Saturday, August 22, 2015

Cornwell's Totem Pole | Win Lamont Sykes


So moved by my Pickles & Scarpetta post, I had to find a means to get this pressuring need for a Cornwell read out of my system. I didn't necessarily want to re-read a Kay Scarpetta book, though. Nor did I want to continue and complete Cornwell's Andy Brazil series; I started it in the summer of 2011 and only managed to finish the first book before I put the series on hold. However, there was one more alternative available–which was to catch Cornwell's two-book series featuring her Massachusetts state investigator character, Winston Garano ("Win" or "Geronimo"). Told in the presence-tense–which is probably better suited where the series serialized as a 15-part series in The New York Times magazine–I have to say that I felt the series started kind of strong. Now before I get into how "strong" it started, let me preface that with "rocky as hell" "weird" and "exaggeratedly present." Not one of those phrases are unoriginal when it comes to Cornwell, or unfamiliar to me when it concerns her writing (trying reading the first book in her Andy Brazil series). Nonetheless, let's get into book one, At Risk, and book two The Front.

At Risk

"A Massachusetts state investigator is called home from Knoxville, Tennessee, where he is completing a course at the National Forensic Academy. His boss, the district attorney, attractive but hard-charging, is planning to run for governor, and as a showcase she's planning to use a new crime initiative called At Risk; its motto: "Any crime, any time." In particular, she's been looking for a way to employ cutting-edge DNA technology, and she thinks she's found the perfect subject in an unsolved twenty-year-old murder—in Tennessee. If her office solves the case, it ought to make them all look pretty good, right? 

Her investigator is not so sure—not sure about anything to do with this woman, really—but before he can open his mouth, a shocking piece of violence intervenes, an act that shakes up not only both their lives but also the lives of everyone around them. It's not a random event. Is it personal? Is it professional? Whatever it is, the implications are very, very bad indeed ... and they're about to get much worse."

Brevity.  It's the number one–and I mean number one–reason why I thought At Risk was an okay read.  Ballpark?  Never.  Engaging just enough?  Certainly. So yes, the brevity in all surrounding areas gave At Risk motion. Whether it's character, setting, theme (I'm not conscious whether there was one); brevity was the book's saving grace. Granted, as I stated before, the series originally operated in The New York Times magazine, through a stream of weekly story articles

Nonetheless, in contrast to some page-filler feats featured in Cornwell's Scarpetta and Brazil series, At Risk did a lot less of characters standing around over-analyzing crime scenes/circumstances throughout a number of pages. At Risk was, in fact, fast-paced. A thrilling fast pace, though? Not so much. Did Cornwell weave a number of character threads and plot points, coinciding with her usual overdrawn and poorly-plotted standards? Yes. However, the muddled trap of page-filler-material didn't tangle up the narrative and motion–which I thought made the book easy to traverse. So you're not stuck in scenes where narrative/information is messy and unloaded like a commercial truck tipped on the freeway (because of ambitiously swerving directions) and characters aren't overstaying his or her welcome inside of a scene.  

But what I really, really want to write about is the way the main characters took the stage.  Why?  Because despite everything else semi-sorta worth talking about, this is what stuck me; spilling into my displeasure of the second book, The Front.

The characters.  I found most of them either on the brink of caricature-esque, dull, or cryptically unusual with the seldom practical individual mixed in. But let's talk about the main character first, Winston Granano. Actually, let me be quite frank in stating how boring he came across. And to be extremely clear, I would freely say that his investigator partner/comrade/colleague assisting him with his investigation was far more engaging and productive.  Now I won't give all honors to said assistant, but dammit did she bring what I came to At Risk for. 

Even so, Winston is bi-racial. He's of Italian and African ancestry, and an unrestrained expression of a sex magnet. That's a winning ticket right there, as outside characters can't seem to help but prattle about his good looks.  And I could agree, I suppose.  Only it got obnoxious after the tenth time, which didn't seem to help the credibility of his character or direction.  Seriously, for a minute I questioned whether he was a efficient investigator, or an efficient investigator after his undeniable sex appeal?  Luckily, he had a grandmother strung on the idea of psychics and hoodoo to keep his character grounded.  Visits with her and her prophecies over his choices were always welcoming. 

Outside of Winston's sex appeal ticket, Cornwell gave him an interesting past to go along with his heritage.  So as the story progressed, I decided that she did a decent job of shaping him out to be a heroically diplomatic justice seeker.  However, I felt his dealings were mostly overshadowed by Cornwell's foxy ambitious district attorney character, Monique Lamont.

Think of Lamont in red Jimmy Choo with matching $16 M.A.C. lipstick. An Armani ensemble of a pencil skirt and loosely buttoned blouse and blazer. An attitude in hand, and ruthlessly crafty when it concerns gathering her goals. She, in all of her limelight-stealing glory, damn near over-road Winston's character. And considering she's his boss, she had him under her thumb from a number of angles. One of those angles were the progression of his career/studies back in Knoxville, where she sent him to the National Forensics Academy pre-At Risk.  She is, quite plainly, a desperately enterprising hot mess. And with all that overdrawn characterization and subtle glamour, Cornwell did Lamont a favor by knocking her down a host of egocentric pegs.  Naturally, Winston came to pick up the pieces. When Lamont uses her tragedy as a chess piece toward her governor-focused goals, you can do little more than notice how Winston becomes her lapdog and struggling voice of reason in the process.  But you never quite get the truth of their relationship.  Is it based on simply respect?  Attraction?  What?

Well, who needs them in the end?

In my eyes, the true hero/star of At Risk was Winston's partner back in Knoxville, Delma Sykes. A little older than Winston, and somewhat driven by her attraction toward him, she's the character who (as far as I'm concerned) did the real legwork.  See, Winston and Lamont were busy trapped in verbal scrimmages about politics and shady political moves. Meanwhile, Delma was the character Winston sought out to gather information on the cold case handed to him by Lamont. That meant Sykes was visiting and speaking with law enforcement members behind the investigation. She was shuffling through their record boxes, tracking down receipts, knocking on doors, beating bushes, and confronting liars.  She, essentially, put Winston's case together for him and Lamont. All the while, Sykes risked her career with time spent uncovering the cold case instead of meeting the demands of the National Forensics Academy.  

Sykes may seem foolish, giving up her time to assist Winston who sat on the edge of Lamont's desk the whole while.  However, I personally found myself piqued as her drive and determination displayed the engine to the book's mystery.  She was the sleuth.  The gem.  The character whom toyed with relatable stakes–even as far as confronting the killer.

So on everything I love, At Risk was her book!  And she was the reason why I even liked it.

Such an odd thing, though. And one that I found severely disappointing when I went into the second book, The Front, and found her character nowhere to be found. Which, quite frankly, is the reason why I don't care to write about The Front. That should tell you everything you need to know about this series.  And how shady Cornwell can be toward her characters.  (Yes, yes.  I say that as a joke.)

The Front

Slick move on me? I know.  However, the book is hardly memorable without Delma Sykes, or a character focused on the project (no matter how mundane and disinterest-breeding) at hand. I mean, we are talking about a crime fiction drama. Nevertheless, there were a few kooky classic Cornwell characters present (one being a woman with a prosthetic leg).  Still, outside of the return of Monique Lamont and Winston's grandmother's brighter role, nothing else really... well... changed from the first book. But seriously, The Front was probably on par with someone's outline. I honestly can't recall anything about this book that I can find worth talking about. Nevertheless, I'll give you a piece of Goodreads' synopsis just in case you can think of something:

"And in The Front, peril is what comes to them all. D.A. Lamont has a special job for Garano. As part of a new public relations campaign about the dangers of declining neighborhoods, she's sending him to Watertown to "come up with a drama," and she thinks she knows just the case that will serve. Garano is very skeptical, because he knows that Watertown is also the home base for a loose association of municipal police departments called the FRONT, set up in order that they don't have to be so dependent on the state--much to Lamont's anger. He senses a much deeper agenda here--but he has no idea just how deep it goes. In the days that follow, he'll find that Lamont's task, and the places it leads him, will resemble a house of mirrors--everywhere he turns, he's not quite sure if what he's seeing is true."

In keeping with all I've just stated, it would be interesting to watch the Lifetime movie adaptation of both books.  Other than that, I'll just let this disappointing series be.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Into Mama's Cradle

Now for a mystery filled with characters closer to my own heart–and ones that make me want to take down a plate of bone-sticking soul food. Mama Rocks the Empty Cradle is book six in Nora DeLoach’s southern, black, murder-solving mother and daughter crime-fighting duo series. While I skipped the unowned book five (I halted over a year because of my slipping reading OCD), I decided to pick this short read up to reinvigorate the completionist in me.  Eventually, I'll go back and order book five before I proceed further.

Mama (real name Grace, often nicknamed Candi) and her daughter, Atlanta-based paralegal, Simone, are solving the murder of a young mother in Cradle. After having a bunion operation, Mama asks Simone to assist her in mundane endeavors; grocery shopping to illustrate one. It’s on one of these routine visits to the local Winn Dixie where Mama’s social services gears rocket to the sound of a screaming baby, a couple of aisles over. Together with Simone, Mama finds old Miss Birdie failing to coddle the wailing baby.  However, it's apparent who the baby actually belongs to, and why Miss Birdie has absolutely no business with this child.  With the baby’s mother hot on Miss Birdie’s trail, it appears Miss Birdie snatched the baby from the mother’s car as she went into the Shell station to pay for gas (basically leaving her baby alone to have been snatched–among other things). Known for having a anomalous reputation around town, Mama and Simone can only wonder if Miss Birdie is connected when the baby's mother is later found burgeoned to death.

And if that wasn’t enough, Mama’s dog keeps coming home with the bones of small children. Where is he digging up these bones? And whose deceased children does the bones belong to?

Told in the first-person, Simone (once again) leads us on the investigation.


SOUTHERN BLACK-AMERICAN TWIST

This series has the appealing taste of an old, England-style cozy mystery with a Southern Black-American twist. I love this because it’s told in a voice/setting both amiable and familiar to my own–having been born and raised in Alabama (although the series take place a state over in Georgia). Now the books are certainly not the most thrilling or well-constructed mysteries. And they often feel a touch too runny and short. However, they are extraordinarily unique because they are mysteries containing people of color, further niched within the Southern; think fried chicken, sass, slang, flavored limericks, and small-town murders.  Her stories are filled with recognizable threads within black traditions, many expressed by characters in standard old wives fashion.  Furthermore, she does light Morrison-esque plunges into stories of generations gone array, to effect the present.  These stories usually resulting as the engine of the mystery.

And let's be clear, southerners are known for creating individual nicknames.  So you have characters like Cricket, Nightmare, and Eyelet to help usher in the soulful charm of the books.  And their amusing eccentricities doesn't fall into the ridiculousness of a minstrel show.  Thank God.

“Just about that time, Koot Rawlins, a large woman known for being full of gas, swung into the aisle and belched. Koot’s shopping cart was full of lima beans, rice, fatback bacon, and Pepsis. She nodded a greeting but kept walking.”

“When I got Mama back to the house, I gave her two Meprozine capsules and made her as comfortable as I could. Then I fixed lunch–chicken soup, grilled cheese, a diet coke, and a small bowl of ice cream. No sooner had she eaten, Mama fell asleep.”



MESSAGE ME, DELOACH

But on to what’s special about Mama Rocks the Empty Cradle. Nora DeLoach always approaches subjects often judged, unfairly criticized, or unspoken of in the black community. In Mama Rocks the Empty Cradle, DeLoach uses both Mama and her daughter Simone to tackle the subject of black single-mothers, abortion, domestic abuse, and mental illness.  And she does so smoothly, and without the heavy preaching and "example" consequences provided by some of the characters' fates.

It virtually goes without saying how our community avoid psychotherapy as a solution to matters such as depression and stress. It also almost goes without saying that black single mothers gain a broader societal rap than any of their counterparts. The black church often comes to blame, almost asking our pardon from seeking the influence of professional help because of the attaching stigmas.  So what a relief as DeLoach approaches all of this with the patience, tenderness, and wisdom of her character Mama and Simone.  Additionally, she does so without the pounding of religious rhetoric.  The two characters are very sensible and pragmatic in this way; Mama much more than Simone, and with good reason when you consider their differing occupations.

Simone’s thoughts on her friend’s contemplating abortion:

“She was right. This was Yasmine’s decision, not mine. And I knew my friend had not made her decision carelessly, whether I agreed with it or not. I took a deep breath, trying to take the edge out of my voice. ‘I’m not your judge. But I am feeling that having an abortion ain’t the thing to do!’”

Mama’s perspective on the single-mother character and mental illness: 

“’You know, Simone, both her mother and father died in a car wreck when she was only two years old. Oh, she’s got plenty of family to look after her, but she was a very lonely young woman. The day after Morgan was born, I visited Cricket at the hospital again. She confided in me that she’d deliberately stopped taking her pills and gotten pregnant because she wanted somebody to share her life with. She felt that now that she had given birth to Morgan, she would never feel alone again. That’s why I know she was a good mother. I know she’d never deliberately mistreat her baby.’”

And here–despite the slight struggle in the mystery area–lies the diamonds.  Nora DeLoach's series is just too alluring to turn away from–for me at least.  I regret spending a year sitting on my butt instead of ordering book five so that I could continue on.  However, as this read, you can guarantee I'm going back on track.  I'm eager to hear more of what Mama has to say.

Reading Updates & Book-Order ~ On The River


I haven’t done anything all summer but work, read, and try to make sure my new car won’t quit on me while on the road.  Luckily, my best friend (who has also been through much, much more this summer) wanted to put together a trip to Guntersville, Alabama.  The plan: to eat at the famed catfish and seafood restaurant, Top O’ The River.  It was a well-deserved trip from both ends, and was even better with her cousin coming along. 

This was my first time there–although in the past my mom repeatedly proposed how we needed to take the 45+ minute drive to do the same.  She, my aunt and sister went a couple of weeks ago.  Meanwhile, I stood in front of a register for eight hours on a beautiful Sunday (that's me being bitterly melodramatic).  Nonetheless, I finally made it there Friday.  And yes, I took the entire weekend off as a mini-vacation.

Naturally, I have to share some of the pictures as well as the short video I filmed as we waited for the restaurant to open up.  In the video, I just wanted to update viewers on my reading progress.  I also shared some of the recent books I’ve order.  That aside, here are a few pictures I snapped...



Obviously, this picture didn't come out as majestic as it was while present.  But I left it in the mix anyway.  The mountains and river surrounding the small town of Guntersville is pretty cute.  All you'll see is boats, canoes, and trucks; its a community that capitalizes on the surrounding river like it's nobody's business.  For a split moment or two, I felt like I was in Cabet Cove.  Their downtown is a hell of a lot livelier than ours–to be so small.  And there appears to be only one way in and out of the town.

All that aside, this is what the parking lot looked like after one blink.


This is a bad pic of the restaurant.  I'm no photographer, so pardon this.  Nevertheless, there's a story here.  The fact is the restaurant doesn't open until late in the afternoon.  Apparently, it gets so busy that you have to be present and ready as the doors open to get a table.  I snapped this picture quickly, and minutes before the lines started to form as the doors open.  

The building looks pretty small and average sized, right?  Well, it's a whole different story inside.  Not only is it two floors, but the restaurant's floor layout seems like it stretches over a mile.  I loved their wooden booths because they were high-backed (or whatever you call them).  This lended a little intimacy and privacy for me and my friends; further expressed as we pulled up the shades to gain a good view of the river the restaurant sits on.


This is the waiting area, should there be no seating available.  Lucky for us, we skipped this process.  I can only imagine what this area looks like on a Sunday afternoon once church is out.  

The whole time we were there, I felt like this place had a system going.  And that system started with the abundance of staff.  Speaking of which, the service was certainly nice.  I did enjoy our waitress, and am never one to be stingy with tipping.


Now on to the catfish.  I don't know anybody from the South who doesn't prize some good catfish.  And Top O' the River certainly served.  


This plate is the River Special; catfish fillets, hush puppies, baked potatoes or fries.  It was all delicious.  What I loved about their catfish in particularly was how it wasn't filmy between the breading and the filet.  That was a big, big plus.  Instead, you cut right into steaming meat.  Had I requested hot sauce (you know, because I am black), it probably would've took this to the next level.  Instead, I settled with their homemade tartar sauce in absorption of their flavor.  And it won.  Everything you see here, I basically ate.  Of course with the exception of the foil, potato skin, and half a hush puppies.  

Oh!  I've never had pickled onions.  To get your meal started, you're served a dish of these pickled onions, cole slaw, and cornbread.  All of it amazing!

The restaurant also serves steak, chicken strips, shrimp, and so forth.  I had a great time and plan to go back with my family next weekend, as well as return with my friends in the fall.

If you've ever been, share your experience in the comments.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Un-Taxed Used Books


Tax-free weekend saw me taking on a local used bookstore–just to make sure I took advantage of such a money-saving opportunity. With little in mind book-wise (partly because Sue Grafton’s latest doesn’t come out until two weeks), I decided to spend the early part of Saturday afternoon hunting for a few Nevada Barr books. You know, because Track of the Cat served.

So first I got A Superior Death, book number two in Barr’s Anna Pigeon series. It took a little hunting, but I found it in the stacks (not one to give up). Evidently, A Superior Death sees park ranger, and back country amateur sleuth, Anna Pigeon, down at Isle Royale National Park in Michigan. The kick is Anna will be scuba diving.  She discovers a crew of dead, buried underneath a wrecked ship. It screams adventure, and I always love a good water-time mystery.

Next I found book number three in the Anna Pigeon series. Ill Wind has Anna at the Mesa Verde National Park, located in Montezuma County, Colorado. Apparently, Ill Wind sees visitors of the park falling sick to some mysterious illness. Top on the accidental death of a child, along with one of Anna’s ranger friends, and we’re in for a mystery with a Native American twist.

Had I found the fourth book in the series, I would’ve grabbed that one next. But I didn’t.

So I browsed a little more trying to catch up on some Alt, Muller, Gaines, Peters, and Neely. I found myself unsuccessful with them all. However, the first book in Susan Wittig Albert’s China Bayles mystery series found me. I’ve heard of Albert, but never explored her character and stories. Led by curiosity, I grabbed the book. 

Apparently, her series takes place in small-town Texas. A 42-year-old attorney named China Bayles narrates the series. And her first investigation revolves around the death of her friend, Jo Gilbert. Jo’s battling cancer, until she’s found dead from sleeping pills washed down with vodka. Claims are that it’s suicide. However, China Bayles knows differently.  Color me excited to start a new series–while saving a penny or two.

Here goes last week's endeavors (since I missed posting them)...


Read any of these books?  Sound off in the comments below!

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

What the Love!

Elizabeth Peters’ has her most famous Egypt-trekking sleuth, Amelia Peabody. She has her chain-smoke ex-librarian, and my personal favorite, Jacqueline Kirby. Then she has this third sleuth I’ve never read named Vicky Bliss. Not quite sure what her hook is. Lastly, Peters has a number of stand-alones where she can continues to play with her writing, creativity, humor, and strong brushes of various oddball-ness.  It all coalesce into something right on the brim of thought-provoking, but only if you pay close attention.  I've long learned that an Elizabeth Peters book asks more from the reader than what's at face value.  Her books may be humorous and eccentric, but there's a darker commentary present that usually relays the ugly side of human behavior.  Though that commentary doesn't take itself too seriously.

This is all evident in her stand-alone novel, The Love Talker. And it seems the topic of The Lover Talker revolves around Irish fairy lore. Nevertheless, let me back up just a second to run down what The Love Talker is about.

Monday, August 3, 2015

~ 9. FINAL Back 2 High School-Towel Style ~

The final four pages of my junior year comic.  It's incomplete.  It's a cliff-hanger.  It's all of my writing/drawing fantasies manifested at 17.  Towel has official transformed and is going into battle.  Yet, the battle is incomplete.  Continue forward, and see how all those Naoko Takeuchi influences come to life.






One day... I'll redo and finish this...
Thanks for following along.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Nevada Barr's Pigeon Bar

I’m officially in Nevada Barr’s bar. What a corny way to open this post, right? But please excuse me as I lament my new found enthusiasm for this author.  I recently finished Nevada Barr’s Track of the Cat, and found myself covered with giddiness for more. It's book one in Barr’s park ranger, Anna Pigeon, series. It’s also a first for me–concerning Barr. Nonetheless, the park ranger business is Barr’s hook, so her female sleuth is essentially catching killers in national parks (apparently different parks across the country, per series entry). Sounds pretty interesting and unique, right?  Well, I would say yes.

So let me quickly set up Track of the Cat for you. Written in the third, Track of the Cat opens with Anna Pigeon semi-fresh out of her internship and officially a park ranger out on business. And it’s hot business. It's Texas back country. It's the Guadalupe Mountain National Park where Anna is following a routine patrol tracking local mountain lion activity. After giving up the hustle and bustle of New York City, Anna’s at peace monitoring wildlife populations over the unpredictable urban life. Unfortunately, her patrol uncovers the body of a fellow park ranger.  Examining the body, it appears Anna’s colleague’s death was caused by a mountain lion mauling. But there’s something off. Something wrong. What was the victim doing out in the park alone, with no visible water canteen attached to her pack? 

As more clues mount, and news spread how a mountain lion is dangerously on the loose, Anna quickly has to piece together the murder.  Especially because rangers are rounding up to find the mountain lion deemed responsible.  It's an injustice Anna is determined to block.  Naturally, the more Anna uncovers, the further she becomes prey to the victim’s killer.

Now let's just get into what sold me the most!  There's two things: Setting & Anna.

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