I read The Great Alone first and fell in love with Kristin Hannah’s writing. I’m envious of Hannah’s emotional telling of her stories. I loved The Women just as much as The Great Alone. It’s the story of the forgotten soldiers of the Vietnam War—the women who served. In particular, the novel centers on a nurse shoved into horrible circumstances, how she survives, learns and thrives, then comes home to a world that makes her feel ashamed of her service. It’s a story of self-challenge, bravery, sacrifice and, most of all, love.
In this blog I offer a different type of book review—one that’s combined with vocabulary building. I found quite a few words in The Women that were unfamiliar. I love to look up words I don’t know or find words used in a wonky way I wouldn’t expect. I stayed away from the medical terms but included here are a few interesting words from The Women.

From The Women:
She could see that he wanted more from her, absolution maybe, but there was time ahead for that.
absolution: noun, formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment. / an ecclesiastical declaration of forgiveness of sins.
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From The Women:
At the last minute, she went in search of her ANC pin—a brass caduceus with its wings behind a bond N—and pinned it on her sweater.
caduceus: noun, an ancient Greet or Roman herald’s wand, typically one with two serpents twined around it, carried by the messenger god Hermes or Mercury. / a representation of this, traditionally associated with healing.
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From The Women:
From the ferry’s car deck, she saw the almost-completed bridge; huge concrete stanchions rose out of the wavy blue water, curving from one shore toward the other.
stanchion: noun, an upright bar, post, or frame forming a support or barrier. / (in full cattle stanchion) a frame that holds the head of a cow in place, especially to facilitate milking.
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From The Women:
She couldn’t wait to be welcomed home at last, to be admired for her service instead of reviled.
revile: verb, criticize in an abusive or angrily insulting manner
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From The Women:
Thankfully, she had her boonie hat. It wasn’t fashionable, in fact was the opposite, but the olive-drab hat had become a favorite possession in ‘Nam, almost a companion, and it kept the sun out of her eyes. A dozen pins and patches decorated the crown, gifts she’d gotten from her patients. Each bore the insignia of some unit. The Screaming Eagles, the Seawolves, the Big Red One.
boonie hat: noun, a wide-brimmed, durable, and lightweight hat designed for maximum sun and rain protection, often featuring ventilation ports, a secure chin strap, and “branch loops” for camouflage. Popular with military, tactical operators, and outdoor enthusiasts, they are made from ripstop fabric for durability in harsh environments.
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From The Women:
They each ordered an ao dai to be made in soft, diaphanous silk, and Frankie bought a bolt of silver silk shantung for her mother and an ornate brass cigar cutter for her father.
ao dai: noun, a Vietnamese woman’s long-sleeved tunic with ankle-length panels at front and bak, worn over trousers.
diaphanous: adjective, (especially of fabric) light, delicate, and translucent.
shantung: noun, a dress fabric spun from tussore silk with random irregularities in the surface texture.
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What interesting words or terms have you found in your recent reading?
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Definitions are typically from the dictionary that comes with my Mac or The New Oxford American Dictionary.
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To connect or learn more about Kristin Hannah, find her at KristinHannah.com.
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“The word is only a representation of the meaning; even at its best, writing almost always falls short of full meaning. Given that, why in God’s name would you want to make things worse by choosing a word which is only cousin to the one you really wanted to use?” ― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft











Karen: As a long-time member of my local writing organization, I had noticed that there wasn’t an effective way for writers to connect with other writing groups or to isolated areas. I was inspired to take action after a presentation on what it meant to be a literary citizen…