Tales of Fascination

March 14, 2020Everything Else

Review of The Cured

Lisa Caskey’s third book in her The Farmed trilogy, The Cured, brings to a conclusion the events of post-apocalyptic United States circa 2085. In her first book, she described the devastating war which left only a few people alive, mostly in San Francisco. Residents live under a brutal regime while in a hidden away facility, a few select are genetically grown. In The Mutated, her heroes travel a great distance to learn more about others who have survived. And now in her stunning conclusion, the plot comes full circle as those who desire freedom (The Enterprise) clash with those in power (The Council).

Minor spoilers ahead if you haven’t read the first two books. The main character, Winnie Kimball, has grown in experience and power while away from San Francisco. She’s living in a free city away from The Council and learning to increase her powers daily. After the events in The Mutated, the city is recovering and deciding how to deal with their losses. An attack by enemies from California spurs Winnie and the Enterprise to make an important decision—will they declare war on the Council ruling San Francisco?

From there, the heroes begin a journey with one significant detour and many twists and turns. Their odyssey will lead to the inexorable finale between Winnie and her enemies with multiple cliffhangers interspersed with various action-packed sequences.

To review this book apart from its trilogy is a disservice. Certainly, anyone interested in the The Cured should invest the time and read the first two. While small details help to catch the reader up, they don’t serve as a true summary of the first two books, and I suspect someone new to the series would be lost. Nonetheless, on its own terms, this novel contains thrilling scenes, consequences of past decisions, and a number of fresh ideas. The Cured starts with an exciting action sequence and makes sure the book moves along at a good clip. Between the chapters with Winnie are a few chapters are written as journal entries from Winnie’s ancestors point of view.

But this reviewer enjoyed the big ideas the most. Two or three chapters come to mind which I thought were truly imaginative and worthy of the blockbuster movies that come out during the summer. In particular, I thought the encounter with the mutant blockade was very creative. And the heroes march into San Francisco will be an image burned into my mind for a long time. These large, innovative passages set apart The Cured from the prior works in the series.

I’ve complimented the pacing of the first two novels and this one excels in that too. While I could have used a bit more variety in sentence structure, I like the crisp style of the novel and it’s direct-to-the-point details. The author picked exactly the right mood for a science-fiction action book.

The Cured is a worthy conclusion to The Farmed trilogy. I can honestly recommend all three novels. Each book presents its own conflict at the start and resolves it within its pages but each is also true to the overall arc. The third novel both resolves its own arc and the series’ conflict, and it ends with a nice denouement. The Farmed is a trilogy you want to pick up.

March 6, 2020May 5, 2020Everything Else

Stormwatch Diaries

The Legend of the Storm Sneezer: The Stormwatch Diaries #1 is the debut novel of Kristiana Sfirlea. Kristiana took pity on me, a struggling writer trying to navigate Twitter, and allowed me to read an early draft of this story. I thought her her pitch sounded “interesting.” I was wrong—her work was not just interesting but fascinating & captivating, & easily the best novel I read that year. Review is here.

You can order now at: Amazon – https://amzn.to/3ctx5id
Barnes & Noble – https://bit.ly/3au5UlM
Indiebound – https://bit.ly/2TnhKYV
Kobo – https://bit.ly/2VN6ruH

February 26, 2020February 26, 2025Everything Else

Eight Reasons to Read Fairy Tales to your Children Now!

The Independent wrote an article on October 18, 2018 entitled “Five Reasons To Stop Reading Fairytales to your children Now!” which is not only misleading but dangerous. I’m going to deconstruct their entire article with logic and then give you eight rebuttals in support of reading these stories to your children.

Independent: “Stories like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast are so ingrained in popular culture that it can be all too easy to overlook the damaging ideologies that they perpetuate via misogynistic characters, degrading plot lines and racial uniformity.”

Bold statement. Let’s lose the inflammatory language and restate what they are saying in plain words without the derogatory language. Words like “misogynistic” are used purposely to get you to sympathize with a side because, if you rebut it, you too must be misogynistic, true? No, not true at all. Here’s another way to state this sentence. “Stories like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast are so ingrained in popular culture that it can be all too easy to overlook the negative ideas they portray, such as characters who hate women, plots that reduce segments of society, and everyone is of one race.”

So it’s not okay to write about characters who hate women any more? We’re not supposed to teach our children these people exist, possibly avoided in some situations, and should be corrected? Apparently, the idea of “recognizing evil” is no longer in vogue. Is it no wonder that evil runs rampant in the world? You can bet there are others teaching their children to hate. When your child encounters that ideology, they will be defenseless to contradict it. If we censor our children from stories with hateful characters, we are doing a grave disservice to them.

And who are these people? For some reason, the authors of the article connect them with the princes and generally all the male characters. Really? I’ve read these stories multiple times and fail to see how the prince hates Cinderella—because you know the prince is a misogynistic bastard…really? Please read me the line where the prince exhibits these characters.

Degrading plot lines. Degrading to women? To dwarfs? To whom exactly?

Racial uniformity. Okay, please reread Grimm’s version of Cinderella and tell me what race she is. Guess what? Nothing says she’s caucasian. Fairy tales are short and lack detail in order to be relevant to a wide swath of people. Perhaps instead of complaining about these stories, the authors of this article should sit down and actually read them instead of going to see a Disney movie and assume they know the stories.

Independent: Women are passive damsels who can only be saved by men.

I wrote about Rapunzel before when it comes to princes saving princesses. If the authors of this article can tell me exactly in which way the prince “saved” Rapunzel, I’d like to know. Hint, he doesn’t.

Let’s take Snow White. What saves her exactly? A jarring as she’s mounted in a cart and then apple flies from her mouth (read it, that’s what happens). The prince never truly “saves” her. Her evil stepmother is not killed by dwarfs or princes but destroys herself—a great lesson that when you do evil to others, you often do evil to yourself as well. Did they even read the story, or did they assume the prince kissed her and awoke her?

Independent: Marriage is the ultimate reward

I see. So we should all stop reading Shakespeare too as many of his plays end in marriage. I guess Orlando “saves” Rosalind because that’s how As You Like It Ends too. Let’s stop reading Shakespeare because Rosalind’s ultimate reward is marriage. (That’s sarcasm. Go read it.)

This is a traditional ending of the comedy (versus the tragedy). Yes, it’s a cliche but it’s not meant to be derogatory to women. Plenty of novels end with a marriage.

Independent: Not only does this present marriage as the sole goal for the male and female characters, which subsequently characterises them as vapid, but it totally abhors the value of professional, financial, and social success, all of which seldom feature in these narratives.

No, it doesn’t at all. It only means someone gets married. As a married person, this smacks as prejudice that one cannot find happiness in marital state. I’m highly offended. The stories never say that “if you’re not married, you’re not happy” (reread Rumplestilskin).

I love this phrase “but it totally abhors the value of professional, financial, and social success.” Let’s examine one of the most popular fairy tales which this article targets—Cinderella. One of the most-loved elements of this tale is the hard-working, waif/slave rises above her abusive sisters. Mistreated, she works hard at her chores (i.e. profession) and finally gets her chance to go to the festival. While the fairy tale doesn’t come out and say “she’s a hard worker and her efforts pay off later when she meets the prince,” the tale clearly implies it.

Independent: Love is seen as a concept which happens when you find somebody to marry and not seen as evolving philosophical concept.

There’s a simple answer to this. Love is not an evolving philosophical concept. Love is a very real, emotional experience, indescribable, made evident in one’s spouse, friends, and children. Even that definition falls far short of what it actually is. Love is not something you sit back and observe, scratching one’s chin, and reflect on impassively. Love is not cold or dull. Love is warm and bright. And marriage is not the end goal of love—not at all—but people express their love in the ceremony of marriage which I see as a positive symbol to the world.

Independent: Lack of racial/physical/sexual diversity

Since diversity isn’t present in these tales, the tales must be pushing an agenda of homophobia or bigotry? The absence of inclusion of this diversity doesn’t imply the support of that idea. In the future, there will be another marginalized segment of society, and guess what, today’s inclusive authors will have overlooked them, and they will become the “ists” of a future generation.

You could make the same statement about most novels of the nineteenth and early twentieth century. Read Dickens, Bronte, Hemmingway, Steinbeck. Were these exemplary authors a bunch of bigots too, promoting their regressive ideas? It’s a good thing we have more diversity in modern novels, but don’t look down your nose at past literature because of it. As I said above, one day you’ll find yourself tabelled “bigot” in some way.

Independent: Female characters are either bound to the home…or they’re evil step mothers / sisters / witches

Now, either I’m misunderstanding the term “bound to the home” so I will try to answer this in both ways. First, “bound to the home” means they never venture out from their home. I don’t think this is what the authors mean, but I’ll respond to this claim to cover all bases.

In this case, Snow White, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Thumbelina, Penta, the Marsh King’s Daughter all venture out of their homes. Some are forced, admittedly, but most choose to go and they survive and are stronger when they do (a good lesson in female empowerment).

Or perhaps the authors suggest “bound to the home” means a female character is a domestic. She’s the cook, maid, etc. of the household. Fairy tales were written before the industrial age. Sorry to say, both men and women were bound to the home in most ways. Oh, but the men were the farmers or hunters you say. They ventured out every day. Yes, and the women did too. If they weren’t the hunters and farmers themselves, they were the gatherers, gardeners, shoppers.

Are all women domestics in fairytales? The female lead in Rumplestilskin is a royal spinner, the Little Match Girl is a merchant, Thumbelina is an adventurous sprite, but admittedly, a lot are. However, if you know one thing about fairytales is that the protagonist is often not a woman but a girl or starts the story as a princess (i.e. a youth). People think the fairytale characters are in their twenties. No, they were written with teenaged protagonists.

These characters were all written to be under seventeen: Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood

Don’t you want your twelve-year-old daughter bound to the home? Are Matilda and Romona Quimby bad influences because they’re “bound to the home?” Oh, but they’re girls, you say. And what exactly is Little Red Riding Hood?

Or women are witches? So a woman cannot be portrayed as evil any more? Not very diverse. There are plenty of evil or mischievous, magical men: Rumplestilskin (in which the woman outsmarts the man—please don’t read that to your female children according to this author), Pinnochio, Little Red Riding Hood (wolf is referred to as he), Jack and the Beanstalk, Tom Thumb, etc. Again, I have the feeling the author looked at their shelf, saw the Disney movies, and made a snap decision to write this article without doing their proper research.

Independent: While fairytales can be brilliant for inspiring imaginative discussions in children, parents must be vigilant in their way of sharing these tales so as to avoid promoting outdated ideologies they continue to foster.

I’ll tell you a trick about time, the moment a book is published, it’s outdated. Cell phones, VR, AI are all technology which makes books written 5 years ago feel like they’ve been written 20 years ago. Your ideologies this year will be outdated next year. In Dante’s Inferno, people chase around a banner outside of hell. I feel the same way with people chasing around the “progressive spirit.” It’s okay to make the world a better place, we must all be vigilant to call out misogyny and racism and anything that reduces the human person. However, we should not expect everything to adhere to our current standards.

Lastly, the article makes no recommendations for replacements. In other words, what will you read to your children? The author doesn’t recommend anything because nothing is sanitized to a degree where it can’t be criticized in some manner. Maybe this is their intention—it’s better to read nothing to your children. Do that and you’ll be unfortunately making your children dumber according to every educator everywhere. Be my guest if you will, but I’m going to continue to read to my kids, and I’m going to continue to read them fairy tales!

January 2, 2020January 2, 2020Everything Else

Review of The Pale Rose

Brina Williamson’s The Pale Rose is a cozy mystery set in the 1940s in the spirit of the Thin Man movie series. One can almost visualize Myrna Loy playing housewife Amelia Humble, wife of detective Charles E. Humble. Amelia and Charles have the witty repartee that was so delightfully represented in the days of Nick and Nora.

This classic setup has a dinner party ending with fireworks and the hostess, Josephine Thompson, kidnapped after she leaves the room feeling ill. The only item left of note amid a wrecked room is Thompson’s pale rose. The detective assigned to the case is not the sharpest of knives, so Charles Humble is enlisted to help find her.

The reader is treated to a classic Agatha Christie-style interview segment with a cast of characters. Ms. Williamson treats us to a cast of characters at the start of the novel. I love lists like this and wish more books would follow suit. After Charles meets with most of the party attendees, his wife Amelia arrives to start making sense of a number of conflicting testimonies. Following her lead, all manner of secrets are revealed as one would expect until the riveting conclusion. The housewife knows what’s going on before the reader—of course—right until the final revelation. The clues fit nicely into a tapestry of a story with only a few red herrings along the way. Near the end, one cardinal rule is broken but in a way that is unique and doesn’t affect the enjoyment of the novella. In fact, the clues and testimonies all lead to a logical conclusion.

A quick call out to the interior illustrations by the author. This is the type of detail that really adds to a book of this length. The multi-talented Ms. Williamson really gives the reader something to enjoy here.

The Pale Rose is a great cozy mystery, and a fun read on a dark and stormy night. Pick this up if you like a solid plot and an entertaining whodunnit mystery.

January 2, 2020January 2, 2020Everything Else

Review of The Raventree Society Season One

Cover for Raventree Society: Episode One

I’ve read that in the times of Dickens, many books were written as serials and later published together as a book. One of the most famous of these is A Christmas Carol with each chapter entitled as a stave. I’m saddened that this type of publishing has gone the way of the dodo. Today authors write novels, or short stories, but I’m not aware of a serial publication when I was growing up.

But that’s all changed with independent publishing. It’s possible to publish serially now and then collect it into a book. This is what excites me the most about self-publishing—the way people creatively try something where traditional publishers wouldn’t dare take a risk.

In my opinion, The Raventree Society Season One by J. E. Purrazzi is a modern serial publication collected into a novel. As I started reading this novel, I didn’t realize the intent, so by the end of chapter two (entitled as episodes), I was concerned. This horror novel was frightening and imaginative, but where were the “let’s slow down and examine the characters” chapters? Where were the mortar chapters that support the main chapters into a cohesive whole? And then it struck me—this is a collection of serial fiction. Get on board or get off the train. When I realized this, I got on board and am glad I took this ride.

The RavenTree Society is about a program of ghost chasers which found success online. The show manufactured its scares until the main star, Kyle, encounters a real ghost. Back up three months before and the crew lost one of its own, Kyle’s brother Tyler. The novel starts with the show on hiatus until the “spectre-busters” find Tyler. We catch up with Kyle and another crew member, Hannah, who have checked into a hotel with a sordid past.

Episode one gives the reader an exciting and creepy beginning and I was pleased how quickly the book introduced the horror. Episode two seemed a lot like episode one, and when I finished, I had questions about the structure of what I was reading. And then I realized the author had released the episodes individually and collected them in this book. You can’t write a transition chapter this way and sell it. True, there are background and character-building moments in every episode outside of the more frightening segments, but to publish the episode on its own, it must include one terrifying sequence. Once I got that through my thick skull, I enjoyed the remaining sections immensely.

Horror novels succeed in making the reader live vicariously through the character in a dangerous situation. You have to want to be there and you have to trick yourself into believing you are there. The first is done through realistic characters. They don’t have to be likeable but you have to buy into why they are in trouble and in what they’re trying to achieve. The second is done through detailed settings and descriptions. I bought into the characters in Raventree enough to want to make this journey with them, but it’s the latter that really shines in this book. Purrazzi gets a lot out of the places and situations the society finds itself in. Whether it’s an old hotel, historic mansion, or an ordinary street, the author excels at bringing about the goosebumps. At one point, one of the characters is trying to decide whether to enter a creepy corridor or not. Suddenly, he realizes the ghost has mesmerized further down than he realized. It set up an effectively unsettling scene. Another sequence with a character tied to a tree while something keeps appearing at the edge of his vision is another nail biter. Purrazzi pulls off a good scare in each chapter.

I know there’s a Season Two to this book but I expect books to arrive at some resolution regardless of a sequel or not. While not everything was resolved, the book felt like it concluded, though it did so abruptly. I’ll chalk that up to the serial nature again but I felt satisfied when I came to the last page.

When I read this novel’s blurb, I expected a camera crew, ghosts, and some creepy scenes in which people are in danger and don’t know it. Raventree delivers all this and more.

December 29, 2019Everything Else

Review of The Supremacy Witch

Marion Mavis’ The Supremacy Witch kicks off a series of fantasy novels in which witches travel around a fantasy world of non-witches called Nomystics. Light and dark witches exist in covens with the light witches ruling the people in the beginning. The witches are organized in covens and our main character, Evelyn Emmerich, is preparing to lead her own coven.

The premise, Evelyn travels to meet with the Elders to train in one-word magic spells and returns as a leader, is set up in the first chapter. A high fantasy in time period and tone, the novel gives the reader a twist right at the beginning, When Evelyn’s best friend Amelia is accused of hurting her in practice, Evelyn protests and is cast out of her coven. She goes to live with Nomystics in Aleston where she hopes to make her way but instead is attacked. From there, the plot grows more complicated with betrayals and the introduction of side characters whose intentions are dubious at best.

Though I read The Supremacy Witch to review it, taking time to note details, I breezed through it quickly. It drew me into its world, made me care for its main character, and kept the action rolling through point-of-view change-ups and interesting side plots. I was quite surprised at my progress every time I had to stop, and I didn’t want to put it down. Mavis’ prose rolls along, carrying the reader from one scene to the next without slowing down.

The novel doesn’t exclusively follow Evelyn but jumps to scenes involving her former coven and other minor characters. In general, I’m not fond of first novels of a series switching viewpoints, but it worked here. If an author uses this technique then it’s best to build suspense and character insights rather than using this device to prolong its text. Mavis does that here, keeping the story on-track despite jumping from one plot thread to another.

In The Supremacy Witch, one of the characters picks up the mantle of The Chosen One and finds it a heavy burden to carry. For the first half of the book, I was acutely aware of this status on the character and wondered (as I usually do) “why this character?” It’s often a question that is answered with the unsatisfying phrase “because the author wanted it that way.” I was pleased when the author introduced a sensible reason for a Chosen One. While not fully explained, the details are left to the reader’s imagination, at least in this novel. No matter, enough is explained to start the Chosen One on the journey through the series.

At the conclusion of the first third of the book, a game-changing (let’s call it) “event” happens to Evelyn which sets the course for the rest of the novel. This event radically alters Evelyn who must cope with its aftereffects. One issue I took with the narrative was the event happened to Evelyn without her choice. Her decisions from that point forward were so different from the first third of the book that I had trouble sorting out what was happening because of the event, and what was happening of Evelyn’s free will. Post-event Evelyn, to me, remains an interesting but a compromised persona, and I had a tough time rooting for her. The people she trusts manipulated her and the event was so damaging, I had hoped her character would reclaim a bit of her innocence she had at the start. However, by the end of the novel, I had reconciled with Evelyn’s character and her overall arc was satisfying.

Often people tell me they like villains more than heroes because the villains are more realistic. I found the opposite was true here. The heroes, especially Amelia and another called Anima were quite fascinating. Of the dark witches, I think many would agree that Mae was the most fun. I hope the little mischief-maker is around future installments.

If you’ve read my reviews before, you know I’m usually harsh on a book that doesn’t come to some sort of a resolution by the last page. I realize authors want to tell long stories, especially in fantasy, but I feel strongly novels in a series should reward its readers with some conclusion even if the main narrative continues. Fortunately, The Supremacy Witch comes to a reasonable resolution, answering many questions while tempting readers to continue. Note: the second one is available—first thing I checked when finishing the novel.

The Supremacy Witch is filled with great magical sequences, interesting plot twists, and a cast of characters worth investing in. In the near future, I plan to pick up the next book in the series, The Shadow Witch, and return to the world of Evelyn Emmerich and her coven.

December 24, 2019Everything Else

Review of The Mutated

Lisa Caskey’s second novel, The Mutated, is the second of The Farmed Series trilogy. A dystopian sci-fi novel set after a massive war called The Conflict has destroyed most of earth, the heroine Winnifred (Winnie) Kimball finds herself fleeing The Council in San Francisco on her way to a safe haven. Along the way, she’ll encounter a group of desperate people living in the tunnels of Cheyenne Mountain, a walled city, and—of course—mutants.

The opening catches the reader up through a series of flashbacks after the events of the first book of the series, The Farmed. The book starts with a mutant hunting down a hidden Winnie who has separated from the rest of her team. But her adversary had better be careful as Winnie is a powerhouse herself.

Some of the threads started in the first book are resolved in this offering. Winnie looks forward to a significant reunion with two characters through most of the chapters. The identity of Winnie’s father and what became of him is also explained as well as the ongoing saga of the struggle with the evil Council. At the same time, The Mutated introduces a few new elements, including a potential new love interest, and leaves them for resolution in the final set of three books.

What I’ve really enjoyed about The Farmed Trilogy is the pacing. Like the first in the trilogy, I read the middle installment quickly because its mix of action and mystery captured my fascination. The characters are interesting, the settings are both familiar and alien, and the action sequences are well-written. The novel also balances its serious and lighter chapters well. As an example, “lighter” scenes of an unexpected run-in after a shower or the presentation of a flower to Winnie is welcome when it’s wedged in the middle of more suspense-filled chapters. Interludes like this segment help to lighten the grim premise.

The author adeptly transforms a particular U.S. city into a post-apocalyptic fortress. The detailed attention to describe a realistic setting serves the main plot well. Unlike in most speculative fiction novels where either the city is completely foreign or it had not changed at all, Mutated’s description of urban areas allows the reader to picture the characters walking down its streets. And so far this series has avoided sending its characters to the familiar terrain of other novels, specifically post-apocalyptic New York or L.A. Thank goodness.

I said in my review of the first novel in this series that this series borders on New Adult more than Young Adult. Certainly, the situations depicted in the book lean toward an older crowd. Examples include an insidious plot at Cheyenne Mountain and a horrifying condition of pregnancy. Nevertheless Winnie is relatable to the YA crowd. She’s growing in her powers and confidence, and she’s met someone new who has captured her interest. As a main character, she’s a delightful hero.

The Mutated with its various locales, its twists and turns, and its likeable characters and hiss-evoking villains, is a worthy second entry in the trilogy.

December 20, 2019December 20, 2019Everything Else

Review of The Relic Spell

The Relic Spell, (subtitled: Book 1 of The Phyrian War Chronicles) a novel by Jimena Novaro, is an urban fantasy which combines the high fantasy mysticism of magic casting with the horror adventure of monster-hunting. The start of series, Relic also works as a standalone novel.

Set in the fictional town of Port Monica where both spell-casting and demons exist, we find only a handful of sorcerers (most of them novices) around after a devastating event occurred over a decade in the past. Orion Tamura is a son of famous Daisuke Tamura, a sorcerer who disappeared fourteen years prior fighting in a horrible conflict named the Phyrian War. The demons who pass through the portal to Port Monica following the war have been weaker than their predecessors. Orion and his partner Max Carter fight these creatures with spells and weapons. Orion pulls energy to form spells and Max, Orion’s unrequited love, targets them with swords. The two of them consider themselves the town’s defenders. Orion and Max have been partners for years, but lately Max has started a relationship with kindly Briar, an evocator and granddaughter of a major demon.

A major threat is introduced when Orion, having a normal day at school, suddenly feels a discharge of magic that nearly knocks him sideways. Someone has activated an ancient spell, and the energy it needed sucked the life out of fifty-two people. Max and Orion decide to investigate this massive, magical intrusion into their upstate New York small town.

For people who like intricate and well-thought-out magic systems, Relic is a treat. The novel takes great pains to describe how the magic system works and how to cast spells without ever dragging the narrative down. For people who like magically-enhanced noir detective novels, Relic also delivers. The early part of the novel places Orion in the gumshoe position, following clues while trying to piece together the larger picture of what’s going on. And for people who like fast and frenetic adventure in their fantasy novels, you’ll also want to add this book to your reading list. Encounters with dimensional beings, fighting major demons, near escapes, car chases all happen naturally within the flow of this enchanting novel. Stringing along its backstory in its first half, Relic might be disorienting to some readers at first, however the portrayals of family life, the humor, and the action help to piece together the information needed to enjoy this world and its characters. Midway through the book comes the inevitable backstory of the Phyrian War which might have been dialogue-heavy, however, the way Orion learns about the war is highly creative and a particular highlight.

Orion’s a compassionate character with a strong moral compass and a worthy hero. He’s realistically portrayed and his concern for his family and friends is evident in every scene. He cares about his community. Much like a superhero, he worries about his neighbors, even when they don’t treat him kindly. The other character who shines in Relic is Elsa. Another demon hunter and superior fighter, Elsa’s grim determination and quirky behavior makes her one of the most interesting characters in the novel. Her evolution through the narrative is an enjoyable arc.

While most elements of the book were well-developed, the romantic relationships in the narrative felt a bit forced. Relic is by no means a romantic novel so this didn’t detract from the story, and I sensed most of these scenes were setting up a future novel in the series.

Of all the spectacular elements of Relic, the magic system stands out. The description of casting spells, “Then the energy in front of him, faint at first but growing brighter, traced a pattern. Golden threads crisscrossed over the doorway…like a cat’s cradle.” Even the sword Max uses has certain metals forged together that work on magical creatures. Drawing energy from the natural world sets boundaries and makes the magic realistic.

I hesitate whenever I pick up the first book in a series. An extra level of commitment is required for reading a number of novels. I’m happy to report Relic nails this aspect. The novel introduces a major conflict and brings it to a logical conclusion. Not all plot elements are resolved—one element is purposely left wide open—but I thought the ending was strong. The climax followed its own path, an imaginative resolution to the “unbeatable” villain scenario, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The Relic Spell combines mystery, monsters, and family into an absorbing first offering of a series. It’s a worthy addition to your library if you like to lose yourself in an urban fantasy filled with demon vanquishing.

Full disclosure: I received an advanced copy of this novel from the author in the hopes of a review. Though I didn’t purchase this novel, I have bought other works by this author and would gladly pay for The Relic Spell. So yeah, it’s a fine novel.

December 14, 2019Everything Else

Review of Meatloaf and Mistletoe

Meatloaf and Mistletoe, a novel set in the fictional town of Bells Pass, Michigan, is a romantic novel of lifelong friends who, try as they might to avoid it, are starting to have feelings for each other. The story is told from the perspective of both Susannah Ivy Lancombe and Shepard James (Shep) Lund, a waitress and a city worker. At the start of their story, Ivy comes into an inheritance and Shep has a chance at a promotion. Both are on top of the world, but they also feel something is not quite right.

Ivy’s mother, her only parent, dies when she’s sixteen, and the person who keeps her anchored for the next nine years is Shep. Ivy’s attracted to Shep, but she’s worried if they start a relationship and it doesn’t work out, she’ll lose his friendship. In a world where she can’t trust anyone but Shep, Ivy isn’t willing to risk it. For the first half of the book, the two support each other through large changes in their lives, and at the same time, feel drawn to each other. Will they commitment or will the ghost of the past hold them back?

Meatloaf and Mistletoe takes an unconventional route to pairing its two protagonists. Rather than the typical “couples meet, couples part, couples meet again,” this novel spends more time examining the motivations of its characters. Ivy has legitimate fears and has built walls around her to make sure she won’t feel unsafe again. Unfortunately, Shep is her door to dealing with the world, and if she loses him, she’ll be walled-in for the rest of her life. Shep understands how Ivy feels, and he spends a lot of time trying to convince her without understanding she must solve her own problems.

This novel is more a vignette of life from Thanksgiving to Christmas than a traditional romantic arc of first love, an unexpected approach for some readers. Despite being mostly light-hearted, the narrative has a few dark moments, elements unexpected in carefree romantic novels. Far richer than most other books in this genre, Meatloaf and Mistletoe has depth and heart to spare, and of course, a cozy, small-town feel to it.

I enjoyed the voices of both protagonists. They were honest, charming, and in some cases, funny. I loved little scenes like how Shep helps Ivy after she steps through a board in a staircase, or how Ivy helps Shep after an asthma attack. Both were great examples of showing how much they cared for each other: Shep as a gentleman as he frees Ivy’s foot, Ivy as a caretaker as she helps him breathe. The relationship between the two of them comes off as natural and realistic because of little scenes like these.

Meatloaf and Mistletoe is a great Christmas, or anytime, novel if you’re looking for a solid romantic read.

November 23, 2019Everything Else

Analysis of On Earth, As It Is

Here’s a behind-the-scenes blog on my second novel, On Earth, As It Is. If you haven’t read it yet, be forewarned that this posting assumes you did. In other words, major spoilers ahead.

People often ask me about my names. I’ve been fascinated with how much of a role names play in novels. Scrooge, Severus Snape, Ishmael. These are names that stay with you and somehow convey characteristics of a person in a novel. In Dickens’ time, they may say “He was a wicked old screw.” See how close Screw and Scrooge are, and why the name Scrooge meant something to people even subconsciously?

I’m not that psychological, but when I started Kingdom Come I decided I was going to have fun with the names. No wicked names here like Garblood Dragonbane. I only broke this rule once (I’m proud of Fyrekilm for Rose Red), but I decided for some of my characters to put in a hidden meaning, or just have fun with the name.

On Earth, As It Is, I introduce a number of new characters which gave me the opportunity to be creative with names. So we have five women from earth who take the place of the five queens of Kingdom. Trying to remember which of the five women took the place of which of the five queens was hard for this writer. “Was Paisley Nepta Snow White’s replacement or Penta’s?” I tried to make it easy on the reader (and the writer too!) and have the first letter of each of the women match the first letter of each of the queens. So Cinderella’s “C” matches the “C” in her counterpart, Charley. And Sylvia’s “S” matches “Snow White.” To add to the fun, each of their last names are anagrams of the queens’ first names. For example, we have Paisley Nepta who fills in for Penta. Nepta is an anagram of Penta. I’m certain most readers spotted this little bit of nonsense.

I introduce the Hartstone family and their names at different points of the book for a reason. The Hartstones are the family who adopted Cinderella. I assume everyone knows she has a step-mother and two step-sisters. The sisters’ names are Bonita and Clydamonte, or Bonnie and Clyde. The mother’s name is Astoria, so (and I admit this is really obscure) if you take the first letter of each name, you have A-B-C.

Some people figured out my dragon names. In my opinion, Smaug remains the best of dragon names in literature. I racked my brains trying to come up with something half as great but failed. So I went the other way. If I can’t be cool, then at least I can be silly. The mother-grandmother combination is Her-She (Hershey) and her sons Cra-Kel (Crackel), Ree-See (Reeses), Wop-Pur (Wopper), and the groaners go on from there.

Danforth came from Sally Forth, a cartoon whose name I always loved. It was only later I realized that Dan’s name matched my illustrator, Dan Johnson. I named the mob boss’s after actor John Fielder who, among his many credits, voiced Piglet. I enjoyed pairing this big bad wolf of a character with Piglet’s voice actor.

Lastly on the subject of names, I must admit to a serious faux-paux in my second novel. In the first one, Planet the pixie renames Harold as “Hero” because, when you cross worlds, you should get a new name. As I was in the middle of my millionth revision of On Earth, I realized I had never renamed Sondra. I originally added a line at the end of the book where Sondra wonders why she didn’t get a “cool, new name.” I decided to remove this passage and hope people wouldn’t notice, but now that I’ve admitted it, oh well. I saved Sondra’s “Kingdom” name for a future installment if I ever continue the series.

The themes of On Earth center around identity. The queens counterparts are both like and unlike the queens. My goal was to take a virtue of each of the queens and twist it to its opposite. The virtues of loyalty (Penta), pacifism (Helga), philanthropy (Valencia), modesty (Cinderella), and courage (Snow White) are reflected back to them as their opposites. I chose the word “reflected” on purpose as it’s always a reflection that shows the alter ego. In the case of the queens, it’s the mirrors. In the case of Sondra, it’s a reflective surface. I placed mirrors carefully throughout the story. Sondra uses her compact mirror in Harold’s apartment and she’s herself. When her compact smashes on the ground after saving Hero, she’s no longer completely herself. She’s now Sondra with pixie highlights. She’s “restored” to being Sondra when she looks at herself in the pool at the end.

The Claddagh ring also symbolize friendship (as it always has). Sondra takes it off at the beginning and leaves it on the sink. Her friendship with Harold is broken. Harold picks it up and gives it to Clydamonte indicating they are now friends and Clyde passes it onto Sondra, also cementing their relationship. Why doesn’t Sondra give it back to Harold in the end? Because another ring comes into play that symbolize a whole lot more than friendship. The new ring symbolize that Hero and Sondra’s relationship is not “the same, old thing” it once was, but a deeper, “richer” ring. When marriages stay together or fall apart, it’s not because they stay the same, it’s because they change, and those changes come through experiences (note Harold’s speech to Sondra).

The horse is also a symbol. Often connected with freedom and riding “the open range,” women riding horses is a powerful symbol of many things. In this case, the horse transports Sondra to Kingdom. The toy horse symbolizes her desire to be with Harold and it’s so strong it transforms and takes her directly to him. It’s also a flipped symbol. On earth, it’s a toy that should unlock imagination and not a “real” thing. In Kingdom, it becomes real. This hearkens back to the first book which asks the question “What is real anyway?”

The first novel Kingdom Come referenced many fairy tales. I didn’t want to repeat myself, so I toned that aspect of the novel down quite a bit. However, I wanted to introduce a few fairy tale characters into Kingdom, and so we now have Alice from Alice in Wonderland, Tom Thumb from Tom Thumb, Gretal from Clever Gretal, and the entire concept of white snake from The White Snake. Hope you spotted them. And kudos to my beta reader who told me White Snake is also a drink which I incorporated into the story.

As you read, On Earth was carefully plotted and I paid attention to details to bring you not only a fairy tale but a novel about relationships, virtue and sin, popular culture, and ultimately, marriage. My boy-meets-girl story is Kingdom Come. This novel explores what happens afterwards. How does boy-and-girl-stay-together? I hope you enjoyed it.