Caitlin Hicks's Blog: Book Reviews, page 10
January 19, 2021
Tomorrow there will be Kamala
It’s the night before
Only one more sleep
A few more hours
Tomorrow morning and we will have inaugurated a new president. Our President: whom we elected to serve country and fellow citizens. Who has taken an oath to protect us; who has promised never to be above the law, but ensures he will enforce the law that was created before he was even born.
I say ‘we’. I’m in Canada, and as an ex-pat I know that I speak for myself, but I can also feel the collective wishing and hoping all around me. The palpable relief. Tomorrow, there will be Kamala Harris. Tomorrow, we don’t have to call that rabble-rouser “Mr. President”. Tomorrow we can replace shock and ire with a quiet respect for the rule of law. For democracy.
Tomorrow we can pretend that everything will be back in its place. If not right away, then soon. The dying will slow down. The coach will veer from the edge of the cliff. A sensible, positive man has taken over the reins of power from the sociopathic despot who almost drove the entire wagon off the steep rise, into the canyon. Horses and constitution and Bill of Rights, country and civility and all, along with him.
Tomorrow ‘they’ will make sure the trouble-maker is accountable for his brash and unforgivable lies. And rhetoric. Because this rhetoric, finally spoken out loud and repeated, 280 characters at a time, with the contempt that had (pre-Trump) been shielded by common decency, this rhetoric just about started a war in my country. And in my family of origin.
Tomorrow, I can hope that somehow, I will be able to have a conversation with my stateside brothers and sisters, most of whom are locked in a smog of hatred and blame. They accuse me because they have been given permission to blanket anyone with the slur of “The Liberal Left”. “Socialists”, as if I should be ashamed of Socialism-like-the-Fire Department that keeps their houses from burning down, or Socialism-like-street-lights. “Goons indoctrinated by far-left social justice race-baiters”. Tonight, this is what I am to them.
But tomorrow, there will be Kamala!
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January 18, 2021
Pale Morning Light with Violet Swan
Pale Morning Light with Violet Swan: A Novel of a Life in Art by Deborah Reed
Reviewer: Caitlin Hicks
Marvelous and painful, truthful and penetrating, this novel, with every page, requires the reader to sense, to live in and cherish the present moment. A 93-year-old woman, Violet Swan, celebrated for her abstract paintings, finds herself at the end of her life experiencing the fleeting days of her dwindling existence.
The all-knowing narrator who describes the activity of the novel sounds like the artist herself, seeing the full color and detail that artists observe so well: “The base coat on her canvas was only half finished, and still she remained at the windows, distracted by the light, the yard and the thick forest beyond the grass, the warm sun drawing heat from the trees, an orange gas rising. Periwinkle crocuses streamed over the lawn like lightbulbs with golden filaments. Barn swallows flitted to and from phone wires, their steely-blue wings and mustard bellies flashing in the sun.”
Literature speaks to readers in direct relation to their life experience; one day a book is interesting because yesterday the reader lived a moment of it, or imagined it; the next day another reader tosses the same work aside, waiting to step into his own shimmering, evolving life.
Pale Morning Light with Violet Swan sees existence through an artist’s eyes nearing the end of her days. So it’s not for everyone. Even the joy of a new phrase describing a familiar detail can be postponed for the next decade when you might be searching, desperately, for the meaning of a life remembered. Not many get to be 93. And Violet sees the colors of the world around her with hopeful acceptance of another dawn, another noon, another night. So it feels worthy, the sit with Violet Swan and contemplate the shimmering stones of her life.
In writer’s circles, the first page of a novel is critical as it needs to be full of the urgency of reading this particular story; it has to engage the reader immediately. And yet here, Deborah Reed, the author, talks of speckles of pale ochre slipping from a paintbrush to the drop cloth and the fir floor under that. The earthquake and Violet’s memory of a burning farmhouse that chars the right side of her body when she was 14—that takes place on page three, seamlessly woven into the narrative.
There is a dream-like quality to Violet’s inner monologue that consistently brings the reader back to the past, seamlessly, visiting her, appearing uninvited, like memories do. It’s a gentle thing, capturing Violet’s personal experiences in memories that fleet into consciousness but stay because they resonate: “Again that feeling descended on her, a convergence of time and space, as if she existed everywhere at once. She’d reached out her hand, as if to touch her father’s gramophone, with its oak horn sprouting like a giant hollyhock filled with crackling tunes . . .”
This is the charm of this novel. “The thing about time was that no matter how Violet had changed on the outside, on the inside she had remained every age she ever was.”
“She could hear her father’s voice cutting through the music as clearly as a trumpet’s flare. As clearly as if he had never gone away. Listen to this, Violet. It’s a dandy. Go get your mother. And don’t forget Em.”
So like this, Violet’s life unfolds to the reader, the secrets, the yearning. What is she trying to solve in these last days? What can she say that will comfort? Complicating this is her family surrounding her: her son Frank and his wife Penny, who live below Violet and whose conversations she can sometimes hear through the heating vent. Her beloved grandson, Daniel, who for half of the book is on his way to Blueberry Lane where Violet lives. He brings with him a big secret, and in the meantime, more of Violet’s life as a young woman has come into the readers consciousness like a vision, fading up and down and mixed with current concerns. For example, when the earthquake shakes their foundations in the first chapter, Penny’s determination to leave Frank is thwarted by a gash in his head.
As the novel progresses, as her grandson finally receives her permission to film a documentary on her life, secret after secret is revealed to the mutual shock of all: a fire that tore through her house when she was seven and burned one half of her body was not really caused by the Christmas tree burning; she speaks fluent French; she’s dying of cancer. And then, new relatives are presented and what was the story that brought them to life? Through it all, Violet paints with confidence and dwindling energy.
Complex and full of the richness of a life in the arts courageously lived, Pale Morning Light with Violet Swannever strays far from the artist’s palette, from what she sees in the dark shadows, only to reveal the pastels, the light, and ultimately the love and forgiveness. Because after all, what can we do with this marvelous moment we have been given?
This review was first published at New York Journal of Books.
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January 14, 2021
SHEA FAMILY MOTORS -Grand Opening!
It’s June 15, 1963. Pasadena, California.
Two weeks ago Pope John XXIII died.
Yesterday, school let out for the summer.
Today, a Soviet astronaut launched into space.
But for the enormous Shea family, it was the Grand Opening of SHEA FAMILY MOTORS and everyone was there.
“The little kids from both families chased each other around the lot, playing hide-and-seek behind the gas pumps. Paul and John discovered the switch that made the car lift up and down in the bay, and its growling sound started up as the huge metal frame chugged slowly up on a pole towards the ceiling. The twins looked green and uncomfortable, their small hands full of bitten doughnuts.
“Daddy said American Motors had the mid-size high performance luxury compact market to itself, and he was going to sell a lot of cars. The feature car, The Ambassador, sitting in the middle of the lot cost $2,665. We were going to be rich enough to be able to afford wall-to-wall carpets once we sold all those cars!”
Excerpted from A THEORY OF EXPANDED LOVE, by Caitlin Hicks.
Editing, sound design and illustration by Gordon Halloran.
Produced in Roberts Creek, B.C. January, 2021
The post SHEA FAMILY MOTORS -Grand Opening! appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
SHEA FAMILY MOTORS
It’s June 15th, 1963 in Pasadena, California. Yesterday, school let out for the summer. Two weeks ago Pope John XXIII died; today, a Soviet astronaut was launched into space.
But for the enormous Shea family, it’s the Grand Opening of SHEA FAMILY MOTORS and everyone is there.
“The little kids from both families didn’t know any better and soon they were chasing each other around the lot, playing hide-and-seek behind the gas pumps. Paul and John had discovered the switch that made the car lift up and down in the bay, and its growling sound started up as the huge metal frame went slowly up on a pole towards the ceiling. The twins looked green and uncomfortable and their small hands were full of bitten doughnuts.”
“Daddy said American Motors had the mid-size high performance luxury compact market to itself, and he was going to sell a lot of cars. The feature car, sitting in the middle of the lot cost $2,665. We were going to be rich enough to be able to afford wall-to-wall carpets once we sold all those cars.”
Excerpted from A THEORY OF EXPANDED LOVE, a novel by Caitlin Hicks.
Editing, sound design and illustration by Gordon Halloran.
Produced in Roberts Creek, B.C. January, 2021
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January 9, 2021
Lost at Disneyland from A THEORY OF EXPANDED LOVE
how many kids get left behind at Disneyland every year? There have to be a few of them. Among all those hundreds of cars in the parking lot, there’s probably enough to form a club. Maybe the club could be called “The Left Behinds” or “Disney Orphans”. How many of the stories could possibly have a happy ending?
“The weird part is, when we lost Dominic, it was hours before we even realized he was gone.
“As I lay in bed, picturing Dominick’s big ears against his recently shaved buzz cut and panicked about him going missing, I got the feeling that someone was at the door to our bedroom.”
-from the novel
A THEORY OF EXPANDED LOVE, Chapter 10 Lost Boys
Today’s podcast Lost at Disneyland is an excerpt from my novel A THEORY OF EXPANDED LOVE. If you haven’t read it and you haven’t already fallen for it, it is available to order on this page, from this website as a paperback book. So you can still have some laughs and nail biting moments as a result of meeting Annie Shea in this novel! Don’t even try to resist!
Go here for reviews: R E V I E W S O F T H E O R Y
You are also welcome to VISIT
and I invite you to join the COMMUNITY of SOME KINDA WOMAN
All members of this ‘extended Shea Family’ will receive a copy of the audiobook of
A THEORY OF E X P A N D E D LOVE
To listen to more SOME KINDA WOMAN stories
go back to:
ALL MY PODCASTS PAGE
The post Lost at Disneyland from A THEORY OF EXPANDED LOVE appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
December 30, 2020
Two questions for The Universe
“Okay,” I said, thinking of all the music that could be brought to life in just seconds at the tips of those long fingers, the wealth of musical information stored in him. I could have asked him to play anything on the piano in the corner right there – in any musical style – and Shari would have been able to do it.
I stood there, trying to measure my experience in this place, this second, this universe. So perfectly normal, it feels like nothing. Me and Shari at The Gumboot, exchanging pleasantries, bumbling our way through this confounding existence. How could he be dying? Neither of us had it figured out.
Below: A community ritual: a home-made boat with wishes for the New Year, being sent out on New Year’s Day in the afternoon off of Roberts Creek beach.Your Mother’s Voice“Who is that? Who is the woman with that voice, saying things only our Mother knew to say? Even the gaps between her words were hers, so typical. But the voice itself, too high, too thin to be Mother’s voice! How could that be?”
The post Two questions for The Universe appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
Two questions for New Year’s Eve
“Okay,” I said, thinking of all the music that could be brought to life in just seconds at the tips of those long fingers, the wealth of musical information stored in him. I could have asked him to play anything on the piano in the corner right there – in any musical style – and Shari would have been able to do it.
I stood there, trying to measure my experience in this place, this second, this universe. So perfectly normal, it feels like nothing. Me and Shari at The Gumboot, exchanging pleasantries, bumbling our way through this confounding existence. How could he be dying? Neither of us had it figured out.
Below: A community ritual: a home-made boat with wishes for the New Year, being sent out on New Year’s Day in the afternoon off of Roberts Creek beach.
Your Mother’s Voice
“Who is that? Who is the woman with that voice, saying things only our Mother knew to say? Even the gaps between her words were hers, so typical. But the voice itself, too high, too thin to be Mother’s voice! How could that be?”
The post Two questions for New Year’s Eve appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
December 19, 2020
CORNUCOPIA: HELD OVER to New Year’s Eve 2020
The story toured British Columbia and Washington state to excellent reviews, and was broadcast on CBC national and regional radio numerous times. This recording features beautiful four-part harmonies by After Hours, a Sunshine Coast vocal jazz quartet, singing Christmas favourites in and out as background to the story. Locals Patrice Pollack, Brian Harbison, Brian Corbett and Mary Ellen Scribner were members of this group and the recording was produced at White Line Studios in Gibsons with Dave Kelln.
CORNUCOPIA traces a child’s love for ice skating back to a moonlit moment on a dangerous frozen lake on Christmas Eve. An ode to creativity, the story reaches back into her childhood and her relationship with her best friend Marnie, who loves to play the drums, but is not encouraged by her family to play. Both girls become women as the town changes and they follow their separate fates, only to be reunited on the same dangerous, frozen lake of Christmas Present.
Performed by Caitlin Hicks, with sound design by Gord Halloran, the short story was available from the Winter Solstice, December 21st, and through New Year’s Eve, 2020 as a temporary episode in the podcast series SOME KINDA WOMAN, Stories of Us .
Check back next year, December 2021, to hear this seasonal gem again!
“What a beautiful performance you gave and I was surprised by how great After Hours sounded. You are a brilliant storyteller! I would do this again with you in a heartbeat!” Patrice Pollack, singer
The post CORNUCOPIA: HELD OVER to New Year’s Eve 2020 appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
CORNUCOPIA: HELD OVER until New Year’s Eve
The story toured British Columbia and Washington state to excellent reviews, and was broadcast on CBC national and regional radio numerous times. This recording features beautiful four-part harmonies by After Hours, a Sunshine Coast vocal jazz quartet, singing Christmas favourites in and out as background to the story. Locals Patrice Pollack, Brian Harbison, Brian Corbett and Mary Ellen Scribner were members of this group and the recording was produced at White Line Studios in Gibsons with Dave Kelln.
CORNUCOPIA traces a child’s love for ice skating back to a moonlit moment on a dangerous frozen lake on Christmas Eve. An ode to creativity, the story reaches back into her childhood and her relationship with her best friend Marnie, who loves to play the drums, but is not encouraged by her family to play. Both girls become women as the town changes and they follow their separate fates, only to be reunited on the same dangerous, frozen lake of Christmas Present.
Performed by Caitlin Hicks, with sound design by Gord Halloran, the short story was available from the Winter Solstice, December 21st, and through New Year’s Eve, 2020 as a temporary episode in the podcast series SOME KINDA WOMAN, Stories of Us .
“What a beautiful performance you gave and I was surprised by how great After Hours sounded. You are a brilliant storyteller! I would do this again with you in a heartbeat!” Patrice Pollack, singer
The post CORNUCOPIA: HELD OVER until New Year’s Eve appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
CORNUCOPIA: the sparkle of winter
CORNUCOPIA begins with “In everyone’s life, there are magic times!” An ode to creativity and raw beauty, CORNUCOPIA is a town so gorgeous that Christmas carols and stories were inspired by its magnificence since ‘time immemorial’. The story is told against the backdrop of a vocal quartet singing Christmas carols in harmony-and reaches back into the hologram of childhood, and a dangerous frozen lake on Christmas Eve.
Performed by Caitlin Hicks, the short story will be available during the 24 hour period of the Winter Solstice, December 21st, as a temporary episode in the podcast series SOME KINDA WOMAN, Stories of Us – on iTunes, Spotify, iHeart Radio and wherever podcasts are found.
The post CORNUCOPIA: the sparkle of winter appeared first on Caitlin Hicks.
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