Sarah Chorn's Blog, page 25

Ten Mini-Reviews of some Great Nonfiction Books

As you may or may not know, when I’m really deep into editing, I tend to only read nonfiction history. There are a few reasons for this. First, I don’t want to “cross streams” between what I’m editing and what I’m reading. Secondly, I have to get so into whatever I’m editing, that I just get kind of burnt out on the genre after a while, so I turn to my other love: historical nonfiction.

I am always reading. Always.

I’m trying to catch up on some reviews, and some books in general, so I spent some of this morning reviewing books on Goodreads, and I figured I’d move those mini-reviews over to my website. I hope tomorrow, or Thursday, to have a review of a book by epic fantasy author Ulff Lehmann on my website.

Anyway, here are some mini-reviews of some great nonfiction books I’ve read recently. You should really check them out.

This is one of those books I had to think about for a while. In truth, I think I’m still thinking about it. It tells the story of the epic migration of African Americans from the south, to friendlier skies, often in the north. It’s harrowing and heartbreaking and educational. Taking place around Jim Crow, it’s just a huge part of history I knew nothing about, and I honestly think that’s really, really tragic.

Part storytelling and part journalism, The Warmth of Other Suns spun a web around me, and before I realized what was happening, I was too engrossed to stop reading. Now, I will say that it is not an easy read. There are a lot of horrifying things that are discussed here, like lynchings, and things of that nature. The start of the book really moved me, and made a huge impression, just because it is so brutal, and the author does not shy from that.

But this is ultimately the story of people, and the things they had to endure, and the reasons why they left everything behind in an attempt to find a better life, elsewhere.

We are such a divided country right now, such a polarized nation. These stories form the fabric of who we are as a nation, and I think now, especially, it is important to examine books like this so we can better understand who we are as a nation, where we came from, and where we are going.

Pivotal. Groundbreaking. Eye-opening.

5/5 stars

I have to admit, if you tell me to go read a book about forensics, I am not going to be excited. I don’t know why, but while that sort of thing may interest others, it does almost nothing for me. So, going into this, I read this book because of the poison, not because of the forensics.

That being said, holy crap was it interesting. The chapters are broken up by poisons, and the author tells readers how the poisons were used, some specific cases of said poisoning/incidents, and how this incident transpired and impacted the evolution of NYC’s forensic medicine, and all of this happened during prohibition.

So, selling points: prohibition, poisonings, forensics.

Is it perfect? No, but this book was really, REALLY interesting and a hell of a lot of fun.

4/5 stars

Okay, so I know nothing -NOTHING- about this time period, really, though I’m finding myself suddenly fascinated with prohibition and all the things that happened during that time period. I kind of fell on this book when I was at the library, so I picked it up and I’m really glad I did.

I do think that sometimes the author got a little too lost in the weeds, a little too focused on everyday tedium, but by and large, this book really impressed me.

Al Capone is a hell of a character, and it makes sense why, when you say his name today (nearly 100 years after his hay day in Chicago) everyone still knows exactly who he was, if not the details of his life. On the other side, you’ve got the law, the men who were trying to enforce prohibition and try to stop all the gangs and violence.

I really enjoyed seeing how Capone and Ness really balanced each other out in some ways, though it took me some time to become as interested in Ness’s story. I have to admit, the guts that Capone had to do some of the stuff he did was just… amazing to me. Like, a reporter spurned him, so he bought the newspaper the reporter worked for, for example.

This book really brought to life a lot of the prohibition issues, but mostly it really showed me a side of Capone that I (not knowing much about the man) wasn’t aware of before. While I do think the author gets kind of lost in the weeds, and Ness didn’t ever interest me as much as Capone did (which might just be who I am. I tend to like villains more than heroes), and I would have liked to see a bit more of prohibition as a whole, I really, really liked this book and I’m currently on the search for more of this nature, in this time period.

4/5 stars

I really sort of get a weird kick out of the strange things people have done (and do) to improve their health (like Gwenyth Paltrow’s vagina eggs) and this book is seriously right up my alley. Each chapter is broken into a different substance, and then the author goes through that substance and talks about how it works, how people used it, side effects, and how it’s handled today (if it’s handled at all).

And look, it’s FASCINATING, but also REALLY FUNNY.

You learn about things like puke cups, and how “wandering wombs” were treated, and what happens to people who decided that eating gold would cure stuff, and how lead was used as a medical treatment, and cocaine, and arsenic and all sorts of stuff.

This book really went fast because I just couldn’t stop listening, and I was bothering my husband constantly with “Wait, listen to this weird thing I just learned…”

Listened to this on audible. Superb narration just sent it over the top.

5/5 stars

I listened to this on audiobook and to say I couldn’t put it down might be the understatement of the year. The narration was superb. The story itself was also just… wow.

I have a degree in one of the health science fields, so stuff like this just interests me. I like learning about how things were done back then, how lives were impacted, how science evolved. The Victorian standard of medicine is just… repulsive, but more than that, this book is just FULL of stories of how things were done and how Joseph Lister became so fascinated by medicine and science, and how he eventually took the way things WERE and changed them, dramatically improving the standard of health practice at that time.

And you’ll learn about the only surgery in medical history with a 300% mortality rate and trust me, you want to know about it because… wow.

Seriously. If you want to read one book about this sort of stuff, I’d settle on this one. It’s captivating, and if you do audible, superbly narrated.

I am so glad I was not alive back then. 

5/5 stars

I really, really enjoyed this book. I randomly decided to read it when I saw it on Audible and I realized that I basically know nothing but the highlights of Washington’s life. I think, over time, the man has become sort of a cardboard cutout. We Americans don’t seem to know much about him. He’s that stern political figure who crossed the Delaware, was the first President, and had wooden teeth. Not much else. So, I was really, really interested in learning more about the man. Learning how HUMAN he is after a lifetime of seeing him as basically anything but.

Chernow does a FANTASTIC job at fleshing out this man, showing how he became who he became. He had a fraught relationship with his mother. He fought like hell to try and bring his older brother through TB, he made some military mistakes in Ohio, he surveyed land. He was staunchly loyal to England until he wasn’t. He wasn’t as educated as many of his peers, and so was looked down on from time to time due to that.

For some reason, learning that he never wore a wig, rather just powdered his hair to look like a wig really got me going because… why? I mean, I get it. It was fashion and all that but that’s a lot of powder. Must have sucked to clean his hair.

Just all very interesting, and told in such a way that had me glued to my chair. I’m not really one for military books, and most of those details seem to fly over my head but this was just INTERESTING and told in such a way that I could visualize what was going on, and how, and why, and the people involved. Chernow has a knack for writing in an accessible way, without losing any of the interesting points.

Highly recommend.

5/5 stars

This is one of the best books I’ve read all year. Well, actually I listened to it, and the narration was wonderful, so if you’re an audiobook person, can’t go wrong here.

This tells the life stories of the women Jack the Ripper killed, and I honestly could not stop listening to it. She doesn’t go into their deaths at all, rather talks about their lives and the struggles they faced. So, while you’re learning about the very human, very real struggles of these women, you’re also learning a lot about working-class Victorian life in London, which is something I knew nearly nothing about. You learn about the workhouses, the dirt, the sickness and inability to treat it, the impact of a lack of birth control had on women, the crime, the poverty, how women earned safety and stability in this world.

You also learn some surprising facts, like I was under the impression that Jack the Ripper only killed prostitutes, but only two of the women killed were known to be sex workers, and there is no evidence that the others were at all.

There is so much I could say about this book, but I’ll leave it here for now. It is one of the most human, fantastic books I’ve read in a long, long time and I really, highly urge everyone with an interest to read it.

5/5 stars

This is another book that I wasn’t sure I’d like to read but then I ended up listening to it and I just became totally and completely obsessed, not only with the book but all the google searches I did to learn more about stuff that was discussed in the book.

First, Rachel Maddow narrates this, and her voice is basically everything I ever want to hear. It’s fantastic.

Secondly, this book is just… impressive in scope. It is really focused on the oil industry, but also largely on the “resource curse” which is a concept that has always interested me. That’s when a country, (and there are a few covered in this book, as well as Oklahoma) finds a nonrenewable resource (like oil) which should, in all likelihood, make this country very wealthy, but instead the rich get richer and the poor get poorer and WHY that happens. That kind of stuff really sticks my ass in the chair and gets me listening. I’ve always found social stratification very interesting, but Maddow has a way with boiling things down, while using dry humor, and really picking at the core of the issues.

She’s a fantastic storyteller, and by the time the book was over, I was honestly mad that it was over. It is just that good.

5/5 stars

When I told my husband I was reading this book, he said, “Sarah, that sounds like the most boring book on the planet,” and yeah, it might because it’s literally about a rock. However, microhistories can really kick your ass if you find the right ones, and this one had me hooked from the first page.

So, as you can guess, this book is about… uranium. That rock that so many want. The author goes through history, starting out with a mine in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and then moves a few hundred years back in time to this small mine in the Checz Republic where silver was mined and coines were made from the silver, but at the end of these veins of silver would be uranium. No one knew what it was, so they thought it was junk. They’d chuck these rocks out into the forest to get them out of the way. Nearby villagers started getting sick, and no one knew why. Fast forward a few hundred years in the future, and you have the Curies, who bought a wagonload of this rock for really, really cheap (the locals were anxious to get rid of it because who wants a big pile of rocks in their back yard) and then they discovered how valuable it was. A hotel was built advertizing radium baths, and you could stay there and go find your very own uranium to take home with you (yikes).

Anyway, it goes from there, but it’s really, really interesting to see where this rock came from, and how it has become such an interesting, and important part of our world.

4/5 stars

I happened upon this book at the library when I was picking up western history books for research for Of Honey and Wildfires. I didn’t really know what it was about, but I figured “why not” and went with it.

First, let me say, Hampton Sides is one hell of a writer, and I am now slowly working my way through everything he’s written. He just has this engrossing, captivating use of words that was almost as interesting as the story itself.

Blood and Thunder tells the story of the battle for New Mexico. When Polk was President, his goal was to see a nation spread from sea to sea, and he gave himself four years to accomplish that goal. The first big thrust of this was to get Texas and New Mexico away from Mexico and make it part of America. Well, Mexico didn’t like that idea, and so shenanigans ensued. However, it’s not really that simple. Into this story you’ve got a clash of powers, you’ve got trade routes, mountain men, explorers, Kit Carson, entire armies moving, and the Navajo Nation.

This is not a little book, and it tells a fascinating, relentlessly moving story about the quest for land, and the people who got sucked into the conflict sometimes willingly, sometimes not, and how it impacted lives.

It was, quite honestly, one of the most gripping United States history books I’ve read, and about a very specific point of US history that I knew less than nothing about, written just beautifully.

This is how history should be written.

5/5 stars

Deep Dive | The Early Oil Industry

Ah, friends, I’ve got a new book I’m writing, and therefore a ton of new world building research I’ve been doing.

Of Honey and Wildfires is not set in the same world as my Bloodlands trilogy. This is a story all its own, with characters all their own. It’s set in a sort of Wild West/frontier world, in a place called Shine Territory, which is cut off from the rest of the world… for reasons.

In this world, magic, or “shine” as its called, is pulled out of the earth (like oil), or hacked out of the earth (like coal). Essentially, it is a nonrenewable resource and everyone wants some of it. Therefore, a lot of my research has had to do with the early oil industry, coal mining practices in the 1800s, and how the humans working and living around these places where natural resources were so plentiful and promising were impacted.

Today, I would like to talk to you a bit about the early oil industry, and how my research on it has impacted my world building for Of Honey and Wildfires.

The early 18th century marked a change in society, from agrarian to more industrial as steam engines and the like were introduced to the world. Suddenly, coal was a thing people could use to heat houses, and even power engines. The benefit of coal was that a little of it went a long way. A half-ton of coal produced four times more energy than the same amount of wood.

Soon, people started wondering what else the earth held in it (some say that environmental concerns drove people toward oil, some say it was just a natural progression). Regardless, the oil industry entered the American landscape in 1859 with a well dug in Pennsylvania.

That, however, is not really where the oil industry starts. Not globally, at least. Now, follow me, dear reader, while we go down a rabbit hole that will take us back a few thousand years, to China.

The earliest sign of wells being dug is in the Zhejiang Province, in China. Evidence for wells, dating back some 7,000 years ago, when people were just starting to enter the region and cultivate the land. At this time, people in the coastal regions would boil water from the sea to produce salt. Salt was a valuable preservative, used to preserve foods as well as in cooking. As people moved inland, and the population became denser, people inland began to dig salt wells. The first recorded salt well was dug in the Sichuan Province around 2,250 years ago.

There is evidence of the drilling techniques changing over time, from using percussive methods to break through the rock and shale, to eventually using bamboo and pressure, which allowed people to dig deeper wells, easier. The first well to reach more than 1,000 meters in depth was the Shanghai Well in 1835. Oil, natural gas, petroleum and the like was often an unwanted byproduct of salt water drilling.

Early 20th century scene. Zigong City, with hundreds of salt transportation boats on the Fuxi River. (Image from Zhong & Huang) Taken from the article linked one paragraph down.

Salt was often traded on boats through rivers, while bamboo pipeline was created to pump oil and natural gas. For a long time, the salt and natural gas industry were two separate beasts (the salt being more useful and desired than the oil), but there is evidence of a fledgling natural gas industry dating back to 61 BC. Around the 16th century, technology was developed that allowed people to cultivate more natural gas. Usually, until this point, wood had been used to boil the water, which would then evaporate and leave behind salt. Now, natural gas could be used, preserving more trees and reducing deforestation in areas.

This merging of the salt and natural gas industry is what allowed Zigong’s salt production to reach an industrial scale. (I highly recommend you read this article about all this to gain more depth and detail, as well as pictures.)

Another fun fact: Herodotus claimed that asphalt was used in the construction of walls, nearly four thousand years ago, and much of it was found on the banks of the river Issus. (more here)

This brings us to the US oil industry. In 1849, a man named Samual Keir began extracting oil from the saltwater wells on his property. After some experimentation, he discovered that the substance that was the byproduct of his saltwater wells had the same chemical properties of the stuff his wife was being prescribed for her ailments. He decided to see what else it could be used for. He started selling his oil for medicinal purposes and, of course, being the enterprising soul he was, he grew rich.

In the 1850’s, Kier started drilling for crude exclusively, rather than finding it as a byproduct of salt water. He joined up with John T. Kirkpatrick and started the first oil refinery wherein they refined the oil so it was cleaner and more efficient “carbon oil.” (more here)

From news of Kier’s success came the Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company, created by George Bissell and Benjamin Silliman. (more here)

In 1859, one very lucky chap, Edwin Drake, was sent by the Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company to rural Pennsylvania dig, specifically, for oil. He ended up with a well that was 69.5 feet deep. While whale oil had been used for a long time, this “rock oil” was safer than many other oils used on the market, like camphene, which was explosive. This discovery turned Pennsylvania into one of the first “producing states.”

Edwin Drake, right, stands with friend Peter Wilson of Titusville, Pennsylvania, at the drilling site – but not the original cable-tool derrick – of America’s first oil well. Photo courtesy Drake Well Museum. (Image found in this article.)

Fun fact: crude oil had been found in medicine as far back as 1814, though the oil used for these was found using primitive drilling methods, and the people who found this crude (in Kentucky and Tennesse, respectively), were often drilling for brine, using “spring poles” instead of the pressurized drilling used in Pennsylvania. The small amount of oil was an unwanted byproduct and thus, put into medicine. (more here)

Truthfully, oil has been used throughout civilization in many different ways, but usually, the finding of it was met with dismay. It was an unwanted byproduct of drilling to find brine, which was a valuable source of salt, used to preserve food, and etc. (more here)

Anyway, back to good ol’ Americana Black Gold.

Word got out about Drake’s find in Pennsylvania, so all sorts of people decided to come out and find their own oil. There was so much competition, that within two years, Drake had to shut his well down. Not long after, more oil was found in states out west, and Pennsylvania sort of dried up while people hied off to Texas and other states to strike it rich with the black gold.

This seems like a good place to stop things for now. It leaves a jumping-off point for what happens next – the introduction of big oil companies, Rockefeller, frontier life, western expansion, the resource curse, and I can even drop down some Kit Carson and his eldest daughter posts, because that enters into Of Honey and Wildfires as well.

What I do want to say is that the early oil industry plays a huge part in the magic system for Of Honey and Wildfires. The discovery, the boom, the way it’s used from medicine, to building things, lighting lamps, the alteration of industry and more. The cost, and all that. It all makes an appearance in the “shine” magic of Of Honey and Wildfires.

Most of Of Honey and Wildfires focuses on how resources, like oil, can impact the lives of those around it. The resource curse plays heavily in the setting, and the world that this book takes place in. The division between those who have, and those who work for those who have. I think it is very stark, and very evident when one sees how the oil industry started, and how it has changed over time. But, in order to get there, I have to lay the groundwork. Introduce you a bit to what oil (and “shine”) did, why people wanted it, and the hope so many saw in it.

It’s a pretty interesting, and lush topic to research, as it has had such a fundamental impact on the global economy. So, I ask you, what happens in a fantasy world where “shine” (magic) is found deep in the earth, and needs to be drilled/pumped/dug out of it?

Well, it mirrors a lot of what happened in the oil industry, from modern discovery on, and it’s both ugly and hopeful.

(Of Honey and Wildfires is set to drop in early 2020.)

SALE | Grimtober Fest

Every October, a bunch of dark fantasy authors get together and kick off the Grimtober Fest. What this is, is a gigantic sale wherein a bunch of grimdark fantasy books are marked down to $.99 for a week.

There are some fantastic books on sale this week as part of this little event, and I am beyond pleased to announce that my own book, Seraphina’s Lament, is part of it!

So, if you’ve got a hankering to read something dark, or you just really want to stock up on your dark fantasy reads, you really can’t do better than this. Check out this link to see which books are on sale, and buy as many as you’d like!

Brief Reviews of Select Great Courses Lectures

This year I discovered the Great Courses lecture series on Audible, and it’s basically been my brand new addiction. I decided to briefly highlight some of my favorites, and a few short (very short and informal) reviews of each of them. If you like the Great Courses, I’m always looking for new ones to listen to. What are your favorites? Which ones would you recommend?

This lecture series is pretty self-explanatory. I really enjoyed it, though it was more of an overview, in my estimation, than really in-depth information, and that’s really what my biggest complaint was. That being said, I’ve spent damn near three years reading everything about Russia I could get my hands on, so that’s probably why this felt more like an overview than anything else. (Basically, I did it to myself.) There are lots of jumping-off points here for rabbit holes, if you’ve got the desire to jump down any. Furthermore, the lectures are well done, and really engrossing, and Steinberg really knows his topic.

4/5 stars

Oh, fair reader, let me give you some background before I tell you how HOLY SHITBALLS AMAZING this lecture series is.

I almost didn’t get this lecture series, because it seems very intro-level and I am *not* intro-level. I studied art and music history for YEARS on a university level. I have played French horn for damn near 25 years now, in more classical symphonies than I could possibly ever count. I have played the piano for 30 years, performance level. I *know* music. But, I was feeling a bit… I don’t know… frustrated. This year has been hard for me due to health issues… and I wanted something artistic. Something that would remind me that the world is still a beautiful place despite my weird headspace and the drama circulating around me. So I took the leap and started listening.

I *DEVOURED* these lectures. I mean, granted, music is my bag. I love music. I get lost in it. I always have. That being said, Greenberg has such a fresh and revitalizing perspective into so much of this stuff, and while some of it was just a refresher course for me, I learned SO MUCH I didn’t know before. And the fact that he peppers his lectures with snippets of the songs/music he’s talking about makes it just that much more captivating. (I am still absolutely tickled by the fact that Beethoven wrote a symphony about his gastrointestinal distress, and now I will hear farting noises every time I listen to that symphony due to this lecture series, thank you very much.)

Look. You can’t go wrong with these lectures. They are amazing. Captivating. Informative. I never wanted it to end. In fact, I’m in the middle of listening to this series a second time because I loved it so much.

5/5 stars

First, you need to take into consideration that I read about tyrants for fun because the darker side of the human psyche — how far people are willing to go to realize their vision of the ideal society — FASCINATES ME.

So, basically, this right here is my jam.

It’s hard to get really in-depth information in a series of 30-45 minute lectures, but Liulevicius does an amazing job. I felt like I knew more coming out of this lecture series than going into it, and that’s always what you want for something like this. I was captivated, and it gave me so much information to expand on and learn from.

5/5 stars

This might be one of my favorite things I’ve listened to in a really long time. It’s long. I mean, you’ll be investing quite a number of hours into this lecture series but it will positively fly by. McWhorter is incredibly enthusiastic and passionate about his subject, and it really comes through in every lecture. I learned SO MUCH from this. Sometimes he went on little side tangents that didn’t mean a whole lot to me as he kind of quibbled with the nuances of some linguistic thing, but he generally veered back to the topic at hand pretty quickly.

I was particularly captivated by how words change over time, and how history and the evolution of language mix and merge.

This lecture series is positively AMAZING and it really made me wish I’d taken classes like this when I was in college.

5/5 stars

I’m not really a person who goes “WOO, EGYPT.” I mean, it’s interesting, and I like learning about it, but what interests me more than pharaohs and pyramids and stuff is all the weird inbreeding and backstabbing done by the Ptolemies (They really took “keep it in the family” seriously.). Color me weird. Anyway, I’ve been on a bit of a “Great Courses” binge this year, and I ran across this one. It had great reviews and I figured “Why not.”

Brier is really passionate about his topic, and he knows so much about it. He’s been on some television shows. I believe he says in one lecture that he’s the first person to mummify a body in our modern times… or something to that effect? I mean, dude really enjoys the topic. The lecture series is mostly linear, though he does sometimes go off the timeline to discuss one thing or another, like, for example, we’re going along and then BAM, there’s two or three lectures about hieroglyphics and all the details of them/reasons behind them, and while that was interesting, after two lectures on it I was sort of tuning him out and I wanted to get back to the point.

Anyway, this lecture series covers everything you could ever want covered, by a man who probably knows more about the stuff than I ever thought possible. If he does get a little sidetracked occasionally, it’s usually worthwhile. I left the lecture with a new, broader understanding of Ancient Egypt, and a new appreciation for it. 

4/5 stars

Guest Post | Jesse Teller on The Pristine Moment

About the Author

Jesse Teller fell in love with fantasy when he was five years old and played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. The game gave him the ability to create stories and characters from a young age. He started consuming fantasy in every form and, by nine, was obsessed with the genre. As a young adult, he knew he wanted to make his life about fantasy. From exploring the relationship between man and woman, to studying the qualities of a leader or a tyrant, Jesse Teller uses his stories and settings to study real-world themes and issues.

He lives with his supportive wife, Rebekah, and his two inspiring children, Rayph and Tobin.

Buy Onslaught of Madness here .

The Pristine
Moment

If
you are lucky in life, you get one. The really lucky ones get three. So far in
my 43 years of life, I have had six. Six pristine moments I would never change.

Every normal experience has some sort of stress. Every meal we eat, every car drive, every book, we have some sort of distraction, some sort of smudge.

Maybe
we are thinking of something else. Maybe we are hungry, uncomfortable, maybe
the activity takes longer than the time we have to accomplish it, or we have too
much time to analyze it when it is over. In this world, in this era, there are
very few times when everything lines up and you have a moment, no matter how
long, that cannot be improved upon.

When
I graduated high school, I went on a trip to Milwaukee. I was given an audio
book of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.
I started it on my tape player when we left Milwaukee. I listened to it all the
way home. The story started slow, but as it progressed, as I traveled down that
dark river, and things grew ominous, the sun went down. We made a few stops,
gas, food, but never very long, and I do not even remember them. I was trapped
in Conrad. By the time the story got dark, really dark, the storm began.

It
was immense. The lightning, the sheets of rain. The horror outside mimicked the
horror in my mind. As the final terrifying revelation came, the lightning became
an explosion. When the story was finished, we pulled into the driveway. When
the story was finished, the storm had died down to distant rumblings and a
brief lighting of sky on the horizon. That was my first pristine moment.

I
read Dante’s Inferno two years ago in
one sitting. I started at eleven at night and finished at six in the morning. I
faced the horror and majesty of Hell in an island of light, for every light in
the house was turned off, except those burning in my office. Everyone innocent
was asleep. I was the house’s last sinner, sitting in my office and witnessing
the workings of Hell. When it ended, the sun came up, the day began, and the
moment was over. One pristine experience, one moment I would not change a
second of.

The
other night this happened again. My friend and I were supposed to hang out and his
truck had trouble. I put my wife to bed, kissed her well and went to pick him
up. I was on the interstate in a breath, driving the short distance, listening
to blues, when Jonny Lang’s song “The Truth” came on. The heartbreak in that
song. If I held my hand out and could grasp the power of the song, and I
squeezed, pure liquid ache would run through my fingers and into the car.

The
volume was perfect. I didn’t have to turn it up or down. The hum of the road
brought a lonely bass to the song I never would have heard before. The light of
the dashboard, the slow march of the street lights on the highway. One semi
tractor trailer to pass as the guitar wept and moaned, and a quick exit from
the highway. A perfect dismount as the song ended at a lonely street light. A
pristine moment I will never have again. The song was the perfect length.
Everything about the moment was pure.

A
collection of songs put together for me by a friend to ease my heart late at
night while the house slept. A dance on a dance floor so perfect, at such the
right moment and ending with unexpected flourish, unchoreographed and
fulfilling. My life has had six perfect moments. The writing of a letter to a
friend of mine. Just the right length. Just the right setting. Just the right
volume. Just right.

As
writers, we look to bring that experience to our readers. We yearn for the idea
our book will hit the right person at the right time and bring to them the hum
of perfection. In my newest release, Onslaught
of Madness, I hope to have done that. I have given you the very best I am
capable of at the moment. The cast of characters to bring you in, the
heartbreak to twist you up. You will feel hate, love, joy, and victory. You
will experience the best I have to offer.

I hope for you it brings a pristine moment.

Book Links:

Amazon
Goodreads

Author Links:

Website
Facebook
Instagram
Twitter
Goodreads

Review | The Last Girl – Nadia Murad (TW: Rape and brutality)

About the Book

WINNER OF THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE



In this intimate memoir of survival, a former captive of the Islamic State
tells her harrowing and ultimately inspiring story.



Nadia Murad was born and raised in Kocho, a small village of farmers and
shepherds in northern Iraq. A member of the Yazidi community, she and her
brothers and sisters lived a quiet life. Nadia had dreams of becoming a history
teacher or opening her own beauty salon.



On August 15th, 2014, when Nadia was just twenty-one years old, this life
ended. Islamic State militants massacred the people of her village, executing
men who refused to convert to Islam and women too old to become sex slaves. Six
of Nadia’s brothers were killed, and her mother soon after, their bodies swept
into mass graves. Nadia was taken to Mosul and forced, along with thousands of
other Yazidi girls, into the ISIS slave trade.



Nadia would be held captive by several militants and repeatedly raped and
beaten. Finally, she managed a narrow escape through the streets of Mosul,
finding shelter in the home of a Sunni Muslim family whose eldest son risked
his life to smuggle her to safety.



Today, Nadia’s story–as a witness to the Islamic State’s brutality, a survivor
of rape, a refugee, a Yazidi–has forced the world to pay attention to an
ongoing genocide. It is a call to action, a testament to the human will to
survive, and a love letter to a lost country, a fragile community, and a family
torn apart by war. 

320 pages (paperback)
Published on October 16, 2018
Nadia’s Initiative
Buy the book

This book was a library loan.

This is a book I’ve been kind of waffling on reviewing, and the reason why is because it’s hard to read. Not because the language is elevated or anything like that, but because it talks frankly, and brutally, about institutionalized rape in the Isis operation in Iraq and Syria. It took a lot out of me emotionally to read this book, but I’ve read it twice now and I honestly cannot put it down.

So, trigger warning. If rape and/or brutality bothers you, please skip over this review.

The
thing is, if you asked me for a list of things I know nothing about, Yazidi
culture would be pretty high up there. I only heard about the Yazidi people due
to the war with Isis. If it hadn’t been for that, and news reports floating
around about how Isis was imprisoning Yazidi girls and women and turning them
into sex slaves (called sabaya), they’d
still be relatively unknown to me, and now that I’ve read this book, that’s a
real shame.

Anyway,
let me tell you a bit about this.

Nadia
Murad was born and raised in a small, intimate village called Kocho, in
northern Iraq near the Syrian border. Her family, devout Yaidis, were close.
She had a lot of siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews, and while they were poor
and there were, of course, trials and growing pains in her childhood, she does
an amazing job of painting the typical Yazidi girl’s life, and how the war with
Iraq, the toppling of Saddam, tensions with neighboring villages, religious
differences and etc really shaped her life. However, in the midst of all this turmoil,
she also does a wonderful job of educating her reader about Yazidi culture, the
foundational beliefs, traditions, and their outlooks on life and love.

Perhaps,
as a girl, she comes across as a bit of a dreamer. She wanted to open her own
hair salon with her niece, and loved going to weddings, where she would help do
the hair and makeup of the bride, and then keep pictures of them to use as
inspiration when she opened her own salon when she was older. Her father died
when she was young, and her family pulled together to make it through. Things
were not always easy, but she seems to drift through difficulties with poise
and grace.

She was in her teens when Isis became a threat, and due to an honor killing done by a Yazidi family in a nearby village, tensions were already high between the Yazidis and the neighboring Muslim groups. She talks about honor killings, and does not excuse them, but rather is really open about how they happen, and how this particular honor killing turned simmering tensions into a boiling over of violence. Then, Isis comes and lays siege to her village for two weeks, after which point all hell breaks loose.

She
does not hide what happens to her, nor does she dance around the bush at all.
She doesn’t go into graphic detail, but it is horrific and while I do not cry
often when I read books, this one made me cry in a few places. She talks about
watching Isis load her brothers onto trucks. Talks about the gunfire, talks
about being separated from her sisters, mother, and nieces, the sexual
brutalization on the bus all the way to Mosul. She talks about the slave market,
and how she, and other girls were bought and sold, forced to convert, signed “marriage
contracts” and then were sold again when the men got sick of them. She talks
about punishments and finally, her escape, which is nothing short of heroic.

There
are some passages that really move me, because they are so poignant and cut to
the heart of the human experience, a part of it, at least, that I could never
possibly understand in the depth that someone who experiences it has.

“I still think that being forced to leave your home out of
fear is one of the worst injustices a human being can face. Everything you love
is stolen, and you risk your life to live in a place that means nothing to you
and where, because you come from a country now known for war and terrorism, you
are not really wanted. So you spend the rest of your years longing for what you
left behind while praying not to be deported. Hezni’s story made me think that
the path of the Iraqi refugee always leads backward, to prison or to where you
came from.”

And

“At some point, there was rape and nothing else. This becomes
your normal day. You don’t know who is going to open the door next to attack
you, just that it will happen and that tomorrow might be worse. You stop
thinking about escaping or seeing your family again. Your past life becomes a
distant memory, like a dream. Your body doesn’t belong to you, and there’s no
energy to talk or to fight or to think about the world outside. There is only
rape and the numbness that comes with accepting that this is now your life.
Fear was better. With fear, there is assumption that what is happening isn’t
normal. Sure, you feel like your heart will explode and you will throw up, you
cling desperately to your family and friends and your grovel in front of the
terrorists, you cry until you go blind, but at least you do something.
Hopelessness is close to death.”

Nadia eventually escapes, and that is quite a harrowing story as well. Apparently the man who helped her escape is living in Germany now, and is dealing with his own trials (read more about him here).

The point is, this story is open and honest, it’s brutal and it really, really affected me in ways I have not been effected for a very long time, if ever. Nadia has won the Nobel Peace Prize for her work with Yazidi women and refugees impacted by Isis. Her home is destroyed, most of her large family is dead (though some survived through impossible circumstances).

Essentially, The Last Girl is a story that more people need to hear about. It is the story of genocide, of ethnic cleansing, and what happens in the world when evil goes unchecked. It is not an easy book to read, nor should it be. You should not read it if you get triggered by violence, and especially rape and brutality against women. She talks a lot about the rules and “laws” that governed Isis regarding their sexual slaves, and how those rules were often broken. She talks about the logic of these sexual slavery rings, why some were bought, and some given as a reward. She goes into so many cultural things that are horrifying, and just… astound me, I guess. Like the women under Isis who knew everything that was happening, and just kept on letting it happen. The first man who bought her forced her to strip naked their first night together, and spoke on the phone to his wife while he was with her. Another man who raped her lived with his mother, and she was in the kitchen in the room below her when he came into Nadia’s room and started groping her.

And I am just so repulsed by it all that I have no words. None.

I could not put this book down. It haunts me. It really does. But I think it is also an example of how sometimes being uncomfortable is necessary. People need to know the stark reality of this conflict, of ethnic cleansing, of what happens to the voiceless and the overlooked. Witnesses are needed, and being a witness is rarely a comfortable thing.

For
every one woman like Nadia out there, there are thousands upon thousands who
have stories left untold. She is telling her story, but in so many ways she’s
telling the story of all the women who are unable to speak for themselves. Not
just Yazidis, but everywhere.

5/5
stars

Smoke and Stone – Michael R. Fletcher

About the Book

After a cataclysmic war of the gods, the last of humanity huddles in Bastion, a colossal ringed city. Beyond the outermost wall lies endless desert haunted by the souls of all the world’s dead.

Trapped in a rigid caste system, Nuru, a young street sorcerer, lives in the outer ring. She dreams of escape and freedom. When something contacts her from beyond the wall, she risks everything and leaps at the opportunity. Mother Death, a banished god seeking to reclaim her place in Bastion’s patchwork pantheon, has found her way back into the city.

Akachi, born to the wealth and splendour of Bastion’s inner rings, is a priest of Cloud Serpent, Lord of the Hunt. A temple-trained sorcerer, he is tasked with bringing peace to the troublesome outer ring. Drawn into a dark and violent world of assassins, gangs, and street sorcerers, he battles the spreading influence of Mother Death in a desperate attempt to save Bastion.

The gods are once again at war.

511 pages (paperback)
Author’s webpage
Buy the book

I edited this book, so take that into consideration when you read what follows.

I don’t typically talk much about the books I edit. There’s a reason for that. I feel like once I’ve broken through the reader/editor barrier, I’m too close. That being said, sometimes I edit a book that amazes me so much, I just need to shout about it a bit.

This is one of those.

Fletcher made it onto my radar a few years ago, when someone basically said, “If you like dark fantasy and you haven’t read Fletcher’s stuff, you’re missing out.” Since then, I’ve read a few of his books and listened to one audiobook and I keep coming back for more. There are a few things that stay similar throughout his work, though. He’s dark. He always has a really unique world, and a magic system that matches. What I like most about his books, though, is how tight and well-crafted his prose (well, everything really) is. There’s never a wasted word. Never a sentence that doesn’t need to be right where it is.

Smoke and Stone is no different. In fact, regarding prose. They are exceptionally tight, and he wrote with an eye toward allowing his readers to not only enjoy the book, but to move through it as quickly as possible. That’s not to say that this is an easy book to read. There are a lot of layers and depth here, a lot of nuggets sprinkled throughout that subtly lead you along the path, but it is saying that Fletcher doesn’t want you bogged down in things that don’t matter. He’s narrowed his focus, and his focus is incredibly tight. This makes what is there, that much more memorable, with an impact that will just leave you staggering at various points.

The bonus with that is it allows you to really get into the mindsets of the characters he introduces to you. Things are not always what they seem, but while he deliberately exposes his characters’ secrets, and also shows the depth, and layers of the world he’s created. Reveals, exploration, and moments of understanding are timed perfectly. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever read before — trust me — but the way he writes will really allow you to appreciate the unique qualities of all of this book in ways that you probably wouldn’t, otherwise.

The plot is relentless. Along with his focused prose, his plot is perfectly measured. Never a dull moment. Never a scene that doesn’t lead you toward the poignant end. Never a moment that doesn’t matter. The book churns determinedly through this hardscrabble world, never shying away from uncomfortable situations or plenty of violence, and it takes you along with it because, quite honestly, it’s just as addictive as the drug-based magic system he employs.

The real beauty is in the details, in those tiny flourishes that he never overlooks in favor of the grander whole. The relationships that form, the pasts that drive both main point-of-view characters, the incidents that impact their current decisions, the effects of all these drugs, the positives and negatives of just about every situation they find themselves in, as well as the magic system. Everything is covered, and while there aren’t always flashing lights and signs that say, “LOOK AT THIS” the fact that sometimes these details are just sort of dropped in makes them somehow both more powerful, and more real.

So, aside from all that, what else do I want you to know about this book?

It’s unapologetic. It will make you uncomfortable. It might even offend you. Please don’t let that stop you. Art shouldn’t be comfortable. Good art should be the exact opposite, and this book delivers.

This is, in my humble estimation, the best book Fletcher has written yet. If you’re a fan of dark themes, of unique twists, of the relentless deployment of story, then you need to give this a read. While it is full of so many good qualities I mentioned in this blog post, it is also shockingly, stunningly human, and that’s what makes everything he’s done work so well. It’s not just a great story, with great writing, and great execution, Smoke and Stone is held together by the glue of the human experience. It’s not always graceful, it’s not always comfortable, but it is absolutely unforgettable.

Read it.

5/5 stars

What to Consider Before You Hire an Editor

Over the weekend, I taught a class on things to consider before you hire an editor. This is one of my favorite classes to teach. I’ve taught it a few times, and each time people really receive it well, and I really love doing it. There’s always a good amount of conversation and back-and-forth, as well as questions. I just really dig it.

Anyway, I taught this class again a few days ago. I shared my slides the next day with my Facebook writing group, and it was suggested that I put them as a blog post so people can access and see it easier.

Now, the class was an hour long, so there was a lot of elaboration and explanation you won’t get from looking at the slides. As always, your mileage may vary, and there are always exceptions to every “rule” so keep that in mind.

Generally, for this class, I gear it more toward indie authors or people who are looking for an editor before they agent hunt. I usually try to take the questions I get asked the most, and answer them in this lecture.

Note: I had one hell of a time getting these slides big enough without being blurry and weird, and I just gave up, so if you can’t read them well enough, feel free to email me and I’ll shoot you a pdf version.

And… here it is.

A Thing That Happened.

I’m really not sure if I should post this. Part of me thinks I should, but another part of me thinks I really should just keep all this to myself. I… don’t know. I might post this then delete it. We’ll see. I mean, I really still am thinking that a large chunk of my problems was the fact that I suck at being a person who exists in the world, mixed with “Utah culture” which ended up being a toxic duo over the weekend. But on the other hand, even if it is just me sucking at life and “Utah culture” mixed together, maybe people should be aware of how this sort of thing can make others feel so they can tone down the “us vs. them” rhetoric next time?

I don’t know.

To say I’m uncomfortable right now is an understatement of the year. I don’t like showing off my weaknesses, and ultimately, I feel like this entire post makes me look very, very pathetic and weak.

Big sigh.

Here’s my underbelly.

So on Saturday, I went to a local writer’s convention. I was asked to do some stuff there, as well as teach a class on editing (which I will upload the slides as a blog post in a few days).

My experience was… not good. There were a lot of reasons for that. I went on a typo-laden bender on twitter complaining about it on Sunday. The organization was kind of abysmal. There were a lot of things there that just… didn’t work out well? Like one of the reasons authors go to events like this is to promote their work, but the author book signings weren’t promoted at all. No one knew they were happening, and so it basically amounted to authors standing there for a little bit wondering why we were there and then leaving. (The person running the bookstore told me that most signings didn’t have anyone show up at all, and most authors left halfway through their time slot because, basically, what’s the point. She also complained about the lack of signage about the events because no one knew they were happening.)

I hosted a table, and I never really understood the point of that. My food was just-out-of-the-refrigerator cold, which did not help my overall “what the hell am I doing” feel (though cold food is the hotel’s fault, NOT the convention’s). I left halfway through the lunch and nobody really noticed, which says a whole lot about the value of “hosting a table.”

I went to a lecture early on. It was on marketing. I went to it because I thought, “Well, I’m at a book convention and I write books so I should probably learn how to market the damn things.”

It ended up being the weirdest class ever. It was more geared toward writing content for companies and websites, as well as informative/commercial-ish 30 second videos. It kind of devolved into discussions of McDonald’s and Pepsi commercials. I’m not sure how that relates to books, but whatever. She asked the class at one point, “Who is here to learn how to market your book?” and literally everyone raised their hands and there was basically no information other than “keep your audience in mind and stay true to your brand” in there about marketing. Like, I didn’t show up to a writing convention to learn about the faux pas McDonald’s in the UK.

I was apparently supposed to be on some events that weren’t on my schedule and I felt really bad about that. There was one thing I was supposed to be at, but it wasn’t posted, so someone had to track me down for it. It was annoying, but no big deal, ultimately. I more felt bad that I’d missed something than anything else. At one point a woman cornered me to ask me where I was and why I didn’t show up to the thing I was apparently supposed to be at on Friday night (it wasn’t on my schedule) and I felt really bad that I missed something and someone had wanted me to be there.

So that was weird. And I went on Twitter, and I ranted about all of that and how I generally felt like I was basically just there to fill space and my presence didn’t actually matter at all. I’m up against an editing deadline right now and the entire day I was basically thinking, “I’d be doing so much more if I was at home right now.”

And I’m going to be a bit honest here.

I’ve had a whole bunch of health issues recently, between chronic illness and cancer, I’ve been pretty homebound over the past few years. It’s sucked, but it’s meant that while I have a vibrant online community, my local community is basically null and void. I go to these things because I want to network. I love talking to authors, to other people who get it. I love the interaction. I love podcasting, talking to people in person, actual HUMAN conversations with people who know what it’s like to word. So I go to these things with high hopes that hey, I’m finally a functioning person (sometimes) and I have the energy and ability to do this (sometimes) and they WANT me there. I have things I can OFFER and maybe I can come out of this with a REAL COMMUNITY.

Basically, I get my hopes up.

Now, on the other side, I’m really, really horrible at socializing. I’ve been too… cloistered… for too long, I think, so I’m just awkward, and I’m an introvert, and I just don’t know how to do it. So at this convention, I told them I’d do everything – ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING – I could. I FORCED myself to not be allowed to hide (which I would do, because that’s my nature). I forced myself out of my comfort zone, and I just… left feeling like something was personally wrong with me that kept people from wanting to interact with me.

And the reason for this is probably due to the people I was around due to my schedule and the things I decided to do. You know how these things go. You have a schedule of stuff you’re expected to do, and you also have stuff you want to do, and sometimes both of those forces collide to keep you circulating around the same people for vast swaths of time. Well, that was Saturday.

The long and short of it is, I was inundated with really weird religious conversations all day, which left me incredibly uncomfortable, to the point where I literally hid in the bathroom to get away from it.

For example, at this one point, I was at a thing, and I couldn’t really get away for reasons. Anyway, this group of probably about six people who all knew each other surrounded me to discuss missions for about 20 minutes. And that’s fine, you know. If that’s your bag, it’s your bag and it’s Utah so I expect it. I’m really good at just rolling my eyes and ignoring people, my usual modus operandi.

But these people start talking about missions, which evolved into a conversation where they started discussing how true the church is and all these poor diluted fools who don’t believe in it, and how they don’t understand how people can write books that aren’t “in line” with the “church values” and evidently “some people just enjoy the adversary” and “their books really pay for it” by being “trashy.” And they are saying all of this while throwing me these really, uncomfortably obvious side-eyes. And while this was happening, they were all selling each other books, also while pointedly looking-not-looking at me, and also not including me or my book in this impromptu book exchange they’d struck up.

The line was drawn, and I was on the wrong side of it.

I felt like I was in high school and the popular group was obviously talking about me in front of my face while not saying my name. People can say soooooo much to and about someone without ever talking about them directly.

My favorite part of this specific incident was when someone in this group asked what my book was about, so I told them, and they all sort of laughed in that one way that is both really condescending, and says so much and then one person says, “Oh, that’s just so ambitious for someone like you.”

I felt like I’d been slapped. I didn’t even know these people.

(Full disclosure, I left that event even though it was really awkward to do and I kind of made a little scene by accidentally bumping someone with my backpack while I did it.)

They discussed something they’d read for a while, and it amounted to, essentially, all the characters in this story need to repent and the author probably does too for writing characters who are this “morally adversarial.” (insert titters and polite guffaws here)

I really feel like I should say that there is a writing convention ran by this specific religion in Utah, and people seem to really love it (literally, I’ve only heard great things about it), but THAT IS NOT THIS CONVENTION. This was NOT a religious thing, it was secular.

These situations and conversations would just go on and on and on and on. It got to the point where I left one event 30 minutes early to get away from them. I hid in the bathroom once to stop hearing their testimonies for ten damn minutes already. And these people would get offers to do things from various other people (I swear to god they knew everyone, and everyone knew them), like right in front of my face, and I was blatantly not included in any of it. It left me feeling like I didn’t matter because I didn’t fit in the correct box. Like, if I’d just stood up and said, “yeah, I went to the temple yesterday” and spoke like someone from Utah County, everyone would have suddenly realized that I was a person who existed and I mattered and had things to contribute. Hell, I might have sold some books. And that might sound dramatic, but after a few hours of this crap, that’s literally how I felt.

Ultimately, these conversations that buzzed around me for half the day, involved a rather large group of people who seemed to know just about everyone, so it just kept getting bigger and bigger and louder and louder.

The day basically amounted to me understanding that I was “wrong” fundamentally, and “too ambitious” and my book is “trashy” because I “follow the adversary” and I don’t understand that saying actual swear words, really says a lot about a person’s character, and none of it good, and if I’d just join the church, I’d realize how fantastic life is once I’m “on the straight and narrow.” There’s just a different feel to people in this religion, dontchaknow, and it really doesn’t feel good to be around people who are not of this religion. It’s like wearing the wrong size clothes. Also, the president of this writing organization uses the word “fuck” and they aren’t sure if they can be part of it anymore because “fuck” is just… too much (insert collective dramatic gasp here). I mean, they aren’t even comfortable saying the word “heck” and here’s the president saying things like “I don’t give a fuck” and ohmagollygoshdarn. And books with swears… wow, let’s not even go there (my book has swears).

And while none of this was said directly to me, it was all said very loudly around me, for half the freaking day, so the points were made.

It was so prevalent, I literally hid in a bathroom stall to get away from it.

And the killer is, they’d have these big conversations, and I’d sit there thinking, “Someone has to be hearing this crap. It can’t just be me who is this uncomfortable. Someone else has to be thinking that these people are just making this entire event really, really awkward. Someone else has to feel this ostracized.” I’d look around, and no one would even seem to notice, or if they did, it was to say, “Oh hey, (name here), I’ve been looking for you!” and then the group would just get bigger.

So basically I went to this thing really looking for networking and kinship and all that and I ended up in were weird classes, an unattended book signing no one knew about, a weird table host at a cold lunch, and cornered by a bunch of people who were very devoted to making those who were not of their particular religious persuasion keenly, sharply, uncomfortably – hide in the bathroom to get away from them – aware of how not like them they are.

Now, not all of this is the convention organizer’s fault. In fact, most of this stuff is easy to fix. Post signs about signings. Help people who attend be aware of the fact that authors are there and they WANT you to know about their books. Make sure people teaching classes target their classes toward what the convention is actually about. If you’re going to have people host tables, make a point to the activity, or just bag it because I really didn’t understand that at all and I don’t think it would be something anyone would miss if it was gone. I didn’t even know I was supposed to be at this thing until I got a surprise email, and I think that’s a miscommunication, so that’s probably something on both ends but it worked out so who cares.

The hotel could warm up their food.

And it’s not the organizer’s fault this clique was weird, and it’s not their fault that our schedules crossed paths enough for this to become a problem. You can’t control everyone who is in one place at one time. I totally get that, but I haven’t felt like that much of a blatant OUTSIDER, and not “good enough” based on the fact that I’m not part of a certain group, or that completely, awkwardly uncomfortable in my life. Ever. I cannot underscore that enough. This stuff might seem like small potatoes to you, but it was HOURS of the “us vs. them” line being drawn in the sand, and me being shown/told for HOURS which side of that line I was on and it SUCKED.

I texted my husband at 2pm and said, “I want to go home. I am soooooooo uncomfortable.” I was, at this point, hiding in a corner of the lobby I’d found, for some peace and quiet. And that’s, honestly, something no one should ever feel, and I don’t know how to fix that because how can you tell someone to not be an asshole? Well, “Don’t be a dick” is pretty easy, but for some reason, that feels too simple.

And honestly, I keep thinking this is all my fault, and my problem, because I fail at being a person in society. That’s what I keep circling. Do I suck so much at being a person that I literally just repel people? Is something wrong with me? Did I not pass some secret test? I’ve been wondering that since Saturday. Is something wrong with me? And I just don’t think I (or anyone) should ever leave an event wiping away tears because they can’t figure out if something is fundamentally flawed with them as a person. Is my lack of a religious persuasion really that big of a deal? Apparently it is, and that is just a horrible way to feel. I can’t change who I am, and I left that convention feeling like maybe that’s the piece that was missing. I should be someone else. I am not, and therein lies the problem.

And writing this, yeah, I’m wiping away tears. Again. It really hit me that hard.

So, all of this is a thing that happened, and it sucked, and I went on Twitter to rant about it. Then after I decided I don’t want to be “that person” who just goes around ranting, so I deleted the thread and I tried to sort of erase my tracks because I really am not into “naming and shaming.” I read the book, So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed. I just really don’t want to be that person who makes someone else the way I’ve felt since Saturday. And I figured it’s probably my fault because I suck at existing or something. I decided I’d focus more on my online community and just stop trying to be involved on a local level. No need to keep trying to cram a round peg in a square hole. I’ll do everyone local a favor and just sort of fade away.

This sucks, because I LOVE TEACHING WRITING-RELATED STUFF and I LOVE INTERACTING, and I’ve been to cons and I LOVE THEM… but maybe I’m just too… weird… to be social on a person-to-person level. Maybe something really is wrong with me. I don’t know.

Anyway, the con did some things right, and I really want to highlight that. First, I was a pain in the ass to schedule. I could only be there one day. I wanted to do everything I could but I had ONE DAY to do it and they worked with me. There were one or two mistakes, but it’s a big thing and that’s expected. Every time I had a question or comment, someone answered me right away, and then made sure I was answered well. They planned things down to the letter, and had things set up really nicely. It was easy to access, and very accessible to someone (like me) who has physical limitations. It was easy (in most cases) to figure out what was happening where. There were always classes, always things going on. I had some weird timing issues with getting my books into the bookstore, and they literally bent over backwards to accommodate me. I highly admire the event, DESPITE my experiences there, and if I had a different experience, I probably would be all gung-ho about going again and again and again.

My class was on “things to consider before you hire an editor” and it went really, really well. People seemed to really enjoy it. There was a lot of conversations, a lot of discussions back and forth, and I’ve already had a bunch of people contact me for the powerpoint slides (which I will load up on my website sometime this week). I LOVED IT. I was THRILLED by how that class went.

I’m really glad that there is somewhere people can go to get the insight and information that they got at this convention. I’m glad so many people had such a great time. I really am.

I also want to give the organization a shout-out, because I put this long rant on Twitter about how horrible my experience was, and I just got a personal email tonight, one day after my rant, from the president of the organization (the person who apparently says the most evil word “fuck”) apologizing for my experience and telling me she is already taking steps to correct a lot of these issues.

That is how these things should be handled, and I want to stand up and applaud her for that, because it was a big move, and it went a really long way toward soothing my ruffled feathers.

Will I attend again? I don’t know. I’d love to. I really would, but I’m still just really feeling like maybe I’m too… fundamentally flawed… in some way to interact with humanity face-to-face.

Book News | MASSIVE book sale

So, as you may or may not know, I am part of the SPFBO this year. One Emerald Dodge was kind enough to navigate through the headache-inducing waters of organizing a gigantic sale for all of us SPFBO5 authors who wanted to participate. Therefore, between today, August 16, and August 20, a bevy of SPFBO books are on sale for $.99 on Kindle.

Including mine.

Let me tell you (remind you) a bit about my book, so if you’d like, you can go pick it up while it’s on sale.

Buy the book (for $.99!)

The world is dying. 

The Sunset Lands are broken, torn apart by a war of ideology paid for with the lives of the peasants. Drought holds the east as famine ravages the farmlands. In the west, borders slam shut in the face of waves of refugees, dooming all of those trying to flee to slow starvation, or a future in forced labor camps. There is no salvation.

In the city of Lord’s Reach, Seraphina, a slave with unique talents, sets in motion a series of events that will change everything. In a fight for the soul of the nation, everyone is a player. But something ominous is calling people to Lord’s Reach and the very nature of magic itself is changing. Paths will converge, the battle for the Sunset Lands has shifted, and now humanity itself is at stake. 

First, you must break before you can become.

And here are some links you’ll want to check out.

First, here’s where you can buy my book.
And here’s the massive list of all the SPFBO books that are on sale right now.

Huge thanks to Emerald Dodge and co. for organizing this huge sale.