Archive for the ‘Inspirational stuff’ Category
Check Out Today’s SlingWords “Christmas Past” Blog…Featuring 12 Great Authors (Including Me)
Folks, author Joan Reeves has been generous enough to share space on her blog, SlingWords, for a “Christmas Past Promotion.”
What does that mean? Ms. Reeves asked for a link to a book of our choosing (for me, it’s obviously AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE as that’s my only book thus far) and for a past Christmas memory.
Please check out the promotion at SlingWords forthwith, as there should be any number of interesting writers for you to “meet,” not to mention finding new books that interest you — just in time for Christmas!
In case you were wondering, though, here’s my Christmas memory:
In 2001, I was talking with an interesting man named Michael on Christmas Eve. We’d known each other about six months, had been introduced by a mutual friend — and you’d think nothing of this, except this was a long-distance relationship where we’d only met each other once due to him living in San Francisco and me in Iowa.
Anyway, Michael and I were talking. It was Christmas Eve. My family was far away, and his was, too…so we talked and talked and talked, and didn’t care about how much money it cost because hey, it was Christmas Eve. Before we knew it, we’d talked for nearly thirty-six hours in a row about everything under the sun. And at the end of that time, he told me, “I hope we can consider ourselves dating now.”
That was the beginning of my romance with the love of my life, my late husband, Michael B. Caffrey. It is the most precious memory I have…and it happened on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, 2001.
(Yes, miracles truly do happen.)
For those of you with sharp eyes, yes, I’ve talked about this before, most notably at Murder By 4 in my guest blog last year. It is one of the most precious memories I have, and it did indeed happen at Christmas.
As I’ve said here many times, without Michael, I doubt I would’ve written AN ELFY ON THE LOOSE. I doubt I’d have finished CHANGING FACES (coming in 2015 from Twilight Times Books), either, and I certainly wouldn’t have written any military science fiction at all, whether it was to finish Michael’s stories or not.
Sometimes, one person can make a huge difference in someone’s life. Michael B. Caffrey obviously made a huge difference in mine (please check out my prior blog about Michael’s transformational life if you don’t believe me). He was encouraging, kind, knowledgeable, a skilled editor, and knew how to structure a novel. Between learning from him and working on my craft since, I’ve become a better writer, a better editor, and a far better person.
It is because I took a chance on Christmas Eve back in 2001 that I met and married the most wonderful person I have ever known — Michael B. Caffrey.
Thank you, Joan Reeves, for giving me the chance to spread the word about my work…and more importantly, about my husband.
Jim Valvano and Michael B. Caffrey: Transformational Lives
On this, the tenth anniversary of my husband Michael B. Caffrey’s passing, I want to discuss something interesting I’ve recently watched. Something I hadn’t expected to have parallels with my husband’s life . . . but actually did.
This, oddly enough, was the ESPN 30 for 30 documentary Survive and Advance, about the 1983 NCAA Champion North Carolina State Wolfpack and their charismatic coach, Jim Valvano.
For those who don’t know much about sports, you may not know much about Jim Valvano. He died in 1993 after a yearlong battle with bone cancer at the age of 47. But even though he’s been dead now for 21 years, Valvano’s shadow continues to linger — in a good way.
Valvano was a coach who believed very strongly in his players, in his team, and in dreams. (Yes, I said dreams.) He believed if you couldn’t dream something and believe it would happen, you couldn’t achieve it. And he actually had his team rehearse things like cutting down the basketball net (something done after winning a very important game, like a national championship), because he wanted them to know deep down to the bottom of their souls that they could do anything.
Valvano — affectionately known by his players as “Coach V” — lived a transformational life.
But what goes into making a transformational life, anyway? Was it the charisma, which is still evident in this speech (at the 1993 ESPY Awards, when Valvano was eight short weeks from death)? Was it the sheer tenacity of the man, who gave as his personal philosophy this phrase — “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.” — as part of that same speech? Was it because Valvano was one of the best basketball coaches the East Coast ever produced?
It was all of that, but it was also something more. Jim Valvano made people believe they could do it. He was a positive, inspirational force of nature, with the outsized personality of a stand-up comedian but a heart as big as the Atlantic Ocean. And he made people believe in themselves — not just his 1983 Wolfpack team, but the many people who heard his motivational speeches, read his autobiography, and heard his final major speech at the ’93 ESPYs.
Having a talent like that is incredibly rare.
I’ve only known one person who had it in my entire life: my late husband, Michael. Though Michael was not an outsized personality — certainly not like Valvano, at any rate — he had a presence that was beyond anything I’ve ever known. A certainty, a positivity, and a belief that I could do anything I wanted no matter the obstacle. No matter how many times I might stumble. No matter how many times I might actually fall.
He believed I could do it. More than that: he believed I would do it.
Watching Survive and Advance was both inspirational and heartbreaking for two reasons. One, Valvano died at age 47; Michael died at 46. And two, there were so many things in there that “Coach V” said that reminded me of my husband . . . it’s hard to explain, because Michael’s manner was nothing like Jim Valvano at all.
But the message — the powerful, motivational message — was exactly the same.
The words that rang truest of all were these, again from Valvano’s ’93 ESPY speech:
“”Cancer can take away all of my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart, and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever.”
My husband did not have cancer. He instead died of several heart attacks in one day, without warning, to the point his ventricle failed him. But he once told me that no matter what happened to him — as he believed his own health wasn’t all that wonderful — he believed his heart, his mind, and his soul would endure. And he’d never stop loving me. He’d never stop caring about me. And he’d never, ever stop believing in me.
He told me that about a year before he died, when I was about to go in for a needed surgery that I was fearful of, and I have never forgotten it.
I know that Jimmy V’s life was lived in the public eye. Michael’s certainly wasn’t. Michael’s life didn’t touch nearly as many people — how could it?
But Michael is remembered by many. He helped many writers, including the late Ric Locke, with his editing. He helped many people believe they could indeed do exactly what they put their mind to doing . . . and that’s what makes a transformational life.
You come into contact with someone like that, and your whole life changes. It gets better, because you can do more. Even through the mourning, you can still do more. And you get up every day and you try your level best, because you want to be worthy of that belief.
My husband would be astonished that I’d mention him in this particular context, especially as he was also a sports fan. He’d probably see absolutely no parallels between himself and the famous “Coach V.”
But he’d be wrong.
It’s because Michael lived, and was with me, that I continue to do what I do. His loss was so painful that I continue to struggle with it, ten years later . . . but it’s because I knew him, was married to him, and got to see how he overcame his own obstacles that I have refused to give up.
If that’s not the epitome of what a transformational life is all about, I don’t know what is.
————
Note: If you want to read Michael’s writing — and I hope at least some of you do — please take a look at the two stories I’ve been able to put up as independent e-books over at Amazon: “A Dark and Stormy Night” and “Joey Maverick: On Westmount Station.” These are both stories of military science fiction, though the first is while Ensign Joey Maverick is on leave and participating in a “low-tech” sailing regatta (meaning approximately 20th Century tech) and the second is when newly-minted Lieutenant Maverick is about to ship out for the first time. In essence, the first story is a search-and-rescue story with some romance, and the second story is that of a young officer stopping an unexpected saboteur at a very early hour in a completely unexpected place.
A third story has been started (a bridge story, written by me with some details from Michael’s notes), and I’ve also written two stories in Michael’s universe from a different perspective entirely that are currently making the rounds (if all rounds end up exhausted, they, too, will end up as e-books).
So at least some of Michael’s words continue to live, which is what I vowed when Michael died suddenly. And if I have anything to say about it — if I get enough time on this Earth — all of them will.
U.S. Figure Skater Jeremy Abbott Falls Hard, Wins Big (at Life)
Today, I witnessed something I’ve never before seen in my many years of watching figure skating. Reigning United States men’s champion Jeremy Abbott, who’s had his share of troubles in the Olympics already, took a very hard fall in the Olympic men’s short program at Sochi, lay on the ice for nearly twenty seconds . . . then got up and skated the rest of his program cleanly and with energy.
This was a big win for Abbott, even though it wasn’t reflected in the score column overmuch.
You see, Abbott, over the years, has had many problems with his nerves. They are well-documented, they are pervasive, and while they are also completely understandable (I doubt many of us would do well under so much scrutiny), they’ve kept him from attaining his immense potential — at least at the international level.
Martin Rogers of Yahoo Sports quoted Abbott afterward as saying:
“First thing, I was in a lot of pain and I was laying there kind of shocked and I didn’t know what to think,” Abbott said. “I was waiting for the music to stop. The audience was screaming, and I was, like, ‘Forget it all, I am going to finish this program.’
“As much of a disappointment as this is, I am not in the least bit ashamed. I stood up and finished this program, and I am proud of what I did in the circumstances.”
Abbott scored a 72.58, good for fifteenth place out of thirty, but what he achieved goes far beyond any scorecard.
No.
What Abbott achieved was the ultimate triumph of dedication, focus, and persistence. He refused to let a terrible fall — one that could still, potentially, knock him out of the competition — stop him from completing his short program. And in so doing, he won the respect of his competitors and the Russian crowd’s vociferous support, which wasn’t altogether easy as their lone entrant into the men’s program, Evgeny Plushenko, had abruptly retired directly before he was supposed to skate in the short.
I don’t doubt that Plushenko was injured — he clutched his back and looked like he could barely stand upright when he skated over to the judges in order to withdraw — and I also don’t doubt that Plushenko did the right thing in withdrawing, no matter how abrupt it turned out to be.
But what Abbott did in getting up from one of the worst falls I’ve ever seen and skating the rest of his program with vigor, energy, and even brilliance was as inspirational an effort as I’ve ever seen.
As Rogers put it in his headline, “Jeremy Abbott Loses Marks for Ugly Fall, Wins Hearts for Finishing Short Program.”
As I’ve been critical over the years of Abbott — much though I adore his skating — I felt it imperative to point this out: Jeremy Abbott has the heart of a true champion.
Whether he can skate the long program after a night of stiffening up and soreness, and possibly some bone breaks as well (as a hairline fracture can be hard to spot, especially right after an injury due to the inflammation incurred) is immaterial.
What Abbott did today in refusing to give up on himself is far, far more important than any marks could ever be. In or out of the Olympics.
You see, Jeremy Abbott proved today why he’s as big a winner at life as anyone I’ve ever seen.
And that, my friends, is extremely impressive.
Just Reviewed Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s “Kindred Rites” at SBR
Folks, if you’re looking for an excellent young adult dark fantasy to read — one steeped in authenticity, that’s set in the 19th Century and is part of a subset of alternate histories now being called “frontier fiction” — you owe it to yourself to check out Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s KINDRED RITES, which I reviewed tonight over at Shiny Book Review (SBR for short, as always).
Note that I enjoyed this book so much, I’ve reviewed it before the e-book edition is officially out. I found it to be one of the best, life-affirming fantasy novels I’ve ever read. Alfreda “Allie” Sorensson is the best type of heroine — she depends on her wits as much as her magic, she’s caring and compassionate yet is also no-nonsense in her approach to life — and kids of all ages should love this novel.
KINDRED RITES is an excellent book to read on a cold, winter’s night . . . or any night. So go discover this impressive book for yourself just as soon as the e-book edition is available for sale, OK?
Best of all, I’ve been reliably informed by Ms. Kimbriel that book three in Allie’s series (now being called the “Night Calls” series after the first book of Allie’s tale, NIGHT CALLS) is underway.
I can’t wait.
Just Reviewed “Brave Genius” at SBR
Folks, I’ve rarely read such an entertaining, interesting, thought-provoking piece of nonfiction as Sean B. Carroll’s BRAVE GENIUS: A Scientist, a Philosopher, and Their Daring Adventures from the French Resistance to the Nobel Prize, which is why I reviewed it this evening over at Shiny Book Review (SBR for short, as always). Carroll’s conception is this — if not for the French Resistance, would we even know about Albert Camus or Jacques Monod? Would they be the same men? Would they have the same drive? And without them, would the Resistance have been anywhere near as effective?
Everything else in BRAVE GENIUS, including Camus’ sterling accomplishments as a writer and philosopher and Monod’s work with enzymes (and Monod’s later accomplishment as the writer of perhaps the most unlikely bestseller in the history of mankind, CHANCE AND NECESSITY), is subordinate to this premise. And Carroll makes a very good case as to why this was so, to the point that I compared his case a few times to Malcolm Gladwell’s OUTLIERS.
Here we have two men who were at the beginning of their careers in 1940 when the French government fell to the Nazis. (Carroll calls this “leading ordinary lives,” but I don’t really think any life is ordinary. I’d rather say that they were still important, driven men who hadn’t yet found their voices.) They were forged in the fire of the French Resistance, and without their efforts — Monod as “Malivert,” one of the top fund-raisers and activists in all of the French Resistance, and Camus as the then-unknown editor of the influential underground newspaper Combat — would everything have taken the same course at the end of World War II?
The World War II historicity here is palpable. The suspense is still there, sixty-plus years after all of Monod’s and Camus’s efforts. And it’s by far the standout part of the book, which it needs to be as this is Carroll’s central premise.
Overall, I think BRAVE GENIUS is one of the most interesting, most compelling pieces of nonfiction I’ve read all year. It’s not 100% perfect (which is why I gave it an A rather than an A-plus), but it’s riveting, especially in those World War II sections. Literally, if you open this book up and start reading, you won’t want to stop, even though some of Camus’s ideas (not to mention Monod’s research) takes more than a bit of thought to plow through.
That said, I think you definitely should continue on with BRAVE GENIUS no matter how long it takes you to finish it, precisely because those ideas are so important.
Really, if you’ve ever cared why existentialism as a philosophy matters (even though there’s evidence Camus hated the term and probably would’ve come up with another one, given time), or wondered what the French Resistance actually did during the Vichy appeasement besides the simple term “resist,” this book is for you. And if you want to know why Monod’s research was so important, or more about Monod’s book CHANCE AND NECESSITY (not an easy read to get through, but a book with more compelling ideas per capita than most), or simply want to know more about what these two important, influential men were like as people, this book is for you.
I couldn’t recommend this book more highly, in short . . . so go grab a copy of BRAVE GENIUS (from your local library, if nothing else) and start reading as soon as you can. Then come back here and let me know what you thought.
Just Reviewed Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s “Night Calls” at SBR
Folks, today’s review of Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s NIGHT CALLS is up over at Shiny Book Review (SBR for short) and it’s something special.
You might be wondering why that is. Well, today is the ninth anniversary of my beloved husband Michael’s death. It’s not easy for me to do much of anything on days like this, so if I feel strong enough and competent enough and capable enough to review a book, right there — in and of itself — you should realize I feel very strongly about it.
But more to the point, NIGHT CALLS is a heartwarming book that should delight all lovers of fantasy. It features a strong, capable young woman in Alfreda Sorensson who’s no one’s plaything; unlike the meek and mild female characters in Stephanie Meyer’s conception, Alfreda does for herself, thank you. And in taking on responsibility slowly, we can see how Alfreda grows and changes and learns . . . all good, all life-affirming, all an excellent message if you need one, but done in such a way that it’s subordinate to the story itself.
To write a novel that’s more than the sum of its parts is very difficult. Now, I’ve reviewed four of Katharine Eliska Kimbriel’s novels, and all four have been able to do this to one degree or another, in two different genres, no less — an outstanding record that I’ve rarely seen out of anyone not named Rosemary Edghill. And best of all, to my mind, is this — NIGHT CALLS is a comfort book in that there’s so much good in it, so much meaning in it, that it’s something that I can see myself turning back to read and re-read many times over the years — just as I’ve done with Rosemary’s TWO OF A KIND and MET BY MOONLIGHT and all her shared work with Mercedes Lackey, not to mention Rosemary’s excellent “Hellflower” series (written as eluki bes shahar) and her three novels in the “Twelve Treasures” series.
That’s the highest praise I can possibly give.
Now, why would I want to write all this on one of the most difficult days of the year? Well, it’s simple. Michael and I both loved to read young adult novels. We found them to be interesting, in the main, because seeing a coming of age story done well is, in and of itself, life-affirming. If you can do it with some humor and heart — as Patricia C. Wrede did in CALLING ON DRAGONS, say, or as Diana Wynne Jones did in her “Chrestomanci series” — so much the better.
And trust me, Ms. Kimbriel did exactly that in NIGHT CALLS.
It was reading books like Ms. Kimbriel’s that inspired me to start writing ELFY in the first place. Which is why I’m very glad to be able to read and review her work, even though until this last year I hadn’t a clue it was available. The good part about that is that I’ve read four of her excellent books this year, and all four of them — the three in her “Chronicles of Nuala” series and NIGHT CALLS — are likely to be on my “best books of 2013” list.
This makes me wonder how many other excellent writers are out there that I don’t yet know about. (“More writers left to explore?” I say. “Whee!”)
And it also gives me some hope that my own writing career is not yet dead, even though my health this year has been terrible and I’ve been slow off the mark to get things done despite all the good will in the world due to that.
Anyway, that’s why I reviewed Ms. Kimbriel’s excellent NIGHT CALLS today. For hope. For inspiration. For the belief that despite bad things happening, good people can still win out.
And I think that if you give Ms. Kimbriel’s work a try, you, too, will be favorably impressed.
Barb Caffrey's Blog 