The Paris Review - A Literary Wonderland
From one of the most classic literary journals of all time, famous for its author interviews (among other things), comes the PR feed. Grab your coffee and conjure your most literary mindset cause you're going to need it. Academics and shut-ins will wet their pants over this. Ya gotta love it!
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All photographs courtesy of Chip Livingston. In 1994, the internationally acclaimed fiction writer Lucia Berlin met the New York School poet and librettist Kenward Elmslie at Naropa University’s Summer Writing Program, where they were both visiting writers. “We just clicked,” Berlin said in a 2002 interview. “We cut through right away into each other’s deep feelings. It was like falling in love, or going back to your childhood best friend in first grade, that kind of really pure friendship.” That friendship developed through a faithful and frequent correspondence, a literary exchange of about two letters per week over the course of a decade. Lucia was living in Bould…
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A screening of “A Stop at Willoughby” at the Last Stop Willoughby Festival. Clarence Larkin’s commentary on THE BOOK OF REVELATION is written LIKE THIS, crafted with occasional capitalizations to emphasize IMAGES and TERMS. Reading it doesn’t feel like being shouted at but rather kind and intimate, as though he’s DIRECTING our attention in the same way a CHILD is directed to look at CARDINALS and CATERPILLARS during NATURE WALKS. Larkin directs the reader to symbols like THE SEVEN SEALS, a kingdom made of STONE, and the NEW HEAVEN and NEW EARTH. As a writing style, its effect is in guiding the EYE to see ONE THING over another. Eventually we’re pointed to this: a vision …
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Yellow tree, via Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under CC0 4.0. vladimir nabokov said: i confess i do not believe in time in BEING AND TIME, poor heidegger didn’t finish the time part in time to publish it with the being part so everything-now must be not-being there is a pine needle stuck in the screen the side nearest me must be the being side the one further away’s the time side nabokov only said the first line even when you have nothing to do there’s not enough time in the day there are 5 stinkbugs on the back porch—the stinkbugs don’t make you feel good or likable. but the one beautiful tree we have that i can see is still fulsome. in years past it’s alwa…
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Photograph by Erica MacLean. The Japanese writer Taeko Kōno is a maestro of transgressive desire whose stories often—and deliciously—use food as a metaphor for sexual appetite. Kōno, who died in 2015, is considered one of Japan’s foremost feminist writers and one of its foremost writers of any kind. She won many of the country’s top literary prizes, including the Akutagawa, the Tanizaki, the Noma, and the Yomiuri. The single selection of her work in English, Toddler-Hunting & Other Stories, first published by New Directions in 1996 and translated by Lucy North and Lucy Lower, contains ten dark, deceptively simple stories about women who find the gender roles in Jap…
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Enrance of the Attica Correctional Facility, 2007. Photo by Jayu, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons. Following the Attica uprising in September 1971, Celes Tisdale, a poet and a professor at Buffalo State College, began leading poetry workshops at the correctional facility—the first at a U.S. prison to be run by a non-inmate and an African American. Poems written by his students were published in 1974 as Betcha Ain’t: Poems from Attica, by Broadside Press, the first major Black-owned publishing house in America. Below are several noncontinuous entries from the diary Tisdale kept during that time, beginning with his first day at the facility. May 24, 1972 4:30 P.M.…
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Vivian Gornick. Photograph by Mitchell Bach. Courtesy of Farrar, Straus and Giroux. “I could hardly believe my luck in having found her,” Vivian Gornick writes of the persona she created for her pivotal 1987 book Fierce Attachments, a rich, genre-redefining portrayal of fraught maternal bonds that the New York Times has anointed the best memoir of the past fifty years. “It was not only that I admired her style, her generosity, her detachment—such a respite from the me that was me!—she had become the instrument of my illumination.” That shock of wonderment and good fortune is familiar to all Gornick’s readers, and especially to the many writers of nonfiction who still pas…
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My favorite app is Find My Friends. If you do not know what this is, it’s an app that lets you share your location at all times with fellow iPhone havers. I have access to the locations of nineteen friends and they have access to mine. I also have two friends, both named Nick, who refuse to share their locations with anyone—but I have given mine to both of them out of loyalty, just because I like the idea that they know where I am. I like looking at the map of New York, seeing little bubbles with my friends’ initials pop up in the usual and the surprising places. Sara is at the office. Graham is at home. Ben is at the bar where he does trivia. This guy I met at a concert …
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Henrietta Garnett was forty-one when her first and last novel, Family Skeletons, was published in 1986. She knew that her debut, a tragic gothic romance revolving around a complex constellation of family secrets, would face an unusual degree of public scrutiny: Henrietta was English literary royalty, the direct descendant of the Bloomsbury Group on both sides of her family tree. Her father was the novelist David “Bunny” Garnett, author of the James Tait Black Memorial Prize–winning Lady into Fox (1922), a book so highly regarded it was on the British high school syllabus when his daughter was a teenager in the late fifties and early sixties. Henrietta’s mother was Angelic…
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New Orleans, 1958. Licensed under CC0 4.0. In our new Fall issue, no. 241, we published Nancy Lemann’s “Diary of Remorse.” To mark the occasion, we asked writers to reflect on Lemann’s remarkable literary career. In the early years of the revived Vanity Fair, I happened to be in Tina Brown’s office when the conversation turned to a dispatch Nancy Lemann had just filed from the trial of Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards, which Nancy, a child of New Orleans, was covering for the magazine. Tina was dissatisfied, borderline exasperated: Nowhere in the article, she complained, did Nancy specify what the trial was about, what the actual charges were, and what the criminal pena…
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Jack Kerouac’s notebook. Image courtesy of the Jack Kerouac Estate and Charles Shuttleworth. Read any biography of Jack Kerouac and here’s essentially what you’ll learn: that in the summer of 1956 he spent two months in a mountaintop shack as a fire lookout for the US Forest Service in the North Cascades in Washington State, and nothing much happened. Mostly he was bored. Jack’s experience on Desolation Peak marked the climax of his involvement with Buddhism and of a decade of restless travel; it’s the high point of his journeying and spiritual seeking. A voracious reader, he nevertheless chose to go up the mountain without any books, only his personally typed copy of t…
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In the early seventies, Helen Garner, a newly single mother, found herself in the first of several “hippie houses” she lived in that decade in the suburbs of Melbourne. She read and made up songs with her daughter and fell in love with a heroin addict—an affair she documented daily in her diary. The writing deepened as her life became more complicated. Soon, she began to see an outline. “Story is a chunk of life with a bend in it,” Garner told Thessaly La Force in her Art of Fiction interview, published in the Fall issue of the Review, “and I could feel this one coming.” Every day for a year, after she had dropped her daughter off at school, she sat in the state library w…
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Saint Ignatius of Loyola Church in Cincinnati, Ohio. Photograph by Nheyob, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons. In my hometown of New Orleans, which is overwhelmingly Catholic, certain men I know go periodically to a Catholic retreat up the river. They go there to repent. Probably they contemplate goodness. And goodness is a lot more interesting than it sounds. The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola are used as the format for these pursuits. Saint Ignatius of Loyola was a womanizer, purportedly—like a lot of the saints. So probably he wanted to repent, too. My friends growing up in New Orleans were all Catholic girls, and I’ve often wondered about their …
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“My mother couldn’t believe the Queen’s hats. My mother disliked birds and hats.” Queen Elizabeth II in New Zealand, 1953. Licensed under CC0 2.0. When the Queen of Tuvalu died, I remembered. My parents were pleased that at ten years old I liked Mark Twain. And then they discovered that, as with Cleo the Talking Dog five years earlier, I would not move on from The Prince and the Pauper. I wasn’t interested in any other non-school book. I’d seen the film of Twain’s novel and Errol Flynn had the right to sit in my presence every week when I reread my favorite parts. Tom Sawyer? Any luckily orphaned boy princes? No? Then no thanks. My mother had purchased from a door-to-d…
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Mur de la Peste, Lagnes. Photograph by Marianne Casamance, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons. The Plague was not an easy book to write. Camus was ill when he began it, then trapped by the borders keeping him in Nazi-occupied France. Aside from these difficulties, there was the pressure of authentically speaking up about the violence of World War II without falling into the nationalist heroics he deplored. Like with most problems in art, the solution was to address it directly: in one of the most revelatory sections of the novel, the character Tarrou blurs the line between fancy rhetoric and violence. “I’ve heard so much reasoning that almost turned my head,” he says, “…
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Danielle Orchard, Lint, 2022. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin Gallery. The women in Danielle Orchard’s paintings are usually undressed, or only partially clothed. They might be smoking a cigarette in the bath, or staring at themselves in a mirror, or eating from a bowl of popcorn in bed. Orchard’s settings are often mundane—a bedroom, a boudoir, a kitchen—but these environments are striking in their angularity and irregular perspectives, the paintings’ compositions at once calling to mind the art historical tradition of the female nude and unsettling it. Her painting Lint graces the cover of the Fall issue of the Review and depicts a woman in stockings and no knicker…
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Photo by Lisa Pines. This fall marks a transition on our editorial team, as Vijay Seshadri is bidding the Review farewell—at least as our poetry editor, a role he has occupied since 2019. He will be greatly missed. With our forthcoming Winter issue, we will welcome to the role Srikanth “Chicu” Reddy, a professor at the University of Chicago who has served as a guest editor of Poetry magazine and is the author of three books of poetry, most recently Underworld Lit. We are deeply grateful to Vijay for introducing us to the work of so many remarkable poets over the last few years, and for being a marvelous colleague and a true friend to the Review. The worst thing about ch…
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A page from “How to Name Your Baby,” in issue no. 66. John Train, a cofounder of The Paris Review and its first managing editor—or “so-called managing editor,” as he often put it—died last month, at age ninety-four. It was Train who coined the Review’s name and, in its early days in Paris, as a member of the Café Tournon crowd, he pushed the magazine away from criticism, writing later that “theories, both literary and political, are the enemy of art.” Train went on to become “an operator in high finance and world affairs,” as the Times obituary put it today, but many will remember him best for his love of small idiosyncrasies: in the early fifties, while studying for a …
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Gabriel Mälesskircher, Saint Guy Healing a Possessed Man, public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. This week, we remember Hilary Mantel (1952–2022), and bring you recommendations from two of our issue no. 241 contributors. On holiday in France, I went to Colmar to see the Isenheim Altarpiece in the Musée Unterlinden. Afterward, wandering through the museum’s collection of medieval and Renaissance art, I came across a small oil painting: part of an altarpiece attributed to Gabriel Mälesskircher, a fifteenth-century German artist from Colmar. Saint Guy Healing a Possessed Man has clear, singing colors, predominantly reds and greens. While Saint Guy looks on, the possessed m…
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Photograph by David Wipf. Spanish moss, City Park, New Orleans, June 1958, via Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under CC BY 2.0. Nancy Lemann’s work is deceptive in its meandering. She is thinking deeply even when it seems as if her thoughts are floating. Her laser powers slice into idiocy (and dice it) while they also beam sympathetically onto, as she would call it, the folly of the human condition. Her work evokes something old-fashioned in its manner and tone, and this proves to be a way she keeps herself from being subsumed in the clichés of modern culture even as she is examining it. But she is observing the human being of today. One of her passions is history, with p…
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A collage by Dennis, reflecting her interest in how interior spaces relate to feminism. Made in 1971 in her loft on Grand Street. Courtesy of Donna Dennis. Ted Berrigan was the first in the circle of poets around The Poetry Project at Saint Mark’s Church to ask me to design an announcement mailer for one of his readings. He encouraged others to do the same. In the late sixties, I designed a number of flyers and covers for mimeographed poetry books. These gave me the first public exposure for my work. Ted and I saw one another off and on for about five years. In the spring of 1970, we lived together on Saint Mark’s Place in the East Village, until June, when Ted went to …
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Photograph by Jem Stone, via Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0. When we asked Terrance Hayes to make a playlist for you, our readers, he wrote us a poem. Of course he did. As Hayes told Hilton Als in his Art of Poetry interview in our new Fall issue, formal constraints offer him “a way to get free.” Many of Hayes’s poems derive their titles from song names and lyrics; others are influenced by the mood of a particular album or track. Music, he tells Als, “changes the air in the room.” This particular playlist-poem has a track for almost any kind of air—or room—you might find yourself in this week. Read and listen to “Occasional Soundtracks” below. Soundtra…
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Marilyn Monroe’s hand and footprints outside the Chinese Theater in Hollywood. Photo by Sailko, via Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0, This week, we bring you recommendations from three of our issue no. 241 contributors. Twenty-two years late I picked up Blonde, Joyce Carol Oates’s enormous novel about Marilyn Monroe. At first it jolted me with its jangling, sick vulgarity. My pulse rate shot up. I was trembling. I wanted to throw it across the room. But I also had to acknowledge immediately that it was brilliant. Three days later I dragged myself out the other end, shaken by a sort of angst and awestruck by Oates’s manic power, her huge imagination, her ab…
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Photograph by Sophie Haigney. In our new Fall issue, no. 241, we published Nancy Lemann’s “Diary of Remorse.” To mark the occasion, we asked writers to reflect on Lemann’s remarkable literary career. I picked up Nancy Lemann’s Lives of the Saints from a sidewalk pile in Greenpoint in October 2020, just a few minutes before it started raining in sheets. I read the novel in one sitting when I got home. The next day, I lent it to a friend with whom I was crashing for a few weeks. She returned it twenty-two months later, at the beach. Before we even left Fort Tilden I found myself lending it out to another friend. I’m not very generous with books, to be honest, but for some…
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Hans Georg Berger, Hervé Guibert and Eugène Savitzkaya, New Year’s Eve, Rio nell’Elba, 1984. Courtesy of Semiotext(e). In 1977, the writers Hervé Guibert and Eugène Savitzkaya began exchanging letters. Though the two rarely met, Guibert became increasingly obsessed with Savitzkaya as they continued writing to each other over the course of a decade. This selection of their messages is the first in our new series featuring correspondence, Letters. Paris March 11, 1982 Eugène a belgian stamp sticks out of my mailbox, what if it’s a letter from Eugène, and anyone could have taken it, between the moment when the mailman delivered it and the moment I return home, clutte…
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Fall River, Massachusetts. Photograph courtesy of the Library of Congress. So many accounts of Chekhov’s death, many of them exaggerated, some outright bogus. The only indisputable thing is that he died at forty-four. That’s etched in stone in Moscow. I like to read them anyway. I’m not alone. Chekhov death fanatics abound. His last sip of champagne. The whole thing about the popping of the cork, I forget what exactly. The enigmatic words he likely never said: Has the sailor left? But wouldn’t it be wonderful if he had said them? What sailor? Where’d he go? His wife, the actress Olga Knipper, wrote that a huge black moth careened around the room crashing into light bul…
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ALGONKIAN SUCCESS STORIES
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Episode 547, Your Transcript Has Arrived
The transcript for Podcast 547. The HarperCollins Strike with Olga Brudastova, President of UAW 2110 has been posted! This podcast transcript was handcrafted with meticulous skill by Garlic Knitter. Many thanks. ❤ Click here to subscribe to The Podcast → View the full article -
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SBTB Bestsellers: January 13 – January 27
Our latest bestseller list is brought to you by a good night’s sleep, a cup of coffee at the perfect temp, and our affiliate sales data. The Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey Amazon | Kobo | GooglePlay You Sexy Thing by Cat Rambo Amazon | B&N | Kobo Never Fall for Your Fiancee by Virginia Heath Amazon | B&N | Kobo Hex Life: Wicked New Tales of Witchery by Christopher Golden Amazon | B&N | Kobo Some Dukes Have All the Luck by Christina Britton Amazon | B&N | Kobo Not Even for a Duke by A.S. Fenichel Amazon | B&N | Kobo Found by the Lake Monster by Lillian Lark Amazon | B&N | Kobo Doing Time by Jodi Taylor Amazon | B&N | Kobo The Chocolate Kiss by Laura Florand Amazon | B&N | Kobo | GooglePlay Scandalously Yours by Cara Elliot Amazon | B&N | Kobo I hope your weekend reading was worthy of a snow day! View the full article -
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Whatcha Reading? January 2023, Part Two
It’s that time! Time for you to tell us what you’re reading! EllenM: After a long period of being totally bored by and sick of most historical romance, I’m suddenly finding myself enjoying it again! Just finished A Scandalous Kind of Duke by Mia Vincy ( A | BN | K | AB ) which was delightfully full of pining and longing. I also may have stayed up way too late last night binging the first couple volumes of the manga series My Boss’s Kitten which is fairly fluffy and ridiculous fun if you are not immediately squicked out by the boss/employee thing. The series description calls the male MC “sadistic” which seems misleading as from what I can tell he’s mostly just (consensually) really horny, haha. Its sexy and silly fun but I probably wouldn’t pay money for it if it was not on comixology unlimited. Susan: I’m taking a leaf out of everyone else’s book and listening to the audiobook of All Systems Red. ( A | BN | K | AB ) Murderbot remains my favourite character; its arc across the series is that it doesn’t want to be more human, it has social anxiety and all of these tv shows to watch, and is thus the most relatable character of all. Sarah: The narrator is so good too. A | BN | K | ABMaya: Twinsies, I’m also doing a Murderbot relisten! Along with Murderbot, I recently heard an old interview of Akwaeke Emezi and now I’m kinda obsessed with their writing, so I’m listening to You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty. Shana: CANNOT wait to hear what you think, Maya. Kiki: My friend sent me A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall for Christmas and I’m so, so, so excited to read it once I finish my other behemoths. Sneezy: The English translation for season 2 of I Raised a Black Dragon is out on Manta and I’M SO HAPPY!!! A | BNThe newest chapter kicked in strong with Noa back in her own body, and Leonard low key loosing his shit at how attractive she is. His 19th century ass cannot with her 21st century shorts and now her running around in a chemise. Tara: I’m reading The Fixer by Lee Winter, ( A | BN | K ) which is the first part of a duology. I’ve been excited about this one for a while because she’s one of my favourite authors and she’s showing the romance of a villain who deeply fucked over one of my favourite characters ever. I’m VERY curious to see how this character gets redeemed. Elyse: I stayed up all night reading A Long Time Coming by Meghan Quinn. It’s a super cute, sexy, funny friends to lovers. My only issue is the hero is names Breaker. Breaker. I kept thinking Beaker. What are you reading? Tell us in the comments below! View the full article -
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Poker Face is a Crackling, Groovy Heirloom PI Show
There is something grizzled, world-weary, and wise about Charlie Cole (Natasha Lyonne), the protagonist of Poker Face, Peacock’s new ten-episode detective series developed by Lyonne and writer-director Rian Johnson. She is a compact amalgam of a whole TV guide’s worth of ultra-cool, unpretentious detective characters. Both odd and slick, kooky and badass, spacy and focused, she has the canny, street-smart aura and vaguely Brooklyn dialect of Frank Columbo, the laconic, chill sensibilities and trailer-living habits of Jim Rockford, and the outwardly-rumpled appearance and insouciant supermarket-shopping patterns of Jeffrey “the Dude” Lebowski. Like all those guys, Charlie lives life on her own terms. She wants to enjoy it, but isn’t interested in going to grand lengths to do so. She works as a cocktail waitress on a Las Vegas casino floor, drinks beer in a lawn chair in her desert backyard before her shifts, and looks after her motley friends and neighbors with a wry but caring air. In the first episode, a character offers her a job that could make her rich. “I’ve been rich,” she says, disinterested. “It’s easier than being poor, harder than doing just fine.” She has a unique talent—a flawless ability to tell when someone is lying—and this has brought her great success and also great reckoning. Charlie is a former poker champion, blackballed from tournaments after rumors spread about how she was able to win so consistently. But she doesn’t mind where she has ended up. She works, she rests. It’s a simple life and there’s nothing wrong with that. But when a good friend and fellow casino employee named Natalie (Dascha Polanco) winds up dead, she is moved to investigate. She cares deeply about her friend and knows in her gut that something is off about the circumstances of her death. To be clear, through investigating, Charlie doesn’t find herself or find meaning or discover potential or something like that. She doesn’t need to do these things; she is more than content with her life. She’s just good at reading people and she wants to do right by her friend. But when she does solve things, her life becomes a bit complicated. And she hops into her Plymouth Barracuda and hits the road. Poker Face is an hour-long, case-of-the-week mystery series, so each town Charlie visits leads to a new case, new characters. She sort of can’t help look into things that seem to be suspicious; she wants to lend a hand to those around her, but she’s also scratching an itch. If someone lies to her, she knows it, and she has to figure out why. The episodes are laced together by the simple act of pursuit; Charlie’s on the run, kinda—hunted by a wealthy family’s in-house fixer, Cliff Legrande (a wonderfully menacing Benjamin Bratt). Like Dr. Richard Kimble in the show The Fugitive, just as much as we want her to stick around the watering holes where she makes friends and solves crimes, we also know she’s gotta get the hell out before Cliff catches up to her. The gambit of Poker Face is simple and tight, but the show itself is flamboyantly fun. This is partially because resurrects Golden Age detective TV tropes. Notably, Poker Face is, in Philip MacDonald’s words, a “howcatchem” (as opposed to “whodunnit”), a variety of mystery plot in which the audience sees the murder and knows who the killer is, and then watches the detective figure it all out. Although “howcatchem” plots track back to at least the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries, they most prominently featured in episodes of Columbo, which were almost mini-movies that made its villains the episode’s protagonists, and as such, attracted a host of distinguished guest-stars. The same is true for Poker Face; the first episode revolves around a character played Adrien Brody, while later episodes feature performances from Hong Chau, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Lil Rey Howery, and Rob Perlman, Stephanie Hsu, Tim Blake Nelson, Nick Nolte, Ellen Barkin, Megan Suri, Judith Light, Jameela Jamil, Tim Meadows, Clea DuVall, Chloë Sevigny, and Brandon Micheal Hall. Johnson says he was inspired by TV shows in this mold: “hourlong, star-driven, case-of-the-week shows,” ones with “the anchoring presence of a charismatic lead and a different set of guest stars and, in many cases, a totally different location, every single week.” He cites “Quantum Leap,” “The A-Team,” “Highway to Heaven” and even “The Incredible Hulk.” This endeavor proves a neat counterweight to Johnson’s recent forays into whodunnits, the star-studded Knives Out and its sequel, Glass Onion, which are nostalgic case studies of the traditional mystery. The desire to emulate one’s favorite entertainment from a past era isn’t enough to elevate a project, though; in fact, new stories that owe too much to their predecessors easily end up encumbered by them, or paling in comparison to them. But Poker Face doesn’t suffer this fate, mostly due to the distinct charms of Natasha Lyonne, whose mildly-wackadoo, somewhat rough-edged, occasionally-wisecracking Charlie feels more like an extension of Lyonne’s own onscreen persona (hello Russian Doll) rather than a knockoff of a beloved TV PI. Also, obviously, Lyonne is woman, and we don’t get spaced-out, oddball lady detectives as much as we deserve to, so she can’t help but feel novel. (Interestingly, Charlie, with her traditionally-masculine name, is also perhaps doubly-gendered; on paper, she would appear to be exactly the kind of male PI we’ve long watched on TV, but she seems to identify as a woman.) But Lyonne is also a very earnest performer; crucial to a character who can read bluffs and deceit in others, she is unfailingly sincere. Even amid the (slight shenanigans), she is genuine and true. A friend says that if she had been born in another time, she might have been a knight. The series is set in the present-day, but, although characters use smart phones and read clickbait, it stays distinctly analog, cultivating a righteously 70s-patina. The orangey desert backdrop and brown dive bar wall-paneling do much for this texture, but the real crux of this vibe is how personal it is. Charlie is described as a “human lie detector.” She has a skill that supersedes the kind of forensic investigating or “hacking” that became so common around millennium-era procedurals. (AI doesn’t have anything on Charlie… yet.) It’s a show about the tangible… or rather, making the intangible tangible. Charlie drifts from place to place, making connections with people in communities, changing things (a little bit) for the better. Poker Face is streaming on Peacock. The first four episodes aired on January 26th, 2023. The remaining six will stream weekly on Thursdays. View the full article -
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The Bell in the Fog: Excerpt and Cover Reveal
There’s a crowd at the bar when I get inside, but I hang back, alone, and watch. There’s a bucket swinging in my hand, rusted tin, filled with pinkish water, and my hands are dyed red. They match the walls of The Ruby, though it’s so packed tonight, you can barely see the diamond wallpaper through the crowd. A constant hum of people talking over each other fills the room, pierced by a loud laugh here and there, like the church organ shrieking over the choir. A few people stare at me – I don’t know if it’s the bucket or just knowing who I am, but they don’t say anything. They look away, quick, back at a friend, or the stage, where the band plays It’s No Sin, the female impersonator’s voice struggling to be heard. People are dancing anyway, hands clasped, bodies close, men with men, women with women, some men with women, even. I haven’t seen a mixed gay bar since the war, when women needed men to escort them in. All colors of people, too. Elsie has really gotten word out that The Ruby is the most welcoming queer bar in San Francisco. Except maybe for me. News has trickled out about me, too – the gay PI with the office above the Ruby – but with it so has my past, and no one at a gay bar wants to get too close to a cop, even if he was kicked off the force for being caught in one. Especially not when he’s holding a bucket of what looks like blood. I push my way through the people who won’t look at me, trying to be delicate, making sure the bucket doesn’t spill, and make my way to the bar. Gene is pouring out drinks with steady hands that were trained for the scalpel before someone sent photos of him and a beaux to his medical school. He looks gorgeous in the light. He glows. I know I should probably try talking to him more. But our kiss was months ago, and I was broken and bloody and glad to be alive. Since then, whenever I’ve gotten up the nerve to talk to him, he’s smiled and laughed, same as he has with any other customer. He looks down at the bucket I’m holding, and frowns. “Need the sink?” he asks. “If that’s all right. I’m afraid I’ll spill it if I try to bring it upstairs.” He moves to the left, making space for me, and I squeeze in next to him. Our shoulders touch and for a moment I think of asking him to dance, what that would be like, being out on the floor with him, shoulder to shoulder, arms around his waist. Like I belonged, I think. Like I was home. I pour the red water out, and it sloshes loudly into the sink. “That’s not blood, is it?” a patron asks, watching. He’s drunk enough to talk to me. “Paint,” I say. “Someone wrote some not-nice things on the building a few weeks back. No one else had time yet, so I washed it off.” “Aren’t you supposed to be a detective?” I shrug, not sure how to answer. The motion tilts the bucket a little harder and the last of the red water splashes back on me, hitting me in the face. The patron laughs as Gene hands me a towel. “He is a detective,” Gene says, as I wipe my face off, hiding my smile. I hand the towel back to him. “Thanks,” I say, and go to wash my hands off, too. I scrub, and the paint won’t shift. My hands stay stained. “Want a drink?” Gene asks. “No,” I say. “Thanks.” I stand next to him a moment longer until he reaches past me to get a bottle and I realize I’m in the way. I leave the bucket under the sink where it belongs and retreat to an empty table away from the bar. Gene shoots me a look when I get there, but I can’t read it – maybe he’s confused about my not wanting a drink. I try not to order drinks. Elsie said they’d be on the house, but considering I’m not bringing in much money, like she hoped I would, I’d rather not drain her cash and her liquor. I’m supposed to be paying her a percentage of my earning from cases, but cases aren’t exactly pouring in. As a cop, they used to find me, now… I’m not sure how to get them. I wait in my office most nights, and sometimes someone will walk in, but most nights it’s empty, so I come down here, and stand to the side, hoping that’ll drum up business somehow. Tonight I at least got to make myself useful when one of the cocktail waitresses mentioned the graffiti. At least I cleaned up something. Elsie sits down next to me. “Oh, will you just ask him out already?” she says, lighting a cigarette. She’s in a blue suit turned nearly purple from all the red light bouncing off the walls. Large ruby earrings sparkle from the shadows of her bob. “What do you mean?” “I mean it’s been months of you two making baby eyes at each other and nothing happening. If you don’t do something soon, he’s going to assume you’re not interested in him. It’s nearly October already, Andy, get to it if you want to ring in ‘53 with him.” “I don’t…” I shake my head and look back at him. He’s laughing at something a guy at the bar said. Maybe I’ve been making eyes at him, but has he really been making eyes at me, or just staring at my stare? “How would I even do that?” “What?” Elsie blows out a smoke ring. “What do you mean?” “I mean…” I don’t know what I mean. Two women, one in a suit, dance past us. She sighs. “You just go up to him and ask him if he wants to get a drink.” “He works at a bar.” “Somewhere else,” Elsie shrugs. “But-” “Elsie, Stan is trying to sneak another number into his set.” I look up at Lee, the showgirl who’s interrupted us, and check for lipstick; deep red tonight. She’s in a yellow halterneck dress that sets off her dark brown skin, and a black wig that’s tied back in a bun with a large yellow flower. She sees me staring, and winks. I’ve know a lot of the show girls and boys in passing, but Lee has been the closest to welcoming. She told me flat out that when she’s got the lipstick on, to call her miss, and when it comes off, to call him sir, and if I did that, we’d be pals. Easy enough to check. I don’t want to mess it up and have the friendliest face in the hallway, maybe the whole city, stop talking to me. “Oy vay,” Elsie says, looking at the stage, where Stan, the female impersonator, is readying the mic for another number. “I’ll take care of it.” “Sorry Andy,” Lee says, “didn’t mean to steal her away.” “It’s fine,” I say, as Elsie stands. “You have a fella waiting in your office, by the way. Nice shoulders.” “Sad or angry?” I ask. Those are the two types I get. Sad men, wondering if their boyfriends are cheating on them, and angry men, convinced their boyfriends are cheating on them. Cheap work, tailing men meeting other men, or going home to the wives they haven’t told anyone about, but I can’t be picky. I’m new at this, and I need to bring in whatever I can. “Not sure,” Lee shakes her head. “I think he came up through the garage though.” The ground floor under the club is a garage with an entrance in the alley. There’s parking down there; my car, Elsie’s, some others – but with it being out of the way and a bouncer in the stairwell keeping an eye out for the cops, it’s an easy way up to my office without even setting foot in the club. “Better get to work, then,” Elsie says, walking away, “and ask him out.” She glances meaningfully over at Gene. “Ask who out?” Lee asks, grinning at me. “You finally find a boy you like, Andy? It better not be Stan.” “No,” I say quickly. “It’s… something else. Thanks, Lee. Sorry I won’t get to hear you sing. I’ll try to get down before your set is over.” “You’ll hear me through the floorboards, honey,” she says, walking after Elsie, her hips swaying. Gene’s eyes flicker to mine for a moment as I pass the bar, or maybe I imagine it, and he’s just staring at a drink at he pours it. I can talk to him later. Leaving a client waiting means they have time to reconsider and walk out. Elsie hasn’t set an expiration date on this little experiment of having an in-house detective, but I must seem like a bad idea by now. I bring in enough to feed myself, sure, but her percentage is much lower than the value of renting me the space, and we both know it. How long before she decides my office and apartment were better before, as storerooms for booze? I have to shove through the crowds, and by the time I get halfway upstairs to my office, I can hear Lee singing How High the Moon. The floor above the club is just a hallway from one elevator to stairs, dark purple walls and lined with doors, most of them open. The two closest to the elevator are my office and apartment, respectively, but the other four are the dressing rooms, doors always thrown open, the hallway bustling with performers and musicians and sometimes waitresses here on break, or fans coming to leave flowers for their favorite performers. People laugh and talk as loudly as downstairs as they paint on make-up or fake mustaches, zip up dresses, button vests. At first, the chaos worried me, but it actually feels like home, the same sort of clamor as working at the police station, only now I’m not looking over my shoulder to see if they’re realizing the truth about me. Right now, the hall is filled with white feathers slowly floating down through the air and scattered on the floor like flower petals after a thunderstorm. I glance into one of the dressing rooms and see Walter trying to squeeze into a white dress that’s covered in feathers. Sarah, already in a full tuxedo, is trying to pull up the zipper for him, but it’s not going, and he hops up and down, hoping to make it fit, shedding feathers as he does. “It fit last week,” he says. “You got fat this week.” In the next room, two female impersonators are peeling off their makeup, cackling at a joke I didn’t hear. A male impersonator is leaning against the wall, smoking. When I nod, she nods back, which is something. They never nodded back the first few months I was here. Even if they’re coming to terms with my old life, they don’t love that I’m suddenly living and working next door. Clients don’t love it, either. Even with a covert way up here, the way people gossip, you need to be careful. But I’m the only queer detective in town, so some of them still risk it. Even when I’m not here, someone always tells me if a client shows up. It’s still uncommon enough it’s noteworthy. Not that the cases are. I’d thought I could do something here, maybe make up for who I was. But all I do is follow people, tell people who love them their secrets. I’m not helping out the way I wanted. No one even trusts me enough to ask me when they’re in real trouble. Why would they? Elsie had the door redone when I moved in, Amethyst Investigations stenciled in dark purple. I don’t love the name, but I get why she chose it – being affiliated with the Ruby, being another of Elsie’s gems – it means I’m trustworthy, like the Ruby is. Most welcoming gay club in San Francisco, most welcoming gay PI, too. In theory anyway. Certainly not everyone is buying it though, or I’d have more business. I wonder who’s desperate or angry enough to come see me tonight. There’s a man sitting in the chair that faces my desk. His back is to me, but I can see he’s blonde, broad shouldered, tall. I close the door with a click and he turns around. Oh. The recognition hits like an anchor that’s dropped too fast, crashing into the seabed, into both of us, sand flying up, fish fleeing, a heavy thud and a scar on the ocean floor. He looks just as shocked as I feel. Well, at least that’s two of us. “I didn’t realize it would be you,” he says, almost apologetically. He stands up. “I can go. I mean, I should go.” I think about letting him. He can drift out the door like smoke and I can go back to thinking of him as a sour memory. But I can’t be turning down clients. And… I want to know. What happened. From THE BELL IN THE FOG by Lev AC Rosen. Copyright ©2023 by Lev AC Rosen. Reprinted by permission of the publisher, Forge Books. All rights reserved. View the full article -
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Lesbian Romance, Sandra Kitt, & More
Found by the Lake Monster Found by the Lake Monster by Lillian Lark is $1.49 at Amazon and $2.99 elsewhere. I’m so curious about this Monstrous Matches series and the covers are really wonderful. However, I believe this one is a novella and is listed 1.5 in the series. A lake monster in heat, a lost human in the woods, and the lie that gets her stuffed… Getting lost in the woods was not the adventure Amy had in mind when she jumped at the chance to search for the local lake monster. She just wanted to liven up her steady but boring life, not wonder if every shadow on the ground is a snake and worry that no one will ever find her. Luckily, someone does find her. Unexpectedly, that person isn’t human. Wildly, he seems to think that she’s his date. Adrian faces what could be his last heat. As his temperature rises and his biological clock ticks, his only hope is that the witch being sent by a famous matchmaker will be as compatible as he dreams. Can he convince his date to not only provide relief during his heat but also carry his eggs? Found by the Lake Monster takes place in the same world as Stalked by the Kraken and includes breeding, knotting, and oviposition. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. Something True Something True by Karelia Stetz-Waters is $1.99! Stetz-Waters newer books have been favorably reviewed and mentioned on the site. This is an older title and the description notes some pretty serious themes. Tate Grafton has a tough exterior, but underneath she’s kind, caring, and fiercely loyal. That’s why she first started working at Out in Portland Coffee-it was her way of repaying the shop’s owner for taking her in as a homeless teenager. Nine years later, the coffee shop is floundering and Tate feels like she’s letting life pass her by . . . until she shares an unforgettable night with a beautiful stranger. When the mysterious woman disappears the next morning, Tate doesn’t even know her name. Laura Enfield was supposed to be in Portland for only a few days-just long enough to oversee a simple business deal before joining her conservative father on his political campaign. But when the closeted Laura romances an employee of the coffee shop her company is shutting down, things get suddenly complicated. Now, the lies she’s told for years are beginning to unravel, and her biggest secret is about to be exposed. Laura can’t stop thinking about the barista with the soulful eyes, but after a lifetime of deception, can she finally embrace something true? Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. The Color of Love The Color of Love by Sandra Kitt is $1.99! This contemporary romance came out in 1995. Kitt’s latest book was released last February and had a Buzzfeed write-up on it. Did you pick it up? Acclaimed for her moving depictions of interracial love, bestselling author Sandra Kitt delivers a passionate and provocative tale of modern romance. An artist trapped in an unfulfilling relationship, Leah Downey wants more out of life. But she plays it safe, never venturing too far from her comfort zone . . . not since the night she was mugged at knifepoint. Beginning a relationship with a perfect stranger is completely out of character for Leah. But something about Jason Horn strikes a chord deep within her. They couldn’t be more different. Jason is white, a streetwise New York cop haunted by his own demons. He’s stunned by his instant attraction to this vibrant black woman who arouses both desire and his fiercest protective instincts. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. The Wolf in the Whale The Wolf in the Whale by Jordanna Max Brodsky is 99c! This was a highly anticipated release on the site, given Sarah’s enjoyment of Brodsky’s books in the past. However, there is a very graphic rape scene in the book, which put a lot of us off. If you want more details about this, I highly recommend looking through Goodreads reviews. The heroic journey of an Inuit shaman and a Viking warrior in an epic tale of survival, love, and clashing gods in the frozen Arctic of 1000 AD. Born with the soul of a hunter and the language of the gods, Omat is destined to become a shaman like her grandfather. To protect her people, she invokes the spirits of the sky, the sea, and the air. But the gods have stopped listening, the seals won’t come, and Omat’s family is starving. Desperate to save them, Omat journeys through the icy wastes, fighting for survival with every step. When she meets a Viking warrior and his strange new gods, together they set in motion a conflict that could shatter her world…or save it. The Wolf in the Whale is a powerful tale of magic, discovery and adventure, featuring an unforgettable narrator ready to confront the gods themselves. Add to Goodreads To-Read List → You can find ordering info for this book here. View the full article -
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Intuition’s Ear: On Kira Muratova
Still from Anya Zalevskaya’s Posle priliva (2020). Courtesy of the director. In the fall of 2019 I was newly living in the Midwest. In my free time, I’d take long, aimless walks, trying to tune to the flat cold of the place. On one such walk I got a call from my friend Anya Zalevskaya; she was in Odesa, she said, working on a film, a documentary about the Ukrainian (but also Romanian, Jewish, and Soviet) director Kira Muratova. When Anya called, it was almost midnight in Odesa. She was sitting on a bench by the Black Sea; I could hear the waves, the inhale of her cigarette. What film of Muratova’s should I watch first? I asked her. Ah, she said, The Asthenic Syndrome, for sure. 1990’s The Asthenic Syndrome takes us to Odesa, too, but this is an Odesa at the fraying edge of a Soviet time-space where, significantly, we never see the sea. The film is shot in places that suggest a borderland, an edge, a wobble: construction sites, mirrors, photographs, headstones, film screenings, cemeteries, a dog pound, a hospital ward, a soft-porn shoot. This in-between sense is temporal, as well: Muratova notes that she “had the great fortune of working in a period between the dominance of ideology and the dominance of the market, a period of suspension, a temporary paradise.” As with the asthenic syndrome itself (a state between sleeping and waking), the film is a realization of inbetweenness, an assembly of frictions and crossover states we feel through form: through Muratova’s use of juxtaposition; through her uncanny overpatterning of echoes and coincidences; through the shifts of register between documentary and opera. The film doesn’t proceed so much as weave itself in front of us, in a dazzling ivy pattern of zones and occurrences. You could call it late-Soviet baroque realism. The film is really two films. The first, in black and white, opens out into a funeral. It’s for the husband of Natasha, we learn—a middle-aged woman possessed, in the ensuing scenes, to the very end of herself with grief. Because grief invents the road it travels, Natasha—like her audience—does not herself know what she will do next. With terrifying speed, she quits her job as a doctor, insulting coworkers in the process; takes a drunk home, tells him to strip, beds him; shoves and insults passersby. All this is captured in the camera’s eye, however, with a disinterested dignity. And then, abrupt as Natasha’s shoving, the first film breaks into the second (I’ll leave you to see the how and the why—it’s great). At the epicenter of the second film is the exhausted Nikolai, a schoolteacher who nods off in moments of emotional intensity. Occurrences flare up around Nikolai like religious antimiracles—a carp torn apart by female fingers as “Chiquita” plays, a high school boy imitating a game show host, the agonizing panorama of the dog pound. This is the social and inner world in abjection, yes: but because abjection is possible, the film seems to say, so is human dignity. The question of dignity binds the viewer to the film’s concern: what is the human when it is shorn of category, of psychology, of system? What are we when we are together? What are we when we are alone? In the rare interviews she gave, Muratova often mentioned her philosophy of film: what she called dekorativnost’ (ornamentedness) and sherokhovatost’ (roughness). (Thanks to Mikhail Iampolski’s 2021 talk “A World without Reality” for many of the Muratova quotes here.) The viewer, Muratova thought, should encounter the film’s reality as an ornament, a woven carpet, a fabric: completely antisymbolic, and thus anti-ideological; completely antipsychological, and thus antistereotypical. Reality itself, she argued, can only be looked at, admired—not interpreted, understood, or possessed. Reality doesn’t “mean,” it is. As when, in an interview, Muratova is asked: “What do the horses in your films symbolize?” To which she replies: “What do the people symbolize?” There’s no neat ending possible here in good faith; rhetoric and delicacy are insults to the present situation, and if the Black Sea that I heard over the phone in 2019—unsymbolic itself—still crashes and breaks as it always has, it sounds differently now in the human ear. Anya’s remarkable short film, Posle priliva (After the Tide, available with English subtitles here) is a pursuit of reality in Muratova’s footsteps that trusts in the uses of intuition, coincidence, error, and attention. Like Muratova, Anya immerses herself in the reality the film pursues—in this case, Odesa in 2019—and in the people, encounters, scenes, and things that this reality happens to make available in a given moment. She gives herself over to what will disclose itself; she’s not so much seeking something as she is listening, with intuition’s ear, for the inevitable that is the soul of chance. Neither of their films are ever “random,” and therein lies their art. Posle priliva came out in 2020. In 2023, it has become an elegy to a time and place, a specter and a document of what was. Not unlike The Asthenic Syndrome, which has come to mark a period (late perestroika, pre-collapse) that now haunts in its total irrecoverability. Still from Anya Zalevskaya’s Posle priliva (2020). Courtesy of the director. Timmy Straw is a poet, musician, and translator. Their poems “Brezhnev” and “Oracle at Dog” appear in our new Winter issue, no. 242. View the full article -
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ALL THE BLOOD WE SHARE by Camilla Bruce (BOOK REVIEW)
“We take care of our own. The rest can fend for themselves.” “It just will not do to let people see the maggots that crawl inside you.” Camilla Bruce’s All The Blood We Share (2023) is a unique mix of horror, true crime, western and historical novel. Based on the real life story of the Bloody Benders, a family of serial killers who operated in Labette County, Kansas from May 1871 to December 1872, Bruce draws on the scanty recorded history and the larger than life folk legends that emerged once the family’s crimes were discovered to create a powerful and disturbing work of fiction. All The Blood We Share vividly evokes 19th century prairie life, and offers a frightening but nuanced portrayal of the Benders, particularly focusing on the female members of the family. Along with her previous novels, the dark fantasy You Let Me In (2020) and historical horror Triflers Need Not Apply (2021), All The Blood We Share confirms Bruce as an exciting and unique voice in both horror and historical fiction. All The Blood We Share opens with daughter Kate and mother Elvira’s arrival in Labette County in 1871, on the run from their past and joining father William and Kate’s stepbrother John, who went on ahead to build a house for the whole Bender family, where they could set up an inn to serve travellers to the small town of Cherryvale. The Benders’ plan is to lay low and build a new life for themselves, far away from the clutches of the law after their crimes in New York and Pennsylvania have been discovered. But Kate believes she is destined for the stage, and starts setting herself up as a medium, impressing the local spiritualist circle and drawing more attention to herself and the family than Elvira is comfortable with. The loathing, misanthropy and bloodlust that runs in the Bender family line soon overflows, and the Benders discover that their murderous proclivities can earn them more by preying on unwary travellers instead of just serving them. The murders provide the family with an outlet, but it’s not long before the townsfolk of Cherryvale begin to notice the number of corpses turning up and people going missing, and soon the Benders fall again under suspicion. As the corpses pile up under the Bender estate, Kate and Elvira must both decide what lengths they will go to in order to protect their family and themselves. The novel is told through the perspectives of Kate and Elvira Bender, plus Hanson, a young boy who is the Benders’ neighbour. Hanson is an innocent who befriends the Benders when they move to Labette County and only begins to suspect their dark secrets much later. His perspective gives us a view on the Bender family from someone outside their twisted and dysfunctional family unit, initially a reliable viewpoint on the Benders which becomes more unreliable as the boy begins to realise the heinousness of the Benders’ crimes and the extent to which his silence makes him complicit. Elvira is the most reluctant member of the Bender family, according to herself at least – Kate regularly points out her hypocrisy, and that for all her moralising and catastrophising she is as guilty of the murders as the rest of them. However her sardonic view of Kate provides a necessary commentary on the bulk of the novel, which is told from Kate’s perspective. Kate’s voice is wonderful; Bruce perfectly captures her charm, which was a huge part of how the Benders got away with murder for so long, whilst showing the unpleasant sociopathic urges that writhe just underneath her charismatic façade. We get to see Kate’s entitlement and utter disregard for others – she sees herself as deserving of fame and fortune, regardless of whether she gets there by murder or by hoodwinking gullible townsfolk who want to talk to their dead relatives. Yet her delusions also extend to herself – she seems to fervently believe that she can run away with widower Nicholas and his sweet daughters and lead a new, sinless life with them, something all the rest of the Benders see through immediately for the impossible dream it is. The novel never loses sight of how nasty she is, but she is never less than compelling. In the fascinating Author’s Note at the end, Bruce informatively explains how much she was able to use the historical record for her story, how much she needed to make up, and how much she had to untangle from the myths and legends that sprung up around the Benders once their crimes were discovered. The novel deals with ideas around faith, belief and deception. Elvira deals in herbal and traditional medicine, something that, when the Bender family murders are discovered in Pennsylvania, leads to the whole family being accused of being witches. This ancient traditional fear is contrasted with Kate’s act as a medium, where she exploits contemporary beliefs and superstitions around spiritualism in order to make a living as a grifter, building on the training her mother gave her back in New York when the two of them had to survive on the streets before meeting William and John. Both the witch and the medium are traditionally feminine sources of magic and power, and tap into male fears of the untamed feminine. Thus, the fears around witchcraft become embroiled in fears around spiritualism and fears around how Kate uses her sexuality to get what she wants by flirting with men. In the afterword, Bruce notes how this has become entangled with the mythology around the Benders, with Kate’s imagined fate in legends about vigilantes capturing the Benders always being more vicariously violent than that of the other family members. In an era and culture when women were meant to be subservient to men and not draw attention to themselves in public, Kate flouted the societal rules, both in her openness about her sexuality and through her role as a medium, which allowed her to practice traditionally masculine roles like speaking in public and drinking alcohol through the guise of channelling spirits. Thus the mythology around the Benders seeks to punish her as much for her disregard for the rules of femininity as for her grisly murders. Bruce’s sympathetic and nuanced portrayal of Kate allows her to tackle all these complex ideas in her novel, critiquing the society of the time without making an apology for Kate’s brutal crimes. In All The Blood We Share, Bruce has created a compelling portrait of a family of serial killers that engages thoughtfully with the culture and the times that spawned them, never letting them off the hook but always asking pertinent questions about the society they briefly flourished in, and the enduring appeal of their mythology. As disturbing as it is compelling, All The Blood We Share is a grisly triumph, and one that cements Bruce’s reputation as a must-read author. All the Blood we Share is available now – order your copy HERE The post ALL THE BLOOD WE SHARE by Camilla Bruce (BOOK REVIEW) appeared first on The Fantasy Hive. View the full article -
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RISE OF EMPIRE by Michael J. Sullivan (BOOK REVIEW)
Please note this review will contain spoilers for the first book, Theft of Swords. “We either fight here and win, or die trying, because there won’t be any. thing left if we fail. This is the moment. This is the crucial point where the future of yet unborn generations will be decided either by our action or inaction. For centuries to come, people will look back at this time and rejoice at our courage or curse our weakness.” Rise of Empire by Michael J Sullivan is the second instalment in the Riyria Revelations series. Once again my edition by Orbit books contains two stories: Nyphron Rising and The Emerald Storm. Though this time around the stories do not feel as self contained, they follow on closely from each other and therefore the narrative feels much more linear. Though this book with its combined stories is well over seven hundred pages long at no point did I feel the pacing lagged, in fact Sullivan’s prose flows so smoothly the pages just flew by. Our story begins with the kingdom of Melengar on the brink of war. King Alric is in a rather sorry state with Imperialist enemies closing in on all sides. Having very little options left, his hand is forced to attempt an alliance with The Nationalists. Princess Arista, as Ambassador, sees her chance to finally prove her worth to her brother and save the kingdom and secretly journeys to negotiate this alliance with Degan Gaunt, leader of the Nationalists. Yet she does not go alone as she hires the most capable and trusted men she knows to accompany her, Hadrian and Royce. Elsewhere, our poor Thrace, who was falsely proclaimed as the Heir of Novron, is now crowned Empress Mordina. Though in truth she has very little power, she is merely a figurehead for the new Nyphron Empire led by the traitor Regent Saldur. Mentally traumatised and mute, Mordina lives but has very little life left in her, that is until a scullery maid, Amilia, by chance is appointed as her secretary. What follows from there is a quest to find the true Heir of Novron, perhaps the only one who can stop the Nyphron Church from seizing absolute control. Where the first book, Theft of Swords, was a fun adventure story, filled with banter and shenanigans, Rise of Empire is a more politically driven novel as Sullivan explores the role of leaders. Our three key players The Nyphron Church, The Nationalist rebels and King Alric make their moves and we wait nervously as the events play out. Once again, Hadrian and Royce are at the forefront. In this installment Hadrian may struggle to find a purpose in life, and Royce may dream of settling down with Gwen, but when the need arises both these men are pulled back into action. As they travel with Princess Arista they learn of the dire state the nations are facing and of an old enemy who seems to be behind it all. Their character’s more pensive demeanour immediately signifies a more serious tone throughout. An aspect I truly loved about this book was the way Sullivan explored Hadrian and Royce’s backstory by visiting both of their childhood homes. We take a brief glimpse into their lives before they met and realise how claustrophobic Hadrian had once felt continually scrutinised by his father, and the sheer poverty and loneliness Royce had grown up in. It deepened my emotional connection and in turn made me understand their motives for forming the Riyria. “Power rises to the top like cream and dominates the weak with cruelty disguised as–and often even believed to be- benevolence. When it comes to people, there is no other possibility. It’s a natural occurrence, like the weather, and you can’t control either one.” However, Rise of Empire is also where our female characters are brought further into the spotlight. Arista, who was a seemingly pampered princess, truly shines in this novel as she orchestrates the most daring plans to stop the Nyphron Church achieving their goals. Leaving her privileged life away from her castle tower opens Arista’s eyes to the hardships and injustice of the world and this blossoms her character to become more courageous, to try to do better, to use her wits to help the people she can. The magic, called the Art, is also more prominent as Arista discovers the key to unlocking her powers which was thrilling to see. In the case of Empress Modina, we see that she is not only a prisoner inside her palace, but also a prisoner inside her own mind. I felt Sullivan depicted her PTSD and depression with care, showing how harrowing experiences can leave you an empty shell. I admired Mordina’s slow progression, how awareness slowly crept in, but her lack of feeling made me nervous throughout. Our third main female character, Amilia, goes from strength to strength, not only because her responsibilities rise but also because she understands how her life hangs on a knife’s edge. I loved the way Amilia, given her poverty, isn’t a character hungry for power or privileges, her motives are merely to survive. These three characters, though all different from each other, are strong without needing to use a sword to show their strength, they are characters united in the universal goal of living in a time where men will give you very little power. Keeping with the darker tone, it becomes apparent how cruelly the Elves are being treated, how oppressed their race is and how they too suffer under the hands of tyrant leaders. Once again, Sullivan plays with old-school high fantasy elements and shapes them in compelling ways. I love prophecies, watching them unfold and seeing the myriad of ways they can be twisted and interpreted is a pure joy for me. I also love the Chosen One trope and Sullivan portrays both so well. The Protector of the Heir is revealed early on in this novel but much about the Heir himself remains a highly guarded mystery. Our meddling wizard Esrahaddon seems to hold the answers, foretelling of further significant events yet to come but we now see other figures have their own theories too. Puzzling out what is real and what could possibly be fake is what makes Sullivan’s novels so engaging. Expanding upon the world, the Art, and the political factions Sullivan weaves a web all our main players are tangled up in and we desperately hope they can make it out unscathed. Rise of Empire delivers a sequel where the plot tremendously thickens. The post RISE OF EMPIRE by Michael J. Sullivan (BOOK REVIEW) appeared first on The Fantasy Hive. View the full article -
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Tale As Old As Time
Musicians in The Cobblestone, Dublin, Ireland by Giuseppe Milo Recently I had the good fortune to listen to traditional live music at a bar in Dublin, Ireland. The fiddlers were in fine form and the whole bar was tapping along to the beat, myself included, although I didn’t recognize a single song being played. But then the leader of the band struck up a tune I was sure I knew, even though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. And suddenly and all at once, the way illumination often strikes, it came into focus — the band was playing Someone’s in the Kitchen with Dinah. Positive I was going crazy, I glanced around for confirmation. The older gentleman next to me leaned in. “From Ireland to Appalachia and back again,” he confirmed. This happened time and again on my trip. A street busker’s howling harmonica opening, twisty and dark, turned into a gorgeous rendition of Valerie. Rhythmic tapping on a guitar case opened a moody version of If I Go, I’m Goin. Everywhere I turned, it seemed, the Irish were taking my favorite songs and making them their own. And each time, the transformation hooked me viscerally with recognition and delight. I feel the same way, it turns out, about story retellings. There’s something inexplicably captivating about diving into a new work and recognizing an old friend beneath its surface. And clearly I’m not the only one who feels that way: Witness the success of stories like Madeline Miller’s Circe and Song of Achilles, Naomi Novik’s refreshed Rumpelstiltskin in Spinning Silver, and Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead, a retelling of David Copperfield. I’ve done a lot of thinking about retellings, in part because my latest book Darling Girl is one. For what it’s worth, here are my thoughts on what to keep in mind if you’re attempting this literary feat. Some pros and cons of doing a retelling: Depending on the story, a retelling may be considered ‘higher concept’ which can make it easier for marketing teams to get a hook into how to position the story. And news of the book can spread easily through word of mouth. The flip side of that, of course, is that readers may not take kindly to a novel that messes with a beloved tale. So it’s important to understand how a retelling can pull a reader in, and why. The pull of the familiar … There’s something comforting about sinking into a story we know well, a story we’ve heard or read so often it is a part of our bones. Especially with fairytales or novels we’ve studied in school, turning to an old but updated classic allows us to return to a period when the world felt easier, or perhaps more joyous, to recapture the magic we used to feel when someone uttered those transporting words ‘once upon a time…’ The lure of the new… At the same time, retellings also offer us the thrill of something different. There’s a certain enjoyment in thinking we know exactly what will happen, only to be surprised by a twist in the plot or a turn in a character’s development. The question then becomes, what can you as a writer bring to the familiar story that’s fresh? For me as a writer, that means starting with a story I’m passionate about as a reader and have already wondered about. How might it have ended if the main character had had a different set of circumstances to choose from? What happened before the story captured on the page to create this particular configuration of events? What might have occurred after the last page was turned and the book shut? Where is there space for me to imagine this story from another angle or point of view? For example, author Natasha Bowen uses West African mythology in her novel Skin of the Sea to retell a fairytale — The Little Mermaid — more familiarly associated with the Eurocentric tradition. In The Witch’s Heart, author Genevieve Gornichec focuses on a minor character in Norse mythology — Angrboda, one of Loki’s wives — to create a new viewpoint from which to explain and witness Ragnarok, the Norse end of days. And in the very dark retelling Snow, Glass, Apple, Neil Gaiman takes the basic tenets of the origin Snow White — a princess in a coffin who does not age — and goes somewhere so brilliant and yet so obvious you’ll wonder how you never saw it before. It’s all a matter of perspective. Once you’ve found your story, the skill rests in finding the right balance — the fulcrum between shiny new story and beloved old tale. In my opinion, that doesn’t necessarily mean you need a character-to character correlation. Rather, if you are true to the story’s essence, you can give readers just enough glimpses of the old that they can find their way through the undergrowth of the new — the same way the Irish song in the pub had just enough of the original notes for me to recognize its homage. In A Court of Thorn and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, you may have to squint to see Beauty and the Beast, but its shadows are there. Remember, too, that fairytales and myths have been around so long not just because they are entertaining, but because they tell a universal truth. Don’t stray from the path. Stay out of the woods. Kindness and hard work will be rewarded. Love conquers all. So be aware of your origin story’s center, yes, but don’t be afraid to turn it on its head, blow it up, make it your own. Hum a few bars and we’ll try and recognize it. This is your story now. Now it’s your turn. What do you think drives the current craze for retellings? What makes a great one? And what are some of your favorites? Please share in the comments below. [url={url}]View the full article[/url] -
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20 Horror Novels to Look Out for in 2023
This year brings far too many good horror novels to list them all by name, but here are a few that I’m looking forward to, and that capture a wide variety of takes on the genre at a time when horror fiction is undergoing somewhat of a renaissance. Strongly represented in the following offerings are haunted buildings of various kinds, from houses to hotels to luxury apartment buildings, along with plenty of authors blending historical and horror. Other than that, it’s hard to spot trends, other than compelling narratives and innovative use of genre conventions. Enjoy! Juan Martinez, Extended Stay (University of Arizona Press, January 17) El Norte meets Barton Fink in this hotel horror. Two siblings flee from Colombia to the United States and end up at a dingy hotel in Las Vegas where strange figures lurk in the corridors and monsters feed off of the sorrow of the most vulnerable. What follows is both a brilliant horror novel and a sharp critique of capitalism and exploitation. Alison Rumfitt, Tell Me I’m Worthless (Tor Nightfire, January 17) In this intense haunted house story, three girls spend a night in a property cursed by the hatred and violence of those who first occupied its grounds. One is trapped in the house forever, and the other two barely escape, the house’s dark powers having revealed both their vulnerabilities and hatreds to each other. Rumfitt uses body horror and the tropes of the haunted house skillfully to explore the trans experience in an England full of terfs, and Tell Me I’m Worthless contains a strong anti-fascist message for a nation beset by growing prejudices. Grady Hendrix, How to Sell a Haunted House (Berkley, January 17) I am not exaggerating when I say that Grady Hendrix’s Paperbacks from Hell newsletter saved me from losing my sense of humor during the pandemic. His hilarious, metatextual horror fiction is absurdly entertaining, and his new novel, How to Sell a Haunted House, promises to skewer the tropes of hauntings while paying homage to a long history of supernaturally possessed homes. And in a country beset by widely aging housing stock, this book is probably more practical than any of us would like to admit. Johnny Compton, Spite House (Tor Nightfire, February 7) Eric Ross and his two daughters are on the run and looking to settle down somewhere where they won’t be too scrutinized. Enter the Spite House, a haunted house on a hill overlooking an abandoned orphanage, whose owner is looking for a new caretaker to help prove definitely that the house is occupied by ghosts. If Eric can stay in the house long enough to get proof of paranormal activity, he and his daughters will receive enough funds to go completely off the grid. But given the home’s propensity to rob its previous caretakers of their sanity, it’s a toss-up—will Eric find safety for his family, or has he placed them in more danger than ever before? Another great entry into the horror revival, and one of several gothic works on this list by Black authors. Stephen Graham Jones, Don’t Fear the Reaper (Saga, February 7) Stephen Graham Jones blew me away with the first in his Indian Lake trilogy, My Heart is a Chainsaw, and Don’t Fear the Reaper is, if you can believe it, even better than the first! Jade is back, now in her 20s, as a killer and a snowstorm converge on the town of Proofrock and another massacre looms. Can Jade stop the serial killer Dark Mill South before he finishes taking vengeance for 38 Lakota men killed in the 19th century? The fast-paced novel takes place over only a day and a half, and you’ll want to read it just as quickly. Mariana Enriquez, Our Share of Night (Hogarth, February 7) What a strange and luminous novel. Mariana Enriquez stunned with her collection The Dangers of Smoking in Bed, and Our Share of Night is just as fantastic (and fantastical). Beginning in Argentina in the years of the dictatorship, Our Share of Night follows a father and son on a grief-driven road trip as they mourn the loss of the woman who united them, her dangerous (and possibly immortal) family close in pursuit. A dark vampiric noir that heralds a new era in South American horror. Cherie Dimaline, VenCo (William Morrow, February 7) If you loved the third season of American Horror Story, or just rode the wave of new witch books out this past year, then VenCo is for you! A millennial Metis woman finds a tarnished silver spoon in her wall that allows her to access indigenous magic and connects her to a host of witches hiding in plain sight. Trang Thanh Tran, She Is a Haunting (Bloomsbury, February 28) So many good haunted houses out this year. This one has a fantastic setup: in She Is a Haunting, a young woman goes to live at her father’s home in Vietnam before college, only to find her family being devoured by the colonialism still hidden in the decaying estate’s walls. She Is a Haunting reads like Mexican Gothic meets Margurite Duras, for a haunting literary horror novel fully situated in its historical milieu. Also, in case the cover design didn’t warn you, there are bugs. Lots of bugs. Liselle Sambury, Delicious Monsters (Margaret H. McElderry, February 28) In the recent past, a girl who can see ghosts inherits a house that is haunted, then disappears. In the present, a girl who has a complicated relationship with her exploitative mother moves into a mansion with supposedly healing energy and a secretly sordid past. When she learns of her new home’s history, Sambury’s protagonist starts to delve into the home’s crimes against its previous residents for her investigative podcast, and hopefully bring down her mother’s self-help empire. Gerardo Sámano Córdova, Monstrilio (Zando, March 7) Part of a new wave of haunted house horror that continues to expand and redefine the genre, Monstrilio is about a woman who creates a monster from a piece of her dead son’s lung, feeding it bloody sacrifices as it grows into the image of her long-gone child. Her monstrilio is loved, cared for, and wholly monstrous. But are not the monsters among us also capable (and deserving) of love? Read this if you liked Sarah Gailey’s Just Like Home! Cynthia Pelayo, The Shoemaker’s Magician (Agora, March 21) In the second book of Pelayo’s Chicago Saga, an old movie palace and an icon of horror film culture may be the keys to solving a gruesome new homicide. Pelayo brings out the city’s gothic culture with loving care and plots an invigorating mystery with compelling characters. –DM Victor LaValle, Lone Women (One World, March 28) Adelaide Henry is the last of her line, burdened with a curse that she lugs across half the continental United States from warm California to freezing Montana. There, she finds friendship, companionship, and a fresh start, but will she be able to control whatever lurks in her strangely heavy steam-trunk? Lone Women is a searing and unsettling mixture of historical detail, western imagery, and terrifying twists and turns, from an author who continues to reinvent horror with every page. V. Castro, The Haunting of Alejandra (Del Rey, April 18) V. Castro’s heroine is haunted by the spirit of La Llorena—or, at least, an ancient evil that has found a way to embody a folk legend. She must go to a curandera and process her personal and generational trauma before she can even hope to be free of the demon possessing her, in what also functions as a perfect metaphor for clearing the fog of depression and seeing the societal structures and history that contribute to our present-day malaise. Andrew Sullivan, The Marigold (ECW, April 18) An evil apartment complex is the setting for this gentrification horror, complete with shoddy construction, rampant corruption, and a mold infestation that may have a mind of its own. The Marigold is a half-sold luxury apartment building; next to it are the foundations of the as-yet unbuilt Marigold II, where something monstrous lurks in the depths…A satirical take on luxury living that should evoke High Rise. Monica Brashears, House of Cotton (Flatiron, April 4) In this photography horror novel, Monica Brashears’ 19-year-old narrator is broke, working a dead-end job, and newly suffering the loss of her grandmother, the most important adult figure in her life, when she gets a strange offer from the owner of a funeral home: come model for him as he creates experiences for those who are having a hard time saying goodbye to the dead. What follows is a haunting and sly Southern Gothic with plenty of things to say about race, gender, and appropriation. Kayla Cottingham, This Delicious Death (Sourcebooks Fire, April 25) Years after a virus known as the Hollowing turns a subsection of the population into cannibals, the invention of synthetic organs have stabilized the survivors and allowed them to reintegrate into society. Four “Hollow” girls from SoCal are ready to party the summer before college and headed to a music festival in the desert, but once they arrive, they soon find out they’re not welcome, and may even be framed for murder. So yeah. Queer zombies at Burning Man. Otherwise known as the perfect set-up for a novel, or my future Halloween costume. Cassandra Khaw, The Salt Grows Heavy (Tor Nightfire, May 2) What if Ariel laid eggs and then her monstrous daughters laid waste to the entire kingdom? A mermaid, her daughters, and a plague doctor (the only creature spared in the massacre) go on a wintry journey in which they encounter a disturbing village that evokes the darkest of the original Grimm’s fairy tales. Khaw prose is visceral, disturbing and beautiful in equal measure. Tananarive Due, The Reformatory (Saga, June 27) Tananarive Due is one of the greatest living horror writers, and her new book blends her signature style with an exploration into a very personal trauma: Due’s great-uncle was one of many Black children harmed by the Florida reform school known as the Dozier School for Boys, and The Reformatory takes readers into the nightmare that was the school circa 1950. Sure to be as powerful as it is haunting. Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Silver Nitrate (Random House, July 18) Both of Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s parents worked in radio, so perhaps that’s part of the inspiration behind this bonkers ode to sound engineering and the (literal magical) power of the human voice. Silver Nitrate features a sound editor and a has-been actor as they befriend an elderly icon from the Golden Age of Mexican cinema, only to find themselves drawn into a vast conspiracy to harness the magic of the silver screen and bring an occult-obsessed Nazi back from the dead. This book has everything, and I could not recommend it enough! Isabel Canas, Vampires of El Norte (Berkley, August 29) I loved Isabel Canas’ lush, gothic debut, The Hacienda, and I’m psyched for her follow-up, set on the Texas-Mexico border during the 1840s, and featuring two childhood friends reunited in a battle against the undead. View the full article -
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The Best Nonfiction Crime Books of the Month
The CrimeReads editors select the month’s best new releases in nonfiction crime. * Ali Winston and Darwin Bondgraham, The Riders Come Out At Night (Atria) In this searing history of police violence and civil rights activism in Oakland, two longtime investigative journalists unpack the circumstances that led to Oakland’s massive amount of police shootings and other officer misconduct over the past half century. The book also goes into the many half-hearted attempts to hold officers accountable and curb their violent behaviors. Monumental and not to be missed! –MO Jeff Guinn, Waco: David Koresh, the Branch Davidians, and a Legacy of Rage (Simon & Schuster) As the 30th anniversary of the Waco siege approaches this February, there’s plenty to read about the subject, including Jeff Guinn’s authoritative new account of the events leading up to, including, and after the siege. Of particular fascination to me was the way Guinn takes us into the beliefs of the Branch Davidians in a way that connects them to the Great Awakening of the 1840s all the way through the growing issue of white supremacists today. –MO Jim Popkin, Code Name Blue Wren: The True Story of America’s Most Dangerous Female Spy—and the Sister She Betrayed (Hanover Square) This new account of the life and crimes of Ana Montes is timed to coincide with her January release from prison. Montes was a celebrated DIA analyst on a fast-track through the American intelligence community, when she was revealed to be a Cuban double agent. Popkin tells the story of her long-running operation, with special emphasis on her family’s connections to the FBI and American military. –DM James Bamford, Spyfail: Foreign Spies, Moles, Saboteurs, and the Collapse of America’s Counterintelligence (Twelve) Bamford’s latest is a provocative account of massive and ongoing foreign espionage inside the U.S. Counterespionage failures take center stage, and soon the larger systemic inadequacies are exposed, revealing an unnerving look at modern America’s preparedness (or lack thereof) to deal with foreign agents hungry for the country’s technological and military secrets. –DM View the full article -
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Friday Speak Out!: This Is How It Begins
By Donnaldson Brown People sometimes ask if my past experience in screenwriting has influenced how I write fiction. I mumble something vague about dialogue conveying character, or something slightly less vague about finding the beat a scene needs to move the story forward. That’s all true. Recently, though, I realized that everything I’ve written – the essays and fiction that have seen the light of day, and the stories, screenplays, and abandoned play stacked on my shelves or digitized on thumb drives huddling in my desk drawer – all started with an image, that rolled into another, of characters demanding my attention. Sometimes they drop me in the middle of whatever is captivating or troubling them. Occasionally, they’ll let me in in the beginning. At some point, it becomes clear they’ve tapped me to tell their story and they’re not going away. My husband was a painter and sculptor, and among my siblings are an architect, a designer, a photographer and a builder. In contrast, I suppose, I never considered myself visually inclined. My medium was words. Realizing that all my stories begin and evolve through very detailed visualizations of characters and the settings they inhabit, took me by surprise. For instance, one day a teenager galloping hard across the Texas chaparral on her grey mare streamed into my consciousness. I tried to ignore her, as they kept running, sweat lathering the mare’s neck. What was she running from? Where was she headed? I couldn’t abandon them – not with that bank of clouds, dark as a bruise, moving in from the west. Suddenly, a boy, about her age, lands inside a sprawling brick ranch house. The screen door slaps shut behind him. He is drenched. And angry. Who’s this? Floundering at first, I wonder are they connected? Yes. Yes, they are. How? And there you have it. We’re off to the races. Their story unfurled into Because I Loved You. Stray characters don’t often approach me like this, practically waving their arms. So, when they do, I pay attention. I’ll start a journal for them, to find their words, their private thoughts, be they petty or lofty. Journaling brings out their worries and desires, which inevitably leads to other characters in their story, and to their inner monologue, which then leads to dialogue. When Leni and Cal came to me, I didn’t think I had enough words in me to write a novel. But they led the way. I’m thankful for the characters who plant themselves before me and take root. Invariably, I fall in love with them. Giving them voice is a privilege and a duty, sometimes my reason to wake up in the morning. I listen as closely as I can, to find the best way to tell their story: what point of view to use, what tense, will there be flashbacks. Sometimes they leave breadcrumbs. Sometimes it’s just trial and error, draft after draft. I keep at it, though. Because I don’t want to let them down. * * * After thirty-six years of being a high-risk labor and delivery nurse, over twenty years of it DONNALDSON BROWN grew up riding horses on her uncles’ ranch in East Texas and in her hometown in Connecticut. Her debut novel, BECAUSE I LOVED YOU, is due out in April 2023 with She Writes Press. She is a former screenwriter and worked for several years with Robert Redford's film development company. Her spoken word pieces have been featured in The Deep Listening Institute’s Writers in Performance and Women & Identity Festivals in New York City, and in the Made in the Berkshires Theatre Festival in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. She’s a past fellow of the Community of Writers (formerly Squaw Valley Community of Writers), Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, and Craigardan. Ms. Brown is a longtime resident of both Brooklyn, New York and western Massachusetts. A mother and former attorney, she is currently a facilitator and trainer with The Equus Effect, which offers somatic based experiential learning with horses for veterans, first responders and others struggling with PTSD. Find her online at donnaldsonbrown.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Would you like to participate in Friday "Speak Out!"? Email your short posts (under 500 words) about women and writing to: marcia[at]wow-womenonwriting[dot]com for consideration. We look forward to hearing from you! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (C) Copyright wow-womenonwriting.com Visit WOW! Women On Writing for lively interviews and how-tos. Check out WOW!'s Classroom and learn something new. Enter the Quarterly Writing Contests. Open Now![url={url}]View the full article[/url] -
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547. The HarperCollins Strike with Olga Brudastova, President of UAW 2110
This episode was recorded on Monday 23 January 2023. On Thursday, 26 January, the HarperCollins Union announced that HarperCollins has agreed to enter mediation. In this interview, I speak with UAW2110 President Olga Brudastova, and we go over the breakdown in negotiations that led to the HarperCollins Union strike, along with the demands of the union. Thank you to Barb, Bransler, Clay, Agnes, and Susan for the questions and to the Patreon community for the enthusiastic support and encouragement for this interview. Music: Purple-planet.com Listen to the podcast → Read the transcript → Here are the books we discuss in this podcast: Links? Oh yeah we have links! The HarperCollins Union on Twitter and Instagram – and their LinkTree The January 26 Press Release Donate to the Union Strike Fund The crappy PW article we mentioned United Auto Workers Chapter 2110 Scabby the Rat! (apologies – I called it Scabbers in the audio, but it’s Scabby) Why the HarperCollins Union is still on strike If you like the podcast, you can subscribe to our feed, or find us at iTunes. You can also find us on Stitcher, and Spotify, too. We also have a cool page for the podcast on iTunes. More ways to sponsor: Sponsor us through Patreon! (What is Patreon?) http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/WP/wp-content/themes/smartbitches/images/podcast/patreon.png What did you think of today's episode? Got ideas? Suggestions? You can talk to us on the blog entries for the podcast or talk to us on Facebook if that's where you hang out online. You can email us at sbjpodcast@gmail.com or you can call and leave us a message at our Google voice number: 201-371-3272. Please don't forget to give us a name and where you're calling from so we can work your message into an upcoming podcast. Thanks for listening! Remember to subscribe to our podcast feed, find us on iTunes or on Stitcher. View the full article -
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Algonkian Retreats and Workshops 2023 - Assignments
Seven Assignments 1. Story Statement A lifetime neglect of paternal responsibilities compels an ego-driven Glenn to make peace with his three daughters, who are unaware of their "half sisters" existence until they meet after his death. Marta, his platonic partner of 20 years, agrees to carry-out the plan at his eastern Montana ranch. In exchange, she will inherit his place. In letters to each daughter, he assures that his death will provide them a life of financial freedom. In addition to the money, the middle daughter sees an opportunity to break away from her mother and their commune life; the youngest obliges in obedience to the convent that raised her and as a possible path to independence; the oldest wants the payback and seeks a final vengeance. Upon arrival, they learn that their inheritance must be earned by reading the individual journals he has created for each daughter. He structures his language to hit the deepest wounds and then soothes with the allurance of the endless skies and vast prairies. A few characters also help him execute the final closure. Coupled with these are small events that produce questions of what they really know about themselves, their relationships and him. Marta plays along with Glenn’s game, but the experiences the women share affects the execution of Glenn’s plan and alters their dreams and desires. 2. Antagonist Character Sketch Glenn is a drifter who was obsessed with possessing women by tapping into their sexual desire. It is how his daughters were conceived. ( Clarification: He is not a rapist.) As he ages, he settles down on his isolated prairie ranch where he meets Marta, and their platonic relationship guarantees his chores will be done, animals cared for, and his food prepared. For years she assists him in his quest to continue to seduce women, but now they pay him for the privilege. He finds entertainment in operating as a mystic. For Marta, the truth is known but it benefits her to support him. His use of language and landscape to retrofit any hindering negative perceptions is consistently successful. He is a clever mechanic in that way. When he realizes that he has developed an incurable illness, he uses his pending death to beckon his three illegitimate daughters to his ranch where he will retrofit their histories to fit a narrative that makes him almighty again. Their presence and cooperation includes a cash value and pays significant rewards to “honor” their accomplishments. Glenn thrives in pushing his daughters to anger, wonder and heartache; his death protects him from consequence. He pits them against each other: One is his nemesis, the other his triumph, and the last, his humility. He wants to die the most clever man. But he has underestimated the universe--and Marta. 3. Three Titles The Sorrows of My Sister Bluestem, Needle Grass, and Sorrow Beyond the Cache and the Coulee 4. Two Comparable Works in Literary Genre Jack By Marilynne Robinson Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout 5. Hookline A dying grassland farmer and his Metis companion bribe his three estranged and unrelated daughters to his isolated spread for their inheritance, but he requires tasks that challenge their perceptions of self as daughters, sisters and lovers. 6. Inner Conflict Marta, a young Metis woman, meets the antagonist,Glenn, when he finds her severely beaten in an abandoned schoolhouse near his ranch. He leaves her at a hospital but she returns and trades her freedom for his safety and security. She uses her agrarian skills and cooking talents to assure her long term survival and a chance to inherit the ranch; they both agree to a platonic relationship. For years, she supports his sexual ventures with female scientists who come to his “Mystic Ranch” to be enlightened. He loves discussing these experiences with Marta, who because of years of abuse by local women, feels no compassion for them and relishes in his conquest. He admits to her that the “Mystic Ranch” is purely a longitudinal study of women scientists and sexual vulnerability. This gives her a sense of security: he will never marry, and she will never be a victim in his games. But when the his dying bed he decides to bring his three unrelated daughters to the ranch–two of whom she didn't know existed–to see their father and collect their inheritance, she rethinks her safety and security. She is terrified of their arrival, but needs to maintain a civility to please Glen: she needs the women to sign off on the will in order for her to keep the ranch. Other Conflict: Marta employs the neighbor Joe, a popular bachelor cowhand who rents a small house on a neighboring ranch, to help her retrieve the daughters from the train station when her wagoneer refuses to start. ( She also wants support but can’t express it to him.) On the 60 minute drive, they have intimate conversations about her relationship with Glenn, the loss she feels and her future. She dreams of having a future with Joe, but it is a guarded conversation. Marta is in love, but won’t express it and would never want Glenn to know. Shealso dismisses the practicality of them ever getting together because he “drinks too much”. She wants to be his special girl. He is an easy flirt and captures the attention of Glenn’s youngest two daughters who entertain his whimsical nature like younger sisters. Glenn’s oldest is more feisty and hard: She smokes, drinks, swears. She is angry and demanding. She wants an immediate ride out of the bleakness of her father’s stead when she gets her money. Joe sees her as a character full of flaws and he comments immediately about her being a fighting fighter. Marta is consumed with jealousy. She is a fighter, but she is kind and gentle. She is adventurous, but needs the security of the ranch. She wants Joe to love her, and so long as she is in her safe abode and on her soon-to-be 60 acres, he can see who she really is and will love her. She worries about what these three women will take from her.
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