My Crystal Ball's a Little Cloudy

Thought for the day: Wise old ladies don't plan too far into the future. [me]

Yep. It's that time again.Time for our monthly IWSG posts. As always, thanks to our fearless leader, Alex Cavanaugh, for founding this fine group, and thanks to all the other nurturing guys and gals who've helped turn it into the thriving community it is today. I'm telling ya, this group offers better support and lift than the world's most expensive bra. (No pesky underwires, either!) To join this super supportive group of writers and to see links to other participating blogs, please go HERE

Writing is still taking a back seat right now, but with the end of scheduled chemo and radiation now in sight, if all goes well, maybe I can invite my muse back into my life after the first of the year. We shall see.

In the meantime, I'm gonna vent a little. As I write this, it is Saturday afternoon, and maybe the issue will be resolved prior to the publication of this post on Wednesday, but I'm gonna spit it out anyway.

I firmly believe in writing and posting a review after reading a book, because I KNOW how important that feedback is to writers...  especially the insecure ones. (Which pretty much means ALL of us.) Typically, I post on both Goodreads and Amazon, and to date, I've posted a bazillion of 'em with no problems.

Until now.

For some reason, Amazon has rejected my last four reviews. I tried resolving the problem via email messaging with someone in customer service this past week, but that didn't go well. I ended up getting an email the next day from someone with Amazon in INDIA... saying I needed to have a password-protected account in INDIA... and spend such-and-such amount of money per year on INDIA Amazon before I could post a review.

HUH???

Last time I looked, I've never even BEEN in India. (Musta been some other Susan Swiderski...)

My attempt to respond to that email proved worthless, so I hope to resolve the issue via telephone next week. I mean... what the heck? I'm curious: have any of you encountered the same issue? 'Tis annoying...

At any rate, I'm gonna tell you guys about one of those rejected book reviews, because I think You Beneath Your Skin is well worth promoting. It's the brilliant debut from one of our very own IWSG members, the talented Damyanti Biswas. Not only is her book an eye-opener about the horrors of  acid attacks on women and the dismal living conditions and difficulties for the poverty-stricken children of India, but it's also a thought-provoking story of self-identity and inner strength... and it's beautifully well-written. But wait! That's not all...  All proceeds from book sales are being donated to organizations that help these women and children. We can't all be Mother Teresa, but we can all benefit by becoming aware of the issues that so touched her heart. If you treat yourself to a book this Christmas, I humbly suggest this one.

Now, for this month's question:

Let's play a game. Imagine. Role-play. How would you describe your future writer self, your life and what it looks and feels like if you were living the dream? Or if you are already there, what does it look and feel like? Tell the rest of us. What would you change or improve?

I think Snoopy's got the right idea.

To tell the truth, I don't look too far into the future, especially since Smarticus got diagnosed. I'm taking each day as it comes and making the best of it. Besides, I'm getting old enough that I have to seriously consider whether or not it's a waste of money to buy green bananas from the grocery store... (HA! Just kidding on that one. It's perfectly safe to buy green bananas, no matter how old you are. More likely than not, they'll be overripe by the time you get them home, anyway...)

Seriously, if I'm gonna imagine the future me living the writer's dream... it'd be great if a kind-hearted publisher read my books and knocked on my door like The Millionaire used to do on the old TV show. He can keep his money, though. I just want him to fall so in love with my books that he wants to publish and promote the second two books in my trilogy. Heck, if you're gonna dream, might as well dream big, eh? (If he wants to toss some moolah into the deal, I guess that'd be okeydoke, too...)

                               Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

The Voices are Crystal Clear

Thought for the day:  I think I did pretty well, considering I started out with nothing but a bunch of blank paper. [Steve Martin]

Here we are again. It's the first Wednesday of yet another month, which means it's time for another gathering of the Insecure Writer's Support Group, the inspired brain child of ninja writer Alex Cavanaugh. For hundreds of writers all over the world, the support starts here. 

Here, we can air our concerns, and share our successes. Want to join us? To sign up, or just to find links to the posts written by other members this month, please go HERE.

Now then, what do I want to bellyache about bring up for discussion this month?

REVIEWS!

Yes, I know we can't put too much stock in reviews. But come on; admit it. Don't you do a serious get-down-and-boogie happy dance every time someone writes a fantastic review of your book, especially if that review shows (s)he got your book, and by extension, got you? That's validation in the highest degree, people!

So here's my beef. Why, oh why, oh why do people tell me how much they loved my book, and tell me they're going to write a review right away... and then never do? As a suitably insecure writer, when I know for a fact someone is reading my book, but they don't follow up by posting a review, I assume they hated the book, and don't want to hurt my feelings by telling the world how much it sucks. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who reacts this way.) But when people actually take the time to send me an email to declare their love for my book and promise a review that never happens... I don't get it.  

There. Rave over.

Now for this month's question: What is your favorite aspect of being a writer?

When the muse is pushing me forward at warp speed, and the voices in my head are crystal clear, that's pretty darned exciting, but I think my favorite part is getting positive feedback from readers. Knowing that readers can relate to your story, and laugh at the things you think are funny, and cry at the things you think are sad, is to me, the greatest reward of all. (Even if they don't write reviews!)

Okay, it's time to strike up the band and throw some sparkly confetti as we celebrate the much-anticipated release of the final book of Crystal Collier's Timeless trilogy. I'm going to go ahead and close out my portion of the post, and let Crystal take it away. NOTE: This is the only post for this week, but I'll be back again NEXT Friday, Hope to see you then.

                                        Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
                                                  And read Crystal's books... they're great!

Welcome Crystal Collier here today to share her brand new book!

Title: TIMELESS

Series: Maiden of Time, #3

Author: Crystal Collier

Pages: 253

Publication: November 1, 2016

Publisher: Raybourne Publishing

ISBN: 9781629830056



TIME IS THE ENEMY.


In 1771, Alexia had everything: the man of her dreams, reconciliation with her father, even a child on the way. But she was never meant to stay. It broke her heart, but Alexia heeded destiny and traveled five hundred years back to stop the Soulless from becoming.


In the thirteenth century, the Holy Roman Church has ordered the Knights Templar to exterminate the Passionate, her bloodline. As Alexia fights this new threat—along with an unfathomable evil and her own heart—the Soulless genesis nears. But none of her hard-won battles may matter if she dies in childbirth before completing her mission.


Can Alexia escape her own clock?

Buy: Amazon | B&N

What reviewers are saying:

“A magical, fast-paced, romantic adventure…” --T. Drecker, Bookworm for Kids


“A story of love...true and forbidden love. There's mystery…tension, action...everything.” –Chrys Fey, author of Ghost of Death


"SWOON." --Sherlyn, Mermaid with a Book Reviewer

Alexia had assumed his home was a
hut in some local village. “Where is it you came from?”

Deamus motioned upward.

Alexia followed his aim to the
warming sky, stars fading. “From the stars?”

Both hands disappeared behind his
back as he considered her closely. Something in his stare solidified, and he
leaned forward, lifting an arm and pointing. “There. Out beyond those lights
waits another earth, one where…where we live without fear. Only those with Passionate
blood dwell there.”

The idea whirled her head like a top
he was spinning just to watch her grow dizzy.

Amos stepped between them. “Tell me
about this place.”

Deamus backed away, gaze shifting
shyly to the ground.

Alexia touched his arm. “Tell me.”

“The other land was created long ago by a powerful man.
There has never been a man more powerful.”

To create an entire world… Alexia
still couldn’t quite fathom it. Only God possessed that kind of power.

“When humanity began destroying…the
Passionate, he knew he had to stop them.” He brought his fists together and
pulled them apart to illustrate. “It would mean separating two worlds. He
studied and gathered and worked for decades to make his dream a reality, and at
last, he did it.”

Alexia gave him a skeptical frown.
“Separated two worlds out of one?”

“I heard me somethin’ like this
story before.” Regin scratched his chin. “Weren’t there two sons and some kind
of battle?”

Deamus stilled and shifted away as
if he’d forgotten about his larger audience.

“Do continue,” Alexia urged.

“A bridge was erected, a bridge of
light that allowed our kind to pass over, but the cost of channeling so much
power was the man’s life.” Deamus bit his lip. His chin shook and he looked
away. Quiet accosted them. Alexia wondered if he would continue when he
straightened his shoulders, lips puckered in a frown. “He left two sons.” He
gave a quick nod at Regin. “Both studied his arts and followed in his path, but
one was tempted and drawn into dark powers, the kind that consume the soul.” A
line appeared between his eyebrows. “The other watched over and protected the
Passionate—mostly from his brother.”

Alexia glanced up at the
disappearing stars and shivered, feeling suddenly very small. “And how do you
know of this other world?”

Deamus’s head tilted, hope shimmering in his
gaze. “It is my home.”

READ MORE EXCERPTS

Crystal Collier is an eclectic author who pens clean fantasy/sci-fi, historical, and romance stories with the occasional touch of humor, horror, or inspiration. She practices her brother-induced ninja skills while teaching children or madly typing about fantastic and impossible creatures. She has lived from coast to coast and now calls Florida home with her creative husband, four littles, and “friend” (a.k.a. the zombie locked in her closet). Secretly, she dreams of world domination and a bottomless supply of cheese.

Find her online HERE.

(Email address is required for awarding prizes.)

How's About a Brawny Brain?

Thought for the day:  When I was younger, I looked forward to getting up early every morning to exercise. Nowadays, getting out of bed in the morning pretty much IS my exercise.

Remember the Charles Atlas ads that used to appear in the back of comic books? According to good ol' Wikipedia, the ad shown here is from about 1949,  but the ones I remember best featured 98-pound weakling Mac, who was forever getting sand kicked in his face at the beach. Poor guy. The ads promised to turn Mac and every other skinny boy in America into a muscle-bound chick-magnet. (That's what boys all over America read between the lines, anyhow.) All they had to do was buy the kit, follow the directions, and bada-boom, bada-bing,  they'd develop abs of iron and buns of steel.

I really don't think I need buns of steel. I'd be happy with buns of cinnamon...  [Ellen DeGeneres]

Yeah. What Ellen said.

Not that I'd mind having a sleek body again, but I don't know how much exercise I'm willing to do to get it back. I mean, we bought a membership in a really nice gym a couple years ago. Spent almost five hundred bucks on it, too, and I still haven't lost any weight. (sigh) What can I say? Apparently, you have to actually show up at the place. Wouldn't you think spending all that money would be good for a pound or two...? Oh well. Doesn't really matter. At my age, I'm more concerned about having a fit brain. Having a fit brain is much more important to me than having a twenty-two inch waist.

 I don't recall ever seeing any ads in the back of comic books offering a kit to help us beef up our gray matter, but it sure would be nice if there were a way to keep our brains in shape so they can continue to do the heavy lifting throughout our lifetimes, wouldn't it?

There IS a way! Lots of 'em. Reading, of course. Stimulating conversation.

I consider conversations with people to be mind exercises, but I don't want to pull a muscle, so I stretch a lot. That's why I'm constantly either rolling my eyes or yawning.  [Jarod Kintz]

No, I mean stimulating conversation. Fun conversation. Laughter.

And of course, games and puzzles. Now, I'm not talking Candy Land, although it can be fun to play that one with the grandchildren. I'm talking about games and puzzles that make you t-h-i-n-k.

Think 1-2-3-4-hold... and stop. And again... think! 1-2-3-4- hold... and stop. Think harder! Dig down deep and feel the brain...

It's never too late for us to form new pathways in our brains, ya know. We've just gotta stimulate them, and get the blood pumping.

To keep our brains in good shape, we've gotta USE 'em. Challenge them. Phyllis Diller said her idea of exercise was a good brisk sit. (Sounds good to me...) But there's no reason she (we) couldn't engage in some mental calisthenics at the same time.

I've always liked to play games and work puzzles, simply because I think they're FUN, but now? I still think of them as fun, but I also recognize them as a possible way to stick a proverbial finger in the dike to maybe slow down the aging of my mind.

So you can imagine how intrigued I was by one of the books offered to me by the folks at

Part of this book's blurb asks, Want to get your frontal lobe breaking a sweat? Make your blood pump to your cerebellum? Stretch your occipital lobe to its limits?

Heck, yeah! (Especially if I can do it while enjoying a nice brisk sit...)

The book is called Bend Your Brain, and while my brain is already bent enough, thankyouverymuch, the promise of stimulating my gray matter... while having some fun... was too much for me to resist.

Created by some of the keen-minded puzzle-makers of Marbles: the Brain Store, the different types of puzzles compiled in this book are intended to target specific parts of the brain... and make them stronger. Puzzles are divvied up into categories of visual perception, word skills, critical thinking, coordination, and memory, so there's plenty of variety from which to choose. Some fairly familiar ones, and some brand new and rather innovative.

So what did I think? I thought some of the puzzles were too easy, especially the ones meant to develop word skills. (But that's probably my strong suit.) I thought some of the images were difficult to decipher, but through process of elimination, they eventually became apparent. I must admit, I skipped some of the puzzles altogether. Like the ones involving standing in front of a mirror and following directions to form a letter. Um... I generally avoid standing in front of mirrors. (It's much easier to maintain my illusions that way.) But I did form the letters mentally... (Just as good, right?) Some of the puzzles, I thoroughly enjoyed. Some simply weren't for me. (It's impossible to identify celebrities by a single facial feature unless you're actually familiar with the celebrity. Seeing the whole face wouldn't have helped me.)

But bottom line? I enjoyed the book. It was fun. If it also stimulated my brain while I was having fun, I'm all for it. Yep, I'd recommend it. For sure. And you know? I think it actually helped my brain grow, too. Smarticus called me a fathead the other day. Nice of him to notice...

For more information on this mind-bending book, see here
For more info about the minds behind the puzzles, see here

NOTE: I received this book for free from the fine folks at Blogging for Books in exchange for writing an honest review.

~~~~~~~~

The only reason I would take up jogging is so I could hear heavy breathing again.  [Erma Bombeck]

The trouble with jogging is that by the time you realize you're not in shape for it, it's too far to walk back.  [Franklin Jones]

Whenever I feel like exercising, I lie down until the feeling passes.  [Robert Hutchins]

You know what? One of the best things you can do for your brain is... exercise. Honest-to-goodness physical exercise...

Crap.

~~~~~

The lovely author Carole Kilgore has been running some very cool contests on her website for the past few months. Month-long contests in which she gives stuff away. Good stuff. Books and other goodies. This month, the author she's featuring is... me! If you go to her spiffy tiki hut and click on the contest button in the sidebar, you can see what it's all about. All it takes is a simple response to the question she poses (or a more detailed response, if you prefer) and you, too, will be entered into her contest of the month. For October, the swag waiting to be won is an autographed copy of Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade, AND a copy of Old Broads Waxing Poetic. Next month? Only Carol knows for sure. So why not make it a habit to visit her blog? It's fun, and no exercise involved...

                        Although with proper exercise, we can accomplish great things...

                           Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Satisfaction Brought Him Back

Thought for the day:  The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity. [Dorothy Parker]

I don't believe curiosity killed the cat, do you? (However, it might possibly have led him into some oopsie situations a time or two.)

How about you? Are you the curious sort? I am. Dorothy Parker was right. I'm rarely bored, and that's probably because I've been afflicted with a raging case of curiosity my entire life. What's more, the condition is still going as strong as ever. (Beats being bored...)

Curiosity was framed. Ignorance killed the cat.

Okay, before I share a current  curiosity with you... it's the last Friday of the month, and time for the monthly gathering of bibliophiles known as the Cephalopod Coffeehouse, hosted by the chief cephalopod himself,  the armchair squid. As usual, I'll post my bookish stuff near the end of this post, so those of you who don't give a good hoot what I've been reading can just read the first part of the post and ignore the rest. Those who wanta see even more of who's been reading what, pop over to the squid's blog and check out the linky link thing-a-ma-bob there.

Now then. Thing-a-ma-bob. That's what it is. Or possibly a doohickey. The truth is, we don't know what the heck it is. Smarticus found this thing... this very interesting thing...  in the bottom of a box of stuff he bought from a pawn shop before it went out of business. We don't know what it is. The other people we've asked don't know what it is, either.

Maybe one of you do. Ready to see it?

Here it is in profile. It's made of brass and has a sturdy feel to it. A fairly simple construction, but well-made.

Here it is, head on. (Or heck, maybe it's the back...) The black bulbous part is made of a rubber compound of some sort.

The other side features a shallow channel, which isn't as smooth as the rest of the... thing-a-ma-bob. 

When the handle is squeezed shut, the ends separate, as though it's intended to stretch something, maybe. Maybe not.

Whether this is part of something larger, or it's the whole deal, we don't know. Do you? Anybody know what this is?

(If not, any fun guesses...?)

Okay, moving on the the book part of this post. First up, my most recent book from

Unlike last month, I can't honestly say this was the best book I read this month, but it might be something y'all would enjoy...

 Before requesting Tantric Coconuts, I read the handful of reviews already written for it, and noted that they differed dramatically, with ratings ranging from one-star to five. Still, I was intrigued with the notion of a Nicholas Sparks-like novel with a spiritual element. Besides, the author has a "New York Times" bestselling track record. It HAD to be good, right?

Now then: reality. Say there are two Ferraris zipping down the road. Now imagine a head-on collision. Both are destroyed, and now neither is worth a plug nickel. That's kinda what I think happened to this book. On the one hand is a semi-sweet story laced with bits of humor, and on the other hand is the author's serious philosophy about life and spiritual growth. Either of these premises could have made a top-notch book, but when they're forced to collide and merge bumpers? Not so much. Then the book looses focus and identity, and in a well-meaning attempt to fulfill both roles, it fails to adequately fulfill either. Manufactured discussions between the characters as a means to teach the path to spiritual fulfillment came across as contrived and awkward. Stiff. The saddest part is that the message the author is trying to send is definitely one worth receiving. Unfortunately, I think most readers will give up on this book without finishing. I wish the author would write a straightforward non-fiction book about his thoughts on spiritual growth, rather than try to incorporate them artificially in a piece of fluff.

For more information about this book, please see here, and for more info about the author, this is the place right here. Just to make it clear, I received this book for free from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review. If you're interested in following suit, just check out their website.

Now, then, I thought I'd mention a few books I read this month which I highly recommend:

• Deadly Lies, by Chris Patchell. Part of my review from Amazon and Goodreads: How well do we really know the people we love? Police detective Alex Shannon thought he knew his wife Jill very well, but now he's not so sure. Something's changed. As a sexually abused teenager, Jill vowed to never be a victim again, so when abuse rears its ugly head again and threatens to destroy everything she holds dear, she has to do something to take control of her life again. The problem is, that "something" is far from legal. When the detective's investigation uncovers clues leading right to his bride, what will he do about it? Uphold the law, let his wife go... or something else?  

I really enjoyed this book, which could be classified as a thriller, I suppose. Much to my surprise, after I posted my review for it, the author sent me a really nice box of chocolates. (Which in no way influenced the five stars I'd already given it...)

• The Graveyard Shift, by Brandon Meyers & Bryan Pedas. These talented guys, who blog at A Beer for the Shower,  have already proven themselves to be off-the-chart funny and witty. In this collection of short stories, they also prove themselves to be a little... creepy. (Of course, I mean that in the nicest way...) One of the best things about reading a collection of short stories is the reader can read one story now, set the book down, do something else, and come back to read another one later, right? Kinda like having a lovely box of mixed chocolates next to your easy chair to select from at leisure. HA! I dare ya! TRY to read just one. Me? I read every single story in one sitting. (Which comes pretty close to my approach to eating boxes of chocolates, too, now that I think of it...) Anyhow, these stories are worthy of raising a couple goose bumps, and verrrry well-written. Imagination out the wazoo. Loved 'em! (Brandon also recently published a novel called Lovely Death, which I just purchased, but haven't yet read. Looking forward to it, though.)

• Bombs and Butterflies, by Jo Carroll. Anyone who's ever daydreamed about visiting exotic places around the world would love this author's books. This lovely blogging grandma from London doesn't just daydream about traveling... she DOES it. To wonderful places, where this intrepid traveler experiences wondrous (and sometimes scary) things, and meets wonderful (and sometimes scary) people. Then, she goes back home and writes about it, so we lucky readers can benefit from her insights and experiences. This book is about her trip to Laos, but all of her books are terrific. Seeing the world through her eyes may not be the same as seeing them first-hand, but it's the next best thing.

And there ya have it. Now... I want you to put on your thinking caps. I'd like you to think about your favorite old broad... could be someone in your family, a friend, celebrity, whatever. But don't tell me now. Next Friday, I'm gonna be writing about MY favorite old broad, and I'll be asking you then about yours. So think about it, so you're prepared to give an answer...

                                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Will Blog For Books

Thought for the day:  Books are uniquely portable magic.  [Stephen King]

Yes, indeedy, it's that time again. It's Cephalopod Coffeehouse time. Time for a bunch of us book-loving bloggers to sip fragrant beverages while sharing information about some of the innovative, new, and not-so-new books we've read over the past month. Wanta participate? Just pop on over to The Armchair Squid's blog.

If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.  [Haruki Murakami]

If you're still here, is it safe to assume you like to read? Well then, what do you think about FREE BOOKS? Yeah, I know. Dumb question, right? I'm pleased to say I've won a lot of books through Goodreads' giveaways... as many as three in a single day. But, that's kinda hit-or-miss, and based on the luck of the draw. What if there were a program where you can simply request a book, and (ta DA!) it gets shipped to you? Sounds too good to be true, doesn't it? But it is true. Allow me to present ...

Maybe you've heard of bowling for dollars, or fishing for compliments, or running for office, but have you ever heard of (Insert drum roll here.) Blogging for Books? Don't worry; I never heard of it, either, not until the lovely Connie told me about it, that is. Now I'm passing the info on to you guys. Would you be willing to write a review on your blog about the books these fine folks send you? (Which, by the way, YOU get to select.) If so, who knows? Maybe you could take part in this program, too. To find out, all you have to do is go to their website and answer some simple questions. You get to select your preferred genres from a wide range of categories, and then if you're accepted, you have immediate access to a list of books from which to choose. Less than a week after I put in my request, I had my first selection in my hot little hands. Am I psyched? You betcha. I mean, come on! Free books? What's not to love? Check it out.
****

Okay, time to consider some of my reading indulgences from this past month. I read a couple Nicholas Sparks books, which were as enjoyable as a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows... and just about as predictable. Another Iris Johansen book, which was good, but not one of her best. I finally got around to reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett, too, and was delighted to find it's every bit as good as everyone says it is. I thoroughly enjoyed Florence Gordon, by Brian Morton, which is about a feisty and unforgettable seventy-five year old feminist. But the book I'm gonna highlight this month is the one I got from Blogging for Books. Not just because I agreed to blog about it, but because I genuinely loved it.

                           The book?

"My Paris Kitchen." Appropriately enough, it arrived on my doorstep on Bastille Day. Kinda cool, huh? Piggy that I am, I devoured the entire thing in one gluttonous sitting.

Is it a cookbook? Yes, but it isn't just a cookbook. It's an intimate cookbook with a myriad of personal touches, and it's written by an accomplished chef who's every bit as talented at spinning a delicious story about what it's like to live in Paris as he is at whipping up a mouth-watering meal.

Lebovitz relocated from California to Paris ten years ago, and with this book, it's almost as though he's taken us with him, because this book immerses readers in the realities of Parisian living.

Does it contain some wonderful classic French recipes? Yep, but that isn't all it contains. Like many other places in the world, the infusion of other cultures and nationalities has greatly influenced French eating and cooking habits. So this book also contains delightful recipes from other regions, too... with a bit of a French twist, of course.

In addition, this book includes clever tricks of the trade that any cook would appreciate, and some spiffy updates on some of the classic recipes found in my old (ie. antique) Julia Child cookbook. The recipes themselves? Extremely well-written, often illustrated, and simple enough for most cooks to tackle with confidence. (However, I don't think I'm gonna tackle the duck fat cookies... You're welcome, Smarticus.)

Oh, yeah. I know I already told you once, but according to the instructions, I'm supposed to add a disclaimer to the bottom of my review. So here 'tis...

DISCLAIMER: I received this book for free from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review.
***

For those of you who aren't into cooking, another book I read this month may be more to your liking: The Ghosts of Nagasaki, by Daniel Clausen. Talk about a unique book. I'm telling you, it's a literary Mobius strip. Past and present, real and imaginary, dead and alive... they all seem to coexist on the same plane, so it's a real mind-bending thought provoker. Plus, that dude really knows how to write.

                                              Okay, y'all, have a super weekend.

                                     Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Broken Branches

Thought for the day: Hold a true friend with both hands.  [Nigerian proverb]

It's hard to believe a whole month has flown by since the last get-together of the Cephalopod Coffeehouse, but doggone if  we aren't back at the last Friday of the month again. Hosted each month by the Armchair Squid, this illustrious gathering provides the opportunity for participants to talk books. If you're interested in talking about what you've been reading lately, or finding out what everybody else has been reading, pop on over to the Squid's blog and check out the link you'll find there. Oh yeah... didja notice that new badge in my sidebar for the Songs of Summer bloghop coming up on July 11th? You can check that out over at Squid's blog, too... and maybe even sign up. (Or just click on the badge.) In brief, participants name five summer songs with special meaning to them. Could be from long ago, or as recent as this week. Maybe provide the link to them. (I'm including videos for all my picks.) Come on, don't let me be the only oldster talking about songs few people remember... (Because they weren't BORN yet. HA!)

As always, I'll review one of my recent reads at the end of this post. That way, if you don't give a good diddle about my reading addiction, you can just pay attention to the beginning of this post, and ignore the rest. Fair enough?

Look at this tree. Believe me, the picture doesn't even begin to do it justice, but it's a huge sprawling tree that graces the town where we live. I'm telling you, a whole football team... including the bench-warmers...  could find respite from the sun beneath its branches. It reminds me of the words I embroidered on a sampler as a young girl: Friendship is a sheltering tree. They're from Samuel Coleridge's poem Youth and Age, which he wrote in 1797, and I love the sentiment they express. Love... friendship... a sheltering tree. That's how it should be.

[morguefile]

And sometimes, if we're very very lucky, that's how it is. Sometimes, friends truly look out for each other, and sometimes, big brothers and sisters are sheltering trees for their younger siblings, too...

Let me tell you about one big brother, an amazing young man, just fourteen years old. This young man from Michigan, Hunter Gandee, has a seven-year-old brother with cerebral palsy, a brother he happens to love very much. Hunter came up with a way to help raise awareness of the muscular disorder afflicting his little brother, something he called Cerebral Palsy Swagger. To help put a face on cerebral palsy, the 155-pound Hunter carried his 50-pound brother Braden on his back... for forty miles. Over a two-day period, he trudged through the heat, walked steadily through the rain, and kept moving, in spite of his intense fatigue and aching muscles. Accompanying them on their walk were his parents, two other siblings, and numerous other supporters, some on foot, and others from within a caravan of cars. But it was Hunter who bore the weight for all those miles; it was Hunter who carried his brother every step of the way. Without a doubt, Hunter is a shining example of a sheltering tree, and I predict he will go far in this world... while continuing to look after his kid brother. This song could have been written about him:

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Unfortunately, not all friends are sheltering trees, even though we may think they are. When we reach out to them, their friendship falters, and their branches of support break off uselessly in our hands. In extreme cases, they destroy our homes and crush our lives.

Which brings me to (ta DA!) this month's book review.

Intriguing title, isn't it?

The book lives up to it. too. You know the rest of that saying, don't you? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

The real difficulties arise when you can't tell them apart.

Let me tell you about it...









After sixteen years of marriage, Natty and Sean have an unbreakable bond. That's what Natty thinks, anyway. But she's wrong. She also thinks her old college pal Eve is a true blue friend who would never ever hurt her. Wrong again. When Eve shows her true colors, she turns out to be more psychotic than psychoanalyst, and Natty's dream life quickly unravels and turns into a nightmare.

When their younger daughter gets critically ill while on a school trip to France, Natty hops on a plane to be with her in the hospital. Eve happens to be visiting at the time, and "selflessly" offers to stay, so she can help look after their other daughter... and Sean, of course. (What a gal, huh?) It's almost too easy for Eve to worm her way into Sean's heart. She knows all the right moves, knows exactly what to say and when to say it, and knows where all his buttons are and how to push them. But it's no wonder. She's done this sort of thing before. More than once. By the time Natty and her daughter return ten days later, Sean's in love with Eve and ready to end the marriage.

The ten-day time frame is the only part of the story that doesn't ring true to me. Thus far, Sean has been a devoted husband --- even though Natty has been investing most of her time and energy into their successful hotel business. (Let's just say she's had a "headache" for entirely too long, if you know what I mean.) Plus, his daughter... his princess... is in critical condition. I can't imagine that under those circumstances, he'd allow himself to be so utterly distracted by flattery, cheap pandering, thong underwear and dirty sex. Eventually, maybe. Maybe even probably. But in ten days? With one daughter in the hospital and another in the house with them? I dunno. Because the rest of the book is so good, I'm willing to overlook that ten-day capitulation. 

Yes, it's good. It's a well-written, tension-filled tale, and a fast read. Eve's clever cold-blooded campaign threatens Natty's sanity, and almost sends her to prison. Then Natty unearths some unsettling secrets about Eve's past, secrets that put her life in danger. Lies, secrets, a death, and revenge all come together to create any woman's worst nightmare --- and a darned good book.
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Oh, one thing. The copy I read is a straight-from-the-publisher uncorrected proof. The book isn't due to be released until September. (Sorrrrry.) But you can pre-order it on Amazon, if you'd like.

                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Remembrance and Inspiration

Thought for the day:  Freedom Is Not Free. [Korean War Memorial, Washington, D.C.]

It's that time again. (Cue the pounding of the gavel coffee mug. Careful, now... don't spill!) It's time for the monthly meeting of the Cephalopod Coffeehouse, hosted by the Armchair Squid, and all book-lovers are cordially invited to belly up to the table to share reviews and info about the best book(s) they've read over the past month. If you'd like to read more reviews, or maybe join the gathering and add your own musings to the mix, pop on over to his blog.

In the meantime, in deference to those of you who don't give a good diddle about my reading habits, I'll save my review for the end of the post. But sorry, no silly billboards this month, because today is Memorial Day, and I take that pretty seriously. Yes, I know it was officially celebrated last Monday, but today... the 30th... was our traditional day of remembrance long before the date got changed to turn it into part of a convenient three-day weekend. So some part of me will always think of the 30th as Memorial Day. Just like it will always be my brother's birthday. Happy birthday, Ron! Semper fi.

Vietnam memorial

As an amateur radio operator, I had the privilege of serving as a member of  Army MARS. (Military Affiliate Radio Service) For Memorial Day one year, the Chief shared a story with us about a Captain who was stuck in traffic at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. It was pouring rain, and this captain was growing increasingly more agitated because he was running late, and knew he'd never make it to PT on time. Just as traffic was finally starting to move, the vehicle in front of him stopped, and a private jumped out into the pouring rain and ran into the Memorial Grove beside them.

What a bonehead! the captain thought.

Horns were honking, and the captain, as well as everyone else behind him, were fuming. Still, the private kept going, with his BDUs soaked and plastered to his skin. He ran up to one of the memorial plaques, picked up the small American flag that had fallen to the ground, and set it back up again. Then he came to attention and saluted, before running back to his car and driving off.

The captain later said, "That soldier, whose name I'll never know, taught me more about duty, honor, and respect than a hundred books or a thousand lectures. That simple salute - that simple act of honoring his fallen brother and his flag - encapsulated all the Army values in one gesture for me. It said I will never forget. I will keep the faith. I will keep the mission. I am an American soldier."

We may not be soldiers, but the least we can do is remember them, a very small effort for those who are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.

To those who died, honor and eternal rest; to those still in bondage, remembrance and hope; to those who returned, gratitude and peace.  [Illinois Vietnam Veterans Memorial]

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Okay... let's talk books, shall we?

I've read a mess of them over the past couple months. At least twenty-five since I last participated in this bookish gathering, but I'll only review one... (You're welcome!) my top pick. However, here are some other top-notch books I highly recommend, as well:


*  Green Eggs and Weezie, by Cathy Oliffe-Webster. Funny, heartwarming, lovable, and quirky. Guaranteed to please.
*  Leverage, by Nancy Thompson. WOW! What a heart-stopping thriller, and a fabulous follow-up to her debut novel The Mistaken. 
*  The Eighth Day, by Dianne Salerni. Very cool tale about a secret eighth day of the week, only accessible to certain descendants from the days of King Arthur. Technically a YA book, but enjoyable for all ages.
* West of Paradise, by Marcy Hatch. An interesting mixture of history, adventure, romance, and fun. Oh, yeah, and time travel... to the Old West.
* Fiance by Fate, by Jennifer Shirk. Another winning sweet romance from this lovely lady, sprinkled with just the right amount of humor. Her stories never, ever disappoint.
* The Promise of Rain, by Rula Sinara. While reading this one, I could practically hear Baby Elephant Walk (from the movie Hatari) playing in my head, because the heroine runs an elephant research and rescue camp in Kenya. Magnificent setting... and a satisfying tale of friendship and love to go along with it.

Okay, I'd better stop now, or I'll be listing all twenty-five books, so let's move on to the top pick:

Of all the books I've read in recent months, this relatively short non-fiction book made the most indelible impression on me.

What did I think? Turn to the word "wonderful" in your thesaurus. See all those words there? THAT'S what I think of this book. And then some.

Do you consider yourself a seeker? I mean, have you consciously sought a better understanding of yourself, of life, spirituality, and ... death? Yes, death. I know; it isn't a topic many people feel comfortable discussing around the dinner table... or anywhere else, for that matter... but don't you sometimes wonder about it? After all, death is life's ultimate mystery and final challenge, and each of us is eventually gonna have to face it, so why not talk about it? Gee, wouldn't it be fantastic if someone older and wiser were willing to discuss old age and death with us? Maybe he could let us in on some of the spiritual wisdom and insights he's gained through a long life of both traditional, and non-traditional, seeking... and finding.

Guess what? Someone IS willing, and an amazing somebody he is. When in his mid-eighties, Reb Zalman, a beloved rabbi, reformer, innovator, and life-long seeker, teamed up with writer Sara Davidson with the intention of creating a book that could gently guide readers through the labyrinth of old age, and away from the usual "freak out" factor regarding death. Once a week for two years, they met and talked. This book... this wonderful book... is the product of those intimate interviews.

It doesn't matter what your religious background is. You will love this rabbi, and savor his honesty and down-to-earth humanity. I found his sense of humor, his joyful approach to life, and his genuine love of God and his fellow man irresistible. Thanks to Davidson's skillful writing, Reb Zalman now feels like a beloved friend, and one I will never forget. My bet is you'd feel exactly the same way.

It's been a long time since a book affected me so deeply. The rabbi is an extraordinary man who has lived an extraordinary life, and as he now approaches his ninetieth birthday, I'm deeply grateful that he cared so much about the rest of us to join forces with Davidson to create this book. For us. For you. For me. Extraordinary.

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One last word about books... actually about my book. A very wonderful lady and fellow blogger recently read Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade, and much to my humbled amazement, she's going out of her way now to promote it through a review and giveaway on her blog. (If you don't already follow Rosey's blog, check it out... among other things, she offers a LOT of valuable product reviews and frequent giveaways.) She... and a bunch of her other terrific followers... have been tweeting about the giveaway every day. Honest, it's enough to make an old gal like me blush. I'm blown away by her kindness. If you're interested in taking part in her giveaway for a copy... either paperback or e-version... you can go here. Even if you don't want to participate in this giveaway, check out her blog, anyway. You won't be sorry. As for you, Rosey? Thank you. Thank you so very much.

                                        Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

On the Road Again

Thought for the day:  Did y'all hear about the jurisprudence fetishist? He got off on a technicality.

It's the last Friday of the month, (already!) so it's time for another friendly gathering of The Armchair Squid's famous world renown whole lotta fun online book club, where participants post about the best book they've read within the past month. It isn't too late for you to participate, ya know. Just click on that link to his blog, and and sign on up... and then tell us about your Book of the Month.

Like last month, I still realize not all of you give a good diddle about a book recommendation, so I'll offer a little something else for your enjoyment before finishing up with the book review. Oh, and this will be my last post for a while, too. Although I'm not gonna participate in the A-Z Challenge this year, I AM gonna take the month off from blogging and maybe get some work done on some writing projects. Heck, I might even rearrange some of the dust bunnies around the house, or paint a wall or two. Who knows? (After all, I was born to be wild...) To those of you who will be working your way through the alphabet and a bazillion blogs, have fun! Maybe next year for me. Maybe.

Since the bogus funny billboards seemed to be such a hit last month, I think I'll go with some more of them this month. Remember, these things arose from the fertile imaginations of some mighty creative minds; they aren't billboards you'll ever actually see standing alongside the road. Tough. We're still gonna take our virtual road trip to check 'em out. As always, many thanks to the fine folks at dribbleglass, who so graciously granted me permission to use these images.

Ready? Let's go-o-o-o...

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Well, I hope some of those floated your boat. Now, for the book review. Let's see... which one kicked the butts of all the other books I read this month? Tough call.













                                                          But I'm gonna go with... this one:

According to the description on the back cover: The epic tale of Harry Clifton's life begins with the words, "I was told that my father was killed in the war." A dock worker in Bristol, Harry never knew his father and expects to carry on at the shipyard, until a remarkable gift wins him a scholarship to an exclusive boys' school, and his life will never be the same again...

As Harry enters into adulthood, he finally learns how his father really died, but the awful truth only leads him to question: Was he even his father? Is he the son of Arthur Clifton, a stevedore, or the firstborn son of a scion of West Country society, whose family owns a shipping line? From the ravages of the Great War and the docks of working-class England to the streets of 1940 New York City and the outbreak of the Second World War, this is a powerful journey that will bring to life one hundred years of history to reveal a family story that neither the reader nor Harry Clifton himself could ever have imagined.

Sounds pretty cool, right? Well, here's what I think about it:

I actually won this book through a Goodreads giveaway. (Yep... Lucky, lucky, lucky!) I've read a number of Archer's books in the past, but it had been a while, so I was thrilled to have one of his books fall into my lap again. If you've never read any of his books before, you might want to check him out. He's a master storyteller.

When someone is telling me a story, I generally prefer to receive it in a linear fashion; I don't need a lot of backtracking, rehashing, or side trips. Just tell me the darned story already. And if possible, don't keep telling me the same thing over and over. I'm pretty intelligent, so there's a good chance I picked up on that particular detail the first ten times you told me.

So what did I think of a book that essentially tells me about the same events over and over... and over... again? Actually, I liked it. A lot.

See, this book tells the same story, but from different perspectives. Each section of the book is named for a particular character, and begins with a first-person narrative from that character's POV, followed by a 3rd person part of the story, based on what that character knows, thinks, or thinks (s)he knows. There's also a little bit of head-hopping, mixed in with some omniscient narrator POV.

Sounds confusing, but it isn't. I must admit, when the first retelling began, I was a tad annoyed at having my preferred "linear" story interruped, but the author's mode of story-telling is like a jigsaw puzzle being put together via group effort. Different characters provide different pieces, and just like people, some characters try to force their pieces into the wrong place.

All-in-all, this overlapping mode creates a rich depth in both story and characters. I'm not sure many writers could pull it off nearly as skillfully as Archer does, but I still don't think I'd like a steady diet of this style of story-telling. Archer already has a well-earned reputation for being a skilled storyteller, but I wouldn't recommend any new writers to try his approach. The constantly changing POV and head-hopping probably wouldn't be readily accepted from someone who hasn't already proven his marketing appeal.

I only have two major complaints. One, I have a problem with the genetic depiction of grandfather-to-son-to-grandson transmission of color blindness. From my understanding of this affliction, Archer's explanation is long on supporting the story, but short on facts.

The other problem is the book ends on an "Oh, no!" moment. No resolution. More of a cliffhanger, so the story isn't "done". Luckily, although I won this book through a Goodreads giveaway as a "first read", it isn't a new book. (Just new to me.) I say luckily, because this is book one of the Clifton Chronicles, and three more books in the series have already been released. (Ah, HA! No waiting!) When I finished reading this book, my first inclination was to speed to the book store to get the next one in the series. Too bad it was 2 AM at the time. 

Bottom line: Don't count on this book being a stand-alone. It's like the first taste of chocolate. Once you get a taste, you're probably gonna want some more.

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Well, that's all folks! Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.  See y'all in May, but don't be surprised if I pop into your blog for a visit or two before then. Yep, I was born to be... oh, never mind.