It was near midnight on a night in late December. The madness of the holiday season was nearly over... just the ball drop to go... before the New Year began. I was at home, alone, reading. I was curled up on the couch with a book by one of my favorite Indie Authors, Andy Lockwood. I was finally getting around to reading his novel, House Of Thirteen. Our dog, Charlie, was snuggled up nearby. My husband was away for the weekend; spending time at our cabin with his guitar, and our other dog, Finnigan.
As I turned a page and sipped a bit of cocoa, I heard a faint mumbling voice emitting from the bookshelves to my left. Filled with my most treasured things; family photographs, stuffed ducks, books signed by Indie Authors, and a Snoopy music box - a gift from my husband - I was startled by the noise. There wasn't anything on those shelves, let alone in the whole house, that could have produced such a sound. Charlie hadn't stirred. The room became silent again, and I shook my head; surely I'd imagined it. After all, being deaf in one ear, I spend a lot of time hearing things and not hearing things differently than the rest of the world. I went back to reading.
A few more pages and sips of cocoa later, I heard the sound again. A muffled, mumbling voice. The words weren't clear, but it was definitely a voice. Then, the room became quiet again. Andy's writing was messing with my head. His story was getting into my brain. He's done that before. I got off the couch, reached over, and turned on the other lamp. Of course, extra light would eliminate the problem.
I sat back down, turned the page, and reached for my cocoa. As the cup drew close to my lips, I heard it again. A bit louder this time, low and rumbling, insistent in the expectation that I respond. No discernible words, mind you. Just a tone that required my full attention. I set my book and mug on the coffee table, and walked closer to the bookshelves. Charlie perked up his ears at my movement, but remained comfortable on the couch. The muffled voice persisted. I lifted the music box, thinking perhaps its mechanism was stuck. Nope. Snoopy was silent and perfectly still. Not even the slightest vibration. Then I heard it again. A low rumbled whisper, and as I bent to the lower shelf, it became louder. I reached for the leather-bound journal I bought a few weeks earlier. I hadn't used it yet... I was waiting for the right time, the new year, creatively important things to record...
I pulled the book from the shelf and it vibrated in my hands. I reached for the leather strap and unwound it from the clasp. The parchment pages fell open to the near-middle of the book, and a faint whiff of the scent of burning wood from a campfire lofted up from the binding. "I am the Genie of The Book," came a voice from somewhere inside.
I dropped the thing on the couch and ran across the room. Charlie yelped, raced into the bedroom, and crawled under the comforter. This was not normal behavior from a book, certainly not a blank book, even Charlie knew that. I glanced at House of Thirteen, still sitting next to my cocoa mug, and whispered, "Thanks, Andy."
The journal, still sitting open on my couch, puffed out a little bit of grey smoke and said again, "I am the Genie of The Book." I hesitated... but then, curiosity acting instead of intelligence; I picked up the book. "I am The Genie of The Book," it intoned yet again. It was nothing if not persistently redundant.
"Um, okay," I said. "What do you want?"
"It's not about what I want," it said. "It's rarely about what I want... It's about what you want. What do you want?"
Completely gobsmacked - and that is not a word I ever use, but nothing else fits here - I sat down on the couch, held the book in my lap, and replied, "Uh... I don't know what you mean. Can you rephrase the question in a form that might make sense to me, because right now, nothing is making a lot of sense to me. I've got a book talking to me - for which I blame a nightmare of Andy's courting, - and perhaps sour milk in my cocoa. So..."
The voice cleared it's throat, sounding much like a disgruntled Harrison Ford as it replied with exasperation, "I am the Genie of The Book..."
"Yes, you said that..."
"And, I'm here to grant you three Writing Wishes."
"Writing Wishes?" I asked
"Yes, Writing Wishes... what other kind of wishes do you think a Book Genie would grant?" Another small puff of charcoal smoke circled up to my nose. I swear, if it had eyes, the journal would have rolled them at me. The disgruntled Harrison Ford voice was not pleased.
"Ah... alright... Can you make my book a NYT Bestseller?"
"Why not?" I said, a bit frustrated and beginning to doubt the validity of the Genie. "That's a wish every writer has; I'm sure you've encountered that request before, haven't you? I'd think it would be an easy one."
"Of course, it's what every Indie Author wants. But that's not writing. That's selling. Two different things. One's controllable, the other one's SOOOO not."
"Oh. Well then, I'll need a little bit of time to think about this. How many wishes do I get; is it the standard three?"
"Well, sure," said the Genie, now with more of a soothing Tom Hanks voice. "Everything's got to have it's standards. Wishes are no different."
"Got it. And I'm guessing that asking for the annihilation of an author I don't like or getting Neil Gaiman to attend my next book signing is out of the question, too, right?"
"Now you're catching on. See, this isn't that hard. And don't forget to begin with 'I wish'; you should at least know that part, right? Everybody knows that part. You've seen Labyrinth." The voice shifted into a condescending Prince Humperdink. The changing voices thing was beginning to get a little unnerving. This thing would be so much easier to believe if the stupid Genie had an agreeable Robin Williams voice... something that at least made sense.
"Okay, three Writing Wishes." I thought for a minute. What would make writing better, easier, more fun... what did I need to improve my craft? I'd always been told - and told others - writing didn't involve magic - so this was a bit of a stretch for me.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes of thought, throughout which the book emitted silent three inch tall mushroom clouds of wispy smoke with an exasperated wheeze on every puff, I made my requests. "Okay, I think I'm ready."
"It's about time. I could have yellowed with age from all your procrastination." The Book Genie's Harrison Ford impersonation was really quite impressive. "Can we get on with this, please?"
"First, I wish for perfect grammar and spelling. That would eliminate the need for at least one editorial pass; but you've got to keep it current... none of this Canterbury Tales Olde English nonsense. Chaucer's nice, but he's dead. Let's keep him that way, okay?"
"Done," said the Genie, returning to the much more calming Tom Hanks voice. A green puff of smoke emitted from the middle of the binding, and a page magically turned. Did I say magically... well, okay, there really isn't a better way to describe it. The page turned by itself... I didn't touch the thing. The windows were all closed, no breezes in the room, magic was the only reasonable explanation. Okay, perhaps not reasonable - but it's an explanation... sort of. "What's next?"
"Okay, um, thank you." It seemed odd to be talking to a book... but I thought that if I was talking to it, and it was talking back, the least I could do was be polite. Who knows how this stuff will come back to bite you if you aren't respectful. "Second, I wish for one-click instant cover formatting and interior formatting with pagination so I'll never have file upload issues with the print house ever again. You can't even begin to imagine how frustrating it is to receive email after email from robots telling you that something is wrong with the formatting, but never being quite specific enough with the details so you can fix the problem on the first pass. Avoiding that headache would be magical, indeed."
"Sounds like a reasonable request to me." There was a yellow puff of smoke, more like a jet stream, than a mushroom cloud this time, and again the page turned. The tingling sensation that moved from my right hand to my left was small but perceptible as the page flipped. Also, this time, a little woosh noise happened as the pages changed position. Did a formatting wish take more energy to grant? Logically, it made sense. It was a heartier wish than spelling and grammar, after all. "You got it. Now what?"
"Wow, that's great. Thank you." I was down to one wish. What was a writer to do? You would think that with all the imagination stored up in my little brain, and the vast number of stories I can concoct on a near-hourly basis, this would be easy, but it's not. Wishes are difficult - more so when you know that there's a better than excellent chance they're actually going to come to fruition. You don't want to be wasteful, but you don't want to be ordinary. You don't want to wish for something you know you could accomplish without the help... but you don't want to miss an opportunity to make the writing craft easier, either. This wishing business was an arduous task. Who would have thunk?
It took a few more minutes of contemplation to decide on my final wish. It was a conundrum. The book was softly humming the theme from Jeopardy. It was a little distracting. After two choruses of the theme, the Book Genie said, "Can we move it along here... I've got places to be, stories to tell." The exasperated Harrison Ford voice was back.
"Alright," I said with a sigh, "I think I've got it." I took a deep breath and spoke my final wish. "I wish that the book reviews I receive from readers are honest, and that I learn to handle them with grace, without frustration, and without ego." The book was silent for a long moment. I knew that I was asking for something big... but really, if I had only one Writing Wish to have granted, this would be the one. Was it within the realm of what the Book Genie could accomplish? I didn't know. The book remained silent... two small puffs of alternating blue and magenta smoke, like smoke stacks, emitted from the middle of the binding.
After about three full minutes, the book spoke, and this time, much to my delight, with the intonation of Robin Williams. "Wow!" it said. "That's never been wished for before. "Whew! That's a big one." With a final, simultaneous puff of blue and magenta smoke, and a sound that resembled the crashing of waves upon the northern Maine coastline, the page turned and the Book Genie said, "Your wish has been granted." The book quivered in my hands for a brief moment, and then fell silent and still.
I felt Charlie's tiny, wet tongue licking my eyelashes and my nose. I opened my eyes. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. Andy's book and my now cold cocoa mug were on the coffee table, my journal was open on my lap to the first page. Written in my handwriting was a single entry:
Thank you is the best you can do,
and the greatest honor you can bestow upon any reviewer.
Don't Screw This Up!
There's been a trend in recent years to gift books at a baby shower in lieu of cards. I think it's a fantastic idea, and something I've been doing long since before it became a trend. I've always been a firm believer that a child should have as many books - as they have toys... and preferably more books. When you gift a book to a child, what helps you make that final decision? Do you focus on the book's message or lesson? The characters? The pictures? When I gift a book, be it to a child or an adult, I always think first about how that book touched me, and I make a gift hoping the recipient will enjoy it in the same way I did. I hope it will build the same memories for them.
These are the top three children's books that created the most lasting impression on my childhood. This list is so much greater than three... and the books I discovered when I had my son would go on a completely different list... but this is a good start. If I was limited to share only three titles with the children in my life forever, these would the books I would choose. I hope you'll take the time to discover and share their wonderment with a young person in your life.
Santa Mouse by Michael Brown
This is one of my first memories of literature. I think I was about four when I first had this book read to me during the holidays. I can't remember if it was one that already lived on our shelves, or if it was a gift; but I remember the story very clearly. This is a wonderful tale of altruism demonstrated by a tiny little mouse thinking of someone far bigger then he, Santa Claus, and how perhaps Santa doesn't receive gifts on Christmas. The story, written in a simple rhyme that I had memorized by the third or fourth reading (and can still recite almost perfectly today), is about how the little mouse sets out to make it right. When Santa encounters the gift and is touched by the gesture, he asks the mouse his name, to thank him properly. But, the mouse doesn't have a name. So, Santa adopts him. He gives him a tiny little suit, and shiny black boots, and even a tiny little beard. In that moment, he is officially Santa Mouse, and spends the rest of his days spreading the joy of altruism throughout the holiday season. I remember that this book made a terrific impact on me because it made me clearly understand that no matter how small or inconsequential I thought I was... there was much good I could do, and the good I did wouldn't go unnoticed. This book had such an impact on my life that I shared it with my son and have given it as gifts more times than I can count. We still have a copy on our shelves to this day. When I was a child, we didn't have Elf on a Shelf to remind us of why kindness was important during the season; we had Santa Mouse!
Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel by Virginia Lee Burton
I love this book! In this story, a steam shovel, named MaryAnn becomes the center of attention as she digs the basement for the new city center/courthouse. As the story goes, the more people gather around to watch MaryAnn dig, the faster she digs. The result: she dug the basement in just one day! But... she dug so fast, and so well, she forgot to leave a ramp to get out once the digging was done. What to do? Retire, and become the furnace to keep the courthouse warm. A perfect solution. I love this story because it reminds us that tenacity is important... stick to it and get the job done. It also reminds us how important it is for us to be aware that we are always doing things that are an inspiration to others - even when we make mistakes. The mistake made doesn't need to hold us back from a comfortable and successful life. We get to choose how to realign our priorities and our understanding of the future. Even as a young child, these messages were well received. The trick, of course, is following through on them as an adult! I was crushed when this book was out of print for a while; but now it's back, and I will continue to gift it to children and adults alike. The message bears repeating, even in our older years. Tenacity is a trait to be embraced... and so is flexibility. Both hold outcomes that will enrich our lives.
The House At Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne
This is by far the one children's book that has stuck with me throughout all of the adventures (and misadventures) of my life. It was the first story I read to my son the day I brought him home from the hospital, and a small Pooh stuffed bear sat in the bassinet with him at the hospital just after his birth. He still has it. I love the Pooh stories because of the characters. They are rich and vibrant, and show us that simply being ourselves really is enough in this world. Pooh is simple, but wise. Owl is wise but needs nurturing. Eeyore is quiet and strong, even when alone. Tigger is filled with joy and still finds ways to learn. Kanga is tender and playful. Roo is eager to learn and always loyal. Rabbit is quick to take charge, and also quick to humility. Piglet is very tiny but more brave than all the rest; more brave than me, even. Christopher Robin was the key that allowed us into the secret forest. After that, it was out of his hands... and he was okay with that. Christopher was okay with not being the spotlight, he was ego-free; and happy because of it. Whenever I feel dislocated from my place in the world, I read a little bit of Pooh and somehow reconnect and become at ease with my insecurities and frustrations. Whenever anyone asks what book I'd like to be stranded with on an island in the middle of nowhere... this is the one I will always choose. These are my best friends.
Literacy is such a wonderful gift. Be sure to give your favorite books whenever you have the opportunity... to mark the milestones of birthdays, anniversaries, and graduation. Remember too, that books are the best "just because I was thinking of you" gift. Gift a book today. No excuse required.
What are your top three memorable children's books? Leave your list in the comments below.
It's a dilemma I face every year... buying a new journal/planner. I have a lot of stuff going on in my life, personally and professionally, and I have always needed a place to keep it all in order. Years ago, I only kept a daily journal in a basic "blank" book that I bought at the local bookshop. I had friends who used a really basic spiral notebook... but I liked the hardcover for durability. I found that simply writing in it every day, with reminders at the end of an entry about what needed to be done the next day, was sufficient. I was able to take my daily emotional and intellectual inventory, track goals, and remind myself of what I needed to do the next day. Super simple. It worked great for two and a half decades.
Then my son was born, and I began pursuing a more ambitious writing career. Time to find a better tool. I discovered the Franklin Planner, while working at a newspaper, and it worked quite well for several years. I was able to keep track of interviews, writing deadlines, family obligations, and my son's extra activities at school. My daily journal still worked well to keep track of emotional components, personal inventory, and goals. Two books to keep my life well ordered didn't seem excessive, especially because I generally used one during the day, and the other only at night.
Enter computers into my daily life, college, and the adventure of building my own businesses; three of them, over the years. Carrying around a laptop computer, AND a daily planner book, PLUS my daily journal felt like doing the work three times. I'm not a fan of redundancies, so, I shopped and shopped, trying several different styles of planners. Some worked, others didn't. I went digital for a while, and then back to paper. But frustration lingered because I still felt like I had too many tools, doing the work too many times over, and never truly finding an effective solution.
It's now 2019, soon to be 2020, and let's face it... I'm getting older. My tolerance for extraneous nonsense is dwindling. I have a husband whom I love to spend time with, books to read, books to write, a business to grow, my family is a constantly changing component to my existence... and I have dogs! At this point, I'm all about simplifying wherever possible and only focusing energy on what I really want in my life, not doing the work three times!
In October, I began shopping, again. The planner that I found and used last year worked well... but it was still too much work, and it didn't really have the daily emotional piece I was looking for. It was nice, just not perfect. I wanted a planner that would combine my daily journal work, daily personal inventory trackers to eliminate the need for long-winded entries, a system to track goals and progress on those goals, and a daily calendar to keep my professional responsibilities and appointments in a format that reduces stress. I searched both digital and printed formats for nearly a month... I couldn't find anything that met all of my needs and requirements.
Frustration can sometimes be the wizard of invention. Out of sheer shopping overwhelm (and a desire to spend as little money as possible), I sat down one weekend, and I made my own planner. From my experience with the Internet "window" shopping I did on Amazon and other websites beforehand, I figure I saved about $35.
Using Microsoft Excel, I made a monthly page, a weekly page, and a daily page. Each one contains all the aspects of recording, tracking, and managing my emotionally undulating, very busy life. I have a comb binding machine, which I obtained years ago when I was making training manuals, and bought some plastic "month tabs" from the office supply store. I grabbed a couple of pages of card stock and plastic overlays, and created my own cover... something that would remind me that I am in control and responsible for my own destiny - a mini vision board, essentially (see above). I put it all together, and was extremely pleased with the outcome.
The vision board piece is another thing I try to do every year, so it was helpful to have everything pulled together in a single resource that I could always carry around with me.
In December, I began my beta test. I wanted to start a month early on the off chance that I hated it and needed to actually buy something else. Just like with writing a new book, you never can tell how it's all going to turn out until you beta test it. It's printed on standard 8.5" x 11" paper, and fits neatly into my tablet briefcase or laptop backpack, so I can take it to meetings and events. No, it's not digital, and yes, I still keep my appointments in my Google calendar synchronized on my tablet, phone, and computer... but the simple fact that it allows me to contain, track, and reflect daily in a single book, is a huge step forward in stress reduction. The best thing about having DIY'd this project is that after using it for a year, I have the ability to tweak it... move things, eliminate things, add things, in any way that I find most effective. And, I don't have to spend a lot of money doing it!
Yup, frustration is indeed sometimes the motivator of creation.
Click the images below to see the detail of my planning pages.
I wasn't as interested in this one as I thought I'd be. The synopsis suggested that there would be more of a creepy factor than there was; yet still, the overall story was okay.
The layers that authors add to psychological thrillers is what draws me to the genre. Although this one has a couple that caught me off guard, it was a bit anti-climactic. The tension just wasn't there for me. The secret from the main character's past that I was hoping would be tremendously revealing, was that... but the problem was that it was revealed in the beginning of the book. A bit of a let down. Throughout the story, I suspected what was happening, and so when it turned out I was right, I wasn't as impressed as I wanted to be.
There was a particular subplot character, who I thought would be instrumental in the big reveal at the end, but that character wasn't explored or woven into the story line with the kind of depth that would have required. His character and underlying creepiness was there... but just peripherally. I would have liked to have him more involved with the final twist. In the end, he was an obvious red herring. The secondary characters were also less dynamic that I would have liked... they felt more like filler than impact - even the one that was supposed to be the motivational history.
The best thing about this story... The dog doesn't die!
According to GoodReads.com, this author is a popular writer, and I seem to be in the minority. This was my first read of her; and I'll give her another chance; but I'm guessing this novel isn't her finest work.
Treat yourself to to this book. It's a ghost story that well defines the genre.
This book was sincerely, "un-put-down-able". I was pulled into the story and didn't want to leave. The characters were rich and vibrant, even those who were more than a hundred years old. The storytelling was full in it's detail - and when necessary - just as strong in its withholding. There were times I felt precariously dangled from a cliff and other times I felt snuggled up warmly with the comfort of canine sentinels. As a Michigan resident, I felt quite at home with Halcyon and her family's house. I have a very strong urge now, to visit the island to seek out the places... emotional and physical, real and imagined.
I listened to the audio book version. The narrator was exquisite in captivating story, character, and the intent of the author. Her cadence and rhythm were spot on... the only error I found was the single mispronunciation of 'Mackinac' (she's probably not a Michigan native).
This story was pretty much all-consuming for me from the time I started with page one, until the last word. Wow! From the synopsis, I thought this was going to be an interesting read, and I was not disappointed. A psychological thriller with so many twists and turns, and and ending that, literally, I had to read TWICE... this is a book not be missed if you enjoy the genre.
At every new chapter, I had a clear understanding of what was happening. My sympathies were in line with the right characters, and I was, just like the narrator, confused and beyond curious about the motives behind such an unspeakable act. As the story progressed, it made sense that the patient would want to remain silent. The story was confusing for her, too. Anything she would have to say wouldn't fit; in her mind, nor in anyone else's.
The subplot characters made perfect sense. Their motives were beyond reproachful understanding, although at times, I thought they should have or could have done more to save the victim... or at the very least, offer a bit of stronger protection. One detail that certainly drew me in was the introduction of the patient's journal and artwork. What Mr. Michaelides does with those two plot devices, how he intertwines them, working them into the main plot line, is extraordinary.
When, at the last couple of chapters, my understanding of EVERYTHING in this story became unraveled, I had no where to turn for answers. I discovered that my logical brain had stepped out, and I simply couldn't make sense of it all on my own. I had to wait for the author to give me the final clues, and the final confession. This story is so well crafted. The confession offered, veiled, unmasked, and in the end, turned inside out. It's a book that had me staring off into space at the end of the last sentence, trying so hard to remember every detail, and figure out how I had missed so much along the way. It is an "oh my goodness, but that's good," kind of ending.
This book is super popular, and with good reason. This is a debut novel from Mr. Michaelides (although he's written successfully for film); and I hope, and hope again, that he will write more!
At just 103 pages, this isn't an awful novella. If you're interested in the vampire vein of storytelling (see what I did there), you'll enjoy this one. The thing I found most interesting is that it reminded me of Shakespeare''s writing. Okay, now you're wondering how I made that leap, aren't you? Well, in this tale, the two main characters, Carmilla and Laura have a very intense, um, friendship. Much like in Shakespeare's stories, same sex intensity doesn't seem to phase anyone. The dialogue is intimate and melodramatic, and there seems to be a lot more physical sensuality than one might expect for a book written in this period; 1872.
The other thing that struck me is that none of the characters seemed overly shocked by the news of a vampire in their midst. No doubting Thomas' and no questions of the scientific minds that make the suggestion that this might, indeed, be the logical conclusion to the mystery. I don't know about you, but "logic" and "vampire" (unless its "vampire bat") aren't usually heard in the same conversation among friends who are medical professionals. Authors, perhaps; but usually not physicians. The fact that nobody questions this as an option, except for a rival physician who is trying to protect his own reputation, strikes me as odd.
All in all, it's an entertaining story, mostly because this time, the vampire is a woman - not usually something you see in Gothic tales written from this time period. I suppose feminism is older than we thought. Would I recommend it? Sure, if you need something to tie up a few free hours. But it wasn't really something I'd rave about. It was just okay. I'm sure it would be a good foundation or as research material if you're interested in writing a vampire story.
So, when I first came across this book, I wasn't going to read it. I was one of the few people on the planet who was not overly impressed with Ms. Meyer's "Twilight" series. But after a few months of watching it continue to show up on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided that I should give it a try. I'm pleased that I did.
As a complete departure from her previous work (with the exception that her book revolves around a female lead), it seemed to me that the author had matured a great deal in her writing. The subject matter was very different, and the approach to characters and their choices, for me, seemed different, too. This was a "real life" story, with a plausible set of characters, skill sets, and motivations. Even their flaws seemed much more realistic.
The tension was well delivered, on a good balance with the romance, and mystery elements. The love story was slow, deliberate, and intentional - much closer to real life than vampires and werewolves, for my tastes. I enjoyed the clandestine elements, and the "spy vs spy" with just the right number of innocents added to the mix to make it intelligent.
I think that Ms. Myers has come a long way in her storytelling acumen with this novel - though I believe, and hope, that she continues to write and do better.
***Spoiler: I'm NOT impressed with the death of the dogs! I understand it's probably what would have happened - but I still didn't enjoy reading those passages.
One of the best things about being friends with authors is that you get to glimpse tiny little pieces of them through their writing that, often times, they don't reveal in public. Such is the case with my friend and Indie Author, Peggy Christie. If you met Peggy out in real life, you would come to the conclusion that she's a brilliant, kind-hearted, creative, and super-fun person. All of that is true. But... she's also got an overwhelmingly creepy side!
I offer as evidence, her latest short story collection, Dark Doorways. This is a superb romp through the underlying imagination that can make you think, "yes, maybe that's how it works", while simultaneously thinking, "wow... I hope that's not how it works."
This collection brilliantly mixes short story, poetry, and flash fiction together in a wound that sometimes coagulates, and sometimes continues to bleed; depending on how much you want to think about it. The book begins with a literal telling of what might happen if you found yourself "Knocking On Death's Door". I almost burned dinner on the grill one night because I was too distracted. That's twice that's happened - I think I need to stop reading books while I tend the dinner.
"HR" was a piece that I read while sitting at the hospital laboratory, waiting for blood work for an upcoming surgery. The story made me think a little bit deeper into the abbreviations one encounters while doing every-day things... in every-day places. It was a little unnerving. Thanks, Peggy!
"Bending Space" was a weird tale that tugged at the remnants of old ghost stories told around Girl Scout campfires in days past. I thought I knew where it was going... really, I did. I thought I understood the stakes, what the character would find in the end. And then, WHAM! Peggy hit me in the end with that thing I hated in Girl Scouts... an eerie lingering. Stop with the goose bumps and the little hairs standing up on the back of my neck, already, will you PLEASE!
Yes, this is a great book. No I'm not saying that just because we're friends. This is a GREAT book. Just... maybe... don't read it if you're at a hospital lab, waiting to have your blood drawn.
Thank you, Christie, for pulling back the fourth wall of your brain for us.
Watch my interview with Peggy Christie on Indie Reads TV, where we talk about this book and her writing career.
Visit Peggy Christie's website HERE.
I found this a very entertaining read... an alternate origin story set in present time with present-day technology, with a vibrant, though not overbearing flashback to get you going. This book, subtitled, "A Technothriller", pulled me in the moment I read the tag at the top of the cover. "Hell is about to break loose... for real". And, of course, the cover art helped, too. Creepy and impossible to ignore.
This book has so many wondrous little twists and turns, it's extremely difficult to put down. Fast paced, and with a set-up at the beginning that doesn't mire the story foundation in too many details, it's a fascinating read. This is one of those stories that makes you wonder... maybe. It's also one of those stories you know the Alien Astronaut Conspiracy Theorists would LOVE! Just enough science to make it plausible... just enough fiction to make it fun.
The characters are multi-layered, with their own agendas, sometimes intersecting for mutual benefit, sometimes not. There were a couple of characters, in fact, that I thought I could count on to be stable and reliable... and then, suddenly, they weren't. It was like hot chocolate with a little kick of brandy; really delicious and a bit misleading after half a cup.
I'm not blown away by the subplot "minions". I think the main antagonist with his "special" gifts would have been enough. But I also understand why the author needed to infuse them into the story. They expanded each individual character arc while simultaneously adding a physicality the story needed, given that the tension had to be controlled in a single location. It might have been overdone in a few places... just a tad... but in the end, it worked.
There's an insidiousness to this story that offers to question religious dogma, while also shining a big spotlight on the motives of humanity and the drives that underlie everything we do. Does altruism really exist... could it... ever... on any level? Be careful what you wish for, you may get it; and the price may be more than you're willing to pay. The biggest problem is, the invoice comes thirty days later, with no returns.
Part science fiction, part religious tumult, part love story, this book is a unique ride. It is more "technohorror", I think than "technothriller". A large measure of Creepy with a generous side of Bloody Gore is indeed the driving force in this one. Not enough blood to make me turn my head... just enough to make me keep watching.
Now my challenge... to read the other five books in the series. There I go... sucked in to another series. Thankfully, this one doesn't necessarily need to be read in order!
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