Eric Kent Edstrom's Blog, page 4
October 25, 2020
More Favorite Fantasies from my readers . . .
My post Top 5 Fantasy Books my readers say got them started sure stirred up some controversy.
So here are more books that my readers insist deserve consideration:
Memory, Sorrow and Thorn Trilogy by Tad Williams: (which is 4 books because the last one was so enormously long they had to split it in two). Start with The Dragon Bone Chair.
I read this series a very, very long time ago. But I remember being absolutely enthralled. So if you love epic fantasy (and I mean epic), this series is a must.
Tigana by Guy Gavrial Kay: I read this back in college, I think. Maybe earlier than that. Kay is a writer’s writer. A number of emails came in reminding me of this one.
The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley: I got my copy through the science fiction and fantasy book club (remember when you could get 10 hardcovers for a buck when you signed up). I didn’t really want to read it, but then I did. Holy cow! The Arthurian legend told from the point of view of the women; and what a powerhouse classic it was. I loaned this book to a girl I knew. Today she is my wife of 23 years.
The Deed of Paksenarrion by Elizabeth Moon: I read this just a year or so ago and I LOVED it! Paks is a sheepherder’s daughter who feels a calling to be something more. Namely a warrior. What I love about this series was Paks’s innate nobility. A hero of honor who it is so easy to root for. The link takes you to an omnibus edition of books 1-3 and it is a steal.
![The Deed of Paksenarrion (Paksenarrion Series combo volumes Book 1) by [Elizabeth Moon]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1603727612i/30291591.jpg)
Chronicles of Amber by Roger Zelazny: this is long series of relatively short books. People who love Amber LOOOVVE Amber a lot. I think I read only the first couple books in the series, but now I’m adding the whole lot to my list after so many people recommended them.
The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind: You have spoken. I have recorded it here. According to my newsletter subscribers any list of important fantasy novels that doesn’t include The Sword of Truth series is useless.
Terry died this past week, so maybe it’s time to check out this enormously expansive classic of the genre. Here’s the first in the series.
The Riftwar Saga by Raymond E. Feist: This is another one of those series I read when I was 14 or 15 and never went back to. Now I’m afraid to re-read it because I loved it so much. I only got a few emails about this series, but I’m including it because those who mentioned it tended to put near their all-time favorites list.
October 18, 2020
The Top 5 Fantasy Books my Readers say got them started
#1 The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien.
This is my shocked face.
October 11, 2020
Nostalgic Read: Lord Foul’s Bane
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If you recognize this cover, you might be overwhelmed with nostalgia. This book by Stephen R. Donaldson introduced me to the concept of the anti-hero.
The main character is Thomas Covenant, a man of earth. He has reason to be bitter. He’s unhappily divorced, and living with leprosy, which has already cost him two of his fingers.
But when an accident transports him into a world called the Land, he explores a fantasy realm populated with wizards, giants, and creatures of surpassing evil.
His wedding band of white gold possess enormous power in this world.
If he can control it. If he can control himself.
It’s a classic in the genre, and unusual in its dark brutality. There are several series within the series. (Yes, series within the series) This is the first book, and it stands alone okay. But you’ll want to at least read the next two once you get started.
Get it at Amazon.
September 11, 2020
It’s the Atmosphere
My name is Eric Kent Edstrom. I’m a book lover and a writer. Here’s a picture of me.
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I’m guessing you are a reader. Like me. That means your to-read stack is . . . well, infinite. Your e-reader or Kindle app is so loaded up with unread books that you might not even buying some of the books that are on it.
I understand that, because I swear my Kindle is actually heavier because of all the ebooks in it. Okay, okay, that might be an exaggeration. But you know what I mean.
I’m going to be honest with you. I’m writing this to convince you to read my book, Thief of Sparks. If you enjoy epic fantasy, I’m confident the story will delight you. I don’t mean to be braggy or egotistical; that’s not my intention at all.
I think reading Thief of Sparks will delight you because writing it delighted me.
Let me explain: I’ve written over a sixteen novels. I’ve written a YA adventure series and a popular dystopian series. I’ve written a thriller (under pen name) and short stories in all sorts of genres. I love them all. But when I began working on Thief of Sparks, I felt like had come home.
Fantasy is the genre that first fully captured my imagination when I was a kid.
It began for me—as it did for so many—with The Hobbit. I’ll be honest, I struggled with The Lord of the Rings when I was twelve. The pace was a bit slow sometimes for my attention span. It wasn’t uncommon for me to take a month or longer to get through one of those books. And that was with reading diligently every day. I was—and still am—a slow reader.
But I didn’t mind it. Because I was absorbed in those stories.
I went right into Terry Brooks’s Shannara series, which was only two books long when I started. (Wow. That makes me feel old!) And then Raymond Feist’s Riftwar Saga, and then Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman’s Dragonlance, And then . . . I think you get the idea.
Fantasy stretched my imagination (and my vocabulary). It showed me characters of modest birth standing up to godlike dark overlords. It told the story of loyal companions, fantastic magic, deep mountain caverns, swarms of vile monsters, and heroes with shining swords. And dragons! OMG!
Fantasy is full of atmosphere: In the morning frost before the battle, a line of horses stamped the turf, breath pluming into the predawn gloom as the men astride them prayed, or trembled, or joked with gallows-humor to their mates. (I just made that up! I think I have a new scene started for the series!)
I adore wise and enigmatic wizards who know more than they tell. Oh, I’m reminded of the urgency of this line:
“Look to my coming on the first light of the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east.” —Gandalf
The Two Towers, by J.R.R. Tolkien
I live for moments and dialogue like that.
Fantasy novels still resonate inside me—with that teenage me—with both their dire, gray-sky atmospheres, and with their shining moments of triumph. And more than anything, they instilled in me a belief that there could be a triumph when things were darkest. They made me optimistic at an age when pessimism and cynicism were seen as cool. Those novels made me want to be honorable, do my duty, and stand up to bullies.
Why am I telling you this? Why am I telling you, a reader who doesn’t need more books crowding the shelves of your home or ereader?
November 16, 2018
Author Note for Daughter of Nothing
Hello, fellow book lover! First off, thank you for reading this novel. Daughter of Nothing was truly a labor of love. And when I say “labor” I mean labor. When I set out to write the book, I knew only a couple things: there would be clones and there would be mind transfer. And though many people have compared the book to the Scarlett Johansen movie The Island, I hadn’t seen the film until I finished the book.
But that actually brings me to one other thing I did know when I started. The story would take place on a Caribbean island. The fictional St. Vitus is based (very loosely) on the island of St. Croix in the US Virgin Islands. I have traveled there many times to escape icy Wisconsin Januaries (and Februaries) (and Marches). And so I placed the Scion School campus somewhere on the east end of St. Croix, a place I love both for its beauty and for the memories my family and I have created there.
To begin work on the novel, I went back to St. Croix, all by myself, and started to write. I spent six days there, working from dawn until about 5pm when That 70’s Show reruns came on. I would make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, watch two episodes and then go to bed and collapse. Rinse and repeat.
At the end of that week, I had outlined an entire novel, written many chapters, and felt like a champion. I went swimming at the nearby Cramer’s Park once, ate a few lunches at the Blue Water Terrace, and drank a lot of Diet Coke.
When I got home, I read through my outline and my chapters. And my heart sank. It was awful!
Until I got to a chapter I had written featuring a character named Jacey. A side character. (Vaughan was the main character, btw). The scene was of a horrific dinner with Jacey, Dr. Carlhagen, and Humphrey. And for me it was solid gold. It was the only thing that survived and became a pivotal scene in the story.
As heartbreaking as it was to throw out all that work, it was clear to me that Jacey was the star. And there isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about her. I admire her gumption, her fierceness, and her loyalty to her friends.
I knew when I started that this book would turn into a series. I thought it would three books. It ended up being four. So many little side characters in this book go on to be big players in later books. I want to mention one in particular. You may not even remember Summer, except that she is in love, love, love with Humphrey. In book two, Child of Lies, she features much more centrally. I adore her. She is spunky, and has a hidden talent I never saw coming until it spilled out onto the page one day.
But don’t worry, Jacey remains the main character throughout the series.
I hope you do give Child of Lies a try.
So now I must get back to my family and two dogs (Brittany dogs Lucky and Arrow). It’s nearly 8 pm as I write this, and I need to wind down so I can sleep, wake up singing, and get down to writing more books for you.
Thank you so much for giving my writing a try. Without readers, writers are pretty much talking to themselves about some very weird things!
—Eric Kent Edstrom (Burlington, Wisconsin)
April 13, 2018
Eric’s Everything: April 9, 2018
[This is one of my weekly emails. Some links are deactivated because they are defunct or they are only available to email subscribers.]
Well, it’s Monday. And that means I, Eric Kent Edstrom, am emailing you.
And that means it’s EVERYTHING day! And you, dear reader, volunteered to receive this madness. So here it is. Change your mind? The bottom of this email will show how to get off this runaway train of delightful verbiage.
Right off the bat I want to mention the ongoing Daughter of Nothing sale. It’s going to be .99 cents or your currency’s equivalent for a few more days. In fact, at some point today a Bookbub email will go out to folks in UK, CA, AU, and IN promoting the deal. But you US folks can still get in on sale, too. Actually, it’s discounted pretty much everywhere and in every currency on all the sites. Amazon, Kobo, iBooks, B&N, Google Play, and many others.
Bookbub is the most powerful way for authors like me to promote our books. It’ll be interesting to see if they’ll accept a promo for the US in a couple months. Anyway, chances are awfully good you already have a copy. But if you don’t, now’s the time to snatch one up. (Tell a friend!!!)
Here’s a link to the Bookbub listing. I noticed this morning there’s a spot for reviews there now. Anyone who wants to cut and paste their Amazon review over to BB, I’d be most obliged. 
Eric’s Everything: March 26th, 2018
[I post my Everything email a week after it goes live to subscribers. Some links are deactivated for this archive.)
I’m sorry for doubling up on the emails. But this is my first EVERYTHING email. When you selected to get everything from me…this is one of those emails. These go out once/week (more or less). If you would prefer to change your preference just reply and let me know. I don’t have the automated process set up yet. Just tell me “new releases” or “discounts only” and I’ll get it changed. You can also unsubscribe using the link at the bottom of this email.
STARSIDE SAGA Book 6 Title Poll!
Maybe you’ve read all five books and are excited about this. Maybe you haven’t ever read any of my books, but here’s your chance to weigh in anyway.
The poll is on my Starside Saga Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963036490534008/ [POLL CLOSED]
You’ll have to ask to join the group. Then I have to approve you (I will, but it’s a manual process that Facebook won’t let me automate). Once you’re in, you can vote in the poll. You can also see other updates I post there. It’s pretty much a ghost town right now because I just started it and there aren’t many people there. Maybe that will change, maybe it won’t. All I know is I’m having fun!
Here’s a screen shot. You can see only a few votes have been cast.
So what is my progress on Starside Saga book 6?
I’m glad you asked. It’s coming along quite nicely. As of typing this email, I’ve written over 66,000 words on it. For reference, the first three books are around the 50k mark. The Force of Destiny was over 90k words. That’s how these fantasy series go. As the scope of the storyline increases, the books get longer. I’m trying not to do ginormous 200k books, though.
If you want to keep daily tabs on my progress, I update my Progress Meter of DARKNESSS! almost every day. I also post brief notes about what I wrote and how I felt about it. I’ve clipped and pasted a few recent entries below for you to sample.
3/25/2018: A nice solid day of writing. About 2k words and some things happened that I did not expect at all. Deepening the world and a bit about dragons, which is interesting. When I first discovered that dragons existed in Kila’s world, I was delighted. There’s some interesting lore behind them and why they exist at all. I’m eager to explore more of that.
3/24/2018: Just a little bit of writing today. Wrapped up a Fallo scene with a rather unexpected turn of events. I’m pretty eager to see where it goes! Should easily cross the 65k mark tomorrow.
3/23/2018: A very good day today. Just over 2k words. No problem. Easy after yesterday’s big win. An interesting scene today with Fallo, who has a major subplot in this novel. He’s learning what it means to be a Shadline. And it is not at all what he expected. But that’s great because it is taking the story in a direction I never in a million years would have guessed. This is why I don’t outline.
3/22/2018: I woke up this morning and was like, “You know what today is? Today is take-no-prisoners-day. I’m going to go for a big wordcount to day. And so I did. 7300 words today. BOOM! The Progress Meter of DARKNESS!!! (aka PMoD) has been duly updated to reflect this massive advance forward. Blasted right past the 60k word mark. It’s going strong. Loving it. Wrote some absolutely killer scenes today. Tomorrow won’t be quite so ambitious because my hands are killing me already from typing so much today.
3/21/2018: Got into a nice writing groove today. Really liked the writing, but I’m not sure today’s main scene fits in the book. On the other hand, I’ve come to trust my instincts and this has a good feel to it. Doubt is not gut feeling. Doubt is the Critical Voice trying to draw attention to stop me from writing. Suck it, CV! I wrote it anyway.
3/20/2018: Another good day but a bit under the wordcount target. I’m trying to meet a min. 2k per day with the goal to build that higher as I get to the last third of the book. Very good stuff, though. Also revised the previous day’s work a bit after thinking about it. Adding in some details. Gotta say, I love that scene.
SERIES RE-BRANDING
If you have been following my writing since the beginning, you know my first series was The Undermountain Saga.
Well, I’ve changed the titles and re-branded the whole series. Why? Because I didn’t feel readers could get a sense of what sort of book they’d be getting by looking at the covers.
Cover art is a tricky business. I want to be accurate, but also I want to grab attention.
Will this re-brand work? Only time will tell. But one thing I had been struggling to covey is the subject matter of the books. They are about the legendary creature “bigfoot’, also known as Sasquatch, and related to the Yeti. Anyway, this is not a monster-in-the-woods story (though it starts out that way). It’s a YA science fiction epic, with strange aliens, teleportation, and doomsday weapons.
So I decided to embrace the weirdness of a bigfoot story and let my bigfoot flag fly!
I present to you the BIGFOOT GALAXY series.
Here’s the sales pitch:
“Not your daddy’s Bigfoot!”
They’ve been here thousands of years. Watching. Waiting. Pretending to be less than they are. And now six teens have stumbled on their high-tech city hidden beneath the mountains.
Six troubled teens embark on an Outward Bound style excursion in the Canadian Rockies. But their grizzled guide knows they’re being hunted. Not by bears. Not by men. But by a strange creature he’s seen only once before.
When 16 year old Danny and his friends becomes separated from the guide, they encounter a beast of legend: Bigfoot. Danny’s life will never be the same. Swept away to the high-tech Bigfoot city of Undermountain, the team must work together to escape a war between two alien races. But working together may be a bigger challenge than their captivity.
Finding themselves trapped in the middle of a galactic war, one becomes more than human, one becomes less. One fights, one surrenders. All must face the truth of who–and what–they are.
Eric Kent Edstrom combines clever world-building with his trademark fast-paced action. Known for his unique “heart humor,” Edstrom’s writing is entertaining, thought-provoking, and full of twists you’ll never see coming
If you haven’t read the series formerly called The Undermountain Saga, maybe now is the time. If you would like a review copy, just email me and I’ll hook you up. The Undermountain boxed set has not yet been rebranded, but it will be soon.I desperately need reviews on it. All reviews for the existing books will carry over to the new titles.
Oh yes, there’s more. You signed up for EVERYTHING!
I apologize in advance for this terrible pun. (Actually, I don’t.)
“I guess you could say I’m . . . Under the Tome!”
Yes. I’m still reading Stephen King’s Under the Dome, a trillion page epic. Actually it’s 1000 pages and the hardcover could be used as a weapon. Enjoying it, but starting to get impatient to read the next item on my TBR list.
When I’m not reading with my weary eyeballs, I’m listening with me ears to audiobooks. Fans of my YA dystopian series The Scion Chronicles have likely already heard of The Gender Games by Bella Forest. I’m listening book one right now and am enjoying it. Like all dystopian fiction (mine included) the setup is pretty implausible, but that only adds to the enjoyment for me.
If you are a creative (writer, artist, crafter, cook) I highly recommend the Akimbo podcast by Seth Godin. It is pure inspiration.
Well, that wraps up this update. I hope you found it entertaining (or at least edifying). Thank you for your support.
–Eric Kent Edstrom (And his Inspector of Breakfast Plates, Lucky)
February 14, 2018
Book Status: Starside Saga Book Six
December 11, 2016
A PhD in Cosmetology (A Christmas Story)
She doesn’t fit in with her family. She doesn’t like Christmas. But a holiday at home gives her an unexpected gift–the chance to give.
A PhD in Cosmetology
It’s not so much that I was opposed to holiday consumerism or the fact that the decorations started going up at Wal-Mart before Halloween was over. The reason I hated Christmas was because I had to go back to Wisconsin, to visit my parents, and aunts, uncles, and twenty-seven cousins.
To say that I didn’t fit in would be akin to saying that a class K star is larger than a class M star. We’re talking degrees of magnitude here, folks.
Of the twenty-seven cousins, only two had gone to college. Only one—me—had gotten a Ph.D. To make matters worse, my field is the study of universe, the origins of everything. And my mother, bless her heart, never did understand the difference in meaning between cosmology and what she told everyone I did: cosmetology.
When I tell this to my colleagues, I have to wait while they wipe tears from their eyes. They calm down enough to make eye contact with me and then they burst into new peals of laughter. A Secret Santa at the University once gave me a nice pair of barber’s shears tied with a red bow.
On a Christmas not long ago, I dragged my heels all the way from Texas to the frozen tundra of Wisconsin. I confess, my heart sank when I pushed through the front door of my parent’s home and set off the jingle bells hanging from the inside door knob.
I stepped into an environment that would not dip below 79 degrees Fahrenheit for the duration of my stay. At Christmas time the furnace rarely needed to operate because there was always a roaring fire in the fireplace. And there were twenty-seven of my cousins, five pairs of aunts and uncles, a few single aunt and uncles, and of course Mom and Dad, the five dogs, the three cats, and the goldfish, although I don’t think the goldfish added any BTUs to the 1,852 square feet of their little ranch house in a nondescript subdivision somewhere in the greater Milwaukee area.
The smells of turkey, stuffing, coffee, and baking buns hung in the chewy air. In approximately three hours, all of those delectables would be churning through my stomach and on their way to my hips.
An instant sheen of preparation sprouted on my forehead as I stepped inside, and I hastily peeled off my outer layers and hung them on a peg near the door.
This was the house I had grown up in, and it had not changed in the years since I had left for my freshman year of college in Madison. The same fussy petunia wallpaper closed in from all sides in that coffin-sized entry foyer. The same woven twig wall pocket held the same plastic-stemmed tulip arrangement. Hanging next to it, the same painting of the disembodied hands posed in prayer. And next to the hands The Lord, in all his bearded, Caucasian glory, hands extended as he floated in a halo of light.
Dad’s dingy Green Bay Packers knit cap with the yellow tassel lay on top of his grease-covered leather work boots with the toes worn away, exposing a rusty portion of the steel toe. The leather fingers of his work gloves poked from the quilted down jacket he had owned for twenty-five years. Jack’s Country Tap was embroidered in gold thread on the left breast .
A little girl no more than three-and-a-half years old toddled at me like the cutest zombie ever. Arms out, eyes beaming, she cried, “Auntie Rose, Auntie Rose!”
Technically, I’m her cousin. But at thirty-two, I fit the role of Auntie better. I didn’t mind. In my family such distinctions aren’t meaningful anyway.
I swept little Emily into a massive cuddle-hug and kissed her soft head, then picked my way into the living room where at least half of the twenty-seven cousins were lounging and watching a football game. It was on mute since Mom technically didn’t allow the television to be on during holiday gatherings. There was one exception, though. The exception: the Green Bay Packers playing the Chicago Bears. Upon seeing me, Dad heeled down the footrest on his easy chair, planted his Solo cup on a one of the forty wildlife coasters (his is always the howling wolf), and hoisted himself to his feet.
If you’ve ever watched a show about how to dress to look your best, you’ve probably seen someone like my dad. His style is what is known as “before-the-makeover.” He wore no fewer than four different hunter’s camo patterns. His pants, undershirt, sweatshirt, and ball cap each had a different theme: fall leaves, marsh grasses, tree bark, evergreen needles with pinecone accents.
“I almost didn’t see you there, Dad,” I said, going for the cheap laugh with my old standby joke. He never got it, but everyone else thought it was hilarious.
He wrapped me in a bear hug, enveloping me in the not-unpleasant fumes of Budweiser and Old Spice. He rasped my cheek with his half-day whiskers and smeared the abrasion with a kiss. “There’s my baby.” He released me, but only to grab my shoulders and hold me so he could take a good look at my face.
He seemed satisfied. “You’re mother’s in the kitchen.”
The cousin closest to me in age, a lean, balding guy with a goatee curtaining his sternum, waved his hand. I waved back, but he bent sideways and looked past me.
“Hello to you, too, Simon,” I said as I got out of his way. Obstructing the Packers game was much worse manners in that house than, say, not greeting a cousin you hadn’t seen for an entire year. The others pretty much ignored me, except Jimmy Two, a boy of about twelve who seemed to want a hug but didn’t want to be seen angling for one. I gave him a one-armer and tousled his hair.
“Did I hear someone come in?” a high-pitched voice called from the kitchen.
No one answered. A glance at the TV told me it was third down and two on the Packers’ thirty-five. Down by three. Fourth quarter. There would be no answer to Mom’s irrelevant questions.
I slipped into the oven that was the kitchen and into Mom’s domain. Nine more cousins crowded around various bowls and plates, all doing cookingly things.
Mom ran at me, taking tiny little tiptoe steps that made her bounce up and down. “Oooooh! Rosie!” Another hug, this one in a cloud of Aquanet and White Shoulders. “You’re just in time to cross the buns.”
“It’s destiny,” I said.
She shrieked in laughter and tottered to the pantry cabinet, yanked out a spare apron, and tossed it to me over an island counter so covered with serving platters not one square millimeter of Formica showed through. I tied on the apron (decorated with a cartoon bikini body and Ft. Lauderdale emblazoned on the breast), and shouldered my way through the loving gauntlet of aunts and cousins who squeezed me and offered generally approving assessments of my waist circumference and comeliness.
I set about drawing sugary crosses atop all the buns and submerged myself in the flow of conversation. At some point, a glass of spiced wine slipped down my throat, and the sauna-like heat worked loose the knots in my shoulders.
Roars of glee poured in from the living room. “Go, go, go!” My dad’s voice boomed the loudest, like a thundergod commanding the Packers’ running back to score. A crescendo of cheers told me the player had obeyed.
I absorbed the gossip. Kelly was pregnant with twins. A blessing. But she didn’t know what they were going to do. Jimmy One had gotten laid off on Friday. Right before the holidays. Benji got a bad report from the dentist. He just refuses to floss no matter what his mother threatened him with. Dex won “two hunnert dollers” in a scratch-off and didn’t tell Carrie, but she found out from Kyle who she saw at Walgreens when she was picking up Grandma’s arthritis pills, so she told Dex he’d better return that video game machine or he’ll be sleeping on the sofa until the Fourth of July. And Mom saw on the CNN about how people are losing their identities to computer hackers so she tells Dad to always turn it off but he doesn’t listen and she’s always going in to shut the damn machine off. Aunt Rita says she saw an article that people are sometimes bankrupted by hackers. That reminded cousin Ginny to call her step-brother in Eau Claire and tell him not to tell Mom about the thing they talked about on Wednesday.
I deflected questions about why I was still single. I declined to be set up with Gerry Tutts, even though he was totally legal because he’s a third cousin and he’s got a good job in real estate and has a Lexus and everything. I lied about the guy I’d been dating and didn’t say how he’d gotten a job in Seattle and chose his career over me and how I’d cried for three days straight and ate nothing but Ben and Jerry’s. I insisted I didn’t want kids just now and that someday I would, but I’d chosen the career I’d chosen and it’s very demanding.
I felt the eyes paint me with sadness. Poor Rosie couldn’t get a man to commit, those eyes said.
I mentioned an episode of a sitcom I’d seen a commercial about, and they started off on a new line of conversation that didn’t involve “what to do about Rosie.” And I could go back to crossing buns and sipping wine and letting my cheeks flush only from the heat and the alcohol and not mortification. I could relax then, because I didn’t have to dwell on hating Christmas anymore because I was no longer the subject of conversation.
* * *
Later, in the somnolent afterglow of utter gluttony, I listened to my sixteen-year-old cousin Ashli complain about boys. Then, shyly, she scooted closer to me. “I need to ask you something really important. You know, since you’re a professional in the field?”
“Of course.” I was always ready to discuss the origins of the universe.
Ashli’s eyes glistened, and I realized she was struggling to hold back tears. “This girl at school. She said I do my eyeliner wrong and it makes me look like a startled hamster.”
I closed my eyes. Took a long breath. Then, with a smile, I stood and extended my hand. Ashli took it and I dragged her into my old bedroom. I plopped her in front of my vanity.
For the next fifteen minutes, I taught Ashli everything I knew about cosmetology.
“A PhD in Cosmetology” is Copyright © 2016 by Eric Kent Edstrom
November 3, 2016
Daughter of Nothing featured on eBookDaily
This was a fun surprise. eBookdaily featured Daughter of Nothing today. A great signal boost to get people started on the series. Check out their site and get loads of ebook deals.


