The Language of Flowers

An orphan since shortly after her birth, Victoria Jones has few constants in her life other than the Victorian-era language of flowers, taught to her by a potential adoptive mother. Tara Sands excels in her narration of this story of pain, loss, and hope. Now aged out of foster care and group homes, Victoria must try to make a new life for herself. She supports herself by designing bouquets around the meanings of flowers, arrangements that seem almost magical, while at the same time she is haunted by the life she almost had. Sands captures perfectly the struggle of leaving a lost childhood to enter adulthood, of cautiously moving forward while being seared by the pain of the past. J.L.K. (c) AudioFile 2011, Portland, Maine

May 30, 2011
Diffenbaugh's affecting debut chronicles the first harrowing steps into adulthood taken by a deeply wounded soul who finds her only solace in an all-but-forgotten language. On her 18th birthday, Victoria Jones ages out of the foster care system, a random series of living arrangements around the San Francisco Bay Area the only home she's ever known. Unable to express herself with words, she relies on the Victorian language of flowers to communicate: dahlias for "dignity"; rhododendron for "beware." Released from care with almost nothing, Victoria becomes homeless, stealing food and sleeping in McKinley Square, in San Francisco, where she maintains a small garden. Her secret knowledge soon lands her a job selling flowers, where she meets Grant, a mystery man who not only speaks her language, but also holds a crucial key to her past. Though Victoria is wary of almost everyone, she opens to Grant, and he reconnects her with the only person who has ever mattered in her life. Diffenbaugh's narrator is a hardened survivor and wears her damage on her sleeve. Struggling against all and ultimately reborn, Victoria Jones is hard to love, but very easy to root for.