Friday, May 8, 2015

Last Thoughts on God Help the Child by Toni Morrison

“Spare and unsparing, God Help the Child–the first novel by Toni Morrison to be set in our current moment–weaves a tale about the way the sufferings of childhood can shape, and misshape, the life of the adult.

At the center: a young woman who calls herself Bride, whose stunning blue-black skin is only one element of her beauty, her boldness and confidence, her success in life, but which caused her light-skinned mother to deny her even the simplest forms of love.  There is Booker, the man Bride loves, and loses to anger.  Rain, the mysterious white child with whom she crosses paths.  And finally, Bride’s mother herself, Sweetness, who takes a lifetime to come to understand that “what you do to children matters.  And they might never forget.”

A fierce and proactive novel that adds a new dimension to the matchless oeuvre of Toni Morrison.”

It has taken me a minute or two to write about Toni Morrison’s God Help the Child, but I’m essentially here. I say "essentially” because I still haven't wrapped all my thoughts around the book; it’s a Morrison novel so I have to dig deeper than my initial reading to get the dept of its context (which often leads to over-thinking, analyzing, and a necessary re-reading). So I have to write this as I go, and keep it brief before I write myself right off the damn page. Low pressure.

I enjoyed God Help the Child–for a variety of reasons. One was Morrison’s conciseness. While I’m always there for soaking up her way with language, I’m sometimes left confused and bewildered as it concerns how she paints a scene. Thankfully, God Help the Child gave me little trouble in managing Morrison’s writing, style, and narrative flow. In essence: I gathered clarity of her scenes and overall story.  The prose in God Help the Child didn't feel like mental power tumbling to shape a clear picture/comprehension of what was taking place throughout the characters' narratives.  Nor did her usual poetics (did I just make that up?) override scene and direction.  This allowed me to stick with the book without getting lost or wandering toward outside distractions, similar to what happened during my reading of A Mercy.

Nonetheless, the most prominent reason I enjoyed the book came from its identifiable theme on how we carry what’s done to us as children (mainly by her parents) into our adult lives. The book’s exploration into uncovering that theme was many times rough, haunting, and maybe even barbarous. However, I found those tougher avenues to be honest and consistent with my take of the book's objective, albeit unsettling. God Help the Child is an emotional peek into the psychological development behind children, and it doesn't hold back from darker paths. From self-acceptance, fighting conditional love, and finding self-respect, God Help the Child touches it all.  And I really like that Morrison took on this because, as black people, we almost swerve away from psychological concerns in place of stepping into churches for spiritual solutions.  At least that thought came to mind once I finished the book.

Nonetheless, there were moments where I wanted a little bit more story and closure from some characters, one being Bride’s friend, Brooklyn. And there were also times where I felt a lot more telling took over showing. However, the dept that Morrison takes us through Bride and her beau, Booker (whose story I found the most compelling of them all), makes up for it all.  With these two, I felt like Morrison really takes you places you'd never even been before with a character.  (Just read about their journey and you'll see.)

I've always rung my hands over this personal topic, but God Help the Child is another book where I reflected back to those feelings I had growing up. While it wasn't anywhere near as severe as Bride’s case, the lack of praise I felt growing up definitely resurfaced while reading God Help the Child.  Which, in turn, only propelled my connection with the book, characters and themes.

READING HABITS TAG (VIDEO)!



Reading Habits Tag Questions: 

1. Do you have a certain place at home for reading?
2. Bookmark or random piece of paper?
3. Can you just stop reading or do you have to stop after a chapter/ a certain amount of pages?
4. Do you eat or drink while reading?
5. Multitasking: Music or TV while reading?
6. One book at a time or several at once?
7. Reading at home or everywhere?
8. Reading out loud or silently in your head?
9. Do you read ahead or even skip pages?
10. Breaking the spine or keeping it like new?
11. Do you write in your books?
12. Who do you tag?

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Guest Post: Author Kevin Klehr Drama Queens


Ravenswood Publishing Virtual Tour Presents:
The Drama Queen Series
Title: The Drama Queen Series
Author: Kevin KIehr
Genre: LGBT Fiction

 Book One Synopsis:  Close friends Allan and Warwick are dead.  They're not crazy about the idea.  So to help them deal with this dilemma are Samantha, a blond bombshell from the 1950s, and Guy, an insecure angel.

They are soon drawn into the world of theater–Afterlife style, with all the bitchiness, back-stabbing and ego usually associated with the mortal world.

Allan also has a secret.  He has a romantic crush on his friend, Warwick; but shortly after confiding in his new angel pal, his love interest falls for the cock-sure playwright, Pedro.

Not only does Allan have to win the heart of his companion, he also has to grapple with the faded memory of how he actually died.

Book Two Synopsis:  Adam's about to discover how much drama a mid-life crisis can be.  He's obsessed with Mannix, the nude model in his art class.  But Adam has been married to Wade for nearly two decades, and they don't have an open relationship.

Little do they know that Fabien, a warlock from the Afterlife, has secretly cast a spell of lust on Adam and his potential toy-boy.

As things begin to heat up, Adam's guardian angel, Guy, steps in.  But what's the best way to save the relationship?  Should Guy subdue Adam's wandering passions, or instigate a steamy threesome?

The Author On Dreaming Up a Gay Angel

One evening a friend asked me about my writing. I talked about my surprise at how my gay angel character, Guy, seemed to win many readers’ hearts. And as the night flowed with much conversation and wine, I had an epiphany.

You see, back in the mid-80s when I moved to Sydney, I met a man who was an aspiring artist. He sold his soul to his paintbrush, determined to be as successful as the many avant-garde creatives he admired. He quickly became one of my closest friends.

He had an awkward personality, and although he was liked by those who I introduced him to, his social graces were underdeveloped. This had more to do with the fact that he was self-conscious of what he said and how he acted, and this combination brought out the parent in those he met.

He was unique. He was a guy who balanced part-time work, socialising, and art, making sure there was plenty of time for the latter, as this was his dream. So many hours were spent alone at the easel.

He shared several exhibitions with other artists, but there was one upcoming event he was really excited about – his own individual showcase in Perth. He never made this important event. He died of an asthma attack over the Easter weekend of 1990, one week before his important show.

In my novels, Guy the angel is awkward. He is self-conscious. He brings out the parent in his friends. Yet this character is loosely based on a completely different individual. When I talked about Guy after many wines the other night to a friend, I started wondering if he was really my old buddy.

My artist pal was twenty-eight when he passed away. Guy is about the same age. Both are tall. And in the second paragraph of Drama Queens with Love Scenes, my angel is described as having “a vanilla hint of gayness”. My artist friend denied it, but if he had lived…

The last time I saw him was a week before he died.

He actually said “good-bye”. It sounded so final. This was strange as whenever we parted he’d always make the point of reminding me of our next engagement, which on this occasion, was three weeks away.

I hugged him and something inside told me not to leave. That little voice was encouraging me to stay the night and get drunk with him. But it was Sunday evening and I was catching up with someone else. I always regret not listening to my gut feeling.

The character of Guy developed into his own, but I wonder whether I really just channelled my old friend. Was there a possibility that my subconscious had bled onto my keyboard? And as writers, are we simply doing this all the time without even realising it?


Excerpt from Drama Queens and Adult Themes (Book Two)

He had the perfect vee-shaped torso. The kind that would turn on a dozen potential lovers if he wandered into a gay bar. And while his faultless crew cut was artificially red, his other natural features were as intense as James Dean's. I could go riding in his sports car, feeling the breeze as we headed to Lover's Lane. He'd admire me with his penetrating eyes before undressing me for a lovemaking session so powerful, not even a night with a handpicked selection of porn stars would compare.

But unlike anyone I'd ever met, he was blessed with soft charcoal-colored wings. This was Guy's boyfriend, Joshua. I was back at that thespian drinking haven, the Pedestal, at some stage between going to bed and waking up the next morning.

I tried not to drool at this bad boy, while picturing myself taking off his well-fitted leather jacket, slowly. I wanted to let out an orgasmic moan, before any foreplay had begun.

"I think you need to sleep with Mannix," he said.

He sipped on a Bloody Mary.

"Joshua!" his loving partner reprimanded.

"Joshua, we tried," I said.

"And what happened, sweetheart?"

"He freaked out. He gives us all the signals and then runs off in terror."

"Tsk, tsk. Now why would he do that? You're not exactly on the ugly scale."

"Thanks," I replied. "I think."

"Joshua, that's not the issue here," Guy said. "I've been watching over them, and they're getting obsessed with Mannix. And just as odd, Mannix is obsessed with them. It doesn't make sense."

"What's there to make sense of, Petal? They're grown men looking for a bit of spice. This Mannix dude is the spice. Supply and demand. No problem."

"But Guy has a point," I said. "This is doing my head in. One minute, Wade and I are respectable grown men, the next we're one step away from toupees and face-lifts."

"And is this causing you two to argue? Fight? Split up?"

"Strangely, no."

I picked up my cocktail, resting the top of the glass on my lower lip before sipping slowly.

"Joshua, it's still causing drama," continued Guy. "Adam and Wade have their heads in no-man's land, and Mannix is just as bemused."

"Oh my darlings, they're men. Adult men. Every one of them. That which doesn't kill them, will make them stronger. Or separated but I can't see any hint of that. Can you, Adam?" I nodded tensely. "There, you see, Guy? It might be causing a bit of grief, but in the end, they're men. Once they stop questioning it with their emotions, they'll solve it physically and wonder why they didn't get down and dirty sooner."

I sat with the two angels, none-the-wiser. That dark-skinned woman was back on stage. Sultry jazz was her genre of choice today, and her small ensemble cruised into mellow tones that could set you adrift on a small boat. As she crooned the first lines of "Someone To Watch Over Me", Guy sang the words with her under his breath.

Around me, the mismatched furniture complemented the mismatched cast. A lone African woman, wearing more colors than a peacock's tail, stood transfixed as if the singer was secretly robbing her soul. Her fingers tapped on an imaginary piano, and her wide-eyed stare gave me goose bumps.

An old lady, dressed in clothes her own granddaughter would wear, clutched her wine glass like it was a precious jewel. At the same time, she gazed into the eyes of a mature athletic man who looked like he once had a passion for ballet dancing. Their loving gaze reminded me of the way Wade sometimes looked at me.

"So, Joshua, you think we're making too much of a big deal about this?"

He rubbed the tip of his sculptured jawline as Guy casually leaned toward him.

"Adam, darling, there are men who put themselves through hell and back trying to do the right thing. They won't act until they work out all the final consequences. And let's face it, as much pontificating as humanly possible is not ever going to let you know the final outcome, really! And there are men who are a lot more spirited and take life as a challenge. Go forth and take the risk and see where it leads you."

"Joshua, Adam understands that," Guy said. "But there's Wade to consider. What if their marriage falls apart?"

"Darling, seriously. From what you've told me, they're not going to fall apart. It's all just a bit of fun. Mannix is a new appliance, like a fridge or a vibrator. Something that has a use. And think, Adam. Think of the uses you can come up with, with your new appliance."


Author & Links

Kevin lives with his long-term partner in their humble apartment (affectionately named Sabrina), in Australia's own 'Emerald City,' Sydney.

From an early age, Kevin had a passion for writing, jotting down stories and plays until it came time to confront puberty.  After dealing with pimple creams and facial hair, Kevin didn't pick up a pen again until he was in his thirties.  His handwritten manuscript was being committed to paper when his social circumstances changed, giving him no time to write.  Concerned, his partner, Warren, snuck the notebook out to a friend who in turn came back and demanded Kevin finish his novel.  It wasn't long before Kevin's active imagination was let loose again.

Kevin's first novel, Drama Queens with Love Scenes, has been relaunched via Wilde City Press along with the sequel Drama Queens with Adult Themes.

Kevin is currently working on his third in the series, Drama Queens and Devilish Schemes, and a romance novella, Nathan and the New Yorker.

Currently Available At:




Sunday, May 3, 2015

Michael's Mini Haul

Hey-hey now! After work Saturday–which was hellish and something I refuse to get into–I got to spin around town and enjoy the rest of my day. From finding $5 books, to buying energy drinks that don’t energy, I eventually made a stop at Michaels Arts & Crafts. With pens drying up and erasers that has more erase than eraser, I did a quick inventory check in my head as to what I would need before I went in there and really lost my mind shopping. I knew I absolutely had to stay away from the sticker and scrap booking area. Since that’s where I usually go ham ‘n’ cheese in the wallet with ideas.


I think it’s apparent these are off-brand markers (Artist‘s Loft?), but I was good with that once I found them. I really needed some fine tip markers and ran across this 36 piece pack for $4.99. I only use markers for those small, precision details; and I really needed a brown marker, seeing that my current one was all dried up and buying a replacement was $2! So after options browsing, I settled on this pack to get what I need to get done.


More than anything, I needed a new ink pen. My lovely, lovely Precise V5 is on its last roll, causing the remaining ink to sputter out. I think everybody knows how much I love that pen for inking. I've been using that brand for years and can seem to find the pens at Wal-Mart. I don't think it’s a crafting pen, but what the hell.  

So I got this Faber-Castell Black India Ink pen with the same 0.8mm nib. It’s not rolling ball, but its nib isn't prone to smudging and absorbs fast. It wasn't until I got home that I realized I’ve bought one of these Faber-Castell 0.8mm pens before. And from my understanding, it dried out before I ever really used it. Unless I used it up during an art course. Anyway, the pen was $3.99 so that had better be the case.

Lastly, I finally got a new eraser for everything but penciling. White eraser for pencil. Gummy eraser for pastels. Then I got home and realized I needed a new white eraser too. So is life. Anyway, this tri-tip eraser was $1.99. I love that it does have three tips because that'll help with precision, and keep me from chopping off smudged pieces from previous erasing endeavors.

I think I budged well. All this for $11.96. Anyway, buying art supplies is an investment, right?  I still need another pad of bristol board and a portfolio.  Maybe next time.

Hope you guys continue to have a great weekend! And keep drawing. No matter how good or how bad you think you are, always ART!

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Taken in Death

I'm not done with J. D. Robb. Not just yet. With two novellas (or is it novelettes?) to find and complete, only then I will be officially caught up. Luckily, my local library had a copy of the novella anthology, Mirror, Mirror (2013), featuring an In Death short called Taken in Death.

Taken in Death features a story about fraternal twins, Gala and Henry’s, kidnapping from their New York East Side home. Unfortunate for the twins–and their nanny–the parents are out of town when this incident happens. This leaves the twins’ nanny to fight with their abductor, leading to her murder and the call for New York City homicide lieutenant Eve Dallas. Upon reviewing the home’s security footage, it seems as if the children’s mother committed the murder/kidnap. However, when the twins’ parents arrive upon the scene, it appears that it was, in fact, the crazed and highly deranged twin of their mother found entering the home.

Sounds crazy, right? Well, it really was. Crazy and warped. I've long recognized that it’s these In Death shorts that allow Robb to really go to town with twisted villains. And I mean this one was twisted. We're talking cannibalistic, blood-licking twisted. Nevertheless, there’s a theme here. The theme is fairytale villains, spirited-away children, heroes, breadcrumb trails, and the consumption of tampered sweets. And that’s exactly how Taken in Death operates, with its In Death characters and police procedural bend.

This was easily one of the better In Death novellas. A few were boring and forgettable, but Taken was a thrill that I had no choice but to swallow in one sitting.  Now I need to find a copy of The Unquieted anthology, which features the novella Chaos in Death.  Then, I'll be good until September.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Okay. I gave in for $5


I feel somewhat like a cheap whore. Let me explain why. You see, after all that fussing I did about Sandra Brown, suspense romance, and her formulaic writing; I crawled back to her for $5. (According to my library’s used bookstore, that’s expensive.) So as you can see, I’m now the owner of Brown’s latest, Mean Streak. To be fair, I did say in that video that I wanted to try Mean Streak. I also prayed that it wouldn't be a frustrating disappointment similar to her 2013 release, Deadline. I pray even more that it isn't as awful as Smash Cut (which I consider the worse). 

Nevertheless, I saw it on display the minute I stepped inside, and I couldn't resist it for that price. I've held out since its release last August, and now I'm going to copy and paste its Goodreads synopsis so you guys can tell me if it sounds promising or not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dr. Emory Charbonneau, a pediatrician and marathon runner, disappears on a mountain road in North Carolina. By the time her husband Jeff, miffed over a recent argument, reports her missing, the trail has grown cold. Literally. Fog and ice encapsulate the mountainous wilderness and paralyze the search for her.

While police suspect Jeff of "instant divorce," Emory, suffering from an unexplained head injury, regains consciousness and finds herself the captive of a man whose violent past is so dark that he won't even tell her his name. She's determined to escape him, and willing to take any risks necessary to survive. 

Unexpectedly, however, the two have a dangerous encounter with people who adhere to a code of justice all their own. At the center of the dispute is a desperate young woman whom Emory can't turn her back on, even if it means breaking the law.

As the FBI closes in on her captor, Emory begins to wonder if the man with no name is, in fact, her rescuer.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I see the formula.  It's screaming in my face.  And yet... I can't resist....  I'm a slave to some authors.  I have to learn to accept that. 

Naked Jacqueline Kirby

Jacqueline Kirby is back for the final time in Naked Once More. For her last murder mystery, Kirby has settled with becoming the popular, bestseller author of two books. Her ex-librarian days are behind her, and it’s time to keep her winning momentum with a third book. She has ideas. She has potential drafts.  She has the will. However, she’s not 100% sure of her direction, until her literary agent calls her for lunch to discuss a project that may be worth her efforts.

Kathleen Darcy collected millions off her debut novel, Naked in the Ice. From her publisher's advance, a movie deal, and heavy promotion, she’s created just enough wealth to take care of her family.  This also provides her leeway (as well as pressure) to start on her second novel. With an outline partially at hand, matters seem promising until a string of "accidents" start to happen to Kathleen. Accidents so frequent that Kathleen soon finds herself driven over a cliff.  Her body unfound, the locals and her family label her fate as suicide.

Seven years later, Kathleen’s agent, family, and family attorneys have come together to audition and interview a few popular authors for the task of completing Kathleen's second book. And that's where Jacqueline Kirby’s agent shoots her the idea of taking a part in the auditions. It would be perfect for Jacqueline’s career–so he says. While it took some heavy convincing to the forever cynical Jacqueline, she eventually nails the project.  Afterwards, she decides to temporarily relocate to Kathleen’s town to dig into the late author’s files, and uncover everything she needs to produce the sequel properly. Unfortunately, a stream of accidents begins to happen to Jacqueline as well. Accidents meant to stop Jacqueline from uncovering some of Kathleen’s secrets. On the other hand, maybe something else entirely.

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