Scott Semegran
A Kind of In-Between by Aaron Burch is a book of essays that reads like short stories, exploring Burch's life as a teacher, writer, divorcee, and a 40-something Midwesterner. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Aaron Burch is both nostalgic and looking forward to what's to come, all while trying to enjoy the present as much as possible. A Kind of In-Between looks at the last few years of Aaron's life (getting divorced, teaching, being a writer, settling into life in the Midwest in his 40s) and also back to his childhood (being adopted, an almost obnoxiously happy and loving childhood, growing up on the West Coast), in curious, playful snapshots that become a whole greater than the sum of their parts. These short essays are about growing up and memory; who Aaron is and who he wants to be; road trips and home and collectibles and family and friendship; how he sees himself, how he wants others to see him, and all the overlaps and incongruencies therein; being a stepfather and son and child and adult and husband and ex and teacher and writer and friend; the things we keep and the things we let go; how to try to make sense of being a person in this world.”
Aaron Burch is many things to many people but mostly known as a teacher and a writer but to some he's a live-music fan and divorced dude yet a jovial person nonetheless who writes like he talks, about anything and everything, and he ponders so much—the universe!—and is able to jot these ponderings down as easily as baking a pie (is baking a pie really that easy?!?!) while making you laugh and contemplate your place in said universe and think about things like the afterlife, helping a deer stuck in a fence, what it's like to cut down a tree in the middle of campus with a chainsaw, looking cool in photos for social media even though he doesn't want to look cool in photos, learning to ollie on a skateboard, or riding bikes with his buddy, or, or, so many things, but he does it with style and class and humor and thoughtfulness and it's almost like he's writing fiction but it's not fiction because it's his real life, but it sounds like fiction and it feels like fiction and did you know (he teaches fiction???) or rather do you care to know that he's written several books and they're all great, but especially this one because it's short and zippy and funny; and you won't want it to end because life after the pandemic seems rather pointless and it's nice to just... laugh.
This book made me laugh, a lot.
I enjoyed this book and I highly recommend it. I would give this book 5 stars.
Escape from Oblivia is Brian Kindall's latest novel, part adventure story, part midlife crisis, and part allegory. Unlike his previous works, this book is set decidedly in modern times, giving Kindall the opportunity to examine masculinity and the tropes of manliness in literature. If you were born any time during the 20th century, then you would be aware of these tropes from macho adventure books, comic books, action movies, and the like; they were prevalent across all media. These tropes have been long overdue for a reckoning and Kindall is the man up for the task.
Main character Will Kirby is diligently working on a book about his favorite writer: Richard Henry Banal. Part fiction writer and part adventurer ala Indiana Jones, Banal is just the macho man / adventurer / author who stands upon the alter which Kirby worships. Kirby, like Banal, is also a fiction writer, but of modest success and practically unknown to the literary world. The library where Kirby researches Banal employs two, flirty librarians who admire Kirby for his under-appreciated western novel as well as his allure as a local writer ripe for discovery. But once Kirby goes down the rabbit hole of discovering Banal's true identity, he grapples with the constructs of what makes a man so manly. Couple this with his own nascent marital problems and Kirby finds himself in a full-blown, midlife crisis. Fun and adventure will be had! But at what cost?
Escape from Oblivia is both a satire and an adventure story, one that begins in the doldrums of modern life then morphs into a no-holds barred adventure story that is just as absurd as it is action-packed, almost like an up-to-date reimagining of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. Initially told in first-person by protagonist Will Kirby, Kindall constructs a narrative that is both humorous and thoughtful, as Kirby relays his misgivings of devolving from a promising writer to a milquetoast stay-at-home dad. But as Kirby grapples with his mid-life crisis, the story shifts into a macho, adventure rendered in third-person, filled with adrenaline, mystical creatures, lusty island women, and absurdism deluxe. It's a fun combination. Those that enjoy their stories wrapped up neatly will be slightly disappointed, as some of Kirby's marital / familial issues early on in the story are not resolved. The reader will have to decide for themselves if Kirby feels his family life is worth returning to. But in the meantime, I will be returning to more books by Brian Kindall, an excellent writer with a vivid imagination and wry sense of humor.
I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and I highly recommend it. I would give this novel 4 and 1/2 stars.
Samurai Bluegrass by Craig Terlson is a book of science fiction with elements of time travel and suspense. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “In a magical tale of a samurai lost in time, Craig Terlson draws bold strokes of beauty and violence, music and myth, calm and chaos, in ancient Japan and modern-day Toronto. Gordo Clement arrives in a forest in Toronto in 1984, right after he was killed by archers in 12th C. feudal Japan. Or so he believes. When Gordo is invited to a bluegrass concert, he recognizes traits of the samurai in the players, and the music pulls him back to the moment he crossed over in time. Still in a reverie from the concert, he comes upon Heather, a single mother, who is set upon by a gang of men. Gordo appears out of the shadows and fights off her attackers like a martial arts master. While hiding his true identity from his friends, Gordo learns that the doctor is a fellow time-traveler who knows how to get back to the 12th C. Gordo is elated at the thought of returning home, until he understands that for the crossover to happen someone must die.”
Terlson switches between first- and third-person for the chapters narrated by Gordo (1st) and Heather (3rd). Terlson does an excellent job of unspooling this time travel adventure, weaving both narrative threads masterfully. Gordo's “fish out of water” bit is funny yet detailed as he tries to grapple with his new life in Toronto, far and away from his previous life in twelfth-century Japan. Heather's life as a single parent is troublesome for her yet relatable for the reader. When these two characters cross paths, we are propelled down a winding urban adventure to a satisfying conclusion. The vigilante motif is a well-trodden tale in pop culture via movies, television, and comic books, but is uniquely told here. Terlson is an author worth keeping an eye out for. I will be reading more of his books in the near future.
I enjoyed this novel and I recommend it. I would give this book five stars.
This was the second time I read this book. The first time was in my mid-twenties and I loved it. I seemed to remember it as irreverent, funny, and biting. Twenty-seven years later, I still found parts of it to be funny and irreverent, but less biting this time around. In fact, Buk is pretty repetitive in this novel and some of his “bits” are repeated from many of his other books whether it's describing his cigarettes (the “an Indian cigarette called a Sher Bidi. The lepers roll them” bit) or the constant opening of red wine and pouring some red. As I've gotten older, his constant reference to boozing has gotten tiresome and takes away from his observant writer's eye, which I feel was sharper in his earlier novels and short stories. The narrative here is a lot of “and then, and then, and then” with very little reflection. When he does stop and say something like:
“I was a little sad that I wasn't young... I starved so that I could have time to write. That just isn't done much anymore.”
Then I'd wished he done a little more of that reflection. Instead, it feels like a confession that this novel just isn't his best work.
That just isn't done much anymore. That seems true when this novel came out.
If you want grade-A Buk fiction, then go for Ham on Rye or South of No North. Those books are excellent!
River, Sing Out is the latest novel from award-winning author James Wade, a gripping book of crime and suspense about a girl and a boy on the run from evil drug dealers. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Attempting to escape his abusive father and generations of cyclical poverty, young Jonah Hargrove joins the mysterious River—a teenage girl carrying thousands of dollars in stolen meth—and embarks on a southern gothic odyssey through the East Texas river bottoms. They are pursued by local drug kingpin John Curtis and his murderous enforcer, Dakota Cade, with whom River was romantically involved. But Cade and Curtis have their own enemies, as their relationship with the cartel controlling their meth supply begins to sour. Keeping tabs on everyone is the Thin Man, a silent assassin who values consequence over mercy.”
Wade is a master storyteller with an ability to create a vivid world within his inventive narrative language. The cadence of the narration as well as the choice wordplay are unique to Wade. Although it takes time to assimilate to the language, once done, it is an invitation into a perfectly self-contained world. The relationships between young Jonah and River, as well as Jonah's friendship with old man Carson, are the beating heart and soul of the story. These two narrative threads were a marvel to behold. Although the soliloquies from Cade, Curtis, and the Thin Man are effective in establishing their dominance over the region as well as their unabashed evil intentions, these speeches often bogged down the narrative. Nonetheless, the reader can't help but cheer for Jonah, River, and Carson as their world undoubtedly spins out of control towards disaster, and our hope for their future grows more worrisome. The pacing of the storytelling is splendid and the description of the wildlife and countryside is poetic. Here's an example:
“The morning sun didn't hold, and soon the rain fell and gathered on the ground and in the trees, and the leaves weighed down and dripping, and the branches and plants sloped over like some great melting of the world. The squirrels looked out from their hiding holes, and the birds shook their wet feathers, and the deer moved silent toward higher ground. They moved in groups of threes and fours, like untrusting survivors of the apocalypse, stopping to lift their heads skyward and blow, trying their best to discern the true measure of their own safety in the storm.”
Well done, James Wade!
I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and I highly recommend it. I would give this novel 5 stars.
The Theory of Light and Matter by Andrew Porter is a book of short stories categorized as literary fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “These ten stories take us across the country—from rural Pennsylvania to Southern California to suburban Connecticut—and deep into characters struggling to find meaning in their day-to-day lives. The Theory of Light and Matter is a stunningly astute vision of contemporary American suburbia, full of tension, heartbreak, and emotional complexity—the work of an important new voice. Long Listed for the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award.”
Earlier this year, I read the new collection The Disappeared by Andrew Porter and knew I'd have to dive into this earlier collection by the same author. There is a different cast of characters in this one, an array of disaffected yet searching narrators looking for meaning in their lives when they aren't receiving answers from their loved ones or friends or neighbors. All of the stories are told in first-person and are intimate retellings of very personal situations and memories.
“Azul” is about a husband's awkward relationship to a foreign exchange student—who is named Azul—and the close relationship the student has to the narrator's wife. The narrator—Paul—is baffled by how close his wife becomes with Azul and often wonders why he's tasked with driving Azul to his lover's place. Paul often delights in observing Azul's spats with his gay lover Ramón. When they break up, Paul unwittingly invites Ramón to a house party for Azul with unsettling results.
In “Merkin,” Lynn and Michael are neighbors who support each other when their respective relationships and marriages fall apart. They're platonic friends even though they speak about a mutual attraction. Lynn keeps her lesbian relationship from her father, using Michael as a stand-in boyfriend. Michael organizes a poetry reading for deaf students. Even though they don't seem to understand why the other does what they do, they are deeply supportive of each other.
By far the best and most moving story in the collection is the titular “The Theory of Light and Matter.” It's the story of college student Heather and the relationships she has with two men: her boyfriend Colin and her professor Robert. She loves the two men for very different reasons, but is drawn to older Robert because he truly seems to know the real her. Their relationship is mostly platonic, but Heather confesses to the reader a very deep connection she feels to Robert. Colin is the more practical choice and she reveals that she eventually marries him, but she confesses to a couple of rendezvous that expose her true feelings toward Robert and her disconnection from Colin. It's a story filled with emotion and mystery and the undeniable truth that people are full of secrets—some worth sharing with others and some which can never be excavated. After Colin discovers Heather spending time with Robert at a bar, she agrees to never see Robert again, yet she still secretly visits him and reveals even more to the reader. It's a devastating admission to the denial of her true feelings. I loved this story.
I really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book five stars.
The Red-Headed Pilgrim by Kevin Maloney is a humorous novel of literary autofiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “On a sunny day in a business park near Portland, Oregon, 42-year-old web developer Kevin Maloney is in the throes of an existential crisis that finds him shoeless in a field of Queen Anne's lace, reflecting on the tumultuous events that brought him to this moment. Thus begins a journey of hard-earned insights and sexual awakening that takes Kevin from angst-ridden Beaverton to the beaches of San Diego, a frontier-themed roadside attraction in Helena, Montana, and a hermetic shack on an organic lettuce farm. Everything changes when Kevin falls in love with Wendy. After a chance tarot reading lands them on the frigid coast of Maine, their lives are unsettled by the birth of their daughter, Zoë, whose sudden presence is oftentimes terrifying, frequently disturbing, and yet–miraculously–always wondrous. The Red-Headed Pilgrim is an irresistible novel of misadventure and new beginnings, of wanderlust and bad decisions, of parenthood and divorce, and of the heartfelt truths we unearth when we least expect it.”
Main character “Kevin Maloney” is a fictionalized version of author Kevin Maloney and the book opens with him wondering how he fossilized into the day-job that was only supposed to last for a short time, but stretched into twelve years. What he really wanted to do was see the world or join a monastery or live in the woods shunning modern society and bellowing a “barbaric yawp.” Kevin wonders what happened? He recounts his younger years through his twenties with the verve and idiocy of Bukowski's Hank Chinaski ala Walt Whitman ala Allen Ginsberg ala Burrough's William Lee. He quotes Jung and listens to the Red Hot Chili Peppers and asks young women if he can stick his penis in their vaginas (literally). His adventures lead him to a weird, codependent relationship with Wendy which spawns a child named Zoë.
Eventually, Kevin's relationship with Wendy curdles and Zoë becomes way more perceptive than Kevin or even Wendy can handle. It's a pretty wild ride for Kevin and Wendy as they travel back and forth from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine and back, their restlessness exasperated by the demands of parenting and the need for money and benefits and stability that only a boring work-life can give.
The main focus, of course, is “Kevin.” He's the narrator and the center of the story. Often hilariously oblivious, his single-mindedness toward getting laid or finding adventure is endearing for a good while, although his behavior and limited sensibility becomes tiresome and repetitive. Why does he keep making these idiotic decisions? It becomes hard to take after a while. Fortunately, author Kevin Maloney injects pathos and honest reflection by the end, which provides the reader an opportunity to inspect their own life as a teenager and young adult, all the stupid decision that they most likely made and the consequences of those stupid decisions. After reading the epilogue, I was able to relate to “Kevin” a bit and see my own idiotic younger self. That guy—my younger self—made a ton of boneheaded decisions, many of them regretful. One of the things “Kevin” feels nostalgic for is a young person's ability to just go with it, to just roll with the punches, say yes to any adventure, to just do something—anything. And that's a wonderful ability to have at any age. As Kevin declares by the end, just say “yes, yes, yes” to adventure.
I enjoyed this novel and I recommend it. I would give this book four and a half stars.
The first story “In Flux” was exceptional. Kafkaesque and very funny in parts, I really, really enjoyed this story a lot. The rest of the stories were pretty good, but not like the first one. More like “slice of life” stories, I really hoped for a return to the biting satire of “In Flux,” but didn't get it. The audiobook narrator's performance was good, too, except his Jamaican patois was better in smaller doses as it came across as too performative and less natural. Overall, a good audiobook.
The Dog of the South by Charles Portis is a picaresque, humorous story of Ray Midge's rambunctious journey to Central America to retrieve his stolen Ford Torino, and maybe win his wife back. It was first published in 1979. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Ray Midge is waiting for his credit card bill to arrive. His wife, Norma, has run off with her ex-husband, taking Ray's cards, shotgun and car. But from the receipts, Ray can track where they've gone. He takes off after them, as does an irritatingly tenacious bail bondsman, both following the romantic couple's spending as far as Mexico. There Ray meets Dr Reo Symes, the seemingly down-on-his-luck and rather eccentric owner of a beaten up and broken down bus, who needs a ride to Belize. The further they drive, in a car held together by coat-hangers and excesses of oil, the wilder their journey gets. But they're not going to give up easily.”
A writer hero of mine mentioned that this book was his favorite road trip novel, and I can see why. Out of print for many years, this novel as well as Portis' other books including NY Times Bestseller True Grit were lovingly brought back to life by The Overlook Press. Narrated by main character Ray Midge, he is quirky, deadpan, knowledgeable about all things history and science, and dead-set on retrieving his beloved Ford Torino and possibly his wife Norma, if she'll have him back. Midge meets a variety of whacky characters on his way to Central America including Dr. Symes and his mother whom the locals call Meemaw, wayward Christine and her obnoxious son Victor, a boy named Webster who works as a “bell hop” at a hotel in Belize, and compatriot Jack Wilkie. The journey is irascible and rambling. That Midge even gets close to finding his wife and precious car is a miracle in itself. It's been a long while since a novel made me burst out laughing and this novel delivers on the funny. There are several scenes of funny situational comedy as well as oddball conversations between Midge and so many characters. The laughs for me just kept coming. And Midge's declarations. When something surprised or shocked him, he'd call them out. “The Sons of Pioneers!” “The strength of materials!” “California dopers!”
Not that this is a perfect novel, though. Many of the conversations go on for pages without any scene action or description of what the characters are doing. And the ending is rushed and lackluster. After taking the entire novel to find what he was looking for, he gets back home in only a couple of paragraphs. There was certainly more room for reflection of the whacky trip and a more detailed denouement. But this is nitpicking really, because the novel was so thoroughly funny and engaging. I couldn't wait to get to the next chapter so see what new shenanigans Midge would find himself in.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book and I highly recommend it. I would give this book 4 and 1/2 stars.
I re-read this classic to be reminded just how much of a master Steinbeck was. He does so much with so little. Written to be interpreted as a play, or vice versa as a novella, the scene setting and dialogue work perfectly for this reason. Characterization is strong and the interaction between the characters rings true.
The book has been banned from school curriculums over the years for racial slurs, sexism, promoting euthanasian, and more, but the story and characters are a product of their time (1930s Depression-era America), and the interaction between the working men as well as the portrayal of Curley's wife in their eyes is believable in this context and setting.
The ending is notable for its multiple layers. Although cruel on the surface, there is a tenderness to George's rationale, as the story George tells Lennie about their dream of owning land and tending rabbits–and the deliberate way he tells it–brings some comfort to Lennie, in contrast to what the impending mob would bring.
Finally, the way Steinbeck sets a scene is poetic and breathtaking in its efficiency.
My girlfriend gave me this book to read. It's very insightful and the techniques work for me and my children. I highly recommend it!
Fantastic artwork and one of the quirkiest characters I've ever come across in any genre. Wilson is a true original. Classic Daniel Clowes.
T.S. Garp is a somewhat known writer with a peculiar mother who is a more famous writer than he is. Jenny Fields, his mother, was a nurse who was strong-willed and she enjoyed caring for folks but didn't have a desire to be in a relationship with anyone. She saw herself as asexual. When the desire to be a mother overcame her, rather than foster a relationship she didn't want, she copulated with a mentally injured soldier who died soon after inseminating her. Jenny raises Garp on her own, in her own peculiar way, instilling an interest in wrestling and literature into her boy. The first quarter of the book about Jenny raising Garp and his awkward adolescence is the best part of the entire book; the quirky premise of an asexual, feminist nurse raising her son at an all-boys school was a promising start for this novel.
When Garp graduates, the book segues to Jenny and Garp traveling to Europe together where Garp befriends a hooker and Jenny doesn't get out much to sight-see. Jenny declares a desire to write a book about herself even though she's never written before and Garp is inspired to write because of his time walking the streets. One of the themes Jenny harps on in her book is lust and her lack of having it. She both emasculates and sympathizes with her son for lusting after women, foreshadowing later events with Jenny's “fans” and their perception of Garp and his place in Jenny's life.
Garp and his mother return to the U.S. having both completed a manuscript: Jenny's autobiography A Sexual Suspect and Garp's short story with the awkward title of The Pension Grillparzer. Jenny's book gets published through the first publishing contact she makes (really?) and her book becomes a huge bestseller. She becomes nationally known as the asexual feminist who wears a nurse's uniform wherever she goes. Garp's short story is published with little fanfare. The bulk of the rest of The World According to Garp follows young Garp into adulthood as he marries his wrestling coach's daughter, Helen, and the two have children. Garp stays at home with their kids and is a doting father who worries tremendously about his kids. Garp writes a couple of novels that are mediocre and not very successful; his readership is considered small yet astute. He and Helen have consensual affairs with another couple. And the novel goes on and on, not giving much insight into any of these plot points. Even though Garp is described as a doting father, he gives very little insight into being a parent. Although Garp is a writer, he gives very little insight about the process of writing or pursuing writing as a career (Irving as narrator does offer a zinger or two about the process of writing, though. I'll get to that later). And the consensual affair seems to neither strengthen nor diminish their marriage; it ends simply because Helen tires of it and their marriage carries on.
Mostly, that's the way the entire novel goes, by just carrying on. Irving introduces quirky characters and premises but does not really dive into the quirkiness of the characters and premises very deeply. It's like he is creating a laundry list of interesting ideas then leaving us simply with the list. Asexual nurse and single mother who miraculously becomes a bestselling author? Check. A football player that becomes a transsexual and Garp's best friend? Check. A college student, Michael Milton, who has an affair with Helen then whose penis is bitten off by Helen in a car accident? Check. It all sounds more interesting than it plays out with very little insight into these weird characters' motivations or feelings or desires other than to say “Look at these loonies! Next.” For being such quirky characters, the interactions and conversations between them are a real drag. Their lasting love or friendship for each other through one bizarre event to another mundane event seems to be the only thread through the entire book; their lives are entwined simply because they held on together and that's it. As Garp states, “Life ... is sadly not structured like a good old-fashioned novel. Instead, an ending occurs when those who are meant to peter out petered out. All that's left is memory. But even a nihilist has memory.”
Sadly, that's what this novel does: peters out. All the characters summarily die off, their lives ending in mundane fashion, except for Garp and his mother, who are both murdered for being famous writers. The rest of them just live on, then die, as is life. The youngest of Garp's children–Jenny– outlasts them all. She finds a career in medicine, just like her grandmother. The novel ends with young Jenny's observation, “But in the world according to Garp, we are all terminal cases.”
Duh.
Not very insightful, if you ask me. I can tell Irving has a knack for dropping an occasional zinger or two but I really wanted more of that from him. Lines like “A writer's job is to imagine everything so personally that the fiction is as vivid as our personal memories” were so few and far between that I was left wanting. Irving's novel was just teasing, just flirting, not really following through, then it petered out.
One of the best books I've read: powerful, imaginative, and gripping. The sentences are as sparse as the apocalyptic landscape of the story, accompanied by very little punctuation except for commas and periods. But the love of the father for his son shines through and the book had me in tears by the end. Masterfully written.
Lowdown Road by Scott Von Doviak is a book of 1970s hick-flick crime-spree fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Join a heart-racing road trip across 1970s America as two cousins make the heist of their lives and must avoid the cops and criminals hot on their tails. It's the summer of ‘74. Richard Nixon has resigned from office, CB radios are the hot new thing, and in the great state of Texas two cousins hatch a plan to drive $1 million worth of stolen weed to Idaho, where some lunatic is gearing up to jump Snake River Canyon on a rocket-powered motorcycle. But with a vengeful sheriff on their tail and the revered and feared marijuana kingpin of Central Texas out to get his stash back, Chuck and Dean are in for the ride of their lives - if they can make it out alive. With Lowdown Road, he cements his reputation for pedal-to-the-metal storytelling that also makes you think about just who we are and where our darker roads might lead us.”
Lowdown Road is the latest crime novel from Scott Von Doviak, full of action and high jinks. Cousins Chuck and Dean are like a more salacious version of Bo and Luke Duke from the 1970s – 80s television series The Dukes of Hazzard, even the back of the book declaring ‘Just two good old boys. Never meaning no harm.' This novel would make an excellent season to that TV show, but with more violence and sex so it could appear on Cinemax. Chuck and Dean hatch a plan to steal two hundred and fifty pounds of weed and sell it at an Evel Knievel event in Idaho, but they've pissed off a kingpin weed dealer, a malevolent county sheriff, a biker bent on revenge, and practically everyone else they encounter. When their plan starts to unravel, can they sell enough of their contraband to make the wild road trip worthwhile?
There's definitely pedal-to-the-metal storytelling in this novel with a high-speed plot involving many twists and turns as the stakes for the two cousins rises exponentially the closer they get to their Idaho destination. The banter between the cousins is funny at times and they do get themselves into plenty of trouble ala Dukes of Hazzard. There were plenty of times when I wished some of the action would slow down and we'd hopefully get an opportunity to savor some of the scenery and characters in a deeper way. But this wasn't that type of novel and that just wasn't going to happen; this novel does not make us “think about just who we are.” You will get the pronouncement “It was karate time” though, which was hilarious. So, does it give a blockbuster ending to all this mayhem? The answer: definitely. Druglord Antoine describes it best when he says ‘This is some end times shit right here. Lord of the Flies with a bunch of redneck peckerwoods.'
There is one moment about three-fourths of the way through the story where Dean stands at the edge of the canyon, looking to where Evel Knievel will soon be jumping his motorcycle across to certain death. I thought, finally some introspection. Dean's realization that ‘no one takes anything with them when they die, so fuck it' is a bit of eye-rolling cliché that nobody really needs. But if you're looking for a rollicking good time in book form with fast action and some laughs, then you can't do any better than Lowdown Road. Von Doviak admits in his acknowledgments that Lowdown Road is the “`70s drive-in movie playing in my mind, my own hick flick in novel form.” And that's exactly what this book is. Plus, the cover art is throwback perfection.
I enjoyed this book and I recommend it. I would give this book 4 stars.
The Last Catastrophe by Allegra Hyde is a book of speculative short stories about how humanity grapples in a world transformed by climate change as well as other serious issues facing us all. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “A vast caravan of RVs roam the United States. A girl grows a unicorn horn, complicating her small-town friendships and big city ambitions. A young lady on a spaceship bonds with her AI warden while trying to avoid an arranged marriage. In Allegra Hyde's universe nothing is as it seems, yet the challenges her characters face mirror those of our modern age. Spanning the length of our very solar system, the fifteen stories in this collection explore a myriad of potential futures, all while reminding us that our world is precious, and that protecting it has the potential to bring us all together.”
In The Last Catastrophe, readers experience vignettes from different possible futures, most of which stem from environmental catastrophe with the end of the world being the titular scenario. Hyde excels at exposing the humanity in her characters which struggle to connect with others when their worlds are falling apart, literally and figuratively. Several characters have to coddle fragile men—a systemic disease of our society—through the “virtues of white lies” or supporting the “husbands lost in the system.”
The stories “Loving Homes for Lost & Broken Men” and “Cougar” and “Colonel Merryweather's Intergalactic Finishing School for Young Ladies of Grace & Good Nature” are standouts in this already excellent collection.
In “Loving Homes for Lost & Broken Men,” Claudette fosters abandoned husbands in a cruel system. She's supposed to keep her distance emotionally from these fragile men but ultimately falls for Mr. Holm, a man with exceptional social skills and poise. When Claudette considers running away with Mr. Holm, something disturbing is revealed to Claudette.
“Cougar” begins with LeeAnn having sex with Viktor in the woods outside of their treatment facility. She's trying to feel human in a place where the patients are being treated for a variety of technology addictions. LeeAnn's addiction is a particularly pernicious one, something she tries hard to hide from the other patients. Will she survive her time in this cold treatment center?
In “Colonel Merryweather's Intergalactic Finishing School for Young Ladies of Grace & Good Nature,” young Karoline confesses to her roommate hBEC-49011 (an AI speaker in the wall of her room that acts like a counselor). She's part of an interstellar mission to find humanity a new planet, but the young passengers seem more concerned with the promenade to match up girls to eligible bachelors. Karoline is especially close to her hBEC who has its own dark secret.
Hyde is an exceptionally gifted writer. She excels at mining the humanity in her characters who are trapped in their circumstances created by these environmental catastrophes. I will be reading more of her work in the near future.
I really enjoyed this book and I highly recommend it. I would give this book 6 stars if I could, but 5 stars will have to do in a five-star rating system.
The Disappeared by Andrew Porter is a book of short stories categorized as literary fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “A husband and wife hear a mysterious bump in the night. A father mourns the closeness he has lost with his son. A friendship with a married couple turns into a dangerous codependency. With gorgeous sensitivity, assurance, and a propulsive sense of menace, these stories center on disappearances both literal and figurative–lives and loves that are cut short, the vanishing of one's youthful self. From San Antonio to Austin, from the clamor of a crowded restaurant to the cigarette at a lonely kitchen table, Andrew Porter captures each of these relationships mid-flight, every individual life punctuated by loss and beauty and need. The Disappeared reaffirms the undeniable artistry of a contemporary master of the form.”
Fifteen stories are told in this collection, most taking place between San Antonio, Texas to Austin and back. There are a few intriguing questions that run through this collection. What happened to who I used to be? What ever happened to the interesting people I used to hang out with when I was younger? What happened to those weird neighbors I used to live next door to at that shabby apartment complex? If there is a theme song for this book, then it would be “Somebody That I Used to Know.”
For instance, in the first story “Austin,” the narrator begins the story at a party where some old college buddies are hanging out and getting drunk. They're reminiscing and telling stories, although the narrator feels disconnected from them. One friend tells a story about an acquaintance who killed a home invader and asks the narrator if he was justified in doing it. Instead of answering this moral dilemma, the narrator simply leaves the party; he disappears. At home, his wife worries about a possible intruder in their own laundry room. Late one night as he stays up worrying, he muses:
“Outside I could hear the occasional sound of a car passing, young people shouting things into the air. When did I become the person who listened to such sounds and not the person who made them?”
Another story finds a man wondering if an artist he used to date was having a relationship with an older mentor who painted nude portraits of her, but because she dies later, he never finds out. Another story finds a couple dealing with the future of a Parkinson's diagnosis, the female partner seeing her current life eventually disappearing into the incurable disease. A brief story finds a man reminiscing about a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant where he enjoys an astounding pozole soup, but the restaurant changes owners overnight and the remarkable soup vanishes as well as the unusual patrons who all enjoyed their exquisite meals there. Life changes in an instant sometimes. Where do these people and things disappear to?
Porter handles all of these stories with a command of his craft. His writing is fantastic and the stories move along like a ship in the ocean but without a hint of how these stories will end up. There are several places where Porter plays with the reader's expectations, putting clues in place that don't play out the way the reader would expect. Some stories unfurl with a candid placidity; others lurch with a creeping dread. The final story crackles with sexual tension, yet ends with such a thoughtful denouement that I felt consoled instead of tantalized.
When looking back on one's life, many events don't play out how you'd have guessed at the time and I feel Porter revels in this conundrum. When people in your life disappear, where do they go? What happens to them? What happened to the person you used to be? Wouldn't we all want to know.
I really, really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book six stars out of five, if I could. It's that good!
Now Is Not the Time to Panic by Kevin Wilson is a coming-of-age novel of literary fiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Sixteen-year-old Frankie Budge—aspiring writer, indifferent student, offbeat loner—is determined to make it through yet another summer in Coalfield, Tennessee, when she meets Zeke, a talented artist who has just moved into his grandmother's house and who is as awkward as Frankie is. Romantic and creative sparks begin to fly, and when the two jointly make an unsigned poster, shot through with an enigmatic phrase, it becomes unforgettable to anyone who sees it. A bold coming-of-age story, written with Kevin Wilson's trademark wit and blazing prose, Now Is Not the Time to Panic is a nuanced exploration of young love, identity, and the power of art. It's also about the secrets that haunt us—and, ultimately, what the truth will set free.”
Frankie and Zeke are two weirdos who gravitate to each other one summer in 1996. And once they realize they both have a creative fire inside themselves that needs kindling and tending, their lives are forever changed. Wilson excels at finding the emotional core of his characters, excavating it for the reader, and showing just how special it is. Although there is also a “romantic” connection between these two, their friendship is more than that. It's their mutual validation of their true selves—their creative desires and their mutual appreciation for each other—that bonds them together. Frankie can't get over that initial spark, just how special it was, just how something so random changed her forever, and created this writer who is putting great work out into the world as an adult.
Wilson excels at characterization and dialogue between his characters. When Zeke introduces himself to Frankie and explains that Zeke comes from Ezekiel, he says, “It's biblical. But it's my middle name. I'm trying it out this summer. Just to see how it sounds.” Wilson seems to remember in great detail what it was like to be a teenager and the magic that comes from trying anything, being open to friends trying anything, and the willingness to let others in their lives simply because they liked the same things. Many adults lose this ability to make friends easily, but Wilson posits that this is what makes being a teenager so extraordinary.
The town's reaction to their weird posters being hung everywhere is an empathetic reminder to all creative people that the world may not react to their work the way the want or expect or intend. And in the case of Frankie and Zeke, there are deadly consequences to their weird art project. It seems to drive the town crazy. Being creative is inherent to all of us, but nurturing it in each other is special. Ultimately, Wilson shows us that being weird and awkward is just part of who we all are, and when you connect with someone that validates you, then you should embrace it.
The phrase that Frankie writes for the poster becomes her mantra: “The edge is a shantytown filled with gold seekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us.” She repeats it in her head over and over and over, all the way into adulthood. What does it mean? She doesn't know exactly, but it is the impetus to who she eventually becomes: herself.
I really enjoyed this novel and I highly recommend it. I would give this book 6 stars if I could, but five will have to do.
Be Brief and Tell Them Everything by Brad Listi is a novel of autofiction. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “A darkly funny meditation on creativity and family, Be Brief and Tell Them Everything tracks the life of a middle-aged author who is struggling to write his next novel while trying to come to grips with his son's disabilities, set against a backdrop of ecological catastrophe and escalating human insanity in contemporary Los Angeles. A beautiful, powerful, concise work of autofiction that is reminiscent of My Struggle and Grief is the Thing with Feathers, Be Brief documents the stops and starts of adulthood and marriage, and the joys and challenges of parenting, while defining what it means to be a good man, and a good writer.”
The fictional Brad in this novel is very similar to real-life Brad Listi. They both are married with children and live in Los Angeles and host a podcast about a writer talking to other writers. It's difficult to tell from listening to Brad on his podcast and reading Brad's thoughts in his novel where—or if—the two “Brads” diverge. Certainly, they're the same person, right? That's the conundrum, but what a fun one to read and explore.
Autofiction is a flavor of fictionalized autobiography, heightening the question of what is real and what is embellished. In television, think of Seinfeld. In movies, think Almost Famous. In other recent literature, think of The Red-Headed Pilgrim by Kevin Maloney. In most cases, there's a modification of real-life events or the invention of subplots or tangents that help in the search for the self—the examination of the author's “character.” The embellishing in this book procures comedic gold. Be Brief is observationally funny as Brad picks apart the positive and negative aspects of the city of Los Angeles, the lunacy of the endless failures and iterations of writing books, the foibles of parenting by people who have barely figured out their own lives, along with the untimely deaths of his loved ones and the guilt from being raised Catholic.
Brad also revisits the trouble he and his wife had conceiving their second child, only to discover once they did conceive was that their son would be diagnosed with epilepsy and cerebral palsy, a crushing diagnosis for the author. But from that comes a realization of the order of things once they've occurred, things more valuable than he once thought, something like destiny, a funny realization when juxtaposed with Brad's antagonistic views towards organized religion.
A section about procuring psilocybin mushrooms and the retelling of his psychedelic vision threatens to derail this thought-provoking, funny, and tender book. Brad graciously concludes the story of his life so far by recounting the many times he's found himself praying next to his children's beds, not necessarily praying to God, but to cosmic forces unknown, hoping for some grace and a reprieve from the bullshit that life often throws his way.
I really enjoyed this book of stories and I highly recommend it. I would give this book four and a half stars.
