. Author Biography TIFFANY McDANIEL is a novelist, poet, and visual artist born and raised in Ohio. She is the author of The Summer That Melted Everything. Review NAUTILUS BOOK AWARD WINNER • THE SOCIETY OF MIDLAND AUTHORS AWARD WINNER • OHIOANA LIBRARY READERS CHOICE AWARDS WINNER • FRIENDS OF AMERICAN WRITERS CHICAGO WINNER • LONGLISTED FOR THE DUBLIN LITERARY AWARD"Innovative . . . devastating. . . . A brilliant, expansive exploration of family and grief." —The Guardian"The book is rich with the texture of everyday living. Its these details that sing Betty to life and bring readers fully into the Appalachian landscape and the social milieu of Breathed." —The Los Angeles Times "Breathtaking." —Vogue "Prepare to be undone. . . . This is one of those rare books . . . that is so stunning, so beautiful, so piercing, you could never forget it. . . . Wow, wow, wow." —Goop "Sumptuous and intimate." —O, The Oprah Magazine"This book will break your heart open, in the best way." —Good Housekeeping"A traditional beach read this is not — unless your idea of a beach read involves ugly sobbing for a few hundred pages. But [Betty] is so beautiful you wont care about the tears." —Entertainment Weekly"Gorgeous. . . . A plaintive coming of age narrative." —Glamour "Fierce, vividly realized." —The Columbus Dispatch "Members of this hardscrabble family stride through their Ohio community like minor gods, leaving amazement in their wake. Highly recommended; a coming-of-age novel that is a treat for lovers of stylistic prose." —Library Journal"Epic, lyrical . . . McDaniels sophomore work is a sweeping and heart-wrenching exploration of how we understand our parents lives and how our children will one day understand our own." —Booklist (starred review) Review Quote An Indie Next "Great Read for September" O Magazine s "Best Books to Pick Up Before Summer Ends" Entertainment Weekly s "20 Late-Summer Must-Reads for August" E! Onlines "17 Books to Check Out Before the End of Summer" Sheerluxes "Six New Books to Read This August" Salons "Provocative Must-Reads for August" "The book is rich with the texture of everyday living. Its these details that sing Betty to life and bring readers fully into the Appalachian landscape and the social milieu of Breathed." --Ilana Masad, The Los Angeles Times "This book will break your heart open, in the best way." -- Good Housekeeping, Lizz Schumer "A traditional beach read this is not -- unless your idea of a beach read involves ugly sobbing for a few hundred pages. But [ Betty ] is so beautiful you wont care about the tears." -- Entertainment Weekly, "20 Late-Summer Must-Reads Coming in August" "Fierce, vividly realized . . . McDaniel doesnt shy away from depicting horrors, especially those that breed within a family . . . Bettys story is searingly hard to bear, but the rewards of getting to know her make up for her pain." --Margaret Quamme, The Columbus Dispatch "I felt consumed by the ambitious enormity and sadness of this book. Betty is about the power of words and the language it is written in rings with this. I loved it, you will love it." --Daisy Johnson, author of Sisters and Booker Prize finalist Everything Under "Tiffany McDaniel has given us a vivid and haunting portrait of the writer as a young girl. Betty Carpenter survives the brutality of her childhood through her fathers stories and his steadfast belief in her own. A novel of tragedy and trouble, poetry and power, not a story you will soon forget." --Karen Joy Fowler, New York Times bestselling author of The Jane Austen Book Club and the Man Booker Prize finalist We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves "I loved Betty : I fell for its strong characters and was moved by the story it portrayed. McDaniel deals with the passage of time with subtlety and skill and the descriptions of the rolling hills of Ohio were really beautiful." --Fiona Mozley, author of Booker Prize finalist Elmet "Magical, densely lyrical and often disturbing. Tiffany McDaniel follows in the tradition of The Color Purple with her unflinching portrayal of the generational ripples of racism, poverty, and abuse. Shot through with moonshine, Bible verses, and folklore, Betty is about the cruelty we inflict on one another, the beauty we still manage to find, and the stories we tell in order to survive." --Eowyn Ivey, New York Times bestselling author of To the Bright Edge of the World and the Pulitzer Prize finalist The Snow Child "This novel broke my brain. The lush, hypnotic prose, the voice, so authentic and compelling, as Betty Carpenter holds your hand and leads you through a world filled with familial tragedy. Each more haunting than the last, until youre left holding your breath, with a tourniquet on your heart. This is powerful, relentless storytelling at its best." --Jamie Ford, New York Times bestselling author of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet and Love and Other Consolation Prizes " Betty is Betty Carpenters gripping coming of age story and is bold, inventive and profoundly moving. It is not a story blind to the characters abuse, but also reveals the love, sweetness, and magic in her life. Betty is too brown, too female and too poor for the world, but her story reminds us that despite all obstacles there are those blessed times when we can still manage to find our voices and sing. A triumph!" --Stephanie Powell Watts, bestselling author of N o One Is Coming to Save Us and We Are Taking Only What We Need "A painful, powerful, transcendent story . . . Tiffany McDaniels distinctive, poetic prose lets us know at the outset that something unique is going on in these pages. Bit by bit, she draws us into her other world with amazing skill; and, before we realize it, we are like wide-eyed children, enthralled as we once were, as we listened to a story from Grimms Fairy Tales. Yet, this is no fairytale for children. Rather, it is an intricate, complex mosaic of myths that explores the ways in which the imagination can bring hope into our lives during difficult times. With her depth as a poet and her boldness as a storyteller, the author has created an unforgettable novel. It stays in our imagination, long after weve read the last word." --Gwyn Hyman Rubio, New York Times bestselling author of Icy Sparks , The Woodmans Daughter , and Love & Ordinary Creatures "Tiffany McDaniel gives voice to those on the fringes. Betty is a coming-of-age novel that has the courage to look into the darkness and to find the light. Betty Carpenter tells the story of her family with empathy and passion and heart. This is a book for anyone whos ever stood on the outside looking in, or for anyone whos ever scorned the unfortunate. Its a book for our uncertain times, one that has much to show us about family, about want, about love." --Lee Martin, author of the Pulitzer Prize finalist The Bright Forever "So engrossing! Tiffany McDaniels Betty is a page-turning Appalachian coming-of-age story steeped in Cherokee history, told in undulating prose that settles right into you." --Naoise Dolan, author of Exciting Times "Epic, lyrical . . . McDaniels sophomore work is a sweeping and heart-wrenching exploration of how we understand our parents lives and how our children will one day understand our own." -- Booklist , starred Excerpt from Book 3 Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden. --Song of Solomon 4:16 Ozark, Arkansas. A place of deep green wilderness on the edge of mountains. It is where I was born and where we returned to after Lint came into the world. We lived in a small house Dad had partially built on a concrete foundation. The walls were not yet up, so the insulation showed while tarp hung from the unfinished roof. In between building the house, Dad sold moonshine and worked underground like a mole along with the other coal miners. The only one of us kids not living at home was Leland. He was twenty by then and had already been gone two years after enlisting in the army at eighteen. He was currently stationed in Korea. He would write letters to Mom and Dad. Leland never wrote about anything related to the army or the reasons he was stationed in any particular place. He would write about things that made it seem like he was on a trip. I did some fishing the other day, he wrote. I used a Korean fishing pole. Its called a gyeonji. Caught a fish that looked like one of the bass back home. In his own letters, Dad would update Leland on where we were. In Arkansas now, Dad wrote in his sideways cursive. Lots of blue sage and coneflowers. I dont see much of it. Underground, there is only rock and crust. Thats what I get for being a miner. The mines were not near to our house, so Dad would take the train and stay in a tent outside to save on expense. Days would go by before wed hear from him again. The afternoon he called, I was on my belly on the plywood floor. Scattered around me were crayons Dad had molded out of beeswax and tinted with things like coffee or blackberries. When the phone started to ring, I picked up the red crayon and continued writing. "Jesus Crimson. Get the goddamn phone, Betty." Moms voice came from the kitchen. I grabbed the receiver. "I was writin," I said to whoever was on the line before I even said hello. "Youve interrupted me." "Betty?" "Oh, hi, Dad. Im writin a story about a cat. The cat has a tail made of violets. Ive made the violets red because you never remember theyre purple. Its the tail that eats the mice, not the cat itself. Aint that somethin? Ive never seen a cats tail eat mice. Its always the mouth, but I dont see why it cant be the tail that eats the mice as long as the tail has teeth." When I stopped to take a breath, Dad took the opportunity to ask where Mom was. "Shes in the kitchen with Lint," I said. "Go get her. I need her to come pick me up from the mines." His voice was unusually tight, like wound-up wire. "Why aintcha ridin the train back?" I asked. "Its not runnin until late tonight. Now go get your momma. Theyre about to let the mine monster out. You dont want the monster to eat your dear ol dad, do ya?" I hollered to Mom that Dad was on the phone. Once I heard her coming, I slipped the red crayon into my pocket and ran outside. Trustin and Flossie were in the backyard using sticks as guns to shoot one another, while Fraya sat on the grass chewing on a dandelion. Pretending I would turn to stone if any of them saw me, I snuck out to our Rambler station wagon parked in the yard. I made sure to slap the raccoon tail hanging from the cars antenna like I did every time for luck. Quietly, I climbed up on the bumper and crawled through the open tailgate window. I hid beneath some blankets and waited. I didnt make a sound as Mom came out of the house, letting the screen door slam after her. She had her tatty frame purse open under her arm and was using her free hands to undo a bobby pin to hold the blondest side of her hair back. "Fraya?" Moms voice was a harsh shout. Fraya quickly got up and ran around to the front. She stopped halfway up the porch steps, her bare feet overlapping. "Yes, Mom?" Fraya asked. "Watch Lint." Mom pulled her purse out from under her arm and snapped it shut. "Hes in the kitchen. If he starts cryin, show im a rock. I have to go pick up your father. Jesus Crimson. If its not one thing with him, its another." Fraya walked sideways up the steps, giving Mom room to pass. "Now, I dont wanna come back and hear Lint callin you Momma again," Mom told Fraya. "Understand me, girl?" "He does it on his own." Fraya looked down. "I dont teach im to say it or nothin." "Dont you act all innocent with me. I know what you been doin. The way you cradle im and call im baby. You best straighten up and start actin like a damn sister. Yhear me, girl? Youre fifteen now and I still gotta keep after you like you was four." Fraya kept her eyes down as she nodded and walked up the rest of the stairs. "I might as well count this day ruined," Mom said as she got into the car. She tossed her purse to the dash and rubbed her hands before putting the key into the ignition. After three tries, the engine started. Mom took a sharp turn in the yard to pull out onto the dirt road. "The man dont think I got anything else to do," she spoke aloud to herself, gripping the steering wheel with one hand, only to slap it with her other. "Never mind the wash and the dishes and the raisin of his children. Naaaaw. I got all the time in the world to be on the road." She turned on the radio. About midway through a song, she started to sing along. Hers was a voice that if you heard it you would say, "Gee, I bet shes a swell mother." As we got closer to the mines, I covered my ears from the noise of the trucks rolling past. Mom turned off the radio and slowed the car as she made the turn into the office lot. I planned to pop out and surprise Dad, but when I peeked from beneath the blankets to look out the window, I was frightened by what I saw approaching. "The mine monster," I whispered to myself. His skin was black from coal dust. He was limping, dragging his right leg behind him. I knew he was in pain from the way he leaned forward, his arm resting against his stomach as if his ribs were done in. His bottom lip was cut open and there was a deep gash above his left brow. Though the injuries were fresh, it was hard to believe the blood and hurt werent things hed always been. I wondered why he was coming toward us, but as he got closer, I could see his eyes. I realized the bent man was not the mine monster. He was my father. "What in the world?" Mom put the car in neutral and engaged the emergency brake with a quick jerk. She was about to open her door, but Dad waved for her to stay inside. "Cmon, Landon." Her eyes darted around her, reminding me of a deer in an open field. Dad cradled his stomach as he lurched forward. I could tell his ribs hurt. I had seen my father blackened by coal before, but this time, the color seemed to be layered. There were streaks on his left cheek where the layers had been smeared. I looked at his forehead. Someone had dragged a wet finger through the coal and written a word. Id heard others call my father that word before. I mouthed it at the same time Mom said it aloud in a hushed whisper as she, too, stared at his forehead. I sank my teeth into the blanket so I wouldnt scream. How dare they do this to him, I thought. Didnt they know who my dad was? He was a man who knew to plant a seed as deep as the second knuckle on your finger. And he knew never to stand corn so close. "Makes for weaker stalks," hed say. "The ears will be smaller. The kernels not as full." Didnt they know this about him? That he was the wisest man in the whole damn county? Possibly the whole world? I hid deeper beneath the blankets and listened to Dad groan as he lowered himself onto the front seat, keeping his right leg out. "They smashed my knee like it was glass," he said as he lifted his leg into the car. Mom was trying to get him to close his door faster. "Cmon," she said. "Hurry up before they come to finish the job." Once he was inside the car, she quickly put it in gear. She drove a stick better than most, but her nerves caused her to pop the clutch. The car lunged forward, pressing me up against the back of the seat as the engine stalled. "Easy now, Alka. Easy." Dad tried to keep his voice from shaking. "Were okay. Start her up again." "Oh, Jesus Crimson, lock your door." Her voice came out high-pitched as she turned the key, praying for the engine to start. When it did, she thanked God. She forced herself to lift her foot slowly from the clutch. "Thatta girl." Dad looked out his window at the men staring at us. The men were black from the coal, too, but when they removed their goggles, I could see the white skin around their eyes. "Lets leave this empty place," Dad said. Mom drove fast, stirring up dust with our wheels. When she made the turn onto the main road, she took it so sharply, I thought we were going to flip over. "Not so fast, A Details ISBN1984897942 Short Title Betty Language English Year 2021 ISBN-10 1984897942 ISBN-13 9781984897947 Format Paperback Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2021-07-13 NZ Release Date 2021-07-13 US Release Date 2021-07-13 Place of Publication New York Illustrations 1 PHOTO IN TEXT Publication Date 2021-07-13 UK Release Date 2021-07-13 Author Tiffany McDaniel Pages 496 Publisher Random House USA Inc Imprint Vintage Books Subtitle A novel DEWEY 813.6 Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:151615469;

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