David Odle's Blog, page 2

The Last Day

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The Last Day by David Odle

Previously published in Strange Fictions Zine 2017.

People try to run, but freedom eludes us. Every road is blocked since both bridges were blown last spring.

I don’t have enough gasoline to attempt an escape. If I did, God help me, I’d at least try, but automobiles are now lifeless vestiges of a world that once was. Now we wait solemnly for the heavy drone of aircraft engines to pass overhead. Surrendering to death ushers despair; a sense of failure mostly, and wrongness, just so wrong. My brain won’t abandon the idea of running. Just grabbing up my kids and running like crazy until we reach the woods, and then running more. But to where? Some claim the poison is painless and merciful. You just go to sleep. I pray that’s true.

My wife, Tammy, gazes skyward. Her tear-filled eyes reflect the day’s waning light. My two young children sense that something ominous looms over us. I can tell by the way they stop and gaze pleadingly from dirty faces, as if to ask, You won’t let them hurt us, will you? All I can do is stand helpless in the dead lawn.

Tammy asks, “Do you think we’ll taste it?”

I can’t answer. I don’t know. I wrap my arm around her thin shoulders. 

She cries then. Her starved body trembles. 

I cry, too. God help me, it’s all I can do.

I catch the tears streaming down my daughter’s cheeks and my eyes dart away. Ashamed. Her innocent face—all of seven-years-old—accuses me, and asks for protection I can’t provide. She reminds me so much of Tammy with her hazel eyes.

The first flake, fat and white, drifts past my face and I stare stupidly until it lands lifeless on the asphalt. How long does it take to work? The sun has fallen below the treetops and only the orange horizon remains of this day… our last day. More flakes float weightlessly to the earth. Tammy’s face remains buried against my chest.     

I have to tell her, but can’t draw the words into my throat. My nine-year-old son cries, “It’s here! The poison’s here!” We’d heard about the poison from drifters—about how it was being spread across the countryside. They told us how it works and how it looks like snow.

Tammy’s head jerks up, her eyes wide. “I didn’t hear the planes!”

“No,” I don’t bother to scan the skies. “Nothing.”

Across the road, our elderly neighbors trudge out their front door, hand in hand, and ease themselves into their old porch swing. Both of them tilt their heads skyward and watch the poison fall. Their pensive expressions say what I feel; time to sleep. Just sleep and sleep.

I grasp Tammy’s hand. Our eyes meet and sorrow lingers heavily between us. We had this discussion already and agreed on what we’d do when the poison fell. Before the war, life blossomed and the faintest memories still hovered over us. What seemed like an eternity ago, my father and I bought an old tractor-tire from the junkyard out in Kramer. He’d smiled proudly and said with his hands on his hips, “Fill this thing with sand and you’ll keep them kids busy for hours.” Oh, how right he’d been. Then the war started and swept away all things good. Just yesterday, when the emergency relief station broadcasted that the poison was coming, Tammy and I agreed that we'd take the kids and just lie down in that dirty old tractor-tire and go to sleep, closing off the misery of this rotting world forever.

Tammy cries as she holds out her hands to our kids. “Time to go, my angels.” Her stuffy voice hurts me; I don’t know if it’s my heart or something more powerful that aches at her sadness. My mind teeters on panic, and I think, The basement… we could get in the basement. Maybe the poison can’t get in there. But of course, it can. We’ve already heard that it permeates everything and actually makes death longer and more laborious if you try to hide from it.

Our children drop their toys, not making a fuss or even attempting to argue. Sometimes kids just know when something bad is happening. We make our way slowly to the back yard as darkness settles in. 

The poison cascades down in droves, dusting the ground and alighting softly in my wife’s hair. I flick it out. It's hard to breathe normally. But I try.

I glance up at the dark sky as we reach the tire. The black dot of an aircraft high in the air drifts across, a tiny silhouette shadowed against a star-splattered night. Then I hear it, so faint. That horrid drone. We saw a lot of planes right after the war started. That was before the power went out and everyone thought we were winning. I remember watching the news in perplexed silence, gazing in horror as reporters provided harrowing updates. We gaped nervously at the battles raging behind them in places we knew, like Denver and Dallas. I’ll never forget how tightly Tammy gripped my hand while watching the battle at Indianapolis, only forty-five minutes from our home, and how bizarre it all was—like seeing coverage of a foreign country. But the true horror had been stepping out into our own yard and hearing it, the concussive explosions, and the flashes on the horizon at night like an approaching thunderstorm. 

Not long after that, the news broadcasts stopped.

Tammy lies down in the sand and opens her arms for the kids to join her.  My son cries softly. My daughter asks how long we’ll have to lie here and she yawns. “Not long.” Tammy embraces her. My eyes droop heavily. It’s happening. Tammy starts to blink and her head bobs. Sleep comes quickly with no pain at all.

I lie down and as I situate myself, the horrid realization that Tammy and my kids are already asleep prompts a wet sob to lurch from my throat. But not for long. I whisper weakly, “I love you,” and then the darkness takes me and the world is gone.

 

 

My eyes flutter open and I cough. The poison puffs up in murky clouds and I sit up with a gasp. I feel sick. How long does it take before we die? A glimmer of hope sparks in my chest. What if it wasn’t poison… what if it was just ashes or something weird? If I’m not dead yet, then maybe we have a chance. Tammy sleeps and the kids are cuddled up next to her. A thin layer of white covers them like dust and I think how awful it looks. I swipe it from Tammy’s arm, then recoil at the feel of her cold, hard skin. She’s dead… Oh goddamn it, she’s dead! 

I cover my mouth and weep as I watch them lying there, so peaceful. I expect Tammy’s eyes to snap open and look at me, but they don’t and they never will.

I climb slowly from the sand-tire and brush the poison from my clothes. I can’t pull my eyes away from my dead family. The flakes no longer fall, but the darkness lingers. My feet tangle and I stumble back and fall hard onto my butt. White powder plumes around me and I scramble back to my feet. What in god’s name is happening here? I must be dreaming. But then I taste the stale air, feel the dread, and everything is too real to be a dream.

The poison didn’t kill me.

I lumber feebly out to the front of the house, and I’m met by eerie stillness. A thick layer of milky dust coats everything, like freshly fallen snow. My eyes crawl from one silent house to another. My elderly neighbors remain on their porch swing, slumped together as dead as my family. I cry and my cries turn to wails.

 

 

I yell, “Is anyone alive?”

Silence.

I cup my hands around my mouth. “Anyone out there?”

I fall to my knees in the darkness of this lifeless world and my screams shatter its incoherent stillness. Hope fled this place long ago. Today was to be the last day. Only death can break its steely grasp. With that, I collapse to my side and await its mercy. Oh, sweet mercy. Death would come, gratefully. Welcomed. I craved it for it would be my first taste of freedom.

And the hours pass.

I don’t know how long I am there before I hear that distant yell for help. So faint, so weak, yet so real. I consider getting up, but the thought sickens me. The white powder has been strewn by the wind and its snowy quality has aged to a dingy gray, like old ashes. My mind dwells on my dead family and with each horrid image, my heart shrinks to nothing. If the poison won’t kill me, I’ll find another way.

That far-off voice. “Somebody please… help me… help me!”

So far away. A woman.

A single thought coalesces within me and I stir and eventually sit up. Who is that?

I slowly rise and begin to trudge toward her. Whether manufactured in my broken mind or placed there by God, one question eludes me: Why can’t I die? Perhaps I am immune to the poison like some people are immune to the flu. But can one be immune to poison?

I start to wonder if there isn’t more to me than just a man of flesh and bone.

Perhaps God has designed me to destroy this faceless enemy that has stolen everything. Am I insane?

The voice. “Help me! Please!”

My pace quickens as certainty is wiped clean and mystery looms before me. “I’m coming!”

I find solace that whoever owns that distant voice heard me and must be smiling right now.

We are not alone.

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Book Review: Dark Fever

Dark Fever by Karen Marie Moning

I picked up Dark Fever for two reasons: it was popular in the Urban Fantasy genre and Karen Marie Moning attended Purdue University (I live outside of West Lafayette – some will make the connection).

I liked Dark Fever! I’d describe this book as pure fun.

I rate it 20 out of a possible 25. (see My Book Reviews for rating explanation)

The premise: When MacKayla (Mac) Lane’s sister is murdered in Dublin, Ireland, Mac leaves her safe sanctuary in small-town Georgia to hunt down her sister’s killer. The more she uncovers, the more obvious it becomes that this was not just a random murder. It’s not long before Mac begins to see strange, sometimes horrible, things. Monsters and demons lurking within the city, preying on unsuspecting victims who don’t appear to notice the monstrosities before them. She meets a mysterious man named Jericho Barrons who informs her she possesses a secret power called Sidhe-Seer – the power to see Fae for what they really are. The same power her sister had possessed. Mac’s world turns to chaos as she navigates an underworld she never knew existed and learns the stakes are much higher than she’d ever imagined.

I’ve read several Urban Fantasy novels, all of which appear to be part of their own series, and I can honestly say, this is one of my favorites. I’ve mentioned before that I’m not much of a series reader (though recently I’ve read many) and I don’t typically purchase the next book in a series, even if I enjoyed the first one. I’m not sure why that is, exactly, but I’ve chalked it up to the fact that there are just so many stories out there and since I read so slow, I don’t want to spend all of my time with only one character or story.

But I might end up purchasing the next one in this series, just to see where it goes. I’m genuinely interested in what happens to Mac and where she ends up. That makes for a good novel in my opinion.

Karen Marie Moning delivered on this one!

Here are my thoughts and ratings on Dark Fever.

Craft (5) – Well-written! Moning’s style is a delight to read. Her writing flows effortlessly from thought to action to dialogue. It’s easy to engulf the words with no stumbling, re-reading, or clunky sentence structures. As someone who loves to read, but reads so slow it’s frustrating, I’ve developed a true appreciation for writing styles that allow me read at a faster pace. This is talent, my friends, and Moning has it.

Pace (3) – The story’s pace wasn’t bad. There were a lot of explanations and world-building that had to take place, but several times I wanted something to happen. Thankfully, Moning’s writing strength maintained the compelling descriptions and kept me reading as Mac did a lot of thinking about stuff, and she spent a lot of time with Barrons talking about stuff. It was interesting stuff, don’t get me wrong, but I craved more action. I’d guess the subsequent books in this series are packed with action. I’m hoping so, anyway!

Characters (3) – I enjoyed the characters. Mac is funny, cute, and a badass! Jericho Barrons intrigued the hell out of me. The interactions worked well and I made a connection. Especially the scene where Mac visits the deserted alley where her sister was murdered. My god, that scene was executed perfectly and I felt her pain. Downright chilling. Now before I give the negative, I want to preface that this may be my own little hang-up, that maybe my male observation intruded, but Mac’s appearance seemed cliché to me. Don’t get me wrong, I liked that she was cute, young, and full of vitality, but her character seemed similar to many other female characters in this genre.

Story (5) – I loved the story. Dark Fever is one of many Urban Fantasy, beautiful female badasses as leads stories (which were very popular during the time period that this one published, the early 2000s), but I felt this one had a unique enough spin that it stood out. For me, it was Jericho Barrons. I want to know who this guy is and what role he plays in this universe where the Fae is invading our planet. I also found the idea that Fae are actually an alien race to be intriguing as well.

Ending (4) – It ended well, but with many questions still remaining. I’m glad it concluded in an action-packed fight scene! Definitely enjoyable. I’m going to leave the ending rated at 5 because it really was a great ending that propelled you to the end of the book, but I would have liked to have a few more questions answered. Effectively, nothing was concluded or resolved. I’m hedging that the rest of the series brings all of this to closure and I’ll take this ending for what it is – a platform for all of the future books.

If you’re looking for a fun book and are okay with a quirky, cute female main character, then you’ll enjoy Dark Fever. I certainly did.

My recommendation is to get it!

It’s genre specific, so if you enjoy Urban Fantasy, you’ll probably love it. That said, it’s not so specific that you wouldn’t enjoy it if you decided to step out of your safe-zone and try something new.

Feel free to leave your thoughts. As always, I’d love to hear them. And I hope you enjoy Dark Fever!

Why write?

Why I write

 Photo courtesy of a brief stay in the mountains of Vermont.

What’s the point of writing stories?

There’s no money in it. There’s little or no fame. Statistically, you’ll never make enough money to feed yourself and if you sell over 500-hundred copies in your lifetime, you’re above average (that’s for everything you’ve ever written combined, assuming you publish more than one thing). Your typical fan base equals your family and a few close friends. Likely, the high point of your writing career will be your debut novel, your very first publication. A flurry of activity ensues, you get tons of Facebook “likes”, people congratulate you, your sales spike, and you’ll sell twenty-five copies in the first month. Hell, you might even get a few Amazon reviews. And after that…

Nothing.

It all goes quiet. You’ll check your Amazon page, but you’ll stop after a while. Maybe you’ll write another book and do the whole process over again; that is, if you’re one of the few who actually writes a second book. Even if you’re traditionally published by one of the Big 5 publishing houses, it’s basically the same formula. At the end of the day, no one cares that you wrote a book.

Oh sure, people who know you think it’s neat, you’ll get admirative expressions, but no one really cares. Other than family and those few close friends, no one is running out and buying your book. All those hours you spent writing it, editing it, and publishing it – all that time giving birth to your creation – and what do you end up with when people ask how it’s going? Either having to be honest and tell them, I’ve sold a few copies, or lying through your teeth and saying with a fake smile, it’s actually going great! Pride’s a bitch.

And here are a few anecdotal statistics to pour more fuel on the fire of pessimism:

200 million people in the United States say they’d like to publish a book.

Of those, 97% never finish writing a book. Which means that by these estimates, 6 million people actually type The End. Now, if you compare that to the number of print sales in 2017, roughly 687 million according to Publishers’ Weekly, the number of writers nearly equals the number of books sold! My god, talk about too many cooks in the kitchen.

Now clearly, these numbers can be construed a dozen different ways and it doesn’t mean no one is having success as an author because we obviously know they are, but I hope my point is clear – it’s an ocean of words, books, and writers out there. How much of the ocean actually gets seen? Typically, just the surface. There is no visibility into all that water underneath.

And poignantly, beneath the surface, unseen and unknown, is where most of our writing exists, metaphorically speaking.

So why do it? Why waste time writing stories no one will likely see?

 

 

Well, here’s my reason…

Because I don’t know what else to do, that’s why. I don’t care if only a few people see my stories; fame and fortune is not why I write them. Granted, I wouldn’t sit around and gripe if I had either of those things, but seriously my friends, fame and fortune do not splash words on the page.

It’s that simple. I’m not trying to sound cheesy here or attempting to kiss anyone’s ass, I’m just telling you that if only one person ever reads my stories, then that’s enough. I won’t get too over-dramatic and say I’ll die if I don’t write my stories, but I will say that writing is not something I do as a little hobby or because I’m bored.

It’s deeper than that. It’s inherent. Everything I see and experience is a story. Every little town I pass through and every little road I travel down… all stories waiting to be told. Even gazing across a field bathed in sunshine is a story as I picture myself strolling barefoot across the warm pasture with blades of grass tickling the sides of my feet.

Sometimes it’s a dream. Sometimes it’s simply a vision.

Regardless of where it comes from, it’s always there; the people, the places, the situations. Always there and wanting to be told. As many of you know, I’ve been writing stories since I was very young. No one asked me to. No one demanded it. It’s just something I started to do one day. That was even before Microsoft Word!

I can remember my very first story – thirteen-years-old, staring at a clump of trees and thinking, what if something horrible is hiding in there.

Then I read Cujo by Stephen King and oh my god, I knew I wanted to write books. From that point on, I never stopped writing stories. Writing is fulfillment. Satisfaction. For me, the stories are real.

I won’t lie to you, I’d love to make a living at this. I crave it. It’s what I was born to do. What I’m called to do. That’s what I think, anyway.

But alas, if it was the money I sought, the fame, and the validation, the creative process would become empty and meaningless. I don’t write for any of those material things.

I only write for you.

And for me.

Because in the end, when I’m telling you a story and you’re reading it, it’s just the two of us anyway.

 

 

So what’s the point?

It comes down to one thing… one very simple and wonderful thing.

I want to whisk you away. Either for a brief trip with a short story, or maybe a longer ride with a novel, I want to transport you to another place, another world, as your eyes engulf the words, I want you to forget about everyday life for a bit. Just let it go and step into my imaginary land and meet my imaginary people.

I’m not trying to teach you anything. There are no moral lessons or expectations. There’s no quiz at the end.

I write to entertain you, my reader, and to make the most intimate of connections where for that brief moment, it’s just the two of us. And maybe, just maybe, I catch that flicker of wonder in your eye, that subtle curl at the corner of your mouth that tells me you’re in my world and you’re enjoying being there, with me.

And that, my friends, is why I write stories.

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Book Review: The Hunger

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The Hunger by Alma Katsu

 

I’ve said this before, but it’s worth repeating – The Hunger is the best book I’ve read this year.

Occasionally, you pick out a book that surprises you, one you weren’t expecting, and bamb! it blows you away. My friends, settle in for nothing but praises for Alma Katsu’s, The Hunger. I loved it and simply can’t say enough good things about it. Honestly, it’s the closest thing to a perfect score that I’ve read so far this year.

I rate it 24 out of a possible 25. (see My Book Reviews for rating explanation)

The premise: The Hunger is a fictional bend on the tragic Donner Party set in the mid-1840s with the cursed wagon train heading west in search of California. We know from history that the Donner Party was a doomed quest resulting in brutal conditions, including cannibalism and god only knows what else. As the wagon train crosses the plains and nears the mountainous regions, something begins stalking the members of the expedition; a creature that kills and devours its prey. As food depletes and winter sets in, the party is forced to a halt in a snow-covered valley, where a small group of people set out to try and find help.

There is just so much about this book that works. For one, Alma Katsu’s writing is superb. No wasted words or flowery rhetoric. It’s full-on story from beginning to end. And her way of describing things is magical. With perfect metaphors, similes, and descriptions that match the book’s dark mood, you’re never yanked out of the story to concentrate on something the author said.

The characters are so believable and though not all of them are historically accurate (which Alma totally acknowledges as intentional to make it fiction), many of them were real people associated with the Donner Party. But it’s the character depths that impressed me so much. A lot of people are mentioned, but the focus is on a few, which works great for a story like this. Stanton, Donner, Reed, Tamsen, Mary Graves… and the list goes on. Each contributing to the story in their own unique and critical way

And don’t worry, it’s not a history book. The Hunger is a work of fiction based on a historical event. Chances are you’ll forget that you’re reading a story that took place in the 1840s. The characters are so real and believable, you’ll make interesting notes of the time period, and most remarkably, the writing sets the book’s mood to one of a pre-civil war setting.

Alma Katsu delivered on this one!

Here are my thoughts and ratings on The Hunger.

Craft (5) – So well-written! I was most impressed with the little descriptors, metaphors, and similes that brought it all together. Many times, I’d read a character’s thoughts or a description of their action and think, damn, how on earth did she think to write that? It’s perfect! As a struggling writer, I’m insanely jealous!

Pace (4) – The story’s pace was spot-on, but this is where I’ll put my one and only critique (mainly because I don’t have a clue where else to put it). The creatures hunting the wagon train were creepy and vivid. I personally thought of werewolves, but she never came out and said that. My only disappointment was that we didn’t see more of them. Several times, I’d think, Oh shit, the creatures are going to attack now, and they wouldn’t. Often, they’d disappear for great swaths of time, and then pop up later as shadows moving through the trees, which was scary, but I kept wanting more!  

Characters (5) – Characters are one of the major strengths of this novel. So well thought out and put together. Each character’s distinct traits, vernacular, and thought process remained unique throughout the story. Heroes rose and fell and surprises lurked around every corner.

Story (5) – The story is pure magic. The Hunger is not the first story ever told based on an actual historical event. Often, it can be cumbersome and confusing since the story must remain historically accurate or it all falls apart. Quite often, it just doesn’t work. That is not the case for this one – the story rockets forward from beginning to end and the historical event really becomes more of a backdrop versus being the forefront of the story.

Ending (5) – A great ending. Everything wrapped up and the integrity of the actual event was maintained well, I thought. Even though I’d heard of the Donner Party, I was certainly no expert and couldn’t tell you what characters were real and which ones Alma made up, but I can tell you this, if a there was ever a paranormal event that could have been true, it’d be this one. It felt real in every way and ended as it should have.

 

I loved this book! It’s not pure horror, or pure supernatural, or even pure history. It’s just a good story. Not overly gory and at times, takes on the realistic hardships faced by west-bound wagon trains in those early days, which I found interesting in its own right.

If you love a good story, GET IT!

If you don’t like horror, don’t get too overly worried, it’s not pure horror in the sense of slashers, vampires, and mayhem. It’s really quite thought-provoking.

Feel free to leave your thoughts. As always, I’d love to hear them. And I hope you enjoy The Hunger as much I did!

My top-ten Must-Reads

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My Top 10 Must-Reads

 Photo courtesy of Jarred Craig from Unsplash.com.

The reader’s dilemma – what do I read next?

I’ll read anything, regardless of genre, but I gravitate toward paranormal, dystopian, apocalyptic, and straight-up horror. Quite often, I’ll google for recommendations or I’ll seek advice on what to read next by looking up another author’s recommendations.

So, here are my top 10 must-reads. If you’re a reader, you’ve likely read a few of these, or maybe all, but if you see one (or more) you’ve not read, go get it. You’ll be glad you did!

 

Number 1: A Head Full Of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay

A paranormal story about demonic possession, A Head Full of Ghosts delivers in a big way. It’s creepy (even more than Blatty’s, The Exorcist, in my opinion) and compelling. No weird back-bends or excessive demon-bondage, just eerie images and events.

What I loved most: the bulk of the story is expertly written from the perspective of an 8-year-old girl. Paul Tremblay has climbed to the top spot on my favorite authors list.

 

Number 2: The Passage series by Justin Cronin

An apocalyptic masterpiece, if you ask me. One of the best stories I’ve ever read. Ever. The characters come to life and you literally fall in love with them. It’s the perfect blend of a deadly virus, monsters, and immortality.

What I loved most: the trilogy is told over a thousand-year timeline (though the bulk of the story takes place within a hundred years, give or take) and it works! I read somewhere that Cronin wrote the story for his daughter about a little girl who saves the world. It’s simply extraordinary.

 

Number 3: The Hunger by Alma Katsu

Quite possibly, the best novel I’ll read this year. I loved The Hunger. Based on the true story of the tragic Donner Party, the story introduces a supernatural element that interweaves historical facts with a terrifying presence that grabs you from the start and never lets go!

What I loved most: it’s down-right creepy; the people and setting feel like the mid-1800s, yet it’s not like reading a history book. Katsu is an amazing writer and I can’t wait to read more from her!

 

Number 4: Dark Matter by Blake Crouch

Okay, it’s not that stories about alternate universes haven’t been told before, they certainly have, but Blake Crouch told this particular story so damned well! Dark Matter is about a man trying to save his family from multiple versions of himself, all of which believe they are the true and legitimate version.

What I loved most: it’s not confusing and it’s a terrific story. To add on to that, as a writer, I’m so damned envious of Crouch’s literary talent in telling a story like this.

 

Number 5: Darkness on the Edge of Town by Brian Keene

Admittedly, I found this book by googling “Top horror novels to read”. I’d never heard of Brian Keene before then. This one popped up on that list and I almost ignored it after seeing the cover – not that the cover is that bad, it just seemed a bit homemade. But damn, I’m so glad I bought that book!

What I loved most: the writing is superb. About a town suddenly surrounded by a black, impenetrable cloud, the story rockets forward with believable characters trying to figure it all out. I highly recommend this one if you’re just out for a solid story.

 

Number 6: The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

A few of you are probably saying, wait a second, why’s this book on a top ten list of paranormal / horror? Simple answer; because it scared the shit out of me! My friends, if you have kids, especially teenage daughters, this book will seriously bother you. It’s told from the perspective of a fourteen-year-old girl who is kidnapped and murdered - she tells the story as a ghost!

What I loved most: the uniqueness of the story and the connection to the characters. The Lovely Bones is one of those stories that lingers with you long after you’ve finished it!

 

Number 7: The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson

An oldie but goodie. If you’re looking for something that’s just straight up scary and well-told, I recommend finding a copy of the original Amityville Horror. I read this book years ago, like decades, and there are still creepy parts that haunt me to this day. Stories that have classic movies associated to them can be difficult to read objectively, but if you can do it, I think you’ll be happy you did.

What I loved most: it was scary!

 

Number 8: Swan Song by Robert McCammon

You can’t go wrong with McCammon. Another one of those writers who’s been around a long time and delivered a ton of good stories. In my opinion, Swan Song is one of his best. Based on a post-nuclear holocaust world, the story focuses on a girl with extraordinary abilities which ultimately impacts the fate of our dying planet.

What I loved most: as I’ve mentioned, I’m a huge fan of the apocalyptic genre and this book brings all of the gritty elements into the story with so many unforgettable scenes and characters that you’ll wish it could keep going.

 

Number 9: The Stand by Stephen King

I can just hear all of the rants rippling through the crowd right now after seeing this one on here. Some folks will agree with me, others will say, why’d he put that one on there? Why not Salem’s Lot, The Shining, or IT. Let’s just agree right now, The King has written a plethora of novels with an equal right to exist on this list of must-reads. He is also my literary hero. The Stand just happens to be my favorite of his (close runners-up are Cujo, Pet Sematary, and Salem’s Lot). The Stand is another apocalyptic story based on a super-flu killing most of the human race.

What I loved most: it felt so damned real! Especially when the flu was in full swing and wiping people out, whenever I’d sneeze or cough, I’d think, oh shit.

 

Number 10: The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Last, but not least, The Road is another post-apocalyptic novel that follows a father and his young son on a dangerous walk south to reach the coast. Cormac McCarthy is a fabulous writer and he writes a variety of genres. The Road is, to my knowledge, his only apocalyptic / horror story and he absolutely crushes it with this one. So well-told and contains such emotional depth that it captures true fear in the face of a dying planet.

What I love most: the sheer brutality. McCarthy never reveals the “event” that caused the planet to die, but if you want to read a story about what the end of the world would most likely be like, don’t miss this one. There are no rainbows and unicorns in this one, my friends. Be prepared.

 

So there you have it; my Top 10 Must-Read recommendations. Not everyone will agree with my list, but that’s okay. Subjectivity is what makes this whole literary world of ours so interesting.

I could easily identify 10 more books, and then 10 more after that, but I think going in groups of 10 is a reasonable, and digestible, amount. I’ll publish more lists, but for now, be sure to check these out. They are truly great stories told by masters of the craft!

Until next time, my friends!

Book Review: Moon Called

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Moon Called by Patricia Briggs

 

If your taste is Urban Fantasy, then this book checks all the right boxes.

Moon Called is the first book in the Mercedes Thompson series by Patricia Briggs. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t usually seek out a series to read, especially when the series is based on a repeating character and not necessarily a continuing story. That said, I enjoyed Moon Called.

I rate it 20 out of a possible 25. (see My Book Reviews for rating explanation)

The premise: Moon Called is told in first-person narrative by Mercedes Thompson, amply nicknamed Mercy in the story, and takes place in the upper Northwest. She’s a mechanic, which I thought was super cool, and she’s also a shape-shifter who can transform into a Coyote. When a young werewolf arrives at her doorstep seeming lost, she tries to help him. But when the young werewolf ends up murdered and the teenage daughter of a local werewolf alpha (the pack leader) is kidnapped, Mercy must act and prevent the delicate balance of the underworld from spiraling out of control.

As a first book in the Mercy Thompson series, Moon Called does an excellent job of laying the groundwork for Mercy’s character. I felt connected to her. Not only is the story compelling, it also contains the right elements of Urban Fantasy with werewolves, witches, vampires, and more.

Most importantly, it isn’t cheesy or campy in the way it’s told. I enjoyed the unique spins on werewolves and vampires, and since the story is told completely from Mercy’s point of view, it works because these creatures have been part of her life from the beginning.

The writing is wonderful. The characters are believable and interesting (assuming you’re okay with creatures of the night). It’s just a good, fun story. One other thing I’ll point out (and that I was impressed with) – it’s a clean story. Most shocking, and a testament to the strength of the writing, is how much I hardly noticed the lack of vulgarity, gratuitous sex, or unnecessary violence. I don’t usually enjoy novels that purposefully avoid vulgarity simply because it comes off as inauthentic… hardened war veterans spouting things like, oh poop, or shucks… cops battling alcoholism or bartenders uttering terms like heck and darn it. I don’t buy it. But I’m telling you right now, Patricia Briggs pulls it off quite well.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating the use of vulgarity or that it’s necessary, I’m just saying that when narration or dialogue is not true to character, it pulls me out of the story.

One thing I especially enjoyed was Mercy’s vulnerability. Her character wasn’t some badass chick able to kick the hell out of anyone who crossed her path. In fact, far from it. Granted, she possessed shape-shifting abilities, which would certainly be handy sometimes, but against werewolves and vampires, transforming into a measly little coyote didn’t give her the upper-hand in a fight. She had to outsmart her opponents, which is my favorite type of female heroine.

Patricia Briggs delivered on this one!

Here are my thoughts and ratings on Moon Called.

Craft (4) – Very-well written! Descriptive vocabulary and concise sentences flowed well throughout. I felt at times it could use a little more description since this world is so fantastical and required a lot of imagination, which is good, but occasionally, I wanted to be told what was there and what it looked like. Patricia killed it on dialogue! I learned a lot reading this one.

Pace (4) – The pacing was terrific. Never boring or wandering around. In fact, there were a couple of times when the story out-paced my ability to keep up with it and I found myself rereading a page or a few paragraphs to get reoriented. Nothing terrible, just something I ran into.

Characters (3) – After all my build-up of how great Mercy’s character was, and I give this a “3”. What gives? This could very well be just me and my short attention span, but I got confused several times. I’ve ran into this before in other stories where the characters get jumbled up in my mind and I forget who’s who. Several times I had to go back and get reacquainted with a character so I understood their role in the story. Especially with all the double-crossing, betrayals, etc.

Story (5) – The story is pure entertainment. I write in the Urban Fantasy market, so perhaps I’m simply in awe of Patricia’s ability to think so in-depth. She brings this world to life and blends all of these creatures into a realistic story that simply works.

Ending (4) – Great ending. I didn’t feel robbed or betrayed. Plot lines didn’t twist for the sake of twisting and characters didn’t die simply for shock value. It wrapped fairly well. Admittedly, I’d hoped for an enemy more sinister and so I had a slight pang of disappointment that the antagonist was so tame, but it worked and it made sense. Making sense is a big deal with an ending.

I enjoyed this book. It is very genre specific, so if you don’t like the idea of werewolves, vampires, witches, and shapeshifters, then you might be a little put-off. All of these creatures are just part of everyday life in Mercy’s story. But if Urban Fantasy is your thing, you’ll enjoy this one. And, if you’re a writer, you’ll learn a lot reading Patricia Briggs.

My vote - Get It!

Feel free to leave your thoughts. As always, I’d love to hear them.

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Indie Publishing

Photo courtesy of Nikko Macaspac from Unsplash.com

Indie Publishing

Are your query letters disappearing into the void? Are they plopping back into your inbox with the big, ugly, this didn’t work for me, best of luck placing it elsewhere?

I’m not demonizing literary agents. Most of them are terrific people and they love what they do.

But let’s face it, rejections hurt. Believe me, I know. As time passes, the rejections devour your confidence and your hope rots. You step drearily into a bookstore, the fragrance of books wafts into your face and you breathe it in, and then you might think, this is what I’m born to do, it’s the only thing I’m truly passionate about.

Doubt rears its ugly head. What if I never get published? You may never be seated at an author’s table with people lined up eagerly to purchase an autographed copy of your book. You may never appear on stage with Stephen King to discuss your work, or speak at colleges, or be recognized in airports and supermarkets as aren’t you that writer? You may never get to quit your day-job and pursue what you love. People may never take “this little hobby” of yours seriously. You may never have to contact your literary agent before making any decisive career moves. Dear god, you may never have an agent!

Depression lurks.

And scratch self-publishing. It doesn’t carry the validation, or perhaps the legitimacy, you’re seeking.

And you’ll never stoop down to the indie publishers. They’re not credible. They’re vanity. The real writers don’t publish through indie publishers. To hell with that. You’ll just keep plugging along. Perseverance. Thick skin. That’s what everyone says. Keep at it, don’t give up! What if Stephen King had given up, or J.K. Rowling? I WILL get this!

And the years pass.

Meanwhile, many writers publishing in the indie market are living the dream because it isn’t as much fame they seek; they just want to be writers.

Perhaps you just chuckled at that last sentence and thought, meh, just another wannabe writer who couldn’t cut it with the big five.

But then again, maybe I’m onto something.

If you’re evaluating an opportunity with an indie publisher, but you’re not sure about it, then this article is for you.

 

The hardest thing I’ve ever done is have a story accepted for publication. I’ve written over a hundred short-stories. I’ve written eight novels. I’ve had a bona fide New York literary agent. I’ve attended writers’ conferences. I’ve hired editors. And after all of that, here’s my publishing history:

Short stories: 5

Novels: 0

Perhaps you just chuckled again and thought, this poor guy sucks and he doesn’t even realize it. I’ll zip right on past that thought with a wince and pang of insecurity.

But here’s where I’m going with this… I’ll have my first novel published in July by Black Rose Writing, an indie publisher. There are so many reasons why this is such a big deal. For one, I’ll be a published writer. The genuine article. The real goddamned McCoy… whatever that means.

I’m elated! Over the moon! Excited beyond words! People are buying my book!

I’ve got book signings scheduled. My publisher helped me identify book stores for readings and signings. My publisher helped me secure a 2-month spot on Netgalley that starts August 1st. My publisher designed a terrific book cover and they allowed my input. My publisher holds live interactive meetings on a regular basis to cover what is working and not working for book marketing. My publisher responds to every email I send because I am one of their writers.

I’ll bet you’re not chuckling now.

If you haven’t felt the exhilaration of a legitimate publisher sahying, we really liked this story and we want to publish it, trust me, there are very few feelings that come close to it. It’s validation. Poignantly, many writers never experience it and must decide to take the risk on themselves in the self-publishing market. Neither path is wrong, but the former establishes that someone else saw potential in your work, which for a writer, is the holy grail.

My primary point with this article is to challenge your traditional thought process, whether you’re a reader or a writer, and consider the indie market. Not self-publishing, which isn’t bad either, but it’s not what I’m referring to. I’m talking about traditional publication with an indie publisher. Perhaps you’re concerned with quality, or maybe you’re thinking it’s not credible because they don’t actually reject anyone (a thought you’d be wrong about, by the way). Those Indie publishers make their money from people purchasing their own books, right? There are no bestselling authors in Indie. The books are not well-edited. They have no distribution. You have to do everything yourself. The “marketing packages” aren’t effective and are really just ploys for the publisher to make money. They’re really just dressed up vanity publishers, right?

Wrong.

I had all of those concerns as well. If you don’t know the difference between indie and vanity, do some research. I don’t recommend the vanity route unless you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into. This article isn’t about vanity, but the basic mission of a vanity press is to facilitate the self-publishing print process. If you don’t know if your publisher is a vanity press, just start with this – a traditional publisher will never pursue, or require, you to purchase anything.

Indie publishers are no different than any other company. Some are small, some are large. Some have more funding. Some have less. Depending on the size, you may have to make some investment yourself, or put some money into co-marketing efforts (if you choose). Point being, your success as a writer falls greatly on you no matter which route you take. As an example, I purchased my own books (discounted) for book signings and events. I didn’t have to, but since my indie publisher’s distribution channel doesn’t compare to the large publishers, I preferred taking the consignment route versus missing the opportunity completely. Some bookstores simply will not order your book if it’s indie published, but they’ll let you hold a signing event if you bring your own.

But maybe you’re still thinking it’s not legit. The prestige isn’t there. Hey, I get it. I’ve been there. There’s no shame in pursuing that agent. Pursue the big publishing contract. Keep tenaciously chasing your dream because you never know, it could be right around the corner.

Meanwhile, I choose to live my dream. I want to write.

I can’t speak to all indie publishers, of course. Hell, some of them may really suck. But I’m convinced my finished product would not be as spectacular if I had not chosen to go with Black Rose Writing.

My advice to you if you’re a writer and you’re evaluating an opportunity with an indie publisher and your questioning the legitimacy of that indie publisher, do your research. Go to the forums. God knows I do. I’ve learned some great stuff on Absolute Write and other forums and there are wonderful people out there. They’ll help you avoid the traps. Trust me, there are plenty of scams out there willing to take advantage of desperate writers. But there are also pretentious writers on those forums who will lead you astray. In the end, it is you who must make the choice and it is you who will live with it.

Last, don’t avoid the two most important steps in your due diligence process – speak to writers who are published by the publisher you’re pursuing. Are they happy? Do they like their publisher? Do they feel like writers?

And then read a book or two published by that indie publisher. Spend the twenty bucks or so and review their product.

If they’ve asked for your full manuscript, hurray! You’re close! If they offer you a contract, give it serious thought. Within six months, you’ll be one of three things:

The tenacious writer who said no, I’m staying the course for the larger show, then snagged a literary agent and now you’re on your way to the big contract.

Or the skittish writer who turned it down and you’re still pursuing your dream agent.

Or a published author with book signings scheduled, marketing events arranged, press packages going out, etc., etc.

It’s up to you really, but I know what I’m doing.

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Book Review: Golden Son

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Golden Son by Pierce Brown

I love reading Pierce Brown. A writer could learn a lot reading his work.

Golden Son is Book II of the Red Rising series and it is terrific. I don’t typically seek out a series to read, nor do I typically seek out Science Fiction. I’m more of a one-book, one-story kind of guy, but occasionally I come across a series that I really enjoy. The Red Rising series is one of those.

I rate it 24 out of a possible 25. (see My Book Reviews for rating explanation)

The premise: Golden Son is the continuing saga of Darrow, a man hell-bent on revenge for the death of his wife. But it’s so much bigger than that and I need to explain the premise from the level of the entire series versus just one book. The human race exists in factions based on color – each color performs a specific task and is immediately identifiable based on hair-color, body shape, or size (or combination of all the above). Color also determines where one rates in the hierarchy: Reds being the lowest and Gold being highest. Darrow is a Red who lives deep inside the planet Mars, along with thousands of other Reds, and believes they are preparing the planet for mankind’s eventual migration from Earth.

However, through a series of unfortunate events, including the death of his wife at the hands of the Golds, Darrow learns that humans have inhabited Mars and the entire Solar System for over 700-years, and that Reds are slaves to the Golds. Golds become his enemy and his life’s mission is to destroy them all. In Book I, Red Rising, Darrow’s vengeful path begins by having himself scientifically engineered to mimic a Gold. He rises to the top of the Gold hierarchy and befriends several Golds during his tenure at the military academy. Red Rising ultimately concludes with Darrow’s fight against the Golds who wronged him, yet the one Gold who ordered the death of his wife still lives. And to add more complexity, Darrow develops strong bonds with many of his Gold classmates, including one he may be in love with nicknamed Mustang, who just happens to be the daughter of his wife’s killer.

Golden Son picks up directly where Red Rising left off (which I highly recommend reading Red Rising first). Darrow’s feelings for Mustang deepen and she becomes the beacon that keeps his hatred at bay while he continues his quest to destroy the one who killed his wife. Darrow expertly out-wits his enemies only to fall victim to betrayal in his final battle to conquer the planet Mars and establish himself as ruler.

There is just so much about this book that’s right. The writing is wonderful. The story is simply terrific and the characters are real. My favorite stories are the ones I can believe and I believe this one.

One thing that stood out to me which made both Red Rising and Golden Son such great stories was Darrow’s thought process. His thoughts were perfectly timed and in true character, so real in fact, that I’d often stop and ponder it, envision it… I could feel it. Here’s an example. In this scene, Darrow is fighting in an armored suite that’s powered. The enemy detonates an EMP which knocks out the power to his suite and he sinks to the bottom of a river.

“I can’t move. My StarShell [the powered armor suite] is too heavy. I lie like a turtle, half stuck in mud at the bottom of the river. Confused. Fear rides in me. It happened so fast. Can’t even look to my left or my right to see who is with me. My com is dead. If it weren’t, I’d probably hear screams, curses.

This StarShell brought me from space to land. A life raft, a personal castle in the middle of a war. Now it’s my coffin.”

Now, I get that you don’t have the context, but this short scene depicts the horror and makes it real for me. I became anxious just thinking about being trapped like this!

One thing is for certain, Pierce Brown delivered on this one!

Here are my thoughts and ratings on Golden Son.

Craft (5) – Expertly written! Pierce Brown may be the best noun/action verb combination writer I’ve ever read. I cannot think of one instance in either book I’ve read so far where I may have changed a word, or made something shorter. As a reader, you simply never stumble over the writing. Ever.

Pace (5) – If you like stuff happening at a fast pace, you’ll love these books. Wonderful pace. There are no swaths of nothingness or boredom. Every word, every line, and every paragraph serves to march the story forward.

Characters (4) – Okay, let me explain why it’s the only 4 since I mentioned above about how much I love the characters. Pierce Brown brings Darrow alive as well as the other characters. That said, there are just so damn many characters that it’s difficult to keep up. Plus, some characters have two names: their nicknames and their real names, which makes it even more difficult. I found this to be more challenging in Golden Son than I did in Red Rising. In fact, I don’t recall having this struggle with Red Rising at all. But Golden Son, for me at least, was tough to keep up with all the names.

Story (5) – The story is amazing. I loved the idea of learning that humans had inhabited Mars for 700 years. I love the fact that Darrow’s motivation continues to be revenge for the death of his wife. And I absolutely love the complexities and intricacies of the different colors and how they represent the human condition. There is really nothing about this story I didn’t like.

Ending (5) – Similar to Red Rising, the ending was wonderful. It left enough to desire the next book, yet didn’t leave me feeling like I was robbed. Granted, this is a second book in a series, so the ending really must be judged by how the entire series ends, but when reading each book, it’s important (for me, at least) to feel like I just stepped off a roller-coaster and that I need a break before the next ride.  

Clearly, I enjoyed this book, as well as the book before it, Red Rising. It is genre specific, so if you don’t like Science Fiction, you might not see the real beauty in it; a lot of spaceships, space travel, planetary jargon, etc. But if you like a good story and it doesn’t matter that it’s Science Fiction, you’ll enjoy this one. And, if you’re a writer, you’ll learn a lot reading both Red Rising and Golden Son. Primarily, a great lesson in the effectiveness of noun/action verb.

Feel free to leave your thoughts. As always, I’d love to hear them.