My neighbor, who’s as indefatigable a reader as I am, handed me this book by Haven Kimmel and said, “I think you might like this one.”


In A Girl Named Zippy: Growing up Small in Mooreland, Indiana, the author shares stories of her 1970s childhood, from birth until about age ten. Kimmel was born as an afterthought into a family that included an aloof, much-older brother; a beguiling sister, as beautiful as Kimmel was funny-looking; a mom who, when not mired in depression, loved books, her family and God; and an atheist, cigarette-wielding, gun-toting-but-devoted father.


Talk about fodder for Midwestern drama.


In this mostly sweet, often quirky memoir (once a Today’s Book Club pick), Kimmel achieves an artful retelling of a contented childhood. How she manages to turn that into a page-turner still eludes me. Tension surely exists – between Zippy and her family, between Zippy and her fellow townsfolk (especially the grownups who don’t know what to make of this odd little girl with the too-big teeth and the barely-there hair). How Kimmel weaves these conflicts together to propel her characters forward is a testament to her skill as a storyteller.


In getting her memoir published, Kimmel defied the odds. She’s not famous; neither is Mooreland, population 300, which in this book stands as a character on its own. Plus, Kimmel writes of a happy childhood. How does this form the basis for a bestseller? Perhaps the secret lies in Kimmel’s prose, which, though unadorned, rings clear and true. I challenge any reader to not find something to enjoy about A Girl Named Zippy.