What’s that? You don’t know who she is?? First, watch this. 
Now, watch this. 

You’re welcome.

“I have a great body, I really do. But I want to be taken seriously as an artist, and wearing anything that shows it off will be a distraction from the music.”

Hot Damn. Love Love Love Love Love Her.

About the Book:

Review: Since first discovering she was a part of the prosperous, wealthy American copper family, the Kensington’s, Cora has begun to forge relationships with her half-siblings and their traveling party. Near-death experiences and grand parties have fashioned some of the most harrowing and wonderful experiences of Cora’s life. Feeling more accepted by her two sisters and brother, her heart has been thrown into turmoil. Dashing and handsome with a wealth beyond her imagination, Cora has caught the eye of Pierre, a member of Paris’ aristocracy whose wealth is welcomed in her father’s company but whose lifestyle seems more akin to that of royalty to the simple farming upbringing Cora had. Enchanted by his suit and kind-hearted manners, were her heart not already given to the young tour guide, Will – whom her stern father would never approve of – Cora could see herself welcoming Pierre’s suit. How can she go about pleasing her new family, protecting Will from the wrath her father could surely unleash all while staying true to her own self?

Picking up immediately where the first novel, Glamorous Illusions left off, Lisa’s second chapter in the lives of the Kensington-Morgan clans travels is no less decedent in its settings featuring a compelling, “real” heroine and the best part of all, it shows no sign of letting up as reader’s gear up for the final novel in the trilogy. Never is there a dull moment in Cora’s overseas travels that continues on through Austria, France and Italy. The skill with which Lisa writes this book is unparalleled. History lovers should never feel slighted with the detail carefully inter-woven into the heart of the novel. Chocked full of interesting historical tidbits for any reader who enjoys fascinating fiction with a historical framework, the author never misplaces the concept of what this started out to be; a coming-of-age saga involving a girl whose identity has suddenly been upended.  

If you’ve not yet been swept up into the charms of Lisa’s Grand Tour, there is no better time; wait no longer. It’s a journey you won’t want to miss!

What’s Next: The third and final book in the Grand Tour Series leads the travelers to Tuscany and Rome, and finally, finally…home. September 2013

 Synopsis: For Cora Kensington, the journey of a lifetime takes unexpected twists. And her future-her very life-depends on the decisions she’ll make at each crossroad. As her European tour with her newfound family takes her through Austria, France, and Italy, an unseen enemy trails close behind. Meanwhile, a forbidden love continues to claim her heart, putting everyone’s plans in danger. And as Cora stays one step ahead of it all, what might need the most protection is her own heart, torn between the dramatic pursuit of a dashing Frenchman and a man who has been quietly staking claim to her affections all along. Love has dangers all its own. She must escape the bonds of the past and discover the faith to make the right choices, as each one has grave consequences. – from the publisher 

With thanks to Litfuse and the publisher for providing a complimentary copy of this book for reviewing purposes.

This origin story following Lara Croft in her archeological infancy has all the trapping of a great action/adventure game. The traversal is tight and satisfying, the shooting is devastatingly gruesome, the story is intriguing enough to keep your attention, and the level layout and design is sprawling and large enough to tug on your adventure strings. The quick-time events and utter beating Lara receives are a bit gratuitous and wear their welcome pretty quick though. Also, the lack of puzzle environments that the Tomb Raider series is known for fall short in this rendition, and the puzzles that are presented are underwhelming at best. Ironically, there aren’t too many tombs either.

The story starts with Lara and her crew getting wrapped up in a vicious storm that inevitably lands them on a mysterious island run by savages, cultist, and an ominous storm that allows no one to leave the island. As Lara and the crew try and escape the island, one of the crew members is kidnapped by the cultists and the adventure truly begins. Lara’s adventure through, up, and around the island is met with a ton of opposing force from the inhabitants. I never felt like the developers rushed her character development and at no point was I wondering how and why Lara was capable of doing some of the things she was — like headshots. I heard from a few reviewers asking how it is that Lara could pull off headshots if she is this supposed novice explorer. My answer is simple, she isn’t — the player is. I feel its a tad ridiculous to fault a game because your good at one particular aspect, but I digress. As in any good game that revolves around adventure and action, Tomb Raider definitely holds its own and has no problem running with the best of them — seeing as the original games broke ground in the gaming industry with their advances in this genre. This newly under sexualized Lara Croft starts off a novice and by the end of the game is transformed into the adventurer we commonly know from the 90′s.

In regards to weapons, Lara starts with a bow and ends up with a handful of upgradable weapons (four to be exact) by the end of the game but not so many weapons where you feel overwhelmed. Crystal Dynamics does a great job of balancing the progression of the weapons Lara gets and how they are upgraded. Lara never picks up weapons from enemies, but instead upgrades the 4 core weapons (pistol, bow, shotgun, and rifle) with salvage she finds on enemies and crates. The detail given to Lara and her utility belt as she picks up these weapons and upgrades are of the highest fidelity. Every time she is given a new device, weapon, or upgrade, Crystal Dynamics makes sure you see it on her person.

The combat in Tomb Raider is vicious and gruesome. Gruesome to the point where, if upgraded properly, Lara is pulling off executions with shotguns to the underside of enemies chins and unapologetically pulling the trigger. Some people might find this egregious (and rightfully so) but the amount of shit Lara is put through from the islands inhabitants would justify her brutality. The cover system I found to be organic, seeing as when Lara entered into a combat situation she automatically crouched behind walls and other objects without button prompts. This led to one of the most enjoyable cover systems to date.

Shhhhhh….I’m going to kill you…

Tomb Raider does an absolutely fabulous job at delivering tight controls and precise button actions that feel satisfying. Never did I find myself locked in an animation where a button press would simply get me out of. The climbing is simple and intuitive and at times when Lara was traversing, the camera would sweep over a cliff or ravine which conjured a great sense of danger and anxiety from the players aspect. The camera angles in Tomb Raider never led you astray as you were traversing and always nudged the player in the right direction. White paint clearly marks areas of climbing and if you ever found yourself confused, the game lends a hand with Survival Vision. This vision clearly marks points of interest in a yellow hue against a white smoky backdrop. This vision is also used to discover collectables and animals.

One of the things that did bother me about Tomb Raider was the overwhelming amount of collectibles, curios, and other documents that lend a hand in telling the backstory. The level design in Tomb Raider is diverse and expansive. Not quite true open-world, but definitely not linear. The collectibles are thoroughly littered throughout the environments, but I couldn’t help getting the sense that the developers didn’t know what to do with all their environmental real estate so they just placed collectables everywhere. Either they did it as a last ditch effort because they couldn’t come up with ideas on how to fill the level or intentionally put their for replay value. Either way, it has good tool for the backstory but Crystal Dynamics definitely could have toned it down with their barrage of useless collectables.

Lara also endures quite a beating throughout Tomb Raider. I mean, were talking every hour or so she is falling 30 feet to her near death. At one point in the game I thought — wouldn’t it be funny if she just landed on her feet and chuckled a little — unfortunately this never happened. So, it got to the point where you could almost time it where she would be falling and falling and falling and falling. It became repetitive and lost its impact after the fifth fall. By the tenth of eleventh fall it just became stale as hell.

Now is not the best time to take a nap, Lara.

Ultimately, Tomb Raider surprised the hell out of me. Around every corner was something new and different in terms of level design, traversal, and gameplay. The more I played the game, the more I found to like about it. From the sweeping extreme environments to the gruesome executions and even down to the small technical nuances like the myriad of character animations give to Lara from the developers, this game delivered on all fronts. The game does have you back track through levels, but at no point did I find this tedious or boring. As a matter of fact the game does a good job giving you tools and devices that allow you to get to places within the level not otherwise attainable your first passing through. Crystal Dynamics also does an impeccable job of telling the story of Lara’s origin and how she came about to be such a dominant force as an action/adventure icon. If you were questioning yourself about Tomb Raider and how much fun it would be, I can say without a shutter of a doubt that this game is definitely worth your hard earned money. You will not be disappointed.

To celebrate, we’re going to stick with our Hollywood mojo and assess some films from 2012 that passed the Bechdel Test. Go ahead and click that link if you don’t know what the Bechdel Test is. Anita Sarkeesian explains it very well, and then you’ll have a chance to get to know her and her work, too. Yay, Women!

Ms. Sarkeesian discusses how this test is useful as a barometer for how HWood is doing in its portrayals of female characters on film. What I want to highlight are the films I enjoyed last year that actually Pass this test. From Academy nominees to movies you’ve never heard of, let’s take a look at some films that are raising the bar for stories about women.

I’ll start with the big ones – the movies that the Academy was right to honor with nominations, because they were great films, and they pass our simple but super important test to boot.

1. Zero Dark Thirty
Director Kathryn Bigelow got some flack for her award-winning film The Hurt Locker, because many critics said she had made a “man’s movie” in order to secure a place at the Man’s Competition Table (and then handily crush everyone in their seats). While The Hurt Locker was a wonderful and compelling film, it does fail the Bechdel Test spectacularly, with only two women ever noticeably appearing on-screen, neither of whom have names, or conversations with anyone that I can recall.

With Zero Dark Thirty, Ms. Bigelow redeems herself in every way. Here is a film about the greatest manhunt in our time, and central to the story is Jessica Chastain as Maya, the woman who was essential to bin Laden’s eventual death. Maya develops a friendship with Jessica (played by Jennifer Ehle aka Lizzy Bennett!), and they – surprise – have other things to talk about besides men. Not so ironically, Kathryn Bigelow was passed over by The Academy on this one – she wasn’t even included in the Best Director nominations. Coincidence?

Zero Dark Thirty is also a fierce, engaging and powerful film. Five stars.

2. Les Miserables
Bear with me.
Yes, this is a musical, so in this instance, Singing will count as A Conversation.
Many of the women in this story are known as “Factory Woman 1” or “Whore 3” but many others have proper French names and have ‘conversations’ with each other about work, money, the student uprising, prostitution, and in the case of Young Cosette and Madame Thénardier, mothers, chores, and caretakers.

It passes. Three stars.*

*Stars are relevant to passing the test. For how much I love Les Miserables, it gets ten stars.

3. Beasts of the Southern Wild
Hushpuppy and her precocious self has conversations with several women, and they’re only sometimes about her daddy. They’re pretty short chats, but that has as much to do with the voiceover mechanism and Hushpuppy being a six-year-old as it does with anything else. Four stars.

4. Brave
Please just go see this movie, and make everyone you know see it, too. Then buy yourself a copy and a copy for every child you know under the age of twelve. Five stars.

Now for the lesser-known films that theoretically lack The Gravitas needed to garner attention from The Academy, but also might’ve been looked over because they are stories almost exclusively about women.

5. Pitch Perfect
Okay, so you’ve heard of this one, and you may think me silly for including it, but that’s only if you have no appreciation for Fun and Singing and Awesomeness. With an all-girl a cappella singing group at its center, this thoroughly enjoyable movie passes with flying colors. Plus you get to watch Anna Kendrick doing the cups song! Five stars.

5. Bachelorette
Not to be confused with Bridesmaids, this film is a far more sinister look at weddings and female friendships. I confess it isn’t for everyone, but regardless of whether or not you like it, the movie does a great job of passing the test – especially considering that A Wedding is at the heart of the tale. Far too often, weddings on film are romantic comedies that are all about The Bride and/or Her Fiancée.

Bachelorette is about four friends and the nuances of their sometimes effed up relationships. Not their relationships with men, but their relationships with each other, the men being somewhat on the periphery; which is more like real life than most men would like to admit. Five stars.

6. For a Good Time, Call…
Dearest S brought this movie to my attention, initially because she saw a little of me in the brunette lead actress. Turns out, this is a super fun story about two unlikely friends, their resourcefulness, and their incredible agency over their sexuality.

A special consideration of note: The Bechdel Test says nothing about conversations revolving around Sex, but rather conversations revolving around Men. Think about all the movies you’ve seen where women talk about sex and inevitably the conversation is also about men. For a Good Time, Call… gets bonus points for lots of conversations about the former that only occasionally overlap with conversations about the latter.
Five stars+

Now go celebrate International Women’s Day by watching one or two of these great movies! I’ve seen them all, so I’m going to celebrate by singing some kick ass country songs at karaoke.

And in the future, go see female written/directed/centric movies on Opening Weekend. Hollywood pays A LOT of attention to box office numbers. Let your pocketbook do the talking, and we’ll get more and more stories about women made into movies, until the Bechdel Test is rendered unnecessary and irrelevant! We Can Do It!

There is certainly action and intrigue (weighted by a hefty sense of realism mixed perfectly with fantasy), but the core of the story is something more personal. Caught in this turbulent time is the protagonist, Seraphina, the daughter of a well-known lawyer with a secret that could cause tremendous grief to both him and Seraphina if the truth were exposed; Seraphina’s mother, her father’s first wife, was actually a dragon. As a half-dragon, half-human child, Seraphina has been kept out of the public eye as much as possible, taught not to draw attention to herself and forced to lie to keep her dreadful secret safe. She is caught between two groups who cannot seem to see eye-to-eye and both of who condemn intermingling. In a world that rejects even the possibility of her existence in disgust, in which neither group accepts what she truly is, how is she supposed to accept herself? This question hangs over both the readers and Seraphina as she struggles with self-acceptance and trust in her interactions with the other characters, as she draws closer to acquaintances and pulls back for fear of being rejected and exposed. It doesn’t help when she’s constantly reminded of these differences, from the silver scales on her wrists and waist to the strange people and memories that inhabit her dreams and if left unchecked, cause her to collapse.

But while Seraphina may struggle with who she is, she is not going to let that keep her cooped away her whole life. She possesses the inner strength to go after her love of music, landing her a job as assistant to the court composer. Through this job, Seraphina suddenly finds herself more in the public and in the thick of things than ever, between a job tutoring the second heir to the throne, Princess Glisselda, and a meeting with her cousin, Prince Lucian, and a personal connection with dragons like her uncle Orma. With an important anniversary of the peace treaty approaching, Seraphina is drawn into the mystery surrounding the death of the queen’s son. Her knowledge and connection to both dragons and humans may prove vital, but she must also keep her secret hidden as she grows closer to Glisselda and Lucian. But the lies she tells to protect her secret could ruin those thin connections.

The whole story is very well done and interlaces various elements and themes seamlessly. It has a good pace, balancing action with internal struggles and character development in a way that keeps readers engaged on several levels. I found myself curious from the first page and very quickly hooked. Finally, while there was a bit of romance, it never became the main drive of the story, which I appreciated. Romance done well is fun, but I often see it become the central factor in novels with female protagonists. This seems to perpetuate the stereotype that the most important event in a woman’s life is finding love. However, in novels like Seraphina, writers show that romance is an important event, but many of things contribute to the adventure.

In the end, the title says it all; as much as this is a story of political intrigue, prejudice, and medieval fantasy, the heart of the story lies in a girl named Seraphina’s journey of self-acceptance and discovery. And that journey, I think, is something that almost all of us can relate to on some level.

“You big, bumblin’ sumbitch! You hit one a these kids around here, and these richies’ll bankrupt this town after they see your ass hung!”
Bell hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck in shame.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Mr. Pepper. I guess I got a little fired up.”
“Yeah, well save ‘at fire for your missus, and slow your ass down ‘fore you kill somebody. Now, come on over here and see ‘bout this broke winder.”

Bell was well aware that he had responded appropriately. The associates of Barry Pepper never waited long for a response from the local constabulary. It was rarely needed, but always prompt. Bell hardly knew the streets of the country club, but a rash of petty burglaries (all three of them) had the town’s most important and influential up in arms. And this particular denizen of Corsica’s most valuable real estate represented the potential for a large payday for Barry. Never far from the elusive deal that would set him for life, he had no specialty other than what would pay him dividends for the least investment of dollars or work, and every exchange of capital in Corsica might bear his mark if transacted within his purview.

Even the local Mexican community, situated well apart from Barry’s regular haunts as they were, knew the workings of business with him. Seizing upon the inability of the owners of the Corsica Motel to hire in-house room cleaners and maintenance personnel, Barry had recruited from among the immigrants a team of workers incapable or unwilling to demand anything more than minimum wage and sub-human treatment. He was not above using the willing for his own personal pleasures, his favorite from among them Gladys, a transsexual unbeknownst to him. Barry’s Friday nights were spent among them as owner of several fighting cocks, a hobby that satisfied both his criminal desires and his lust for games of chance. It did not satisfy the wishes of his lonely wife.
He swerved left and right and left again, the Cadillac following the lolling of his head. The Indians had taken his last dollar and plied him with watered bourbon of the lowest variety, Barry arguing his status with the pit boss as though whales were made of five dollar bills. He raised the volume on the radio and buried his foot. The bar ditch held water. Cattle lowed and lumbered away from the wave as the car slid sideways into the stagnancy, steam rising from the stinking wreckage as from a witch’s brew. He kicked the door open, jamming the corner into the mud, and slipped his foot into the water. Cursing his luck, he stumbled to the road and continued on like there had been no detour.
He dug in his pockets as the sun peeked over the housetops, and noticed for the first time that his keys had stayed at the roadside in the swamped Cadillac. There the anomaly Gladys still slept, concussed in the impact.

“Open the damn door!” He yelled. With two kicks he marked the yellow door as birds flew from the low Magnolia boughs behind him, dogs barking in concert.
Sheila May Collins Pepper lived in quiet shame. Like her mother before her, she gave her husband a wide berth, a clean kitchen, and obedient servitude. She answered to her double name or any sound that issued from the mouth of Barry Pepper. Waking with a fright she gathered her robe as she staggered to the door drunk with sleep. He stood there retching, stinking and covered with mud and chaff like a brick maker. He turned to dismiss Bell, having ridden in with him from the edge of town where Bell found him walking by chance. Bell started toward the abandoned car with the wrecker following him.
He caromed off of the wall in the hallway, leaving a stain that would later draw his ire for its existence. He undressed, spilling buttons onto the floor, and stepped heaving into the shower. Sheila climbed in after him and began to scrub his back.

In the fall of that year there was rain. The cold was unusual to a Louisiana autumn, upsetting the internal clocks of man and beast. There was no clock on the business of Barry Pepper. He lost money, and earned problems. In November there was a letter from the bank threatening foreclosure. Barry sold two roosters to pay gambling debts, and paid and took bribes on city contracts, and made no headway on his red ledger entries. In town there was a lawyer who befriended Barry in the bar located at the motel, and they regaled each other with lies and scams.

“Listen, Bub. You gotta get your hands on that old biddy’s money. And, I’ll betcha all that stuff in that old house a her’s will getcha some scratch, too. She aint done nothin’ but let it gather dust, anyways.”
Joe Blanton listed on his stool, his head lolling about like the cheap whiskey he sloshed in his glass. His accent grew thicker as he sank farther into his cups.
“That old bird’ll never give up ‘at damn money,” said Barry. “I cain’t do nothin’ but wait for her to die, and try to get that useless niece of mine to do the right thing with the inheritance. I guess I’ll try to convince her I can save her some taxes or some such. Hell, I don’t think she’ll ever trust me. Dumb li’l bitch. My luck she’ll marry some ol’ hippie goody-two-shoes and they’ll give all ‘at money to the damn Peace Corps or somethin’.”
“Well ‘ats what I’m trying to tell you, Barry. You don’t have to wait on nothin’. I know a old boy over at the retirement home was tellin’ me a buncha them old farts is more than capable a taking care a their self, but their old ungrateful brat kids put ‘em in there against their will. Some of ‘em set and talk about having millions in the bank and sayin’ their kids took it all from ‘em on the premise a they would go out and get it took from ‘em or give it all to some TV preacher. All they had to do was get a power o’ attorney, and, and ‘ats where I come in.”
“You shittin’ me? What do I have ta do?”

Barry was man born with memories. It was no surprise that he drank, or that he philandered, or that he played at chance. It was no surprise that he swaggered, or that he abused love. His father had molded him by reverse osmosis. Barry learned to love his lashes, that being the closest contact they shared. He cursed his mother or left the garbage untended to draw the attention of his patriarch, happy to be more important for a moment than the same pursuits to which Barry would devote himself as a man. It came as no surprise that he took what was not his, and hurt the women he should have protected.

Polly Pepper was not a woman scorned. She was not angry, or vengeful, or in search of justice. She had no scale by which to measure good or evil, and saw each in her own way from her own perspective. She knew evil to be impotent in the grand reckoning, and she gave it no meaning or power, and felt no need to overcome it with good. She knew good to exist without foundation in the hearts and minds of men else it would be no good at all, but an aggregation of all of the deeds for which men allowed themselves accreditation in their own false morality. Polly had no need or desire for good. She accepted her place in a design over which she had no control, and she knew that it existed in a plane that was not visible nor did she desire to know its source. She was, in her mind, a gear in a clockworks.

Sheila pulled away from the house, looking to the panes in the stained yellow door to see if his face appeared there to see that she had gone. She did not see Polly in her red raincoat approaching from behind. Polly had no way of knowing where Barry was to be found, but she knew nonetheless. She loosed the straps from her purse and removed it from the trash bag. She opened it and took the can opener in her hand, sensing the power it held, the weight of each molecule alive against her skin. She was aware of the ridges and valleys of her epidermis, and the identifiers they left on the smooth, cold steel. The object had life. It had a purpose, and had been long in coming to it. She saw herself in no different light.

He stood in the shed with his back to the open wall that faced the street. On the workbench was his gun, which he had disassembled carefully, cleaning each piece and setting them down in their places almost as if he loved them. Only here were his hands ever gentle. Only here was he quiet and tender. Here, where his spirit felt peace, and he did not remember his hate and ire; here, she raised her hands in surrender to the plan that moved her. The rustling of her coat seized his attention, and he knew. Then, he knew no more.

Barry Pepper hated waiting. It was an insult. Ask any restaurant hostess or bartender in town, they would say Mr. Pepper’s first visit to any establishment was a guaranteed altercation with the manager, followed by special attention on every subsequent visit. He was never really in a hurry; it was a matter of principle.

“Garvey! Get my goldamn dry cleaning out here now or I swear to Christ I will have this dump shut down! Do you know who I am?”
Everyone knew who he was. The Cadillac, the slick hair, the ridiculous tailored suits – none of it was necessary. In a town of 1,200, who doesn’t know the city manager? He could have worn shorts and flip flops to work and it wouldn’t have mattered, but why would Barry Pepper want to dress down when his head barely fit through the door?
“I’m so sorry, Barry.” Garvey’s trembling hands struggled to find purchase for the hangers. “We training a new boy and I tell you he’s slow as Christmas. These kids nowadays.” Garvey smiled.
“Listen to me, Garvey. We are not friends. Do you understand that? I ain’t here to make small talk with you, I’m your customer and I won’t have you acting like we growed up together and know each other’s mommas…”
“But we do…”
“See? There you go agin, buttin’ in on me like we’s friends! I’m here on bidness damn it now get this tallied up so I can get on my way!”
Garvey would pretend none of this happened later at the country club, just like he always did.

On this day, Barry was actually in a hurry. He had to drive all the way to the county seat to work out a few details with the sheriff. He had already stopped by the lawyer’s office and picked up the paperwork granting him sole guardianship of his aunt Jessie, along with everything she owned. Aunt Jessie wasn’t the concern; two orderlies from the Sunset House Assisted Living Facility would have her cleared out by the weekend. It was one room in Jessie’s house that had Barry Pepper fidgeting. Saturday could not come soon enough.

Jessie Elaine Pepper grew up in the hill country of Texas on a homestead and tended melons and vegetables in her mother’s garden. Her father would take her and her mother in to San Marcos once a month to see a movie, and Jessie loved nothing more. The two hour drive home was never quiet for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Momma, are the people in the talkies real?”
“Yes, Jessie, now we been over this I don’t know how many times!” She leaned her head on one white-gloved hand.
“Well, where do they live?”
“They live in Hollywood, or thereabouts I imagine.”
Papa flicked his Pall Mall out the window of the truck.
“Who’s Holly Wood? Was she in the picture?”
Momma sighed. “It’s a place, sugar. It’s all one word and it’s in California. That’s way out west farther’n any of us’ll ever go.”

If Momma thought this would discourage Jessie from hoping to see the west coast one day, she had the opposite effect. Jessie would dream for days after a movie of curtsying to Clark Gable at a party or having tea with Myrna Loy. More than anything, she had questions about why they looked the way they did. Momma would answer those questions with aplomb. She had taken a few classes in cosmetology in school and she had a passion for hair and makeup. In those long rides back to the farm in the old truck, a fire was ignited in Jessie.

“Granny Jess, this has Ronald Reagan’s signature on it!” Polly had taken one of the many birthday cards down from Jessie’s mantle. “And Mrs. Reagan, too!”
“They send me a card every birthday and at Christmas, too.” Jessie was beaming.
“I can’t believe that!” Polly knelt down beside Jessie’s chair so they could look at it together. “How on earth do they know you?”
Jessie laughed.
“Well I know them, too, honey. They were both famous actors during what they call the Golden Age of film, and I made them up for the studio. I worked with many of the greats.” Jessie’s eyes were shining.
“I love hearing your stories, Granny Jess. I still cain’t believe you know the president!”
“Please dear, don’t use that word. ‘Cain’t’ is not in the dictionary.”

Polly had grown up in Corsica as an only child. The early eighties oil boom had grown the town and the wealth of many of its residents, but as the nineties approached, so did recession. All the big houses that had been built only a few years before had lost much of their value. Jobs were already hard to come by and the majority of the town lived below the poverty line. Jessie was an exception.

After a successful career in Hollywood, Jessie had made the decision to return to her roots and join her family in Corsica. She had long before sold the homestead after the death of her parents, and that money had seeded a stable retirement portfolio. But the real treasure was her movie memorabilia. In an effort to assess the value (and get a finder’s fee from his agent), Barry had convinced her to insure it. The beneficiary was Polly as far as Jessie knew, but Barry and his agent had made sure that was not the case.

Polly had not been happy when Barry told her that Granny Jess would be moving to a nursing home.

“Uncle Barry, you know her mind is still good and I can take care of her just fine! She don’t need to go to that place!”
“I don’t know what you’re hollerin’ about. You’ll still get to live here, the house’ll be paid for.”
“Granny Jess ain’t owed a dime on this house since she come back from California and you know it!”
“They’s still taxes to be paid on it, and I have an account’ll take care of that. You can ride over there on your bike and visit her and you won’t have to deal with waitin’ on her hand and foot.” Barry eyed her up and down, disapproving.
“Maybe you can get you a husband so you won’t end up like her.”
“I wanna be like her! I wanna be just like her! You just want her stuff!”
Barry walked over and put his face close to hers, his teeth clamped together. “You need to shut your mouth Polly Elaine Pepper! You don’t know nothin’ about what’s going on here! I need to sell that stuff to pay the bills. I ain’t takin’ but what’s worth somethin’. You can keep the rest.”
“You think I’m so stupid. I’ve seen the insurance papers! It’ll take care of the nursing home bills!”
“You don’t know what all bills there are, so shut up before your mouth writes a check your ass cain’t cash, little girl.” Barry let go of her arm and walked away. Polly rubbed it as she swabbed at her eyes. She knew the matter was settled.

To Jessie, the most valuable piece she owned was a large manual can opener. It was made of heavy gauge steel, the kind made before the war. Drop that thing on a foot and it would just be bruised if you were lucky. Jessie had used it in the one foray into acting she took. It was a B movie, but she was the star. Gloria’s Revenge, it was called. The heroine had used that can opener to bash in the skull of her unfaithful husband after she received an anonymous letter tipping her off that he planned to have her murdered. In the end, it was the other woman who had sent the letter when Gloria’s husband claimed Gloria was pregnant and he would have to end the affair. Tragic.

Polly had packed her Granny Jess away and watched as Barry supervised the movers and appraisers who came to take all of her memories to auction. Barry pretended she wasn’t there, Polly wiping her tears on her sleeve. She turned the heater off so as to make it as uncomfortable as possible for Barry and his men. They stayed warm with moving and lifting.

When they were gone, she surveyed the damage. There were a few posters, an award or two, a large case that held an assortment of powders and brushes, and the can opener. She picked it up and felt the weight in her hand. She pictured Granny Jess raising it above her head over and over, the music loud and intense, her eyes wide with anger and vengeance, drops of blood streaming down her face. Polly carried the opener into the living room and put it in her purse. It had begun to rain.

Polly Elaine Pepper swung her raincoat across her back and flipped the hood over her head. She locked the door behind her and dropped the key into the mailbox by the door. Still under the shelter of the carport, she strapped her precious cargo to the platform behind the seat of the bike. In the distance, a rooster crowed. She looked out to the street and nodded to the passing Officer Bell, his car moving practically at idle, steam pouring from the muffler in the cold. She sighed.

I guess I’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him.

After the mysterious death of a colleague, microbiologist Hallie Leland is dispatched to the South Pole to continue her friend’s research. What she uncovers are alarming details of Triage’s plot, which pits her against forces more terrible than she could have imagined. Now, in one of earth’s loneliest and most treacherous places, where high altitude and extreme environmental conditions can play tricks on the mind, Hallie finds that she has only five days to stop the shocking plan from taking hold.  (Goodreads.com)

This book was like a combination of Douglas Preston and Michael Crichton – a lot of intense action with some science added to the mix - and I was captivated from the first page.  At times I was holding my breath because of the dangerous situations Hallie found herself in or, being slightly claustrophobic, I couldn’t get enough air in others.  The author either did extensive research or is an experienced climber and diver – either way, I learned a good bit about both and it helped in better visualization of the scenes.

Hallie is a very strong, intelligent, and opinionated female protagonist and didn’t back down from any situation.  Thrown into a very difficult situation after learning the truth about the death of her colleague, Hallie is unsure who to trust, if anyone.  The only problem I came across was, at one point in the book, due to the environment and other circumstances beyond her control, Hallie became disoriented and physically ill, but soon after, seemed miraculously cured and regained total clarity, with no explanation.  If you can overlook that, the book is a good read for anyone who enjoys action/adventure thrillers.  Frozen Solid is due to be published March 26, 2013.

This review is based on a digital ARC from the publisher.

Synopsis

In the city of Shadow, beneath the World Tree, alleyways shimmer with magic and godlings live hidden among mortalkind.  Oree Shoth, a blind artist, takes in a strange homeless man on an impulse.  This act of kindness engulfs Oree in a nightmarish conspiracy.  Someone, somehow, is murdering godlings, leaving their desecrated bodies all over the city.  And Oree’s guest is at the heart of it…

This is probably the briefest back of book blurb I’ve seen so far.  While the first book ended in a way where you don’t have to read the second book, it’s very self-contained, this blurb feels very…lackluster.  If you haven’t read the first book, this honestly isn’t a very exciting blurb.  On its own, it does nothing to really instill in me a want to read the book, in fact it almost feels like a thinly veiled romance.  However, if you did read the first book, then it’s painfully obvious who Oree’s mysterious guest is, so it still doesn’t do anything to really pull you in to want to read it.  We can guess, from the events of the first book, that her guest is Itempas, but the core plot of the story is very much glossed over.

First sentence:

Prologue: I remember that it was midmorning.

This kind of opening is actually more powerful than it initially seems.  We’re given POV from the start, and it tells us that the character is about to have a bit of a flashback moment to something in their past.  Prologues seem designed for flashback moments, so I’m not opposed to that.  But there’s something in the simple phrasing here.  Often when we think back to something traumatic or a very important moment in our lives, we focus first on some seemingly unimportant facet of that day.  The time of day, that your feet hurt, that you stubbed your toe that morning…Jemisin introducing the prologue, and the character, in this way showed (at least to me) how much she developed the character’s personality.

First Chapter: “Please help me,” said the woman.

Given the hints from the blurb and the events that take place in the prologue, I was expecting something a bit dramatic to start off the first chapter, maybe some action or danger or something.  It actually turned out to be something very mundane but also entertaining.  It helped set up Oree’s personality (considering the prologue is ten years earlier) and gives us a (at first) jovial opening to the story.  That quickly changes, though, as the body of a godling is soon discovered by Oree.
The Good:

Unlike Yeine of the first book, I actually liked Oree’s character.  I remember complaining in my review of Hundred Thousand Kingdoms that Yeine did not feel like a real person to me.  She was described as being one way, a warrior, but none of her actions reflected that at all.  I had a very hard time seeing the character I was told to see and it made it difficult for me to really care about her.

Oree, however, is far more developed.  She’s a blind artist, blind since birth, that can see magic.  There were times where magic was so strong it lit up her world and she could see almost like normal.  I believed she was blind, I believed it was something she’d been dealing with her whole life, I also believed in the personality we’re shown from the very beginning.  And because I could believe in her existence as a person, I cared far, far more for her as a character than I did for Yeine.

As seen with Oree as a character, Jemisin’s writing visibly improved between this book and the last.  The descriptions were far better, the character interactions were more genuine, I actually liked more than one character!  I liked Oree, Madding and even Itempas!  Also, the plot, while simple in nature, was very well done.

The Bad:

The sex scenes.  I’m no prude, far from it, but from a writing standpoint, the sex scenes in and of themselves were something of a paradox.  Reading them was like watching the writer write something she was only just becoming comfortable writing.  The sex scenes in The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms were brief and fairly subtle.  Here, she took a step further and while on one hand they were done well, on the other it seemed like she was testing unfamiliar waters.  For example, there are two sex scenes in the book and both have a ‘warm-up’ scene.  I’m not talking foreplay, I’m talking a separate sex scene, described in a paragraph or maybe only a few lines.  Subtle, but present.  And then, immediately following the conclusion of the first round, the characters wake up, talk a little bit and then go at it again, this time with a bit more detail.  There’s nothing innately wrong with that, but it always made the first scene feel like a warm-up, like the author’s first draft, and then we get to see her try a little harder at writing one.  Even though the second scenes were certainly better than the firsts, it made me question the purpose of the first one, especially since the second ones were better written.

Jemisin also has a developing habit, specifically do these scenes, of falling to a very ambiguous descriptor that just feels lazy.  “He did something else.”  In the first book, it was a frustrating description because it felt awkward and it felt like the author didn’t know what else to say, but the rest of the scene hadn’t been all that detailed so it was passable.  But in this book, if you’ve just described him ‘slipping into her as though he didn’t belong anywhere else’, I think you can come up with something a little better than ‘he did something else, something different, something new’.  It just feels lazy.

The very, very ending.  The resolution to the main conflict was fine, perfect even.  It made sense, it tied everything up in a neat little bow, and everyone (that lives) can move on.  Then we get to the part where we find out who the main character is telling this story to.  In the first book it was Goddess Yeine reflecting on everything.  In this book, this is a rather large spoiler here, it was Oree talking to her unborn child.  OF ITEMPAS’.  What?  Jemisin did such an amazing job building Oree and Itempas as friends, bffs that for better or worse had to rely on each other to get through their crazy situation.  They started off neutral, graduated to flat out disliking and at times hating one another, and then they reached a balance.  Jemisin also does an amazing job building Oree’s relationship with her actual love interest.  I believed in their romance, I was even rooting for them.  So when she sleeps with Itempas toward the end it felt a little forced.  I could believe it, because I wasn’t really believing they had feelings for one another, this was just Itempas trying something different and she was all for it.  Then we get to her being pregnant and talking to their unborn child hoping he’ll one day walk back through the door like they were some happy couple all along and that. Just. Felt. WRONG.  It felt forced and completely unnecessary.  I think my problem with the first book was that the romance between Yeine and Nahadoth felt unnecessary and forced, the same goes for Itempas and Oree, they worked much, much better as friends.  This leads me to believe that writing romance isn’t really Jemisin’s strong point.  Or, she really likes romance and tries to squeeze one in there always, oblivious to whether or not it actually belongs.  Either way, it doesn’t do her book any favors.  That ending really ticked me off.
The Unexpected:

As I read Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, I felt like I was supposed to like Nahadoth.  He was literally the god of shadows and was dark and broody and kind of cold-hearted but really a bit angsty and lonely and whatever.  If done right, that’d be right up my alley.  But he felt forced, he felt like the posterboy for the tragic hero that I’m supposed to love even though I really shouldn’t.  And so I didn’t.  I didn’t really care for him too much.  In fact, by the time I finished Hundred Thousand Kingdoms I was far more interested in Itempas as a character and not Nahadoth.  I wanted to learn more about him and his struggles, his personality.  It was that want that really drove me to pick up the sequel.

That being said, I wasn’t expecting to like him as much as I did.  Like Oree Vs Yeine, he felt, in comparison, like a far more developed character than Nahadoth.  He was a bit cold but also very aloof.  He was a fallen god that wasn’t ready to accept his new lot in life and so faced it with increasing indifference.  I believed that about him and it really drew me into his character.  I’d hoped to learn more about him and his personality and Jemisin delivered.  Which, to be honest, based on my experience with the first book, I wasn’t really expecting that.  There were several characters that I really liked.  With the first book Sieh was the only saving grace.  Here, I liked Oree (if we ignore the ending) I loved Itempas, I even liked Madding and some of the other godlings, like Lil.

All in all, I wasn’t expecting this book to pull me in as much as it did, I really, really enjoyed it.

Final Thoughts:

My final words on my review for The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms were : I am interested in seeing more of Itempas as a character, the last few pages did a wonderful job of showing me that there was more to him than some jerk of an older brother, but I do hope there is more to the story than a brooding, banished Skyfather who falls for some woman.

I have to say, excluding that very, very ending, Jemisin certainly delivered on that.  I had some doubts picking this book up but I devoured it.  I enjoyed far more than I did its predecessor and would certainly recommend it.  You don’t have to read the first book to read the second, the final events of the first book are explained in this one (summarized rather nicely).  But, we’re told to see Itempas one way, through the eyes of those characters in the first book, so I think that initial image of him provides a nice contrast when we get to this book.  It’s your call.  I loved this book and I am very eager to read book three.  If Jemisin’s writing continues to improve, coupled with the fact that Sieh (my favorite character in the series thus far) is a main character, the third book should be great and I really hope it doesn’t disappoint.

Also, I recall mentioning that Jemisin’s way of telling the story, the flashback moments mixed through out in the first book were at first interesting but quickly felt abused.  No such case in this book.  The element is still there but no where near as strong.  It also feels refined, like the author took the time to really consider where those moments would work without bashing us over the head with ‘Oh wait, I totally forgot to mention…!’

All in all, a great book.  I’ll be reviewing the final book in the series soon!

About the Book

Review: Seventeen-year-old Scarlett Blaine is far from the average young woman. She has undertaken the responsibility of running her household and it’s starting to get to her. Her brother Cliff has never been “normal,” Grandpop Barley is a compulsive peanut butter eater whose mind isn’t what it used to be and her sister Juli has become a free spirit who no longer confides in Scarlett. What’s a girl to do? Cliff’s answer is that Scarlett dreads the idea of growing up. Things are complicated further when Scarlett falls for the guy who is crushing on Juli, her parent’s encounter financial difficulties and Cliff insists on building a rocket to Jupiter… life couldn’t be any crazier, right? It’s not until her whole world is threatened that Scarlett begins to realize she needs more than earthly help.

It puzzles me to no end why I’d never heard of teen novelist Rachel Coker until now. Introduced to her by my wonderful friend, Rosie, I was taken aback at the glowing reviews, forgot about it, and was then offered a copy through DJC Communications – to whom I extend many thanks! Already Rachel has an impressive résumé and if only one word were to describe (as impossible as this is) Rachel’s sophomore novel, it’d be unique. Missing from the story is any hint of a feel-good vibe because its impact is meant to go deeper – to  emotionally touch its reader – than the average teen novel. Unlike the majority of YA fiction, there is no love triangle or flying creatures, just straight-forward, “solid” writing centering what could have otherwise been a story thought too quirky for the happy-ending sort of reader.

Every single one of these characters is quirky albeit memorable in their own way. Cliff is a compulsive kid in nearly everything he does and is hard to “understand” as a result. Favorite parts within these pages include the relationship between the fun (and underused!) character of Mrs. Greene and Scarlett. Shades of the best-selling novel, The Help vividly comes to mind during these portions of the book, bringing thoughts of Minny and Celia’s endearing story into play. There’s a hilarious scene involving a chicken and some great conversations between them. It’s in these moments that Coker’s writing voice is best. Written in the first person, this is unarguably the most mature, well thought-out novel I’ve ever read in this prose. There’s wit and tears in equal measure but the voice of Scarlett is never lost in all that drama. Her struggle is real and relatable to any young person if they’ve ever “gone along” (for the sake of their parents) with the spiritual traditions they’ve been brought up with. Likewise, Scarlett’s transformation of realizing she is not as indestructible as she thinks is heartfelt. The only flaw I found a bit rushed was the “epilogue.” It reads a bit too hurried for my tastes, even though I am a big fan of that “last word,” I prefer it being more fleshed out.

Not only is what is on the inside worth discovering, this cover jacket is stunning! The book is beautifully designed, it’s a hardback and the concept is perfection complementing the story in every sense. Written with maturity and appearing on the Christian fiction scene with a fresh voice, Rachel has the makings of a long career with endorsements that are wonderfully favorable. She’s got a knack for story-telling, and if Chasing Jupiter is any indication, she isn’t going to be disappearing from the book shelves of stores anytime soon. It’s moving and remarkably poignant. Bravo, Rachel.

Synopsis: Scarlett Blaine’s life in 1960s Georgia isn’t always easy, especially given her parents’ financial struggles and the fights surrounding her sister Juli’s hippie lifestyle. Then there’s her brother, Cliff. While Scarlett loves him more than anything, there’s no denying his unique behavior leaves Cliff misunderstood and left out. So when he wishes for a rocket to Jupiter, Scarlett agrees to make it happen, no matter how crazy the idea might be. Raising the rocket money means baking pies, and the farmer’s son, Frank, agrees to provide the peaches if Scarlett will help him talk to Juli. The problem is, Scarlett really enjoys her time with Frank, and finds herself wondering if, someday, they could be more than friends. Just as she thinks everything might be going her way, Cliff suffers an accident that not only affects the rocket plans, but shakes Scarlett’s view of God. As the summer comes to an end, Scarlett must find a way to regain what she’s lost, but also fulfill a promise to launch her brother’s dream.

This is going to be a new series in addition to my ‘Talking Film’ posts. These ‘Just been to see’ posts will be pretty much how they sound – I will talk about films I’m literally just back from the cinema watching.

Wentworth Miller – Hidden depths

This might be my favourite film I’ve seen at the cinema so far this year. It’s from Chan-wook Park who directed the unforgettable Oldboy (2003) and written by Wentworth Miller: yeah, the surely too handsome-to-be-smart Micheal Schofield from Prison Break (2005). Turns out Miller is very smart, he graduated from Princeton university with a degree in English Literature but with this film he proves he’s so much more than a degree holder and an actor I really enjoy watching. He’s a writing talent to really watch out for too. This film is superbly written, drawing influences from classic vampire literature, Gothic fiction and classic suspense cinema like Psycho. It’s a potent mix that splices elements from all the over the place into an extremely compelling, seductive and gloriously murderous piece of cinema.

It stars Mia Wasikowska (featured on the poster at the top) who I remember really liking in Jane Eyre (2011) and Albert Nobbs (2011), however, this is her best role I’ve seen her in to date. She is India Stoker – a young lady on the cusp of becoming a woman at 18. We see her years marked in pairs of identical – except for size – white and black leather shoes that she keeps in her bedroom. These shoes take on a symbolism all their own in the film representing India’s youth running around her parent’s mansion and exploring the woods that surround it throughout the years. She makes a refreshingly independent female protagonist that exudes intelligence beneath a cold exterior. We only see her interact with people her own age a handful of times and in all of these instances she comes across as an outsider; uninterested in the teenage life, she seems older in mind than her appearance would suggest and Wasikowska captures this subtlety wonderfully. India is maturing into a woman and when the older character of Charlie, her dead father’s brother, enters the story a dangerous air of attraction is palpable between the two.

Matthew Goode – charming yet unsettling

Charlie is played by Matthew Goode, who was great in Watchmen (2009) and A Single Man (2009) yet still, I think this is my favourite performance from him so far. Here he plays a creepy-yet-attractive uncle and echoes an inner madness like a more suave Norman Bates in his wonderfully layered performance. He goes from charming to terrifying on a wildly swinging pendulum. India’s odd attraction to Charlie is where the film finds most of its drama and devilishly satisfying plot twists. I won’t give away anything.

Chan-wook Park brings his idiosyncratically stylish directing style to the film. Along with his director of photography Chung-Hoon Chung he beautifully captures unexpected details like the way India carefully unties her shoelaces contrasted with the way she tosses tubs of ice cream carelessly into a freezer box. These details are appreciated as they add to India’s character without her having to say anything – I love that. The best directors can place their own authorial stamp on a film much like a novelist or a poet and Park definitely does that here. One of my favourite sequences in the film involves India brushing her mother’s hair and talking about how she used to go hunting with her father. The way this scene transitions into a memory through the artful blending of the texture of Nicole Kidman’s red hair with the swaying green brushes of long leaves from India’s forest hunting trip – is stunning. This artistic transition wasn’t really needed to tell they story but the extra effort visually frames the past and the present as interconnected and was an unexpectedly wonderful treat in an already great film.

The score of the film is handled by Clint Mansell who made one of my favourite films scores ever for Duncan Jones’ Moon (2009) and he does great work here too. In one scene the camera follows India as she makes her way through the dark basement of the mansion and the combination of dark visuals and foreboding music creates a very gothic feel to the whole thing. In any other film where a character is asked to put some ice cream in a freezer, it probably wouldn’t even be shown, however, Stoker finds mystery in the mundane and transforms a chore into an eerily terrifying journey into the unknown depths of an old house.

I’ve said all I say on the film for now, without spoiling any overarching details of the plot so I will leave you with a hearty recommendation to see this film. See this film at all costs before it leaves your local cinema and have the chance to witness a uniquely compelling piece of suspenseful film making that just doesn’t come around too often.

Darran Murphy

The Last of Us releases on June 14 for the PS3 and by the looks of it, a great way to bring in the new PS4.

Country Focus: South Africa

Agaat
By Marlene Van Niekerk
Translated by Michiel Heyns
Originally published in Afrikaans by Tafelberg Publishers, 2004.
My edition: Tin House Books, 2010.
576 pgs.

Genre: Fiction
Time period: 1953-1996

World Lit Up Rating:
(On a scale of 1-5, with 1 book = turned off and 5 books = lit up)

Milla De Wet lies paralyzed in her bed on her South African farm.  Her husband died years ago, her son lives in Canada, and she refuses care from anyone other than her steadfast servant, Agaat.  She communicates with Agaat by blinking; only her eyelids have eluded paralysis.  Despite her own disability – a shrunken, deformed right hand – Agaat skillfully and dutifully attends to her white Ounooi‘s every need.

Much to Milla’s consternation, Agaat has found her diaries from decades ago and begun reading them aloud.  The entries evoke a past that Milla is none too happy to revisit, including memories of her resentful husband Jak, her distant relationship with her son Jakkie, and a whirl of complex emotions involving Agaat.

The crux of Van Niekerks’ novel is this:  How did Agaat come to live on the De Wet farm and garner so much attention from Milla?  Milla’s concern and devotion to her black housegirl defies convention in apartheid-era South Africa.  Her behavior confuses and offends her husband and neighbors, all strong adherents to their country’s system of racial segregation.

By weaving Milla’s diary entries around her narration of her bed-bound present, her silent reminiscences of as far back as 1953, and some stream-of-consciousness indicative of her oncoming mental meltdown, Van Niekert gradually coaxes Agaat’s mysterious past out of Milla.  The story’s climax is as upsetting as it is satisfying and stands as a testament to the evils of apartheid.

Milla is an astoundingly complex creation.  She plays the victim as readily as she victimizes others.  Agaat elicits a whirlwind of emotions from her: cruelty, awe, jealousy, suspicion, detachment and protection.   A guarded pride in Agaat suffuses Milla’s thoughts; the abilities she attributes to the girl make Agaat seem superhuman.

If only Van Niekerk could have more ruthlessly edited the Milla’s tedious descriptions of bathtime, bed pan emptying, and lung clearing.  These portions of the novel could do double duty as an invalid care nursing handbook.  These medical details may testify to Agaat’s competence and devotion to Milla, but I thought they bogged down an otherwise compelling read.

Quote:

27 May 1955
Jak says we must make A. [Agaat] move in with Dawid and them and accustom her to her own people.  The sooner the better he says, the child will grow up messed-up, she has no playmates.  As if he cared one scrap about that.  But he is right when he says the white children who come here don’t know any better, they think she’s farm stock & then they snub her.
I protest!  She’s an exceptional somebody & she’s developed from the grimmest misery out of just about nothing.  Every day I have reason to believe that all my trouble and dedication were not in vain & that the faith I had in the matter and every drop of sweat and tears that I put into her has now started bearing fruit.  Everything has a purpose, I say to Jak, she’s been given to me to learn something about myself.  To learn what it is that really matters in this life.  Jak says I sound like a Jehovah’s Witness on Eau de Cologne.  He says he thought I’d achieved total illumination some time ago and it’s not a matter of A. because all I can talk about is myself & I can really spare him my sickly sentimental stories they give him a pain because all he sees in front of him is the worst case of megalomania & control freakery south of the Sahara.

_________________________________________________________

Keep Reading!

I’m not too sure this is a good move from Capcom due to the fact that E3 is taking place the week after and the highly-anticipated game, The Last of Us, is being released on June 14. It also might get lost amongst the buzz surrounding the new console(s) and other larger next-gen games in the weeks heading up to E3.

What I do know is not much has been shown of the game and there hasn’t been too much chatter on gaming sites about Remember Me. That is usually not a good sign. But, who knows, this game might infiltrate our minds and manipulate us into liking it. I’m always down for a good sci-fi game.

Remember Me will be available on Xbox 360, PS3, and PC. To see more about Remember Me, click this link.

Samantha Durante lives in Westchester County, New York with her husband, Sudeep, and her cat, Gio.  Formerly an engineer at Microsoft, Samantha left the world of software in 2010 to pursue her entrepreneurial dreams and a lifelong love of writing.  A graduate of the University of Pennsylvania’s Jerome Fisher Program in Management & Technology, Samantha is currently working full time for her company Medley Media Associates as a freelance business writer and communications consultant.  Stitch is her first novel.  Learn more about Samantha at www.samanthadurante.com.

Teri:  Where did you get the idea for Stitch?

Samantha:  Stitch is an amalgamation of lots of different elements that I loved from other stories – paranormal romance, ghosts, dystopian societies, strong female leads, mind-binding twists, etc. – that I wanted to see if I could fit into one book! I started with the idea of a ghost romance, but couldn’t figure out how to get the main characters into the same place at the same time… until one crazy idea occurred to me (which I can’t elaborate on without spoiling the twist!). I was super excited about it because as a reader I’d never seen it done before, so I knew I had my idea.

Teri:  Did you always plan for Stitch to begin as paranormal and evolve into dystopian?

Samantha:  Well, that wasn’t the idea from the very beginning – it initially started just as this romance between a college girl and the ghost haunting her sorority. But I’m a sucker for happy endings, and I wanted them to end up together, and I couldn’t figure out how to do it in a way that made sense and was really satisfying. I thought of time travel, or them living on some kind of spiritual plane together, or bringing him back from the dead somehow, but those all seemed a little too kooky to me – plus, these characters are both very attached to their families, so I didn’t see them wanting to leave their entire lives behind just to be together. Since Stitch was my first book, I wanted a story idea that I was really and truly excited about, something that I’d want to read but hadn’t been able to find before. So that’s when the idea of bringing in the dystopian aspect of it occurred to me, and that part is what really makes the book special I think.

Teri:  What do you like best and least about your main character, Alessa?

Samantha:  Great question! Best is that she’s strong and resourceful and determined – she sets her mind to something and she gets it done. Least is that she can be a bit moody – she’s not as easy to love as, say, Janie (her best friend), because a lot of times she’s not bubbly, she’s not super outgoing or friendly, and she’s a lot more reserved. It takes a lot for Alessa to let her guard down. But once she does, she’s loyal to a fault and will do anything for the people she loves – so I think that makes up for being a little more serious and less fun-loving!

Teri:  What was the hardest part about writing, publishing, and marketing your book?

Samantha:  The hardest part is definitely the marketing – and I’m still figuring that all out! Once I had the idea for the book, I came up with a detailed chapter-by-chapter outline which made the writing easy, and since I’d decided to self-publish, the publishing part was pretty simple, just figuring out e-book formatting (which I’ll admit was VERY frustrating and took hours to get right) and making sure I’d edited well. But the marketing – WOW. It’s SO time-consuming. I really never imagined how much time I would spend emailing with bloggers and meeting people through social media, writing tons of guest posts and interviews and character posts, and just generally trying to find new outlets to tell readers about the book. You can do it full-time and still not even make a dent – I put anywhere from 1-4 hours a day into marketing Stitch, and in the meantime I’m still trying to run my own business! BUT, the good part is that the marketing is also really fun – this is when I get to interact with readers and hear their reactions to the book, and I’ve been wholly welcomed by the wonderful book blogging community, so it’s really been an incredible experience to see so many people excited about Stitch!

Teri:  Since you self-published Stitch, did you have a marketing plan ahead of time?

Samantha:  Yes, I did come up with a marketing plan ahead of time, but that plan is constantly evolving and growing and changing. There are just so many variables to play with in terms of pricing and promotion schedules and giveaways and publicity and selling channels – and so far, I can’t seem to find any rhyme or reason as to why Stitch’s sales fluctuate the way they do! So for now I’ve given up on worrying about sales and am just concentrating on building a relationship with readers, since that’s more fun anyway.

Teri:  Do you see a need for reviewers for self-published authors?

Samantha:  Oh, ABSOLUTELY! One of the places I’ve spent the most time on marketing is trying to find bloggers who are open to submissions from independent authors – a surprising number of blogs will not even consider self-published books at all, and the ones that do are so flooded with requests that a lot of times they can’t accept even if they’d like to (there are only so many hours in the day, after all!). So it can be difficult to get your foot in the door. But at the same time, I think a lot of bloggers realize this and are still super supportive of indie authors, so many will offer to do some kind of non-review promotion or refer you to other bloggers even if they can’t review, which can really be just as helpful as a review! As with anything, persistence is key!

Teri:  Tell us 5 things about yourself that are different.

Samantha:  I’m really pretty normal (I have a husband and a cat, I like to read and watch TV, etc.), so this is hard! But here are the things that are most different/notable about me:
1. I actually studied engineering and business in college and then went into the software industry for work, so I’ve only been writing professionally for a couple years now, even though I always loved to write.
2. I was valedictorian of my high school.
3. The only way I can seem to exercise consistently is by playing team sports. My favorite is basketball, but I also play hard and tend to get a lot of fouls, so then I started playing full contact sports like rugby and roller derby where I don’t get into so much trouble with the refs!
4. I love the color blue, but to an abnormal degree. (Case in point: about 80% of the walls in my house are a different shade of blue.)
5. My favorite food group is dairy, and I’d happily eat milk and cheese with every meal (I often do!). In fact, I ate so much dairy as a kid that my doctor told me I’d one day develop an intolerance to lactose. Luckily, so far I have proven him wrong.

Thank you so much for the interview, Samantha!  Stitch can be purchased in paperback and Kindle respectively at the following links:

http://www.amazon.com/Stitch-Trilogy-Book-1/dp/0985804602/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1361983424&sr=8-1&keywords=stitch+samantha+durante

http://www.amazon.com/Stitch-Trilogy-Book-ebook/dp/B008RC3NAM/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1361983424&sr=8-2&keywords=stitch+samantha+durante

I definitely fall into the latter category. While I can’t say I’ve watched the Oscars every year since birth, I can say that I’ve watched them every year since I can remember, except for one year that I (amazingly) forgot, and I (unsurprisingly) cried a little when I realized. Basically the Oscars are my Super Bowl.

This post won’t be about how host Seth McFarlane lived up to my expectations (mediocre and frequently offensive), or how the broadcast was less satisfying than other years, mostly due a severe lack of cutaways to audience reactions (Stop showing me Seth! Show me more Meryl, Bradley, George, Naomi, anybody!), or about what in the hell Anne Hathaway was wearing.

This post will be about women in Hollywood and how delightful it is to slowly, steadily, witness the subtle diversification of Women on the Red Carpet.

In case slowly, steadily, etc., didn’t drive it home, allow me to further temper this observation. What we are witnessing is not a magical utopia of women of All Shapes and Sizes strutting their stuff toward the Dolby Theater. The prevailing silhouettes are still slim, young, and white. However, in 2013, it felt like there were more alternatives to slim, young, and white than there have been in years past. Here are a few of my favorites:

Before you get all uppity about how Jessica Chastain is slim, young, and white, allow me to counter you with a few key points. Yes, she is young, but she isn’t Super Young. According to IMDB, she is about to turn 36, which is an unusual time for a woman to develop her fame. To wit: 36 is not someone you would refer to as a starlet. She is simply, and more accurately, a star.

She is also slim, yes, but she is healthy slim and not crazy slim, and I love the realness of her – the softness of her arms, the subtle wrinkles by her eyes – and how she is not fighting it tooth and nail until she looks like starved, wet fowl injected with food coloring.

As for white, I have no counter. Girl is white as all get out. Some of the people I mention will be white.

…Such as Hugh Jackman’s wife. Yes, she is not Hollywood herself, but she is married to Hollywood, and often times that is enough to make women feel they need to meet certain physical requirements.

Sure, she’s getting some flak for the ponytail, but oh how I love her pants suit and how I love Hugh Jackman for loving her and probably loving her pants suit as well, and every time I see them together it helps me un-see just a little bit more LA phony madness.

Okay, so this in’t the bombshell Salma that we’re used to, but nothing can truly contain those curves. Maybe it’s curmudgeonly of me, but I wanted to punch Seth McF in the face after his asinine ‘accents are hard to understand but who cares when she’s hot’ “joke” as a method of introducing her. In a battle of the wits between those two, my money is on Salma every time.

I really want this picture to speak for itself, but I do have to say this: Tiny meets Statuesque and it was black sparkly midnight magic.

Kerry Washington in motion…. The more I see this dress, the more I like it. I especially like it here, in its candid fluidity that showcases the wee lass’ athleticism and grace.

Ugh, just look at her. Pure class. Every time. There is a reason we call her Queen. Also I have never been a hater of white dresses on the red carpet. It’s antiquated and reductive to claim that white gown = wedding dress. This is not a wedding dress. This is a gorgeous woman in a gorgeous gown.

Thank you, Sally Field, for not relegating the drama of the evening to a younger woman’s wardrobe. You are slightly batty, even by actress standards, but this dress was a brave, savvy choice. Your saccharine-saturated apprentice should stop studying your oh-so-sweet speeches and take some cues from your fashion sense instead.

I know, I know. Shirley Bassey was only there for the Bond tribute, to blow us all over with her performance of Goldfinger. She’s more Motown than Hollywood. Still. Can we make this a thing? Can we arrange for phenomenal, seasoned vocalists to be at the Oscars every year? So they can show up looking amazing and add some pizzazz to the broadcast while they’re at it?

This dress is not my style. I would never choose this dress for me. But for Kelly Rowland, this dress is perfect. She is strong, and lovely, and was a consummate interviewer on the red carpet. Her enthusiasm was genuine and friendly, and her bangs make me want to abandon the side-sweep I have going in exchange for this bold, blunt perfection.
While she is slim, young, and white, I do have to take a moment for Jennifer Lawrence. What she brought to the Oscars last night (and keeps bringing to all that she does), is authenticity. The girl is talented, as humble as an actress can be, and unguarded in a way that Hollywood does not typically support. It helps that she keeps making buckets of money for everyone, but I’m confident that we never, ever have to worry about her turning into this.

After being nearly murdered by a ghost, most people would want to take things easy, but not Rory. Rory is tired of therapy and her parents treating her with kid’s gloves. She wants to get back in the ghost game, but her old team has disappeared. Then there’s the murder not far from Rory’s old school…

It’s hard for me to express what a fantastic thing Maureen Johnson has created with The Madness Underneath because on the surface it seems to be an ordinary contemporary supernatural young adult book.  What makes it so extraordinary is the realism of setting and characters, the slightly insane twists of Rory’s view of the world, and the fact that it does not follow the cookie-cutter plot you will find in most novels of the same genre.

While reading The Madness Underneath I had the distinct impression that I had curled up inside Rory’s head and was watching her life progress through her eyes. Although I have never been to England, I felt as if I was walking along its streets with her. The characters were not characters so much as real people with real flaws and real issues.

No character is as fleshed out as the protagonist Rory whose perspectives on ordinary situations are amusing in a terrifying kind of way. The way she describes eating at a small restaurant in particular had me laughing but also made me feel a little wide-eyed because she’s right…she’s totally right but I never thought of it that way before. It’s probably a strange thing to enjoy, but I think Rory’s commentary on everyday life was one of my favourite aspects of this book. It was at those moments that I could hear Maureen Johnson’s voice the clearest.

Finally, if you’re looking for a book that you’ll be able to see every twist and turn to the plot, stay far, far away from The Madness Underneath. I pride myself on my ability to be able to reason out what will happen in a book: I’ve read enough to be able to see most plot twists by the first quarter of a book. Believe me when I say you are not prepared. You will never be prepared. You can only read and then wander around in shock as everything you held to be true is ripped away.

In short, read The Shades of London series, even if you are not regularly a fan of a contemporary or supernatural novels: Maureen Johnson’s novels are a force of their own that must be experienced to be believed.

Don’t just take my word for it!

“The second installment of the Shades of London series will astonish and scare readers of all ages, and may actually make the YA readersphere explode with emotions.” – Angel @ Mermaid Visions

“After all is said and done, I think The Madness Underneath is a solid follow up to The Name of the Star as Maureen Johnson definitely added some new plot threads to the Shades of London series.” – Bookish Comforts

Did I miss your review? Link me and I’ll add yours! Add me on goodreads (be sure to let me know in the comments that you’ve added me) to have your reviews linked automatically.

Juliette thought that the worse was behind her. Safe within the compound of revolutionaries with powers like her and a boyfriend who could safely touch her, she thought she had found somewhere she could belong, but with a determined Warner still searching for her, and Adam keeping secrets from her, Juliette’s struggles are just beginning.

I loved Shatter Me so much that I thought there was no possible way that Unravel Me could live up to my expectations, but once again Tahereh Mafi blew me away with her  emotionally-charged prose, her perfectly imperfect characters, and her mind-whirling plot twists. Impossibly, I think I love Unravel Me even more than Shatter Me.

This was my first time reading one of Mafi’s novels (last time I listened to the audiobook), so I was a little worried about how that would affect my experience, but the flow of Mafi’s words were just as musical on page. Some books have a line or two that really stands out as heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Every line in Unravel Me is this way. Every word is so unbelievably perfect that sometimes I just had to stop reading and just stare at the page like “is this real? How could this possible be real? How did a real person actually right this?” If you’re a writer and ever wanted to feel even more useless than usual, read this book.

Don’t even get me started on the characters. I am in love with every single one of them in a way that is so not healthy. I spent chapters reading in utter terror that something bad would happen to someone. Some authors can kill off a couple secondary characters, and it hurts a little bit but you can get over it because at least it’s not your favourite character. All of the characters in this book are my favourite character. I don’t care if that isn’t logical: this is how it is. If someone can read this book and manage not to fall in love with all of the characters, please teach me your ways because I can’t. I actually can’t.

Finally, the plot twists are FANTASTIC. They are the kind of plot twists that you don’t exactly see coming, but when they do happen you find yourself shouting, “THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE!” They are the kind of plot twists that will have you running to Twitter because everyone must know immediately all the feels you are having because you will have all the feels.

This book is like getting punched in the face repeatedly by a puppy: it hurts, but in the end you just want to cuddle it close and love it forever. I am so ready for book three. It cannot come soon enough!

Don’t just take my word for it!

“Mafi’s writing continues to be crazy addictive and her storyline is that wonderful blend of dystopian+supernatural that I cannot get enough of.” – Lisa is Busy Nerding

“A heart racing sequel that will have you on the edge of your seat, begging for more.” Christa @ More Than Just Magic

“Tahereh you have stolen my heart with this series, and I am so scared to see how this will all end!” – Andrea @ Cozy Up with a Good Read

Did I miss your review? Link me and I’ll add yours! Add me on goodreads (be sure to let me know in the comments that you’ve added me) to have your reviews linked automatically.