Friday, July 29, 2016

Dirty Old Boston



Jim Botticelli
Union Park Press
4 out of 5 stars
Reviewed by Nancy



Summary



When Jim Botticelli launched the Dirty Old Boston Facebook page as a salute to the gritty city he once knew, he discovered that thousands of people were equally nostalgic and curious about Boston s recent past. And for good reason; after World War II, Boston changed rapidly, without apology, for better and worse, and in many ways forever. Dirty Old Boston chronicles the people, streets, and buildings from the postwar years to 1987. From ball games to dive bars, Dirty Old Boston also covers some of the city's most tumultuous events including the razing of neighborhoods, Boston s busing crisis, and the continual fight for affordable housing. Photographs assembled from family albums, student projects, institutional archives, and professional collections reveal Boston as seen from the streets. Illuminating Boston's tenacity and spirit, Dirty Old Boston presents proud moments and growing pains. Raw and beautiful, this book is an evocative tribute to the city and its people.


My Review



I saw this book on display in the Kenmore Square Barnes & Noble while walking to work in the morning. Once I got to the office, I requested a copy from the library.

I was unaware the author created the Dirty Old Boston Facebook page. I’m not on Facebook, but if you are, it’s definitely worth a visit.

This is a gorgeous collection of color and black and white photos from the 1940s through the 1980s that vividly portrays the transformation of the city of Boston. I didn’t grow up in the city, but have visited quite a bit in the mid-1980s through the 1990s. Now that I work in Boston, it was fun looking at the dramatic changes that occurred in many of the city’s neighborhoods and suburbs. Some of those neighborhoods, like Scollay Square, are no longer there, while others are almost unrecognizable. I also enjoyed the changes in cars, clothing and hairstyles over the years.





In many ways, I like Boston now much better than I did in past years. It’s cleaner, safer, and more diverse. The downside of course, is that the city lost a lot of its grittiness and character. All those grungy nightclubs and music venues with the sticky floors were replaced with hotels, upscale restaurants and bars, and overpriced shops. It made me sad seeing all those photos of neighborhoods demolished to make room for roads, buildings, and businesses. It must have been a terrible time for the families who were displaced.



I’d love to live in one of those luxury high-rises overlooking the Charles River and within walking distance from public transportation, or one of the quaint neighborhoods in the South End, but, sadly, the city is way out of my price range.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Uncanny X-Men: Superior Vol. 1: Survival of the Fittest

Uncanny X-Men: Superior Vol. 1: Survival of the FittestUncanny X-Men: Superior Vol. 1: Survival of the Fittest by Cullen Bunn
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Just as life appeared to be turning back to normal for mutants, the terrigen mist cloud was released. The terrigen mist cloud transforms Inhuman descendants, but it makes mutants sick.
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Subsequently many mutants have gone to great lengths to hide from the cloud.
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Making matters worse the Dark Riders are seeking mutant healers for execution.
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The mutant healers and all mutant kind have an unlikely defender, Magneto and his mutant team.
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I picked up Uncanny X-Men out of curiosity. The lineup of Magento, Psylocke, Archangel, Sabertooth, and Monet seemed an odd group, but sometimes odd is good. This is definitely one of those cases. Seeing Magneto and Sabertooth actually doing the right thing was a fun change. This more brutal team of mutants are quite the interesting bunch. This team is one that prefers dealing with an enemy once.

I can't fully explain why I've enjoyed the Uncanny X-Men so much, but this title is my favorite X-Men title of the three current titles (Extraordinary X-Men and All-New X-Men being the other too). I look forward to seeing what Magneto's mutants will do next to defend mutantkind.

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Wednesday, July 27, 2016

CEREMONIES BY T.E.D. KLEIN

The CeremoniesThe Ceremonies by T.E.D. Klein
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

”The tree was dead. But crouched amid its branches, hidden by a web of smoke still rising from the earth, something lived: something older far than humankind, and darker than some vast and sunless cavern on a world beyond the farthest depths of space. Something that breathed, schemed, felt itself dying and dying, lived on.

It was outside nature, and alone. It had no name. High above the smoking ground it waited, black against the blackness of the tree.

It’s time would come.”


It is always so helpful when evil is ugly, dark, demented, scarred, or deformed. If we feel revulsion, we can side step our way to the other side of the street until we have safely passed it by. If we hear grotesque evil of some such knocking at our door, we can look through the peephole and go, “Hell no, I’m not opening that portal.” But of course, evil knows that presenting itself with horns, forked tail, and cloven hooves is not going to seduce many souls to the dark side. Wouldn’t it be better if it had the face of a child, or was a beautiful woman, or a charming, handsome gentleman, or maybe….

”It has long been my conviction that, were an absolute and unremitting Evil to find embodiment in human form, it would manifest itself not as some hideous ogre or black-caped apparition with glowing eyes, but rather as an ordinary-looking mortal of harmless, even kindly mien---a middle-aged matron, perhaps, or a schoolboy...or a little old man.”
---Nicolas Keize, Beneath the Moss (1892)


Rosie is the man behind the scenes, shuffling the cards, pulling the strings, and manipulating events. He is about as harmless looking as a human being can be. ”For all his paunch and double chin he looked surprisingly frail up close, and a good deal older than she’d at first supposed, perhaps well along in his seventies. He was no taller than she was, with plump little hands, plump little lips, and soft pink skin with little trace of hair. He reminded her of a freshly powdered baby.”

Although I will say that whenever I have shaken hands with someone with plump little hands, their flesh always seems to pillow around my hand leaving it sticky and slightly damp. *Shudder* Okay, maybe not the best tip off that I’m dealing with an evil entity, but it is still an unsettling experience.

T.E.D. Klein wrote an ode to gothic mysteries, which I can fully appreciate because I have a soft spot for those haunted mansion, rattling chains, demonic evil kind of plots. In this case, he abandons all the normal locations for a good skeleton rattling tale and takes us out to the country among a religious farming cult. I can tell you that evil seems to follow around Bible thumpers like flies to a corpse. I say, if you want to avoid tangling with a diabolical fiend, you should surround yourself with Bacchus loving atheists.

Jeremy Freirs decides that country air would be good for him and that maybe abandoning the city will allow him to focus on his dissertation regarding gothic novels. He brings bags full of books with him of all the usual suspects, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, Arthur Machen, H.P. Lovecraft, Ann Radcliffe, and one of my favorite gothic novels…The Monk. Now on the Poroth farm, he stands out like a sore thumb. He is chubby in a community of people who stay rail thin working hard for a living. They don’t believe in modern conveniences, not even electricity, so farming is about as hard as it can be made to be. The great thing about candles and lanterns is they create WAY better creepy shadows. Jeremy stumbles around trying to convince himself that he is having a good time, but really he is about as happy with nature as a werewolf is with a veggie platter.

Back in NYC, Jeremy’s almost girlfriend Carol is under the guidance of the harmless little old man Rosie, who, of course, is manipulating her into going to the country to see Jeremy, as the Poroth farm is exactly the place where the diabolical reawakening of an ancient evil is going to happen.

Holy S**t, right?

Now Carol has another problem which makes her a perfect candidate for this nefarious manifestation of evil. She is a virgin. Being a virgin in a horror novel of this type is like wearing a red shirt on an away team on Star Trek. Carol has a flowing white dress, some BDSM, and some pain in her near future.

On the farm, things are getting wiggy. In a letter (for the Millenniums out there, that is how we communicated in the past...think of it as long hand texting) to Carol, Jeremy sums it up nicely. ”I tell you, Carol, this summer started off like Currier & Ives, but it’s ending up like Edward Gorey.”

And he don’t know the half of it.

Klein also creates an interesting dynamic between the two couples once Carol arrives at the farm. Jeremy has been having rather elaborate fantasies about Sarr Poroth’s lush wife, Deborah. Sarr is also showing more than a casual interest in the lithe and pretty Carol. Jeremy is more than a little jealous at Sarr’s interest in Carol, and Sarr is well aware that Jeremy has been making lustful eyes at his wife. It is almost comical the amount of time the characters are moving around the board worried about who might sleep with whom when this incredibly horrible, vile, monstrous thing is about to crash the party.

The book, unfortunately, feels bloated. I felt a bit bogged down in the swamps from time to time with sweat trickling down my back and tall weeds in all directions. Klein does bring everything together into one explosive climax and does a great job tipping his cap to those gothic horror writers who have come before him. He certainly understood the gothic elements. ”Suddenly a flash of lightning lit the sky. Freirs shouted and drew back. A humped grey shape was pressed against his screen, outlined in the light. The eyes were wide, unblinking, cold as a snake’s. The mouth hung partly open. There appeared to be something crouched inside it….

Yabba Dabba do!

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Monday, July 25, 2016

Not Very Much Despereaux

The Tale of DespereauxThe Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo
Reviewed by Jason Koivu
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I remember reading books like this or having them read to me as a kid. It was always a frustrating experience, because I never liked when the author would stop the story in order to go back over something. "Yeah, I got it the first time," I would think to myself. Learning, teaching and making sure the kids get it is important, but so is keeping them engaged.

The story itself is only okay. It's nothing terribly exciting and honestly not a lot happens. There's an unusual mouse and he wishes to save the day. Scenes are small in scope and the action is minimal. Midway through another issue cropped up. Where did Despereaux go? He just disappears for nearly half the book! And right in the middle! You can't title a book The Tale of Despereaux and not have a Despereaux in it for half the bloody thing!

I read this to see if it would be good to read to my niece. I will not be reading this to her. If I don't have patience for it, there's no way in hell she will!


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Sunday, July 24, 2016

FF, Vol. 2: Family Freakout

FF, Vol. 2: Family FreakoutFF, Vol. 2: Family Freakout by Matt Fraction
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The FF plan to bring the Fanastic Four back to earth in time to stop Doctor Doom, Kang, and Annihilus from becoming Doom the Annhilating Conqueror. Things don't go as planned...

Matt Fraction and Michael Allred's run on FF ends with a bang. The FF take in Impossible Man's son Adolph, try to bring back the Fantastic Four, and go to war with Doctor Doom. Fraction does a lot to elevate Scott Lang in this volume and goes a long way toward dragging him out of Hank Pym's size-changing shadow.

The battle with Doom was very well done and Doom was true to his scene-chewing self. Fraction's portrayal of The Watcher was also pretty great and I loved the stuff on the blue area of the moon. Ahura stepping up for the war was also a nice touch.

Much like the last volume, this book reads like a modern day love letter to the Stan Lee and Jack Kirby days of the Fantastic Four. It's a damn shame this is the last of Matt Fraction and Mike Allred on FF. It's been a lot of fun. Four out of five stars.

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Friday, July 22, 2016

A Time to Rise



Tal Bauer
NineStar Press
4 out of 5 stars
Reviewed by Nancy



Summary



History says the Knights Templar were destroyed in 1307.

History is wrong.


Vampires haunt the sewers beneath Rome, revenants desecrate graveyards, ghouls devour helpless passersby, and incubi stalk dark alleys and seedy nightclubs in Italy’s capital. Deep in the Vatican, a brotherhood exists, sworn protectors of the earth, and they stand firm against monsters from the dark depths. Operating in secret and silence, they protect our world from the sinister, the etheric, and from the evils that exist beyond the Veil.

But it’s a lonely life, and Alain Autenberg knows that more than most. His lover was ripped from him years ago and he vowed never to get close to another soul again. Even when the loneliness presses down on him, and his empty heart cries out for something more.

Something more comes in Cristoph Hasse, a new soldier arriving in Rome to serve in the Pontifical Swiss Guard. Young, brash, and fitting in at right angles everywhere he goes, Cris struggles in the murky, deceptive labyrinth of the Vatican. Propelled forward by a past he can’t understand, Cris collides with Alain, and both men crash headfirst into the darkest secret of the Vatican… and of the world.



My Review




Alain Autenburg is an elite soldier in the Pontifical Swiss Guard that protects and defends the Vatican, but his obscure task of fighting dangerous supernatural elements along with his blunt and chain-smoking sidekick, Father Lotario, causes him to be aloof and secretive, which keeps him from fitting in with his peers.

Cristoph Hasse is the newest member of the Guard and is assigned by his commander to mentor under Alain. Like Alain, Cristoph is a man with secrets along with an attitude. Alain’s attraction to Cris is immediate, but the only time he acts on it is in his dreams. His heart is still wounded from the loss of his previous love 12 years before. Their mentorship starts off awkwardly until Cris and Alain gradually start to open up and develop a friendship. Unfortunately, the nature of Alain’s duties and his vow not to fall in love again force him to keep his distance, much to Cris’ annoyance and peril.

As a paranormal story, this was a lot of fun. The revenants, vampires, ghouls, wraiths, and incubi were so lovingly and meticulously described, that they invaded my nightly dreams. I loved the partnership and easy friendship between Lotario and Alain, the details of their investigations, the charms, the spells, and the special weapons. Abundant descriptions, historical and geographical details that felt accurate were very effective in conveying a sense of atmosphere. The action scenes and the near-death scenes were tense and heart stopping, and the mystery was very satisfying. The secondary characters, human and supernatural, were well developed and memorable.

As a romance, this was a little disappointing. Even though I love a slow-burn romance and sexual tension, there was so much push and pull between Alain and Cris that I was starting to get annoyed. For crissakes, it took an incubus to get these two together! Their sex, when they finally had it, was sweet and well worth the wait. The surprise ending was done well, but left me feeling somewhat bereft. I’m looking forward to a sequel that will answer some questions and show how Cris and Alain cope with the significant change in their relationship.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Superman: Secret Identity

Superman: Secret IdentitySuperman: Secret Identity by Kurt Busiek
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

David and Laura Kent are a couple from Kansas with a poor sense of humor. The proof of that poor sense of humor is the fact that they named their son Clark. He's Clark Kent from a small Kansas town and the Superman jokes never end. One night he stopped caring as the impossible happened, he flew. Not in a plane or a hang glider instead he flew into the air in a sleeping bag.
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It turns out this Clark Kent is a Superman and he has all of Superman's powers as well. Welcome to the life of a Kansas boy with a comic book heroes name and powers.

The basic premise of Secret Identity is along the same lines as the recent vampire movies. Everyone knows vampire's aren't real in these movies until the fangs pop out and the human characters start freaking out. This Clark Kent has been gifted with Superman presents his entire life and he understandably hates it until he turns into Superman one night in his teens. He starts off just flying and then decides to help people.
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He encounters problems because people want to profit from his power, but he handles that well overall. For the exception of supervillains Clark gets the full Superman experience, he even gets his own Lois.
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I'd have to say this isn't truly a Superman story. This isn't Clark from Smallville who battles Lex Luthor and has superhero friends. He's the real life equivalent of a nice quiet kid who happened to get Superman's powers. It was refreshing in the sense that this Clark has real fears and concerns. He doesn't have a special ship with a recording of his alien father telling him who he truly is. He's just got his parents with their bad sense of humor. If not for his name and the other Superman specific tie-ins this could easily be a story of an average teen becoming something super.

Secret Identity was a well written down to earth tale of super powers appearing out of nowhere. This story wouldn't make me like Superman, but I certainly enjoyed the poor Clark Kent who was named after a comic book superhero.

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Wednesday, July 20, 2016

DARK MATTER BY BLAKE CROUCH

Dark MatterDark Matter by Blake Crouch
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

*****NO SPOILERS, I SWEAR.*****

”What if all the pieces of belief and memory that comprise who I am--my profession, Daniela, my son--are nothing but a tragic misfiring in that gray matter between my ears? Will I keep fighting to be the man I think I am? Or will I disown him and everything he loves, and step into the skin of the person this world would like for me to be?

And if I have lost my mind, what then?

What if everything I know is wrong?

No. Stop.

I am not losing my mind.”


There is nothing more frustrating to a reviewer than reading a book that can’t be written about. Almost every piece of information I could give you about this book is a ***spoiler***. Now, my definition of a spoiler and other people’s definition of a spoiler are not always the same, but in the case of this book the less said, the better.

I was very fortunate to watch the movie The Sixth Sense without having a clue about the plot, which is a minor miracle since I’m highly exposed to plots of movies and books, but I was... over the moon... to watch that particular movie without knowing the twist of the plot. So with The Sixth Sense (That plot has nothing to do with this plot, just to be clear.) in mind, I am going to resist the urge to write and write and write about how cool this book is.

The first order of business is to convince your friends to read it with you because you are going to want to discuss this book over numerous bottles of wine and a platter of cheese and pretzels. The cheese and pretzels only so you can drink more wine. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to have a designated driver, so my thought is that you should have this book discussion at someone’s house and bring your PJs. Stay over and maybe, if you have the right reasonably attractive friends, you can have….

”...fumbling, groping, backset-of-the-car, unprotected because who-gives-a-fuck, protons-smashing-together sex.”

So keep that in mind, so that you don’t get TOO DRUNK while discussing this book.

Now, anyone familiar with Blake Crouch should know he is a twisty, a twizzler, a zigzagger, a trickster. He bamboozled me in Wayward Pines, and now he has gone even further with Dark Matter. The great thing about this TWIST is that it isn’t just a one off twist...oh no...this is a twist that keeps wrapping itself around other twists until you start to feel little explosions in your head of all those overloaded brain cells.

It’s okay, you have plenty to spare.

By the end of the book and certainly after the protons-smashing-together sex, you will be fully convinced that “...we’re a part of a much larger and stranger reality than we can possibly imagine.” You will also be convinced that you need to read more Blake Crouch books, so you might as well go ahead and factor that into your book budget and *erhhh* food budget right now.

”What might have been and what
has been
Point to one end, which is always
present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we do
not take
Towards the door we never
Opened.
--T. S. Eliot, ‘Burnt Norton’”


I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley and Crown Publishers in exchange for an honest review.

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THE SUMMER THAT MELTED EVERYTHING BY TIFFANY MCDANIEL

The Summer That Melted EverythingThe Summer That Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

”It was a heat that didn’t just melt tangible things like ice, chocolate, Popsicles. It melted all the intangibles too. Fear, faith, anger, and those long-trusted templates of common sense. It melted lives as well, leaving futures to be slung with the dirt of the gravedigger’s shovel.”

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Slipping Away by Tiffany McDaniel. If you preorder the book you can sign up here Tiffany McDaniel's Preorder Contest to win some cool stuff including a signed print of this watercolor.

The heat wave that hit Breathed, Ohio, in 1984 was no ordinary hot spell. It was oppressive and inescapable. It was as if the cellar door to hell had been laid open beneath their feet. Sweat dripped from their pores like the tears of the damned. Tempers flared under the constant, ruthless lash of unbearable high temperatures. Reason floated away into the atmosphere and was replaced by superstition and irrationality.

And it was all Autopsy Bliss’s fault.

He did write the letter, after all.


”Dear Mr. Devil, Sir Satan, Lord Lucifer, and all other crosses you bear,
I cordially invite you to Breathed, Ohio. Land of hills and hay bales, of sinners and forgivers.
May you come in peace.
With great faith,
Autopsy Bliss”


The Devil accepted.

Now Autopsy Bliss is an educated man, a lawyer in fact, but he got bit by the fire and brimstone of religion. When he issued this letter to the newspaper, did he really expect the Devil to appear before him? Did he think he could wrestle Lucifer or spar with Satan, and The Cross would assure him a fair fight?

I don’t think that Autopsy Bliss expected a creature with cloven hooves, forked tail, and horns to appear on his doorstep. Lucifer is a fallen angel, not a demon, and certainly not the creature of fairytale, or the fiendish incarnation he has been depicted in films, or the lurid spectacle he has become on the covers of pulp novels.

It turns out he is a thirteen year old black boy with green eyes. He was, in fact, the same age as Fielding Bliss. He calls himself Sal.

”If looks were to be believed, he still was just a boy. Something of my age, though from his solemn quietude, I knew he was old in the soul. A boy whose black crayon would be the shortest in his box.”

Autopsy might have had a more realistic vision of Satan in his mind than the cartoon version, but it still took some mental gymnastics to even begin to believe that Sal was the Devil. The heat has eroded minds. Logic is a bonfire. Familiar perceptions are a blaze. When things start to go wrong for people, they start to believe that the implausible is suddenly the only possible explanation.

Fielding’s mother Stella hasn’t left the house in twelve years. When she withdrew from the world, she decided to bring the world to her by turning each room of her house into a different country. Grand is Fielding’s older brother, a young man on the cusp of the rest of his life. He is a God of the ballfield, but also a man of character and sensitivity that makes him so much more than just the sum of his parts. Fielding worships him, as he should. Grand is someone we can all aspire to be more like.

He is a worthy sacrifice.

”A summer’s day, and with the setting sun
Dropt from the zenith, like a falling star”
---Milton, Paradise Lost


It is one thing to never find paradise, but of course it is quite another thing to have found it and lost it. For a family named Bliss, they have watched the gates of Eden shimmer behind them and disappear.

Sal becomes the third son.

I think what the people of Breathed forgot about was that the concept of the Devil is manifested in all of us. You might not see him when you look in the mirror dead on, but turn your head to the side and look out of the corner of your eye, and you might catch a glimpse of him. He is reflected in your fingernails when the light is just right. Sometimes, if you close your eyes down to slits, you can see him in the swirls of your pancake. He stares at us from the darkness, from the bowel of a tree, or through the eyes of an owl. You can’t kill him. You can’t kill the light that has fallen to darkness.

Why would God let you?

”People always ask, Why does God allow suffering? Why does He allow a child to be beaten? A woman to cry? A holocaust to happen? A good dog to die painfully? Simple truth is, He wants to see for Himself what we’ll do. He’s stood up the candle, put the devil at the wick, and now He wants to see if we blow it out or let it burn down. God is suffering’s biggest spectator.”

The town begins to suffer from mass insanity. Call it the heat, but there is this dark desire in too many of us that rises to the surface, unchecked, when we are challenged.

Tiffany McDaniel might be a young writer, but this is no raw first novel. She is wise with bone deep perceptions of who we are and who we become when we allow hysteria or religious fervor to dictate our actions. She writes with conviction and complexity that forced this reader to reread sentences and paragraphs to better appreciate the uniquely, creative ways she composes her thoughts. The setting is in the North, but some of the Southern Gothic of the deep South leaped over the Mason-Dixon line into Ohio. I also could swear I witnessed the ghost of Douglas Spaulding running through the woods with Fielding Bliss and saw the flash of his bare feet as he dived back into the pages of Dandelion Wine. I thought I saw Shirley Jackson lost in the loose limbs of the mob...her eyes as big as dinner plates and her mouth opened in a.... ”That was when the screaming started. They were screaming cheers, we were screaming tears, and Sal was screaming fear. A rhyme of the ages.”

Who among us can stop them? Who can wiggle a screwdriver between the door and the jam and let the cooling balm of reason flood the hallways of a fevered mind?

The author and NetGalley provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Tiffany McDaniel was gracious enough to agree to answer a few of my questions about the novel. Below is a short interview I conducted with her.

 photo Tiffany McDaniel_zpslnhldvc2.jpg
Tiffany McDaniel

Jeffrey Keeten:As I was reading your book I couldn't help thinking about Dandelion Wine. Have I been out in the heat too long or am I right about this book being somewhat of a homage to the Ray Bradbury book?

Tiffany McDaniel:I love Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, so I’m beyond thrilled that you’ve brought it up. I always say I want to be buried with the novel, have it in the clutches of my ghost to carry forth in to the great beyond. Having read it many times, I’ve always wanted to write a story about boys coming-of-age in the summertime. Those two events seem to parallel one another as if summer exists in childhood itself. On the surface Dandelion Wine is about boys coming-of-age, but what Bradbury does so well is threading that melancholic undertone through his verse, his own bittersweet brand that makes his stories and his story-telling the mark of a true master. Life and death, happiness and sadness, these are the things that permeate both Bradbury’s novel and my own. No one can ever surpass Bradbury’s beautiful writing and story, but perhaps my story is a way of recognizing the beautiful force that has been Dandelion Wine in my life.

Jeffrey Keeten:Paradise Lost obviously had a heavy influence on the writing of this book. You certainly have left me thinking I need to schedule a reread of PL. You also mentioned Orwell's 1984 in the book. In thinking about the scope of this book what other books would you say had a heavy influence in the creation of this book?

Tiffany McDaniel:I first read Milton’s epic poem when I was in my early twenties. I was immediately drawn to it because it’s about that which has always fascinated me. The fall from grace. The very thing that is said to have cast all the curses upon us as human beings, and put the sins within reach. I always title my chapters in my novels, and when I was thinking of the chapter titles for The Summer that Melted Everything, “Paradise Lost” immediately came to mind. How could it not be the perfect partner for this summer? Though I do hope I have made Milton proud by including his beautiful quotes, quotes which do outshine my own words by a billion, sparkling miles.

As far as Orwell’s 1984, it’s one of those required readings that most everybody has in school. I was so fascinated by it, if only because the year 1984 has passed already, but also because it was a novel predicting a certain state of affairs where citizens are manipulated and all independent thought is a crime. It’s hard to talk about 1984 the novel and its reason for being in The Summer that Melted Everything without giving any spoilers away, but I’ll just say that both Orwell’s novel and my novel speak of that herd mentality. How easy it is to come about and how threatening it is to individual choice.

As far as other influencers on The Summer that Melted Everything, I can’t think of another book in particular, but reading in general just adds layer after layer to one’s soul. And with a book like The Summer that Melted Everything where we’re looking at the balance between good and evil, well those are things we see every day on the nightly news. Look no further than our daily life, and we are surrounded by the fuel to write about chaos and peace, good and bad. If anything, the book of life itself is the spinning wheel to a story like this.

Jeffrey:The book is set in Ohio, but it has such a Southern Gothic feeling to it that I kept thinking the geography could have easily been set in the Deep South such as Donna Tartt's home state of Mississippi or Flannery O'Connor's Georgia or Harper Lee's Alabama. You must have encountered some of that Gothic magical realism in Ohio?

Tiffany: Breathed, Ohio, the fictional town in the novel is based on my childhood summers and school-year weekends spent in southern Ohio on the hilly acreage and in the cinderblock house my father was left to him by his parents. Southern Ohio, while in a northern state, does very much have that southern United State twang to it. “Ain’t” is as abundant as the wildflowers in the fields, and bullfrogs are the music of the night. It’s a very front porch type of place. It’s a place that has shaped me as an author. I’ve said before, cut me open and there will be a release of fireflies and moon-shine. In many ways, southern Ohio was a magical place to me because it was so different from the more northern part of Ohio where I lived and went to school. That southern portion, the foothills of the Appalachians, is a part of Ohio that has its own magical myths. I was told the hills were full of tigers, released there by a zoo gone belly-up. I would stand on the creek edge and see a gar go swimming by, thinking it was an alligator. Added to this, I’ve always had a gothic mind. Wishing I could live in a derelict mansion with velvet curtains and Shirley Jackson spires. Wolves howling, spiders webbing, magic churning night after night…

Jeffrey: Autopsy Bliss goes on my list of greatest character names in literary history. As I was reading the book I started jotting down the character names because I was struck by the unusual nature of most of the names. Do you start with a name or do they sometimes remain nebulous personalities in search of the right name for a while as you write?

Tiffany: First off, thank you for the incredibly wonderful compliment of Autopsy’s name. I’m sure Autopsy himself would be quite pleased. When I start writing the characters, I do have to have their name from the beginning. Having their name really helps to create and flush out the character. I can’t write them without a name. It’s like walking in dark woods by myself, calling for the characters to come out from the trees. But if I don’t have a name to call, who is there to come out?

Jeffrey: I jotted down this question while I was still in the early stages of reading the book. Would you want to live with the Bliss Family? They are ethereally wonderful, but of course the tragedies that find them as the plot unfolds probably answers that question. This is truly a book about bad things happening to good people. Are they still walking around in your head or have you managed to lock them in a back room of your mind so you can move onto your next novel?

Tiffany: To answer your first question, I would want to live with the Bliss family, if only because I love them all so much. Even with the tragedies that reshape them as a family, I would live with them. Be their daughter, their sister, their best friend, the one crying with them, laughing with them. As the author, I’ve already done all these things. I’ve already felt like I’ve lived in the house with them. What is home, if not with the people we love? I will always share a life with the Bliss Family, as I do my real family. To me there is no difference, because while fictional, the Bliss family exists for me.

I always say my characters feel real to me. Maybe I won’t get to physically interact with them in this world, but I feel as if in another plane of the universe, or even the afterlife, I’ll be able to speak to them, to recognize them as people who have lived full lives from womb to coffin. I always say my characters do not begin with the first page I’ve written. They do not end with the last. They existed before and they exist after the book. There are moments and experiences they have that none of will ever know as author and reader. In every way, they are as fully human as any of us. And they are always with me. Even when I write another novel. They are there. They just politely sit down, so new characters can stand up.

Jeffrey: Speaking of next novel, where does Tiffany McDaniel go from here?

Tiffany: I have eight completed novels. I’m working on my ninth right now. I wrote my first novel when I was eighteen. I wouldn’t get a publishing contract until I was twenty-nine. I spent eleven years struggling to get published. Rejection after rejection made me fear I never would be published. So much heart-ache and pain on the journey to publication, I can’t believe I’m about to be a published novelist. Publishing does move at a snail’s pace, and even with the contract I’ve waited two years for the book to move through the publishing house to the shelf. I’m thirty-one now, having waited in total thirteen years to see one of my novels on the shelf. So where I go from here is to just keep writing. Hoping The Summer that Melted Everything does well enough for me to have the other books published as well. The novel I’m hoping to follow The Summer that Melted Everything up with is When Lions Stood as Men. It’s about a Jewish brother and sister who escape Nazi Germany, flee across the Atlantic, and end up in my land of Ohio of all places. While here they create their own camp of judgment where they serve as both the guards and the prisoners. It’s a story of surviving the guilt that threatens to undo us all. More so, it’s about surviving love and the time when lions once stood as men.

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Tuesday, July 19, 2016

The Devourers by Indra Das

The DevourersThe Devourers by Indra Das
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When I was younger, I had a huge interest in vampires, mummies, and werewolves. I loved all the classic monsters, but in media today, I seriously dislike the changes and "sexing" up of these monsters. Monsters are by definition, monsters...they are not human, the feelings and thoughts and patterns of our mundane, short lives DO NOT apply to them.

The Devourers is a fever dream of beautiful, brutal and bloody language, a look into the inhuman lives of shapeshifters or "werewolves." I read this book in one day and I am very glad I did. The characters in this story, even though strive in some cases to reach out and touch various aspects of humanity, are as far away from any basic concept of a human being as any other animal in the wild.

Stunning writing set in a vivid world of characters that are totally fluid things. This book will grab ahold of you with gorgeous depictions of some very brutal things.

I give this book 10 out 5 stars, it is totally worth your time.

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