A Writer’s Meditation: Can People Change?
This is one of my more experimental blog posts. I hope you find it useful.
People change in stories. I love that about writing.
In fact, if there is no change at all in a story, there is no story. So you’d better have change, you’d better account for the change, and you’d better understand just what change is going to do if you’re writing a story.
But in real life, it’s a lot murkier.
For years on end, it seems like people don’t change at all. For good or bad, their situations stay the same. (Though the way you approach your situation can indeed change, as if you’re changing the lens on a camera to get sharper emphasis, the actual mess you’re in stays the same day after day, year after year.) And it makes it harder to explain their stories, because a steady state does not — in general — tell a compelling story.
Now, someone else telling you the story of your life as they see it may indeed be compelling. That’s because they hit the high points. They usually skip the low points, or maybe make those low points into something that turned into grist for the mill and self-improvement galore. (And as I’ve said before, it’s all grist for the mill.)
But how you see yourself? How you see the folks around you that you’re closest to? How you see the situations you tend to be in, and what you do about them, and what happens after you’ve done (or not done) those things?
In general, we tend to see sameness in ourselves. Because we want to recognize who we are, cradle to grave; we want to know exactly why we’re doing what we are, even when sometimes that’s impossible; we don’t want to live lives without meaning and resonance and value.
That’s sensible, too. It’s a good evolutionary strategy.
But it messes with the thought of change. Because we all do change in our lives. We learn things. We improve, or sometimes don’t; we take the experiences we’ve had, and use them as a way to give the framework of our lives more meaning, more value, and more understanding.
Or at least, we should do this if we’re smart.
But it’s hard. So hard, it’s much easier to explain when someone else has changed, rather than recognizing it in and of your own self.
And recognizing you need new and different experiences for self-growth and actualization is even harder, sometimes, because it feels like a betrayal of the self and a loss of the framework of the person you thought you knew.
Ultimately, I think change is going to happen. But it depends on how much you “lean in” to it versus opposing it at every turn. And it’s conditional upon understanding that you, yourself, are still a work-in-progress…
My view, in summation, is that people do change. But they don’t always recognize it. And when they do recognize it, sometimes, they don’t like it very much.
The good thing about that? When you realize you don’t like something, you can change it to better fit yourself, your values, and your goals. Or at least you can change the way you look at it, in order to find more peace with what you’re dealing with and less stress.
Book Recommendations, Plus My Review of Jason Cordova’s “A Christmas Surprise”
Folks, I’ve wanted to write a blog for weeks now about several books I’ve enjoyed, either reading or editing. But as I read a book last night I truly wasn’t expecting whatsoever — Jason Cordova’s A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE, I want to lead with that review first. (I’ll cut and paste from my Amazon review, as I never know exactly when that will go up. Or even if.)
Here goes:
I didn’t know Jason Cordova had something like A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE in him. Lately he’s been writing dark, depressing, and despairing military SF, where most of the characters die and the few who remain never seem to remark on what’s gone missing.
Thank goodness he took a detour and wrote a smart, sweet, and timely Christmas story for a change instead.
Bluntly, I loved A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE. It was a fast read, and probably is intended for kids aged about eight and up; it’s also a clean read, with no profanity whatsoever. (Another surprise, as sometimes in Cordova’s work I can count how many people are going to die by the amount of f-bombs used in process.) It has a great message for Christmas, too: we have to work together with people who don’t look like us, and maybe people (or in this case, a baby kaiju, one of the most adorable kaiju I’ve ever seen in print — another thing that looks like a misnomer, but isn’t) will surprise you if you give them a chance.
I was also pleasantly surprised with the resonance here — how the story sounds, in addition to how well it reads — as it has a style that was reminiscent, at least to me, of C.S. Lewis’s work in the Narnia series. (While Cordova doesn’t bring in a brand new mythology, he does talk briefly of all the different ways Christmas is celebrated around the world, and a Hawai’ian moon goddess is a significant player.)
Overall, this is a can’t-miss Christmas SFnal tale of hope, faith, optimism, and the true meaning of Christmas (giving, rather than receiving, in addition to gifts not being what you may want, but instead what you need). And I loved the little baby kaiju, Georgie, something fierce.
Five stars-plus, with the highest recommendation possible.
And please, write more in this vein, Jason. You have a gift for it.
Barb Caffrey
OK, now that I’ve gotten your attention, here are a few more books I want you to check out.
First, take a look at Ken Lizzi’s KARL THORSON AND THE JADE DAGGER. I edited this book, and I know it’s wonderful. Karl is a military vet and a type of “muscle-for-hire” at the site of an important archaeological excavation, and many things happen to Karl that he never could’ve expected. There is true magic here, as well as the ever-present fight between good and evil; there is a good deal of character-based humor; there are many, many excellently rendered fight scenes; there’s a swift-moving story; there’s a wonderfully compelling and spare, yet still luxuriant, writing style.
And — best of all — it’s only ninety-nine cents as an e-book. (How sweet is that?)
Next, take a gander at Loren K. Jones’s latest, THE LEGEND OF MARY DEATH. I also edited this book, and I know it’s a terrific read. Loren’s main character, Marydyth “Mary Death” Zel’Karyn, is a renowned swordswoman. She’s also a trailblazer, a Captain of Cavalry, then a Knight of Justice…eventually also a wife, mother, and teacher. If you’ve read any of Loren’s previous work, most especially the books in the Stavin Kel’Aniston series, you may recognize Mary a bit. (But only a bit, because in those books, she was legend. They knew she’d lived, and existed, but what she found important in her life and what the legends found important may not have been one and the same.)
What I found the most fun about this book was how Mary, herself, hated her nickname of “Mary Death.” She never wanted to be “Mary Death,” and the only reason the nickname took off was because one of her officers burped in the middle of her name during a bit of drunken revelry after a decisive battle. (Hee hee!)
But there’s so much here for people to like, if they just pick up the book. It’s not selling as well as Loren’s previous books, perhaps because people are out Xmas shopping and it may not seem as timely as some books. But if you enjoy fun, fast adventure with a bit of romance along with the power of trailblazing women, you’ll enjoy THE LEGEND OF MARY DEATH.
Finally, there are two books of Chris Nuttall’s I want to point out. (No, he doesn’t need the help, but I enjoyed the books so I may as well mention them. Humph.) The first of these is his latest in the Schooled in Magic series, MIRROR IMAGE. His heroine, Emily, is trying to get a magical university off the ground in the Nameless World (the world she was transported to, way back in book 1, by a necromancer she later killed). And it’s not going well…plus she has to deal with tensions both mundane and magical, as well as an alternate-universe versions of several people…perhaps including Emily herself.
Mind, as this is book eighteen in the SIM series, it’s probably not the best place to start it. But I do think you would understand most of it if you haven’t read any…still, the first few books in the series are on sale for ninety-nine cents, so if you haven’t read any of this compelling magical series yet, you should.
And as I am one of two editors for this series (and yes, we both work on every single book in the series, one way or another), I know how wonderful they are. (So do get to getting, will you?)
And the second of Chris’s books — the last of my recommendations for this Saturday before Xmas — is the sixth book in his Learning Experience series, THEIR LAST FULL MEASURE. This is military SF at its most deadly, with an alien race in the Tokomak that wants to wipe all humans off the map as they feel threatened. Chris’s twist is that the Tokomak could’ve once been humanity’s ally, if only the Tokomak hadn’t looked inward and stagnated. (And then started to hate everyone who was able to continue to adapt, of course.)
Of course, that’s not stated full-out, but it’s there. (I know this, again, ’cause I edited it.)
Not to mention, there are space battles galore, some expeditions behind enemy lines, some new and dangerous tech, a bit of romance between long-term couples…you name it, THEIR LAST FULL MEASURE probably has it.
So, there you have it! Some book recommendations you probably weren’t expecting, and one I definitely, myself, wasn’t expecting…but that’s the fun of the Christmas season, isn’t it?
Enjoy!
——
P.S. You may have noticed I didn’t have any cover photos. I’m sorry about that. But if the authors in question will get them to me, I will be happy to incorporate them into this post at a later date. (You have been warned.)
Holiday Musings on a Prescient Bob Costas Quote
“I am a firm believer in this: one of the measures of a person is how do they treat someone they have no reason to believe can do them any good.” — Bob Costas, legendary sportscaster, quoted in MADDEN: A Biography, p. 189-90**
Bob Costas is right.
How you treat people is what matters. Whether they can help you in the moment or not, how you act when the world’s supposedly not watching is what defines your character.
But not everyone believes this.
Why? Well, there there are so many people in this life that can’t seemingly do us any good. From your local grocery cashier, to the clerk at the gas station, to the folks who answer telephones for your local Congresscritters, these are folks that some people seem to believe are disposable.
Obviously, I am not among them.
What you do for a living is not what matters. Who you are — that is what matters.
Your character, your soul, your willingness to understand others even if they seem very different from yourself…this is what separates good people from bad, in my opinion.
But in case you disagree, I want you to consider the following:
We are all human beings, fallible and mortal. We all have hopes, dreams, fears, and struggles. You name it, we all have it. And we are all worthy of care, consideration and respect.
I’d believe this even if I hadn’t been, often, in the situation where I was the one who seemingly “couldn’t do any good” for someone.
Please do your best, especially at this critical time of the year with the holidays fast approaching, to remember the Golden Rule. “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.”
That may help you recall that there are no disposable people.
We all matter, each and every one. We should be treated respectfully, with care, with consideration, and with as much compassion as possible.
Remember Bob Costas’ quote.
It is important. And so are you.
——–
**This quote stuck with me, even after I finished reading MADDEN: A Biography. It’s an older thought, but it’s well-encapsulated by Bob Costas here…and I realized, at the time, that I needed to come talk about this further.
To The Grieving…Some Thoughts
Folks, I have written about this subject before, most notably here, here, and here. And I’ve also pointed out the many difficult problems when it comes to grief in a few essays, most notably this one on Lois McMaster Bujold’s GENTLEMAN JOLE AND THE RED QUEEN and this one on Debbie Macomber’s HANNAH’S LIST. But I have even more thoughts on the subject of grief, so…here we go again.
Grief is incredibly hard to deal with. I know I’m not telling you anything new. But it’s because I want to give some sort of comfort that I’m writing again about grief, loss, and the frustrations at expressing all of it in words, in the hopes that someone out there will understand that he or she is not alone.
I have a number of friends who are grieving. Some are recent widows and widowers. Some have been widows and widowers for quite some time. But all are hurting, because their spouses and the loves of their lives are not here on this Earth anymore. Yet they are left behind, powerless to do anything except remember what was, and what never will be again. And none of them, not one, knows what to do except putting one foot in front of the other, because it hurts so badly to go on when you’ve sustained such a deep loss.
I don’t believe in platitudes or weasel-words. So I refuse to say that eventually it’ll get easier to handle the loss of your spouse to anyone. Especially as I haven’t found it to be such at all.
But I can give at least a little comfort to those of you who are suffering, because I’ve been through it. (Sometimes, still going through it. One slow step at a time.) I do understand where you are, why you hurt so badly, and why you’re angry that you’re in this place at all.
Death comes for us all, yes. But sometimes it comes so early, it’s impossible to process. As advice columnist Carolyn Hax of the Washington Post put it recently, “Here we were, thinking we were X. And now the universe says, ‘nope, now you’re going to be Y.'” (My elaboration on that theme is, “And too bad that you enjoyed being X, ’cause you’re not going to get to be X again.” So no wonder why we hate it, no? But I digress.)
What I have found is that over time, I can handle the pain a little better.
But I’m not going to lie. I still hate it. The man who understood me, loved me, and appreciated me the most in all the worlds and time is on the Other Side, and I am still here. I defy anyone to tell me why this is a good thing.
Yet I have also figured out — slowly, painfully, and painstakingly — that as long as I live, at least a part of my husband lives on in me. (In the “two shall become one” sense, if nothing else.) And that gives me great comfort.
But I want to say one more thing to those of you grieving right now. (Ready?)
Your life matters. Not just because you were the spouse of someone wonderful who’s passed on to eternity. But because you, yourself, are an incredible person with much to offer the world. And unique gifts of your own that your spouse, were they here to tell you, would want you to continue using to the best of your ability.
I know it doesn’t feel like that now. It can’t. You are hurting, you wonder what in the Hell the point is, and you wonder why on Earth you’re still here when your spouse isn’t.
But it’s still the truth.
You matter. And as long as you live, you can still affect the outcome at least a little bit, while keeping the memory of your beloved spouse alive.
So walk on, with your memories and your love intact. And never listen to the fools and idiots out there who may say “get over it” and “move on,” as those are both impossible and irrelevant to the grieving process.
Just Trying to Get By…
As the blog title says, the mood around Chez Caffrey tonight is exactly that: trying to get by.
I can’t ignore the stresses in the world. They bother me. And I can do so little about them.
For example, I hate it that the people in Hong Kong, who are protesting for democracy, are not being backed up by the United States in word or deed. (I don’t want the U.S. to go to war with China. But this is a situation where diplomacy might’ve done some good. Yet the Congress, as well as the President, remains for the most part eerily silent.)
I also am unhappy by much of what I’ve seen and heard regarding the impeachment inquiry in the U.S. Congress. Everything I’ve read (and I have read the entire 300-page report put out by the Congress yesterday) shows that President Trump seems to believe that Presidents are like Kings, and can do whatever they like. I can’t abide that. And I don’t understand why others can.
Mind, I believe in the rule of law. If the Senate, which probably will get the impeachment from the House sooner or later (the House hasn’t taken a vote yet), refuses to carefully ponder the evidence, I will be extremely unhappy. And if they do what Senator Lindsay Graham (R-SC) has already said he will and refuse to even read the evidence, that will make me furious.
These people are not being paid to duck the evidence. They are being paid to do what is in the best interests of the country.
Not their party. The country.
Anyway, I mention all of this because it does weigh on my mind. And I can do so little about it.
What I can do, mind, is write about it. (Which you see, for what good it does.) I can register people to vote when my health is strong enough. I can also weigh the evidence, when it fully comes out, in my own mind, with my own knowledge of the U.S. Constitution, and decide for myself what I’d do if I were in the Senate.
(Hint, hint: I do not believe in party over country. I believe in what John McCain did. Country over party. Or as John Quincy Adams said, “Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone.”)
Mind, if the evidence ultimately isn’t there, then it’s not. (Though it’s hard to believe right now there won’t be enough evidence to show that. And if you doubt me, go read that report and put “Obama” in there instead of Trump. Would you think this behavior is OK then? But I digress.)
The evidence should be heard, should be weighed, should be measured…and if the folks in the Senate who are apparently blinded by Donald Trump’s cult of personality can’t figure out that what the current president has done will be used as a measuring stick for all presidents to follow, then they are idiots. (And should be voted out of office forthwith.)
Anyway, I see all this, and wonder what in the Hell the point is. There’s so little I can affect. And it bothers me.
But all I can do, from day to day, is be my best self.
(And so should you, even though it may seem completely pointless to try.)
So, I’ll keep on trying to get by. And as I do that, I’ll continue to work on my writing, my editing, my music, and whatever other abilities I have that can do some people some good somewhere…as that’s all I know how to do.
——
P.S. We still do live in a free society. I am grateful for this. I am able to say what I feel, in a way I feel is right, and not be hauled off to jail for doing so.
May it continue ever so.
In Remembrance of Trouble
Folks, years ago I wrote a blog called “Losing the Family Pet,” about my Mom’s Cocker spaniel, Blackie. That was hard.
This is even harder.
My favorite dog in the whole wide world, Trouble, died a few nights ago. He died at home, similar to the way Blackie died; the only difference was, Trouble went to sleep and just didn’t wake up. (The eyes did open at the end, though. Bigger than they had in weeks. I know this because I had to carry him out again. But more on that anon.)
Mom and I adopted Trouble in 2006 from the Humane Society. He was a Shih Tzu mix with black and white coloring. He looked Shih Tzu in the face, had the big brown puppy dog eyes they’re known for, but his back legs were much shorter than the front. He was smart, loyal, kind-hearted, loved his food, loved to play, loved to “romp” with his “girlfriend” (a pillow; Trouble had been neutered, as standard in Wisconsin, but his mind still felt he was potent, and that was that), and was the best dog I’d ever been around.
Yes, he was a typical dog. He loved walks. He occasionally escaped the back yard before Mom moved to an apartment, and that always worried me. But he came back — once with the help of a neighbor, as we had a major snowstorm that day and we were almost completely snowed in. And he’d look at me, and my mother, with puzzlement: “Hey, I always come back. So what’s the big deal?”
Mind, he never did escape again after that blizzard incident. He had learned his lesson. When the neighborhood kids unlocked the gate (as they weren’t supposed to do, but often did), Mom’s other dog Brat would escape. But not Trouble.
Nope. He stayed right in the backyard, and when I’d go check and find him, he’d give me a look that said, “Hey, I’m a good boy!”
And he was.
Trouble had the softest fur. But we kept it short, because it was easier for everyone. And I do mean everyone, because when Trouble was younger, he loved to play in the mud. We’d have to give him baths — sometimes more than one a day — to get him clean. And of course he hated the baths, but Mom and I hated the muddy feet and the muddy everything more than that, so into the bath he went.
When we adopted Trouble, they said they thought he was two. Our now-retired vet told us that Trouble could’ve been anywhere between a year to three years. So we went with two. And we adopted him at the very beginning of 2006, to the best of my knowledge…meaning he nearly made it to sixteen.
Of course, we got used to saying he was sixteen at least six months ago. As we honestly didn’t know, it was as good as age as any. And by then, Trouble had really slowed down. Like Blackie before him, Trouble lost his hearing first. Then, unlike Blackie, Trouble lost his vision. He also had severe osteoarthritis, made worse by the aforementioned short back legs; his back was spiny, toward the end.
But he never complained. Never whined. Never moaned. Never did anything, except come up to be petted. Or at least to sit by our feet (or in my case, on my feet, as he seemed to like that for some reason!), so we’d know he cared.
Trouble ate well up until a day before he died. He continued to drink water. He was able to eliminate, though it was harder for him some days than others. He slept a lot the last six months. And he’d gotten to the point that when I took him out for a walk, he’d do his business, then sit right down.
Mind, he still loved to sniff things. (He was a dog. That’s what they do.)
He also enjoyed being around “his people,” and loved us with every breath in his big-hearted body.
I once asked Trouble on a Valentine’s Day, “Hey, Trouble, will you be my boyfriend?”
He didn’t know what I was saying. I’m sure of that. But he perked up, and he must’ve heard something in my voice, because he came right over to me and put his head on my lap. (This is when he could still partially get up on my lap on his own. He’d stand on his back legs and put the forelegs and head on my lap; I’d pull him up from there.) And he stayed by my side that night, and many other nights; he knew when I didn’t feel well, and he knew when I was lonely, and he knew when I needed his attention.
Then, he’d play tug-of-war with me. Or he’d let me pet him. Or I’d give him a treat. Or he’d just look at me with his big brown eyes and say wordlessly, “I know how you feel. It’s OK. I’m here.”
Trouble was my favorite dog. And it’s been hard to write this, because I picture him in so many ways. It’s hard to remember how much he loved life, in a way, because I’m the one who had to carry him out again and take him to the crematory. (This time, Mom was not up to it. And who can blame her?)
But he did love life. He was a wonderful canine companion. He adored us.
And we adored him.
I will miss Trouble terribly. And already am.
Book Review: “The Night of Blind Ambition”
As I said in my previous review, I never know how long Amazon will take to put up a new book review. And it’s too important these reviews don’t get lost. I don’t want Mr. Wardlaw to suffer the same fate I have, of being way too little-known, putting out books that are damned good but no one reads.
So I’ve done my best here to let people know Mr. Wardlaw’s books exist. And I do hope that’ll make some sense.
Now, onto my review of Mr. Wardlaw’s second book, THE NIGHT OF BLIND AMBITION, cut and pasted from my Amazon review:
As I said in my review of A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER, it astonishes me to find a work of such superior quality as THE NIGHT OF BLIND AMBITION, Malcolm J. Wardlaw’s second book in his “Sovreigns of the Collapse” series.
Indeed, this is the story of Lawrence, the younger brother of Donald’s (from the first book in the series). Lawrence is a former military officer who did unspeakable things, but that’s not what got him exiled to the “Night and Fog” (slave labor camps, roughly). Nope, ’cause in Wardlaw’s dystopia, unspeakable things are just part of the game for competent military officers. Instead, what got Lawrence exiled was noticing a scheme of graft and corruption, wanting no part of it, reporting it…and instead being tagged with the crime himself and exiled, because the higher-ups in Lawrence’s chain of command didn’t want to deal with Lawrence’s allegations (probably profiting from the graft themselves).
Worse even than the Night and Fog is when Lawrence is sent to something called “The Value System.” This is an all-male penal colony that does things so disgusting, I hesitate to say. (Let’s put it this way: the man who came up with this system, Prentice Nightminster, is a piece of work and a half.) They are forced to labor for long hours, almost as if they lived in a Siberian gulag. But now and again they get days off, can listen to music, think about their plight, and remember their real names and their real lives.
Most of them get dead drunk during these times. And who can blame them?
Anyway, Lawrence is made of stern stuff. He was indeed competent, as a military officer, and he learned how to survive, strike, and evade. He has a gift of knowing when, exactly, to fight, but also when, exactly, to bide his time.
And when Prentice Nightminster, also known as The Captain (and yes, that’s how Nightminster wants it styled), gives Lawrence an opportunity to get out of the Value System penal colony, Lawrence realizes it’s a poisoned chalice and escapes. (The friend he escapes with was a very learned man, high up in one of the enclaves of high society before his fall. That this learned man helped Lawrence realize this is important; that Lawrence again seizes the gift of knowing when to escape, on a night of raucous merriment for the slaves at the penal colony, is highlighted.)
It’s hard to know when to stop giving a plot summary, especially when much of this book concerns Lawrence’s escape. (We know he does escape from the first book, mind you, so me telling you that is not exactly a spoiler.) So I will stop there, except to say that Lawrence’s exploits are harrowing. And his realizations of who he used to be, coupled with who he now is, are well worth the price of admission.
Honestly, you need to read this book, as well as A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER. This is a very thorough society Mr. Wardlaw is depicting (that is, when he’s not skewering it to a fare-thee-well), and the full immersion within it is total.
All I knew was, after I finished A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER, I had to read this book, THE NIGHT OF BLIND AMBITION. And I’m glad I read both.
Five stars, highly recommended to all SF fans, but most particularly those who enjoy military SF and escape stories.
Barb Caffrey
P.S. Write faster, Mr. Wardlaw! I can’t wait to see what happens to Donald, Lawrence, and Sarah-Kelly next.
Book Review: “A Bloody Arrogant Power”
This is cut and pasted from my recent book review at Amazon. I don’t know how long it’ll take them to get this book review up, and a few times I’ve had it completely go astray in their system.
That would be a shame, in this case. Which is why I’m going ahead and posting it here, at my private blog, in the hopes it will not get swallowed up.
Short version of the following: You need to read A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER by Malcolm J. Wardlaw. It’s just ninety-nine cents as an e-book. And it’s a worthy read, one that’s hard to put down…and even harder to understand, once it’s over, how a book this good has been thus far overlooked.
Then again, as my own history as a writer has shown, sometimes good work does not get noticed (immediately, anyway; I refuse to believe otherwise). One can hope Mr. Wardlaw’s conception will escape the fate of my own two books in the Elfyverse.
Now, here’s to the cut-and-paste:
I had never heard of Malcolm J. Wardlaw before picking up his book, A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER. As an author myself (and as a little-known one at that), I am sympathetic to other authors struggling to break through the noise of independent publishing to get their vision out.
And what a vision: A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER is astonishingly thorough, and shows what the world could be a century or so hence after the current society collapses. Wardlaw’s dystopian vision is completely realized, down to the lexicon (“drains” are roads, or at least public thoroughfares, which “surplus” — people who don’t make enough money to protect themselves from being turfed out on a moment’s notice — are “discharged”); the people all feel real, with some being quite venal, some being quite opportunistic, some being idealists, some being realists…and the worst of all blending those four things into something abhorrent. (Prentice Nightminster, I’m looking squarely at you.)
A book as good as this should not be languishing in obscurity.
In fact, I read this book in three hours. And I came over here, to Amazon, to make absolutely sure it finally got someone rating it and commenting on it, all the while wondering what in the Hell has caused people to overlook A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER in the first place.
Honestly, if you enjoy SF, dystopian SF, future visions of a harrowing nature, or just plain good writing, you need to read this. Donald, the protagonist, is well-realized, and goes from company man to revolutionary without missing a beat. (Trust me: If you had an ounce of sense if you lived in this world, you’d do the same thing.) His love-interest, Sarah-Kelly, is also well-realized; she’s a smart, educated woman with a vision of a better society, and refuses to live in the world she finds herself in. (Good for her, I say.) And finally, Donald’s younger brother Lawrence, an ex-military officer with a conscience, emerges just at the end to give a glimpse of what the next book in the series is likely to be…he’s brash, but well-intentioned, and he’s lived through some harrowing stuff.
Very solid work, all the way around.
In fact, if this book had been picked up by a major publisher, I think it would’ve won several awards. It is that well-realized, that well-considered, and that thoroughly satisfying of a read.
I do not say these things lightly.
In short, if I could give this book more than five stars, I would. But since I can’t, this book is given five-stars and a highly recommended tag.
I hope more people read this book. And I hope Mr. Wardlaw finds his audience, because he — and his book, A BLOODY ARROGANT POWER — deserves it.
Barb Caffrey
A Brief Bloglet
Last week I finished up another edit, and had intended to come back here and write another blog. But the best laid plans sometimes do not come to fruition, and thus, the blog is now.
I’m dealing with an unusual situation here, health-wise. I don’t really understand fibromyalgia at all. It does seem to have elements of chronic fatigue to it, which means I’ll have to come up with strategies, and fast, to continue my life on my terms.
In addition, I’ve dealt with an unpleasant infection/abscess. (Or infected abscess? Is that a contradiction in terms?)
More difficulty, less energy. That’s where I’ve been at.
Now, am I completely unable to do anything? No. But I did just spend two days down at home, doing nothing other than sleeping. (Trust me, that is the most boring thing in the world to do. But some days, that’s all that’s possible.)
I have hopes that the rest of the week will be better. I have an appointment with a new doc later today, and we’ll see if he has any ideas. And I’ll talk with my friends, and my family, and see if there’s anything I can do to make things any better.
I get tired of the feeling that all I can do today is “not collapse.” I want more out of my life than that.
But for now, as I continue to struggle, that’s where I am.
Let’s hope I’ll be able to write soon. (I can still edit, thank God/dess.)
Political Thoughts on a Friday Afternoon
The national mood (much less mine) has seemed apocalyptic. The politics get more polarized; the POTUS bloviates and prevaricates, then deserts long-term allies in a shameful move; the politics get even more polarized, where some people for some reason still think this POTUS walks on water (and most of the rest realize not only that he doesn’t, but none of us do).
The mood in my state of Wisconsin isn’t that great, either. It’s fall, and it’s chilly. Our state politics have been polarized a long time, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. But worse yet is the feeling that very few elected officials are looking out for us at any level…and that this isn’t going to change unless we vote as many of the current crop of politicians out as possible.
(Except for those few who do seem to have a shred of public service somewhere deep inside, that is. They can stay.)
I can’t help but see these things, and be appalled. I care that we get the best representation possible at all levels, from honorable people doing their best to figure out how to run things the very best way they can. Not for greed or graft. Not for personal gain in any way. But because it’s the right thing to do.
Maybe I’m still an idealist at heart. Perhaps I am.
But we should be doing better than this. We deserve to have open, rational dialogues about the tough issues facing our world, much less this country and this state. We need to know the hard facts. (Not alternative facts, whatever the Hell they are.) We need to understand that traditional conservative values about saving money and paying down the national (and state) debt and not spending money on frivolous things like gold-plated faucets in executive washrooms are good things. And we also need to understand that traditional, small-l liberal values of freedom, justice, and the dignity of human worth are also good things.
We’ve become so polarized in the US that it’s possible to say one thing, and depending on what political party one belongs to, people hear it two ways.
That’s just wrong.
We are all human beings. We all deserve the chance to figure ourselves out. And we deserve the chance to live in a peaceful world, one where we don’t desert our long-term allies at the drop of a hint or the whim of an erratic and unskilled POTUS.
Our Congress, and our state government, on down to city and local governments, needs to start working for us. Rather than above us, besides us, or in spite of us.
I don’t know if we can get there anytime soon. But we have to start trying.
Otherwise, we’ll continue to get the neglectful, wasteful, and spiteful government we have now. And that is completely nonsensical.
Barb Caffrey's Blog 