J.B. Garner's Blog, page 48

Weekend Update: It Finally Happened

If you’ve read my Starving Review guidelines, you may have noticed that there isn’t a huge chance for any book to get a 1-star rating, as that requires that me, a voracious eater of all things literary, becomes incapable of finish your book.�� If you’ve been a reader of this blog for a time or simply search the categories, you’ll know this has yet to happen and I’ve had to choke down some rough meals so far to get to this point.

However, the improbable has finally happened.�� Was it simply reading fatigue, too many questionable meals in a row?�� No, I don’t think so, especially after having read two wonderful (if depressing) books in a row.�� Was it some other outside circumstance?�� Again, I doubt it as I am, in all other realms of my life, exceedingly happy.

All I will say is that there will be a fresh Starving Review tomorrow and hopefully we’ll discover why this one was the book I couldn’t finish together.

Until the morrow, good luck and good writing!

Book News: Free or Not to Free? That is the question!

For those of you who have hung around here a while, you probably know that I have made the first book of each of my two book series free, at least with every outlet I can do so.�� Now, the obvious intent of this was to stick my foot in the door, to provide a free sample to entice readers and lure them in to read the rest of each series.�� It certainly does seem to have spread interest a fair bit and I’m seeing a slow trickle from the free books to the pay books.

Also, you probably know I am very close to wrapping these initial trilogies (a term I am loathe to use because I fully intend to revisit both of these fictional worlds down the road).�� What I wonder is if I should continue to keep those first books free?�� At least after perhaps a month or so of the series completion.

Putting a window on the free books might create a rush of activity, a sense of urgency to get a toe in the door, pushed on by the knowledge that, YES, this series IS complete.�� At the same time, would the good will generated by that openly free book be crushed by suddenly cutting off the tap?�� I admit that I don’t have the marketing skills to really gauge the risk factor here.

So, any of you writers, editors, publishers, literary folk, do you have any insights on this?�� Is it better to keep that gateway open for impulse readers to grab a free book and get hooked?�� Or decide that it’s time to cut off the free lunch line?

Plot and Motivation: How To Lose When Winning! a.k.a. Building Tension for Heroes

Wow.�� Between the constant demands of being a Starving Author AND a Starving Reviewer, I’ve had so little time to just … write an article.�� Well, I throw off the shackles of responsibility and, despite the fact I really should read my next book/write a review/write a chapter/edit a chapter/promote a book/do my laundry (pick your favorite three!), I am going to instead write a new chapter in Plot and Motivation!

In the past, we’ve talked about such tropes as the Invincible Hero and the Ace, archetypes that are, usually, invincible in traditional physical conflict.�� Now, this is all fine, there are usually other approaches to add dramatic tension outside of the realm of action and direct combat and such.�� However, what if you’re writing in the action genre OR a genre that relies on action/competition/conflict as the core plot element?�� Well, again, easy answer, don’t use such overpowering archetypes or find a way to deconstruct the tropes.

AH-HA!�� We’re not done yet!

What if you don’t have a choice about the character for some reason?�� Or what if the constraints of the plot demand victory for the heroes?�� For example, in a fantasy world, many conflicts could very well be life or death.�� Defeat isn’t an option.�� Or in a sports novel if there is a tournament the protagonists must win for the plot but there isn’t a losers bracket by the rules of the game?�� There are situations where you can’t let the protagonists lose but you’re afraid of steering too far off the realm of believability into breaking your reader’s suspension of disbelief.

Well, the first and simplest solution is to simply make every conflict a challenge.�� Heroes that don’t lose don’t have to be Invincible.�� If you can capture the struggle, the risk, the difficulty of every encounter, you can still harness the dramatic tension needed to entice the reader but still not throw your plot off-line with strange explanations as to why things differ This One Time.�� If you set rules or a tone for your world, it is important to keep with it.�� Easier to make things very hard than to provide conspicuously out-of-place reasons.

A second closely related solution is to ensure every victory has a cost.�� With some scenarios, this is simple.�� Anything involving direct physical struggle or potentially dangerous situations is easy: injuries and wounds don’t magically disappear and even the best fighter is not untouchable.�� In any physical activity, even non-contact sports, injuries can happen and fatigue can be a crucial factor.�� Having to perform at one’s peak day after day in a hard physical activity is impossible, eventually wear and tear sets in.�� Frankly, any extended effort, mental, emotional, physical, or spiritual, is taxing and should be presented as so.�� In team situations, with multiple protagonists, the cost may be in lost teammates or defeated allies.�� Even material costs are possible with tools, money, equipment, and ammunition as all things that can go away to make each step a bit more challenging.

A third idea, last on my short list, is to break the rules.�� Yes, I know I said that it is important to keep world rules in place but, even in our own hard-set reality, exceptions and unforeseen events happen and rules we consider iron-clad by Mother Nature sometimes seem to be meaningless.�� If you DO feel the need to take this route, it is important to point out that fact, that what just happened defied all expectations/laws of nature/rules of magic/etc., and then try to ensure it doesn’t happen again!�� Rare once-in-a-lifetime events happen.�� It becomes trite when that once-in-a-lifetime event happens twice.

While this kind of situation might seem rare, in some genres it comes up more than others.�� Having to struggle with it myself in my latest writings, I had to think long and hard about it so I felt it fitting to share with others out there who may wind up dealing with the same issues in their own works.

If you have any comments or input, feel free to let me know!�� Until next time, good luck and good writing!

General News: Felipe de Barros’ new site!

I almost filed this under Book News for reasons that will become clear in the near future (MYSTERY!�� SUSPENSE!�� DRAMA!) but my good friend and the man responsible for all my wonderful book cover art, Felipe de Barros has started up a Facebook page that you can access from THIS LINK for showcasing both his latest art and news of his ongoing independent work.�� If you’re a Facebook sort of person, you should definitely check it out.

Even if you aren’t, however, you might want to glance at it every once in a while over the coming days.�� Felipe is going to be making a big announcement as to an ongoing comic book project in the coming week or so and it’s a project that I am deeply involved in.�� If you’re a fan of his art or my writing, you might want to watch for it!

Good luck and good writing!

Starving Review: I Truly Lament: Working Through the Holocaust by Mathias B. Freese

I Truly Lament: Walking Through the Holocaust by Mathias B. Freese (Amazon, Goodreads)

Not all literary meals are laid out on the table purely for the stuffing of the reader’s face with new entertainment.�� Some have a purpose behind their creation and other recipes are crafted to bring the reader an important message or a deep feeling as he sits chewing the fat.�� I’ve reviewed at least one book like this before so it’s not a stranger to this Starving Reviewer and I have another such literary meal at my table today.�� The message and the event it seeks to fill our taste buds with is older but even stronger than the previous book.�� I Truly Lament deals with one of the great and terrible tragedies of the 20th Century: the Holocaust.�� Does it perform its mission admirably?�� Let’s find out.

But first!�� The Starving Review creed!

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre.
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible.

This Starving Review is going to be short, folks, and not as humorous as most of mine.�� It simply comes down to the fact that there are few subjects more serious than attempted genocides of a people.�� The Holocaust is horrific and there’s little desire on my part to make light of it, even if it would only be indirectly.�� Even worse is the prospect that it was not the first and far from the last ethnic cleansing to happen in our world.�� That’s the ultimate tragedy of it all.�� So before I get overly emotional or start shaking my fist angrily at the heavens and shout ‘WHY?!’ dramatically (okay, so there will be a LITTLE humor), let’s get this done!

Lament is an anthology-style novel, consisting of a series of short stories that runs through a wide swath of viewpoints, concepts, and premises all related to the Holocaust.�� Some even venture into the sci-fi and fantasy premises, such as time-travel, and that adds some rather intriguing flavors to those stories.�� There are a large number of stories in the book so I will not try to itemize a list of each story and weight each on its own pros and cons.

What I will say is that Mr. Freese is a talented and insightful chronicler here and is good at bringing each unique flavor from each story into its own life.�� That, over so many different tales, he manages such a strong consistency in his writing speaks volumes for the book’s overall quality.

As far as the subject matter itself, Lament handles it with some distinctly Jewish insights as well as a good attention to historical detail.�� Those points add extra heft to the stories, making them each seem a bit more vivid and life-like.�� No punches are pulled, either emotional or descriptive, and I, as a reader, appreciate that.�� Something as terrible as this deserves no whitewashing or sugar coating.

If there is any real flaws in the collection, it is simply that, as all anthology works, even the best author is not one-hundred percent consistent in quality.�� A few of the tales simply don’t resonate as strongly as others or seem a bit forced in concept.�� It’s simply the nature of the beast and one that doesn’t detract significantly from the overall quality of Lament, especially as most of the stories are quite brief.�� It’s easy work to chew past the occasional bits of blander flavor to get to the better bits.

So, end of the meal, how was Lament?�� There is both bitterness and sweetness, courage and cowardice, and by the last bite, this collection of tales gets its messages about the Holocaust across.�� That, above all things, is the most important metric to measure such a book by.�� If you want to gain a deeper insight to the Jewish perspective on the Holocaust, are a general student of World War II, or simply want to broaden your mind about the world, I can highly recommend this read.�� Just remember, this is a book about horrific things.�� The imagery can be disturbing and the language coarse so if that offends you, well, there’s nothing to be done for it.

FINAL VERDICT: ***** (Bitterness mixed with sweetness, courage mixed with cowardice.)

Trope of the Week: Aliens are Blue-Skinned Humans

jbgarner58:

Paige’s Trope of the Week … always a winner!

Originally posted on break the system:

There are two types of aliens in science-fiction: the monstrous of mind and body who only wish to destroy, and the incredibly human who are sentient and sly. Rarely do we find a race that is somewhere between. Sentience and intelligence is almost a guarantee of a human-like body, and the lady aliens? They will definitely have boobs.

Why this can be bad: There are several things at work here when we���re crafting an alien species. We have a tendency to think ourselves the top of the food chain and therefore the most intelligent species. Anything on par with or superior to us must therefore look similar to ourselves. As species of organisms on earth grow more advanced in neurology, they come to have a very specific pattern: major sense organs all located around the brain and in the head, two arms, two legs, tendency for bipedalism, et cetera���

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9 Writing Tips When You Get Stuck In The Middle Of Your Story

jbgarner58:

Good stuff here! If you like it, let them know more unjamming tips!

Originally posted on Couple's Chronicle:

You started it right.

At start it feels like heaven and thought that no one can stop you now.

Then in the middle of your story you suddenly get stuck.

You feel that the mud is holding you from going. You wish somebody sees you and pull you up from the thick mud that been sticking to your feet. Or you are hoping�� for a flush of water that will drift you out from your nightmare.

You are stuck in the middle of your story!

What should you do?

A month ago I was writing about my ���Writing Frustrations��� and a lot of writers have given their ideas on how to deal with it. I used some of their ideas and it really works. So I decided to create a tips base on the�� responses of my previous post. It helped me and I believe it will���

View original 558 more words

Sneak Peek: The Twelfth Labor Chapter 3

Because all proper sneak peeks come in threes, I present the current manuscript version of the third chapter of the third book in the Three Seconds to Legend book series.�� I expect to have The Twelfth Labor ready for publication by the end of February.�� Enjoy and keep your eyes peeled for a few more little tidbits and reveals to come in the next couple of weeks!

Chapter 3 The Steps of the Colosseum

“I hated you for many years, Dana Harding.”

Pai Shi was the first to speak and, despite the lion mask on her face, her face twisted as her lips pulled back sharply. Dana lowered her eyes from the fierce gaze, but she certainly couldn’t deny she had given the Lioness more than a fair share of reasons for that attitude. None of the others spoke as if these were confessionals, more than just the frank talk of friends.

“Ah suppose yew’ve got a fair right to that, Pai.” No better way to tackle it then head on, Dana thought.

“You had the backing of the Von Richters and with that you destroyed career after career. At every turn, no matter how honorably I fought, you were allowed to skate by with whatever dirty tricks came to mind and they looked the other way. You kept me from ever holding championship gold and I swore, one day, we would have a reckoning.”

The masked woman’s hands clenched into fists and she paused, taking several deep breaths. As they came and went, the snarl left her lips and her voice calmed. Dana thought the wise thing was to keep her big trap shut.

“The problem is that you are not the woman you were. You may bear the same name and the same face but there has been an elemental change in you. I know this.” Pai tapped her forehead. “Even so, part of me felt cheated, deprived of my righteous revenge. How could that part not sing when Angela Von Richter laid out this match?

“That is why I did what I did.”

“Ain’t no reason Ah see ta be ashamed of that,” Dana admitted. The Texan caught Pai Shi’s gaze and locked with it. “But we ain’t gonna do ourselves any good if -“

“No,” Pai interrupted. “You need say nothing more. We have a greater foe than our personal squabbles. Still, Dana, I must ask not for your forgiveness or understanding but for a favor. These feelings will not be purged with simple chatter.”

Dana felt Leilana’s worried gaze on her. The Texan only smiled and stretched her good arm across the table with an open hand.

“Ah know what yew want.” She smiled. “After this is over, Ah promise, we’ll settle things.”

Pai Shi regarded that hand as if it were a snake about to bite and gave a sidelong look at Lei. The Hawaiian only nodded slowly. Maybe she was starting to get up to speed on dealing with people after all.

“Agreed.” The two former enemies shook hands and that was that. Pai Shi settled back in her chair looking almost pleased with herself.

One down. Two to go.

Leilana wasn’t sure exactly what had just been agreed to but even she wasn’t so blind that she didn’t see it was a necessary thing between Dana and Pai. At least whatever it was, it was in the future. She looked at the Giovanni family next.

“Well, Mama -” Bambi began hesitantly.

“You go on, sweetling.” Maria’s huge face cracked into a small smile. “You can say it better than I can.” That one short phrase turned the surprisingly downcast Bambi around and she continued her own statement with a smile.

“Mama and I, well, we’re coming to terms.” Bambi nodded. “Yes, that’s the best way to put it. I need to stand on my own more and Mama, well …”

“Bah, don’t beat about the bushes.” Maria folded her arms and made a mock scowl. “Speak plainly. I need to let you stand on your own as much as you must do so yourself.” She gestured with a sweeping arm. “How can a mighty tree grow if it has no space to lay its roots?”

“I don’t think it will be easy for either one of us, but I think we will make it happen.” Bambi nodded with the certainty of youth. “We’re family, after all!”

Leilana smiled and nodded in return. She had learned so much about family just a scant few months ago herself. If only her father and mother could see how far she had come so soon.

“This is not quite over yet, bambina,” the Boar added. She took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose like a snort. Right beside Leilana, Dana pulled her Stetson down over her eyes, no doubt hoping there wasn’t another major problem about to brew.

Maria opened her mouth, stopped, seemed to consider it again, stopped, then Bambi nudged her with an elbow. That finally seemed to spur the large black woman onward.

“You beat me, Leilana, at my own game.” Though the elder Giovanni had admitted as much two weeks ago, it still seemed hard for her to say. “Power, toughness, courage, will, right in the steel cage, you proved the better woman. Si, this has all been said before and I thought I had quelled my jealousy but it is not so easy.”

“Mama has never taken this sort of thing well,” Bambi said. A sharp look from her mother only earned a shrug. “It’s true, you can’t deny it.”

“Maria, I may have won a match against you but that is far from taking your place or being your better.” Leilana spoke slowly, purposefully. She only hoped she came across as thoughtful as she was trying to be. “You have decades of knowledge and experience I do not.” Maria was already opening her mouth and it took Leilana’s raised hands to keep her from interrupting.

“Most importantly, you are the heart of a great wrestling family. How many maneuvers, how many techniques, what kind of secrets do you know that I never will? You will pass them down to Bambi and her children and that chain will go on and on. I cannot be that.

“That is what you are that is so important, Maria. The head of a family, a family that needs you and could never replace you.”

The Boar of Italy sat there, chewing over those words. After a long moment, she silently stood up and began to walk around the table towards Leilana. Bambi followed her mother’s movements with wide eyes. For her part, Pai only acknowledged it with quirked eyebrows.

Leilana looked up at the solid slab of woman looking down at her. Confusion played through her thoughts and, for a moment, she wondered if she wasn’t about to be hit from some unknown offense.

“Get up please.”

“Now wait a moment -” Dana’s complaint was cut short by Leilana raising a hand. She herself said nothing and just complied with the request. This was Vegas after all, best to take a chance and roll the dice.

Maria Giovanni looked down those full eight inches at the Hawaiian girl and suddenly broke into a huge smile. She swept Leilana up into an engulfing hug before kissing both of her cheeks.

“Si, Leilana Ito!” she cried in delight. “That is the granddaughter of the great Nohokai talking. How could I be so blind?” Maria kissed the rather stunned woman on the forehead. “Wise beyond your years, much like my own.”

“Brava!” Bambi shouted with a certain celebratory gusto. As the Boar let Leilana go free from the loving but suffocating embrace, Dana glanced over at Pai and smirked.

“Ah think Ah liked our settlin’ things better.”

“My sincere apologies for your injury, Ms. Harding, and your loss this past Saturday,” Angela Von Richter said with soothing tones. A silver-tongued snake, that’s what came to Dana’s mind as she gave the queen of the GWA a hard stare. As much as she would love to cut the crap and drive a good right hand into the woman’s face, Dana was here on business.

“Ah’m sure yew’re just all broken up about it, ma’am, but don’t yew worry none,” Dana smiled, matching the viper’s smile with a bit of her own rattlesnake. “Ah’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time and, as fer losing, well, mah client won so Ah suppose that sits jes fine with me.”

Two things had struck Dana the moment she had been shown into Angela’s office. First, it was supremely ordered, like some kind of sterile museum. Even the paperwork on her desk was sorted and in almost perfect stacks.

The other thing was the flowers. Beautiful and aromatic, arrangements dominated most of the free surfaces. From the snips Dana’s sharp eyes spied tucked neatly to one side of the desk, she guessed Angela did all the work herself. Too bad all that beauty, just like Angela’s own, was wasted on someone who was so damn ugly on the inside.

“Speaking of your client, I do hope she will be in competitive shape before Saturday.” The rancor in the German’s voice was almost palatable when she made mention of Leilana. “There is quite a bit on the line and I would hardly want it to be a poor performance. The Colosseum is already sold out just from the anticipation.”

“Let’s cut the shit, Angela.”

“Language, Ms. Harding, we’re all civilized here, are we not?”

“Ah admire the set-up, Ah sure do. Worthy of some of mah best shenanigans back in the day. Yew throw wave after wave of crap an’, jes when things look good, yew pull the masterstroke. Beat down the girl with her own friends.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” The smile on that angelic face turned from beatific to demonic. “You have no chance of influencing me to alter the time or the date. These things are set in stone. Now, are you going to report to Mr. Kelso and get that contract signed or should we assume Ms. Ito is forfeiting the match on account of injury?”

“Mah girl’ll be there with bells on, don’t yew worry about that.” Dana tried to keep her tones even, not to betray too much emotion, but she couldn’t help but show a little protectiveness. “There’s jes one thing I want out of yew before Ah sign anything.”

“Very well, what sort of request would you like to make?” Angela spread her fine-fingered hands out magnanimously, though the Texan was more curious as to why such a delicate thing had the start of calluses on her fingers. “The management is always open to suggestions from its fine talent.”

“Yew keep the ringside clear. Leave it between those two to settle this once an’ fer all.”

“Interesting. Obviously, when say that, you know that means you as well. No one. No managers, no onlookers, no cheering teammates. For both sides.”

Dana took a deep breath. She knew that Leilana on an even field could take Sunny, no matter what kind of demon she had been turned into. Sure, there was no telling if the Von Richters would stick by a contractual stipulation, but it was at least some kind of insurance from further foul play. As much as she wanted to be there to see Lei make that big win, this was for the best.

“Ah do.”

“Fine. I’ll let Jeff know and it will be added to the contract.” Angela turned away from Dana and picked up a piece of paperwork. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have a considerable amount of work to do.”

“What I want to know is how this could have happened?” Kentaro Ito growled, leaning hard on his cane. “After all we’ve been through, I would have thought you both would have decided to trust me.”

It had taken a lot of work and attention to renovate the Pane’e Wrestling School from the rundown state Nohokai had left it in. Yes, that had been Ken’s primary focus for these past months but, still, there was no reason that seemed sound as to why neither Marcy or Kahanu, his own wife, would tell him that his daughter had once more been trapped in the web of the Von Richters.

“Ken, please, you have to understand,” Kahanu soothed as they stood around Marcy’s hospital bed, “that the last thing I wanted was for you to give up hope and to fall into that belief in some family curse again. You were happy for the first time in years.” She frowned uncertainly. “I thought, well, what else could we do that Marcy and Dana couldn’t?”

“If you wanna blame anyone, Ken, you’d best be blaming me,” Marcy said with a shrug. “I figured it would be a cinch fer Dana to find her and drag her home. ‘Course, things never seem to turn out as well as we’d hope, aye?”

“I hate to say it, Marcy, but I’ve got to side with Mr. Ito on this one,” Rick Donner said. He had been the one to pick them up from the airport and he seemed now to be Marcy’s top assistant. “Not that Dana isn’t one hell of a tough lady, but it pays never to underestimate the Von Richters. Besides, we’re talking about the guy’s daughter. I’ve got some personal experience in what it’s like to hear about something like this after the fact.”

Though Ken hadn’t quite made up his mind about what to think of Rick, he did give the impression of a dedicated father. He certainly wondered now why exactly he and Dana were no longer together. He pushed it aside, something to worry about another day. Thankfully his own son, Akoni, was occupied, playing with the youngest of the Harding boys.

“That is what galls me most of all. I appreciate trying to protect me, but I have changed. Things are different now. I could have handled it and, surprisingly, I may have even be of some help.” Ken put his free hand on his hip. “So, what is going on now? What is the situation?”

“I’m sorry, dear.” Kahanu put a gentle hand on her husband’s shoulder, which he acknowledged with a brief nod. “Mr. Donner told you everything I knew during the ride over here.” She looked over at Marcy. “I don’t know what has else may now be happening. Why did you want us to come to the mainland?”

“Simple enough to tell ye. Your daughter, the spitfire she is, kicked the arse of everything thrown in her way and now the Girl Hercules herself is set for a championship match in Las Vegas the end o’ this week.” Marcy tapped her forehead. “I had a notion that, all things aside, you’d want to be there to cheer her on.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Kahanu asked. “Why wouldn’t those horrible women use that as a chance to snatch us as leverage, just like what they tried with Ricky and Tyler?”

“That incident still surprises me,” Kentaro said. “The Von Richters may be cruel, but that goes beyond everything Nohokai ever said about their love of personal honor.”

“Don’t worry none about that. It won’t happen again. You see, that was all Angela and let’s simply say the other side of the family didn’t much approve. It looks like Elise had to school her sister on the right way to do this kind o’ feudin’.

“Now, I’m not sayin’ this is safe, far from it, but if we show that we’ve got the stones to march into their own little kingdom, maybe it’ll rattle their cages, aye?” The aging Irishwoman had started to gesture fiercely as she spoke and stopped as much from rattling her shattered wrist as anything else, Ken surmised.

“It comes down to this, folks,” Rick added, “We figure that there really isn’t anything to stop the Von Richters from doing this same song and dance again and again ’till the cows come home. Marcy wants to start to push back and I have to agree. This won’t stop until we make it stop and we don’t do that by playing the next game they come up with.”

Kahanu looked confused, but thoughtful. Ken, though, believed he already knew what was being suggested. Taking his wife’s hand into his own, he gave Marcy and Rick a pensive stare.

“You mean to expand, to unify, to fight fire with fire?”

“Aye, Ken. I want ta take back yer father-in-law’s dream. I want ta make up ta his spirit fer the failure I was back then, when I walked away instead of stayin’ at his side.” Marcy’s eyes were distant, nostalgic. “I want ta take back the Global Wrestling Alliance an’ showin’ our backbone is the first step to that end.”

Kentaro and Kahanu looked in each others’ eyes. There was no need for words. They already knew they would each move heaven and earth for their children and they both had loved Nohokai. This was the right thing to do.

“When do we leave?” Kahanu said plainly.

“Well, that’s a relief.” Rick wiped his brow with a smirk. “Now I don’t have to try to get a ticket refund.”

Leilana pressed the cold compress to her cheek, trying to ignore the sharp pain. Despite having such a huge match looming over her head, Dana insisted that the Hawaiian take a couple of days to just recuperate and, well, as much as Leilana hated to admit it, Dana was right. She sat back in the chair by the side of the practice ring, watching the rest of her friends work out the kinks and pains in an effort to get some training in.

Sunday hadn’t been easy but it was encouraging that everyone had come to terms with their faults. Amends were never easy things to make so maybe Leilana could lead people. Maybe she did understand them after all. Now, though, it all came down to her. No matter how solid this team had become, their collective hopes and dreams might very well rest on one match on one evening, squarely on Leilana’s broad shoulders.

As they were preparing in the ring, Pai and Bambi were talking, exchanging ideas for a new hold, when the Lioness held up a hand for silence.

“This is important though, I -” Bambi tried to continue.

“No, it’s not that, Bambi Giovanni, it’s her.” Pai pointed out of the ring, somewhere behind Leilana herself. Unable to deny her curiosity, Leilana turned in her chair, only to lock gazes with Elise Von Richter herself, dressed in a smartly tailored black suit that matched the hard lines and angles of her features perfectly.

“Leilana Ito, please come with me.” Her voice was as hard and cold as the first time they had met. Leilana stiffly pushed up to her feet, but Maria shouted from inside the ring.

“If she goes, we all do.” The Boar pointed a finger at Elise. “We can’t trust a witch like you.”

“Si, Mama’s right.” Bambi started to climb out of the ring. “All of us together or none at all.”

“Are you perhaps afraid, Elise Von Richter? That you will not have the courage to say what you must collectively?” Pai Shi limped up to the second turnbuckle and glared down onto the scene at ringside.

“It would be wise not to try my patience, ladies,” Elise sneered. “This matter doesn’t concern you. It’s a private affair. Family business.” Elise gave a glance at Leilana. “Tell them.”

Though she wasn’t sure what Elise was going on about, there was something in those ice-blue eyes that resonated with Leilana. She turned her head back to the others and smiled at their show of loyalty.

“It is okay, everyone. This is … different.” She looked back at Elise. “I am sure it will be just fine. Go back to practice.” Elise gave the Hawaiian a brief nod.

“Are you sure?” Bambi called out as Leilana already began to walk towards Elise.

“I am quite certain.”

To Leilana’s surprise, they didn’t go far. Instead of going to one of the GWA offices, Elise led Leilana to a small private lounge looking out into the city. With a gesture, she offered a seat to Leilana while she walked to the large bay windows.

“What family business are you talking about, Elise?” Leilana tried to sound tough but it certainly didn’t sound right coming out, no matter how much anger she held towards the Von Richters.

“The quiet voice suits you better, at least out here.” Elise began to carefully stretch and crack each joint of each finger. “The business is simple. I would, after all, be remiss in my duties if I didn’t inform you that the rest of your family will be in attendance this Saturday.”

Leilana was on her feet, fists clenched and anger surging, before she even realized it. Ready to charge, the Girl Hercules was halted by Elise’s cool expression and raised open palm.

“Please, hold the righteous indignation. This isn’t my doing or my sister’s doing. They are coming entirely voluntarily.” She glared at the Hawaiian. “You should know with all that happened in Oklahoma with the Harding brood that I don’t deal in those games.”

“How do they even know about this then if not from you or Angela?” Leilana held her ground, keeping her anger stoked but in check. The problem, of course, was that Elise was a skillful liar. Not like her sister but for someone so socially inept as Leilana was, Elise was clever enough to get most anything past her.

“I don’t know though it certainly didn’t come from here, be it us or any of your ‘friends’.” She shrugged. “Nor is it really any of my concern. As per your contract, they will have fine ringside seats set aside for them. Of course, also in accordance to your contract, you will not get to see them before or after the match either.”

“What if I win?”

Leilana and Elise stared hard at each other, eyes locked and unblinking. Leilana only searched for the truth in whatever dared come out of Elise’s mouth. Elise seemed to be looking right through into Leilana’s heart, as if trying to weigh what degree of courage and determination was there.

“We will discuss your victory after it happens, Ito.” She turned away, folding her arms under her chest. “Until then, I would suggest you do your best to mend and prepare. I can assure you that Ms. Clover has been counting the hours until this contest.”

Leilana let out a harsh sigh and turned towards the door. Elise was right in that but, before she opened the door, right at its threshold, Leilana stopped.

“You make it sound like you never had any doubt that this is how it would end up.”

“That would be because I never did.” There was some shift in Elise’s voice. This was truth. This was coming from the German warrior’s heart.

“You forget that we have matched skill in the ring already. Despite my partner’s failures leading to our defeat, I would be an idiot not to come to recognize your prodigious strengths.” The sneer in her voice was evident as she concluded, “No, none of the common rabble in this league could stop you. That is meant for others of a higher station.”

Leilana nodded slowly and opened the door.

“Elise,” she said as she left, “I swear that nothing is going to stop me.” With surprising vigor, Leilana added one last thing.

“Not even you.”

Starving Review: Cupertino by Matt Szymanowski

Cupertino by Matt Szymanowski (Amazon, Smashwords, Goodreads)

There are a myriad of flavors out there in the literary kitchen and just as many textures, mixes, and creative twists.�� From time to time, you can come across something that is a strong, expertly crafted flavor that you know has been precisely blended and masterfully cooked but twists in your tongue all the same.�� You sit there, knowing that while the dish on your plate is not in synch with your own tastes, that it is a great literary recipe all the same.�� That level of transcendence beyond the reader’s palate is the mark of something special.�� So have I given away the entire review in the first paragraph?

Read on, literary foodie, and find out! But before you do, let me recount the Starving Review creed:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre.
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible.

Yes, maybe I did.�� However, I could start no discussion of the culinary qualities of Cupertino Story without doing so.�� The basic fact is that Mr. Szymanowski’s stark look at a disassociated generation playing chicken with decadence is a piece of excellent literary cooking yet all the same disturbed me as a reader on a deep level.�� That, I believe, was the point.

I wasn’t disturbed in some sort of moral outrage.�� Instead, I was drawn in by the intense realistic depiction of the main character and his world, one that wasn’t unfamiliar to me, and, as that world began to unravel, that deep connection and characterization would often make me pause, having to set the book aside for some time to absorb and process that last twist.�� In other words, this book is powerful if shocking, certainly pushing the envelope of the average reader’s comfort zones.

That is a good thing.�� It is important for our notions, our ideas, and our self-image to be pushed out of the norm.�� We need to try new foods, experience new flavors, travel the literary world (and the real one) to truly understand who we are and where we��are.�� Aiding in that is one of the greatest strengths of this short yet weighty tale.

To touch on the core mechanics of Mr. Szymanowski’s recipe, the author touches almost all of the right steps in his wordcraft.�� Characterization, as I mentioned, is intense for the main character and suitably dream-like for most of the minor characters, fitting the tone of the piece immensely.�� Speaking of tone, the mood, the setting, and the wordplay itself all create this bleak and at times twisted scene.�� Foreshadowing is done neatly and subtly, while still leaving seeds of doubt in the reader’s mind as to just what is going on.�� If I were to have any qualms at all with the recipe, it is that the pacing is a little slow after the initial hook.�� Not impossibly slow but slow enough that I did notice the change of pace.�� In the end though, this is, at most, a minor quibble that detracts almost nothing from the book as a whole.

There really is little else I can say without intense spoilers so let me wrap this up as best I can.�� Cupertino Story is a bleak but startling realistic tale of disaffected youth, the onset of decadence, and the unraveling of one young man’s life in the middle of it.�� It’s powerful, disturbing and shocking at turns, but well worth the read.�� However, anyone that is put off by depictions of graphic violence, the effects of drug abuse, or sexual content should turn this dish down.�� Everyone else, give this a go.�� It may not be an easy read but its worth the work to swallow it down.

UPDATE!�� Nothing changed here save for relinking to the newest release on the book and updated cover art.

FINAL VERDICT: ***** (A bitter meal to swallow but the expert blends and stark realism make it worth the effort!)

Starving Review: Cupertino Story by Matt Szymanowski

Cupertino Story by Matt Szymanowski (Amazon, Smashwords, Goodreads)

There are a myriad of flavors out there in the literary kitchen and just as many textures, mixes, and creative twists.�� From time to time, you can come across something that is a strong, expertly crafted flavor that you know has been precisely blended and masterfully cooked but twists in your tongue all the same.�� You sit there, knowing that while the dish on your plate is not in synch with your own tastes, that it is a great literary recipe all the same.�� That level of transcendence beyond the reader’s palate is the mark of something special.�� So have I given away the entire review in the first paragraph?�� Read on, literary foodie, and find out!

But before you do, let me recount the Starving Review creed:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre.
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible.

Yes, maybe I did.�� However, I could start no discussion of the culinary qualities of Cupertino Story without doing so.�� The basic fact is that Mr. Szymanowski’s stark look at a disassociated generation playing chicken with decadence is a piece of excellent literary cooking yet all the same disturbed me as a reader on a deep level.�� That, I believe, was the point.

I wasn’t disturbed in some sort of moral outrage.�� Instead, I was drawn in by the intense realistic depiction of the main character and his world, one that wasn’t unfamiliar to me, and, as that world began to unravel, that deep connection and characterization would often make me pause, having to set the book aside for some time to absorb and process that last twist.�� In other words, this book is powerful if shocking, certainly pushing the envelope of the average reader’s comfort zones.

That is a good thing.�� It is important for our notions, our ideas, and our self-image to be pushed out of the norm.�� We need to try new foods, experience new flavors, travel the literary world (and the real one) to truly understand who we are and where we��are.�� Aiding in that is one of the greatest strengths of this short yet weighty tale.

To touch on the core mechanics of Mr. Szymanowski’s recipe, the author touches almost all of the right steps in his wordcraft.�� Characterization, as I mentioned, is intense for the main character and suitably dream-like for most of the minor characters, fitting the tone of the piece immensely.�� Speaking of tone, the mood, the setting, and the wordplay itself all create this bleak and at times twisted scene.�� Foreshadowing is done neatly and subtly, while still leaving seeds of doubt in the reader’s mind as to just what is going on.�� If I were to have any qualms at all with the recipe, it is that the pacing is a little slow after the initial hook.�� Not impossibly slow but slow enough that I did notice the change of pace.�� In the end though, this is, at most, a minor quibble that detracts almost nothing from the book as a whole.

There really is little else I can say without intense spoilers so let me wrap this up as best I can.�� Cupertino Story is a bleak but startling realistic tale of disaffected youth, the onset of decadence, and the unraveling of one young man’s life in the middle of it.�� It’s powerful, disturbing and shocking at turns, but well worth the read.�� However, anyone that is put off by depictions of graphic violence, the effects of drug abuse, or sexual content should turn this dish down.�� Everyone else, give this a go.�� It may not be an easy read but its worth the work to swallow it down.

FINAL VERDICT: ***** (A bitter meal to swallow but the expert blends and stark realism make it worth the effort!)