I’m left utterly breathless. What an immense story contained within a singular family. I don’t know if there’s a way to adequately prepare someone to go into this novel, but here I’ll do my best.

“You know what the heaviest thing in the world is, Betty?”

This book was the quiet before the storm, and then it was the storm itself. Tiffany McDaniel‘s writing is exquisite. There’s a way that authors-who-are-also-poets write that’s almost immediately identifiable. It felt like every other line contained something that I want to scribble down and store away for later. But as soon as I found myself falling into a rhythm, the song quickly shifted into a new movement, and I was thrown off the beat. As easily as she can sweep you away, McDaniel can yank you suddenly back into your body.

Betty follows the life of Betty Carpenter and her family as she grows up in the fictional town of Breathed, Ohio. Her father, Landon, is Cherokee and her mother, Alka is white. Every significant moment in their lives from the time the two of them meet until the final pages of the book is documented by their youngest daughter, Betty, as she learns about who she is and what her place is in the world. Most of these lessons are hard, made harder by the time and location she resides in. But they are also made easier by the fortifying nature of some of her family members and ancestors.

This is not a story of family drama but one of family trauma. It’s also the story of all the beautiful things that grow in the cracks between them. In the Carpenters, we watch as the scars of one generation are passed on to the next. It can be hard to reconcile when a person unloads that pain onto someone they’re supposed to love unconditionally. Can you forgive someone that’s tried to drag you down with them, if they thought it was the only way they could keep from drowning? Can any amount of understanding make it okay? It will never be okay.

Parts of this book were devastating. Other parts were enchanting. I don’t want to giveaway any plot, but I also don’t want someone to go in entirely blind. Give yourself the emotional space to fully immerse yourself in the story. There is grief and there is joy. There are storms and there is solace. There are beginnings and there are endings. We can’t choose what we inherit or from who, but we do have some say in what we do with it.

Betty Carpenter is the daughter of a Cherokee father and a white mother and one of eight siblings. She was especially close to her father and loved the tales he told about their heritage. Her family, which faced many injustices such as racism and poverty, causes her to see abuse and experience loss both inside and outside of the family. Those events are extremely traumatizing and throughout it all she remains resilient.

This dark beautifully written slow burn story had beautiful characters that jumped off the page. The reader sees the main character’s strength as she manages the most difficult moments

I was honored when the author reached out to me and provided me with an ARC to review. After reading the synopsis, I was immediately interested in the story, especially since it is based on the author's mother's (Betty) life. Within a few pages, I realized how talented of a writer McDaniel is. Her prose is gorgeous and lyrical and memorable. Every word choice is thoughtful- while the setting and characters are thoroughly described and are so vivid that I felt that I had walked into Betty's world, the amount of description never felt extraneous or excessive. Each of the characters was given the attention they deserved and I felt that I was able to understand them through Betty's eyes.

There were many things that I loved about Betty (the novel and the person). But when I finished reading, the thing that has stuck in my mind the most is Betty's resiliency. Despite the losses, difficulties and heartbreaks, Betty perseveres and moves forward. She still sees the world as a beautiful and magical place, even when its cruelty and violence threaten to tear her apart. Her spirit and her love for her family are what sets her story apart and why I am so glad that this story was shared with all of us through her daughter Tiffany.

Betty was haunting, beautifully written and emotional and a story that I will not forget

Betty is not a title for the faint of heart. Trigger tags are a necessity when recommending this powerful narrative about race, poverty, familial abuse, and the power of narrative. That said, this title has exceptional literary merit and is worth examining time and again.
Born in a bathtub, the daughter of a Cherokee father and white mother, Betty is a born writer. While her large family shifts from town to town, the constant is the stories her father weaves into every facet of the family’s life. Her father’s stories are urgent, his interpretation of the world through these stories demand to be believed and he instills this in Betty.
When Betty begins to experience and discover the inequities of the world and abuse within her family, the only way to heal and comprehend is through writing her own narrative.
This is a powerful and imaginative book. Well worth the read.

Thank you to the author for providing me with an e-ARC of Betty in exchange for an honest review.

Content Warnings: Racism, Animal Death, Homophobia, Self-mutilation, Abortion, Suicide, Rape, Child Molestation, Child Death, Drug Overdose

As can be seen in the content warnings, Betty by Tiffany McDaniel is an extremely heavy read. None of the warnings from the author & other readers could have warned me enough when it came to this heart-wrenching journey. In the mood to cry? Betty might be for you.

I have heard nothing but good things when it comes to McDaniel’s debut, The Summer that Melted Everything. I have yet to read it, but trust me, it skyrocketed to the top of my TBR after reading Betty. The author knows exactly how to piece together words in order to create a beautifully crafted story. A word artist, if I do say so myself.

I realized then that not only did Dad need us to believe his stories, we needed to believe them as well.


Betty was born to a Cherokee father and a white mother, along with her seven other siblings. The Carpenters not only live with the struggle of poverty but are often faced with racism, loss, and so many other tribulations. Betty’s father, Landon, stands as a backbone to the Carpenter family & often shares stories — these stories often providing inspiration or strength for his loved ones.

Tiffany McDaniel came to me with Betty knowing that I was a horror fan & would probably be able to stomach what occurs in this novel; seeing as I’ve read some dark things in my time. & yes, I was able to handle the content. However, Betty was a reminder that real-life and humanity is much scarier than anything most horror authors write.

With almost every chapter, my mouth would fall open in shock and I had to treat myself to multiple self-care breaks. This review is not to scare you away from picking up Betty, but instead to let you know that you’ll most likely leave this book with a lot of emotions. And quite honestly, any author that can have that much of an impact is doing a Hell of a job.

Betty deserves all of the praise; the writing is mesmerizing & the story will stick with you long after you put it down.

Tiffany McDaniel’s incredible novel Betty broke me. It’s the coming-of-age story of Betty Carpenter. Born in a bathtub in 1954, Betty, the sixth of eight children, was raised for most of her life in the foothills of the Ohio Appalachians. Her father Landon Carpenter is a proud Cherokee married to her mother, Alka Lark, who is white. While her siblings look more like her mother, Betty is most like her father with dark skin.

The family is poor but Landon provides his children with inventive storytelling rooted in Cherokee myths and legends. From blazing stars to a bird living in a glass heart, the stories are magical. Betty develops a creative mind and becomes a storyteller in her own right. The support and love, especially from her father, does not prepare Betty for the hatred she faces once she enters school. Betty experiences racial hatred not only from the other children but from the faculty. While her mother tells Betty that she is not pretty like her sisters, it is the sweet and wonderful relationship with her father that keeps Betty strong and believing in herself.

Betty comes to learn the truth of generational abuse hidden within her own family shaking her entire foundation. It is way too much for a child to deal with this type of trauma and it’s very hard to read about it.

Betty is based on the author’s mother Betty and her family which makes the story even more heartbreaking. The writing is stunning and lyrical. I kept noting favorite passages when I realized almost every word in this book is worth savoring. It is rare for a book to stir up so much emotion. I highly recommend it but there are some upsetting passages that might be too much for some.

I am so glad that the author reached out to me to read Betty in advance of its publication. Thank you, thank you Tiffany McDaniel. And thanks to Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group and NetGalley.

Every once in a great while, a book will come along that blows me out of the water and delivers a solid punch to my gut – Betty is one of those books. Simply put, this is really a 10-star read and has bumped itself up into my top 5 reads of all time.

“A girl comes of age against the knife. She must learn to bear its blade. To be cut. To bleed. To scar over and still, somehow, be beautiful and with good enough knees to take the sponge to the kitchen floor every Saturday.”

So begins the story of Betty Carpenter, a girl born of a white woman and a Cherokee man. She is the youngest girl and the only one of her six living siblings that strongly resembles her father. The majority of the novel takes place during the 1960’s in the fictional, southern Ohio town of Breathed and follows Betty from the time she is seven until she is eighteen. Betty has been raised on the stories of her father’s people and the strength she inherits from powerful Cherokee women; likewise, she has been raised on the stories of her mother’s people and the the abuse her mother suffered at the hands of her family. The dichotomy of these truths allows Betty to see the horrors that are happening within her own family and surroundings.

While Betty encapsulates the sense of time and place with McDaniel’s understanding of certain rural truths: mental illness was not a topic to be discussed and women being inferior to men, chief among them; She presents these truths in a manner that allows us to recognize that time has not erased these problems. The curtains may have changed, but they still cover the same old dirty windows.

It should be said that Betty is not a horror novel, but rather a literary novel with horrific elements. It is beautiful, tragic, and gritty enough to surpass the works of Cormac McCarthy, Daniel Woodrell, or Stuart O’Nan. McDaniel handles topics of discrimination, racism, sexism, abuse, incest, and cruelty with a deft hand. She commands attention with her lyrical prose, vivid imagery, and powerful use of metaphors; she paints over all this with a watercolor layer of magical realism that both softens and hardens truths at their edges.

Betty is a tough read, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. There were moments where I had to walk away for a little while and come back to the book the next day. The reality that Betty endures would have broken me – she is a far stronger woman than I am. Having said that, the moments of beauty and strength are more powerful than the enduring tragedy of the Carpenter family. There are passages and images in my mind that will stay with me forever. If you read one book this year, please, read Betty.

"The thing about Breathed is that she gives you both the ripe fruit and the rotted in the very same bite."

Betty is not for the faint of heart. I think it broke a bit of my soul and kept the pieces for itself. McDaniel's writing is as hauntingly poetic as it is devastating in the way it weaves such layered and complex commentary into a disturbing story. While her previous work reminded me of The Crucible and Invisible Man, this one was reportedly inspired by the life of the author's mother and was more reminiscent of The Bluest Eye with undertones of Virginia Woolf's more contemplative essays in its rhythmic lyricism.

In 1954, Betty Carpenter was born half-Cherokee into a family full of holes and a world made for heartache with words bursting out of her skin. Her mother was a haunted house and her father was doing his best to keep a fire in the hearth and the roof from caving in. Despite being dirt poor, he worked to keep food the mouths of his their children and to nourish their souls with stories of their heritage. Betty listened the best, she looked to her father's stories to help the harsh world around her make sense and let his tales give inspiration to her own as she journeyed from childhood into adulthood.

This story hit me differently than The Summer That Melted Everything. While they are both exemplary pieces of heavy-hitting literary examination of the human condition, I couldn't devour this one as quick and constant as I did the other, not because it wasn't just as good-- it was--but in different ways. This book was mentally and emotionally exhausting for me. The sheer pain and sorrow exhibited in the pages pushed me to the very edge of my breaking point many times, going as far as to consider whether or not my heart could take another word, only to have the next paragraph offer the smallest glimpse of hope that was so raw in its beauty that it made me keep going. Hurt and grief and sickening devastation haunt this story, but so do love, laughter, and triumph. The good chases the bad until the bad circles back... but which one will catch Betty?

A very lyrically written coming of age novel that often times reads like a memoir. Tiffany McDaniel took inspiration for writing Betty from the story of her mother’s life. The daughter of a Cherokee father and a white mother living in the mid 1950s, Betty’s life is filled with tragedy and loss.

This was such a hard book for me to finish. Reading Betty left me emotionally and physically drained. It’s not an easy read, it’s a story that is filled with tragic events and loss surrounding a numerous family struggling to survive in America in the mid 50s. The book does an incredible job in painting the rural life of a family at the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains struggling to keep their Cherokee roots and traditions in a society filled with racism and discrimination. We can see the struggles especially from Betty and her father, Landon, whom are constantly ostracized for their ways of thinking and acting. What I loved about Landon was how much he refused to let go of his culture and how much he tried to instill pride of his roots in his daughter Betty, whom, because she takes after her father so much, is the one who suffers from racism the most, even from her own family members.

Like I said, a hard book to read most of the times because nothing ever seems to go well for our characters, especially for Betty. There is no respite for any of these family members. I kept waiting for the silver lining of the story but as the pages went on the darker they got. I don’t know if this is one of those books where you take something out of the story or you are left with a feeling of content. It’s one of those experiences you wish you didn’t have to go through, just like you wish the things happening to the characters weren’t things that occured in our real world to so many people. The racism suffered by Betty and her father for their Cherokee blood, the intergenerational trauma, the constant violence against the women of this family by men who were supposed to care for them and protect them, and the unjust treatment from society against anyone who broke the mold or was different from the ‘american stereotype’ are some of the things that Betty sheds a light on.

Tiffany McDaniel writing strength is clearly her purple prose filled with visual imagery. Telling the story of an entire generation and bringing each single character to life with such vibrant personalities is not an easy task, and yet McDaniel excelled in that department as well. I loved her debut novel ‘The Summer That Melted Everything’, so it’s no secret I’m a fan of her writing style but this book was hard for me to digest, suffocating at times, hence the rating. I wish we could have seen more of those joyful moments in Betty’s life or at least know that after those bleak last couple of chapters she went on to have a wonderous life, but the book ended without us readers being able to enjoy that pinch of happiness for a character whose life was filled with nothing but tragedy. And to finish this review off, I’d like to add another quote that as simple as it is, it strikes home for many of us:

‘You know what the heaviest thing in the world is, Betty? It’s a man on top of you when you don’t want him to be.’

Sometimes books come your way in the oddest of circumstances. Be it a friend mentioning they loved a book and sending you a second copy, or you see a book getting buzz and it's randomly in a Free Little Library as you walk by.

Or, in the case of 'Betty,' the author has reached out to a fellow reviewer due to geographical similarities. In this instance, Tiffany had reached out to my friend Miranda Crites, as Miranda lives in Appalachia. Unfortunately, Miranda was unable to get to it by release date, so she offered it to the KR team. I'd seen 'Betty' mentioned a few times, but when I read Edward Lorn's review, and then saw Laurie's (aka Barks) I knew I needed to review this.

Miranda emailed Tiffany, who emailed me and voila, review copy on the Kindle. But that wasn't just it. Tiffany and I exchanged a few emails back and forth, and wouldn't you know, we also shared a number of similarities about where we'd grown up. While my early years were in BC, Canada, geographically - with the mountains - it was all so similar.

What I liked: If a book can physically manifest dread through an electronic reading device, this is the book. 'Betty' reads like a non-fiction book, where details are told matter-of-factly while the story rumbles along. Autobiographical in nature, we follow along with a family often one page at a time.
McDaniel has created something special here. Characters that evoked emotions, We have it all here. Coming-of-age, grief, trauma, abuse. We get to see how the world around these characters causes such pain, but unlike novels that focus on a small chunk of time, we get to see how these small ripples from a specific day, form into waves over a lifetime.
Am I saying anything specific about this book right now? Yes and no. This is a book that is very hard to review with specifics, as it is a book told through a perspective like the game of dominoes. Once the first piece falls, everything comes tumbling after.
So, I will say this; Betty arrives to a white mother and a Cherokee father. A one night stand that ends up getting her beat by her father, who in turns gets beat by Landon, the Cherokee man. This sets the stage early for what the reader will be in for. The moments of beauty are often a cloud sitting at the edge of the storm front behind it.

What I didn't like: This book was a masterpiece. I struggle sometimes with books this well written. That may not make sense to some of you, but I was intimidated at times with how well written this was. I'm not a smart enough reader (or reviewer!) to fully verbalize what I'm trying to say, but there are moments in this book that are so crystal clear, perfect, you'll need to set it down, go back and reread it.

Why you should buy it: I've long wanted to take a crack at 'The Summer That Melted Everything,' as that book is always hailed as amazing. It wasn't until I started reading this that I put two and two together and realized it was the same author. Sad, I know! So, if you read that and loved it, I can't see how you wouldn't love this. It does take place in the same town, but I can't say whether any characters appear in both. McDaniel is an amazing author, that is evident from page one, but if you are looking for a captivating and emotionally devastating story, 'Betty' should be high on your list of books to read.

** This review will feature on Kendall Reviews! **

This coming-of-age story set in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains is both beautiful and heart-wrenching. Betty is a bright-minded and spirited young girl, born of a Cherokee father and white mother, whose story is filled with many moments of joy, cruelty, and heartbreak as we follow her and her family, The Carpenters, along their journey.

This was a book that I could not put down. It was a perfect mix of McDaniel’s beautiful writing and the characters that felt like they were truly brought to life on the page. You can tell that McDaniel put a lot of love into creating this work of literary fiction. Based on generations of her family and her mother’s life, there is an incredible amount of care put into each of the characters, even the ones that we may struggle to truly understand. I believe it shows a good picture of what it may be like to be apart of a large family with each member dealing with their own personal demons. McDaniel’s crafted a story that doesn’t shy away from the darker elements, of which they are plenty living and growing up in Appalachia during the time the story takes place, but also the complexities of being a woman in any age.

Betty is fierce as she comes into her own and navigates very difficult moments. The strength of the women and sisterhood in his novel was one of my favorite aspects of reading. Another would be the beautiful stories and Cherokee legends her father, Landon, shares with her throughout.

Betty was my first the first time reading McDaniel’s work, but it will not be my last. This novel is truly a work of a hart and the Carpenters will stay with me forever.


*Thank you so much Random House & Knopf, and most importantly, the author for reaching out to me for a review*

Easily the best book I've read so far this year. I will certainly be including it in a future Book Riot article.

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐰. 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲.

I loved Tiffany McDaniel’s debut novel 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, but I feverishly devoured 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺. Appalachian fiction, coming of age, family dysfunction, a father who knows the importance of holding on to the old ways, racism, abuse, rage and a little girl who sees a world laid bare in uncomprehendingly brutal ways- hell of a recipe! Betty is a tale of the shames we are not to name, within a family and within society. No matter the times we live in, people will always find ways to set themselves above others. For Betty, it is her “Indian” blood- a child born of a Cherokee father (Landon Carpenter) whom holds the stars of the sky in his hands, that is both curse and blessing. In this family of eight children, Betty is her daddy’s favorite- a daughter who listens to stories of their ancestors at his side and learns all the things man has forgotten about the natural world. A fiercely loving, devoted father and husband who fails her mother no matter how hard he tries, he never gives up. A man who is poor of pocket but rich in heart. The sad fact is that a family cannot live on love alone and Betty’s Mother (Alka) is worn out with birthing, mothering, and wanting more but nothing is worse than her remembering. Hoping that returning to her roots of Breathed, Ohio will find fate in their favor, Landon falls lower in her esteem when he lands them in a dump of a home. How could happiness roost in house that feels like it is already ‘𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭’?

Betty is never more free than with her hands in the soil of their garden, learning from her father who is an encyclopedia of plant knowledge, imparting natural remedies for every sort of woe. A father who reveres female power, teaches his girl to embrace her Cherokee ancestors and makes her little heart sing. But tinctures and teas that can heal can also infect, destroy life. If only mother and her brothers and sisters could be as charmed with his story-telling and skills as she then things would be joyous. Her siblings are as different as chalk and cheese. There is the first born son Leland who favors his mother in looks. First born daughter, the sweet-natured beauty Fraya, who mothers them all, is worshiped by no one more than Leland. Then came Yarrow of the strong grip, followed by Waconda named after a spring. Flossie was born for grand entrances who came before resilient Betty, herself birthed in a dry-claw foot bath tub. Trustin, the little swimmer born after Betty and lastly the youngest Lint, who has a mad passion for collecting rocks. Together they get up to wild antics, bully each other, share confidences, betray, fear, transgress, protect and prove that all sorts of fruit can grow on a family tree, rotten and sweet.

There is very dark subject matter that is hard to stomach, terrible wrongs Betty struggles to understand. Love is both salvation and a prison. The innocence of a child’s mind confuses the interactions between all the Carpenters. It’s easy to get lost in what we think we see. Coming of age, ones own body and sexuality feels forbidden and sinful. Then there is the town who reacts to them with bigotry, hypocrisy, and cruelty. No one sticks out more than Betty, with her dark skin and when her classmates spear her with ugly words, the teachers encourage it. The pride her father tries to instill in her for her Cherokee heritage is smeared outside of home. There is no amount of imaging nor escape that can wipe away such hate. Worse are her Mother’s own spirals. Alka’s poisonous family history haunts her and the children in moments of unspeakable violence. It seems the sky just wants to fall and for Betty to survive, she must hold it up. No one is safe, her siblings have their own disasters, and the winds of change spare none of them. There are endless battles of conscience and guilt when the children must protect the adults.

As Betty comes of age, her heart will break and she will discover it will take guts of steel to survive. She will embrace the duty of her own nature and confront her family history. We blame the blindness of others for everything that comes to pass but have to confront our own darkness. What will Betty learn when she steps away? What does loss teach about love? How do we wash away the sins of those who marred our souls?

This is brutal, chained as they are to a cycle of violence but it is also a story about deep, abiding love. The shaming of Betty for her poverty is a slap that stings long after time passes. People who were poor children never forget the humiliation and Betty’s reaction encompasses that shame perfectly. This entire novel is a visceral experience. I felt gut sick through much of the novel for everything that befalls the family. Tiffany McDaniel is an incredible author, it is a painful read… you are warned. Yes, read it!

Publication Date: August 18, 2020

Knopf

Doubleday Publishing

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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I've struggled with this one for days now and was tempted to say something like, "It's a Tiffany McDaniel book. This means the writing is gorgeous, the subject will provoke you, you will be moved. And did I mention it's wonderfully written?" But I knew I couldn't post that...it doesn't actually tell you anything about this book ("Tiffany McDaniel" and "gorgeous writing" is essentially a tautology) and since when do I express myself in twenty-seven words?

WHO'S BETTY ABOUT?
Yeah, I normally ask what a book is about, but the what is so unimportant in this book a reader could be excused for not remembering. You won't forget the who anytime soon. The who is what matters.

It's about a young, poor family's struggles between 1939 and 1973—with a focus on 1961-73 (when Betty was 7-19) when the family settles in Appalachian Ohio (and largely stays there). The father is of Cherokee descent (Tsa-la-gi. A-vn-da-di-s-di), the mother is white—and you can imagine how easy life was for them and their children in that time (harder for Betty who takes more after her Cherokee lineage, while her siblings favor their mother). While none of the children has an easy life, there's a greater degree of difficulty of Betty.

I could spend a good deal of time talking about various family members, but I'm going to focus on two of them.

LANDON CARPENTER (A.K.A. DAD)
When Landon Carpenter met Alka Lark, he was working as a gravedigger, he later worked at a clothespin factory—and then several other jobs, including a stint in a coal mine (which left him with a permanent limp due to a beating given by racists), while the family moved from state to state. When they settled in Breathed, Ohio*, he became known for selling moonshine, herbal remedies (based on "Cherokee wisdom" that was essentially what he happened to make up on the spot), and hand-crafting furniture.

* A fictional city that also served as the setting for The Summer that Melted Everything—one of several nods to that work included here.

But really, what he does with his time is father his children and try to take care of his wife. They don't all appreciate it, or understand what he's doing, but they're (largely) devoted anyway. He will be frequently found passing on a bit of received knowledge through myths or parable form. He wasn't ready to be a father when he became one and two decades later, he still wasn't entirely ready when Betty arrived (or her younger siblings, either), but he rises to the occasion as best as he can. I don't get the picture that he's the easiest guy to get to know or get along with for prolonged periods. But for those who do get to know him, he's clearly a loyal and supportive friend.

BETTY (A.K.A. "LITTLE INDIAN")
Either as a quirk of personality or because she's physically closer to her Cherokee heritage (likely a combination), Betty embraces the cultural lessons her father passes down more readily than her siblings do—and always wants more. She's naive, inquisitive, and somehow despite everything she witnesses innocent and optimistic (not precisely, but that's the best word I can come up with). Life hands her horrible experience after horrible experience, and while momentarily cowed, she comes back, wiser, but still innocent. Toward the end of the book, she has a couple of experiences (one thing she's told about, one thing she witnesses) that drive her to the breaking point—but even then she holds on for a little longer.

She's our Point of View character and doesn't understand everything that's going on around her for most of the book—things really kick off when she's seven, after all. So we see a lot of the book through unreliable eyes, but very reliable emotions and reactions. From the latter, we can get a good understanding of what's going on, better than she can.

THE MAGIC (FOR LACK OF A BETTER WORD)
In McDaniel's The Summer that Melted Everything, many things happen that may be supernatural or magical in origin, there's a semi-magical realism feel to it. That's not the case here. Nor is the source of the "magic" in this novel one mysterious stranger.

The power that keeps Dad and Betty—and the rest of the family—going comes from story. Dad's constantly telling stories to his children, Betty in particular—and, we learn, he even tells stories to his friends (I don't think Landon's wife has much patience for many such stories, as much as she needs them). Betty typically doesn't tell her stories to anyone, but she writes them down, filling notebooks with them. Some she keeps, some she buries (to preserve or to hid), some she gives away. By their use of story—sometimes use of words—Dad and betty keep themselves, and those around them, going. They inspire, encourage, and teach with them.

A story that Betty's mother tells her is arguably the most powerful story in the novel—and it explains more of the novel than anything else. Her story, is wholly true, and wholly heartbreaking, but even that comes down to the power of storytelling.

DRAWBACKS TO THE BOOK
I don't really want to label these as problems with the book, but there are a few things that keep me from being as enthusiastic about Betty as I was for The Summer that Melted Everything (which I am enthusiastic about to this day). I basically proselytized readers over that book, I won't go that overboard for this.

The first is that it took me far longer than it should have to get what McDaniel was trying to accomplish, I kept waiting for a plot to emerge, and there's never much of one by design. Instead, as I indicated above, this is about the characters. Growing, developing, faltering, stumbling, and retreating. It's about how they react to the events (or non-events) in their lives that matters, now the events themselves. It's entirely possible that this is all me and not the text. But I don't think that's the case (or I wouldn't have gone on about it).

Secondly, the non-Carpenter characters. With two notable exceptions (the town Doctor who comes running when they call; and a friend of Landon's who rents them the house they settle in. But the rest of the people (almost without exception), are simply horrible. Some of the Carpenters are okay, and most of them demonstrate growth (at least). But everyone else is horrible, blatantly so...so many people in authority of varying degrees are just horrible, spiteful, evil people. And it's just hard to read that. I firmly believe in man's inhumanity to man, but it's usually tempered, at least on the surface/occasionally, with something positive. We aren't given anything to look to and say, "Hey, there's someone decent", or "There's someone doing something decent. Spiteful, racist, ignorant, misogynous, capricious, and evil. Those are the words that come to mind as I think about the non-Carpenter characters, and it's just hard to read them.

SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT BETTY?
I started off liking it, and that feeling slowly grew. There weren't many moments that wow'ed me, but there were a handful that broke my heart. I sincerely want another 50 pages of the Dad's odd little myths (some of which, I'm pretty sure contradict themselves, which Betty sees and rolls with). I wanted to help Betty through her challenges, to at least shoulder some of her burden with her.

And did I mention the prose is fantastic?

That said, I don't think I connected with the characters (particularly those who aren't Dad or Betty) the way McDaniel wanted me to. I don't think there's enough going on to urge people to read this, but I will recommend it strongly. That said, I think I will be in the minority with this book and most readers won't understand my hesitation to rave over this. I do recommend this book, I do plan on re-reading it in a year or two, and I will be first in line for McDaniel's next book.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this. I also want to thank McDaniel for approaching me to let me know it was available for request. None of the above kept me from giving my honest opinion.

I said this about The Summer That Melted Everything and I’m going to say the exact same thing about Betty. “This story is cruel, it is bleak and it is beautifully descriptive and impossible to put down.” If you haven’t read the work of Tiffany McDaniel you are truly missing out because her prose is pure magic and I am not exaggerating. These two books deserve every single star in the reviewing universe.

Betty is inspired by McDaniel’s own mother and it is a powerhouse of a novel. It is set in the same town of Blessed as The Summer That Melted Everything so if you’ve read that book (and trust me you need to read that book), you’ll recognize the setting and there are several nods to TSTME near the end.

This is the coming of age story of Betty, a sensitive and wise young soul, who was born in a bathtub in 1954 to a white mother and a full-blooded Cherokee father and surrounded by older and younger siblings. Betty shares the dark skin, eyes, and hair color as her beloved father, and as she grows she faces prejudice and hateful bullying but her father’s love, kindness and stories inspire her to overcome and she never allows the suffocating hatred and unfairness of her circumstances to destroy her - even when she has all the reason in the world to do so. She is smart and strong and has a barbed wit that serves her well in life. Life is difficult for Betty. The things she endures would ruin most of us.

This book skillfully blends beauty and cruelty and doles them both out in equal measure. I’m not going to sugar coat things because that’s not what I do. Within these pages are some of the most devastating scenes I’ve ever read and I’ve read many a grueling book because I am a glutton for that kind of soul-shredding pain. There is one particular scene here that will be burned into my memory until my final days. Betty is hard to read and it is emotionally gutting and if you have any triggers please be warned that this book likely contains all of them. I had to put it down multiple times to take a breather and read something a little lighter but I never regretted going back to it. Life is ugly and life is cruel but life is also filled with joy and laughter and love and hope.

Betty is a story of abuse and it’s long-lasting repercussions, of trauma and poverty, prejudice, and crushing grief but even more so it’s a love letter to a wonderful man and a strong young woman. It’s bleak and devastating and far more horrible than most any horror novel I’ve ever read (and I’ve likely read far too many!) but it’s also filled with beautiful traditions, an incredible amount of wisdom, love, beauty, resilience, and hope. You’re going to feel broken and beaten as you read the words McDaniel has put down on these pages but Betty is one of those books you will not be able to stop thinking about and one you will not regret reading after you’ve turned the final page.

There are so many gorgeous and quotable passages here but this one struck me the hardest and made my heart stop a minute with its raw, powerful, and blunt imagery.

“She’s going to scream, I thought. And it’ll be something real. Something we have to chain up in the backyard and feed with bloody steaks.”

4.5 Stars

Born in 1956 to a Cherokee father and white mother, Betty Carpenter was raised to respect nature and was given the gift of storytelling. Among eight siblings, Betty is the only one to resemble her father and is closest to him, but the connection to her roots doesn’t make the prejudices she must face any easier. Poor and deemed to be different in a small town with ignorant beliefs is a constant struggle, as Betty must find a way to overcome such adversity.

“Boys are like that. Always tryin’ to pretend they’re savin’ girls from somethin’. They never seem to realize, we can save ourselves.”

Narrated primarily through Betty’s eyes, this book begins with Betty as a young girl and catalogues her experiences until she reaches adulthood. With shared wisdoms from her father, she learns how to adapt and also tell her stories. Proving to be a vital component of her family, Betty becomes a strong symbol as a Carpenter and a woman.

“But I had learned that just because time has moved forward, it does not mean something so terrible ever gets easier to bear.”

What I truly admired about this story is the resilience evident in Betty. In no way was her life easy, but she endured and remained true. I also liked Landon, Betty’s father. Though he had to quit school in third grade, he focused on his blessings rather than the struggles. With themes of racism, sexism, abuse and loss, there were many times when I wanted to strangle some characters, especially certain family members. But those scenes also made me really think about deeper systemic issues.

Betty is a poignant narrative showing how life isn’t perfect but there can be moments of light and strength.



*An ARC was provided in exchange for a review*.

I read and loved The Summer That Melted Everything when it published four years ago. Incidentally, I won a copy of that book from a blog giveaway, and since it was autographed, I was put in contact with the author and quickly found she is as lovely and kind as I imagined she’d be.

When you read one of her books, now that I have two under my belt, I can say this with absolute certainty, the reader knows she has something special in her hands. Books don’t come written like this every day. Storytelling isn’t always this memorable. And you know all know I love books and authors, so at the heart of what I am saying is I absolutely adored this book. It’s THE book. My book of summer.

Betty is a story based on the author’s mother’s life. It’s written in first person with Betty narrating. She shares the earliest history of both her parents, and then takes us through the family’s life as her siblings are born, before and after she is born, and up through the years as she comes-of-age.

Growing up in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains, in small town, Breathed, Ohio, which is a character all its own, Betty’s first person narrative is an intimate storytelling. She brings us right into the story, alongside her dear family, and this family? They have a loving father named Landon, a Cherokee storyteller who passes his gift on to Betty (and likewise to Tiffany, the author). Every story he shares is a glorious explanation of the way the world works. This humble, dear, vulnerable, loving father? I don’t think I could love a character more.

Betty’s mother, Alka, has a tormented past, and she has her share of difficulty with mental health as a result. The author writes about this with honesty and openness, while showing how most of the family adapts, supporting one another. There’s such tenderness between many of the characters, such complete devotion. There’s complexity, too, where their human nature comes into play, the push and pull so many families experience in their dynamic. No one is perfect, and Betty, with her insightful narrative doesn’t hide anything from the reader. Betty is bold and strong and completely authentic.

The family experiences a number of difficulties, big heartbreaks, strife, and losses, and every single time, Betty gets back up again. And through all of that, the family has each other. Some of the siblings are present for each other the most loving way. Landon is there to comfort, guide, and believe in his children, when they struggle to find meaning themselves.

When I was a mere 5% into this book, I fretted about not wanting it to end. This book is THAT good. The characters are living, breathing, loving, and endearing. They go through the darkest and most unsettling of times, and I was with them for every bit of this journey I never wanted to end.

I voted for The Summer That Melted Everything to win every literary prize in 2016. I will be right there shouting from the rooftops that Betty needs to be on everyone’s reading list. Powerful, emotional, beautifully descriptive and haunting, I will never forget Betty, her indelible story, or the way she shared it through her daughter’s masterful skill.

I received a gifted copy. All opinions are my own.

Betty
A novel
by Tiffany McDaniel
Read an Excerpt
Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Knopf
General Fiction (Adult) | Literary Fiction
Pub Date 18 Aug 2020 | Archive Date Not set

Loved this book! Do not miss this read. The cover is pretty unassuming but this book is a horror. Not to give away any parts but this book will grab you and not let you go. It is one of the best books I've read this summer.
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group for the aRC.
5 stars

BETTY, by Tiffany McDaniel, will be a book that will bring forth reviews loaded with what will seem like hyperbole. Then you'll read it for yourself and understand that no one is exagerrating when they say that this book destroyed them, that it is a beautiful yet horrific masterpiece, that you have never read anything quite like it.

The first note I'd like to make is: that unassuming cover is going to lure in a lot of unsuspecting readers. BETTY is a horror novel. There's dread and terror on almost every page, and that's because the characters are so wonderfully crafted. Numerous times while reading, I had to set my phone down (I only WISH I'd gotten a physical ARC of this beauty, and you better believe I have the hardcover pre-ordered) and find something funny to watch on YouTube, or pick up one of the lighter books I was reading, which is odd for me, because I love darkness. You could even say it's an old friend of mine. But one person can only take so much. If you have any triggers whatsoever, here's your content warning: THEY ARE ALL IN THIS BOOK.

BETTY is such an affecting piece of literature that I almost want to dislike it. This was not a pleasant read. I'd say that 70% of the novel is tragedy and sorrow, and some of the most disturbing body horror outside of, well, the horror genre. I don't mean to scare off readers of general fiction, or detract from McDaniel's literary capabilities, because they are tremendous, she's one of the best writers working today, but I can't place this elsewhere. Is it genre horror? No. Is it splatterpunk, or a creature feature? No. This is horror with a depth of heart, and that's what makes it so scary. You know bad things are going to happen to these people, most of who are lovely human beings, and it fills you with an unbearable amount of dread. Then, when the horror does strike, it's somehow even worse than you could imagine. Time and time again, I said to myself, "Self, no way things get any worse for this family. No way. Nu uh." And then it would. This book is exhausting in the best possible way.

Don't get me wrong, though, that other 30% is gorgeous, but so is the horrific content. This juxtaposition comes from McDaniel's ability to make the most mundane task magical with a set of perfectly chosen words, her ability to wax lyrical until the entirety of the novel shines. Every line is artwork, each paragraph a blessing, and every page a revelation.

Landon Carpenter stole the show for me, though, if I'm completely honest. This is a novel of female burden and female pain, but the centerpiece of this well-organized table is Betty's father, a Cherokee man that reminded me very much of a kinder, gentler version of my father. My own dad was half Cherokee, because his father, the chief of his tribe, went out and married a redhead. (If you watch my YouTube videos, I'll show a picture of him for y'all to see when I do my video review, because I'm well aware that my pasty ass doesn't look a quarter Native American). Unlike Landon Carpenter, my father was an emotionally broken man and a complete terror to live with. While, like Landon, my father always had a story to tell, his attitude leaned more to a vicious nature. In that way, he was more like Betty's mother.

The final parallel to my own life is how a certain character dies. This character's fate mirrored what my mother went through in February of this year (2020) so accurately, I had to put the book down for a few days. It hurt to read, and it hurts to think about now.

In summation: This novel is a journey through beauty and magic, tragedy and horror, and damn near covers every trial and tribulation a family can go through. But where I think the book truly shines is that it begs you to find the light in the world, especially when that light is reduced to a single star in an otherwise pitch-black sky. BETTY shows you the worst so that you can appreciate the best, and I love it for that. My highest possible recommendation.

Final Judgment: Not only is this the best book I have read this year, but it's one of the best books I've read in my lifetime.

Many thanks to my buddy Aaron Nash for reading this one with me, and to the author for providing me with a copy for review.

Tiffany McDaniel is an elegant storyteller. The writing was transporting, and the characters so vivid. As you grow along with Betty (the character), you really get a sense of who she is and she is a character you can really root for. Betty (the book) is definitely a gritty novel (trigger warning: explicit sexual assault) but it feels truthful. I found the descriptions of the Cherokee culture to be beautiful and the commentary on women's power so spot-on, especially in it's time but completely relatable in modern day. I think this would be a great pick for a book club — there is so much to discuss.