John Walters's Blog, page 28

The Days It Doesn’t Happen

Every writer has a different approach to the process of putting words on paper. Some who write long novels or major works of nonfiction prepare backgrounds or research for months or even years and then binge-write until the work is completed. Afterwards it may be many months before they put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard again. This doesn’t work for me; I enjoy writing too much. I don’t like to let a day pass without transcribing the thoughts in my head and the emotions in my heart. For this reason I prefer the methodical approach of a minimum daily word count, and I have kept to this system for decades.

During this period of my writing career, I adhere to a minimum count of five hundred words per day. I maintain this habit, with pleasure, seven days a week. Occasionally urgent life events intrude that make it impossible for me to sit down at a keyboard. When this happens, I don’t get all bent out of shape or force myself to double my word count the following day. I simply carry on when I am able with the five hundred words or more. However, what happens when I complete a piece of writing the day before and then I have to start fresh the following day? This comes up frequently because I write literary works of all lengths: novels, memoirs, novellas, novelettes, short stories, and flash fiction. Obviously it is easier to dive in and compose a minimum word count on a longer work that has already been initiated, but I am particularly fond of writing short stories. This means that I frequently need new ideas.

I try to plan for this by jotting down random ideas in a special file. When I encounter the need to begin a new project and I don’t have anything specific in mind, I peruse this list and see if anything ignites my curiosity and imagination. If nothing does, though, I have a few options. In a perfect world where money is not a problem, I might spend the day attempting various methods of jumpstarting my imagination, but in the real world, I have to go on to ghostwrite another one or two thousand more words of blog posts or articles for which I receive quick payment.

Sometimes I simply give myself a day or two to come up with a solid new idea. There’s almost always a moment of despair after I finish what I consider a good piece of writing when I wonder how I will ever come up with a new idea again. However, that feeling quickly passes when I realize that my imagination and creativity have never failed me yet, and they won’t this time either. Sometimes, depending on my schedule and circumstances, I might make another attempt at the five hundred words in the afternoon or evening. Sometimes this works, and sometimes it doesn’t. The main thing I have to keep in mind in these situations is that this is not writer’s block. I am simply finding first gear so I can once again get moving. That initial phrase or sentence can be the spark that ignites the conflagration of a whole new work.

Sometimes I will get a few thousand words into a new story and then be unable to proceed. That’s okay too. I put these incomplete stories aside and come back to them later. Sometimes I am able to continue and complete the story, while other times I realize that the fragment is a dead end. It doesn’t matter. More often than not I finish what I start and am pleased with my work. Maintaining a steady continual flow of words works well for me. If that flow is occasionally interrupted, I am disappointed, but I also accept the inevitability of these interruptions, cast about for what’s next, seize the next idea, and carry on.

Book Review: The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Volume 2 Edited by Jonathan Straham

This is the second year of Strahan’s new best of the year science fiction anthology series, one that he has deliberately modeled after the late Gardner Dozois’s classic decades-long series. (Strahan acknowledges Dozois in the introduction.) With all respect to Dozois, who was one of the greatest speculative fiction editors of all time, this series has some distinct advantages over the previous one, at least in format. Strahan has decided not to include novellas, but instead sticks to short stories and novelettes. I think this is a wise decision. It makes the book shorter (although this volume is still almost six hundred pages) and easier to physically manage; and most importantly, it is in a larger more readable font. Like Dozois’s, it includes a roundup of the year’s news in science fiction writing and publishing, which you can read or skip depending on whether keeping up with such things is important to you.

In this anthology you’ll find Strahan’s selection of what he considers the best science fiction stories that were published in the year 2020. Of course, any such selection of stories is a subjective appraisal of the field. I usually read two or three best of the year anthologies of science fiction and fantasy when they come out, and I am always struck by the fact that there are very few matches. Each editor has their own ideas about what constitutes the best writing in the field.

One distinction of this anthology is that I managed to get through every story from beginning to end. Usually when I am reading anthologies I find a few stories that I just can’t get into and skip over; not so in this one. That said, I have to add that though some stories are very good, none of them absolutely blast me away with their brilliance. Have I become jaded and spoiled by the standard by which I measure every story I read: the genre-shattering brilliant stories of New Wave writers of the late 1960s and 1970s? I don’t know.

In this anthology I was surprised at the number of stories of cute and clever robots, which except for a few modern embellishments might have been at home in Golden Age science fiction anthologies of the 1950s. At the other end of the spectrum, there are some cutting edge stories that showcase the recent emphasis on the writing and publishing of African American speculative fiction. For instance, “The Transition of OSOOSI” by Ozzie M. Gartrell is an excellent story of hackers that create new types of virtual superheroes to bring about social change. “How to Pay Reparations: A Documentary” by Tochi Onyebuchi is exactly what the title suggests: a description of a fictional documentary of the social and financial implications when one city votes to distribute reparations to its African American residents.

Although the robot stories provide light entertainment, the most profound stories are those that deal with human situations and emotions. A good example is “The Bahrain Underground Bazaar” by Nadia Afifi, which concerns an old woman obsessed with her imminent death who comes to realize that her obsession is hurting beloved family members. Another touching story is “An Important Failure” by Rebecca Campbell, which tells of a violin maker striving to find the right wood to create an instrument fit for a virtuoso in a world decimated by global warming. Rich Larsen is a writer who seldom disappoints; in “How Quini the Squid Misplaced His Klobucar” he gives us a gritty heist story whose characters have deep heartfelt motivations. “Sparklybits” by Nick Wolven is a wonderful observation on parenthood. Other fine stories that effectively combine deep human emotion with the wonder of provocative ideas include “Yellow and the Perception of Reality” by Maureen McHugh and “The Mermaid Astronaut” by Yoon Ha Lee.

In conclusion, this is an entertaining anthology; whether you like light humorous fare, incisive social commentary, tense action, or heartfelt emotion, you’ll find something to please you.

Book Review: Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead

The two books of Colson Whitehead’s that I have read previous to this one, The Underground Railroad and The Nickel Boys, have been exciting and original works of fiction, and both, incidentally, have won the Pulitzer Prize. Along with his newest novel, Harlem Shuffle, they are all set in some form of the historical past. The Underground Railroad takes place in an alternate history in which the railroad is an actual physical railroad instead of a series of hideaways and routes that would transport escaped slaves to freedom in the 19th century. The Nickel Boys, which takes place in the 1960s, is based on a real reformatory in Florida that was rife with abuse, torture, and death; after it closed the remains of many students were found on the grounds in unmarked graves. And now, with Harlem Shuffle, Whitehead gives us an inside look at Harlem as it was in the late 1950s and early 1960s.

The main character, a man named Ray Carney, manages to survive while balancing interactions in the honest and dishonest sides of Harlem’s milieu. Ostensibly he is an upstanding businessman with a thriving furniture store catering to black clientele. He keeps up with the latest designs and models and is always striving to introduce new product lines into his showroom. He is also, however, a fence of stolen goods. He’ll take in “gently used” televisions, appliances, and other items that have obviously been stolen; he also has contacts to dispose of jewelry, coins, and other more expensive items. His wife Elizabeth, who works at a travel agency specializing in helping African Americans find safe places to vacation, has no idea of the shadier side of Carney’s business. His cousin Freddie is a ne’er-do-well who invites trouble along wherever he goes. There is also an extensive cast of fascinating supporting characters.

The book is split into three parts. The first part takes place in 1959 and concerns a robbery Freddie is involved in that goes amiss; Carney attempts to get him out of trouble by fencing some jewels Freddie has stolen. The second part happens in 1961. A crooked banker swindles Carney out of some money, and Carney concocts an elaborate scheme of revenge. To pull it off, though, he needs to enlist the assistance of various members of the Harlem underworld. The third part also has to do with a jewel theft, and it takes place just after the Harlem riot of 1964.

Although there are exciting scenes and tense situations, these are secondary to Whitehead’s accomplishment of bringing the Harlem of the fifties and sixties alive through the viewpoints of his characters. Telling the story through three incidents taking place in different years creates a complex, multilayered effect that allows readers to grasp what life was like for black residents of Harlem back then – the opposition that they faced from the white community and what they had to go through to survive.

Colson Whitehead is an excellent writer. Pulitzer Prizes for one novel after the other make for a hard act to follow, but this book does not disappoint. It is exciting, fun, touching, tragic, intense, and profound.

Book Review: Forever Young: A Memoir by Hayley Mills

Although I was significantly younger than either of them, my two biggest film star crushes when I was a child were Judy Garland and Hayley Mills. Judy Garland, of course, I knew as the vulnerable but determined young woman wandering through a fantasy land and longing to get back to her home in Kansas in The Wizard of Oz; this movie appeared as a special on TV almost every year when I was young. Hayley Mills was Disney’s most famous child star, first appearing in Pollyanna, and then in a string of other films. When my siblings and I were young, our parents would only let us go to films that were made by Disney; they figured that if the wholesome Disney Studios made them, they must be safe. So we had a lot of exposure to Hayley Mills, who also appeared in the original version of The Parent Trap, In Search of the Castaways, Summer Magic, The Moon-Spinners, and That Darn Cat, all for Disney. An interesting side note: after prolonged persuasion, our parents finally broke down and decided to allow the older kids to see the new James Bond film Thunderball. However, when my father drove us downtown, we found out that the box office line of people waiting to get into Thunderball was wrapped around an entire city block; we ended up having to make a substitute, so we went to see Hayley Mills in That Darn Cat instead.

In this memoir, Mills looks back on her early filmmaking years, especially when she was under contract to Disney, from the perspective of a woman now in her seventies. She writes in a sweet and lucid style, casual but detailed. When she was an adolescent and through her teen years, she was famous throughout the world; she even won a special Academy Award for her performance in Pollyanna. I was talking with one of my adult sons, though, and telling him about this memoir, and he admitted that he had never heard of Hayley Mills, and the only one of her movies he’d heard of was The Parent Trap – only he had not seen the original but the remake with Lindsay Lohan.

Hayley Mills is the daughter of the famous British actor John Mills, who won an Academy Award for his performance in Ryan’s Daughter. Hayley had no ambitions to be an actor, and her first appearance in films came about by accident. She was playing in the garden with her younger brother one day while her father was having a discussion with a producer/director about the need to cast an exceptional male child actor for an upcoming film. Watching Hayley, the producer decided on the spot to change the boy into a girl in the script and cast Hayley instead. This was an independent British film called Tiger Bay. When Walt Disney saw it, he became determined to cast Hayley in his new production of Pollyanna. He offered Hayley a studio contract for multiple pictures which her parents initially turned down. They only agreed to let Hayley sign on when Disney also guaranteed John Mills the leading role in Swiss Family Robinson.

The book emphasizes the difficulties that child stars undergo. Although Hayley readily took to acting and usually enjoyed it, she was subject to fits of insecurity and despondency. As she grew older, she also became self-conscious about her weight and for a time she was bulimic, binge eating and then throwing up. When she was twenty years old, she married a producer/director who was thirty-two years older than she was; the marriage only lasted a few years before divorce. Another tragedy that befell her around the same time was the loss of the trust fund that had been set up to hold her earnings until she turned twenty-one. After a years-long court battle, the British Treasury took almost everything, taxing the entire trust fund at over ninety percent and then adding on extra legal fees.

To accompany the reading of this book, I watched a couple of Hayley’s old movies on Disney Plus. The Moon-Spinners is a thriller about a jewel theft set in Crete; it’s the first Disney film in which Hayley has a romantic interest. However, it’s rather bland and unexciting by today’s standards. The original version of The Parent Trap, though, is well-acted, well-paced, and funny, even by modern standards. It made me wonder why they bothered with a remake.

This memoir may appeal mostly to Baby Boomers who remember Hayley Mills, but for people of all ages it provides a fascinating glimpse into Hollywood, the Disney Studios, and filmmaking in general in the 1950s and 1960s.

“Alchemy” in The Martian Wave

My short story “Alchemy” has just been published in the October 2021 edition of The Martian Wave, a magazine that, according to its website, “presents original science fiction stories about the exploration and settlement of other worlds.” My story concerns two colonists who meet on Mars and marry. Because of the harsh environmental conditions on Mars, pregnancy is against regulations, so when the woman conceives, the couple is expelled from the colony and sent back to Earth to have the child. The writing of “Alchemy” involved much more research than is necessary for most of my stories, but the contrast in environments between Earth and Mars was so important that I wanted to get the details right.

Copies of the magazine are available on the publisher’s website here.

Book Review: Never Say You Can’t Survive by Charlie Jane Anders

This is a slim volume consisting of a series of essays that first appeared on the Tor.com website. Its premise is that writing fiction, particularly science fiction and fantasy, can help you survive in the midst of the shit storm of the global pandemic. To remain sane despite the chaos, polarization, isolation, and death that COVID has brought to the world, you can create new worlds in your imagination. It’s a valid point, and Anders makes it well. Once this point is established, the rest of the book is a mix of writing advice and memoir.

Anders is an award-winning science fiction and fantasy writer, and she dispenses her advice in a light-hearted and fun style. She goes into the nuts-and-bolts of plot, theme, structure, word choice, and so on, and suggests various writing exercises for beginners, but for me the most interesting parts of the book deal with the more motivational aspects of writing. For instance, she emphasizes that there is not some sort of special initiation or rite of passage that makes you a writer. You are a writer if you write; that’s all there is to it. And she writes about the dread imposter syndrome, a malady that afflicts almost all writers; this is the feeling that you are unworthy of being a writer and nobody will ever care about what you have written. Even famous writers become oppressed by imposter syndrome; according to Anders, one thing that helps you get past it is finding a community of like-minded people so that you can reinforce each other.

Another extremely important point that Anders touches on is that there are no rules in writing. None. And nobody should ever try to restrict you by saying that there are. You should write whatever you like however you like, and to hell with the nay-sayers. It reminds me of a time a couple of decades ago when I got fed up with rejections and decided to forget what I thought editors might like and write whatever I wanted. I composed a story that alternated between second person present tense and third person past tense and near the end shifted from fixed sentences and paragraphs into pictures and patterns comprised of words. I sold that story almost as soon as I sent it out, and for more money than I had ever received for a story at that time.

Anders goes into her method of writing a novel, and this is what I meant when I mentioned that part of the book is memoir rather than practical advice, because I don’t think that I could ever finish a book using her techniques. (Remember what I wrote above about there being no rules. Use whatever works for you.) Anders likes to quickly write rough drafts, jigsaw puzzle them together, and then add and subtract scenes and nuances in revision after revision after revision. That’s not how I work. I would make a mess of such a method and lose interest long before I was done. Instead, I go through all these permutations, but in my mind and in rough notes before I begin to compose the first and often final draft. I write a certain number of words a day, and the following day I go over the previous day’s work, revising and re-familiarizing myself with what I have done. By the time I am finished, I may make a few changes as I go through a final revision, but the story is usually fully formed. In other words, write however you want to write. That’s part of the fun.

Another section of this book that I found absorbing and helpful deals with writing about the cultures and experiences of others. This has become quite a hot topic nowadays, and Anders points out that as with other controversial issues, there is a balance. It may not be appropriate for you to write about another culture as if you were part of it, but it is certainly desirable to be inclusive when you select characters that appear in your story. Anders suggests using sensitivity readers to be sure you are getting things right. In my own situation, not long ago I felt the need for a sensitivity reader for a story I had set in the Deep South in the 1950s. Through Science Fiction Writers of America, I managed to find a well-known African American writer who assured me that the story was inoffensive.

All in all, this is a light, fun book full of interesting anecdotes and advice. The premise that writing or some other form of creative endeavor can help you get through hard times is certainly valid. One of the most important points, though, is that there are no rules. As far as the practical advice is concerned, take what you need and ignore the rest.

Book Review: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain

In a phone conversation one of my sisters and I were discussing which of our brothers, sisters, and progeny were extroverts and which were introverts when she brought up this book, Quiet, and recommended it. I had never heard of it, but upon conducting a bit of initial research I found out that it was quite famous and possibly would be an interesting read. I don’t go much for books of popular psychology offering self-help remedies that will supposedly cure personal and societal ills; however, this one is well researched and offers insight into the vital role of introverts in a world that applauds and sometimes worships extroversion.

I definitely fall onto the introverted side of the ledger. I love reading, writing, and other contemplative activities and have a difficult time, COVID aside, getting out to socialize, especially if I am going to be plunged into a roomful of people I don’t know. This hindered my maturation through elementary school, high school, and my one year of college. I found it all but impossible to be gregarious and outgoing; as a result, my friends were few. At my high school in particular, a large emphasis was put on the cult of the macho sportsman. To be popular, you had to be a football or basketball player, strut around in your letterman’s jacket, and talk boisterously in the hallways. Quiet guys like me never had a chance.

It wasn’t just at my high school, though; it remains a national phenomenon. Cain calls it the extrovert ideal, and more than other countries, the United States is obsessed with it. The most successful individuals are supposed to be assertive, dominant, forceful, brash, and outgoing. Although they are often reprehensible individuals, these are the leaders we supposedly should look up to. The quiet ones, although they may be more intelligent and have brilliant ideas, are relegated to second class citizenship, to the roles of followers, sycophants, and acolytes.

The first part of Quiet, in fact, is taken up with an analysis of the extrovert ideal. Cain then explores studies concerning the relationship of biology to introversion and extroversion. There is also a section on the role of introversion and extroversion in various cultures; in particular Cain compares the blatant extroversion inherent in U.S. culture with the quieter, more thoughtful, and more respectful cultures of Asia. And finally, Cain goes into suggestions on how introverts can not only survive but thrive in societies that favor extroversion.

As I was reading this book, I wondered how I, as an introvert, ever managed to break free of my torpor, leave my hometown and my native country, travel the world, and meet new friends and acquaintances from many diverse countries and cultures. Cain provides an answer to this seeming paradox in the so-called Free Trait Theory. According to this theory, we are born with certain personality traits such as introversion, but we can overcome these and act out of character, as extroverts in other words, in the pursuit of core personal projects. These are things that you consider so important that you are able, at least temporarily, to overcome your introversion. They may include loved ones, important work, or anything else you place great value upon. In my case, I wanted to be a writer more than anything else in the world, but I felt stifled and inexperienced at home; I felt that I had to go out and live life and have adventures so that I could have something worth writing about. This gave me the impetus to overcome my introversion and get out there. I was willing to overcome my timidity and leap into the void of the unknown in pursuit of my dream.

In closing, let me emphasize that this book is not only for introverts. Extroverts can benefit from the insights Cain offers as well. It will help them realize that it is delusional to think that extroverts form some sort of hierarchy. The important thing is to bridge the gap and create an understanding that will allow families, societies, and cultures to benefit from both personality types.

Reviews and Reflections on Books, Literature, and Writing: Volume Two – Now Available!

The second volume of Reviews and Reflections on Books, Literature, and Writing is now available at numerous retailers. Pick up a copy by clicking on one of the links below.

From the author’s introduction:

Preparing the second volume of Reviews and Reflections on Books, Literature, and Writing has caused me to think about the role not only of reading books but also of writing book reviews in my life. To write about the thoughts and impressions brought about by a book is as valid as writing about a physical journey that I take to another location. The author of the book serves as my traveling companion.

Because of the inevitably profound effect that books have on me, I have to be careful about what books I read. If you are what you eat, physically, then you are what you read, mentally. I try to select books that entertain me and also nourish and strengthen me mentally and emotionally.

Among the multitudes of books I have read in my lifetime, some of my particular favorites have been books about books. Why? Because they make the task of finding new reading material easier. I read them eagerly, pen and paper nearby, and make new lists of books I have not yet discovered, realms of thought I have not yet explored. That’s one of the delights of this present volume, part two of Reviews and Reflections. Consider it a guidebook to point the way on your own journeys of discovery.

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Book Review: The Adventurer’s Son by Roman Dial

This memoir tells of a father’s search for his missing son, and I can acutely identify with it in a number of ways. First of all, I am also a father. The author of this book has one son; I have five, and it rends my heart whenever anything adverse happens to any of them. Additionally, just as the author of this book and his son, I have traveled to remote places of the world in search of adventure, exotic experiences, and personal fulfillment.

The term “adventurer” in the title is a bit garish; it was probably tacked on by the publisher. It means that the author engages in and enjoys outdoor activities such as mountain climbing, whitewater rafting, hiking, and exploring wilderness areas. He imparted this love of adventure and exploration to his son Cody Roman Dial, who disappeared while on a solo jungle trek in Costa Rica. After two years of searching, Dial found his son’s remains and belongings beside a remote stream; he had apparently died of snakebite or from a fallen tree. I’m not giving anything away by telling you this; it is clear from the blurbs and reviewer’s comments on the book’s cover.

The story is told in three parts. In the first part, Dial writes of meeting his wife Peggy while attending university in Alaska, getting married, having children, and taking his son and daughter on excursions and scientific expeditions to mountains, glacial fields, the Aleutian Islands, Borneo, and other locations. This instilled in his son Cody a love of travel and outdoor activities.

The second section, which Dial culled from Cody’s diaries and journals, tells of Cody’s journey through Central America. He reveals Cody’s penchant for traveling alone, without guides, relying only on his compass, maps, and instincts. I could empathize with the desire to travel alone and without a specific itinerary, letting the locations and circumstances influence decision-making. I did the same when I took off on the road back in the 1970s, hitchhiking and taking local transport across the United States, around Europe, across the Middle East, and around the Indian Subcontinent. When I hiked into the Himalayas in Nepal, I had no map, no guide, and no clear idea where I was going other than upward into the mountains. However, other side-trips I contemplated but abandoned as too dangerous. In Afghanistan I wanted to hike alone through the Hindu Kush mountains, but that would have been suicidal. In Pakistan, another traveler and I conceived the idea of taking a boat down the Indus River to see the sights; fortunately, when we arrived in Multan, the town where we planned to commence our river journey, the unfriendliness of the locals caused us to reconsider our plans. In a way, though, Cody seemed to have all but invited tragedy by his clear disregard for danger, going alone into areas where drug smuggling was common and deadly poisonous snakes were rampant. Eventually he vanished after he emailed his intention to head into dense jungle in a Costa Rican national park which strictly forbad entry without a qualified guide. He had to circumvent authorities and sneak into the park; this, I felt, was taking the urge for independent adventuring too far.

The third part of the memoir recounts Dial’s search for his son. As soon as he realized his son was overdue, he flew to Costa Rica with the intention of following him into the jungle and finding him. However, he encountered a lot of resistance from authorities. The area was, after all, restricted, and the Costa Ricans wanted to conduct the search on their own terms. Over a two-year span, Dial and his wife involved friends, scientists, explorers, mercenaries, state and federal politicians, the FBI, the State Department, and even a reality TV show that came down and concocted a sensational mini-series that attempted to prove that Cody was a victim of foul play.

Overall, this is an absorbing and compelling story, although sometimes in the long third section it gets into descriptions of going to one place and nothing happens, and then going to another place and nothing happens, and so on. It effectively emphasizes the frustration of the search but sometimes becomes a bit repetitive. All in all, though, this is an absorbing, heartfelt story with which any parent can identify.

Book Review: The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead

In his Pulitzer Prize-winning novel The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead turned the phenomenon of oppressed and traumatized African American slaves fleeing the South before the Civil War into compelling alternative history. The fantasy elements include a literal physical railroad system hidden beneath the ground in tunnels. However, this speculative departure from reality does not cause readers to become removed from the horrors of slavery that Whitehead depicts. The actions of his characters are based upon the accounts of real escaped slaves, and the descriptions of torture, flight, pursuit, and redemption are immediate and visceral.

In The Nickel Boys, except for creating fictional characters, Whitehead eschews fantastical elements and sticks close to the realities that inspired his novel. It is based on the Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys, also known as the Florida School for Boys, which was a reform school that existed from early 1900 until 2011, when the state of Florida closed it down after an investigation that uncovered an unbelievable number of unmarked graves of former residents on its grounds.

Whitehead’s novel alternates between modern times and the 1960s. A literate, idealistic young African American high school student named Elwood Curtis is arrested when he inadvertently hitchhikes a ride with a man who has stolen a car. He is sent to Nickel Academy, a reform school with a segregated campus where whites and blacks alike are tortured and even murdered to keep them in line. It is run by a sadistic man named Spencer who enjoys nothing better than to haul misbehaving students off to a special site known as the White Room and beat them bloody with a special leather strap. After these sessions, some students wind up dead, while others are relegated to the facility’s hospital, where the resident doctor’s cure for everything is a couple of aspirin. The weaker students are raped by predatory staff members, and the administration routinely confiscates the best food and supplies designated for the school by the state to sell off to local merchants.

The present-day parts of the novel take place as the school’s abuses are finally being uncovered and exposed by investigators. We see how the horrific trauma that one of the former residents underwent has followed him in haunting memories and nightmares. He is faced with the decision of whether to keep silent and remain hidden or tell his stories for his own sake and the sake of others who never made it out alive. There is a heartbreakingly poignant twist at the end that I will not reveal; I will only say that it is set up superbly and slams home the author’s message with overwhelming emotional intensity.

When I first heard of this book I did not read it because I thought I might not be able to handle the descriptions of atrocities. There are atrocities throughout, yes, and Whitehead does not shy away from shining a spotlight on them, but the story is so well told and the characters inspire so much empathy that as a reader I was able to get past these gruesome details. That is the power of art: it is able to take a terrible chapter of human history such as this and somehow convert it into a thing of beauty. Whitehead accomplishes that in this novel.