Malcolm R. Campbell's Blog, page 110

The Jane Hawk novels by Dean Koontz

Koontz is a careful and literate writer who knows how to create complex plots, maintain suspense, and decorate his scenes with weather and landscape imagery that synchronizes with the moods and plights of his characters.

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The five-book series about a rogue FBI agent concluded with The Night Window, a book I’ve been looking forward to while patiently waiting for it to come out in paperback.

Hawk, who left the FBI after her husband’s death was ruled a suicide that she believed was murder, began a long trek to clear his name. Law enforcement is after her because they believe she’s operating off a “frontier justice model” and the people who killed her husband–a huge and secret group that’s slowly taking over the country–are after her. Everyone who’s after her is also after her child whom she has to keep hiding. By the time one gets to The Forbidden Door, it’s apparent that Hawk has nine lives and/or the skills of James Bond.

According to the Booklist starred review, “The spectacular finale to Jane’s story…will hit series fans with all the impact of a carefully calibrated hammer blow.”

Yes and no.

Had there not been so many co-opted law enforcement agencies, leaving nobody trustworthy to whom Hawk could turn over her evidence of the conspiracy, the book might have ended with a satisfying black-ops style gun battle after which the authorities take over and put the conspirators in jail. Hawk would then be interviewed on The View and other programs.

However, lacking that, the book–which still includes the nastiness of the bad guys in a tangled plot which look like lose-lose for Hawk–seems less explosive and interesting than the earlier books because there are few (if any) bad guy/Hawk confrontations. Hawk’s time is spent trying to ferret out who the conspirators are and how to expose them in a believable way.

The ending works because the how to tell the world about the conspiracy problem is aptly solved. Nonetheless, I felt a little let down because the focus became more about hacking into databases and less about kicking the shit out of the bad guys. And then, too, I kind of like Hawk and now she’s ridden off into the sunset forever.

—Malcolm

In case you didn’t notice: Glimmer Train Magazine has left the station for good

When I was in college, a fair number of commercial U.S. magazines published short stories. Many of those are gone now. Those that aren’t gone, stopped publishing fiction–though I have seen rumors that Atlantic will begin including fiction again.

[image error]There are plenty of so-called “little magazines” that publish fiction. Competition is fierce. Payment is often low or in contributor’s copies unless you win one of the yearly contests where the competition is fiercer and requires an entry fee.

For thirty years, Glimmer Train Magazine (a quarterly) helped fill the gap. The Fall 2019 issue was its last as editors Linda Swanson-Davies and her sister, Susan Burmeister-Brown are moving on to (as folks say) the next phase of their lives. While the magazine had high standards and a lot of submissions (once again, meaning the competition was fierce), it included many emerging writers and paid fairly for stories that were published.

As Linda and Susan say on their website they hoped to:

Publish literary short stories that were emotionally significant. We knew that at its best, a story could add depth and breadth to real life, and those were the stories we wanted to print.
Present stories in a handsome physical publication that people would keep, giving the stories the long lives and future readings they deserved.
Keep a keen eye out for new voices, favoring pieces by emerging writers.
Pay writers well for stories we accepted for publication. (Each year we have paid nearly $50,000 to writers, almost 3/4 of that to emerging writers.)

[image error] Glimmer Train Photo

While I’m sorry to see the magazine go, I think it accomplished what it set out to do. Fortunately, the magazine has not been told, so it won’t linger around under new management that may not keep up the high standards of the publication.

Thank you, Linda and Susan, for all of your hard work and for helping keep the issues coming out with contributions from personal finances.

A labor of love, I would say.

—Malcolm

 

International Women’s Day Theme – #EachforEqual

International Women’s Day 2020 campaign theme is #EachforEqual

An equal world is an enabled world.

Individually, we’re all responsible for our own thoughts and actions – all day, every day.

We can actively choose to challenge stereotypes, fight bias, broaden perceptions, improve situations and celebrate women’s achievements.

Collectively, each one of us can help create a gender-equal world.

Let’s all be #EachforEqual.

I like the theme for the upcoming International Women’s Day on March 8.  I hope it will show men–as well as women who haven’t yet signed on to the idea of their equal worth–that we are not only fighting for equality and safety for women, but for a world that’s made better for everyone.

[image error]When Elizabeth Warren’s Presidential campaign ended, political commentators were asking, “How did the Democrats begin with such a diverse field of candidates and end up with two old white men as the frontrunners?”

I think we know the answer, but we pretend we don’t.

The status quo favors men while devaluing the majority gender: Women make up almost 51% of the U.S. population, yet they are underrepresented in the House and Senate and most industries.

This situation is 1950s mentality when we “celebrated” the so-called little woman who was good for sex, having children, cooking the meals, and cleaning up the house. Many of today’s clueless reporters–as we saw in the 2016 election with Hillary’s pantsuit coverage–were more concerned about what women wore than what women said.

Thirty years ago, I got into a heated debate with a female co-worker who was probably the smartest employee on the technical writing/testing staff about the fact she did what her husband told her to do because he was head of the household.

When I told her that “head of the household” BS was an out-of-date concept, she said her Christian religion also said the husband is head of the household. When she quoted Bible verses to prove it, I said that her examples all came from the Old Testament in the days when there was not yet a Christian religion. Nonetheless, I didn’t “win” the argument. (Last I heard, they were still happily married. I would have felt bad if I caused a divorce.)

I think of this discussion because I many (most?) men and women still believe that the man is not only in charge of the household, but the office, the Congress, and the country. They believe that 51% of our nation’s wisdom should be confined to the kitchen and laundry room.

As a white man, permit me to say that patriarchy is stupid. Look where it’s gotten us.

—Malcolm

 

 

On election nights, I want all those talking heads to shut up

All I need is a scorecard as the polls close.

Candidate A is now ahead of Candidate B while Candidate C is toast.

[image error]Instead, CNN, Fox and other the networks brought us an unending number of panels of people–most of whom I’d never heard of–telling me what it meant when Candidate A forged ahead of Candidate B.

I thought it meant that Candidate A currently had more votes. Since NCIS was pre-empted for this information, thought, “Dang, these panels that are shooting the breeze about what the night’s totals and trends mean better be good.”

Instead, they found one hundred ways to state the obvious:

“Well, Bob, what do you think Candidate X is going to do now?”
“Read the handwriting on the wall.”
“What wall is that?”
“The wall that says a woman can’t possibly beat two incredibly old white men with one foot in the grave.”
“That wall’s been around a long time.”

Was there anything new here, new enough to pre-empt Gibbs and the rest of the NCIS crew? No, there wasn’t. Who watches this stuff? I don’t. I mute the talking heads and check the voting totals from time to time.

Then I go and watch a taped episode of “Penn & Teller Fool Us” where the sleight of hand is more interesting than the candidates’ sleight of hand. And less harmful.

—Malcolm

 

 

You better not hurt that kitty

When I began writing Conjure Woman’s Cat, I didn’t know how it would end, much less that it would lead to the sequel Eulalie and Washerwoman. When I started writing the sequel, I didn’t know how it would end, much less that it would lead to a third book named Lena which–of course–I had no clue what the ending was.

[image error]I did know one thing for sure: Eulalie, the conjure woman, and Lena, her cat, weren’t going to get killed no matter what else happened.

So, each time I told people I had started a new book in the series, I began getting comments like, “You better not hurt that kitty,” “Promise me I don’t need to look at the ending first to make sure nobody (you know who I mean) is dead,” and “If anything happens to that kitty, don’t think you can fix it with a bunch of that rainbow bridge stuff and that will make everything okay.”

It was fun hearing that a lot of people had connected with the main characters and were concerned about their welfare. After all, things were always touch-and-go in these books, what with bad cops and noxious KKK thugs. One person said she really liked the Pollyanna character who appeared in Lena and was happy to see she made it to the end of the book without dying.

Then she added, I want to see a Pollyanna book and she better be alive when I get to the last page. Okay, okay, I’m writing the Pollyanna book right now and she doesn’t get killed.  (I hope you’re happy, Linda, knowing you can read the book without worrying about the main character.)

[image error]Previously, while I was writing my contemporary fantasy Sarabande, the sequel to The Sun Singer, people started saying “You better not kill off that black horse.” (I didn’t.) You see the pattern here, right? People don’t trust me, assume I’m hard-hearted and cold enough to kill off magical critters. My mama didn’t raise me that way.

I’m tempted to write a novel where all the main characters die on the first page of the book. That will prove I’m not some wimpy author who’s controlled by his readers and doesn’t have any artistic integrity. Perhaps it will begin, “Everybody is dead.” Then, the next chapter will be called SIX MONTHS EARLIER and we’ll see how it happened.

Naah, I don’t think I’ll do that. But I might. I might drink some bad whisky and go over to the dark side at any moment.

—Malcolm

 

 

The Toxic Internet

A long-time online friend of mine is leaving Facebook because she’s tired of the toxicity there, among other things. I know what she’s talking about because those there who don’t like your point of view often respond with abusive comments and nasty threats.

[image error]My parents used to tell me that if a comment wasn’t inappropriate for the family dinner table, I shouldn’t say it.

Since I still believe that, I notice the toxic comments and slanders that are commonplace on Facebook, the comments sections following news stories on some media sites, and (of course) Twitter. I keep hoping that the people who are talking trash are in a minority, that–as some people say–“the crazies are the only ones who bother to comment” on news stories, posts, and tweets.

What do you think? Are polite, normal, well-spoken people leaving Facebook like my friend, possibly staying but staying out of the crazy threads, or are people in general turning into rude approximations of themselves via online anonymity?

Even though I’ve been online since the CompuServe days, I’m still surprised at the number of people who are willing to say, “Malcolm, you’re a naive piece of shit” in response to my low key comment. What’s that about? People who don’t know me have accused me online of all sorts of things, and I wonder what kind of gall it takes to say such things.

I see the toxicity my friend sees, but I guess I’m being expedient when I say that since I’m a writer, I need to have an online presence. So I stay. I hope that most people online are good people and fight against the toxic comments or find ways to stay out of trouble. Perhaps I am naive because I think that when good people are quiet the bad people end up owning the place.

—Malcolm

 

Parents Can Put Librarians in Jail if Parents Don’t Like a Library’s Books

Jefferson City, Missouri, March 3, 2020, Star-Gazer News Service–The Missouri House announced here today that when a bill proposing Gestapo-style Parental Advisory Committees is passed and signed into law, your favorite librarian may end up in the slammer.

House Representatives Jack and Monique (not their real names) admit that while it “takes a lot of arrogance to tell other people what they can and cannot read, such people can’t help themselves.”

According to informed spokespersons, the parental committees will be composed of adults who swear on a stack of comic books that “I don’t know anything about books, but I know what I don’t like.”

[image error]Dixon Ticonderoga, president of the Broken Pencil Think Tank, told reporters that studies show that teens read banned books sooner than other books.

“The bottom line is this: Banning books ensures that the age groups you don’t want to read the book will read then in greater numbers than they would if you just shut the hell up,” he said.

Librarians–who asked not to be named in print–noted that a “Missouri State Assessment of Adult Literacy (SAAL) conducted in 2003, 35% of Missouri adults have prose literacy skills at or below the basic skill level. In addition, 26% of Missouri adults are at or below the basic skills level in document literacy and 49% are at or below the basic skill level in quantitative literacy.”

Jack and Monique admit that the SAAL assessment shows that the parental committees will be “an example of the blind leading the stupid, and that’s what democracy is all about.”

Story filed by Jock Stewart, Special Investigative Reporter

 

Time machines really don’t cost that much

In 1960, one of my favorite movies was “The Time Machine” based on H. G. Wells’ novel. Perhaps it was the slight crush I had on Yvette Mimieux (unrequited love) or perhaps it was my attunement with old legends about time travel, but the film remains a favorite even though it’s very dated by now.

[image error]Now we’re learning more and more about how astronomers’ observations are verifying Einstein’s theories of space/time. My focus on time is more mystic and speculative than science, but I have always thought that one day we would figure out how to do it without breaking Star Trek’s Temporal Prime Directive that prohibits interfering with cultures in a time frame earlier than our own.

For now, though, I’m content to use my imagination as a time machine when I write as well as when I read. My work in progress is set in 1955. Whether it’s the writing or the ongoing research of the period, I feel like I’m bouncing back and forth between 2020 and the 1950s. I feel the same way when I read whether it’s Southern Gothic, which I like a lot, or mainstream historical novels.

I believe in past lives, though I do think they’re occurring simultaneously with our current lives and “future” lives. Aside from that, books do have a powerful ability to transport us to other times and places. How easy it is to fall under the spell of a book or film set in another time and (while reading/viewing) take everything we see and hear as a reality we want to experience.

Do you feel this way when you read? Do you suddenly “see” a period in our nation’s past (or some other nation’s past) as more real than you did before you began the novel? I usually do. It’s almost like magic.

—Malcolm

 

Florida’s Carnivorous Plants

In some parts of the county, searching for autumn-leaves color is not only a regional pastime but a tourist experience. Spring wildflowers are another large attraction, though I don’t hear as much about timing and destinations as I do for fall color.

In the Florida Panhandle, we have a scenic byway (State Route 65) that runs north and south through Liberty County (where I’ve set my conjure and crime Florida Folk Magic Series) that’s a beautiful road that becomes a bit congested in the spring as the cameras come out to “capture” wildflowers. Florida’s carnivorous pitchers, when found en masse, are referred to as “pitcher plant prairies.”

[image error] White-topped Pitcher Plant – photo by chapstickaddict on Flickr

According to Missouri Botanical Garden, “Sarracenia leucophylla, commonly called white-topped pitcher plant or white trumpet, is native to mucky soils of sandy bogs and pine savannas in coastal plain areas from south western Georgia, southern Alabama and the Florida panhandle. This is a stemless herbaceous perennial that grows in full sun.”

It’s also a carnivorous plant. When I lived in Florida, I used to tell out-of-state visitors that these flowers were worse than alligators and could strike like a snake and consume a 200-pound man in a nanosecond. They normally eat insects, considering people off limits most of the time. Goodness knows how many of my exaggerations got ferried back to the rest of the country!

[image error] Blazing Star – Route 65 Tour Guide photo.

You can see pitchers during April and May, and to a lesser extent in the fall. Don’t pick any of them: you might end up in jail. In addition to pitchers, you’ll find a spectacular display of color from the False foxglove, Rayless goldenrod, Hairy chaffhead, Bristleleaf chaffhead, Flattop goldenrod, Narrowleaf Sunflower, Blazing star, and White rosegentian.

If you live in Florida or are traveling to West Florida during the blooming season, you’ll find this tour guide to be a handy reference.

—Malcolm

 

 

 

 

 

 

Riding the Whirlwind of Story

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Poet and teacher Natalie Diaz says that stories are energy and I believe her.

While I’m hard-pressed to find anything that is not energy, energy takes many forms, manifesting at varying rates of vibration. You must be receptive to it, though, as a writer or a reader or as some random person minding his/her business who suddenly gets swept away by the chance meeting with a tsunami of story.

When I’m thinking about writing a story, I delay and delay and delay because I know that once I commit to that story, the whirlwind begins, has no mercy, is ubiquitous, steals sleep and sanity and every unguarded thought. But all that is one of the joys of writing, it’s like surfing, skiing, skydiving and the best sex you’ve every had.

Those of you who’ve been reading this blog for a while know that when story energy appears, I ride it with little (if any) knowledge about where the whirlwind is going. Today, while I was more or less innocently minding my own business, a new character appeared in my novel in progress. “Who are you and where the hell did you come from?”

“I’m Julia Hughes Adams from uptown Manhattan and apparently got pulled away from the comforts of Harlem into the Florida Panhandle through an unkind wormhole in space.”

“I feel your pain,” I said.

“I doubt it, white boy,” she said.

Long ago, I stopped trying to answer the question of how the hell do these things happen? There’s no point in asking though I suspect the answer has to do with quantum entanglement.

I’ve learned the hard way that writers have to open themselves up to these story whirlwinds if they want to write stuff that’s any good, that resonates with people, that has the guts to injure readers where they need to be injured and restored anew.

The whole shebang is similar to getting really stoned and/or really drunk and letting whatever happens happen. Sure, you might end up in jail; if you do, that adds depth to your story. Whatever happens, you’ll probably embarrass yourself, but–to put it bluntly–you need to stop giving a rat’s ass about such things even though it might tick off your parents or spouse.

Let the story be what it wants to be. Or else.

—Malcolm