LitReactor

Title:

We Are All Completely Fine

Who wrote it?

Daryl Gregory, author of Pandemonium, The Devil's Alphabet, Afterparty and numerous short stories. 

Plot in a Box:

A group of traumatized people assemble for an unconventional support group and uncover a dark secret that ties them all together. 

Invent a new title for this book:

 Monster Victim Support Group

Read this if you like:

Lovecraftian fiction, Nightmare on Elm Street 3, Community*

Meet the book’s lead:

Arguably Harrison is the lead, a former child “monster hunter” and now an adult lured into a support group with victims of horrific crimes. 

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

Ryan Gosling because, well, Ryan Gosling. Or if he’s not available maybe Joseph Gordon-Levitt. 

Setting: Would you want to live there?

It’s our world, but with a secret, hidden world of horror just beneath the surface so, no, I wouldn’t want to live there. Unless I already do and don’t know it…

What was your favorite sentence?

"A person who creates scrimshaw is called a scrimshander,” Barbara said. “But the Scrimshander…he doesn’t work on whale bones."

The Verdict:

We Are All Completely Fine is something refreshing and unique — a short horror novel that is as much about relationships and people learning from one another as it is about the horrors that they are ultimately facing. Like a real support group, revelations are made and secrets are illuminated (sometimes quite literally) through the interactions of the characters. The support group structure, its goals and philosophies become part of the story itself. As far as the horror goes, the story is more creepy than scary. There are supernatural elements here but the really disturbing stuff is mostly psychological. 

Above all, however, Gregory excels with the characters. The story, the mystery which is slowly unpeeled, is engaging and involving, but it’s the characters that truly shine. I found myself wanting to read more about them and their adventures. Harrison’s history, for example, is only mentioned, referenced briefly, and yet it’s so rich that I wanted to read about it in its entirety. I also wanted to follow the courses of the characters after the story ended. That, most of all, is a triumph. 

Even if you’re not much of a horror fan, even if Lovecraft isn’t your jam, We Are All Completely Fine is worth your attention. Just pull up a chair, sit in on the support group. You’ll be drawn in in no time. 

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Rajan Khanna

Title:

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage 

Who Wrote It?

Haruki Murakami. You might've heard of him. He's won a lot of awards n' stuff.

Plot in a Box:

Sixteen years after being abruptly cut off by his closest friends, the titular character sets out on a journey to find out what went wrong, and hopefully make sense of his colorless life.

Invent a new title:

Dodging Bad Elves (You'll get this when you read the book.)

Read this if you liked:

Obviously, Murakami's other books, but also Jonathan Lethem's Chronic City, or any other "straight" story with magical realism moments sprinkled in for taste.

Meet the book's lead:

Tsukuru, a kind of modern-day everyman, but one who gives off very little personality and just seems to blend into the background. He also LOVES train stations. He designs them, and he spends his free time observing the platforms and people at his favorite Tokyo stations.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

True to the character's description as "middling, pallid, lacking in color," I had trouble really seeing Tsukuru in my mind. I finally just settled on Murakami himself, not because I think the author fits this description, but because I just needed a face, damn it.

Setting: Would you want to live there?

Hell yeah, I'd live in Japan. Well, maybe not Nagoya, Tsukuru's hometown—sounds about as bland as he is. But Tokyo, yeah, sign me up!

What was your favorite sentence?

But even if he had dreamed, even if dreamlike images arose from the edges of his mind, they would have found nowhere to perch on the slippery slopes of his consciousness, instead quickly sliding off, down into the void.

The Verdict:

Warning: Spoilers

As far as Murkami's impressive body of work goes, I'm still a bit uninitiated. Prior to Colorless Tsukuru, I'd only read Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, a novel which I absolutely loved for its wild originality and plot turns, its blend of noir and fantasy, and its ability to ponder existentially without bogging down the narrative. Murakami gives us the opposite qualities with his latest effort, tackling the recognizable, modern-day world and all its doldrums—love, loss, identity, etc. Given this, the narrative overall is much more subdued than in Hard-Boiled, and existentialism takes center stage. 

According to her review for the New York Times, Patti Smith (yep, that Patti Smith) notes that Murakami is usually divided in this way, sometimes giving us his "surreal, intra-dimensional side," sometimes his "minimalist, realist" side. In other words, some books are introspective, and some are focused on external affairs—or, as Stephen King puts it, some are "innies" and some are "outies." Personally, I like a good blend of the two, so Colorless Tsukuru, which is most definitely an "innie," left me a bit underwhelmed. That's not to say that "innies" are inherently bad, and when done well they can hook me just as thoroughly as an excellent "outie/innie" can. I just felt this book was a bit too meandering and unfocused.

Moreover, my problems with Colorless Tsukuru run deeper than a mild aversion to "innies." I took issue with the big reveal about a quarter of the way through the novel, the reason Tsukuru's friends abandoned him all those years ago. It turns out that Shiro, the "most beautiful" female of the group, claimed that Tsukuru drugged, raped and impregnated her while she visited him in Tokyo. None of the other friends believed that it was Tsukuru who committed this vile act, but because of her fragile mental state, they had no choice but to excise him from their group. 

This plot point rubbed me in all the wrong ways. While no one can seem to wrap their brains around an actual statistic, instances of false rape allegation happen far less than everyone believes, mainly because (and I'm referring to conversations I've had with victims here) accusations are often recanted because the victims feel coerced into doing so, either directly by law enforcement agencies, friends and families of the victim and the accused alike, or indirectly by police, family and friends through lack of concern. I'll give credit to Murakami for not demonizing Shiro for her false claims—all the characters, even Tsukuru, understand the mental and emotional context behind their friend's actions, and they never display anger toward her—but I still find this use of the accused-man-as-victim trope off-putting and irresponsible, particularly since the whole thing feels throwaway, a practical means to an end. Murakami seems primarily concerned with the fact that Tsukuru's strong group of friends marooned him; the reason for this marooning feels like an afterthought. If you're going to tackle rape in any way, it shouldn't be casual.

But even if we remove the rape culture implications, the fact remains that a trope is still a trope, and the one Murakami employs here is a tired one. We've seen mentally unstable women falsely accusing men in countless narratives: Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird (albeit, racism was the real focus there), David Mamet's highly problematic Oleanna, Ian McEwan's Atonement (and later the film adaptation), and 90s nostalgia films The Crush and Wild Things, just to name a few. The mystery behind the group's abandonment of Tsukuru was intriguing, and given the craziness of Hard-Boiled, I was expecting the reason for this abandonment to be even more compelling—like, the friends discovered that Tsukuru was a Cylon sleeper agent or something. So Murakami's use of this well-worn device was not only problematic for me, but also disappointing, a let-down.

But hey, I suppose the prose itself was good, so there's that, right? 

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Chris Shultz

Title:

Inappropriate Behavior: Stories

Who wrote it:

Webster University professor Murray Farish, who holds William Peden and Phoebe Fiction Prizes.

Plot in a box:

In his first collection of short stories, Farish follows a cast of characters behaving badly.

Invent a new title for this book:

Characters Gone Wild

Read this if you liked:

Any of the books in the Akashic Noir series (read my review of one here). Farish's stories have the same gritty feel, although they aren't so locale-oriented.

Meet the book's lead:

Of the nine stories, my favorite lead is John from "Lubbock is Not a Place of the Spirit," mostly because he's so off his rocker he's funny.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

One of the Francos. Mind you, he'd have to be dirtied up a bit, get the handsome scratched off, but they have that toothy grin that can look crazy enough to play John.

Setting: would you want to live there?

Let's see what my options are... A boat with a killer. A few towns with crazy people. Nope, I think I'm good.

What was your favorite sentence?

When I get back to the house the next day, Clive is there, reading a magazine, acting like I hadn't shot him and buried him in the desert at all.

—John from "Lubbock is Not a Place of the Spirit"

The Verdict:

The title of this book doesn't beat around the bush. As it suggests, this collection pulls together a variety of stories linked by its characters running the gamut of bad behavior. The full spectrum of inappropriate is included, from little white lies that spin out of control to full-on premeditated murder. And it starts before the end of page one, with the first story's main character making the simple and seemingly innocent decision to lie by omission, a decision that, of course, turns out not to be so innocent after all. And the characters only get darker from there.

Even the author practices a bit of inappropriate behavior, at least by traditional writing standards. In one story the main character directly addresses readers, essentially breaking the fourth wall. In another, there are verb tense changes throughout that give the story a scattered sense of time. In the titular story, there's not only more headhopping in one paragraph than most writers can get away with in an entire novel, but there's also several pages in a row of uninterrupted, unparagraphed questions and a chunk of text at the end where the perspective and voice entirely switch. All of these so-called faux pas are no-no's and difficult to pull off for any author, yet Murray gets away with all of them—effectively—in a single, slim volume. Because let's face it, his characters are crazy, and they need crazy tactics to tell their stories.

I enjoyed this book. Despite the darkness (which, quite honestly, I always like), the stories are easy to get through, and "Lubbock is Not a Place of the Spirit" is downright amusing, which serves as a much-needed breath of fresh air midway through the slog of gloominess. Can't wait to see what mischief Murray's next round of characters get into.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Tiffany Johnson

Title:

A Fairy Tale

Who wrote it?

Winner of the BG Bank First Book Award for his book Amina’s Letters, Jonas Bengtsson has been a rising star in the Danish literary scene. His second novel, Submarino, won the PO Enquist Literary Prize and was made into a film. A Fairy Tale was a finalist for the Danish Radio Literature Prize for Best Novel of the Year.

Plot in a Box:

An ‘alternative’ father tells his son the tale of a king and a prince as they journey through Denmark.

Invent a new title for this book:

I would call it: Fairy Tales Are Darker Than We Think

Read this if you liked:

The Wasp Factory is the book that comes to mind, with its dark heart of secrets and unconventional families, surrounded by a young boy's journey to discover himself.

Meet the book’s lead:

Mehmet Faruk — not his real name, as we never learn that — starts the book as you would a journey, giving us a video clip of his lives, first as a young boy with his itinerant worker father in the black market economy of Denmark, then as a teenager in a nice neighborhood of Copenhagen, before becoming a sometime painter who pays the bills by working for the Post Office.

His whole life influenced by the fairy tale his father created for him as a child, Mehmet never escapes that dark story of a prince traveling with his father, the king, on journeys that bear more than a little resemblance to the original stories the Grimm brothers told so many years ago.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

I think a young Haley Joel Osment (circa Sixth Sense) would probably work in the role of the unnamed boy, while the older Mehmet would suit Liam Hemsworth (of Hunger Games fame), although I don’t know how he’d fit in the teen role. I picture the older character as a glowering outsider who just gets by, rather than the handsome man everyone wants to know.

Setting: would you want to live there?

Reading this, I was reminded of the Scandinavian crime fiction I’ve read in the last few years, not to mention the movies (Let the Right One In) and TV shows (The Killing) set in the darker, colder north of Europe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt I could live there comfortably.

What was your favorite sentence?

"You have to help me find the door in the wall,” he says. Then the carer lets us in.

The Verdict:

This is an odd book, which is hardly surprising as it's set in a world far away from my own in terms of the mindset of the character. I found myself intrigued as to where it was going, the journey leading places I hadn’t considered in any detail.

Mehmet is compelling, describing his world through the eyes of a budding artist; it almost feels like you’re there. The people and places are vivid, with lives and thoughts of their own — the mark of a good storyteller.

The 'fairy tale' created by his father wends its way through the story, providing a counterpoint to the real life events, but somehow the story of the King and the Prince reflect and even influence the narrative. Ultimately, the tale ends with Mehmet's actions, blurring the lines between reality and fiction.

While I understand some of Mehmet’s motivations, I can’t say I liked the ending. Something about it captures the bleakness of living in a place with overly long winter nights. This isn’t crime fiction, so don’t go into it thinking you're going to find the next Sarah Lund or Kurt Wallander. If anything, I guess I was hoping for more for Mehmet, but I guess the author leaves room for that after the events of the book.

Title:

Falling Out of Time

Who wrote it?

David Grossman, an award-winning Israeli author (translation by Jessica Cohen).

Plot in a box:

After his son's untimely death, a grieving father wants to determine where the boy has gone, so he starts walking. Eventually, everyone else in his town starts walking with him. I'm trying to remember if there were any other pertinent plot points, and...nope, that's pretty much it. Also, it's kind of a play? But it's also poetry. But it's a novel. I think.

Invent a new title for this book:

All Our Kids Are Dead

Read this if you liked:

Tlooth, Our Town, maybe The Alchemist. It's a pretty unique work.

Meet the book's lead(s):

TOWN CHRONICLER narrates most of the story, which primarily revolves around MAN (later WALKING MAN), although there is also DUKE, MUTE WOMAN IN NET (::spoiler alert:: not mute for long!), WOMAN WHO STAYED AT HOME, ELDERLY MATH TEACHER, and CENTAUR.

Said lead(s) would be portrayed in a movie by:

Literally anyone in the universe. There are no real physical descriptions for most of the characters. There's a lot of vagueness and poeticalness going on here in general, actually.

Setting: Would you want to live there?

Considering that this town seems to be inhabited exclusively by people whose children have died, I would not qualify for residency. Nor would I want to, honestly.

What was your favorite sentence?

In August he died, and
when that month was over, I wondered:
How can I move
to September
while he remains
in August?

The Verdict:

Why do I always get the most traumatizing Bookshots? I've been a bit glib thus far in my review, but mostly that's to cover up the Intense Emotional Emotionings that Falling Out of Time provides. The entire book is devoted to mourning lost children, so things get a bit deep and teary and oh god, can we maybe not talk about this anymore? I'm not a parent, but this book still hit me pretty hard at times; I honestly don't know how someone who has actually lost a child could get through this thing.

That being said, it's one of the most beautiful works of art I've ever read. As I mentioned, it's kind of a play, and all of these different characters intermingle and exist solely through reference and dialogue. It's also very clearly meant to be poetry, though, with its line breaks and heightened language and allegorical/fable-like qualities. Still, I think it's technically a novel? But really it's one long drama poem thing. Whatever, it doesn't matter: the point is that it's dripping with metaphors and strange imagery and characters who react quite dramatically to the deaths of their children (understandably). At first it seems like only the WALKING MAN is struggling with this kind of grief, but soon he's joined by others, and together they seek to discover death through life and life through death. It's really difficult to describe because so much of the text is abstract or an analog for a depth of emotion that is incredibly hard to verbalize.

Apparently David Grossman's own son died in 2006, and Falling Out of Time is this epic attempt to put into words the fact that he had no words for what he was feeling. There is a lot of growth and motion on this journey he takes through seemingly lifeless characters, but it's much more fluid than the traditional five stages of grief. I say "lifeless" because so may of the characters start out that way, at least partially down the road towards admitting that life holds no meaning for them anymore. What they had thought was their life has been taken away, and the only choice they have remaining is to walk into the unknown in an attempt to get that life back, not caring if they lose what little they have left.

I'm discovering a lot of my thoughts and feelings about Falling Out of Time as I write this, but I think that's mostly because there isn't really one simple book-review-length concept or emotion that the reader is supposed to take away. It fosters a lot of introspection, which I find useful and important. I think the read could be incredibly helpful for anyone in mourning, especially parents who have suffered the loss of a child, but only if they're ready to confront the idea of moving on and leaving some of their grief behind. It's so easy to feel like you're dishonoring the dead if you forget them for even a second, but remembering can hurt so much. The characters in Falling Out of Time strive to find a middle ground, or as WALKING MAN puts it so eloquently as he nears the end of his journey:

You loved us, and were loved,
and you knew that you were loved.
I asked if I could make one more request.
I'd like to learn to separate
memory from the pain. Or at least in part,
however much is possible, so that all the past
will not be drenched with so much pain.
You see, that way I can remember more of you:
I will not fear the scalding of memory.

This book hurt, but a good kind of hurt, a healing kind of hurt, a hurt that maybe now won't hurt so much.

Title:

All I Have in This World

Who wrote it?

Michael Parker has authored six novels and been extensively published in various journals. He is currently a professor in the MFA Writing Program at the University of North Carolina Greensboro.

Plot in a box:

Maria returns to her small Texas hometown for the first time in ten years and runs into Marcus through a chance encounter at a used car lot. Both are running from their past lives, and together as strangers they build the strength to face their pasts and move forward.

Invent a new title for this book:

The obvious choice would be Pinto Canyon, Texas, which is the Texas town where the bulk of the story unwinds. 

Read this if you liked:

This is definitely a worthwhile read if you like "Texas-y" books. Don't be mistaken—it's not an epic like Phillip Meyer's The Son or a work of Cormac McCarthy. The scope of the novel is much smaller and more introspective, but this doesn't negate its craft or its story. This book is a great choice for readers who prefer the intimate over the grandiose.

Meet the book’s lead(s):

Marcus is an unmarried man fleeing his failed Venus flytrap farm—and his creditors. Unsure of what he is doing—and of what he has been doing—he looks toward the future with the realization that he needs to face facts and move forward.

Maria has returned home for the first time after her boyfriend's suicide ten years earlier. During the last decade, she's lost contact with her family and missed her father's death. Still consumed with guilt, she moves back to her mom's house and begins to face her past.

Said lead(s) would be portrayed in a movie by:

I think Mark Ruffalo would be an excellent Marcus.

Surprisingly, the first first two actresses which spring to my mind are Jill Hennessy and Kate Lyn Sheil, but neither are truly viable for the role, as neither are anywhere near Maria's half-Mexican heritage. Jill's languid height and her angular facial structure evoke how I imagine Maria—attractive, but set apart. Kate Lyn Sheil (who looks nothing like how I imagine Maria) is excellent at capturing the external detachment that I think is so central to how Maria interacts with the world.

Setting: Would you want to live there?

While the novel focus on contemporary life in rural Texas, it also follows the life of the twenty-year-old Buick from Ohio to Austin, Texas. There's also a small amount of travel within Texas, and I have to admit, as a native Austinite, I would certainly be willing to live in Texas once again. 

What was your favorite sentence?

She said she'd be back in a few days, and because some part of her she was not proud of but could not quite control wanted to punish her mother, she said, instead of good-bye, "Take care."

The Verdict:

All I Have in This World is a fairly small book. There is little action; the characters are few and the scope is rather narrow. But don't be mistaken into thinking that a book like this one has little to offer. Michael Parker's focus brings us into intimate quarters with his characters and the world in which they live, and he artfully portrays the smallness of their lives in such a way that makes their pains and their mistakes truly universal.

Parker's ability to look at the small moments and inner monologues that make us human doesn't prevent the novel from being fun. Marcus is fleeing the consequences of his rather impulsive effort to establish a Venus flytrap trap ranch and museum on his family's land in North Carolina, and throughout the novel he looks back wistfully at this rather humorous folly. Parker decision to bring his protagonists together over a twenty-year old Buick (which has an entertaining history of its own) is certainly amusing, and he's masterful at creating the touches of humor that occur in everyday situations.

In the end, All I Have in This World is an excellently crafted work of fiction, exploring the lives of "normal" people as they seek forgiveness from themselves and their pasts, and reconsider their definitions of love, friendship, and family. Parker's novel is a wonderful and wistful journey to redemption.

It's an excellent exploration of how we grow to love and accept the imperfections in ourselves, of how the everyday mistakes we make can define the course of our lives, and how the same everyday mistakes can redeem them. It's a beautifully crafted, extraordinarily human novel which elevates our daily lives to their rightful place of significance. 

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Teeney Hood

Title:

All I Have in This World

Who wrote it?

Michael Parker has authored six novels and been extensively published in various journals. He is currently a professor in the MFA Writing Program at the University of North Carolina Greensboro.

Plot in a box:

Maria returns to her small Texas hometown for the first time in ten years and runs into Marcus through a chance encounter at a used car lot. Both are running from their past lives, and together as strangers they build the strength to face their pasts and move forward.

Invent a new title for this book:

The obvious choice would be Pinto Canyon, Texas, which is the Texas town where the bulk of the story unwinds. 

Read this if you liked:

This is definitely a worthwhile read if you like "Texas-y" books. Don't be mistaken—it's not an epic like Phillip Meyer's The Son or a work of Cormac McCarthy. The scope of the novel is much smaller and more introspective, but this doesn't negate its craft or its story. This book is a great choice for readers who prefer the intimate over the grandiose.

Meet the book’s lead(s):

Marcus is an unmarried man fleeing his failed Venus flytrap farm—and his creditors. Unsure of what he is doing—and of what he has been doing—he looks toward the future with the realization that he needs to face facts and move forward.

Maria has returned home for the first time after her boyfriend's suicide ten years earlier. During the last decade, she's lost contact with her family and missed her father's death. Still consumed with guilt, she moves back to her mom's house and begins to face her past.

Said lead(s) would be portrayed in a movie by:

I think Mark Ruffalo would be an excellent Marcus.

Surprisingly, the first first two actresses which spring to my mind are Jill Hennessy and Kate Lyn Sheil, but neither are truly viable for the role, as neither are anywhere near Maria's half-Mexican heritage. Jill's languid height and her angular facial structure evoke how I imagine Maria—attractive, but set apart. Kate Lyn Sheil (who looks nothing like how I imagine Maria) is excellent at capturing the external detachment that I think is so central to how Maria interacts with the world.

Setting: Would you want to live there?

While the novel focus on contemporary life in rural Texas, it also follows the life of the twenty-year-old Buick from Ohio to Austin, Texas. There's also a small amount of travel within Texas, and I have to admit, as a native Austinite, I would certainly be willing to live in Texas once again. 

What was your favorite sentence?

She said she'd be back in a few days, and because some part of her she was not proud of but could not quite control wanted to punish her mother, she said, instead of good-bye, "Take care."

The Verdict:

All I Have in This World is a fairly small book. There is little action; the characters are few and the scope is rather narrow. But don't be mistaken into thinking that a book like this one has little to offer. Michael Parker's focus brings us into intimate quarters with his characters and the world in which they live, and he artfully portrays the smallness of their lives in such a way that makes their pains and their mistakes truly universal.

Parker's ability to look at the small moments and inner monologues that make us human doesn't prevent the novel from being fun. Marcus is fleeing the consequences of his rather impulsive effort to establish a Venus flytrap trap ranch and museum on his family's land in North Carolina, and throughout the novel he looks back wistfully at this rather humorous folly. Parker decision to bring his protagonists together over a twenty-year old Buick (which has an entertaining history of its own) is certainly amusing, and he's masterful at creating the touches of humor that occur in everyday situations.

In the end, All I Have in This World is an excellently crafted work of fiction, exploring the lives of "normal" people as they seek forgiveness from themselves and their pasts, and reconsider their definitions of love, friendship, and family. Parker's novel is a wonderful and wistful journey to redemption.

It's an excellent exploration of how we grow to love and accept the imperfections in ourselves, of how the everyday mistakes we make can define the course of our lives, and how the same everyday mistakes can redeem them. It's a beautifully crafted, extraordinarily human novel which elevates our daily lives to their rightful place of significance. 

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Teeney Hood

Title:

Made to Break

Who wrote it?

Eisner Prize winning debut novelist, D. Foy

Plot in a box:

On New Year’s Eve in 1995, five friends travel to a remote cabin near Lake Tahoe to celebrate and become stranded during a torrential rain storm after a car accident which fatally wounds one of them. As the night rolls on and drugs and alcohol are consumed by the bucket load, egos and friendships shatter as something otherworldly lurks outside in the dark.

Invent a new title for this book:

Drowning

Read this if you like:

The Orange Eats Creeps By Grace Krilanovich, Mira Corpora By Jeff Jackson, Et Tu, Babe By Mark Leyner

Meet the book's lead:

Andrew, earnest friend and slightly pissy narrator, whose only real objective on this New Years Eve in 1995 is to screw his girlfriend, Hickory. Too bad he's got all his best pals around, dying figuratively and literally.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

If I had a time machine, a young Eric Stoltz. But considering that I control neither time nor space, I’ll say Alex Russell (Chronicle). The rest of the cast would be filled out with complete unknowns, except for the role of the enigmatic Super, a Vietnam vet who picks up Andrew and Dinky after their car accident. This role would have to go to Harry Dean Stanton.

Setting: Would you want to live there?

Lake Tahoe? I’d vacation there, but a little too off the grid for my tastes.

Favorite sentence:

I wanted to be naked, to lie naked beneath a tender sun. I wanted the smell of a clean bright day, and heat, tart and dry. I wanted heat that lasted, endless sand, visions of dazzle and grain. Why wouldn’t his eyes release me? … Lanterns, vultures, many things in hell … I made my mind up to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever … Madmen know nothing …

The Verdict:

Ah, the 90s, it was a magical time. The music, the movies, the art (I would include the literature, but, meh), the crazed culture, the star crossed duality of hopeful optimism and biter irony. And, of course, the drugs, the drugs, the drugs. (Can you guess what my favorite part of the 90's was?) Long story short, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but who really gives a shit, who’s got the molly? You do? Fuck, come here, man, you’re my best friend! You know that right? What was your name again?

Yeah, folks, the 90s were kind of a vacuous lump in history. Yes, there were tons of great things that came out of the decade, but for the most part it was all surface with very little substance, with an undercurrent of malice and self-loathing lurking that we all somehow mistook for irony.

This malice is, for me, the core of D. Foy’s debut novel. The group of friends trapped in their tiny Northern Californian cabin all share time and space with one another—most have been friends for a decade—but while reading you can’t help but think that none of them would give a second thought to washing their hands and starting life anew with a shiny set of uncontaminated pals. You guessed it, none of these folks are in the least bit likable or ellicit the slightest bit of empathy from the reader. But does this mean they don’t make for engaging characters? Absolutely not. These hot messes of bruised, malicious assholery keep you turning pages just so you can see their fragile egos shatter into a million pieces.

Like the last four Two-Dollar Radio titles I’ve read, Made to Break has the pacing of a breakneck drugstore thriller and doesn’t cling to any single genre. It plays around the edges of gothic horror and locked room mystery. Foy has a poets gift, blending the everyday with surrealist prose, but not so surreal that he loses the readers attention. Overall, Made to Break is an entertaining, at times artful piece of pulp trash (and I mean pulp trash in the most complimentary way) that will leave the reader spinning.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Keith Rawson

Title: 

Lady Bette and the Murder of Mr Thynn

(FYI: The lack of a period after Mr is intentional...throughout the book the author attempts to stick with 17th century spellings where applicable. It's applicable to the title.)

Who wrote it:

N.A. Pickford, a maritime historian, documentarian, and all-around interesting fella.

Plot in a box:

This is a true story: back in 17th century England, heiresses were hot commodities. Rich men and their families (or men from noble families who needed an influx of cash) bargained for the right to marry an heiress and gain control of her fortune. Sometimes things worked out. Other times, they didn't. In the case of Lady Bette, a 14-year-old heiress widow, things most certainly did not work out. Her second marriage ended with a bang when her new and quickly-estranged husband was shot to death in a plot of epic proportions.

Invent a new title for this book:

Wretched People Being Wretched

Read this if you like:

History, particularly the history of Restoration England. Also, Downton Abbey.

Meet the book's Lead:

Lady Bette (pronounced Betty) Percy-Ogle-Thynn, a wealthy heiress in her early teens who finds herself the pawn in dozens of marriage plots...until her second marriage ends in murder.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

Elle Fanning, but she'd have to dye her hair red. 

Setting: Would you want to live there?

A place where women were either pawns or whores? Definitely not. Though, again, the world of the past holds a huge fascination for me, and it's sketched out in great detail throughout the book. I'd like to visit.

Favorite sentence:

This isn't a sentence. Go ahead. Fuss. It is, though, an excerpt from a bawdy poem written in 1673 about the lives of men and women at court. Enjoy.

Nightly now beneath their shade

Are buggeries, rapes and incests made,

Unto this all sin sheltering Grove

Whores of the Bulk and the Alcove,

Great Laides, chamber maydes and Drudges,

The Ragg Picker, and Heiress Trudges,

Carmen, Divines, Great Lords, and Taylors,

Prentices, Poets, Pimps and gaolers,

Footmen, Fine Fopps, do here arrive

And here promiscuously they swive.

The Verdict:

Lady Bette and the Murder of Mr Thynn is as wild a ride through Restoration England as one could hope to get in a non-fiction book. (Translation: no dialog, all telling-not-showing, and nothing too dirty. This isn't The Tudors or Game of Thrones.) Pickford pulls no punches in describing the cad-like ways of the foppish, arrogant upper class men. They reviled work. They frequented brothels. They drank. They partied. And then they all congregated in medical facilities to receive mercury treatments to keep their syphilis symptoms under control.

It's an ugly world, and a dangerous one for a girl like Lady Bette, who's little more than a bargaining chip. Used by her Dowager Countess (seriously!) grandmother to fund more gambling parties, her hand in marriage is given to the highest bidder. In the meantime, she's hounded by kidnapping plots and coerced into marriage with a total jerk. Reading Lady Bette is a lot like watching an episode of Jersey Shore: you hate to watch, but you can't seem to turn away. 

The book is well-written and immersive. It's easy to lose yourself in the pages for hours on end, reading about this dandy's visit to a whorehouse and that one's visit to the country. Pickford painstakingly recreates a world based on letters, journals and memories, recording an intriguing, heartbreaking story set within an intriguing, heartbreaking world. If you're interested in the lives of British nobility in years past, you probably don't want to miss this book.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Leah Rhyne

Title:

Kinder than Solitude

Who wrote it?

Yiyun Li, MacArthur Fellow and PEN/Hemingway Award-winner

Plot in a Box:

Alternating between past and present, China and America, an omniscient narrator traces the lives of three childhood friends.

Invent a new title for this book:

The Tang Dynasty – the orange powder enjoyed by astronauts plays a key role in the story

Read this if you liked:

Bleak House, Jude the Obscure, Heavier than Heavy: A Biography of Kurt Kobain

Meet the book’s lead:

Ruyu, a grim child sent to Beijing by her grandaunts.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by:

Christina Ricci circa The Addams Family.

Setting: would you want to live there?

Not on your life. It’s a world devoid of beauty.

What was your favorite sentence?

Can't say I found one.

The Verdict:

Relentlessly dreary from beginning to end, Kinder than Solitude presents the world as a dusty repository of heartless, futile hostility. This brittle despair might be right up my alley, but the author, Yiyun Li, offers ornate craft in place of meaning.

Ruyu and her two friends, Moran and Boyang, grow from peculiar little children into standard-issue disaffected adults. Their world is loveless, their hearts empty. Even the poisoning at the novel’s core is devoid of passion. But this arid depression isn't the problem. The overly crafted prose is itself a void. The book reads as though it's grave and profound, but the wisdom is a fraud. 

The author is forever offering grandiose pronouncements to illustrate the details of her characters’ thoughts and feelings.

“When we place our beloved in front of the critical eyes of others, we feel diminished along with the subject being scrutinized.”

Oh, really? This ostentatious insight illustrates a young girl’s love of old Beijing and her anxiety about introducing it to her new friend. But is it true? The expansion of one particular character’s fleeting thought into a universal truth applicable to all of humanity serves only to unmask the sagacity as pretension. 

“But in not giving something a proper name, even in one’s most private thoughts, one makes the mistake of including too much; a childhood friendship, a first love, companionship – all these, confined by their names, would, in touching one part of the heart, spare other, unexposed parts.”

The wordcraft is breathtaking; it's a gorgeous sentence. But what does it actually mean? And is it true?

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Ed Sikov

Title:

The Troop

Who Wrote It?

Nick Cutter aka Patrick Lestewka, author of The Preserve and The Coliseum, aka Craig Davidson, author of Cataract City, Sarah Court, The Fighter, and Rust and Bone.

Plot in a Box:

Every year Scoutmaster Dr. Tim Riggs leads a troop of scouts to an isolated island deep in the Canadian wilderness. Year-after-year has been the same, but with this excursion, The Hungry Man has followed them.

Invent a New Title For This Book:

The Future Belongs to the Worms

Read This If You Like:

The Stand by Stephen King, Red by Jack Ketchum

Meet the Book’s Lead(s):

Tim Riggs is a General Practitioner and lifelong bachelor living in a small, lonely Canadian village that he’s had trouble adapting to despite his long lived practice. His Scout troop is Kent, the son of the town sheriff, “forever” friends Ephraim and Max, class whipping boy, Newt, and budding psychopath, Shelley.

Said Lead(s) Would Be Portrayed in a Movie By:

I think John Hawkes would be a great choice for Scoutmaster Tim. The Troop would, of course, be played by a cast of unknowns.

Setting: Would You Want To Live There?

No, way too far off the grid for my liking.

What Was Your Favorite Sentence?

There is an emotion that operates on a register above sheer terror. It lives on a mindless dog whistle frequency. Its existence is itself a horrifying discovery: like scanning a shortwave radio in the dead of night and tuning in to an alien wavelength—a heavy whisper barely climbing above the static, voices muttering in a brutal language that human tongues could never speak.

The Verdict:

I'll be the first to admit that I have a great big squishy spot for parasite based horror. One of my first cinematic memories is of watching of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The film didn't really scare me, but the idea of a whole other life form living inside your body, recreating you into a weirder version of yourself left a BIG impression. I also have another big squishy spot (no, it's not leprosy) for stories about the government experimenting with deadly life forms that escape and turn humanity inside out, thanks to The Stand by Stephen King. And yes, there's a slightly scabby spot for man against nature stories for no other reason than the deep, deep woods scare the living shit out of me. (It also stems from the belief that humanity really isn't a part of "nature", and "nature" is constantly trying to murder humans.)

You can see where I'm going with this, right?

The Troop contains all of these favorite scenarios. Throw in the angst of rapidly changing 14-year-olds, the loss of the thin veil of adult control, and you have all the makings of a classically honed horror novel. The Troop is a character driven page turner in the same vein as King and Ketchum. Backstory drives the narrative forward as Cutter builds tension from page one with the introduction of The Hungry Man, a walking biohazard starving on his feet that stuffs anything from napkins to roadkill in his mouth to quell its ceaseless rumbling.

For those of you who are picking up The Troop thinking it's going to be a Craig Davidson novel, you are going to be disappointed. True, there are signature flourishes that are undeniably Davidson's—there is no author better at penning action scenes and violence as far as I'm concerned—but you're not going to have the fringe of society characters which typically populated Sarah Court, The Fighter, and Rust and Bone. What you will get instead is 400 pages of high intensity entertainment meant to be read in a single sitting.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Keith Rawson

Title:

Federales

Who Wrote It?

Christopher Irvin, first-time novelist and a fellow Thuglit alum.

Plot in a Box:

An old Mexican federal is pulled out of his self-imposed exile to protect the one woman brave enough to speak out against the corrupt system that has tried to kill them both for their honesty.

Invent a New Title For This Book:

Futilidad

Read This if You Liked:

The Mongolian Conspiracy, any issue of Thuglit

Meet the Book’s Lead:

Marcos Camarena, a decent cop in a dirty town, until his clean nose gets him marked for death by the not-so-invisible powers that be in Mexico City.

Said Lead Would Be Portrayed In a Movie By:

David Zayas, best known for playing Sgt. Angel Batista on Dexter.

Setting: Would You Want to Live There?

Although Federales is set decades after The Mongolian Conspiracy, Mexico City only seems to have gotten meaner. The government has abandoned even the pretense of being the good guys.

What Was Your Favorite Sentence?

They turned onto a side road and headed for the dark heart of the city, where the clouds had eaten the sun.

The Verdict:

Federales is minimalist noir at its best, perfectly evoking a particular time, place and atmosphere with the fewest words possible. Irvin’s sentences are short and brutal like kidney punches, hitting just where needed to have the most impact. As soon as you get a handle on what you think the story is, the status quo shifts drastically without warning. The fact that he was able to render the enormity of Mexico City’s rampant corruption in less than two hundred pages is impressive alone. That he was able to conclude it with a twist ending that felt both unexpected yet inevitable suggests that Christopher Irvin is a future master of the genre making his first contribution to what will hopefully be a long bibliography. Those who enjoyed The Mongolian Conspiracy will find Federales to be a sequel in spirit if not in name.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by BH Shepherd

Title: 

Black Moon

Who wrote it? 

Kenneth Calhoun, a graphics design professor with stories published in The Paris Review, Tin House, and the 2011 Pen/O.Henry Prize Collection. Black Moon is his first novel. More info at his website.

Plot in a Box: 

A handful of southern California residents navigate the crumbling landscape in the wake of a nationwide insomnia epidemic that more or less turns people into zombies (though this isn't a typical zombie narrative). 

Invent a new title for this book:

Sleepless in Seattle, Los Angeles, Dallas, Chicago, Cleveland, Philadelphia, New York City... 

Read this if you liked:

Anything in the zombie camp (though again, this isn't your typical fare), just about anything by Jonathan Lethem, and the heady horror stylings of Ramsey Campbell (even though Black Moon isn't exactly horror, either). 

Meet the book’s lead: 

The novel features an ensemble cast of well-drawn characters, but perhaps the most significant of these is Biggs, one of the few people left who can still sleep naturally. He braves the mean, "sleepless"-infested streets in search of his wife Carolyn, who disappears shortly after succumbing to the worst stages of the insomnia plague.

Said lead would be portrayed in a movie by: 

His name is Biggs, so naturally I pictured Jason Biggs of American Pie fame, last seen displaying some pretty impressive acting chops as Larry in Orange Is The New Black (and thankfully, the character in Black Moon is nothing like Larry).   

Setting: Would you want to live there?

A post-apocalyptic California, overrun with crazed insomniacs, littered with garbage and dead bodies? Probably not, but at least the weather would be nice. 

What was your favorite sentence?

I could very well reprint the entire novel here, as it is a beautifully written piece of work. However, if I had to choose just one (or two), it would be this:

He would press his lips against her closed eyes. He would feel her eyes moving as dreams unfurled before them, a churning kaleidoscope of stories.

The Verdict: 

There's much to love about this debut novel. Perhaps its most attractive feature is the language, which I intimated above. I also compared its author to Jonathan Lethem, and I stand by this, though I think Calhoun's prose is more accessible, but no less stunning, than that of his predecessor. Lethem tells vivid and compelling narratives through literary gymnastics, while Calhoun dazzles with the subdued beauty and grace of a ballet. 

This is not to say that Black Moon is focused solely on language. Calhoun does what every writer worth his or her salt should do: uses his prose as a vessel for telling the reader an evocative, immersive story. By plucking aspects of the zombie genre (the "sleepless" shamble about day and night, becoming dangerous with rage only when they catch someone sleeping, prompting Biggs to feign insomnia in order to "blend in"), Calhoun draws us in with something familiar, but then quickly subverts our expectations with a novel less concerned with action and violence (though he does deliver on this end), and more concerned with psychology and introspection. As I mentioned above, the novel features an ensemble cast of characters, each with their own histories and perspectives that add to the larger examination of a world without sleep. Or rather, a world without dreams, which is the true core of Calhoun's book. What would happen to a species if a significant portion of their collective minds simply stopped functioning? From our Everyman Biggs to Felicia, a college student coincidentally engaged in sleep research at a prestigious center on the coast, to a young child separated from her parents in the wake of the epidemic, as well as several others, Calhoun explores this question from multiple perspectives (with multiple consequences, some of which turn out grim). No characters feel forced, no actions feel false, and each narrative arc is resolved satisfactorily, with a few unanswered questions left perfectly hanging.

The year is early yet, but so far Black Moon is one of the best books I've read in 2014. Likewise, Calhoun has made a Godzilla-size blip on my radar. I've bookmarked his short stories available online, and I can't wait to see what else he has in store for us, novel-wise. A highly-recommended read.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Chris Shultz

Title:

The Roving Party

Who Wrote It?

First time Australian novelist Rohan Wilson, winner of The Australian/Vogel Literary Award in 2011.

Plot in a Box:

Infamous 19th century bounty hunter John Batman leads a roving party of hired and indentured guns in the capture and slaughter of Tasmanian Aborigines.

Invent a New Title For This Book:

Bonfire of the Atrocities

Read This If You Like:

Heart of Darkness, or the Nick Cave-penned film, The Proposition

Meet the Book’s Lead:

Black Bill, a Vandemonian raised and educated as a white man. A skilled tracker and nasty with a knife, he is Batman’s right hand.

Said Lead Would Be Portrayed in a Movie By:

Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, probably best known for playing the stoic Mr. Eko on Lost.

Setting: Would You Want To Live There?

Batman’s roving party hikes across some brutally harsh terrain filled with countless parasites and predators under unforgiving weather, most of them without shoes. Tasmania is definitely not a tourist destination.

What Was Your Favorite Sentence?

Missus, if you shoot some fellow with that little gun and he finds out, by God he will come back and flog you, Bill said and he laughed.

The Verdict:

The Roving Party has an interesting story to tell, about Black Bill’s conflict over hunting and killing his own people in order to feed his pregnant wife, but does everything it can to make reading that story difficult and frustrating. The stubborn refusal to punctuate dialogue properly means that you are frequently confused over who exactly is talking, and going back to figure out which sentences in a paragraph were spoken by the character or the narrator. This is why quotation marks were invented, so why not just use them? I’m talking to you too, Cormac McCarthy. While Wilson has an exacting eye for historical accuracy, most of the book is wasted describing every last rock, tree, leaf and patch of dirt in eye-glazing detail. The scenery to narrative ratio is way off. For every scene of intriguing character development or gut-wrenching travesty you have to wade through many long, meandering passages of repetitive landscape porn that add nothing to the story. All the elements of a top-notch historical Australian western are there, but they’re buried beneath so much faux literary bluster.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by BH Shepherd

Title:

What's Important Is Feeling

Who wrote it:

Adam Wilson, author of Flatscreen and 2012 winner of the Terry Southern Prize.

Plot in a box:

A series of shorts—mostly involving young Jewish men living on the east coast who do drugs, pine over women, and experience failure in both life and love.

Invent a new title for this book:

Failings on the East Coast

Read this if you like:

Gary Shteyngart

Meet the book's lead(s):

An assortment of young Jewish men that are romantically deficient and/or casual drug users.

Said lead(s) would be portrayed in a movie by:

Jesse Eisenberg.

Setting: Would you want to live there?

In a shitty hot apartment...no thanks.

What was your favorite sentence?

When I was stoned I was still horny, I just didn't feel so angry about it.

The Verdict:

What's Important Is Feeling falls into the same trap that many collections do, in that it's too consistent in regards to its theme, its characters, its setting. Many of the leads are young Jewish men struggling with love, relationships, and their transition to adulthood. They do drugs. They live on the east coast for the most part. What this amounts to is a collection in which each story is an echo of the previous one. They aren't carbon copies, but they aren't wholly different either. Some people prefer this type of cohesiveness; I don't happen to be one of them. And I can't ignore the fact that Adam Wilson just so happens to be a young Jewish male living on the east coast, which only further adds to the "is this story about you" topic that readers so often pose to authors.

Don't get me wrong, Adam Wilson can write...and he does so with a certain authenticity and humor that I rarely see. The credentials are there, having been published in The Paris Review, VICE, and Tin House, but I suspect these stories worked better in the context of a literary magazine than a collection. Once combined, they lose all contrast and assume a sort of generic quality. I never found myself hating or loving any of them, but feeling lukewarm about something can be just as dangerous as loathing. Wilson's prose is solid, he definitely knows how to capture the character of a young twenty-something, but I wanted a little more variety out of him. "The Long In-Between", for example, is different in that it's more female-centric, but even then we're still presented the same unlucky-in-life-and-love-on-the-east-coast story that gets dished up for the majority of the collection.

The clear stand-out for me was the title story, "What's Important Is Feeling", a piece that actually takes place on the west coast. It reminded me of an article that was written about The Canyons some time ago, which mostly documented how everything about that movie was going to shit. I quite enjoyed it. But this reprieve in Wilson's book is singular, the one hit among the many stories in which characters and settings are too close, too familiar to differentiate, and therefore, lost in the shuffle. Wilson's stories can work on their own, and they can work in the context of a literary magazine, but back-to-back-to-back is something I had a hard time with. If you enjoy the cohesive element in collections, then I can't recommend this book enough. I tend to lean towards diversity in collections. In the end, I'd much rather love/hate a few stories as opposed to feeling the same about all of them.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Brandon Teitz

Title: 

States of Grace

Who wrote it? 

Stephen Graham Jones, a much published and anthologized author, and a good friend to LitReactor. Much more info on SGJ at his website.

Plot in a Box: 

A collection of flash fiction, some previously published, some brand new. From SGJ’s website: “Exactly fifty stories, none longer than a thousand words, a couple just a sentence or two.”

Invent a new title for this book:

The Father, The Son, and The Devil 

Read this if you like:

Cormac McCarthy, Will Christopher Baer, and Richard Thomas (particularly his short story collection Herniated Roots). 

Meet the book’s lead(s): 

Drunken, disorderly, and regretful dads; determined and sometimes doomed sons; protective and sometimes dead moms; complacently happy couples; dubious sound designers; and, in one instance, possibly the devil.

Said lead(s) would be portrayed in a movie by:

With many of these short tales, I was so whisked away by the language and the narratives, I didn’t really form clear pictures of the protagonists in my head (this is a good thing). However, with "The Piano Thief," which is about a shady individual who burgles your piano one piece at a time, I pictured J.T. Walsh in the role (perhaps most recognizable as the mental patient who creeps out Billy Bob Thornton in Sling Blade). I’m aware this is, like, the fiftieth dead actor I’ve selected for the Bookshots actor question, but do I care? 

Setting: Would you want to live there?

While I enjoy stories set in poor neighborhoods and brushy small towns, I don’t care to live in them (particularly since I’ve actually spent time in places like this). 

What was your favorite sentence? 

After examining the facts for eight-odd years, in which both his wife and his job fell away like a second, unnecessary skin he’d never even known he had, Rick finally decided that it had been obvious, really, and, being not just rational but bound by the smallest of indicators, he had no choice but to admit that that day he’d taken his four-year old son to the beach it had, yes, been almost solely to have him dragged out by a shark.

—From “Seafood”

The Verdict: 

The above sentence is but one example of SGJ’s literary prowess. That is, in fact, the first sentence of “Seafood,” and all his hooks go that way. For instance, the next story in the collection, “Cops & Robbers,” begins thusly: “My wife’s glasses were driving her crazy, so before too long she started killing people in quiet ways.” Words can’t really express the genius of a line like that. It works more like a painting—a vast visual expression that you stand back and absorb as a whole, rather than pick apart and micro-analyze. And this is the case with every word in the book. 

While there are certainly stories that stood out more than others (the aforementioned “The Piano Thief,” “Seafood,” “Cobs & Robbers,” as well as “The Sadness Of Two People Meeting In A Bar,” “Bulletproof,” “Dirty Sanchez,” “Backsplash,” “The Bridge,” “Easy Money,” and last but certainly not least, the title story were personal favorites), there really aren’t any all-out stinkers here. Because this is a collection of flash fiction, States of Grace is a lightning-fast read, and yet each piece feels as fleshed-out and dense as a novel, with SGJ often spanning decades and a wide range of emotions in no time flat. You’re probably familiar with Stephen Graham Jones if you frequent this site, but if not, this is a good place to start.

Note: We usually provide an Amazon link to the book under review, but I was unable to locate States of Grace at that website. No matter, because you can buy this puppy straight from the publishers, Springgun Press, here.

Bookshots review written for LitReactor.com by Christopher Shultz