In Ruth's Journey: The Authorized Novel of Mammy from Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind, Donald McCaig (Rhett Butler's People) tells the full story of Scarlett's beloved nursemaid. He begins in France with Miss Solange, a wealthy heiress who travels to Saint-Domingue (now Haiti). There she takes in a local child to be part servant, part daughter, and names her Ruth, then moves to Savannah. Switching focus to Ruth, McCaig details her eventual brief marriage to a free man in Charleston, years of tragedy and rebellion, and her return to Savannah.

Though McCaig does touch a bit on Scarlett's well-known story, the bulk of the narrative is focused on Ruth's early life: the voyage to the U.S., her transition to adulthood, her loves and losses, and the moment she deliberately gives up her name and identity in favor of a new moniker: Mammy. Miss Solange has a daughter, Ellen, who in turn gives birth to the memorable Katie Scarlett O'Hara. Where Scarlett is petulant, Mammy is resilient. Through decades of love, death and betrayal, she consciously puts on a smile. She is cursed to foresee the ugly futures of those she cares for, but, as she repeats to herself, it is not for mammies to speak all that they see.

McCaig echoes the saucy, tongue-in-cheek tone of Mitchell's classic. Mammy's story is complex, and she commands respect. Lovers of Gone with the Wind will be the most obvious fans of Ruth's Journey, but it stands on its own merits as a sweeping epic of time, place and history, thoroughly worthy of its inspiration. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

The two protagonists in Bill Roorbach's The Remedy for Love are strong enough to sustain the edge-of-your seat atmosphere, but the snowstorm rolling into Maine becomes a third party, and a doozy of a character. As in his Life Among Giants, Roorbach slowly unveils his characters' backgrounds to build suspense.

Although he's a struggling lawyer in a backwoods town, Eric can't stifle his chivalry when the seemingly homeless customer in front of him in the grocery line can't pay. It's a clear night, but the Storm of the Century is forecast, so he supplements her cash and then offers her a ride. His long-anticipated reunion with his estranged wife is hours away, so he has time. The crusty and skeptical Danielle reluctantly accepts his help, letting Eric carry her bags down the incline to her cabin as the desultory inaugural snowflakes become thick and heavy. The blizzard hits with a vengeance, stranding them in the crumbling cabin she's appropriated, and as they wait out the storm, they learn one another's stories, accept their codependency and try to survive.

Their situation becomes increasingly dire, but Danielle's defensiveness seldom mellows, and Eric swings from sympathy to ire. Forced proximity, cagey attitudes and a frigid setting make for some hilarity, and the basic goodness of the two mismatched housemates invites thoughtful dialogue and reflection. What drove this young woman to become a squatter in a lonely Maine forest? Is Eric's wife really coming back? Who rescues whom? In the end, for Eric and Danielle, the difficulty of facing the increasing snowdrifts is matched by the challenge of honestly confronting their own lives. --Cheryl Krocker McKeon, manager, Book Passage, San Francisco

An elegant masquerade ball in fin-de-siècle London provides the perfect occasion for Lady Emily Hargreaves to dazzle, dressed as the goddess Artemis, but the evening ends in chaos after a similarly costumed woman is found murdered. As Emily and her husband, Colin, investigate, they realize that the dead woman, Mary Darby, was posing as heiress Estella Lamar, who is ostensibly traveling the world. No one has actually seen Estella for years, apart from some blurry newspaper photos taken in various exotic locations. Why would anyone pose as Estella? Did the killer mean to murder the heiress or the impostor? And is the real Estella still alive?

In her ninth Lady Emily novel, Tasha Alexander (Behind the Shattered Glass) weaves a compelling double mystery, alternating between Emily's attempts to solve Mary's murder in 1897 and Estella's story in Paris several decades earlier. After the death of her parents, Estella was left with a sizable fortune but few friends. Shy and socially awkward, she gradually withdrew from society--but an unwise business investment might have led to more than financial loss for her.

The return of familiar series characters, including Emily's Parisian friend Cécile du Lac (Estella's childhood friend) and the lazy dandy Jeremy Bainbridge, will delight longtime readers, but Alexander provides enough background to give new readers a sense of Emily's history. Witty, well-plotted and rich with historical detail, The Counterfeit Heiress is an engaging chapter in Lady Emily's story and an evocative glimpse into Victorian London. --Katie Noah Gibson, blogger at Cakes, Tea and Dreams

In her debut, Paddlenorth, radio producer and naturalist Jennifer Kingsley describes herself as a prickly person. Like many with a slightly cantankerous disposition, Jennifer found refuge in the space and freedom of the great outdoors. She had already made many treks into the Canadian wilderness, but in 2005 she and five friends undertook their most ambitious trip yet: a 54-day canoe journey through the stark Canadian tundra, following the Back River to its source in the Arctic Ocean.

With three canoes, a small mountain of supplies and amazing boldness, they said goodbye to their friends and family and headed into the unknown. Over the next two months they encountered dangerous rapids, ice-choked rivers and brutally cold winds. They endured agonizing swarms of mosquitos, excruciating blisters on their hands and feet, and an increasing sense of isolation from the outside world. In those 54 days, they spoke to a mere handful of people outside their group, forcing them to confront their own social and personal boundaries.

Kingsley beautifully describes the gorgeous, deadly tundra, with its herds of caribou and pervasive bugs; the Back River is practically a seventh member of her group. Each of the six friends must come to terms with the power of the river and the feelings that result from being isolated in such wilderness. The physical and emotional rawness of the trip is keenly felt in Kingsley's prose, leaving the reader to ponder the incredible toll such a journey would take. --Jessica Howard, blogger at Quirky Bookworm

Distinguished poet Stanley Plumly (Orphan Hours) turned his attention to the great poet John Keats a few years ago with his perceptive biography Posthumous Keats. He does so again, in a different context, with the thoroughly entertaining and captivating The Immortal Evening. Joining Keats this time are William Wordsworth, Charles Lamb and a few others, at an evening dinner (and supper) in northern London hosted by the once-well-known historical painter Benjamin Haydon. The gathering is to celebrate and honor the guests, who are prominently featured in Haydon's still unfinished, massive (13' x 15') painting Christ's Entry into Jerusalem.

Plumly sets the table for the immortal evening by detailing how far each guest had to walk to get there. Keats had the most ground to cover: three miles. The dinner party occurred on December 28, 1817, so each was bundled up, lanterns in hand. Much drinking occurred, and napping. But Plumly tricks us; this book is much more than a convivial recounting of good food and talk. It provides him the opportunity to range far and wide, discussing these men's careers--how they intertwined with one another--with Haydon's as the underlying narrative. Plumly also examines the times in which they lived, how they lived and their contemporaries: Percy Bysshe Shelley, William Hazlitt, Walter Scott, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Leigh Hunt.

Plumly's wise telling and silky prose are as comfortable and warm as these figures were at their dinner. If not immortal, Plumly's tour of this historic evening and age is more than memorable. --Tom Lavoie, former publisher

In Zoologies, a collection of essays on the relationship between humans and the natural world, poet Alison Hawthorne Deming (Rope) tackles questions about what separates humans from their feathered, four-legged and aquatic counterparts. Be they swans, hogs or whales, the answer appears to be very little.

Whether she's addressing endangered birds ("Owl Watching in the Experimental Forest") or ancient behemoths ("Murray Springs Mammoth"), Deming's essays poke and prod, unfurling a litany of questions that she doesn't always answer. In tales of extinction and endangerment, she charges her reader with taking part in the search for solutions, even when they're difficult--or nigh impossible--to envision.

In "The Pony, the Pig, and the Horse," she writes of the hardscrabble years in which she raised her daughter alone in rural Vermont. As she describes both the butchery of a family pig and her daughter's love for Traveler, a wily horse, Deming's awe and adoration for the beings that sustained them is evident. Like the best writers, she can balance two oppositional ideas simultaneously: the animal as food source and friend, inferior and equal.

In her essay "The Finback," about a dead, bloated whale that's washed ashore, Deming writes, "Perhaps something in me knows that if I can't stand the sight of what disgusts me, I haven't the strength to love anything in this difficult world." She challenges her readers to look harder, to take in realities both daunting and heartening, in the hope that humans can learn to value and protect biodiversity. Zoologies is more than a meditation--it's a call to arms. --Linnie Greene, freelance writer and bookseller at Flyleaf Books

Erin Beresini was a committed Ironman triathlete and endurance athlete facing overtraining injuries and burnout when she first heard about obstacle course racing (OCR). How silly, she thinks, and how divergent from her past efforts--perhaps just the thing to make new friends, find new motivation and relieve her overstressed muscles by working new ones. From her first mud run she is hooked, and gratifyingly exhausted. She jumps feet first into this bizarre new scene, undertaking a journey that culminates in racing the OCR world's first marathon-length event, the Spartan Ultra Beast. In Off Course, she documents her labors.

Throughout Beresini's often-funny personal story, she interjects details of the history and quirks of this recent trend in amateur athleticism. Characterized by mud, fire, ice and blood--and often involving broken bones, electric shocks, sadistic beatings and barbed wire--OCR strikes many as an insane way to chase fun and fitness. As it happens, millions have signed up for these events in recent years, in the United States and around the world. The sport draws "regimented military types and anti-organized sports rebels," and shares a fan base with CrossFit and endurance athletics. Beresini also scrutinizes the compelling personalities (and controversies) behind the sport's two main powerhouses, Spartan Race and Tough Mudder, as well as a handful of their participants. As weird as this tale is, it will appeal to both fans of sports narratives and readers who appreciate offbeat obsessions. --Julia Jenkins, librarian and blogger at pagesofjulia

Nature-poetry lovers can rejoice: Mary Oliver (Dog Songs) is once again in splendid form, this time with a slim, powerful collection of 39 poems centered on the natural world. She embraces the often-overlooked aspects of the flora and fauna that surround her and invites readers to sit and contemplate what it means to be part of one's environment.

In "After Reading Lucretius, I Go to the Pond," she eloquently describes the connection she feels to the Earth and its creatures as she writes, "The slippery green frog/ that went to his death/ in the heron's pink throat/ was my small brother/ and the heron/ with the white plumes/ like a crown on his head/ who is washing now his great sword-beak/ in the shining pond/ is my tall thin brother." In addition to studying many animals and birds, Oliver turns her gaze to the silence of the forest, the beauty of beach stones laid in a bowl of water and the invigorating clamor of a river as it pours timelessly over a course of rocks. Beyond these images of nature, Oliver also examines what it means to be in love, her attempts at learning yoga and what people really want from a poem ("they want something/ inexplicable/ made plain,/ easy to swallow").

Oliver is able to make the abstract concrete in such an enjoyable manner that readers are never left wondering what she means by her words. At her finest, she leaves readers of her poetry with the feeling that they've been touched by grace. --Lee E. Cart, freelance writer and book reviewer

William Joyce (The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore) and debut picture-book artist Kenny Callicutt collaborate on an energetic retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk. From "Once upon a time," when the smallish green bean is introduced, they retell the story in a contemporary tone, with plenty of asides for both adults and children to enjoy.

Jack lives in a kingdom suffering from a drought ("the crops dried up. And the wells dried up, and the rivers and the lakes and the moats and the birdbaths"). The king's pinky has become stinky, so he forces his subjects to cry in order to produce enough tears to wash it. This embarrasses his daughter, so she visits the kingdom's wizard and pleads for help. Once the wizard gets going, magical things begin to happen....

The imprint of Moonbot Studios (where Joyce and Callicutt collaborate) shines throughout this book. Double-page spreads propel the story as the illustrations jump off the page. When the bean finally grows to a beanstalk, readers young and old alike will delight in the sudden explosion. The plumbing high above the clouds invites readers to trace the path water might travel.

A red-headed black bird appears on every page, and Joyce and Callicutt code speech bubbles specific to each character: Bean's are leaf-shaped, and Jack's resemble a combination of his shepherd's crook and a lamb's wooly coat. This sense of detail, combined with signature artwork, sly wit and a familiar story, make this picture book one to read over and over. --Cathy Berner, Blue Willow Bookshop, Houston, Tex.

In this funny, deadpan adventure from the team behind Extra Yarn, two boys and their dog set out to dig a hole and wind up in a place they'd never expected.

Two boys walk out from a porch where a red tulip blooms, while their pet cat, wearing a red collar, stays behind. A rooster-shaped weather vane points in the direction in which they're headed. Their brown spotted pooch leads the way. They pause near an apple tree: "On Monday Sam and Dave dug a hole." When the shoveling lands them waist-high in a hole, Sam wonders, "When should we stop digging?" Dave answers, "We won't stop digging until we find something spectacular." A cutaway view reveals a perfectly diamond-shaped pink gem hidden in the ground beneath the apple tree. Later, the dog digs downward toward a larger diamond, now less than a foot beneath them. But Dave thinks, "we should dig in another direction." Mac Barnett's deadpan text will have children yelling, "No, no, dig down!" Yet Sam agrees, "Yes.... That is a good idea." This vaudevillian line of dialogue continues as Dave suggests they split up. Each time, Jon Klassen reveals more of the steadily escalating joke.

As the dog closes in on a prize, the world turns topsy-turvy. "Sam and Dave fell down,/ down,/ down...." The dog may be the only one with buried treasure, but the boys have certainly experienced something spectacular. But wait, look carefully at that cat, that porch, that tree in the yard. The boys' lives are forever changed by their adventure. --Jennifer M. Brown, children's editor, Shelf Awareness