Worthy Cause: Fill the Shelves!

Fill The Shelves is the brainchild of a small group of writers - but we were all readers first.  Kids who tucked into corners and forts and crannies at our school libraries, harassed the librarians for something new to read, fed our imaginations with the worlds we found in the pages.

Not one of us can imagine growing up without books.

The basics: School librarians compile Amazon wishlists for their school libraries. FTS puts willing donators in touch with these wishlists, the donors order the books and Amazon sends them directly on. It's a very simple way to help many, many children.

When I was a child, there were a simple handful of things that mattered to me: Writing, drawing, roaming outdoors, and, most of all, reading. I was blessed with a mother who read voraciously, and teachers and librarians who were there every step of my education with book recommendations. We were not a wealthy family, so I relied heavily on my school's library and our neighbourhood book mobile program to feed my growing interest in books. Through these portals, my life as a reader became essential to my life as me. If it weren't for books, I would not be who I am today.

Like the FTS organizers, I can't picture childhood without books.

This new charity came to my attention last week, as it was started by a number of indie authors I know online. I'm not affiliated it with it in any way, but I wanted to help spread the word. As readers/writers/humans, it is in all our best interests to engage kids with reading, to keep school libraries up to date, and to help teacher-librarians foster literacy. So far, the org has been a smashing success. As of last time I looked, $4,500 worth of books have gone to libraries in need!

But there are now three new school libraries added that need support.

If you're a school librarian or would like to help, please, check it out!

Review: Fairy and Folk Tales of Ireland by WB Yeats

Fairy and Folk Tales of Ireland by William Butler Yeats
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I read this as part of my research for a short story I was writing, and it ended up taking up taking longer to read than the story did to write! That doesn't necessarily reflect poorly on the book, though, as I found it quite interesting. Engrossing in parts, even.

Here, Yeats gathers and edits stories and myths from Ireland, largely from the translations and collections of other folklorists. It focuses mainly on the faeries, though it also includes water creatures (i.e. the merrow), witches, ghosts, and various mythical creatures. If you're wanting a lot on the mythic heroes, there's some but not a great deal. (You'd want to supplement in this area, I should think.) It does, however, include a good mixture of "traditional Irish" tales and "Irish Catholic" lore, which I found fascinating, such as discussions of the souls of faeries, folk tales about saints and the devil, and so forth. Too many studies are apt to separate "pagan" and "Catholic" beliefs artificially, in my opinion, and this synthesis feels more authentic to Irish culture.

If you're studying Irish folklore for scholarly or academic reasons, I think you can find better sources, though this might be useful as a historical look. The stories are largely anecdotal, and I didn't always know what was regional and what was widespread. Academic sources generally have more specificity to them, which would be necessary to avoid generalizing local legend. However, for a writer or an interested reader, this collection is very nice. I found it highly readable, with a nice feel of the local dialects, and the price was outstanding, if I recall correctly. My one major criticism of this book, in terms of usefulness, is that I'd love to have an edition with an index. Without one, the book is really only useful for a read, and not as a reference.

Finally, it's exciting to read such a record from the pen of such a famous writer, and as a piece of national literature or history of ethnography, it has become something of a classic.

I found it very interesting, and it was useful for my purpose. I'd recommend it, considering its price and classic status, to anyone wanting casual reading or light research on the topic of Irish folklore, with the caveat that it is comparatively light in the hero legends, as well as a bit lacking in the rich cryptozoology of Ireland (aside from the pooka and a few other common ones).

I enjoyed it, though it was a bit of a long haul. It made excellent before-bed reading, one or two stories at a time.

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Review: Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin

Black Like Me: Updated by John Howard Griffin
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

In all honesty, I must admit I have no idea how to rate this book. Given GR's star system, it's confusing to me. It really is sort of "amazing" in terms of its undertaking, compelling material and its impact. Yet, I'm not sure I can give it a full 5, despite its status as a classic. I loved this book in high school, and back then I would have rated it 5 stars without question. Now, as an adult, I hesitate. I will try to explain.

Black Like Me has a couple different aspects, each with different levels of usefulness.

As an early "non-fiction novel" it does ride up there with In Cold Blood. As a story, I found it hard to put down, and I found it quite gripping. Griffin's prose is charismatic and well constructed, and the "story" has a nice progression and flow due to the travel element, from New Orleans to the "heart of segregation," and it's hard not to hold your breath through his travels Southward. I also found his personal reflections fascinating, as his introspection developed.

As "ethnography," I do feel this book has great importance. Griffin records a lot of voices he would not have been able to capture had be not blackened his face, and his vignettes tell the reader a lot about the nature of segregation. While I feel he pulls some editorial punches (for example, I feel he shys away from recording dialects and other details that might have been valuable left intact), and I know he has shaped the material with a particular theme in mind, I also think it's a valuable read for anyone studying this period, or race relations in general. Griffin, from all accounts, seems to have led a remarkable life, and this period is one of its major highlights.

As social justice philosophy, it's of course admirable in its goals. It does demonstrate that skin colour overrode (overrides?) all, since he changed neither his name nor his credentials as he traveled. He was, as he says, the same man, but for colour, and he succeeds in describing the many, many adjustments he was forced to make because of his darker skin.

However, in this area it has dated a bit, in my opinion. Looking at it from 2012, it's hard to embrace the "black face" of it (though Griffin is clear that he never lied to people about being a black man; he just darkened himself and let people decide what they would), but it isn't just the performance of dark skin that makes me uneasy. It's actually the number of times that Griffin uses the term (or concept) of "we" to describe his experience within the black community, and how often he refers to himself as "black" that makes me uneasy. In a way it fits, because he was living under the restrictions, but I wonder at the "right" of this.

But, he spent eight weeks. Eight weeks, out of (at that point) 40-odd years. While the place of pigment can't be discounted, it's difficult to agree that he had become a black man over eight weeks of sharing these restrictions. Always, he knew he could take it off, and return to his "real life". I can't help but think that pretending simply can't reproduce the feeling of permanence. Darkening one's skin can't really compare with living in that skin, and likely feeling (in the 50s) the sense of no escape, ever, from segregation. So, to me, these assertions rather over-stepped into appropriation. I believe Griffin's heart was in the right place, but I do think this is over reaching the limits of his experiment.

As Malcolm X noted about this book, "Can you imagine how much more horrifying it would be to live like this your whole life?"

For this, I pull back a bit from five stars, because over-stressing this book has its dangers, in my opinion, and buying Griffin as an "insider" just doesn't fly. He certainly had a better understanding than people who hadn't walked a mile in those shoes, but he wasn't really an "insider," either, because he knew it was an experiment.

He works much better as a "participant observer," perhaps, although his own emotional "insiderness" was compelling in its own right when it was appropriate. (Of particular relevance were the moments of revelation he had looking at himself in a mirror, and facing his own racism and feelings of complete alienation from the black face that looked back at him.) His space on the margins of the white community in the face of his beliefs and his findings were especially interesting to me.

Griffin's description of the book's reception by the write community is dreadful (literally, filled with dread). The last section of the book feels a bit disjointed and tacked on, which is a pity, but I think it's part of the book's power. (There were a few moments where it went into martyr-mode, but overall he kept it pretty concise and journalistic, and held back from too much self-congratulation.)

Black Like Me, as some critics have said, is a great book on racism - for white people. It is in the book's portrayal of the whites along the way, and the reactions it spurred, that ring the best for me.

The edition I read had an afterword from after 1967, which made an interesting epilogue. By this point, Griffin was noticing that his position as "spokesman" was wearing thin, and it seems he wanted to (and had been asked to, perhaps) step back. He found he was being asked to consult on the "race problem" with white committees who didn't even think to invite black leaders! He was becoming, for white leaders, a safe or more palatable substitute, and that simply didn't work. As he expressed in an interview elsewhere, it had become ridiculous for him to serve as a voice for the black community, when it had many, better voices of its own. For me, this realization went a long way to addressing my concerns in the book itself.

So, final reckoning...? Certainly worth the read, as history and as a work of prose. I would recommend anyone interested in this period or these issues read this, particularly the updated edition. If you want to know more about Jim Crow laws and practices in everyday life, this book could be valuable to you. But, like with most serious issues, I caution that this shouldn't be the only book you read about it. This is not the final word, and I don't believe Griffin meant it to be. But it might make an excellent starting point, and is a good narrative illustration among the numerous academic books on the subject.

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A First Date with a "New to Me" Author?

Comic panel by Amanda Wood. I believe it originally pertained to a mad scientist, but it just as easily applies to first dates, as far as I can tell.

Welcome, Blog Hoppers! If you are here this weekend, you are either (1) a regular (hi, guys!), or (2) coming from the Rebel Reasoning blog hop in honour of Rebel Ink Press's second birthday. 

Hello, one and all!

If you're a regular, you may or may not be aware that Rebel Ink is holding a pretty nifty weekend-long celebration. If you're here as a hopper, that might mean I am a New To You Author!

The theme for this blog hop is "Disastrous First Dates." Well, since we're all friends now, I can admit that I've never had a disastrous first date. Or a date, really. "How can that be?" you might ask. Well, I don't know if it's a generational thing, or just because I'm weird, but I've never actually done the dating thing. I know what dates are, according to TV, but the process never interested me.

So, unless TV has steered me wrong (and, come on, when has TV ever steered anyone wrong?), they go something like this:

You mope around about how gorgeous Dylan (or whatever his name) is, and agonize about WILL HE EVER ASK ME OUT? And, finally, joy oh bliss, he does! Then, the Big Night arrives. You get all dolled up, wondering what to dress for (mini golf, a movie, or brunch in Paris - who knows!?!), and trying not to seem too eager. And then, with a strum of violins, there he is, with his perfectly mussed bedhead with freshly frosted tips. How dreamy! He takes you to that new bistro, and you proudly show him off to the envious girls sitting with lesser mortals around you. You consume very little, pretending that, as a lady person, you never, ever eat. He chats about lacrosse, and you hang on every word. He mumbles something massively ill-informed about the election, and, of course you agree (who cares if your SAT scores are bigger than his waist size? He's too cute to correct!). Then comes the end of the formal non-eating part, and it's time to go. Oh dear! He's forgotten his wallet! Oh well, you have extra money, and anyone can forget something, right? Besides, expecting the man to pay is antiquated. Still pretty into him, you leave the bistro. On the drive home, you're anxious. Will he kiss you? Should you kiss him? Outside your home, he leans towards you - the moment has arrived! Closer, closer, closer... And he plucks a pin out of your hair and starts to pick his teeth with it as he responds to a text on his cell phone.

And... you ditch him and go get yourself a damn sandwich.

Okay, so maybe that's not how dates go, but I still can't say I feel deprived.

Anyway, back to the blog hop. When I discovered I was (clearly) ill-prepared to discuss this topic, I did panic a moment. What would I write? I briefly considered faking a first date disaster, but that didn't seem quite ethical. Instead, I thought to write about something I do know well - reading.

The topic got me thinking. Taking the plunge with a "new author" is a lot like a first date. 

When you take a chance on a new date, you take a risk by spending out a little, either on a meal or a new piece of clothing. This is similar to trying a new author. Judging by the cover and description, you decide the price might be worth it. Maybe you're lucky, and a good friend recommended the author (or date, even), so you start out a little eager.

Could this be The One? The GoodReads dreamboat you've longed for?

In the best case scenario, your friend did know your tastes, and you're off to the races. That money you paid out was no great loss, because hours later you're curled up in bed with the best [novel] you've ever had.

It's love at first sample!

Worst case scenario is not so nice. You take a look, you roll your dice, and... The characterization is shallow, the editing brutal, and the politics are rather iffy. The book drops you off early with a cold shoulder, or, worse, gets a flat half way to no where, and you never arrive to the destination at all. You never take that friend's recommendation again.

You've had a lousy First (Book) Date.

Ouch.

I understand. I know there's a lot of anxiety involved in leaving your tried and true crowd of writerly folk and going off with some handsome looking piece of fluff you met online. There are a lot of come-hither covers on Amazon, and you never know when all you're going to get is a handsome face.

Recently, I've enjoyed both sides of this. The weekend before last, I inhaled yet another book by one of my old favourites, Debbie Macomber. I wouldn't say we're going steady, but we see each other a lot. I like picking up one of her books, because I know there's always a 90% chance that that book-date will be a good one. Yet, sometimes you want some adventure, right? You want that thrilling first date with someone new! So, shortly after that, I tried one from a totally-new-to-me writer, Jean Brashear. It was an exceptional evening. I spent the whole night in a tight ball with a box of Kleenex, reading into the wee hours of the morning, despite having things to do the next day. (You readers will know that these are signs of a successful book encounter. But I'm guessing if you spend a whole night on a date-date with a box of Kleenex, that might not be such a good sign, FYI.)

I admit, there have been New to Me authors (who shall remain nameless here) who stuck me with the bill, and a few who had me calling a cab home halfway through. Alas! However, I can honestly say I've had more "surprisingly good" first (book) dates than not, and New to Me Authors are the spice of the romance-lover's book habit. And, just think, there are so many more left to discover! (Some of them right here in this blog hop!)

So, there you go. My "first date" analogy.

My advice: When it comes to books, do yourself a favour and date around!

Please be sure to visit the other bloggers in the hop - I am sure they're have a lot more authentic first date stories than I. Unless one of them dated a dreamy guy named Dylan. In which case, best not to mention my post to them, okay?

Happy second anniversary, 

Rebel Ink Press!

And don't forget - all Rebel Ink Press titles are 25% off at AllRomanceEbooks, so you've got plenty of chances to find your New to Me Author!

All illustrations courtesy of Rebel Ink Press or artist Amanda Wood.

Truth

I read an Indie (aka Self-Published) novel recently. I can't say it was good. It kind of wasn't. The writing was on par for some of my mid-range students. The formatting was atrocious, and the errors numerous, and, through the unhappy combination of the two, most of the sentences and paragraphs read like they'd been through a blender. I had to read a lot of the bits multiple times to understand them. So it wasn't great.

But, yet, something about it stuck with me.

I appreciate beautiful writing. Normally, typos and grammatical errors can pull me right out of the book, and this book was no different. But, the overall feel didn't dissipate for some time afterwards. With better execution and editing, it might have been a great book.

But I'm not really writing about the grammar here, but about that Other Thing that caught my attention.

Truth.

Now, having been in the university system as long as I have, I know Truth is an iffy word for me. Capital-T Truth - does it exist? Likely not, on the grander scale. But, I think for authors it does.

There were moments in this book when the author showed genuine, fearless Truth. Glimpses of himself. Real, honest, raw insights into his childhood, which was the kind no one should have to endure.

I don't know, perhaps all of that emotion and honesty got in the way of the technical aspects of his writing. I could understand that. It happens to all of us, even when we aren't writing such harrowing tales (which is why I thank the heavens for objective editors).

What is this thing, authorial Truth?

For me, it's when I feel like I am no longer reading a book by a stranger, but hearing the intimate, confessional whispers of someone close by. Some of the best authors can make you feel this way through the most fantastic fictions; others through unflinching recounting of their real history. But, as a reader, you feel it to the marrow. You are sucked into the most painful empathy. When the author-as-child cries out, you know the author still feels that cry, and you feel it, too. This, to me, is Truth.

There have been brief moments when I have written my own Truth.

Even in some of my published works, I can see the honesty, crouched and veiled to my satisfaction. Sometimes, too much honesty, and I am grateful most of my readers don't know me personally, because I wouldn't be that honest with people I actually know in real life. I don't write about true events in my published works (so far), but I write about things I've actually felt, and I can see it lurking around the edges of my characters' minds.

But, for the most part, I do flinch. I protect, I huddle, and I hoard my Truth. It wouldn't be too far off the mark to call me Standoffish. My personality is generally, "Friend to all, close to none." I wasn't born under a poker table, but I should have been.

This book, for all its glaring errors, made me ask myself why that should be. Is that what's missing from my books? Would they be better if I didn't edit out so much Truth? Will these new projects, some of them extremely close to me, be better if I stop being so guarded?

Can I summon the courage?

It's hard to tell, but I thank that author for his honesty and Truth, and for making me ask these questions. Writers are blessed people. We have so much productivity in our profession from which to draw such questions, thoughts, rambles. I found some in a rather unlikely place, this time, which ennobled the book in my eyes, whatever the style. Beauty can be more than just the lines, I think.

Long live Truth.