Heather Rigney's Blog, page 4

BOOK REVIEW: THE NIGHT CIRCUS by Erin Morgenstern

My one sentence review: Breathtaking visual manifestation that invites you to become a spectator in a world filled with magic, intrigue, sorrow, and delicious elegance.

If it were a tea it would be Earl Gray with subtle Victorian steam punk notes infused with metaphysical magic (and magic seems like such a demeaning word—it’s so much more than magic), suspense, and a hint of Shakespeare.

In the elegant, majestic world that Ms. Morgenstern has created, we are swept up in the epic, mysterious game between the brash, unlikeable illusionist Prospero and the stick-to-the-shadows elusive Mr. A. H….you’re not supposed to know his name because he can put a whammy on you, he’s that good.

The story unfolds as these two characters pit protégés against one another in a competition that has indefinite guidelines and a setting that is clear only from the title, “The Night Circus” or “Les Cirque de Réves” or "Circus of Dreams" for the non-French speakers.

The novel takes place circa late 1800s- early 1900s in a time where clocks and steam locomotives were the technological advancements of the day. It’s not hard to slip into a world where color is sparse. When I think of Victorian England, the dominant color that comes to mind is gray, dark gray, and yet, more gray. This setting is wonderfully chosen because it allows the magnificence of the circus, who’s color-scheme is rigidly neutral—black, white, and gray, elegantly contrast against the rich intensity of the magical illusions created by the two protégés, Celia and Marco.

You could spend hours reading solely about the Les Cirque de Réves, and Morgenstern delivers as she indulges you with small chapters that explicitly explore the sights, sounds, smells, and lures of the intricately constructed circus.

When you read these it’s as if you are there, wandering through the black and white striped tents in your buttoned leather shoes, a strange delicious treat in your hand, while the night sky sparkles above your encounter.

The whole experience is luscious!

Celia is Prospero’s daughter. He treats her with so much what-not-to-do-while parenting nuances that you wonder how she is not a more violent, destructive individual. Instead she is lovely—bright, conservative of spirit, controlled and yet both powerful and very warm and likeable in a subtle way. She too, is an illusionist, her extraordinary abilities beautifully explained in a lush believable way by Ms. Morgenstern. We follow her journey back and forth through time as she struggles to identity and fulfill her destiny as game champion all the while employed as the illusionist in the Les Cirque de Réves.

Marco is Mr. A. H….'s protégé found in an orphanage. Throughout the boy’s journey to manhood, Marco is given countless books on conjuring, magic, illusion, mysticism etc. As Marco grows more and more powerful in a vacuum, he, too is given no love. Again, it’s amazing that his character is as likeable as he is given his cold up-bringing. We follow his story, as he becomes the assistant to Mr. Chandresh Christophe Lefévre, the wealthy, flamboyant gentleman who serves as the front man, financial backer, and initial planner for the circus. Marco spends his time in the novel behind the scenes of the circus, weaving his magic workings from afar in an attempt to become champion in his own right. And, oh, these workings are visionary delights!

To say more would spoil the enchantment that is The Night Circus. Yes, there is romance, but it’s so much more than that. Yes, there are other characters that weave their own tales, building to the intense, climactic ending. But you can discover this on your own.

Go on, step right up, buy your ticket, and begin your own journey. I promise you won’t be disappointed…

BOOK REVIEW: MERMINIA by Emm Cole

I made a point in my post, I am a Word Farmer, to support my fellow authors. I’m staying true to that.

But with a disclaimer: I will not review another indie author unless I enjoy their book. To take the time to slam a fellow writer is just plain ugly. So, if the book is indie, and I review it here, it means my socks were successfully knocked off my body when I read it.

Let it be known, that despite appearances, I do not seek out mermaid fiction. I dig mermaids, but not to the extent of a super-mer-fan. That’s not me. I was skeptical before I read MERMINIA. Would I like it? Would I want to return to my GAME OF THRONES reading marathon to escape it? The answer was a distinct, NO. I stuck with it because I was entertained by the world building, committed to the characters, and intrigued by the flow of the story.
Ms. Cole crafts a world in which several species of mermaids coexist beneath the sea.

The book begins with an overview of the story within her story—a myth that explains the creation and subsequent division of land-dwellers/sea-dwellers through the creation of a ring. At first, I thought: a little too Tolkein—ONE RING TO RULE THEM ALL! But no, it leaves the notion of Middle Earth behind in a hurry.

Operating on a territorial clan-system, the mers in her story are physically different in their appearance, behavior, abilities, and beliefs. As in most stories that have a rudimentary feudal system at its core, there is always one bastard who wants to wield power and dominate those around him/her.
Enter Merconius, a Litiant mer and the ultimate crappy father who seeks world domination. 

Guess what he’s searching for? Yes! One ring to… BUT before the story is over in fifteen pages, his young son, Gabriel has a soul and a conscious and throws a sea-monkey (I couldn’t resist!) wrench into Merconius’ plans. I'm not spoiling a thing...you'll see the mechanics of the "how" yourself.
Meanwhile, years later, the quest for pan-oceanic domination continues. Merconious is still hell-bent on using his army to find the ring. This is bad news for the peaceful, but not sissy, Merminians who’s turf needs to be scoured for said ring.

This is where we find our main character, Selinne. 

She’s a Merminian and she has an independent spirit similar to Brave’s Merida. In other word’s, she’s of important birth, but she’s female and therefore expected to behave a certain feminine way which she rebukes. This causes all sorts of problems including her subsequent capture by Litiant soldiers. The novel takes off from there. 
Expect underwater dragons, psychic bitchy mermaids, a love triangle, awesome battle scenes, another creepy mer-species, and a cliff-hanger ending that has me waiting to read more.
Emm has a wonderful way of describing her world, allowing the reader to slip beneath the waves effortlessly and enjoy the nautical scenery. The creatures are unique, frightening, and interesting. The book did indeed pique this reader’s interest and successfully prevented me from renewing my Dysfuntional relationship with George R.R. Martin.
That’s hard to do…I love that big man.
You can get your own copy of Emm Cole’s MERMINIA on Amazon.com and be sure to stop by her author blog, EmmCole.com . You can also find her on Twitter, @byEmmCole

Check out my brand new blog!

It’s been up for some time but I’ve been too lazy busy to announce it…
I have a brand new blog courtesy of the lovely Chelsea Lennox!
You can find her work on her site, Olive & Ivy Design and she also has a lifestyle, fashion, and design blog, too, Olive & Ivy Blog
Not only do I have a shiny new blog look, I have a shiny new author Face Book Page too!

Be sure to “like” me. It makes me look important. 

If you want some “like” love back, I would be happy to click on your behalf. Be sure to leave a link in the comments section below.
I really wanted a carnival theme, a mermaid mention, vintage clip art, a nod to my love of pink and orange, and I may have mentioned that my house has a large red light-up arrow in it.



I think she knocked it out of the park. What do you think?
It’s kind of like "Heather the Southern Rocker Hipster" meets "Heather the writer of dark (but always humorous and quirky) words."
Thank you, Chelsea! You made me look way cooler than I am… and isn’t that the point of the Internet?

I am a Word Farmer

Original photo by H. Rigney
September 2012, Intercourse, PA
I am an indie author. I say that with pride. It makes me feel like a word farmer, bringing my homegrown fiction to the world’s literary farmer’s market via Amazon.com and other Interweb avenues.
If you are not an indie author, maybe you do not realize the amount of work it takes to be a one-person fiction operation. You are a writer, an editor, a critic, an agent, a PR machine, a publicist, but most importantly, you are a supporter of your fellow indies.
We pave the way, all by ourselves, in our pajamas (with coffee) to bring you decent fiction made fresh daily.
Therefore, I will strive to support my fellow, pajama-wearing, coffee-slugging, word farmers by featuring their work on my blog.
I found a tweet by a certain well-known author who writes for a well-known magazine that stated, “I’m so tired of tweets that say, Author ______ recommends this book by Author ____.”
That tweet has haunted me. How the hell else is our kind supposed to get the word out? I suppose if I knew that, then perhaps I would no longer be an indie writer. And besides, it saddens me to think that well-known authors work in a vacuum, never supporting one another, never acknowledging the triumphs and accomplishments of those in their field.
I taught for twelve years. In that time, I found that some colleagues were threatened by the success of others, going to such lengths as to mock them for their efforts to better themselves as teachers. It appalled me to my core. “Aren’t we in this together?” I thought. Apparently no, not always.
As an author, I will do my best to support and encourage my fellow writers. It makes us all stronger, more successful, more confident.
And it brings a better product to the literary world.Isn’t that the point?

New Mermaid Coloring Page - Frida Kahlo!

You may or may not know about my love for the Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo. 
I adore her. 
To celebrate her life, and to ensure that the flame of Frida's brilliance continues to inspire a new generation, I have created a my very own Frida coloring page which you can download here:




How could you not respect a woman who wore a man's suit for a family portrait in 1924:


Frida Kahlo suffered unbelievable difficulties in her life and found solace and a means of personal expression in painting. I admire this amazing woman, because although her life was filled with excruitiating circumstances, she found a way to move forward with dignity and grace (and style too!)

She suffered polio as a young child. 
It left one of her legs shriveled, but she continued to play sports with the neighborhood boys.

She was on track to become a doctor, (yes--she was that bright!) when a freak vehicle accident left her impaled by a metal rod and debilitated by severe back injuries that would haunt the rest of her life. Soon after, Frida's father made her a special easel that allowed her to paint while she lay in bed recovering.

When her husband, a true player-player, cheated on her relentlessly, she continued to paint and had her own affairs with both men and women.

Her poor, broken body prevented her from carrying a child to full-term. This might explain why Frida had so many pets including monkeys, parrots, dogs, and even a deer!

But her spirit could not be crushed.

None of these things stopped Frida from living life and finding joy wherever she could. If you look at her paintings, you will see her pain, her hurt, and the horror she experienced, but you will also find great beauty, harmony, and a zest for life that is undeniable.

I found this beautiful children's book, FRIDA written by Jonah Winter & illustrated by Ana Juan, that encompasses her life reflecting both Mexican folk art and ex-voto paintings:

The pictures are hands-down gorgeous and the little creatures Ana Juan has so lovingly created in the background reflect traditional Mexican folk art characters. Meanwhile, the story of Frida's life has been condensed in such a way that a child will understand her pain and hardship and yet, be awed by both her creative spirit and determination to thrive.

I highly recommend this book. 

If you want to learn more about Frida, check out this site, The Frida Kahlo Foundation website.

Viva Frida!!!xoxoxo,

Leaving Writer's Block for the Road to Recovery

It was a gruesome place to be. Floundering, drifting, aimless, loafing. Pick your lame, idle word and insert it after this phrase: 

"Instead of writing productively, Heather was ___________"

It was a gruesome place to be.

But I made it through! Perhaps I needed a break. Perhaps I needed the time to redirect my writing path. Perhaps I needed to stop and look around Writer's Block, notice the scenery, the people I live with, check my mail, etc. Maybe Writer's Block is not a state of mind, but a location to gather one's creative juices before embarking, once more, along the road to a finish product.

I'm trying to tell myself it was a positive thing and not a complete waste of time that weighed on me like an anchor. 

Gertrude Stein said:


“It takes a heap of loafing to write a book.”
I wonder if she told herself that so she wouldn't see her time spent NOT writing as a bad thing. 
In any case, I got through it with the help of a friend, a nutella,/banana crepe, and coffee. Sometimes when you're stuck, you need someone to drag you back on to the road, away from Writer's Block (aka Loaferville.) You need to air out your brain, and let all the thoughts pertaining to where to take your writing spill forth. And maybe once you do, nothing comes out. That's where a trusted friend comes in. Someone you trust, someone who thinks about the same weird stuff you do and can surf your brain waves when your own mental surfboard has failed you.
Maybe, it takes a good listener to help you write a book. 
Maybe you need a friend to push your car back onto the road. Someone who will wave to you from Writer's Block as you wink at its retreat in your rearview mirror.
Maybe.
At least, that's what this Mermaid is telling herself...;)

FREE Mermaid Coloring Page - #3

Are you liking the coloring pages?

Missed one or two? Click here or here to catch up!
Here's the newest! You can download this one here.

EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEAK! New chapter from my upcoming novel!

Not sure where this is, but it's awesome!So, Evie fans, I've decided to post the first chapter of my WIP (Work In Progress). 

For those of you who may or may not know, I am continuing on with Evie and Nomia from my short story, MERMAIDS ARE NOT NICE, which was featured in the anthology DIVE: A QUARTET OF MERFOLK TALES. I am currently expanding the short into a full-length novel.

The completed novel will pick up exactly where I left off in the short and continue on from there. For those of you who have never read the short, here's a disclaimer: Evie swears like a sailor. There, you've been warned. She has a potty-mouth, but I'm sure she'll grow on you anyway.

Enjoy, dear reader... Oh, and comments, suggestions, favorite parts? All feedback is welcome and encouraged!


Teeth.A sea of teeth.Everywhere I looked my vision was filled with sharp, pointed teeth, filed to precision, filed by years of eating flesh. There was no sound. There was only seawater and it filled every cavity I owned.God, I hate seawater. What the hell do we need the ocean for anyway? It’s not like we can drink the damn stuff. Fucking useless liquid. Oh, I know, where would the cute, little dolphins live? Who gives a shit? And, fuck those damn dolphins. They sure as hell weren’t saving my drowning ass. There were teeth everywhere and enormous rubber duckies. They were coming for me. Large, looming, and yellow, bobbing around, leering at me while something else, something infinitely more sinister darted about. Sliding in and out of the rubber duckies, flashing those vicious, unforgiving teeth at me. But I am wearing an apron and I left a cake somewhere…And then, the duckies parted. Long claws crushed the rubber and the duckies started to deflate as if they were melting, all the bright yellow colors dissolving into the water leaving only her with her wretched dark scales.I saw her and she wasn’t alone. All their mouths opened simultaneously and I just knew they would devour me—all of me, including my soul. “I told you, Evie. This isn’t over and you have something we want…your daughter.”All the air escaped my lungs in a giant whoosh! Panic-fueled adrenaline jolted through my body like shit through a goose and I sat upright.The clock ticked a steady cadence slicing through the silence. Each movement of the second hand sounded thick and deliberate, almost menacing in its regularity. The only other noise was the foul-sounding, flatulent boom of Paddy’s snores.That mountain of a man was so sexy.I wiped the sweat from my brow and sighed heavily.It was just a dream and I was back in my bedroom. The streetlight filtered through the curtains that were blowing gently towards our bed.It’s fucking March. Why is the damn window open?Paddy and his damn fresh air.I threw back the coverlet and got out of bed. The floor was freezing on my bare feet and the air was just as frigid. Cursing under my breath, I rubbed my hands up and down my arms vigorously and padded softly towards the open window.I never made it to the window.Without any warning, I found myself staring at the ceiling and pain bloomed from the back of my skull all the way down my spine to the backs of my ankles. “What the hell?” Patrick roared from the bed above me.“I slipped,” I muttered. I slipped?My feet were wet. Why the fuck were my feet wet? With a groan I rolled onto my stomach and glanced at the floor below the open window.Wet footprints gleamed in the streetlight.A stiffening chill replaced the pain in my spine. My pulse, which had only calmed itself seconds before, quickened as my gaze darted from the floor beneath the open window to the baby monitor on the bureau nearby. The white speaker-like object was on its side and the cord looked frayed as if someone had been chewing on it. It swung, useless in the gentle breeze that flowed into the arctic room.Oh, god no.I grabbed a fistful of the comforter from the bed above me and attempted to haul myself to my feet. I knew the blood was reversing itself in my veins.Hold, the fuck on, Evie…“Bloody hell, woman! Evie, darling, why am I awake at this ungodly hour and why are you on the floor? And why the hell is the window open? It’s March, love. I know you like fresh air, from time to…”“Paddy,” I whispered as my vision drifted in and out of focus. “Shut the fuck up.”“That’s not very lady-like. It’s three a.m. and I have…”“The baby monitor is trashed,” I said with all the strength I could muster. I couldn’t hold back any longer. The blood surged in the wrong direction and I was losing consciousness. I was going to pass out. The last words I uttered before the hardwood floor raced up towards my sleep-swollen face were: “Our baby is gone. That soggy bitch took Savannah…”

Love this: Another Mermaid Coloring Page!

Happy Valentine's Day!
Consider this my Valentine to you, dear reader! Please print, color, hang on your fridge, take a picture, then share it with me and the world!



Please go to the link of the first ever, mermaid coloring page! It's all about iPhone covers... Let me know how you did! Instagram me! Email me (my address is on the sidebar!) Tweet me! Comment below! Just send me some mer-color-love!

xoxox
Your Favorite Mermaid

BOOK REVIEW - MISS PEREGRINE'S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN by Ransom Riggs

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I enjoyed the first half of this book. The plot was intriguing and the flow of the story lead me along, building my curiosity. The ideas were fresh and new to this reader, and I found myself enjoying the experience. Overall, the writing was clever, humorous, and, at times, both lovely and poetic. These aspects of the book were very enjoyable and perhaps this would change my mind about reading a second book.

However, somewhere in the middle of the book I discovered that I was not connecting with any of the characters with the exception of the grandfather. I found myself, much like his former headmistress and lost love, pining for Abe long after he had left.

The use of  vintage, photographic images was, at first, fun and interesting. But after a time, I found the photo references to be forced. It was akin to jamming a square peg into a round hole. Having a peg does not justify filling holes for the sake of filling holes. This forced use of photos made me aware of the writer, something I prefer not to be aware of when I read fantasy.

The main character, (I finished the book yesterday and find myself stretching to remember his name...not a good sign. Ah, Jacob!) I felt that Jacob was mostly unlikable and not all that deep of a human being. His final decision left me questioning his moral character. I also took issue with his lack of questions upon his initial meeting with the islander friends of his grandfather's youth.

The main female lead, Emma (?) was at first, coarse and aggressive which segued into flirtatious and sexually aggressive. I did not find myself enjoying nor relating to either set of qualities and, given her age (both outward and inward), I found these qualities to be even more confusing.

The book ends abruptly with many loose ends, leading the reader into a second, and possibly third, book. This reader isn't all that interested in continuing on the new journey. Especially not a journey that sets out to find a lost character that only arrives towards the end of this first book. Sadly, I just don't care enough to find out what happens to the lost character or anyone else.


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