Any Given Doomsday by Lori Handeland is written in a genre I've never dabbled in before. Oh, I watched Buffy a few times, but wasn't an avid fan. I did watch quite a bit of Charmed when I lived alone and had nothing else to do on a Sunday evening. And I do watch Ghost Whisperer. But I've never felt drawn to reading the vamp/paranormal genre. And I'm still not sure I am, but I will look for the further adventures of Elizabeth Phoenix in Doomsday Can Wait when it comes out in May 2009.

Phoenix is one busy psychic, empathic, dream-walking, shape-shifting chickie! Sheesh!

After the first few chapters I had to put the book down and go do some vacuuming. I felt like I was reading "Gilmore Girls Go Vamp." My head was spinning. The dialogue is fast, furious, and smart-ass. It took me awhile to settle into it, but as I read more it went easier. I do, however, feel that there were things in those first few frenetic chapters that may have been short-changed by the author's eagerness to dive into the genre style. They felt overdone to get that style across, pushed and losing a bit in really drawing Elizabeth Phoenix more clearly for the reader.

I really didn't "get" Phoenix until she was faced with Sawyer. Sawyer was drawn far more clearly, and because he was, Phoenix's interaction with him gave her more depth.

But I get the idea that this genre is not necessarily character driven, but action driven. I get that. "Any Given Doomsday" certainly fills that bill well and why I will look for the next installment of vampires, chindi, stregas, witches, etc. doing their darnedest to put our heroine out of commission.

But I still would like more character. I'm hoping the sequel will give us more insight into Elizabeth Phoenix.

http://www.lorihandeland.com/

The Sitting Swing: Finding Wisdom to Know the Difference by Irene Watson was a surprise for me. Watson, a psychologist, opens her self and tells the story of her own journey through co-dependency. Sitting Swing is not a handbook, self-help, or how-to, but, as Watson terms it, the story of how she learned she could rewrite the "script" of her past. We don't get jargon and pop-psychology terminology, but walk alongside a soul in pain that had been walled into her own self-made barricade of coping mechanisms.

Watson attended a 28 day workshop at Avalon, a center for Recovery. Not being an addict herself, she wondered why she was there. This was clearly a 12-step program, the sort with which she was very familiar, as a psychologist. She began her stay by applying what she was hearing to her clients, but not seeing how they applied to the problem - her troubled marriage - that she told herself she was there for. Instead, she was brought face to face with her own co-dependency.

As an eternally recovering co-dependent myself, one who has worked the 12 Steps, been to therapy, read, meditated, journaled, searched, wept in self-mourning, and in the joy of opening to blissful surrender, I totally empathized with Ms. Watson through a great deal of her journey. It was both like and totally unlike my own.

My only problem with the book is that it only hints at the fact that the re-writing of one's script does not end with one blissful surrender. It takes continual surrender and continual work. There are, actually, many, many great "Aha!" moments. This could be deceptive to a newbie on their journey.

It is a well-written book, interweaving her journey at Avalon with her journey through her past. It is very compelling reading.

http://irenewatson.com/
Book Trailer

Excuses, Excuses...

Yeah, I haven't posted anything yet about my Canada trip. Weelll. It's been a hectic two weeks at work since I got back. The church where I work has called a new Pastor to serve it who will be coming on early October. I had to play catch up - it's amazing what can go on in one week! I had to read and review an Advanced Reader Copy of a new Harper Collins book. (That should follow this post, I hope.) Annnnd, the Old Goober and I decided one week in Canada wasn't enough, so we're going back! Wooohooo! We're leaving August 30th. Soooo, that means all the prep at work before I leave. *sigh*

So when I get back from that trip I'll have one big whopper of a post - pics and all! For a preview, though, you can see my current Canada pics HERE.

Sweetsmoke

I came home from my vacation in Canada to find my Advanced Reader Copy from Hyperion of David Fuller's debut novel, Sweetsmoke. Ooo, a new book to read! I settled into reading this story of Cassius, a slave cum detective, on Hoke Howard's tobacco plantation, Sweetsmoke, in Civil War Virginia. I love historical fiction and a story told from a slave's POV intrigued me, add a detective story and, boy, I was looking forward to this book.

Cassius is a well-drawn, multi-dimensional character and I immediately felt drawn into his world. However, if I hadn't known I was going to review the book, I may have set it back on the shelf for another look-see another time after the first 10 pages or so. We are completely in Cassius' head for the beginning of the book. Very little happens but description and backstory. Beautiful, minute attention is given to setting detail, but after awhile I began to get annoyed and was ready to flip past another 20 pages of the stuff to get to the action. I stuck with it and was ultimately glad I did. Once we move into dialogue and the story unfolds, Sweetsmoke becomes a more engaging book.

Perhaps if I wasn't a writer and have beaten myself over the head about "show, don't tell," I wouldn't be quite as critical about this. However, if you have a good story, which Fuller definitely does have, it is worth doing well.

I also found Fuller's device of using quotation marks for only the white folks dialogue confusing. I recently read Those Who Save Us by Jenna Blum. Blum used no quotation marks at all, and while that was an initial jolt, it later felt more comfortable and I could understand her reasoning in doing so. It depersonalized or distanced some very difficult material. If Fuller's reasoning was to emphasize the boundaries between whites and blacks through culture and language, I can understand. However, it became a distraction rather than an addition to the flow of the novel. Perhaps it would have been enough to have no quotation marks in black-only dialogue. I don't know. A device like this should add something that the story may not directly imply. Fuller, however, shows us the boundaries quite well through his narrative and dialogue. It's like he felt his writing wasn't enough to make the distinctions.

Cassius caught in the middle of battle was riveting! I was right there with him, heart pounding, eager and, yet, paralyzed with fear for what might come next.

I would recommend Sweetsmoke to a friend with the caveat that it will get better after the first 30 or so pages.

Fish Dreams

That's me last year - the one with the hat and the sunglasses. On August 1st the Old Goober and I will be heading on up north to Keystone Lodge once again. One week of the freshest air, cleanest water, peaceful evenings, friendliest people and FISH! Throw in eagles and osprey soaring overhead, the eerily vocal loons on the water, beaver slapping their tales in the water across the bay from the camp, and the camp dogs nudging a knee for an ear scratch now and then and, well, we won't want to go home. A bottle of Alexander Keith's India Pale Ale in the evening ain't bad either.

And I swear the sky is even bluer up there.

This year I will have my very own camera! Woohoo! So, I'm hoping for some really good pics. Hoping. Hoping that it will be good weather. There's been quite a bit of rain up there this last month.

I've been checking my clothing and food lists and the Old Goober is going over all the fishing gear to see what's needed.

Our one week of heaven for the year. *sigh*

I can't wait.

Sunday Morning Bumming

Bummer. The used book store is only open 8-5, M-Sat. No evenings, no Sundays. Rats. Phooey, even. And no website either. What are they thinking??? I am utterly bummed.

We did, however, stroll over to Petersen Park and take a gander at the car show they are holding there for Fiesta Days. I didn't see a 1970 Mercury Montego. I keep looking. That muscle car was my dad's baby. He called it his "Isotta Fraschini," his bow to luxury. I remember the ride of that car. It was indeed luxurious - quiet, smooth and the leather interior was sumptuous. We drove to Long Lac, ON, Canada in that car and loved every minute of the ride.

It also had the longest nose believable. Really. People would laugh today and call it ugly, but it wasn't then. Not at all. And who cared with such a ride?

I also keep looking for a 1959 Ford Galaxie, four door - another family car. You see mostly Fairlanes. The Old Goober looks for a 1964. That was his first car. He says he'd buy it on the spot. Hah! What the heck would he do with it, I wonder. Certainly not drive it with gas at $4.25 a gallon. I just enjoy looking and reminiscing - owning is definitely not an option.

So it turned out to be a lovely morning stroll amid automotive memories.

But I'm still bummed about the bookstore. Really. Bummed.

My Wordle

So. Betty scrunches up her face and squints sideways
at the Wordle.

What's that do for ya?

**click on the thumbnail to enlarge.