Lovely Death (a book review post)

The worst thing, if you can call it a "worst" thing, about Brandon Meyers and Bryan Pedas (from A Beer for the Shower) is that their volume output exceeds my ability to keep up with it. Unless I want to just quit reading other authors for a while. I actually skipped over a few of their releases to go straight to this one so I could get to it closer to its release date since I was already way past on the others. I'm not sorry I did so. This is easily in the top three books I've read so far this year (Brave New World takes the #1 spot), so, see, it took an 80-year-old classic to beat it.

I hesitate to call Lovely Death a horror story although it does contain some horrific elements. I'd say it's closer to a psychological thriller with supernatural elements. More and more of them as you move along, but it's the psychological aspects that I found interesting. How does a man deal with guilt and what is that guilt even about? And what will people do for love? Even unhealthy love and even when they know it's unhealthy love.

The book has a lot of symbolism and recurring themes, like the car and the idea of "our song" (and what that song is). Some of these are internal, important only to the book itself (like the specific "our song" that's used); some are external, more indicative of people in general (like the car and its representation of freedom). Consistent use of symbols can be a difficult thing to do, and Meyers pulls it off much more than adequately.

Another difficulty in stories like this is consistent characterization, because you inevitably need someone to do something stupid, like go down into the basement, to move the plot forward. That's often the point where not only does the audience yell, "Don't go into the woods!" but "She would never have done that!" There are none of those problems in Lovely Death. The characters are believable and consistent. It was... refreshing.

The book's greatest strength is that it's not conventional. I'm not going to use words like "unique," here, but the approach was not one I've seen before. It causes a "What's going on here?" reaction that will pull you in. Unfortunately, the book's greatest weakness is it's rather conventional ending. The kind of ending that you'd expect in a movie, which, granted, is probably the kind of ending most people want. However, because the beginning of the book strayed so far from the norm, I was hoping for an non-traditional ending. None of that is to say that I didn't like the ending; I did. It's just the ending I expected and hoped against. Well, except for one dangling plot thread that makes me wonder if there are plans to do more with this. I suppose I will just have to wait and see on that front.

I suppose I should mention the editing, since I always do, but it almost seems superfluous to mention it when I'm dealing with products from Pedas and Meyers. Other than a philosophical difference about a particular type of comma usage, the editing in Lovely Death couldn't really be better. There was one thing somewhere near the end, a missing word or something. I've read more "professionally edited" books than I can keep track of that had errors on every page, every page!, so one dropped word in a 300+ page book is hardly worth mentioning. I hear you wondering why I'm mentioning it, then, which is because I'm pointing out how spectacular the job is.

If you like supernatural, scary, horror, psychological, thriller type stuff, this is a book you should check out.

Oh, I should mention: The cover was done by Bryan Pedas who also did the cover for my new thing

"What Time Is the Tea Kettle?" You should go pick up both books today!

What Time Is the Tea Kettle?

"What Time Is the Tea Kettle?"

So I'm not much into promotion, even self-promotion; however, when I have a new product out, I figure I ought to at least mention it. Speaking of which, my new thing is out! Actually, it's two things. Two novelettes about the same character and his cat. I posted an excerpt from it quite a while back on a different site, so I'll give you that same taste in a moment. I'd call this new story whimsical. Definitely offbeat.

Bryan Pedas, from A Beer for the Shower, put together the spectacular cover, and I think he captured the feel of the story pretty well. He called it "absurdist" rather in the same vein as Carroll's Wonderland. Did you know that there's no real category for that? Well, there's not.

Briane Pagel, who also got an early look, said it's "perfect."

And my students, who also got to hear the excerpt, can't wait to find out what happens to Jeffry and what's up with the tea kettle.

I'm just going to say it: If you've liked anything I've written, this is one you should read.

PLUS! Not only do you get "What Time Is the Tea Kettle?" but you also get "Soul Cakes"! A second novelette featuring Jeffry and his owner. That's two for the price of one! Seriously, go pick up your copy, read it, love it, and leave a review!

Just to help you on the way, here is a bit of "What Time Is the Tea Kettle?"

The red tea kettle was blocking my view of the clock. It kept doing that. I sighed as I rolled over and sat up in bed. It was new and hadn't yet learned its place, so I picked it up by the handle and carried it out of the bedroom, down the darkened hall, and into the kitchen, only once stepping on one of the cat's toys, quite an accomplishment. I flicked the little stove light on and set the kettle on the counter.

What time was it again? That was when I realized that I'd forgotten to check the time after I picked up the kettle, so I glanced at the stove clock in the dim light of the kitchen to find it blocked by the red tea kettle, handle up so that I couldn't read the time. I glanced over to the counter top where I was sure I had just set it, but, yes, it was not there. I sighed again, shook my head slightly, and picked the tea kettle back up, looking for somewhere else to set it. It needed a place, its own place, to be. Maybe, then, it would quit wandering around.

I could put it in a cupboard, but that would just be inconvenient, having to get it in and out all of the time. I wanted it to live on the stove but on the burner where it wouldn't block the clock.

Oh! The clock. I wanted to know the time. I looked over at the clock, and there was the tea kettle again. Hadn't it just been in my hand? I was sure I hadn't set it down.

I reached for it again, but, at that moment, the cat floated by, ghostlike, doing whatever it is that cats do at night. He brushed my cheek with his tail as he lightly pressed one paw onto my shoulder as he passed by. Looking for flying bugs, I supposed.

His sudden spring to the ceiling almost caught me by surprise, and I saw him going for the spider in the corner where the ceiling met both walls on that side of the dining room that adjoined the kitchen.

“Geoffrey!”

The cat stiffened, caught in the act, but he couldn't stop like he would have been able to if he'd been on the floor. He looked back over his shoulder at me and “mew”ed just as he collided with the ceiling and bounced to the wall, grabbing hold with his claws.

The spider scurried into the crack where the two pieces of trim met. I could see him peeking out but was too far away to hear the cursing that I was sure was happening. Spiders like very much to curse. Most of them, anyway. Tarantulas are above that sort of thing. Or so they say.

The cat arched his back and, then, marched down the wall studiously ignoring me as I scolded him, “Geoffrey, what have I told you about the spiders? We leave the spiders alone. Spiders are good.” I spoke slowly and distinctly, as if he was hard of hearing, which, honestly, at that moment, he was.

When he got close enough, he leaped from the wall to the dining table and sat like the puff of smoke he had originally been named for.

I sighed and shook my head at the cat, thinking back to the small, gray puffball he'd been when he'd shown up on my doorstep. Like a puff of smoke when you blow out a match or a candle. All except for the toes on his front paws, which were white. I had determined to call him Smoke and actually had for a number of weeks.

Until my nephew came to visit.

He's my sister's kid. We don't ever see each other, my sister and me, unless she needs something. That particular day, she had needed me to babysit, her usual reason for seeing me, so she had dropped my nephew off at an obscene hour on a Saturday morning. A time when normal people are still sleeping. My nephew came in asking, “What's for lunch?”

I told him it was too early for lunch, to which he replied, “Actually, it's late for lunch. At school, it's already nap time.”

I grumbled and went to grub around in the kitchen and look for food.

He met the cat while I was trying to find slices of leftover pizza that I could pick enough of the mushrooms off of that it would convince him to pretend they weren't really there to begin with.

“Warm or cold?” I shouted out into the room with the TV that only worked three days a week.

“Cold's fine.”

“It's going to the table, then. Why don't you bring Smoke, and you can feed him some treats while we're eating.”

That's the great thing about pizza: I was about to have it for breakfast, and my nephew was having it for lunch, and we were both perfectly satisfied that all was right with the world with that arrangement.

He plopped the kitten down on the table in much the same spot as he was currently sitting and eyeing me sullenly for the scolding.

As I dropped several cat treats into the boy's hand, he said, “Why do you call him Smoke?”

“That's his name.”

“No, it's not.” He said it very matter-of-factly, very like when he had said, “At school, it's already nap time.”

That was annoying. I wasn't even awake yet. No pizza. No coffee. And less than four hours of sleep. “Yes, it is. I named him that.”

He looked at the cat, held out the hand with the treats, and cocked his head slightly as the cat took one and sat down with it.

“He says he already has a name, and he doesn't like Smoke.”

“What's wrong with Smoke?”

The boy shrugged, “I don't know. He says he doesn't like it.”

“Why didn't he tell me, then?” I raised one eyebrow at the kid, thinking I'd won.

He glanced back at the kitten and offered him another treat. The pizza, his slice and mine, was just sitting there on our plates waiting to be eaten, making me cranky, while my nephew chastised me on behalf of the ball of fur that looked like it was about to drift away.

“He says he did tell you. He says you don't listen.”

“I do, too, listen.” I crossed my arms, thinking back, trying to figure out if I'd been listening. I wasn't sure, and that made me more cranky, because the kid might be right.

“If you listened, you'd know his name is Jeffry.”

“Jeffry?” I blinked, stared at the kid, and picked up my slice of pizza. Just to make a statement by doing it. “What kind of name is Jeffry for a cat?”

The small shoulders of the boy shrugged as he took a bite of his pizza, “I don't know. I just know that's his name.”

I waved my pizza in the air, “I like Smoke better.”

With his mouth stuffed, barely comprehensible, he replied, “He doesn't like Smoke.”

“So. He's my cat.” I obstinately took a bite of my pizza.

The cat made a cat noise, not quite a meow, that I didn't catch. I should have, but it sounded jumbled.

After a moment of chewing, the boy said, “Jeffry says he'll call you Bob.”

“But my name's not...” I ripped a big hunk of pizza off with my teeth and sent it spluttering everywhere as I said, “Fine!” After I swallowed, I added, “Geoffrey, it is.” Internally, I smiled, knowing that neither of them could spell so couldn't tell that I had given the cat a name I wanted to give him anyway.

As the cat sat on the table and stared at me, I wasn't entirely sure he hadn't known all along. Cats always look like they have secrets, even when they don't. Who knows what was going on in that cat's head.

I saw the spider creeping back out of the crack in the ceiling, and I glanced up at it, “You leave that spider alone.”

The cat stood up, turned, and lifted its tail to me as it hopped off of the table, drifting off through the house but near the floor this time.

I stood there a moment in the arbitrary division between the kitchen and dining room completely unaware of what I was doing. Why I was up. What time it even was.

Oh! The time! I turned back to the stove, and there was the red tea kettle again blocking the clock. I grabbed the tea kettle and jerked it from the stove. 1:16 glowed dimly in green on the little panel on the back of the stove where the knobs are, and I stood there staring at the readout. I didn't even remember why I'd wanted to know what time it was. Or why I was awake...

Why was I awake? Something had woken me up. That's why I had been trying to look at the time. Oh, well. I had no idea what it was, if I had ever known at all. What I did know is that I was going back to bed.

I sighed and raised the red tea kettle up to eye level, “But what do I do with you?” I yawned, shook my head, and set the tea pot back down on the stove. I'd figure it out later.

Something funny happened on the way to the forum...

Okay, well, I was going to say it wasn't actually a forum, but, technically, it is. Well, it's supposed to be, because the definition of forum includes "place for open discussion" (stress is mine), but this was clearly not such a place. It was just supposed to be.
And what happened definitely wasn't funny. Except, well, it kind of is; it just also made me really angry. Who says there's not humor in anger?

Let me explain. All back story is so that you will understand the surrealism of the actual event.

Several months ago, I was invited to join an authors' group on facebook. Against my will. Let me re-phrase that: I was added to an authors' group after I told the person that added me that I did not want him to. The group was the Author's Think Tank. I didn't want to be added, because he just wanted me in there so that he could flame me as he had already done in that forum once before and on his page once before and who knows where else. All of this was over a bad review. This incident where he added me was many, many weeks after the initial review, but I had posted about reviews, and, for whatever reason, he took my post about my view on reviews as a personal attack and added me to the authors' group so that I could see the "discussion" that was going on about reviews.

Mostly, that discussion included a lot of people calling me names, the most popular of which was "douche bag," because only a douche bag would leave someone a bad review. Or something like that. [If you want to go back and read the posts about reviews, they are here and here.] I want to point out that at no time during this thread of calling me names did anyone ever say anything about it. No said that the Think Tank was not a place for being negative; no told anyone to stop behaving in the manner they were behaving; no one took the thread down. It was, you know, "all good." And, honestly, everyone is entitled to their opinion. I have mine regarding the leaving of reviews, and that's that being honest about the review is the way to go. [But, then, really, if you want to know more, you should go back and read those two posts.]

Just to be clear, I did not get involved in that "discussion." In fact, I didn't say anything at all in there for a couple of weeks. I almost removed myself from the group, but I didn't. I mean, it was a group of 500 other authors, so I figured it might be worthwhile to stay. It really wasn't, not for me. Mostly, it was a bunch of people asking things like, "What's the difference between 'lay' and 'lie'? I can't figure it out," and watching people argue over it and coming to no conclusion. That's why you look things up.

Needless to say, I didn't say a whole lot in the group other than, occasionally, answering someone's question about something or pointing them at a source if no one else had responded. That and posting links to what I felt were applicable blog posts and links for when my Shadow Spinner pieces were available. In that sense, I did get a benefit from being in the group, because I know there were some people downloading my pieces.

All of that changed last week when I was unceremoniously kicked out of the group. Not just kicked out but not even notified. I just hopped onto facebook, and the link to the group was missing from my groups. I thought it was a facebook problem. At first. But, wait! Let's go back...

Here's what happened:
Someone posted something about how Stephanie Meyer had written Twilight with a screaming toddler in her lap while watching Barney, so, maybe, that was the way to go, because look at how awesome Twilight is. [I'm paraphrasing, but that is the gist of what she posted.]

I couldn't resist, so I responded with, "I don't know. I think Twilight screams Barney."
1. It was a joke.
2. I haven't read Twilight (and I don't intend to), so it was just a joke.
3. People thought it was funny and said things like, "I like Twilight, but I thought the Barney comment was funny."
4. I stated after several other comments that the comment had been meant just to be funny.

But here's where the problem started, I guess:
Some other guy stated that he didn't like Twilight and gave legitimate reasons as to why he does not.
[I want to add that this is what it means to be a forum: having an open discussion about something.]
A can of worms ensued and there was a huge back and forth between this guy and, well, I lost count, a lot of women about the merits of Twilight. Evidently, he was a bad person for saying he didn't like Twilight.

He and I were kicked out of the group for being "negative," and the thread was taken down. Neither of us was informed of what was going on. In fact, as I said, I thought there was some problem with facebook for about half a day, then I asked in another group that has some overlapping members if anyone knew what was wrong with the Think Tank. It was fine for everyone else, and that's when I started asking around about what was going on.

Finally, there was an admission that I had been kicked out of the group, but the admins wouldn't say why. And, then, finally, someone who is friends with one of the admins was able to find out that it was because I was being "negative" and that <other guy> had also been kicked out for the same reason. So much for the idea of an open forum. Instead, what we have is a group of Meyer fascists where it's okay to call someone that's basically in the room lots of degrading and mean names, but it's not okay to say, "I don't like Twilight."

I find the whole thing just wrong. The whole situation makes me angry, because it is just wrong. It's screwed up. And the thing that angers me most is that everyone else was just okay with it. Not that it was advertised, but there was a thread brought up about it in the group as one person was trying to find out what happened. The response was definitely a "ah, well, tough luck for you" response. If I had been in the group and this had happened to someone else, I would have raised all kinds of hell over it and probably been kicked out to. BECAUSE IT'S WRONG BEHAVIOR. If one of my kids had behaved like this, there would be consequences and forced apologies, long discussions and reparations. Seriously, I'm not entitled to my own opinion? (Although it's perfectly okay for me to call someone IN THE GROUP a douche bag.)

And, as Bryan from A Beer for the Shower said to me about all of this, "If they can't take someone not liking their favorite book, imagine how they'll take it when they get a bad review for one of their own works." [paraphrase] No kidding.

Which brings us to our two hands:
On the one hand, I'm not upset about not being in a group that's run like this. If I had known, I wouldn't have participated in their little Meyercult to begin with. I would have left all on my own if this had happened to someone else and nothing was done about it.
On the other hand, it cuts off an avenue I had been using to promote my work, especially my Shadow Spinner serialization. Probably, it won't have any discernible impact, but I won't really know for a while. That part kind of sucks.

But the main thing about all of this is that the behavior is too indicative of a screwed up cultural mind set we have right now. A mind set that says it's not okay to express any opinion that says "I don't like that" or "That's not good." A mind set that says that is okay to actually be mean to someone that says something isn't good, but that's the only time it's okay to be "negative," because, for some screwed up reason, that's not being negative. And I'm not saying we should go out of our way to leave bad reviews or anything, but I do believe we shouldn't say something is great or awesome or whatever if it's not true, and I do think it ought to be okay to say "I don't like that" if we don't, especially if we actually have reasons for why we don't like it. And <other guy> had solid reasons why he doesn't like Twilight.

So that's my rant. I see the funny in it, but I'm too busy being outraged to laugh.

Let's Have a (Slim) Christmas Party

Today, I'm kind of double-booked. First, I'm taking part in Briane Pagel's

The Merry Christmas

To All

(e)Book A Day

Traveling Blogathon

(of Doom!)

There will be more of this

in relation to that

Also, today is the release party of

by the guys from A Beer for the Shower, and I'm supposed to be throwing a party for Slim for the release of his new book. I figure the best way to handle all of that is to combine the two events.

So we're gonna have a Christmas party for Slim and his book!
[Now, there are a bunch of rules for throwing this party, but I'm not gonna go through them all here. If you really want to know what they are, you can click this and go read them.]

The first thing you need for a Christmas party, a real Christmas party, is a Santa Claus, so that was the first order of business. I beat the pavement at the malls and shopping centers and found a few down on their luck Salvation Army Santa's that were more interested in the bottle than their collection buckets, if you know what I mean. I even recognized a couple of them from the local shelter where they would stumble into during other parts of the year. I'm pretty sure one of them didn't even work for the Salvation Army and only used his money for booze. I convinced them to show up at the park around noon on Saturday, figuring that at least one of them would make it.

Yeah, the party had to be on a Saturday, because on Saturdays the park is always full of jumpy houses from the birthday parties going on there. There's always at least three and, sometimes, a lot more. I figured with that many parties going on, big family parties and stuff with tons of extended family, that we could mingle amongst them, and no one would know which party we belonged to. Plus there would be plenty of food already laid out, and that would be a big bonus on only a $10.00 budget.

And, then, there's the pool. It's a nice heated pool there at the aquatic center on the other side of the park, not the kind of place that's likely to let in Slim and his homeless friends in any normal circumstance, but I figured I could catch the side gate at some point and block it open and really throw a party that Slim and his friends had never seen before.

It was a perfect plan and one that almost worked out perfectly.
I got not one but two Santa's, both with their Salvation Army buckets in tow. There were four jumpy houses. The people at the parties thought the Santa's were part of someone's celebration, and the kids swarmed them, eager to unload their Christmas lists. Who cared if the Santa's didn't exactly smell the best? And all the kids gave me the chance to unload them of their half full bottles of assorted spirits and their money buckets, not they had much in them, having already splurged on alcohol. Still, I managed to scrape together $6.38 from the two buckets, bringing my party money up to more than $16.00!

Slim and his friends started filtering in, and, sure enough, no one noticed them. At least, not for a while. I suppose the fact that they quickly took advantage of the jumpy houses while the kids were off seeing Santa clued a few of the adults into something being wrong, and I saw little groups of them start to whisper and point and shabby men bouncing around somewhat like fleas or lice. I gotta tell you, though, you're not likely to see a more amusing sight than 20 homeless, inebriated guys bouncing around in a couple of jumpy houses. It was so funny that it delayed anyone making any calls for at least 10 minutes. In fact, it wasn't until little Jimmy started complaining about the smell while he was trying to bounce that one of the parents finally had enough.

At that point, I thought it was time for a swim, so I propped the gate open and announced to the guys that it was time for the hot tub. You will have never seen such a sight as 25 homeless guys charging a swimming pool, half of them getting ready to go in in their own birthday suits and the other half viewing it as wash day. One of the Santa's dumped a lap full of kids onto the ground and started stripping out of his Santa suit. I gotta tell ya, those kids are gonna need some therapy when they grow up.

Slim had never dressed up as Santa before and, seeing the distress of the kids, he gathered up the costume as the buck naked Santa ran for the pool. You know, that Slim is certainly a nice guy to get dressed up as Santa at his very own party, and he sat right down there and started taking requests from kids while trying to tell them about his unfinished novel, Genghis Khan's Mongolian Starship.

But that's when all the trouble started. Not with Slim, with all of his party goers. The people working at the pool didn't appreciate the swarm of homeless, especially since the pool water went from crystal clear to a somewhat soupy mud color fairly quickly. Not to mention the number of naked men and the fact that several of them were hanging their now washed clothes up on the fence to dry. Those guys at the pool called the cops before you could say Jiminy.

I took that as a sign to get out of there, having kept my head by staying away from the punch I spiked with alcohol I liberated from the Santa's. Come to think of it, it was just Slim's friends that were doing the inebriated bounce in the jumpy houses. I suppose the parents just thought their kids had been doing a bit too much jumping and that that explained why they were walking funny and slurring their words.

Most all of Slims friends got arrested and held over night, but they still thought it was a swell party. They got to bounce around, get a heated bath, and get a free meal down at the station. The cops left Slim at the party, thinking he was, in fact, Santa Claus. Before he left, the parents made sure he took his collection bucket with him, which many of them had donated to, especially after he'd sat so patiently listening to all the children. Slim made out even better than I did: $87.42! But that Slim is a bit too generous, and he took the money and dumped in some other Santa's bucket after the police wouldn't let him bail his friends out of jail with it. But Slim had a pretty fine time, too; he told me so.

And now for the gift part, because I'm supposed to give Slim a gift for the release of his gift. So I'm gonna give to Slim the same thing I'm gonna give to you, and this is where it ties back in to the blogathon. Today only, today being Monday, December 17, I'm making "Christmas on the Corner"

FREE! one more time.
But that's not all! Today is also the release of

"Part Eleven: The Kiss" and that's FREE!
And, because I'm such a nice guy and I want you guys and Slim to have such a nice Christmas, I'm making all of these others FREE!, too:
"The Evil That Men Do"
"Part One: The Tunnel"
"Part Two: The Kitchen Table"
"Part Three: The Bedroom"
"Part Four: The Cop"
"Part Five: The Police Car"
"Part Ten: The Broken Window"
and
Charter Shorts!
That's a lot of FREE!

Also, I want to support Brandon and Bryan in their endeavor to get Slim out into the world, I'll give one lucky person that says "I want it!" in the comments a copy of The Sensationally Absurd Life and Times of Slim Dyson. They've been posting chapter segments about Slim on their blog for a while, and it's shaping into a great story, so let me just say, "You want this." And you do. I'm not gonna just gonna pick a random commenter, you have to let me know you want a copy, then I'll use my super secret technology to pick a winner from those of you that let me know you want one. A Kindle copy, that is, that I can email to you.

And, last but not least, my book The House on the Corner is part of a special 12 Days of Christmas give away. You can win a signed, physical copy of the book and read the interview with yours truly over at Into 'da Fiyah. Make sure you stop by and check it out!

So... go grab all the FREE! stuff, and let all your Kindle app bearing friends know about them, too!
Oh, and have a

Merry Christmas!

I Miss You!: The Blogfest

All of this started (I think) because I was pruning my blog list. Do you ever do that? Scroll down the list of blogs that you follow and notice how few of them are still active? "Let's see, it's been a year since the last time this person posted, this one can go." But, then, there are those I see and I think, "Man, whatever happened to blogxyz? I really liked that blog. I hope it was just normal attrition and not because something bad happened. Maybe I should email the blogger just to check in?" But I never follow through with urge to email, because, invariably, I'll think "later," but, when later comes, I've forgotten all about it.

But all of  this cutting off of old blogs or, actually, keeping some "just in case that person comes back" made me think that it would be awfully nice to be able to let people know that they are missed, so I contacted the Inestimable Alex to talk to him about it, and he dragged in the Inexhaustible Matt and, pretty soon, we had a blogfest.

Just so you know: I may not follow all of the rules exactly as we decided on them, so I'm not gonna re-post them. I'm just gonna name off some of the blogs I really miss having around. How do ya like them apples? (No, I don't really know what that means, but I had a friend when I was a kid that said that all the time, and it just popped into my head. Yeah, that's the way my brain works.)

1. Serendipity's Library: This is the blog that started all of this. Jennifer hadn't been around for a while when I was doing my pruning, and I started wondering what may be going on to stop her from blogging, because she had been very steady for a long time and the cessation was relatively sudden. I like her blog. It's full of all kinds of quirk and unique perspective. She's been around a little more since we came up with the idea of this thing, but not so much that I took her off the "I Miss You" list. She did post a new Charlotte the Creepy Doll story recently, so that was good, but, still, I miss when she was posting a few times a week, and I figured she should know that.

2. The Blutonian Death Egg: Even though I'm in (semi)regular communication with Rusty, because, well, he is my artist after all, and, yes, I do mean he's my artist; I don't care what anyone else says or even Rusty's own opinion on the subject. I found him; he belongs to me. Unless you're going to pay him wads of cash, you need to talk to me before using my cover artist. Oh, wait, where was I? Oh! So, yeah, it's not like I don't talk to Rusty, but I do miss his blog now that he's not keeping up with it so much. I especially miss when he used to talk about things he found interesting. Like, there was just this article about the Ronin planet that NASA or someone found, and, I bet, if Rusty posted about that, it would be a really cool post, and I miss those old posts by him. Even if he doesn't have time or inclination to be doing that stuff right now, I figured he oughtta know that his blog as I found back when I found is still one of my favorites.

3. It's the world, dear: I love Bess' blog. She has this great way of talking about New York and hipsters and, well, everything. And coffee. Coffee comes up a lot. She's taking a break from the blog world at the moment for an unspecified time, and I will miss reading her posts until she comes back. She was also posting some great clips from the world of her novel for a while, so I'm really looking forward to reading that. If she'll ever let me.

4. Alyssia Kirkhart: Alyssia had a baby and, well, a bunch of other things, so she hasn't been around much, but I do miss her blog. Not that she doesn't pop in every so often, but it's more like once a month instead of a couple of times a week. She always had an interesting way of saying whatever it was she was saying. I've always felt she deserved more traffic than she had, but I also remember what it's like to have a baby around, so... If I ever get even half way caught up on my reading, I need to read her book(s).

5. the museum of joy: Jericha has this great blog about this museum she one day wants to build, and she talks about all kinds of fabulous things at great length. Hers is a blog you can't skip idly through. You have to invest in reading her posts or just not bother. But her posts are worth the effort, and I miss when she was doing them more regularly. But she got this job at this awesome museum, which she talks about sometimes, but she doesn't post so often anymore. It's certainly worth stopping by when she does, though.

6. Concrete Pieces of Soul: This is a blog I really enjoyed while it was around. J, the author of the blog, had a great voice, and I always enjoyed reading her posts. She got married and life got in the way of blogging. I get that, but I do miss her posts.

All right, so those are the blogs I currently miss. The ones that I worry about missing are a little more difficult to nail down, because I listed them, mostly, already. But there are some, so let's take a look at those, too.

1. Briane Pagel: Okay, Briane Pagel is not a blog, but he does have more than a few, more than I can keep track of, actually, so I've picked two of his that I follow: The Best of Everything and Thinking The Lions. On a regular basis, Briane posts more than should be humanly possible. He has twin 6-year-olds and is a lawyer yet can post more in a day than I can in a week. His posts are long, often rambling, and always full of interesting thoughts told in an interesting way. Really, I love his blog, and, of all blogs I follow, I would hate to lose Briane the most. He's also incredibly supportive of independent writers, and you just can't buy the kind of support he gives away for free. Seriously, he is completely under appreciated. I get that he writes long posts, but more people should be willing to make the time investment in them. I hope Briane never goes away.

2. A Beer for the Shower: I love ABftS. Bryan and Brandon have the funniest blog I know of and are great writers to boot. They now have a goat as president of their blog, so I'm hoping that doesn't have any huge impact on their schedule. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you should be reading their blog.

3. The Warrior Muse: Shannon has a great blog that covers a lot of ground. She writes great, in depth, pieces about historical people and places that are always interesting. She posts great photos of Colorado. She offers great links and support to other writers. I would be sad if she ever quit blogging, so I'm glad that she's still around.

Well, that about covers all of that. Go by and show these blogger some love. For the ones that are MIA, if you are a follower of them, go by and let them know that you miss them, too. Or drop by and say that Andrew said you had a great blog and you should come back and show us. Let them know that they are appreciated. Well, quit standing around here and get to it!

In other news, my computer died. I'm pretty sure it's completely dead. Well, okay, that's not quite true. It could be revived, but it looks as if the cost of trying to get my seven-year-old computer running again will rival the cost of an even better, brand new computer. I suppose I should be thankful for the rise of tablets for that reason, because I can, actually, get a brand new desk top for cheaper than the new i-pad mini.

You be wondering how this affects you... well, for those of you that are following Shadow Spinner, part 9 was due out on Monday. At this point, that is next to impossible as the document is still locked in the dead computer. I'm hoping, maybe, for a Black Friday release, but I don't know yet. This may also set back the release of my super duper, top secret project that I was hoping to release the Monday after Thanksgiving in conjunction with Briane Pagel's Christmas blogathon thing: The Merry Christmas To All (e)Book A Day Traveling Blogathon (of Doom!). I should still be posting on my scheduled days, but I may not be releasing anything new. We'll see how it goes.
More on technology next week.

Unexpected Applause: Chasing the Sandman

Way back at the beginning of the year, I did a review on a book by the guys over at A Beer for the Shower. It's a good book, so you should all click the link, read the review, and go buy the book. But that's not what we're here to talk about today.

Today, we're here to talk about the first solo release of the Brandon half of the Beer team, Chasing the Sandman

This is a collection of short stories that Brandon has written over the years and finally collected into one place. As such, I mean, as such that it is short stories, I should probably say right here at the beginning that I'm not the biggest fan of short stories. Which is not to say that there have not been some that I've really enjoyed or even some that have been very influential in my life, but, mostly, I just feel like there's not enough to them, so I tend to avoid short story collections. It's also why, I suppose, that I don't really write short stories either. What I think is going to be a short story when I start out always becomes something bigger than that (The Evil That Men Do is a good example).

Now that everyone is expecting me to trash the book, let's get to the technicals. As is generally the case with independently published books, this one could have used an editor; however, it wasn't too bad. Other than  the repeated issue with the comma after the conjunction with an independent clause following (my current peeve), there were no consistent errors. Just the occasional typo and left out word. All in all, it's a pretty good job that would say is a B. If not for that one comma thing, I'd say a B+ to an A-, but, then, there's the comma thing. That's probably a bigger issue for me than, well, pretty much everyone else, though (and I have a whole post about commas coming up; won't that be fun!).

But let's look at the book itself. Great title, right? I think it's a great title. My only issue with it is that it didn't seem to have any relation to the stories within the book. Often, with a collection like this as with the title of an album, the title will have something to do with a theme for the stories or with one story  in particular. There are no stories with the same title nor is the line used anywhere, so, unless I missed the theme, it's just a cool title. I'm not sure how I feel about that, although I'm sure it won't bother a lot of people. That's probably just me and my hang up with titles, but you can blame that on Samuel Delaney.

Jumping into the book, though, there is a lot of good to be said about it. Most of the stories are quite good with a twist that you can see coming but can't quite figure out. It makes them interesting in a way that most things of this genre are not. In fact, I'd love to go through them individually, but I don't think I could say anything of substance about them that wouldn't give away more than you'd want to know, so I'm not going to do that.

I will say that the first story hooked me immediately, for reasons I can't say, and kept me going even though... well, see, I can't say that, either. What I can say is that "Graveyard Shift" is a freaky story even though I think it probably shouldn't be, and that says a lot for the author. It made my skin crawl, and I'm not even afraid of... yeah, see, I can't say that.

"Runaway Train" is unusual and sad. Sort of a unique perspective.

"Spirit House" is great even though I saw where it was going. But, see, it's one of those that I really wanted to be longer. I felt stifled by the shortness of it.

"Spirit of Christmas" is one where you think you know what's going to happen but the author pulls one over on you. You know there must be some twist coming, but you just can't figure out what it could be, and, then, when it happens, you smack your forehead. Brilliant!

Amidst all the horror slips "Into the Deep," a great little sci-fi piece that hints at a lot more. There's a bigger story there, but the one that's told is a good one.

"Seeking Shade" is great. I probably have a particular fondness for it due it's shadowy theme. There are some interesting things going on there and more to be told, I'm sure.

And I loved "1st Appearance"! The comic book thing is right up my alley and is the kind of thing any comic nerd dreams about. Okay, well, probably the second thing any comic nerd dreams about, but we can't talk about the first one in polite company. Okay, so, really, the main thing any comic nerd dreams about is getting super powers, but if you leave that one off the list... Just forget that I'm talking. Except keep reading.

All of that aside, the story I liked most, "Spilled Ink," was also the one I was frustrated with. It's a great example of what I think of as a story that's too short. It's a great idea and well written, except the author makes a couple leaps of logic that I have to assume were made to the story an acceptable length, except that I would much rather that it be twice as long or three times as long to get all the story in there rather than have it be whittled down. So I think it's a great story, but it's definitely too short.

As is the last story, "Denatured," although I didn't like that one as much. However, I might have liked it a lot more if it didn't fee so sparse. The ironic thing about that is that I think "Spilled Ink" and "Denatured" are the longest stories in the collection.

With 21 shorts, there were only a few that I didn't care for at all, and, I think, that's saying something. Generally speaking, for me, in a collection like this, I'd only be finding a few a actually liked, and I'd be dismissing the rest as inconsequential, but this whole collection, for the most part, really kept me going.

If you like horror and suspense, this is definitely something you should check out. You can see hints of the humor and wording from The Missing Link in here, and that, to me, is very interesting. Interesting in that I can see how the Brandon half of Beer works with the Bryan half to make their stuff work. But, again, that's probably just me. Overall, I'd give the collection a good B hedging to the higher side of the B. The stories are definitely above average and do a good job of defying expectations. You go read it and let me know which ones you like best. That's kind of the most fun with short story collections anyway. Especially if you love one that I hated. Okay, so I didn't hate any of them, but, with 21 stories, there have to be a few on the lower end of the scale.

And remember to come back on Monday!
For the FREE! release of