Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Dear Thief

Dear Thief - Jacket Image (Portrait)Not a review but a Shout out.  This looks to be a book filled with an adventurous writing style.  Go into it with a wide open mind, ready to receive the strongly stylized words.

Dear Thief
Samantha Harvey
Atavist/Tandem Literary
Release date: Sep. 30, 2014
 
“You were going to work your way into my marriage and you were going to call its new three-way shape holy,” writes the unnamed narrator of Dear Thief.


The thief is Nina, or Butterfly, who disappeared eighteen years earlier and who is being summoned by this letter, this bomb, these recollections, revisions, accusations, and confessions.

“Sometimes I imagine, out of sheer playfulness, that I am writing this as a kind of defence for having murdered and buried you under the patio.”

Dear Thief is a letter to an old friend, a song, a jewel, and a continuously surprising triangular love story. Samantha Harvey writes with a dazzling blend of fury and beauty about the need for human connection and the brutal vulnerability that need exposes.

“While I write my spare hand might be doing anything for all you know; it might be driving a pin into your voodoo stomach.”

Here is a rare novel that traverses the human heart in original and indelible ways.

Monday, September 29, 2014

Treasure Coast and Brash Books

Idgie Says:
Okay, I have to admit this up front.  The computer ate my review.  I went in to tweak it and "something" happened.  Zap.  Pop.  Poof.  No more review.  Back-up?  Never have them for a review, my website has autosave.  Unless, apparently, you hit a wrong button. 

Therefore, this is no longer a review, but a shout out.  I simple did not have the time to recreate it.  BUT... I do have a special treat for you.  A really, really long excerpt!  You can find it HERE.  Now, you might notice that it seems to be on my own site in a different year...  Simply because it was too long for the front page and I had to put it somewhere to link it - so I put it safely tucked into my site.. unless I hit a wrong button again.  


The book is fun - at least that's what I said the first time.  Give it a try - read the excerpt - that will give you a fine example of the book!

__________________________________________________

Paperback: 370 pages
Publisher: Brash Books (September 2, 2014)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 194129801X
ISBN-13: 978-1941298015


Break out the champagne, there’s a new publisher in town!  Brash Books is their name and only the best in crime fiction is their game. 
Launching in September, Brash Books is the brainchild of Lee Goldberg, author of more than 40 books including the bestselling Fox & O’Hare series with Janet Evanovich, and Joel Goldman, author of the hugely successful and award-winning Lou Mason, Jack David, and Alex Stone series. Lee and Joel decided to do something never done before—publish the best mysteries, police procedurals, thrillers, and spy novels of the last 30 years—as well as innovative new titles that will be the among the best of the next 30 years. 
In other words, Brash Books publishes the best crime novels in existence. Their roster features an unparalleled list of highly acclaimed Edgar, Shamus, Anthony and National Book Award-winning or nominated titles.
  ______________________________________

First up for Brash, Tom Kakonis’s TREASURE COAST is a new novel described as “Get Shorty” meets “No Country for Old Men.”
A compulsive gambler goes to his sister’s funeral on Florida’s Treasure Coast and gets saddled with her loser-son, who is deep in debt to a vicious loan shark who sends a pair of sociopathic thugs to collect on the loan. But things go horribly awry and the gambler finds himself in the center of an outrageous kidnapping plot involving a conman selling mail-order tombstones, a psychic who channels the dead, and the erotically super-charged wife of a wealthy businessman.

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About the Author

Master of Crime Fiction Tom Kakonis has been hailed by critics nationwide as the heir-apparent to Elmore Leonard… and for good reason. His stunning thrillers blend dark humor with gritty storytelling for compelling, and innovative crime noir capers packed with unique, sharply drawn characters and shocking twists. All of those talents are on full display in Treasure Coast, his bold new thriller from Brash Books. But that success is built on a foundation of incredible crime writing. In his highly-praised debut Michigan Roll, Kakonis introduced Tim Waverly – a loveable gambler who constantly finds himself playing a game of survival against the odds. The Waverly series continued with Double Down and Shadow Counter, and Kakonis also penned the hilarious and harrowing Christmas car heist Criss Cross. Kakonis took a darker turn with Blind Spot and Flawless, two mind-blowing thrillers he initially wrote under the pseudonym “Adam Barrow.” Blind Spot is a tour-de-force that tracks a father’s relentless, driving obsession to save his family at any cost, while Flawless, picked as a People Magazine Chiller of the Week, centers on a chilling serial killer as his perfectly-ordered life begins to crumbled when he falls in love, his imprisoned father is released, and a relentless, and sleazy, PI starts to follow the trail of bodies to his door. And now Tom Kakonis is back with the thriller his fans have been waiting to read for years. It was worth the wait. Treasure Coast Is “Get Shorty” meets “No Country for Old Men” on a sunny Florida coast that’s teeming with conmen and killers – and marks the return of Tom Kakonis at his best.  
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Treasure Coast is one of the first releases from the new publishing company, Brash Books. Bestselling authors Lee Goldberg and Joel Goldman created Brash to publish “the best crime novels in existence.”


The High Divide

The High Divide
Lin Enger
Hardcover: 352 pages
Publisher: Algonquin Books (September 23, 2014)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616203757
ISBN-13: 978-1616203757

Idgie Says: 
A good "throwback" hard-scrabble survival novel set in the 1800s.  I call it a survival novel only in the Western novel requirements that you have to have some way to live and thrive in these hard-edged towns on the edge of nothing.  Women are dependent on men.  Men are dependent on land and cash.  Children grow up very early.  It seems that the characters in these novels are always on the edge of losing it all.

I read a review comparison between Larry McMurtry and Cormac McCarthy in the writing influence in this novel. I would say that the phrasing and descriptions are more starkly written in the vein of McCarthy, but the characters are more fully fleshed out and containing emotion in the style of McMurtry.

You want to know why the husband left.  You want to know how the wife will survive on her own.  You want to know what the boys will do and if they'll manage on their own.  I will say, you also want to kick the crap out of the husband for his actions.   

When you get mad and want to take action against a character......that means it's a good story that has you in it's grip.


 Book Description:



 In 1886, Gretta Pope wakes one morning to discover that her husband is gone. Ulysses Pope has left his family behind on the far edge of Minnesota’s western prairie, with only the briefest of notes and no explanation for why he left or where he’s headed. It doesn’t take long for Gretta’s young sons, Eli and Danny, to set off after him, following the scant clues they can find, jumping trains to get where they need to go, and ending up in the rugged badlands of Montana.

Short on money and beleaguered by a treacherous landlord, Gretta has no choice but to seek out her sons and her husband as well, leading her to the doorstep of a woman who seems intent on making Ulysses her own. While out in the Western wilderness, the boys find that the closer they come to Ulysses’ trail, the greater the perils that confront them–until each is faced with a choice about whom they will defend, and who they become.

Enger’s breathtaking portrait of the vast plains landscape is matched by the rich expanse of his characters’ emotional terrain, as pivotal historical events–the bloody turmoil of expansionism, the near total demise of the bison herds, and the subjugation of the Plains Indians–blend seamlessly with the intimate story of a family’s sacrifice and devotion.

_____________________________________________________

Panel Discussion on Creating Books

Panelists talked about how a book is created. The panelists included Lin Enger, author of The High Divide; Kathy Pories and Ina Stern of Algonquin Books; literary agent P.J. Mark; and Barbara Hoffert, editor of Library Journal.

The panel, “The Journey of a Book: From Writer to Reader,” took place at the 2014 BookExpo America, the publishing industry’s annual trade show, held at the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center in New York City. close




Sunday, September 28, 2014

Reasons never to take a reviewer seriously....

What's this?  A reviewer telling you not to to take us seriously?  That's right I am.  I say this for a couple of reasons.

1. A review is ALWAYS nothing more than a person's opinion.  Now if we all had the same opinion, we wouldn't need to discuss anything would we?  I try very hard to keep my opinions out of the reviews, if that make sense.  In other words, I may hate a book, but that does not mean it's a bad book - it's simply a book that disagrees with me, as a person.  Therefore I need to tell what it's about, how the writing flows, etc.  I need not slam the book in harsh fashion only because I like to read about puppies and a book about cats showed up at my door.  Now if I love a book, everyone knows - but that's a positive thing so I like to share the positives.

2. I hate to say this, but a lot of people like to be somewhat of a show off with their "word smarts" and will write copious amounts of words about a book, with no other goal but to show they were smart enough to read all the words and understand them.  No offense, but when you're reading Jackie Collins, this just isn't necessary. It's like listening to the guy at the office party tell you over and over what car he drives, how many homes he has and how important he is the company.  Bore Snore.

3. Finally, and this is a pet peeve of mine - if you see a review of over 4 paragraphs, immediately stop reading it.  Why -  because those reviewers tend to tell you the entire book in their review and there simply is no reason to read the book - the Cliff Notes just landed on your lap.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieH0J6oZhIkNtVeWfXrYQqeqXsjzOwtCHVdQx9m9Po15ey7_MavXtwsq_akxLKadC9e2fBfxTEz4os9SKy4hMgLXMPMx9p81y8Wf0Bat3bOVG7RuwRsCZJ_Z1Md83HIuQtZ8wmOQ/s1600/reviewer+typewriter_edited-2.jpg
My goal when writing a "review" - and yes, I'm sure a lot of reviewers would call me a book pusher instead of a true reviewer - is to tell the ESSENCE of the story.  What the story contains, how it flows, if it's soft and sweet or harsh and bitter.  You don't need to read all the details of the book and the hidden back stories that may or may not even be there..........you want to know if it's a book you might want to read.  Simple as that. 

I don't write "bad" reviews, though I will mention when I find things are off kilter or excessive to my mind.  If I find a book is truly not good, I simply don't review it.  Call me Pollyanna, but the Amazon reviews and such tend to make me wince, with so many being anonymous angry bashes. 

So I suppose what I'm rambling about here, as I have recently come across reviewers taking themselves oh so seriously, is that we are just people stating opinions and (hopefully) basking in the joy of being part of the book world.  I know I am.  But if you think a book might be interesting, certainly don't pass it by simply because I say it wasn't the bees knees.  My idea of hot knees might not be yours. 

Friday, September 26, 2014

Save My place

Idgie Says: 

This is a bittersweet story of life. Dating, marriage, children, family in general, and heartbreak.  There's no cliffhanger, deep plot or suspense, just a life well lived.  It's a sweet story, but tear inducing at the same time - as is the truth with life.

Olivia is a true Southern Lady, with perfect manners but strength enough to deal with issues in daily life and her personality comes through in her books. 

This is a slim book filled with emotion and perfect for an afternoon read. 

____________________________________________________
Paperback: 154 pages
Publisher: Mercer University Press (September 1, 2014)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0881465011
ISBN-13: 978-0881465013


Book Description:
Blessed with an innate optimism and a magical childhood, Elisabeth Belle Sterling discovers that the path to happily-ever-after love is not as easily obtained as she had always imagined.

The Camelot-like love she longs for seems like only a dream until she meets the handsome Kincaid Patterson, a West Point graduate who carries a dark secret from his past.

Theirs is a passionate and unconditional love that has to confront a painful past, heart-searing separation, and the greatest of all tragedies. But the biggest obstacle is the loss of faith that threatens to undermine all that they have.

Set in the South during the 1960s and 70s against the backdrop of the Vietnam War, Save My Place is a beautifully written love story of two people who search deep within their souls to save each other.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Getting Even

Idgie Says: 
The book describes itself as being similar to  Bridget Jones.  While I agree in part, it's definitely a calmer, less frantic Bridget Jones.  She dates her co-worker, is British, has great friends and a spotty confidence about her body.......... but Ivy is not quite as frenetic or liquored up as Bridget.  Still, I agree with the comparison and the fact that if you enjoy one, you will enjoy the other.  A perfect escapism book.  

(Originally published in Britain in 2012.)

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Book Description:
Revenge has never been such fun. From Sarah Rayner, the international bestselling author of One Moment, One Morning, comes GETTING EVEN (St. Martin’s Griffin; On-Sale September 23) an unputdownable story of jealousy, sex, friendship and backstabbing set in the heart of London's Soho "ad land".

How would you feel if your best friend at work betrayed you? Was secretly having an affair with an influential colleague? Won a coveted promotion, then teamed you up with a mere junior, leaving you feeling completely demoted? What would you do? For Ivy there's no choice. The only person she has ever trusted, Orianna, has blown it big time. So there's only one way forward: revenge. Ivy's campaign is brilliant, if horribly destructive, and she's determined to get even with the woman who has dared to cross her. But is Ivy really the innocent party? Or is she hiding secrets of her own?

Like The Other Half, Getting Even is lighter and sexier than Sarah's more recent novels. It’s funny and flirtatious and very fun. If you liked Bridget Jones's Diary, then you'll love this.


Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Polio Boulevard - follow up Q & A

http://www.karenchase.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/polio_book1.pngAt the beginning of this month I told you about a book that had come out with some compelling information about the Polio epidemic that swept the country in the 50's, told from first person experience.  

The link to that post is HERE


As a follow-up, I just received a Q & A from the author that gives some additional in-depth background on the book and the subject matter.  

Enjoy!

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Q&A with Karen Chase, author of POLIO BOULEVARD

Sixty years after your childhood polio diagnosis and after a long, successful career as an author of poems, stories and essays, why did you finally decide to write your memoir, POLIO BOULEVARD?
While my childhood was marred by the disease and its recovery, I did not consciously think of myself as a polio survivor. For many decades, I never looked back. My polio became a distant memory. I suppose it has taken me this long to write about it because, for some people, personal stories take a long time to tell.  Although I didn’t experience my illness as traumatic, no doubt it was.  Maybe I repressed the story.  For some reason, it never popped up as something to talk or write about.  Art being what it is – art emerges from the soul – it suddenly loomed large as a subject to explore in my writing.  I don’t question this process.  I just tag along, following the muse.

What was your childhood like prior to your polio diagnosis?
I was a sprouting ten-year-old girl living in an affluent suburb of New York City, and all was well. I was merrily jumping rope and playing hopscotch with my friends.  I’d hop on my bike and help my older brother deliver newspapers up and down the streets of my town. I’d swim in Long Island Sound, a short bike ride from our house. And I had a new baby sister!  I was in fifth grade. One day while walking home from school for lunch, kicking a stone down the road, my legs began to hurt. After a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and glass of cold milk, I said, “Mom, I can’t go back to school today.” My neck got stiff, my fever rose alarmingly, and what started as small pains turned into large ones. The doctor came and soon I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, diagnosed with polio. 

What was the recovery process like?
I spent 6 months in Sunshine Cottage, the polio ward at Grasslands Hospital in Westchester County, NY.  During that time, I was in a wheelchair and had a back brace. Later, I was put in a full-length body cast, underwent a spinal fusion at the Hospital for Special Surgery in New York City. I left school in fifth grade upon my diagnosis and did not return until I was a high school freshman.

How did your rich imagination and creativity help you through your ordeal?
As a young girl, my mother took me on the train into New York City where I took painting lessons in the basement of the Metropolitan Museum. Right now, I can smell those oversized jars of red and blue tempera. I loved to paint. Polio struck when I was ten years old and I was shocked to be immobilized—first by the deadening effect of polio and later by an enormous body cast. As my body was losing motion, my mind was painting. I remember lying inert in my hospital bed, focused on the dots of the hospital ceiling tiles.  I pretended they were all kinds of animals on the move—bears, camels, foxes on parade. With the help of my abundant imagination, I joked around on the hospital ward, making life not only bearable but fun. Looking monster-like in my full-length body cast, I wrote a letter to the Barbizon School of Modeling, asking whether I could become a model. My illness made for a rich inner life and immobility shaped and widened my vision. After polio, I valued my mind’s flexibility like gold.

How did having polio as a child affect your sensory experiences and body image?
The way a blind person compensates for for lack of vision by exceptional hearing, I compensated for my immobility by always looking, looking, looking and always listening. Before I got sick, I was particularly tuned in to what I saw and heard.  Since then, this tendency has mushroomed. To this day, I react strongly to even the slightest sound, which can sometimes be difficult. When I hear friends talk about aging, how this or that attribute has changed, I realize how my polio has affected my body image. My body has been imperfect for as long as I can remember.  Seeing my body age is part of this ongoing imperfection so it is not jarring.  I don’t mean to sound like I don’t care what I look like – I’m actually quite vain.

What was your reaction to the news that Jonas Salk had invented the polio vaccine?
In the spring of 1954, when I was a patient in the polio ward at Grasslands Hospital in Westchester County, I was happily playing Monopoly with my friends.  The radio was on.  A voice announced that a doctor named Jonas Salk had invented a vaccine to prevent polio.  Some of us turned silent, some of us laughed, and one patient blurted out, “Too late for us!”  Here we were, a group of ill children on stretchers and in wheelchairs living through an historical moment when polio’s peril was replaced by joy and relief.

What has been your personal perspective over the years on Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a polio patient who became president of the United States?
For me and so many others who had polio, FDR is a figure alive in our imaginations. How helpful to know how he embraced life after his illness, how courageous he was, how he moved ahead in the world. Not only that, but the way he tirelessly worked and fought for those less fortunate is inspiring, especially in today’s climate.  Additionally, my parents were lefty liberals and adored Roosevelt.  There were plenty of books around our house about him, making him a familiar character.  I have always felt a kinship with him, almost like we are part of the same family, almost like he is my grandfather.  In fact, writing POLIO BOULEVARD, a book in which FDR is an important character, has led to my current writing project.

What has your reaction been to hearing that polio is back in the news as a global threat again?
That children in Pakistan, Nigeria, Afghanistan, Syria and Iraq wake up in their beds with pain and fever as polio invades their bodies and does its deadly work is a devastating thought. How can this be? Because of the preventative power of the Salk Vaccine, it is avoidable. The World Health Organization, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and the International Rotary Club have dedicated themselves to making the earth polio-free.  Through their efforts and their dollars, combined with many countries’ internal efforts, polio has been eradicated in most of the world. Recently, while spending time in New Delhi, I saw billboards that publicized polio as an existing threat. But I also learned that the Indian government was sending out massive numbers of people to families and religious leaders in order to foster understanding about immunizations.  Aid workers were being sent to the most remote villages in the country to dispense the vaccine. Even Bollywood stars and celebrity cricket players joined in. Huge efforts from within the country, combined with international dedication, have made India polio-free as of 2013, making India a prime example of how polio can be stricken from this earth.

What are your views on the current parental trend in vaccine hesitancy?
During my childhood, polio terrified the country, killing and crippling at random. It lurked anywhere, came on as easily as a cold. Any fever, stiff neck or sore throat caused hysteria. Parents of young children today cannot imagine what a deadly epidemic is like.  If you’re reading about the Ebola virus spreading through West Africa right now and the alarm that is causing, you can begin to understand the terror of polio. Today, a controversy swirls around the subject of vaccines. To me it is clear: it is a basic public health service for the government to require children to be vaccinated against polio. Society needs such protection. Considering my childhood ordeal, I cannot imagine forgoing the protection the polio vaccine provides.

What do you hope readers take away from POLIO BOULEVARD?
First and foremost, I hope readers find this a good, exotic, well-told story that they can’t put down. I hope that the story encourages those who are ill or have ill children to try to focus on what’s positive in the situation, and not to be defined by it. You are who you are, no matter the illness, and it helps not to lose that sense of yourself.  This brings me to the reason the book appeals to young readers.  To read about a serious obstacle in life that doesn’t touch you directly – it’s in a book!  – is one way of conquering and mastering fear. People like to read about disease and I hope that the story of my childhood illness shows how even in the throes of serious disease, one can be confident, have fun and live a good life. I also hope that those vaccine-hesitant parents who struggle with the issue, will find the story of my illness thought provoking, in terms of what is was like to live in a culture with an ongoing horrifying epidemic.

What are you working on next?
Franklin Delano Roosevelt makes many appearances in POLIO BOULEVARD and now has become the sole focus of my current writing project.  Three years after he was stricken with polio, he bought a houseboat with a friend and named it the Larooco.  From 1924-26, he spent a few months each winter in the Florida Keys on the boat.  While there, he kept a nautical log, writing longhand each day about fish caught, weather, the boat’s route, engine trouble, guests, and meals. The Larooco Log is entrancing and is the centerpiece of my new project.

Glimmerglass

Idgie Says:
First, if you do go to buy this book, pay attention.  Whilst perusing Google for cover art I discovered there are several books with the same title.  
 
Escaping a disappointingly lived life, Cynthia arrives in a small hamlet filled with eccentrics.  It has an old fashioned flair to the town and setting, but as she is able to drive into the city for art supplies, I believe it's in a more modern time that you first believe it to be.  Cynthia hears about a caretaker's cottage on a large estate for rent and on a whim drives out to investigate.  She also holds hope that she might be able to revive her career as an artist.  Next thing she knows, without really remembering agreeing to stay, keys are tossed in her hand and she is the renter.

She meets people, falls in love, follows her hope of discovering the mysterious "ghost boy" that shows up on numerous occasions, shies away from a frightening hill that her house grows into and investigates a mysterious missing young man from long ago.

Where at one point Cynthia mentions she feels she is living her life in a dreamlike state, almost a fog of unreality, it captured the essence of the book also.  I felt that I was floating above the scenes, catching most of the glimpses I needed to make the story come together in my mind, but also continuing to miss little pieces of it at the same time. The story is somewhat purposefully choppy in places, making you hunt for what's going on.  It's a throwback novel from a different time.  

Very well done.

____________________________________________

 Book Description:
Glimmerglass
By author: Marly Youmans
Mercer University Press
September 1, 2014

Perhaps it was a sense of estrangement from the everyday that drew Cynthia Sorrel to the village of Cooper Patent. The failed painter was lured by the gatehouse with its seven doors, the lake with its tower, and the magical air of a place that couldn't quite decide whether it was fictional, mythic, or real. The gatehouse should have been a first clue that she was on a journey, and soon she begins to glimpse and then to pursue a figure in the woods near her house, convinced she has seen the Muse. As she reclaims her calling as a painter and moves deeper into the uncanny world of Cooper Patent, Cynthia finds herself at the heart of a labyrinth of mystery. 
 
She will have to navigate its dream depths and secrets, brilliant or dark, locked behind a door that opens into the earth. Sébastien Doubinsky writes, "I cannot recommend an author more than Marly Youmans, whose fantastic prose is absolutely gorgeous and haunting." Now this "best-kept secret among contemporary American writers" (Books & Culture) has scaled the tree of books and plucked twigs of gothic romance, ghost tale, medieval dream vision, and belated coming-of-age story, with a leaf or two from the novel of manners and fantasy. The transformed result, Glimmerglass, is a gift to literature like no other.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

No Time to Die - Shout out

notime
NO TIME TO DIE
By Kira Peikoff

Someone is out for blood—Zoe Kincaid’s blood. She’s a 20-year-old trapped in the body of a 14-year-old girl and her DNA could hold the secret of immortality. Could it be the Columbia University researchers who see her as the key to fame and tenure? The shadowy figure, known only as Galileo, who is kidnapping the world’s best researchers? The Justice Department head

who seems a little too intent on getting her alone? Or the maniac who just fed a leading scientist to his chimpanzees?
Zoe knows that unlocking the secrets of genome could save her beloved grandfather, a retired physician and former Olympian who grows frailer by the day. Can she trust the rogue physician whose secret lair hides discoveries that might just save her grandfather? Heart-pounding twists just keep coming in Kira Peikoff’s stunning biomedical thriller, NO TIME TO DIE (Kensington Publishing; August 26, 2014.)
Science has barely begun to unlock the secrets written in our DNA. Researchers are relentlessly hunting for the answers to chronic diseases, cancer, rare disorders and the biggest mystery of them all—aging—but at what cost? Bioethicist Peikoff asks the most troubling scientific question of our time in this taut thriller: when does medicine cross the line?
KIRA PEIKOFF is a writer based in New York City. She graduated with high honors from New York University in 2007 with a degree in journalism, after four years of various reporting internships: covering street crime for The Daily News, writing about Capitol Hill for The Orange County Register in Washington, D.C., reporting on business and technology for Newsday, and researching feature stories for New York magazine. After completing her first book, Living Proof, Peikoff worked for several years in the editorial departments at two New York publishing houses, which gave her an invaluable inside look at the publishing process and the rapidly changing industry. Peikoff is working on her third thriller, freelancing for a variety of major media outlets, and attending Columbia University's Master of Science program in Bioethics.

NO TIME TO DIE
By Kira Peikoff
Pinnacle Books; August 26, 2014
$9.99; 440 pages
ISBN: 978-0-7860-3489-5


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Questions for Kira Peikoff 
Author, NO TIME TO DIE

1.      NO TIME TO DIE focuses on a 20 year-old woman who stopped aging at 14 years-old – where did you get this idea?


A few years back, I saw a documentary on Discovery Health about a young woman who had inexplicably stopped aging. She was almost 20 years old but had stayed frozen as a toddler her whole life, baffling doctors and scientists alike. The case caught my attention because I've always been interested in medical mysteries, and like many people, I'm also fixated on the promise of eternal youth. Yet staying young forever, as welcome as it might be, could also be a curse. I decided to explore it further in a novel, but I didn't want my protagonist stuck as a toddler without much mental or emotional capacity.  So I decided to trap her in the worst possible page for maximum drama and frustration. What could be worse than 14?

2.      What is Syndrome X?



Syndrome X is the name researchers have given to this phenomenon of total stunted development. To date, at least 6 people have been identified.



3.      What are some of the benefits of not aging?



 On an individual level, endless time--time to spend with family and friends, time to pursue infinite knowledge, passions, careers, hobbies, etc. No longer having to worry about outliving your parents or grandparents. Knowing generations of your own descendants. Living in the prime of life without breaking down physically after 70 or so years.


On a societal level, much less spending on health care, since the diseases of aging (cancer, diabetes, Alzheimer's) would be greatly reduced. A more robust economy, thanks to workers who retain full strength and energy long past retirement age.


4.      What would be some of the negative results of not aging and becoming almost immortal?


Individually--people might suffer from a kind of idle purposelessness if they are living so long that there's no point in "seizing the day" or making the most of life. They might start taking their time for granted and losing their ambition. But of course, you'd still have to support yourself with food, shelter, etc. And you could still get hit by a bus and die, or get sick. It's very different from actual immortality.


Societally--we would have to deal with how to avoid overpopulation. People would have to have fewer children, or maybe skip generations before having children. We'd have to figure out how to make existing resources and infrastructure support the growing population. Social security would end. I don't know if people would retire anymore.

5.      How did you research aging for NO TIME TO DIE?


I read some textbooks about both the physiology, genetics, and social aspects of ending aging. I developed a professional correspondence with a leading researcher who answered all my questions pertaining to my book's specific scenario in great detail. We went back and forth many times on the hypothetical scenario I created with his help, so it's as credible as possible while still being fiction.


6.  How did you choose the thriller genre?


I feel into it by accident. When I started writing fiction, I gravitated toward stories with high stakes, increasing tension, cliffhanger chapters, and a fast pace. I didn't actually intend to write in any genre, but after I wrote my first book, I realized I'd written a thriller.


7.  NO TIME TO DIE offers some great surprises, twist and turns. Who are your biggest influences in the thrillers and suspense genre?


Michael Crichton, Michael Palmer, Lisa Unger, Gillian Flynn. If you want to get old-school, I would add O. Henry and one of my favorite books as a teen: The Scarlet Pimpernel.


8.  In NO TIME TO DIE, one of the main reasons scientists are busy researching defying aging is because: they have a back story. Many have a loved one they wish could have lived longer  – it’s a very human side to all the scientific lab work involved – was your writing process different when explaining the scientific lab work vs. the human and emotional side of your characters?


Yes, writing about the lab work was more of an intellectual challenge, because I had to figure out how to incorporate real-life details with fictional ones. It was like a puzzle. Writing about the human side came more naturally. I tried to tap into how I might feel in their place, and why I might do what they were doing, so I could access that yearning and vulnerability.


9.  What do you hope readers will gain from reading NO TIME TO DIE?


First and foremost, that they will be transported on a thrilling and satisfying journey with characters they've become invested in. Then: that they'll possibly think about their own positions on the controversial subjects the book raises, and finally that they will be shocked by the big twist ending.
 

The Barter

The BarterThe Barter
Siobhan Adcock
Format Hardcover
 ISBN 9780525954224
 320 Pages 4
Sep 2014
Dutton Adult

Idgie Says:
This novel is not only a riveting horror story because of the presence of a possibly hostile ghost that moves right in and refuses to leave, but it leads the reader to view being a stay at home mother as also a horror.  

Sadly it does leave the impression that being a non-working mother is a woman leading a life of vapid conversation, busy-time with the children to fill empty holes in the life and a lot of coffee, yoga and mommy sessions that suck your life away.  Now, I'll admit that I have been both and I see both sides of that working/non-working fence, but I think that there might be some stay at home moms who aren't all that thrilled with their depiction in this novel.   But of course that's a battle that will never be won by either side. I truly got the impression that the author thinks very low thoughts of stay at home moms - she rather went out of her way, unnecessarily to the story line - to make that part of our society look bad.  It was rather like a sidebar to the story itself.

Now back to the ghost.  This story is told by two characters, Bridget in the present and Rebecca in the past.  Rebecca becomes the ghost and the detailing of her life leaves you on the edge of your seat to find out why she is suddenly haunting Bridget 100 years later, what caused this to happen and what is she actually after.  You don't find out until the end of the book the why's and how's, which is great - generally you figure it out at least 3/4ths of the way through.  It was a bit muddled to me - the why's and how's - but it is a fictional story and doesn't have to follow clean linear street signs. 

Idgie's thoughts - Gripping, scary and well worth the read..... unless you're a stay at home mom..  :)

Overview 

A heart-stopping tale as provocative as is suspenseful, about two conflicted women, separated by one hundred years, and bound by an unthinkable sacrifice.


The Barter is a ghost story and a love story, a riveting emotional tale that also explores motherhood and work and feminism. Set in Texas, in present day, and at the turn of the twentieth century, the novel follows two young mothers at the turning point of their lives.

Bridget has given up her career as an attorney to raise her daughter, joining a cadre of stay-at-home mothers seeking fulfillment in a quiet suburb. But for Bridget, some crucial part of the exchange is absent: Something she loves and needs. And now a terrifying presence has entered her home; only nobody but Bridget can feel it.

On a farm in 1902, a young city bride takes a farmer husband. The marriage bed will become both crucible and anvil as Rebecca first allows, then negates, the powerful erotic connection between them. She turns her back on John to give all her love to their child. Much will occur in this cold house, none of it good.

As Siobhan Adcock crosscuts these stories with mounting tension, each woman arrives at a terrible ordeal of her own making, tinged with love and fear and dread. What will they sacrifice to save their families—and themselves? Readers will slow down to enjoy the gorgeous language, then speed up to see what happens next in a plot that thrums with the weight of decision—and its explosive consequences.



Monday, September 22, 2014

Farming, Friends & Fried Bologna Sandwiches

Farming, Friends & Fried Bologna Sandwiches
By author: Renea Winchester
Mercer University Press
September, 2014
ISBN: 
9780881465044
 
Idgie Says:
Goats, runaway goats, kudzu, goat thieves, grocery stores of the past, recipes, memories, good old story telling.  These are things you will find in this sweetly written book.  While clearly not the same, this book harkens back to the Laura Ingalls books for me - part biography, good storytelling, recipes, how to's and life lessons learned.

Renea shares some great stories involving all of the above topics and many more.  Combine this with simple, homegrown recipes and photos and you have a diverse and enjoyable book to spend the afternoon with. 

Renea's first chapter is so vividly descriptive of her Grandaddy's grocery store that I could see her in my mind, ducking his lit cigarettes and helping stock shelves and bring the boloney (bologna was never said in my house either) up front for slicing. I wanted to be there.  I actually wanted to be there for quite a few more of her stories too - I want to be part of that life!

Go spend some time with this book.  Then, as a bonus, if you live in the Atlanta area, you can take a Sunday drive out to Billy's farm and you might even run into Renea there!


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Book Description:
Tucked behind a magnolia tree on a busy Georgia road is a magical place--a simple country farm, unchanged by time. On this little strip of land, chickens scratch greetings and goats bleat hello. Sweet yellow corn grows tall, and curly bean vines reach for the sky. A burly tractor and a fifty-year-old Chevy wait inside the shed, ready for action.
For some folks, farms trigger childhood memories, such as Sunday supper at their grandparent's table, or recollections of past generations smiling from picture frames gathering dust on the mantle. For 82-year-old Billy Albertson, his farm reflects a time before folks were hurried, or technology ruled our lives. Families grew gardens and feasted on fresh vegetables, adults spent time on front porches comparing stories, and children scampered barefoot through the grass waiting their turn at the hand-cranked ice cream freezer.
Spending time with friends on the farm is Billy's life. Here you don't have to be a gardener or blood kin to be family. Inside the pages of Farming, Friends, & Fried Bologna Sandwiches is a story about Billy and his magical farm.

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Some of the great lines from the book are below:

"There is no shame in a fried bologna sandwich."

"Farming and cooking bind us together like peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth."

"Seeds comfort me. With their promise of treasures to come, touching their hard, smooth shells filled me with hope."

"Jars of canned goods contain prayers, pride, and so much love that the lid will barely seal. . . . We have made our people proud, preserved their memory, inside a glass jar."
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And Here's a fabulous excerpt describing Hornless, the goat who would not be tamed:
 
Hornless was a compact, low-to-the- ground creature with a dirty blond mane and a strong, square chin. He'd arrived at the Albertson farm like many other animals, someone could no longer care for him.
Gazing upon Hornless the goat while he munched contently in the pasture, I realized that he had to be the solution to my kudzu problem. He alone could resolve the issue in an economical manner without poisoning the environment or costing me a fortune.

I soon located a Spiral Take Out Stake made by TopPaw™ with a 30-foot cable that boasted 920 pounds of break strength. Turning the package over, I read the two magic words all goat owners want to see, Super Strong.
Eradicating kudzu at my house would be super easy.

Billy and I pushed, turned, and eventually pounded the stainless steel tine until it wedged firmly into the ground. He then clipped the lead to the cable, made certain Hornless was secure, and steered his truck home. I went inside to pour a glass of tea, confident that my environmentally clean mower was hard at work. Minutes later, I stepped outside to inspect the area. Already planning the sales pitch I needed to convince my husband that Hornless was a worthy addition to the family, I searched the area where Billy and I had left him.

Imagine my shock when I discovered that attached to the end of the Super Strong cable was the super weak plastic clasp.

Hornless was on the loose.....

Friday, September 19, 2014

The Unspeakable

The Unspeakable
Peter Anderson
Hardcover: 286 pages
Publisher: C&R Press (September 21, 2014)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1936196379
ISBN-13: 978-1936196371

Idgie Says:
This novel is set in South Africa and it uses a lot of the local language and slang in the story.  It did make it a bit confusing at first, but there are footnotes and once you learn what the word means the story flows along.  The characters are not necessarily likable, but they tell an intriguing story that sticks with you.  

What I enjoy about novels such as this is that while you may not respect or relate to the characters or be unable to stop wincing during some of the story line - it is the type of novel that opens your eyes to other places in the world and other situations - making it valuable.  

_______________________________________________________

Book Description:
 It is the mid-1980s, the era of so-called reformist apartheid, and South Africa is in flames. Police and military are gunning down children at the forefront of the liberation struggle. Far from such action, it seems, a small party of four is traveling by minibus to the north of the country, close to the border with Zimbabwe. Their aim is to shoot a documentary on the discovery of a prehistoric skull that Professor Digby Bamford boasts is evidence that, "True man first arose in southern Africa." Boozy, self-absorbed Professor Bamford is unaware that his young lover, Vicky, brings with her some complications. Rian, the videographer, was once in love with her, and his passion has been reignited. Bucs, a young man from the townships, is doing his best not to be involved in the increasingly deadly tensions.

Powerful and provocative, brilliantly written, The Unspeakable is as unforgettable as it is unsettling. Told in the first person by Rian, it centers on the conflicted being of the white male under apartheid. Unlike many of the great novels of the era, it renounces any claim to the relative safety zone of moralistic dissociation from the racist crime against humanity, and cuts instead to the quick of complicity. It is sometimes said of Albert Camus's The Stranger that everything would have turned out very differently, had the murder only taken place "a few hundred miles to the south." This is that South with a vengeance.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Death in the South

“DEATH IN THE SOUTH”
by
Amber Lanier Nagle

Mrs. Gump:  “I’m dying, Forrest.  Come on in, sit down over here.”
Forrest Gump:  “Why are you dying, Mama?”
Mrs. Gump:  “It’s my time.  It’s just my time.  Oh now… don’t you be afraid, sweetheart.  Death is just a part of life.”
--From Forrest Gump 1994

I rose early that day faced with the long, four-hour drive down to my stepfather’s home in Southeast Georgia. I suppressed my many melancholy feelings by singing along to the radio and focusing my attention on each milestone along my journey—Atlanta’s downtown connector, Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, the large outlet mall in Locust Grove, Rose Hill Cemetery along the banks of the muddy Ocmulgee, and the point where the brown dirt on the sides of I-16 transitions to the white sand hills abundant in the lowland areas of Georgia.
 
“Which shoes should I wear?” Mom asked just moments after I arrived. She had hung her funeral attire on the door of the spare bedroom with two pairs of black pumps parked underneath.
“I don’t know. Maybe those,” I said pointing to one pair.
 
She agreed with my decision and dressed as I washed down a pack of cheese crackers with an ice-cold Coke. A half hour later, I was behind the wheel again, but this time, I chauffeured two others—Mom in the backseat and my stepfather in the front.
 
Freshly plowed dirt roads. Live oaks draped with cascading Spanish moss. Weathered clapboard houses. Barns strangled by tangles of kudzu. Saw palmetto. Towering longleaf pines.
 
The three of us arrived at the funeral home in Richmond Hill and entered the building. Dozens of relatives—some I had not seen in over a decade—ambushed us. We mingled, hugged, waved, dried tears and pressed our way through a sea of grieving people to the open casket. My cousin, Yancey, dressed in a navy blue fisherman’s shirt, lay peacefully before us as if he were taking a nap.
I stood next to my cousin’s body and spoke to him with my thoughts.
 
I hate seeing you like this. I’ll miss your wit—we all will.
 
I had not seen Yancey in a while, although he and I shared conversations and photographs via Facebook. He was my Aunt Joyce’s youngest child—her baby boy, even at forty-seven years old. His rotund body seemed a perfect match for his larger-than-life personality, but his heart and his lungs couldn’t support the surplus weight. Health problems plagued him in the end. His death was somewhat expected, but still, when my sister called and told me he had died, I was simply shocked. I gasped. News of death has that effect on me every time.
 
I hate saying goodbyes, and I’ve said a lot of goodbyes in my lifetime.
 
My Papa Lanier died of emphysema when I was seven, and I remember the weight of his death on my family and the pained, primitive yowls of my grandmother and my Aunt Colleen in the days that followed. They seemed inconsolable.
 
As a child, I also attended funerals for Uncle Lee Roy, Uncle Lewis, and many other relatives, and each time, Mom would escort me up to the body and say, “You might want to look, Honey. It will be the last time you get to see him.”
 
I didn’t want to look, but I did. I saw death laid out before me—the lifeless, empty shells of people from my life. I witnessed the anguish of the survivors who occupied the front pews of the churches. I smelled the overpowering aroma of Chrysanthemums arranged in baskets and stuck in large, flashy sprays. I listened to the comforting messages of preachers guiding my imagination to images of winged souls flying up to Heaven. Unfortunately, I heard the other kind of sermons, too—the hellfire and damnation kind designed to terrify a congregation, wounded and weakened from loss.
 
“If you want to see him again, you must repent your sins and accept Jesus as your Savior today,” some preachers howled while standing over the casket. “Only then can you be reunited with your loved ones in Heaven. Come to the front of the church now and reaffirm your faith. There may not be a tomorrow.”
 
Friends and family members streamed forward. No one wanted to be left behind. No one wanted to spend eternity in Hell. No one.
 
Even as a little girl, I found the fire-and-brimstone sermons of some funerals distasteful. To me, the words “today could be your last chance for salvation,” sounded a lot like a used car salesman’s cheesy pitch—“What do I have to do to get you in this car today? It may not be here tomorrow. Better go ahead and buy it now.”
 
My grandmother Lanier died in 1990. My father wept for her.
 
My daddy joined Grandmother and Papa on the other side in 1992, and I cried for him and my mother who became a widow at fifty-five. We buried him in denim jeans and a flannel shirt because that’s what he was most comfortable wearing. My father was a Mason, and so a band of Masonic brethren wearing white gloves and ceremonial aprons surrounded his body at the graveside. One man wore a hat and spoke directly to us.
 
“Our Brother has reached the end of his earthly toils. The brittle thread which bound him to earth has been severed and the liberated spirit has winged its flight to the unknown world. The dust has returned to the earth as it was, and the spirit has returned to God who gave it.”
 
The service brimmed with poetic phrasing and symbolism—my kind of sermon. At one point, the man with the hat placed a sprig of cedar on my father’s casket.
 
“This evergreen is an emblem of our enduring faith in the Immortality of the Soul. By it we are reminded that we have an imperishable part within us, which shall survive all earthly existence, and which will never, never die. Through the loving goodness of our Supreme Grand Master, we may confidently hope that, like this Evergreen, our souls will hereafter flourish in eternal spring.”
I loved the thought of my father existing in eternal springtime somewhere.
 
We buried my father that afternoon then went to a family member’s house and ate. Women of the family and community had prepared a generous spread of fried chicken, chicken and dumplings, potato salad, cornbread, sweet tea, chocolate cake and other delicacies. Taking food to a grieving family is the epitome of Southern grace, like saying, “I’m sorry for your loss. I care. And don’t ever forget—you are loved by so many.”
 
After we picked at our food and rested for a while, my family caravanned back to the cemetery and stood beside the mounded dirt and flower arrangements for a few minutes. Mom reached down and plucked a limp rose from the spray that covered Daddy’s grave—a keepsake she eventually dried and pressed between the pages of a Bible. We each selected a potted peace lily to take home.
 
I found it difficult to turn and leave my father there that day. I believed that his soul had moved on, yet I had a strong connection with the vessel that contained his being. I lingered at his graveside delaying the inevitable.
 
With its granite and marble obelisks and monuments, the cemetery looked a bit like an outdoor art garden. There was a strange beauty to the setting, although it was a barren land flush with death and sadness. Some of the plots were well taken care of, while others seemed forgotten—faded plastic flowers leaning to and fro and weeds invading the marble rocks. 
 
I continued to stall by wading through the sea of headstones and reading the names, dates, and verses engraved on the surfaces. Finally, my husband grabbed my hand and led me away. 
 
Since that day, I’ve lost others—my beloved Grandmother Jarriel, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. I’ve watched my husband’s parents deteriorate mentally and physically and fade away, too. They were both cremated—their ashes scattered together underneath a tree in a forest near Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
 
I’ve lost pets, and I’ve mourned for them, too—sometimes more than I’ve mourned for people who’ve passed away.
 
But back to my cousin’s funeral.
 
Yancey’s niece, Ashley, stood up in front of all of us and shared some lovely memories. I admired her courage and composure and wondered if I could push my pain aside for ten minutes and speak about a loved one at a funeral service. I’m not sure.
 
After my cousin’s burial, I gathered my passengers and drove off into the blazing sunset while Mom, my stepfather, and Aunt Gloria recapped the events of the preceding days. They talked about how good this person looked and how bad that person looked. They talked about who brought food and how delicious so-and-so’s cake was. They talked about relatives that didn’t attend the funeral or burial service and speculated as to why they didn’t show up. They talked about Yancey, and what a beautiful little boy he had been so many years ago. They talked about my Aunt Joyce and wondered aloud about her future. They talked about life, and they talked about death—sometimes in the same breath.
 
I’ve reached an age where my parents and my remaining aunts and uncles are all surpassing the average life expectancy. Friends and contemporaries are fighting and losing battles with cancer and other debilitating illnesses. I find myself thinking about mortality more and more these days. I brace—not for my own decline and death, but for the eminent loss of the lights around me who brighten my world.
 
My mother has always talked candidly about death, dying, and the afterlife. A few years ago, she called and told me matter-of-factly to prepare for a whole slew of deaths in our family.
 
“There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m just going to come right out with it,” she said. We have so many in our family who are either really sick or really old, so be prepared. When they start dying, they’ll drop like flies.”
 
Mom suggested I keep at least two appropriate funeral dresses in my closet at all times and urged me to make sure my husband’s suit still fit him, which I did. She also said, “You might want to plan and visit with some of your family that you haven’t seen in a few years. You never know—you may not get another opportunity to spend time with them.”
 
Her words made me sad, but her warning proved to be prophetic. Mom’s always on the mark.
As far as her own death, Mom talks about that, too, even though she has the health and stamina of a woman half her age. For the last several years, she regularly sends me a spreadsheet that itemizes all of her bank accounts and personal business. She’s given me a copy of her will and a key to her safe deposit box. I know exactly where she wants to be buried—beside my father’s body at the cemetery east of Collins, Georgia.
 
Her main concern is my stepfather, Johnny.
 
“If I go first, please be there for him,” she has pleaded with me. “He’s going to need a lot of love and care. I know you will help him in every way that you can.”
 
And I will.
 
“And when Johnny goes, see to it that he is buried on the other side of me,” she has told me. “I know it’s weird, but he doesn’t want to be buried alone somewhere or with a bunch of strangers.”
I envision Mom nestled in-between my father and stepfather. I agree with her—it’s weird, but I understand. She can count on me to carry out her final wishes.
 
Yes, I’ve seen death, and I understand both its finality and its truth. Like Forrest Gump’s mother said, “Death is just a part of life.” It reminds us of what’s important—that we are only here for a finite number of days, that we should live each day as if it is our last, that we should love one another, that we should show compassion and forgiveness to others, and most of all, that we should never take one moment for granted.

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Freelance writer Amber Lanier Nagle has written nonfiction articles for Georgia Magazine, Grit, Mother Earth News, Points North and dozens of other magazines. Her book, Project Keepsake (www.ProjectKeepsake), is a collection of nonfiction stories about keepsakes. She facilitates workshops for writers of all skill levels on topics such as freelance writing, writing family stories, and writing creative nonfiction pieces. Connect with Amber at amber@ambernagle.com.