“She is all nerve as she enters the room and surveys the waiting crowd…the dance hall girl is industrious. She is never vacillating or undecided, she is persevering. She does not flit about the room bestowing a smile here a caress there and again a pouting neglect. When she selects her victim, she stays with him. The more marked her favor, the greater is his triumph. He needs her to complete a spectacle of himself as a favored beau…” -1 pg. 56
My historical romance, A Drink of Darkness has been just as much fun to research as to write. Set in the Yukon Gold-rush boom-town of Dawson City in 1898, I have spent a lot of time gathering information about the setting and the people of Dawson.
My Saloon Girl Helena, and my vampire ladies of the night Eve, Bianca and Liz are complete works of fiction, but I drew my inspiration from reality. I used many sources for my writing, but one of my favorites was Lael Morgan’s Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush.
This was one of the first books I picked up when I moved to Alaska 12 years ago, and it is a great resource on these women who were an integral part of pioneering what is still referred to as the last frontier. Her book follows the ladies through the entire rush. My post will stick to a specific location and time period for now. I decided to put together this short blog post to pay homage to this reference and to these unique, real ladies of Dawson City in 1898.
Here is a link to Lael Morgan’s fascinating book and where you can buy it on Amazon if you are interested
Ms. Morgan uses photo’s from the various archives and stories of these women’s lives to show how they shaped not only the Gold Rush, but Alaska and the Yukon Territory’s fate. It is a fascinating journey through an era where women were forbidden from: owning a Saloon, wearing bloomers, and in some areas prospecting or owning a claim. Prostitution was illegal in the Yukon and Alaska territory, but law enforcement looked the other way and often protected these ladies, seeing the services they provided as a necessary evil to keep the lusts of the men at bay, lest they take it out on “respectable women.” These women came north, often packing their gear themselves over the treacherous Chilkoot Pass or taking the 1600 mile all-steamer-route.
Federal Judge James Wickersham, who presided over Alaska
during this time kept a collection of pictures of these ladies (which can be
accessed via the Alaska Digital Archives). He spoke well of the “Good Time
Girls.”
“The sporting women were of a more robust class than usual among their kind, hence there were fewer cases of venereal disease among them…The women were also younger, more vigorous and independent than those of the same class in the older more crowded communities in the states…” -1 pg. 19
He later went on to say:
“A goodly number of these women yielded to the persuasions of their favorite male customers, quit the life of the dance hall or the bawdy house, and calmly settled down to a quiet home life with their husbands…It quite frequently became my duty as judge to perform marriages for persons of that class and more often that not the marriages were successful.” 1-pg. 51
While this sounds really sweet and romantic, history (and Ms. Morgan’s book) paints a slightly different picture. The hardships and economics of the decisions could be very persuasive. The cost of living was high. Rent on a basic cabin or tent in Dawson could be $30 a month, not counting food. To stay single and in a “respectable job” (nurse, school teacher, secretary were a few of the limited options), these jobs only paid around $20-$30 a month, if that. They were literally skewed to force these women to marry-or to consider less than respectable options.
A saloon girl could make a base pay pouring whiskey of $40 a
week, plus 50% of every drink or bottle she could sell, plus tips. Easily
clearing hundreds of dollars a week if she could hustle and was pretty. Dance
Hall, or “Hurdy-gurdy” girls made a dollar a dance or a drink plus tips—and the
men tipped generously for the privilege. Girls managed to squeeze in over 100
short dances a night. The prostitutes (at least the attractive ones) could make
upwards of $250 a night. Meanwhile marriage was a gamble. Mortality rates were
high. There was no guarantee that a miner would find (and keep) a good claim.
Even if he did, if he happened to die, she could lose the claim, not having the
ability to work it herself.
This sounds cold and calculating, but in a town (and time) where men outnumbered the women by a landslide, these women didn’t come north to find husbands. They came north to make a fortune, just as the men did. And they did it the only way society would allow. I am not going to go into deep detail, if you want that, please read Ms. Morgan’s book, but here are a few of their pictures and stories.
**All of the pictures below courtesy of the Alaska Digital Archives. For permissions on usage of photos, please follow the instructions on their web page: https://vilda.alaska.edu/
Rose Blumkin, The Fairy of Dawson
Rose Blumkin, the Fairy of Dawson and later Nome. Image ASL-P-277-001-185 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
She worked officially as a Dance Hall and ticket girl at the
Monte Carlo theater (though she couldn’t dance or sing), but her love of fine
jewels and ball gowns (and her police record) suggests she did a lot of work
between the sheets to support her lavish spending. After her stint in Dawson
she moved to Nome with the rush.
Golden Belt
Gold nugget belt made for Rose Blumkin. Image UAF-1964-92-278 Selid-Bassoc Photograph Collection
A picture of a belt of gold nuggets commissioned by one of
the “Kings of Dawson” to be made for Rose. From reading Ms. Morgan’s books, the
men, coming into these insane fortunes had little to spend it on other than
whiskey and women. To show their newfound prowess in finding gold, they
lavished it on the good time girls—to the extreme. Their mindset was, if I need
more, I can just dig it out of my claim.
Menawhile, one of my favorite quotes from Diamondtooth Gertie
Lovejoy:
“The poor Ginks just gotta’ spend it…they’re scared they’ll die before they get it out of the ground.” 1-pg. 58
While arrested (and fined) for running a house of prostitution, Babe Wallace did well enough that she was able to import a piano to her establishment. She eventually left the Yukon, but died young in 1911.
The Oregon Mare
The Oregon Mare, Ethel Nellie ASL-P-277-001-192 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
One of the things that I found highly amusing in my research
was some of the creative nicknames of the ladies: the Swedish Queen, Nellie “the
Pig” Lamore, Diamond Tooth Gertie, etc. I used this in my writing, creating my own
nicknames for my working gals. This is a photograph of a lady known as the Oregon
Mare, real name of Ethel Nellie. A popular prostitute in the early days of
Dawson. She is even mentioned in a Robert Service poem. Considering he got to Dawson
in 1908, long after the initial rush, Ethel would have moved on by then, he
would have known her by legend only.
The Dutch Kid
“The Dutch Kid” ASL-P-277-001-186 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
This is a photo from Judge Wickersham’s collection. He
withheld her real name, only noting that later she became a nurse. Often times
when the ladies would leave the “profession” (and the region), they would do
everything they could to conceal their past. Their husbands and families were
often eager to assist. Some speculate that this lady was actually the first prostitute
into the region.
The Gypsy Queen
The Gypsy Queen ASL-P-277-001-193 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
As previously mentioned, not all the ladies were prostitutes. Here is a picture of the Gypsy Queen, Mrs. Curly Monroe, wife of a local Saloon owner.
Lucy Lovell was a popular American actress who had toured the London stage and decided to give the north a try. She made her fortune in the Klondike. Unfortunately, she contracted tuberculosis during her tour of the territory. She retired to Arizona and passed away shortly thereafter.
May Stanley
May Stanley, Dance Hall and Whiskey Girl ASL-P-277-001-183 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
May Stanley worked as a Dance Hall girl, selling whiskey and dances with men (which was legal). Morgan’s research indicates that since her name does not appear in any police reports linked with prostitution that she never worked as a call girl. My character Helena’s job is modeled after girls like her, trying to make a living without selling themselves.
Klondike Kate “The Belle of the Yukon, the Sweetheart of the Sourdoughs” 1-pg 157
Klondike Kate Rockwell, Queen of the Klondike ASL-P-41-56 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
And of course, the most famous and bold of the Dawson girls. Born Eloisa Rockwell in 1876 in Kansas. Technically, she didn’t get to Dawson until 1900 (though she would have been in Seattle and Skagway at the time), so I can’t include her as part of my story, but I have to mention her. She made and lost a fortune as a Good-time girl. She was known for putting on quite a show. In one act, she would wear a skimpy leotard and roller skate around the stage (skimpy for the era). In her famous “Flame Dance”, she wore yards of sheer chiffon had fans blow it about her while she shimmed in front of red lights.
Ms. Morgan’s book and the Alaska Digital Archives have been a treasure trove of information on the period. I hope you have enjoyed my post about them and will check out her book and the archives! maybe someday A Drink of Darkness will see the light of day as well…only time will tell!
References
Morgan, Lael; Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush. Epicenter Press, Inc, 1998.
The Dark Land, Available on Amazon
Thanks for reading! My Alaska horror novella is currently available on Amazon:
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps-even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits in the isolated boundaries of The Dark Land
A paranormal thriller/horror novel by Shawn Burgess, now also available as an audio book.
The parallels we find between fiction and real life at times
can be ironic and unsettling at the same time. Shawn Burgess’s The Tear
Collector is paranormal thriller/horror novel about a group of boys in a
small town who are trying to help the police find their missing classmate, Margo
Combs. She’s an autistic girl who has gone missing in the woods. As the clues
come unraveled and bodies pile up, they realize that Grief Hollow, is more than
just a name.
Shawn asked me to ARC read his novel months ago and I put it into my calendar for June 2019.
As I sat down to read Shawn’s story, a real-life version of this is rocked Anchorage, AK and the surrounding cities to their core. A 19-year-old special needs girl went missing at the beginning of June 2019, her body turned up a few days later on a popular hiking trail. The horror of what happened to her, and the callous disregard for human life has everyone asking, why?
At this point in the investigation, five teenagers have been arrested with conspiring to murder, sexual assault and other charges. A man in another state is being extradited to Alaska as part of the plot. There is so much that is terrifying about this tragic story that it is hard to wrap one’s mind around it. People often refer to Alaska as a “Little Big Town,” though large in area, it is small in population. Almost everyone I work with or know has some connection to someone involved in this case.
The fact that such evil exists in the human heart and mind
is mind boggling. That someone who seems benign, who you interact with every
day, could be plotting horrific murder. You almost wish there were a driving
force behind it. Some sort of horrific greater evil that it could be blamed on.
Shawn’s story, by contrast, is a more traditional
paranormal/horror story. The adults don’t want to believe their eyes and
senses. There must be a logical, “normal” explanation for the deaths and
disappearances. A serial killer, animal attacks, kids just screwing around. The
kids in his story, on the other hand are more in tune with their senses and are
willing to believe what they see.
Shawn’s setting and characters hook you from the very start. When Brady tries to kill the tent caterpillars in Grief Hollow, you know this is not going to go well.
***I was shaking my head, thinking oh no, don’t do it! But then I think of some of the REALLY dumb things we did as kids. We’re lucky we didn’t end up dead, maimed, or in “Juvy.’
The story only grows darker as you move with the club of
young boys, the “Markland X Crew,” through the small town of Harper Pass and
the woods surrounding it. They try to not only find their missing classmate,
but figure out who or what has “marked” its inhabitants. The Markland X Crew
battles bullies, stalks their suspects, and tries to stay one step ahead of the
supernatural evil stalking Harper Pass.
Setting
While The Tear Collector is supposed to be set in Appalachia, it could easily be transplanted to any small town. Even the one I grew up with, just exchange desert for woods. Shawn paints a vivid picture of small-town life, where everyone knows everyone else’s business. Grudges are carried through generations. For the kids, the world revolves around being in the popular crowd at school.
Characters
I have mentioned it in other reviews. I hate the question,
“what is this story like?” or “What author is this writing like?” But I do have
to admit the theme and style in this story reminded me greatly of two stories
by Stephen King: IT and the Body (better
known as the movie Stand by Me). It also kind of reminded me of a
mash-up of the Monster Squad and the Sandlot. Shawn
uses the themes of camaraderie and support as the boys of the Markland X Crew are
forced to band together to unravel the mystery of Grief Hollow or suffer the
same fate as their classmates.
I can think back to when I was a kid; and my brother, my
cousin and myself would roam the trails, canyons and old abandoned mines of the
Mojave Desert, solving mysteries and outwitting enemies in our heads. This
story speaks to that innocent desire we have as children to solve the riddle
that is baffling the adults, save the day and be the heroes.
When we realize that what is worrying the adults is that
fact that when the mask is ripped off the monster, just like in Scooby-Doo, and
what is beneath is revealed to be nothing more than another human, a little
more of our innocence is stripped away. We start to grow up and deal with the
harshness of reality. We realize that the monsters ARE other humans. We can’t
spray holy water on it or wave an amulet and make everything right. The evil
still exists even as the police lock it away, and the dead stay dead.
The characters he creates throughout the story are easy to
invest in. Professor Wadlow, reminding me of a cross between “Scary-German-Guy”
from Monster Squad and Laslow from Real Genius. Detective Holt trying to get on
top of the pile of bodies and his crumbling personal life. Tee’s sister Angela,
who just wants to head off to college and forget her part in the past troubles
of Grief Hollow. But I will focus more on Shawn’s main characters below.
Brooks
He creates a believable and sympathetic character in Brooks
Raker, for the most part our main character/narrator. Brooks is willing to do
anything to join the Markland X Crew. Shawn shows us a somewhat awkward
tweenaged boy with few friends.
My mom draws her head back, and her eyes grow wide; but
after a moment her face lights up in a big smile too. She isn’t accustomed to
me running off to play with friends, as in more than one.
His character reminded me of a cross between “Smalls” from
the Sandlot and Gordie Lachance from Stand By Me. He has Smalls desire to fit
in, but he’s not as innocent or gullible. Character wise, he’s a little more
like Gordie, a young boy trying to figure out where he fits in the world.
Brooks has realistic thoughts about girls and video games and even adult
things. He is deeply empathetic to his friends’ emotional baggage, which we
learn about as the story goes on. He is often the voice of reason to the rest
of the group’s rash behavior. It is his initiation at the beginning of the
story that sets him in juxtaposition to Sammy, the bully who already has it out
for him. He ends up as the last person to see “Mysterious Margo” when he
escapes from Sammy’s torture into the woods.
I enjoyed Brooks as a character. He has realistic hopes and
fears of wanting to fit in, yet not wanting to get in trouble with either his
parents or the law.
Shawn does a good job of slowly developing the trust between
the boys in the Markland X Crew. Even though they have made a vow to one
another as part of the club, their bond deepens as they realize they can’t turn
to the adults with what is happening, they can only rely on one another,
“brothers from another mother.”
“You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had. I’ll always
be here for you. No matter what. Brothers.” My voice fractures, the tortured
grimace on Robby’s face leaving my stomach as hollow as an empty grave. It’s
not fair. Man… It’s just not fair. I deliver several soft pats on Robby’s back,
moisture gathering in my eyes.
The Markland X Crew
The other boys of the Markland X Crew are believable and
relatable as well.
Robby
Fatherless Robby, who covers his raw emotions over his
father’s death with rash behavior and bravado.
As Devin’s face flounders, I feel the weight of
everything unsaid pressing upon me, the sharp divide separating Devin from the
truth of Robby. The boy in pain behind that carefully constructed mask. The boy
who lost his dad but also his mother to the long work hours and two jobs she
had to get to support them. How the church turned its back on Robby and his
mother after his grandparents paid for a Disney trip following his dad’s death.
How small-town grumblings, a secret stash of money, the family better off than
they’re pretending to be, became rumor that’s accepted as fact. And how those
rumors spread quick as wildfire in a small town like Harper Pass until the
spigot of compassion runs dry. But it’s not my place to tell.
Tee
Tee is a sort of middle ground between steady Brooks and
rash Robby.
“Keep your voice down, bro.” Devin pushes his palms at
the ground.
“Come on, Tee. You’re the only one who can fit.”
“Yeah man. Don’t you want to save your friend Margo?”
Tee throws eye daggers at Devin. “She’s not my friend.
You guys are my friends, but you’re not acting like it.”
Devin
Dev, the new kid in town. Shawn shows us a boy whose seeming
reckless behavior is both a reflection of his desire to fit in with his new
friends and a lack of understanding of the local myths and legends (that have
the other boys fearful).
I’m not sure what to make of Devin. In the few hours I’ve
known him, I’ve already determined he’s one of the bravest kids I’ve ever met.
But I wonder what’s behind that bravery. Crazy or just curious? Maybe curious.
We talked about it a lot. And he’s never been. Probably just doesn’t know any
better.
Antagonist and Plot Resolution
Shawn uses a mash-up of science and myth to create his evil within the woods. I would love to tell you more, but at the risk of spoilers, I will refrain from delving into too much depth here. Perhaps after it has been out for a while, I will release my version of this review with spoilers.
I will say that our young heroes go on a nightmarish ride, often escaping by the skin of their teeth. They always adhere to the mantra that they never leave a member of Markland X Crew behind. When it is clear that they are all marked by this evil, they decide that they need to go face it together, rather than wait for it to destroy them one by one, reminding me of the teamwork and bravado of the children in Stephen King’s IT.
I gulp hard at Devin’s proclamation. We’re screwed! Can’t
go to the police. Can’t go to our parents. Not like we can leave town. We’re
sitting ducks.
Head-hopping/changing PoV
My one beef with the story was the PoV changes. We start out
in 3rd person in the intro, jump to 1st person when we’re with
Brooks, then jump back into 3rd person when we’re with other
characters. I brought this up to Shawn in that I felt he should have just either
stuck with Brooks in the 1st person the whole way or stayed in 3rd
person with everyone. Unfortunately, at this point, it is a little late to
change it.
Either way, it didn’t keep me from finishing the story. I
read this straight through from start to finish, because I HAD to know what the
thing in the woods was and if the Markland X Crew would come out on top. The
story got more and more twisted as it went (just the way I like it). There’s a
scene with a centipede that made me say out loud, “Shawn, what the f–k?”
Teaser
…his body like a giant centipede with a waxy, burned-umber exoskeleton banded black at the edges of its body segments. Dozens of spiny legs screech over the steel bumper, shimmying forward in unison. The long, dagger-like legs that taper to fine needlepoints at the tips slice through the clear coat on the hood of the car. Cam’s breathing devolves into unmeasured, frantic panting. His heart jackhammers in his chest at the grotesque sight of its glossy, alabaster underbelly passing over the windshield, his ears in a state of revulsion as its lance-like legs chisel out chunks of glass as it ascends. The roof creaks before groaning under the weight of the creature, the squeal of scraping metal serrating Cam’s eardrums as it pulls the last of his hideous body over the windshield.
And it only got worse from there…
Can’t wait for the sequel!
Thanks for reading! My own horror novella, The Dark Land, is available on Amazon. If you’re interested in Alaska backcountry horror, check it out.
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits in on the isolated trails of The Dark Land.
As previously stated, #DKMasquerade and #AKChickenChick are collaborating to run a bar in Chicken for Dust to Dawson week. I love how a lot of people have already jumped into the spirit of things and started developing characters. Many of you have asked, what is the “Panty Cannon.” Well here is a little story I wrote to introduce the infamous cannon and give credit to a couple of creative characters so far. Enjoy!
Sign behind bar
“Don’t worry, running the café and gift shop will be a
breeze, Aly.” Ashley assured their new hire. “For the most part you’ll just be
ringing up orders. For some reason my parents have a hell of a time with our
new credit card system.”
Aly nodded and smiled. The woman had rolled into town the
night before and saddled up to the bar. She had an air of mystery and
loneliness about her as she sipped a beer and poked at a bowl of chicken noodle
soup. When a German tourist asked her where she was from or where she was
going, she gave vague, listless answers. Her eyes kept drifting to the help
wanted sign above the bar. When Ashley asked her if she were looking for a job
for the summer, the woman’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. While mom and
dad were doing an okay job running the café, they could definitely use some
help.
Ashley got the impression that Aly was on the run from
something, but out here in the 40-mile, half the population was. When a slick
TV crew came to Chicken a few years back, wanting to cash in on the reality
show craze, the miners ran them off. Half of them have outstanding felony
warrants, and the other half? Well, let’s say they’re not the social type.
There’s a reason they chose to live in the middle of nowhere.
“What’s that?” Aly asked, pointing at the big iron tube
sitting on the corner of the bar as Ashley poured her a beer.
The Chicken Creek Saloon Panty Cannon
“That’s the panty cannon,” Ashley replied with a smile. She
found herself blushing inexplicably as the dark-haired man at the back of the
bar caught her eye and grinned. He’d rolled in late last night and rented one
of their cabins for a few days.
“The panty cannon?” Aly asked. Then her eyes went wide as
she pointed to the thousands of shredded panties stapled to the ceiling. “Ah,
explains a lot.”
“Yeah, if a girl—or a guy, give up their goods, we blast
them off in the cannon, then we collect the shreds and staple them to the
ceiling. As you can see,” she motioned with her hands, “it’s been a tradition
for years.” Ashley cracked an ale and took a swig, trying to cool the heat in
her body as the dark-haired guy continued to gaze at her.
“So, how many are yours?” Aly asked with a twinkle in her
eye.
Ashley choked on her beer. Can’t wait until Liberty gets here. He’d be just her type. Or maybe yours? Nah. Liberty likes the bad boys. You don’t. Right?
Me and my father-in-law Shep, having a beer at the bar in Chicken, AK
Thanks for reading! This weeks prompt word will be LIBATION. What does your character choose to quench their thirst? Beer? Whiskey? Coffee? Plain water? Or are they quenching a different sort of thirst entirely? I look forward to reading the posts!
I always thought I would have made a perfect spy, if my MS hadn’t got in the way. There were times in my early 20’s when I was still struggling with my diagnosis that I created a sort of alter-ego for myself. The healthy, super smart me, and how she would have kicked a$$ if only given the chance. It was a way of coping when times got tough. Now I still look back at my unique character I created, and I feel like I should probably revisit her. So for my fun group of followers, here is a taste of Daniella the spy-well, her alter-ego Amber that is.
The blue gel ink flowed
across the white page, numbers spilling their secrets. She bit the plastic tip
as she pondered the lines and scratch marks she had created.
There
you go again…sneaky little 2. Always trying to prove you’re better than
everyone. Looking at the way this is going I think your brother 3 is going to
come out on top this time. Won’t that just piss you off? You won the last three
rounds. Can’t you ever let it rest? No, I don’t suppose you can. Just like I
can’t.
She sat back, taking in the whole picture of the equation’s ebb and flow. She, surveyed the battle between the numbers, the story of their little dramas building on the page.
Did
I make a mistake? I don’t think so. The story seems to be coming together. It
makes sense.
She smiled to herself,
thinking of Kayla’s question the last time she tutored her.
“Why do you always use
pen? Aren’t you afraid of making a mistake?” Her smoky-topaz eyes blinked
critically while she played with the small black stud in her left nostril.
“I’m not afraid of making
a mistake,” Amber replied with a shrug. “Mistakes are no big deal. If I make
one, I just cross it out and start over.”
“Yeah, but that’s because you’re good at this,” Kayla had sighed, picking at the burgundy lipstick on her full lips. The glittering green nail polish contrasted sharply with her dark-bronze skin.
“You’re good at this too, Kayla.” Amber replied, tapping the page to get the teen to focus on the problem again. “I’m really proud of your last test score, chica. Can’t wait until you take the AP Exam. You’re going to blow the scale.”
“But not like you. It’s like you’re super-human or something. What’s your secret?” Kayla said.
Amber a hand over her
neat bun of golden-brown hair and bit her lip. “No secret. I just really like
math. Let’s get this done so we can practice your triple integrals again.”
Kayla rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh as she flipped her beaded braids over her shoulder. She picked up her pencil and moved to the next problem.
My secret? Amber thought, looking down at the blue ink spread across the white paper. I stopped telling anyone about that when I was about 5. It’s not like anyone believed me anyway. Mother threatened to have her shrink give me pills if I kept lying. At least the numbers are my secret friends. I wonder if they share their stories with anyone else?
“Miss Schroder?” Amber’s
head jerked up. Her mother’s tennis instructor Wren, stood before her, sweat in
every crease of the woman’s skin-tight, black fitness gear, leaving nothing to
the imagination. The woman’s frequency beamed at her like a spotlight. Amber
blinked and focused, adjusting herself to the intense harmonic of the woman’s
yellow bubbly glow as she internally pictured the woman’s basic equation.
“We’re done with our lesson. Katherine said to give her just a few minutes to
freshen up.”
“So at least another hour
then?” Amber replied with a smirk.
“Maybe two.” Wren agreed
with a nod, chestnut ponytail wagging. She daubed the sweat from her neck with
a towel and sauntered toward the main house of the sprawling Malibu mansion. “Should
I have her assistant bring you something to drink?”
Amber frowned at the mention of Lucius. She’d managed to be left alone for once on her mother’s patio, making it into the house unobserved by the army of attendants and servants her mom kept on staff for god knows what reason.
On second thought, Amber knew the reason. The constant attention her mother needed as a former beauty queen, second rate actress and trophy wife that she didn’t get from her cold, absentee husband. In particular, Amber hated dealing with Katherine’s personal assistant. The man’s frequency drove her nuts. It seemed to slither like a snake into her brain, no matter how much she deflected it. While she could decipher other people’s equations and frequencies easily, the too-good-looking, tall, muscled blonde made her uneasy. His ice blue gaze seemed to read her like a book. His energy pulsed into the ultra-violet and even x-ray range, the intensity made her shudder when he came near. While most people never seemed to notice her, he was always too intimate, trying to get too close at least in her head. She always left his company drained, but she couldn’t explain it.
“No, thanks. I’m fine for
now. If I need anything, I will give Consuela a shout.”
“Okay, great! See you
later Amber!”
“You too.” Amber picked up her pad of paper, shaking off thoughts of Lucius and her mother…for now. She looked around the patio and pool deck of her mother’s mansion. The water gleamed like a turquoise stone in the sunshine. Meanwhile, lilacs, daffodils and tulips bloomed in the careful tended gardens. The California sun beat down on Amber’s long legs. She wriggled her toes against the plush cushion of the lounge chair as she settled back against it. The sprawling complex set against the Malibu hills sparkled in the sunshine. Amber could see the waves from the ocean in the distance below.
Too
bad I just don’t belong here. Being around Kathrine…oh wait…mom, for a few
hours drives me crazy enough. Can’t imagine what living here would do.
She shook her head and went back to what she knew, her familiar numbers. Immersing herself in them, deciphering her own codes, she lost all track of time. Then her hair stood up on the back of her neck as her senses began to thrum.
7
x 1015 hZ—Great, he’s coming.
She set her notebook aside and adjusted her sunglasses. He was just barely coming out of the main house, closing the ornate glass French doors behind him. Already, he was smiling at her. She gritted her teeth calculating his equation and deflecting it.
“Well hello, Miss Sunshine. How was your trip from Seoul last night?” He asked placing his hands on his hips as he stared down at her.
“Long.” She answered,
looking down at her notebook, numbers sprawled across the page. They almost
seemed to be screaming at her in time with his pulses, run!
“I’ll bet,” he replied,
pink lips curling up in a smooth smile. He crouched down in front of her, muscled
thighs straining the seams of his khaki pants as he braced his large hands
against them. His piercing eyes were concealed by mirrored sunglasses. “Your
mother is on her way. Can I get you…anything.”
“I’m fine, thank you,
Lucius. I don’t want to ruin my lunch with Mommy Dearest,” she replied, closing
her notebook and sticking her pen back into her purse. She tugged her linen
skirt down and swung her legs off the lounge chair to the opposite side of
where he now rose back to his full height of six-foot-six.
His rhythmic energy still
pulsed at her, making her grit her teeth, but somehow having a physical object
between them made her feel better. He grinned wider and smoothed the collar on
his sky-blue polo shirt, before placing his hands on his narrow hips. “They’re
setting up lunch for you in the rose garden.”
“Thank you,” she replied, holding her notebook and purse in front of her as she waited for him to lead the way.
****
The ice crinkled and cracked in Katherine’s high ball glass as she raised it to her lips. Her dark lipstick left a red smear against the rim, far too reminiscent of menstrual blood for Amber’s taste. She pushed her plate away, thinking about how erratic her mother’s energy always was, at least until she decided she wanted to discuss something with her. Then she narrowed in like a laser beam, purple-blue waves going for the jugular.
Katherine lowered her large jeweled sunglasses, large blue eyes raking over her. Amber’s spine stiffened as she toyed with her glass.
Here it comes, she thought. She’s been waaaay too quiet anyway.
“I thought I told you
should wear a little more make-up.’ Kathrine said. Amber gritted her teeth at
the catch in her mother’s voice. “Really, Amber? Can’t you just try—A little? I
know you’re plain. But you could put in some effort. How do you expect to ever
catch a man? You’re not getting any younger you know…” Her mother continued to
drone, waving with her heavily spiked Arnold palmer.
Amber focused on the high
ball in her mother’s hands. The glass hummed back at her. She could see Lucius
smirk out of the corner of her eye from where he sat a few feet away typing on
his laptop.
No
use arguing with the trophy wife/beauty queen that maybe some things were more
important than looks. Oh and the fact that I just flew in across the Pacific
Rim after stealing new weapons defense technology software from China. That wouldn’t
make a difference to her either. She thinks I am marketing manager for a computer
company. She drew a deep sigh, the fine fabric of her skirt shifting
beneath her fingers as she clutched at her thighs. The ice in the glass
continued to crackle, the crystal waivered in the sunshine as Amber did her
best to drown out her mother’s cruel words. She felt her own body tense and hum
back in response to the vibrations in the air.
With a loud snap, the
crystal cracked, sending vodka spiked lemonade and tea all over Katherine’s
expensive kelly-green silk jumper.
“Good heavens!” she
shrieked, tossing the remnants to the side and eyeing her hand for signs of
damage. Amber gaped as her mother jumped to her feet, shaking and wiping off
the liquid.
“Are you alright,
Kathrine?” Lucius exclaimed, bounding across the patio and taking her by the
arm. He stood next to Katherine, but gazed at Amber, his lips in a hard line as
he looked her over.
“I’m fine, I’ll change in
a few minutes. We were almost done with lunch anyway.” She snapped fingers and
pointed a blood-red nail at the mess. “Have Consuela make me another, and after
I change, run this,” she tugged at her collar. “To the cleaners.”
“Sure thing, Kathrine.”
He glanced one more time at Amber then headed into the house, pulling his cell
phone out of his pocket.
“Where were we?” Kathrine
asked, smoothing her bun of glossy blonde hair as she settled into a different
plush white patio chair. “That was strange. I supposed that’s what comes from
ordering cheap crystal. I will have to speak to Consuela about that. There must
have been a crack. Anyway, how long are you going to be in town? Perhaps I can
schedule you with my stylist, Shelly.”
“Only today, mother,”
Amber replied, she watched as two of her mother’s staff came out and began
cleaning up the mess. The smell of lemonade and tea died quickly, but the vodka
lingered in the air. Lucius brought Katherine a refreshed high-ball then
resumed his seat at his laptop.
“So you could go this
afternoon then,” Katherine bartered, raising the glass to her lips as she
stared Amber down.
“Actually no,” Amber
replied, sitting up straighter. Katherine frowned, running her fingers over her
forehead as if to smooth the two creases that would have appeared if not for
her regular Botox treatments.
“Why not?” she asked,
lips pursed as she lowered her voice to almost a growl.
“Father has set up an appointment for me with Dr. Meredith,” Amber replied, keeping her voice steady. “He said he’s worried that the VA isn’t giving me the best care. He wants her to evaluate me.”
Kathrine took a large
gulp, draining almost half the glass. The diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist
threw fiery sparkles as her mother’s hand shook. She saw her mother mouth the
name Meridith then bitch. She looked away then back again,
frown erased as if it had never been, frequency shifted once more. Amber’s skin
crawled.
“I suppose that’s only fair,”
her voice dripped with honey, but her brain pulsed with menace. “She’s the most
brilliant doctor in his department. And it’s his fault entirely. He never
should have let you to join the military. Then you wouldn’t have gotten sick
and ended up disabled.”
Amber shrugged, taking a
sip from her own glass, looking away. She
says that like I’m a disgrace, something to be ashamed of. Well, in her eyes I
am. I had the ill manners to be born not as pretty as she was. I deprived her
of her mini-me. Someone to shop with and continue on her legacy of marrying
well…if you consider my father a good choice.
“Where are you off to next for your computer stuff?” Amber refrained from rolling her eyes. At least she’s trying to show interest.
“Paris. I have a technical conference there in a few days.” Amber replied. In her head she added, multiple companies are having a technical conference. I’ll be there seeing what’s worth taking.
“Oh…that’s fantastic. Maybe you’ll have a chance to do a little shopping while you’re there. I can have my personal shopper make some recommendations.”
“Why not?” Amber said, shrugging.
“Why do you always have to be so difficult, Amber?” Her mother asked, rising to her feet.
“I don’t know, mother,” she replied, taking that as her cue she was being dismissed. She gathered her things. “Have her send it to me in an email. If I have time, I’ll check it out. I’m going for work though, not to mess around.”
“I will,” Kathrine plastered on a smile again as she tossed back the rest of her drink. Amber grimaced as Katherine swayed in her heels, wobbling back into the house and slamming the door behind her.
“What?” she snapped at Lucius, who still sat in his chair a few feet away; tanned muscled arms behind his head as he smirked.
“Not a thing, Amber. So sad that you’re not in town for very long. It’s always fun to watch you and Katherine spar.”
“Glad I could entertain you,” she replied as she walked away, heat rising in her cheeks. She resisted the urge to slap the smug look off his face.
Just a note, as her book is due to be released 6/14, I did my best to avoid spoilers in this review. After her book has been out for a while I will go back and write a little more in-depth on some topics I needed to skip due to spoilers
Right off the bat I have a confession to make. Young adult
is not my usual genre to read. I have never read Harry Potter, Twilight, or Hunger
Games. I know, I can hear the gnashing of teeth and the clicking of buttons as
people unfollow me. It is just not my thing.
So what the hell? Some of you may be asking. Why are you reading/reviewing Ryen Lesli’s (AKA, The Witches’)River then?
To be frank, I was intrigued by her premise. Listening to
her interviews and her description of what she wrote and why she wrote it made
me decide I would give it a whirl. Now it wasn’t the fact that she said that
River came to her in a dream (while that is pretty cool too, and her story
about her dream is fascinating. Check out her interview if you are curious.)
But hey, there’s a lot of authors out there that have had books and characters
inspired by dreams, myself included. Tales inspired by dreams are literally as
old as humanity. Some of the most famous pieces of literature, The Quran, the
Bible, The Divine Comedy, so on and so forth were inspired by dreams.
So, what made me want to jump out of genre and pick up
something that I would NOT normally read? It was the promise of
something—different. Ryen describes herself as raising three teenage heathens,
and she refused to backdown on the language and style of her story. Multiple
agents refused the book due to her use of swear words and themes that were
deemed inappropriate for a Young Adult audience.
I get it, I really do. Literary Agents are looking at the market. They want something that they think will sell. I am a writer, and I check out #MSWL. I see some of the posts. Everyone is looking for the next [INSERT CURRENT POPULAR BOOK HERE]. They have to; they are out to make money. They don’t work for free. And let’s be honest. People dream of being the next J.K. Rowling. The next Stephen King. They don’t dream of having their books pulped after three months because no one bought it.
But like other authors, when I am querying, the question
that stumps me/irritates me is:
What book is your book like? Who is your writing like?
It can’t be anyone too famous or too popular. It can’t be
anyone too obscure. You also sometimes feel like, wait, I thought I was
supposed to be writing something different, right? It feels like a trick
question.
Really; what they want to know is, who is the market for
this book.
Reading Ryen Leslie’s River.
I can answer that. Very easily.
As I sat on my couch, computer in my lap, scrolling through
the pages, I turned to my husband and said,
“HOLY S—T, Ray! I’m in my niece’s head!
Hell, I’m in MY head when I was 15.”
Yes, there I was. Back in those angsty, awkward,
hormone-fueled, high-drama teenage years.
Whoa Nellie! Kind of a scary place to be. More frightening
than some of the horror that I like to write.
Everything was so important. The world was going to end
every single week. Ryen’s characters talk and act like real teenagers. Not like
adults think that teens should act. No. These kids swear. They obsess about
their bodies. They wonder about their sexuality, both their own and others.
There’s no filter or political correctness. They haven’t learned that yet.
They’re still figuring that out, and growing. And that’s okay.
Now, add in the fact that though her mother has been raising
her as a human for the last twelve years, she’s actually a Fair, a sort of
Fairy Princess with supernatural powers. Now you have a recipe for geeking-out.
Yes, this is the kind of book my teenage self would have
eaten up like a hot fudge sundae. My D&D playing, fencing, Dragon Lance-Reading,
drama club-participating, math team mega-nerd would have been all over this.
Oh, my friends and I would have shared this book amongst ourselves at school.
We would have made costumes, assigned ourselves characters and probably even
done re-enactments.
Now before you think I am relegating her book the realm of
nerds only, that is not the case. In 1994 (my sophomore year of high school)
Interview with the Vampire was released as a movie. This was all the rage in
high school. Though she published it in the 1970’s it became “the” book that
was passed around school in the two years leading up two the movie actually
being released (Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise AND Antonio Banderas, in one movie—yeah
raging hormones indeed). It was not really the kind of book my mom thought was
appropriate for me to read. Didn’t stop me, barely slowed me down. My more
popular (and more worldly) neighbor made sure I got a copy of not only that,
but A. N. Roquelaure’s (Anne Rice’s erotica pen name) Sleeping Beauty series.
Admittedly, I liked Interview with
the Vampire, but I was a little too immature for the rest. They didn’t
corrupt me, like some might worry. I frankly was just too naïve/innocent to
connect with the material at that stage in my development. I just didn’t get
it, so it was more like, shrug, what’s
the big deal?
But back to Ryen’s book. This is the kind of book that
speaks to a lot of teens that imagine or wish they were something else. The
market for this book is definitely the twelve to 25-year-old crowd. The writing
style and language doesn’t really work for an older crowd, but really speaks to
this generation. This is how they talk, whether we want to acknowledge that or
not.
Speaking of talking, I sense the clutching of pearls at “the
swear words.”
Oh dear. I realize that it is not very refined, and yes, we
should be encouraging kids to speak to each other respectfully. On the other
hand, what I really enjoyed about her writing style is, this is
how kids talk to each other. I think back to how my cousins and I talked to
each other growing up and the things I thought in my head. We purposefully
thought up the most horrible, nasty, terrible things we could say to each
other. And we reveled in it. Don’t even get me started on the shade I threw at
my mother. I don’t have kids of my own, but I volunteer at high schools and
junior high. The kids feel free to say things around me that they wouldn’t say
around other adults. Their parents would be appalled.
Side note, loved River
constantly referring to her mother as “the f–king Queen.” Would also love to
have been in Beth’s head and seen some of the shade mom is throwing back at her
rebellious little witch.
Quite frankly, Ryen’s writing is tame in comparison to some
of the things I said a teen. And I was a “good” kid, and honor student. I have
a newsflash for some parents out there. If you think that your kids are not
talking to each other like this, I have bad news for you. But then, nothing I
will say will change your mind. You will probably also not believe me when I
show you the statistics that they are also sexting each other, contemplating
drugs, sexuality, self-harm, suicide, and other “adult” issues. It’s always
someone else’s kid that’s doing these things, not your own, right?
Whether you believe me or not, now that I have established
the audience for this book and the general plot for this book, time to delve
into the characters and themes.
Ryen does a great job in the first three chapters of
establishing River as an intriguing character and setting a fast pace. There’s
no way that you’re putting this down until you find out why River and her
mother have to run from Wicked, the creepy boy at school dating her friend
Skye.
Mother vs Daughter
“You will thwart me at every step, but when it comes to a
struggle between mother and daughter my little one, remember…mothers have the
advantage of knowing not only how and why they behave, but how daughters behave
as they do. For mothers were all daughters once, but daughters take their time
to learn to be mothers…”
Margarethe to Iris in Confessions of an Ugly Step Sister, Gregory McGuire
I have argued this before in one of my other reviews. Disney
claims that Beauty and the Beast is a “Tale as Old as Time.” I would argue
there’s an older tale. Its archetype permeates our culture and literature. It’s
the push and pull between mothers and daughters. The expectations that are
placed on one another, and often, the failures to live up to these expectations.
The tales of natural love, hate, and resentment, that builds; especially in the
teenage years can be seen repeating through all cultures.
On one side you have the mother, making choices and
sacrifices, expecting love and gratitude in return. On the other side you have
the daughter, attempting to learn and grow. At times these choices run counter
to this growth. Ryen demonstrates this beautifully between headstrong River and
her mother Beth.
Beth has been hiding River in the human world to keep her
safe. She is a queen, subjugated to living with creatures she considers beneath
her. She is making sacrifices to keep her daughter, her legacy and her kingdom,
safe. She expects gratitude and compliance for this when they finally return to
the beautiful world of the Fairs. Ryen’s description of Beth made me think of
Arthur’s mother from Mary Stewart’s Arthurian Saga. Beth is a Queen first, and
a mother second. She will do everything in her power to protect her daughter
and her legacy, but she is not the cozy, touchy-feely, “let’s-share-our-feelings
Tampax commercial” mom. She has a kingdom to run on her own and a daughter to
keep safe.
“Why didn’t we just come back here?” she asked.
Her mom made an impatient noise, waving her hand. “Your father had been
murdered by Obsidian and his mate, Angel. It tore our world apart, leaving us
undefended. The power he and Angel have? River, it is unforgiving. I did what I
had to, to ensure the throne stayed pure and yet, there you sit, acting as if I
did this to be mean to you.”
While River has sensed her whole life that something was
wrong, she’s not ready for this dramatic shift. Everything changes, even her
physical appearance.
What. The. Fuck? Um, right, ohkay…well…her skin was uh… gold. Like
gold, gold. Holy shit, her skin was gold! It wasn’t like, crazy gold but she
was definitely…gold. There was a mesmerizing luminous sheen to it. The colors
so bright, she looked photoshopped or—wait a second—why did her lips look like
that? She peered closer, opening her mouth, stretching it out a couple of
times.
Her mother erases her old life once again, “to keep her
safe.” Her mother sweeps her away from modern day Georgia, with cell phones and
internet. They are suddenly in the Ebb, located on the California coast, the
world of the Fair that sits in parallel with the human world. The best way to
describe it would be they live almost like they’re Amish, growing things from
the earth on farms, but also using their natural magic. She’s finding out that
so much information has been withheld, manipulated and twisted in the name of
protecting her, she is lost. A full-grown adult with mature rationalizing
capabilities would be hard pressed to cope. Hand this to a hormonal, immature
teen, yeah—not going to go over well. Ryen does a good job of creating a
relatable character struggling with this new world, which should be the world
of dreams, but it is hard for teenage River to come to grips.
Society wants us to pretend like mothers and daughters have
this beautiful, natural, perfect bond. Movies, commercials, greeting cards surround
us. Filled with loving mothers and daughters shopping, drinking coffee together
and getting matching manis and pedis. This is what we as women get shoved down
our throats. Oh no, it can be more like two cats squaring off in an alley with
their hackles raised; especially during the teenage years. There was a reason
Amy Tan’s the Joy Luck Club
was so popular. It portrayed the rift that can occur between the desires of
mothers and daughters and the expectations they set for one another.
She looked at her mom, really looked at her. “My life has been nothing
but lies! I don’t know how I am supposed to feel or—or how I shouldn’t!” she
snapped. “Talk about me being selfish—poor Beth, she was homesick and couldn’t
worship her Goddess out in the open! Boofuckin’-hoo.” River felt satisfaction
when her mom’s face turned red with shocked outrage. “Well, thanks for your uh,
sacrifices. It must suck to be a mother. Now, lemme explain this so my Queen
understands it. This is where you get up and take your unwanted ass back to the
Castle, ‘cause I got all this,” River assured her, waving her hand.
The struggle between angsty River and as I mentioned before,
“the F—king Queen,” made me chuckle, over and over. I may have to send a copy of
this book to my sister just so she can laugh. You can practically cut the
tension between these two as mom and daughter square off. Obviously, we’re
seeing this all from River’s perspective, but you can easily picture what is
going through Queen Mum’s head through Ryen’s showing of emotions. You can tell
the Fairy Queen is longing to magically b—-h-slap her lippy princess.
River’s mouth fell open. “Mom—”
“You will address me as the Queen,” she interrupted River, her
expression cold.
In the loud silence of the car, River’s face turned bright red. “How
about the fuckin’ Queen?” she wanted to snarl, but she somehow kept her mouth
shut. God, she hated her mother.
I can’t wait to see how this plays out as River has to find
her way through life not only as an adult, but an eventual ruler. How will she
live up to, or fail to meet her mother’s expectations? What clashes, or mending,
in their relationship will occur as River develops?
Freewill Warriors vs. the Fairs
“To be Chaste or Be Chased”
This is one of my favorite taglines from the book Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked.
It speaks a lot to the cultural shift we are seeing in society today as both
men and women struggle to find their own voices and sexuality. No one can deny
that there has been a dramatic revolution over the past century, and it is
accelerating in recent years. Behaviors and activities that were normalized and
accepted ten years ago are being recognized as inappropriate. The roles of men
and women are being redefined in our society, and it will have an impact on
every aspect of our lives.
Meanwhile we have the teen years of exploration and
development. The awkward and frustrating years where we are growing changing
and trying to develop an identity separate from our parents. We are defining
what we want and what we need sexually. Unfortunately, the mixed messages we
get from society, the media, our parents and our friends can shape this
development, for better or worse.
We think we outgrow this as adults, leave it behind, like we
do fairy tales, but in reality, we do not. The hang-ups and insecurities we had
as teens can linger long into adulthood. They haunt us as we grow, running
through our relationships and lives like threads in a tapestry. Sometimes,
binding it together. At others, ruining the picture.
What will we do about our desires/sexuality? For us, we have
free will. Our desires are determined by hormones, attraction, upbringing,
culture, etc. In the River’s new world, her mate is pre-destined. Even though
she may have desires for someone else, her fate is set. Ryen sets up four very
compelling characters and their reactions to their destined mates, drawing
unique parallels to ourselves:
Meekly accept it (Dawn)
Resent it and seethe over it (Ruby)
Both fear and want it (Scarlet)
Fight and flee from it (River)
The irony is that even though we have free will, due to our
upbringing, cultural expectations about sex and sexuality, attachment style,
etc., we can have these same reactions to becoming intimate. These reactions
can both bring a relationship closer, or tear it apart. Read any contemporary
romance novel, and you will see some aspect of the above in the plot.
To be honest, I am not really into the “Will they/won’t
they” kind of romance. But in this case, once again, it works. Why? Because they’re teenagers.
I remember those years of the high drama, back and forth
romances between my friends where it was break-up and make-up daily.
In Ryen’s story, unlike adult romances where you just want
to scream at the characters to get over it, I can understand the back and forth
and the miscommunications due to lack of maturity. It makes sense in the
context of her story and makes the characters believable and relatable.
*Though I have to
admit I was still screaming at them, “Just get over it and screw already!
Dammit, Ryen you’re a tease!!!!”
Free Will
Adding to the complexity of this issue is that River has
tasted free will, something most of her kind cannot comprehend. She was raised
in the “Outside,” what the Fair refer to as the Human world. She was allowed to
flirt and tease boys with the only consequence being hurt feelings or even a
broken heart. The laws of this new world are more binding. The bitterness over
not being able to choose who she wants adds additional conflict to the story
and drives a wedge between herself and her destined mate, Wolf (also known as
Luca). A boy who she chose long ago and then was forced to forget due to her
mother’s need to hide her. Wolf now struggles to forgive her for forgetting him
(even though she had no choice), but he also grapples with the guilt of not
having watched over her like he promised. These two lovers will battle with
themselves and each other to see if they can make their destiny work.
“The Warriors here will not be like the human boys on the
Outside.”
“Well, I can see that,” River said, feeling defensive.
“Can you? A human boy has a certain freedom. I know that out there, you
are allowed to be together, that you kiss and touch and nothing is thought of
it. However, it is different here. A Warrior does not have that freedom. You
need to know, River, that we mate for life. Once a claim is made on you, or you
claim another, that is it. The claim is binding. Cat is tender-hearted and
favors you. Be gentle, River. You could hurt him easily.”
Free will and River’s struggle within the new confines of
her magical world is a deep theme of this book. There are many more instances
to draw on, but I will allow the reader to find and ponder these for
themselves.
The Antagonists
I can’t finish this review without bringing the antagonists
into it. Ryen paints a chilling picture of some truly creepy antagonists. We
meet twins, Wicked and Ghost, at the very beginning, who force a reaction from
River that shatters the carefully built illusions her mother has created to
keep her safe. Out to capture River, Beth and River flee back to the safety of
the “Ebb,” their home.
She introduces Angel, their mother, a short time later. By
the end of the short scene, there is no doubt in the reader’s mind that there
is something seriously wrong with this character. We don’t hear much about
these characters again until the very end of the book. At the risk of spoilers,
and the fact that I want those who read Ryen’s book to experience the intense
scene between River and Angel for themselves I will defer from describing it
much. I will say that Ryen sets up the suspense and the conflict between this
wicked woman-creature and River, leaving the reader thinking, WTF?
*For me this was like
the classic horror scene where you’re watching the character, getting ready to
open the closet door where something nasty is waiting. You’re shaking your head
saying, “Don’t do it—you’ll be sorry. But they do it anyway.”
My one criticism would be that I would loved to have had
more scenes showing these antagonists’ maneuverings throughout the story. She’s
created fascinating, complex, and ambiguous villains. Their ultimate motives
are up for grabs, so it would have been great to have more of them. But I can
see where Ryen was starting to become constrained by length, and possibly these
ended up on the chopping block, sacrificed to the editing gods.
Once again, this was not my normal genre of reading, but this was a fun and somewhat reflective trip back in time to my own awkward teenage years. It sparked many an interesting conversation between me and my husband about being a teenager and what we thought was important, compared to now. I think that Ryen’s story and writing style will resonate with both young adults and even some parents who are struggling to relate to their teens.
Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for my next review and more blog posts about my adventures in Alaska and Engineering.
I see a lot of people ask what they do to get over writer’s block. for me, I do one of a few things. I read a book and write a review. Or I write a piece of what I might like to call fan fiction. I have met so many talented and wonderful authors through social media that push my writing in different directions it is hard not to be inspired.
This particular snippet was inspired by one of my favorite authors/blogs I follow on Twitter, Rowena Tisdale.
Her sultry and steamy writing, along with her no-nonsense female characters are highly inspiring. It is refreshing to read about women who truly want sex and are not shy about it. It got me to really think back to my early twenties where for lots of really messed-up reasons (which I discuss in other blogs) I was less than popular with the guys and pretty shy and repressed. It took me a long time to find my confidence. After reading her blogs, I couldn’t help but ask myself, what if?
What if, in my early years as a technician/engineer my boss/mentor had been a confident woman leader? How would that have changed my trajectory?
Obviously, I cannot change the past. But I can write a little fantasy about what I would have liked it to look like. Now that I am 40, and infinitely more confident than I was at 24 it’s fun to indulge. Maybe it will inspire some of the other 20-somethings, struggling to find their voice and sexuality in a world sending mixed messages about what women should want and need.
Downtown Seattle, setting for this segment
Danyjella ran a
comb through her damp auburn hair while she waited for the email to connect to
the server.
I’ll just fire off one more email, then I’ll
head to the reception upstairs. She thought, as she applied mascara to her
long red eyelashes, then tapped blush on her pale cheeks in the mirror next to
the desk.
The IM window
flashed on her laptop.
RO: What the HELL are you still
doing working?
DANY: I’m sending you that report on
the plc and relay tests you requested
RO: GURL REALLY? It can wait until
Mon
DANY: Then YTF did you text me
asking if it was ready to go????
RO: Just wanted to know when it
would be ready
DANY: What the HELL are you still
doing working? You’re 3 hours ahead.
RO: I’m the boss, wanted to stalk
you and make sure you were done for the day, off scoring with hot men
DANY: HAHA! Remember who you’re
talking to?
RO: I do, so are you off to have
some fun?
DANY: I am. Heading to the bar for the reception I&M is throwing for the crew tonight.
RO: Great, BTW, sorry to cut into
your weekend, but the owner wants have dinner to go over progress Sunday night
DANY: OK
RO: What are you going to wear?
Danyjella paused,
looking down at her plain khaki pants and crimson tank top. It was the nicest
thing she had at the moment. The matching cardigan she planned on wearing over
the top of it was draped over the back of the chair. She looked out of the
window as Elliot Bay faded from silver into navy and the lights came on across
the way in West Seattle. She wondered where the rest of her stuff was. Somewhere
between Anchorage and Seattle in a shipping container. She sighed and then gave
a wry smile. She loved Rowena’s sense of style. The chic, vivacious woman who’d
hired her as field engineer and project lead for the new office here in Seattle
could get every head in the room to turn just by raising a perfectly arched
eyebrow and tapping immaculately manicured nails against a crystal wine stem. Danyjella
always wondered what that was like.
RO: Well???
DANY: I don’t know. Haven’t had
much time to go shopping since I moved down here. My new boss is a total slave
driver 😛
RO: My assistant is going to make
an appointment for you with the personal shopper at the downtown Nordstrom’s in
Seattle tomorrow. Make-up after! Be there as soon as they open.
DANY: Yes mummy. Make sure the
appointment is early. The building manager is giving me a personal tour of the
condos here tomorrow afternoon. I may put in an offer.
RO: EXCELLENT! I’ll be in town next
weekend. Sending you the file Monday for a software company in Redmond I need
to you review. Setting up a lunch meeting for you to head over there next week
and talk with their VP. We may want to acquire them.
DANY: Sounds good. Make it for later
in the week, Friday maybe. We’re testing the fire systems here Monday and
Tuesday. I need to be here for that. It’s going to be hectic.
RO: When is the security system
test?
DANY: Depends on how the F&G
tests go. Probably not until next week. Want to integrate the generator
controls first. I need to get moving. I can already feel the guys racking up
the bar tab upstairs.
RO: You go gurl. Thanks again.
You’re doing a fantastic job. Have a great weekend.
DANY: You too woman
Danyjella sent the
email off to Rowena, then she tugged her cardigan over her tank top and slid
her feet into her leather sandals. She wriggled her pink painted toes, feet
grateful to be free of the steel toed boots after such a long hot day. She
stretched and looked around the neatly furnished corporate apartment.
I love how close to downtown and the Lightrail
this place is. I hope they can get me a good deal. She thought as she went
into the bathroom to blow-dry her fine, shoulder-length auburn hair. She headed
to the outdoor mezzanine bar and restaurant that was part of the new condo
resort complex in downtown Seattle.
“Hey it’s Little Dipper Dany!” OT shouted as the elevator door slid open, revealing the Friday night party to already be in full swing. “Whata’ ya’ have?” The compact Irishman man asked. She smiled as she approached the group. OT barely came to her nose, but insisted on calling her “Little.” She wondered what he’d call her if she wore heels. At 5’9 she wasn’t gigantic, but tall enough for a girl.
“White wine and
sparkling water. It was a hot day today.” Danyjella replied as the bartender
began to pour.
“No shit it was.
I’ll be glad when they get the AC fully functional in that other building.” OT
replied. There were several comments of agreement from the rest of the commissioning
crew.
“Should be done by
Monday. They’re working on it this weekend. We’re going to test the HVAC with
the fire and gas systems on Tuesday.” Danyjella said, taking a sip of her
drink. The scantily clad waitresses brought out plates of appetizers for the
group, while Danyjella leaned against the bar, listening to the music play over
the speakers. Her mind wandered as she watched her guys hit on the girls.
Really, Jeff? You’re married. Oh yeah, I
forgot. “Crew policy” If its another zip code, it doesn’t count. She shook
her head as her stomach knotted. Shrugging her shoulders, she took a zip of her
white wine spritzer. She really would enjoy something a little stronger, but
damn, it had been hot today. Had Seattle been this brutally hot in the summers
when she went to college? She couldn’t remember. She put a hand against the bar
and took another sip, counting down the time until she could go back up to her
room, peel off her clothes and climb into the giant tub in the bathroom and
soak away all the aches from this week. Too bad the pool was closed for repairs.
What a rotten time of year to be out of service.
“Enjoying the
party?” A husky voice said behind her. She nearly choked on her drink as she
turned around to see a wall of sky-blue buttoned-down shirt.
“Uh—yes thank you, Mr. Erikson.” She replied, recovering herself as she gazed up into the site foreman’s vivid sapphire eyes. “It was very nice of I&M to put this on for the guys, I know they’re enjoying it.” Danyjella said, motioning to her crew of technicians, scattered around the bar, drinking, playing pool and shuffle board, talking up some of the local girls.
“You can call me Isaak.
We’ve only been working together all week,” he said, running a hand through his
thick, golden-brown hair. “What about you? You looked rather bored.” He said,
eyes crinkling as his smooth pink lips curled up in a grin.
“It’s fine. Just a
little tired I suppose. It’s been a long week,” she replied, rubbing her
shoulder. She looked down, thinking of Rowena and her penchant for hot guys in
jeans, as she took in his well-fitting blue jeans and black leather cowboy
boots.
“Hey, wait a sec,”
she said, cocking her head to the side. “The email said the bar has a strict
‘no jeans’ policy.” She pointed down to her khaki pants then his jeans.
His grin got
wider, and she felt her heart flutter as his eyes traveled up and down her
body, lingering on her breasts in a way that made her knees turn to water.
“Well, I suppose they make a special exception for me.”
“Why is that?” she
asked.
He shrugged, taking another drink of his beer. “I don’t know. Probably because I own half the building. I’m the I of I&M Enterprise.”
“Oh,” was Danyjella’s
only inarticulate reply. Why the fuck
didn’t Ro mention that, I thought he was just the site foreman. “I—I
suppose that makes sense then.” She said, shrugging her shoulders, wishing she
could think up something else to say.
He frowned, then
looked like he was about to say something else as a gorgeous brunette came up
alongside him, putting a flawlessly manicured hand on his forearm. The metal of
her gold choker gleamed against her glowing olive skin. She simpered at
Danyjella, then squeezed Isaak’s bicep.
Of course, he’d be taken. Didn’t see a ring.
But what the hell do I care? Not like guys like that are interested in me
anyway.
“I heard you’re
interested in buying into a unit in the new building,” He said, taking a sip of
his beer.
“Yes, I just moved
back down here from Alaska. The company’s putting me up here temporarily while
I house hunt, but I really like the location and the amenities. You’ve built a
fantastic property.”
“Have you tried
the pool yet?” he asked, the woman standing next to him frowned and sighed,
trying to get his attention.
“Uh, no. I
understand the pool is closed right now. Repairs or something,” Danyjella
replied, heat rising to her cheeks as he continued to stare.
“The main pool is,
but I can give you access to the penthouse pool. Here,” he pulled a business
card from his wallet and grabbed a pen from the bar. He scribbled some numbers
on it. “This is the floor number, and the code to get in. Don’t worry about
bringing a towel, they have everything you need at the spa. Its open 24/7.” The
brunette squeezed his arm again and raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “If
you’ll pardon me. Please, enjoy the party.”
“Thanks, I—will,”
she said, but he had already turned away.
That was really kind of him, she thought
to herself, putting the card into her back pocket. She finished the rest of her
white wine spritzer. Her heart sank as she watched him move through the crowd
gorgeous brunette clinging to his side. He’d been flirty and friendly all week
as they worked. Not that she thought she really had a shot with a guy like him,
even when she thought he was the construction manager/site foreman. Now that
she realized he was the VP of the company she knew he was totally out of her
league. Guys like that only went for really pretty girls, not Plain Janes like
her. She sighed. Get over it. She
told herself
“Care for
another?” the bartender asked, flashing a smile.
“No thanks, maybe
just sparkling water and lime.” She replied as he refilled her. She wandered
around the room, chatting up with the crew and having a few appetizers as the
bar filled up with regular patrons. She noticed Isaak sitting in the lounge
section in the back, the lovely brunette huddled close beside him. Meanwhile,
across the table, a dark-haired man in a neatly cut navy blue suit sat
opposite. Her heart fluttered as his gaze seemed to go right through her. She
suddenly wished she’d had something better to wear than this plain tank top and
cardigan as his sapphire eyes raked over her. Eyes that were identical in color to Isaak’s, I wonder if they’re
related, she thought. He tipped his glass slightly in her direction. The
voluptuous platinum blonde at his side smiled broadly, coral pink lips
glittering under the now dimmed lights. Her eyes were dark and luminous as she
looked Danyjella over as well, the diamonds at her throat winking as she turned
her head and whispered in the man’s ear.
Danyjella froze
and nodded in return, not really sure of the protocol she found herself looking
around. Are they really looking at me
like that?
“Hey, Little Dipper,”
OT interrupted, “Bunch of us are going boating tomorrow on Lake Washington,
wanna’ come?”
“Sorry OT, can’t.
I’ve got to run some errands for the boss tomorrow,” she replied. “But keep me
in mind for next weekend perhaps.” When she looked back, her breath came even
faster as the man in the corner continued to stare. He put his glass to his
lips, never taking his eyes off of her. Isaak looked up and frowned when he saw
her standing there. He said something to the man in the corner that only made
him smile wider. He looked away and went back to talking with Isaak. Meanwhile
the blonde flipped her hair over her shoulder, dark eyes raising the heat in
Danyjella’s cheeks. Then she turned her attention back to the conversation.
Danyjella shook
her head, spell broken. What the hell is
wrong with me? I need to just get a grip. They were probably staring at someone
behind me. She downed the rest of her drink and placed an order at the bar
for some food to be sent to her room later from one of the restaurants
downstairs. She made a beeline back to her room to change for the pool.
Seattle waterfront in Summertime
Wow, I could get used to this, Danyjella
thought as she rested her chin on her arms, staring at the twinkling Seattle
lights. The infinity pool glowed blue as she looked out from the 50th
floor over Elliott Bay, Lake Union, and West Seattle. She could see the lights
from the stadiums to the south. It looked like a Mariners game had just gotten
out. Ahh, but I would be using the
“regular pool” not this one. I’ll have to make sure to tell Isaak thank you.
“Enjoying the
view?” A smooth voice asked from the pool deck behind her. She jerked away from
the edge, bobbing in the water and sputtering as she came back up. “Whoa, don’t
drown on me,” the dark-haired man from the bar said with a chuckle as he
crouched down by the edge. “Though, I’ll admit, I’d love to revive you.”
“The view is
beautiful,” she replied, treading water as she moved toward the shallow end.
Her eyes searched the patio area to see that they were indeed alone.
“Sorry to startle
you, Miss Napier,” he said, taking a seat in one of the plush blue lounge
chairs.
“I’m fine,” she
replied. “Pardon me, but who are you?”
His navy sports
coat from earlier was gone. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar,
sleeves rolled up “Forgive me, Rayne, Rayne Mattson,” he said, leaning back in
the lounge chair and putting his muscled arms behind his head. He kicked his
patent leather-clad feet up and looked down at her in the water through thick
inky eyelashes.
“Ah yes,” Danyjella
replied. “We’re supposed to have dinner Sunday night and go over the progress
so far on integrating the controls for the new building into the existing.” She
ran her hands over her wet hair, feeling at a disadvantage, half naked in the
pool while their client watched.
“Yes,” he replied,
“And I’m looking forward to it. I’ve read your plans, I’m sure it will be
brilliant. But enough about work for tonight.” He said, leaning his head back
and looking up at the night sky. The pools retractable roof had been pulled
back, revealing a hazy night sky. “I don’t know about you, but its been a long
week.”
“Uh, yes,” she
replied. That’s why I’m here in the pool.
Trying to relax. Alone.
“I’m sorry,” he
said, sitting upright and leaning toward her, eyes reflecting the blue light of
the pool. “You’re trying to wind down. I’m barging in. This is my favorite
place to relax too.” He pointed to one of the three penthouse suites that
surrounded the pool area. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” she
said, feeling the heat rise despite the cool water. Had he been reading her
mind? He had just as much right to be here, if not more so. Now she felt like
an interloper.
“Are you hungry?”
he asked. “I ordered dinner from downstairs, it should be here any minute. I
know we’re having dinner Sunday, but would you care to join me,” his blue eyes
crinkled, as he lowered his voice and leaned forward again. “A little less
formally?”
Her stomach
rumbled, other than the appetizers at the reception, she hadn’t eaten anything
since lunch. “Sure,” she replied.
“Why don’t I go in
and pick out a nice bottle of wine,” her breath caught as he smiled. “I’ll give
you a little privacy while you get out of the pool and rinse off.” He rose and
went into one of the corner penthouse suites. She climbed out of the pool and
toweled off with the downy blue town she’d left on one of the lounge chairs and
wrapped it around her midsection, tucking it securely around her breasts. She
glanced in the direction he had gone. The lights glowed through the floor to
ceiling windows. He moved gracefully around his apartment, picking out a bottle
of wine. Grabbing her nylon bag of clothes, she walked to the spa area and
rinsed quickly. She put on her simple chemise and shorts that she brought with
her and pulled one of the lush robes hanging in the spa over it. She slipped
her feet back into her sandals and padded out into the warm summer evening.
When she came back
out to the pool area, Rayne had the small table between the lounge chairs set
for two. “The food will be here any minute,” he said, smiling up at her and
handing her a crystal goblet of red wine.
“Thank you,” she replied taking a seat on the lounge chair opposite of him. “So, you’re the ‘M’ then of I&M Enterprises?”
“Yes,” he replied, leaning back in
his chair and sipping his wine.
“How did you and
Isaak meet then?” Her eyes scanned his face. Both men were tall and muscled.
But Isaak was more golden complexioned. This man was dark-haired and olive
skinned, but they both shared vivid blue eyes.
His face
contorted, so fast that if she would have blinked, she would have missed it. An
expression of almost, malevolence. But it faded so fast she thought she must
have been mistaken. A peculiar smile crossed his face. It sent a chill up her
spine in that, it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “We’re related. Isaak is my
half-brother. He’s an excellent architect and construction manager.”
“And what do you
do?”
“My expertise is
in Business Management and Finance,” he took a sip of wine, looking her over
once more. “You have a fascinating resume, Miss Napier. Ex-military, automation
and electrical engineer, medically discharged. No husband or boyfriend?”
She choked on her
sip of wine, “No, I’m afraid not, Mr. Mattson.”
“Rayne, please
call me Rayne. May I call you Danyjella?”
“Sure.” She
replied, dragging her eyes away from his face.
“Danyjella is an
unusual name. Eastern European, I take it?”
“The spelling is.
My family is not.” She replied. “There was a couple from Sarajevo who lived
next door to my parents when my mother was pregnant. The woman’s sister was
named Danyjella. My mom thought that was a pretty name.”
“It is indeed,”
the tone of his voice sent a quiver through her body. They were interrupted by
his cell phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it. He
punched a code into his phone, and the delivery girl entered the pool area
carrying multiple containers tied together with string.
“Thanks for your
order, Mr. Mattson,” the slender girl said with a smile, her pink dyed hair cast
in a purple sheen from the azure lights of the pool as she set the cartons down
on the table.
“Thank you Jen,” he replied. He turned his mesmerizing eyes back on her as he began to serve her Dim Sum from the containers. “You’re an intriguing woman, Danyjella. Tell me a little more about yourself, I’m interested in knowing what makes a woman like you tick.”
Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for more sexy engineering adventures. Who will my alter-ego pick?
After reading Stephen Coghlan’s short story, the Last Ride of the Inferno Train, I was definitely eager to read more of his writing. When Kyanite Press announced the release of his “Dreampunk” novella, Urban Gothic, I added that immediately to my read list. Being a veteran myself, his story about a veteran suffering from PTSD, living a sedated, half-existence, immediately drew me in. I lost my cousin Patrick, to suicide a few years ago due to his poorly treated PTSD. It saddens me that his daughter will never know the fun person I grew up with. I suffer from PTSD as well. Not related to combat, but due to other issues from my military service (sexual assault, domestic abuse). I feel a deep empathy for our combat veterans of all theaters of war. I interned in college for the Vietnam Veterans of American and saw the toll unresolved mental health issues can take on a person’s life. While our society is becoming more and more aware of the criticality of this issue, I am glad to see it becoming more and more mainstream and not just brushed under the rug.
I have included a link to his website and an interview he did related to Urban Gothic below:
An ex-Army medic, Coghlan’s character is living a
court-ordered, drugged half-life as part of his probation after beating a mugger
to death in a fit of rage. He is so sedated that he is completely cut off from
his dreams. He works the night shift at the local hospital, mopping floors. He does
his best to forget the horrors of watching his buddies die in combat.
Then one evening as he’s walking to work, singing a song to
himself to drown out the sounds of the city. He turns down an alley to see
three creatures attacking a young woman. These creatures have the appearance of
crazed clowns (like something out of Stephen King’s IT, or the cult classic Killer Clowns from Outer Space). Part of
him wants to turn away, keep walking. But something inside of him snaps and he
kills her attackers and brings her to the hospital.
When he carries her to the hospital and then brings her into
a room, he realizes no one notices or sees him, no matter how much he tries to get
their attention in the ER. It is as if they are invisible. He steals a gurney
and supplies and treats her himself. When she awakes, she explains that she is
not of this realm. She is Veleda, from the “Dreamscape.” As long as he remains
attached to her, they cannot be seen. She urges him to leave her before he becomes
to attached. Alec decides to leave the “Banality,” Veleda’s term for the real
world and journey into the Dreamscape to help her.
Here is where I will diverge, as I had never heard of the
term Dreampunk, which is what Stephen’s novella is categorized. But as I read
it, I realized I knew what it was.
Dreampunk
While I wasn’t entirely satisfied with the definitions I
read off the internet, I can see now after reading his novel that yes, this
genre has been around for a very long time. Perhaps not clearly given a
title/name (because now of course everything has to have a title), but it has
been a driving force in literature for as long as humans can, well, dream. Dreampunk
can take on many iterations and themes, but reading Coghlan’s story, the
underlying theme is belief. The protagonist in his story needs to believe in
the dreamscape and let go of the Banality, the real world which holds nothing
but pain and suffering. If he cannot do so, he cannot win the ultimate battle.
Not only for the future of the Dreamscape, but for the future of mankind’s
dreams and his own self.
To better explain this theme, I felt it appropriate to delve
into a few examples from both classic and modern literature that tie in well to
what Coghlan touches on in this novella. Though not inclusive these give a good
cross-section.
One of my favorite examples (and possibly most well-read) would
be Louis Carrol’s much beloved Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking
Glass. Both examples of where a young girl slips either down the rabbit
hole or through a mirror into a surreal world where nothing is as it seems.
While Louis Carrol’s world defies logic, being just a little girl, she accepts
and makes her way through this bizarre world with much more ease than an adult
would. In Alice in Wonderland, she is merely in a quest to return home by the
proper time. In Through the Looking Glass, with its nod to the game of Chess,
Alice is on a mission to become crowned queen.
The next best example would be Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie, where three children, Peter, John and Wendy are flown away to Neverland by Peter Pan and his fairy companion, Tinkerbell. In this land, children never grow up.
Stepping into the US, and into controversy, is the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum. Leaving aside the underlying political and racial issues with the story, on the surface it is about a naïve, young farm girl who is spirited away from her home of Kansas by a tornado to the magical land of Oz. She fights her way through witches and other fantastical creatures to find her way back to Kansas.
Forward into the future (and a favorite from my childhood, though it doesn’t seem to be wearing well with time) is the Neverending Story. Bullied, motherless school-boy Bastien, often loses himself in the world of books. One day he steals a magical book about the land of Fantasia that is being eroded by an evil called the Nothing. While reading the adventure of the warrior Atreyu, questing to save the world from destruction, he finds that he is somehow responsible for its ultimate fate, if he has the courage to keep reading.
Moving forward into the late 1990’s with one of my favorites, The Matrix. This movie crosses many genres, scifi, dystopian, a little bit of horror. But It does fall into dreamscape, as Neo Anderson wakes up with the help of Morpheus and Trinity, to realize that the machines have taken over the world and the computer simulated life he was living was completely fictitious. Will he regret taking the red pill?
I mention all of these because the underlying theme once
more is belief. Alice, a young child, very easily believes that if she tries
hard enough, in the first story, she can find her way home. In the second she
believes she can make her way across the imaginary Wonderland chessboard and
move from a pawn to a queen. In Peter Pan, it is about the belief in one’s self
and capabilities and dealing with the realities of growing up. While living in
Neverland with no rules forever sounds appealing, the children realize this is
not where they belong. In the end of the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy always had the
power to go home, she just had to believe. In the Neverending story, Bastien
struggles to believe that he could be important enough to change the story, to
save the world. Meanwhile Neo has to learn to believe that he is the one, he
has to move within the Matrix and bend the rules to his will.
Coghlan’s character, Alec struggles with some aspect of each
of these beliefs. Unlike Alice, who slips into the alternate reality with her
ease and innocence, accepting with grace her bizarre encounters along the way,
Alec cannot. Not only is he an adult, who has cast off his child-like
acceptance of the world of dreams, he has known true horror. Battered and
traumatized by his experiences in the military, he is medicated to the point
that he doesn’t dream anymore. When he first passes into the Dreamscape, he
becomes physically ill. Throughout the story (and Stephen does some great
foreshadowing) you get a sense that there is some other reason why Veleda, his
guide, came to him. But his inability to remember how to dream hinders him as
the move through the Dreamscape. This touches not only on the themes of the
Matrix where he must ultimately let go of the boundaries and rules he once knew
in the “Banality,” but like Neo, Dorothy, and even Bastien, he must believe the
power lies within him to do so.
*I really loved Coghlan’s
scene from the Library of Dreams. This would be a surreal scene to see as a
movie in an IMAX theater.
Characters and Dream Archetypes
I am desperately trying to avoid too many spoilers in this
review, but it’s going to happen. One of the things that I felt that Coghlan
does well in such a short novella is that he shows us some unique characters. Now
I don’t know if he did this intentionally, but he definitely played well on Jung’s
dream archetypes in this story. I will explain below.
Dream Archetypes
While science has proven that almost everyone dreams (except for some with extreme sleep disorders), not all remember their dreams. Of those that do, most share stories of strange dreams, inspiring dreams and frightening dreams. When you look at literature, across almost every genre, there is a fascination with dreams, both in fiction in non-fiction. We as humans want to know what our brains are trying to tell us as we sleep. The Quran, one of the most famous religious doctrines of all time was written based on the Prophet Muhammad’s “night visions” or dreams. In the Bible, there are multiple instances of dreams foretelling the future. Giuseppi Tartini’s, Il Trillo Del Diavolo (The Devil’s Trill) was purportedly inspired by a dream he had of the Devil playing the violin for him. One of my personal favorites is Stephen King’s, the Stand, where everyone dreams of either Mother Abigail or the Dark Man and come together.
*A side note, I loved
Nadine’s constant insistence, “Don’t dream!” and then her confession later in
her goodbye letter to Larry.
Meanwhile, I think we have all had this conversation around
the watercooler/lunch table at work:
“Wow, I had the strangest dream last night!”
Dreams are so prevalent in literature, it has become cliché
to start a novel with a dream sequence. It is one of the biggest tips you get
from literary agents and publishing houses. Why? It’s been done—a lot.
Coghlan’s book is based on the world of dreams, but his protagonist
can’t dream anymore due to his heavily medicated state. And really why would he
want to? His dreams are filled with nightmares of horror and death. But moving
into the Dreamscape, a world of imagination, he must confront his deepest
psychological impulses and his true self to survive and save the Dreamscape
from an evil King that has taken control and is bringing destruction to the
world of dreams.
Here is where we get into the dream archetypes and who Alec
meets along the way. I included this link I found that has a great and simple explanation
of Jung’s four archetypes. I will break them down further in the context of Coghlan’s
story, but please feel free to investigate further. All of the characters he
meets are crucial to his journey through the land of the surreal, as they are
all reflections and aspects of his own psyche. The things he both desires and
pushes away from himself.
Our deep darker drives and desires. These we tend to
suppress, yet we are innately fascinated by them. Freud might have called this
our Id.
The Anima/Animus
The reflection of the female image/soul in the male, or the
male image/soul in a female. Can manifest as almost a superhero or god-like
form. Jung theorized that this starts as a child as we project ourselves onto
our parent of the opposite sex.
The Persona
How we present ourselves to the world. Usually in direct
opposition to the shadow, and sometimes even to the self. It depends on how
much shame or pride we feel in ourselves.
From here, these four archetypes can manifest as the more
traditional cultural archetypes. These are the standard archetypes we find
throughout literature cultures (virgin/whore, hero/villain, maiden/crone, etc)
In Coghlan’s world of the Dreamscape, every human living in
the Banality, like Alec, is a “Creator.” Their avatars or “Doppelgangers” live
out fantasies, dreams, hopes and of course, nightmares in the Dreamscape.
In the Dreamscape are characters that are native to the
realm, like Veleda, Alec’s guide. She identifies herself as “A Seer. A seeker
of truth and a teller of lies. A princess and a peon.” Her family once ruled
the Dreamscape until the evil King took over. Now they are imprisoned and she
has reached out to Alec for help. She becomes both Alec’s guide and charge as
they move through their quest. Coghlan’s description of Veleda and her place in
Alec’s psyche as he struggles to find himself fits smoothly with the definition
of his anima, or the or the pure Platonic female reflection of his psyche that
he has repressed both through his normal life and his military service. You can
read in more detail about the anima/animus below.
Veleda represents his desire to seek the truth about
himself, a truth he has pushed away even before the assistance of medication. Coghlan
does a good job of alluding to the fact that Veleda has ulterior motives to
bringing him to the Dreamscape. That if she had to, she might even betray him. He
accepts her reasons for the betrayal, as they are part of his inability to let
go of the Banality and move forward. His interactions with his anima help him to
grow as a character and find ways to get back to his dreams he has forgotten.
Another interesting mesh of Alec’s anima, shadow and persona
emerges in the form of M’lanth. M’lanth is a Shadow-Knight, native to the Dreamscape
like Velda, and protector of the Doppelgangers that dwell in the surreal. M’lanth
is a feminine reflection of Alec’s deep desires of being a warrior. His dream
of joining the army and fighting for justice, good and hope. She protects the
Doppelgangers so that their Creators can live good lives. She feels their pain
when their Creator is hurt or suffering in the Banality. What makes her his
shadow, is that she also represents his darker desire to seek revenge, snuff
out suffering. A side of himself that society forces him to repress. M’lanth
seeks revenge on those through torturous nightmares when the Doppelgangers and
Creators she cares for are hurt by evil. She represents the vigilante, the Batman,
that dwells in all of us. The shadow in the night that seeks out justice for
those who are wronged. While they start off at odds, M’lanth and Alec come to a
mutual respect by the apex of the story. She also represents the Persona he
would like to present to the world, the Knight fighting for good and triumphing
over evil. When he emerges from the Library of dreams in his glowing emerald
armor, we are seeing this Persona shine through.
Next we encounter the Doppelganger of Alec’s Army friend
Fredrick. Fredrick is yet another mesh up of archetypes. Fredrick’s character
is living a double life in the dreamscape as his creator is stuck in a perpetual
coma, wrecked and burned body beyond repair. Dwelling in the world of dreams,
he is healthy and strong. What we also learn is the hidden love between Fredrick
and Alec that was never spoken. Fredrick takes on a representation of Alec’s anima,
in the sense that he appears over and over as almost the damsel in distress sub-archetype
for Alec to rescue. But in a sense, he is also Alec’s Persona, in touch with the
Dreamscape, and has fully let go of the Banality. He also drives Alec to push
past what they experienced so that they may hopefully have some sort of future
together here in the Dreamscape, away from the oppression of cultural norms and
expectations. This is a nod to Alec’s Shadow. Now the term Shadow has negative
connotations, but really it is just a reflection of the desires we suppress,
sometimes to fit into society. Coghlan uses this dream archetype in a great but
subtle way to show the toll the lack of acceptance society has toward
homosexuality can take on people and relationships.
Now we get to the true Shadow, the evil King. Coghlan uses
great foreshadowing all along, so it is no surprise to find that the evil King
is no other than Alec’s Doppelganger. Severed from Alec, he has taken on every
dark aspect of Alec’s experiences and nightmares. Bent on taking over the Dreamscape
and controlling the human world of dreams he will let nothing stand in his way.
His plan was to lure Alec to the Dreamscape so they could merge together and he
would have ultimate power.
As the Emerald Knight and the Black-clad King square off in
this ultimate battle, the fate of human dreams hanging in the balance the question
is not just who will win, but how. In a nod yet again to the Matrix, we get
back to beliefs. Though Alec has relearned how to dream, and clad himself in
the armor of his Persona, can he bend the rules of the Dreamscape to defeat his
ultimate Shadow archetype? Though I have tossed a few spoilers out there, I
will leave this last one for the reader.
Coghlan’s “Dreampunk” was a fantastic, quick read. Writing that allows me to not only escape, but yet think at the same time is a true pleasure. My one beef with it, as with some other novellas I have read, was its brevity. There was enough material here for a full-length novel, if not two. Some of the transitions between scenes ended up being sacrificed for word count. I would have loved to read more. Coghlan definitely has the talent and capability to pull it off with rich surreal descriptions and intriguing characters. I look forward to his next venture into the “Dreampunk” genre.
Thanks for reading. My horror novella, The Dark Land, is coming to Amazon May 4th (pre-sale starts April 16th) if you sign up for my April newsletter by the 15th, you’ll get a sneak preview of a scene from the Dark Land.
My Alaska-based horror novella, set in the back country of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. Coming in May, pre-sale in April!
Stay tuned for more writing excerpts, tales of Alaskan adventures, and of course reviews!
Sitting here in this hotel room by the ocean, the waves are crashing violently against the spit outside. It’s funny, we planned this little stay-cation because the weather was predicted to be pleasant and calm, but that’s Alaska for you. A storm moving up the Prince William sound is pushing high wind into Homer where we are.
View from the Lan’s End Resort at the end of the Homer Spit
I have always loved the sound of the ocean, in all of its moods, as I sit here listening to it tonight, I am trying to decide exactly what to blog about. My mind is a jumble of thoughts about the past. Partly, because I saw my primary care doctor this week and she ordered a whole new slew of tests that I will have to grit my teeth through, partly because I have an appointment with my neurologist later this week, and she’ll order a complete battery of tests and medications to go with it, and then mostly because I am rapidly approaching another milestone. Here in a few weeks, it will be 18 years since I packed my car, said good bye to friends and made the long, lonely journey back to California after being medically retired from the Navy.
It was possibly one of the biggest mistakes I made after getting diagnosed with MS, trying to go back home. All of the reasons that Ileft in the first place were still there waiting to for me. Ever the optimist, I thought it would be different for some reason. The only thing that was different was me.
Still I made the drive. It was early December. Given the time of year, the uncertainty in the weather, and the fact that I was makingthe drive alone, I decided to take the southern route home. I drove south from Charleston to Jacksonville, stayed the night then hit 1-10. I stayed two nights in New Orleans, drove from New Orleans to San Antonio, San Antonio to Phoenix, then Phoenix to Victorville.
The Devil’s Punchbowl, about 40 minutes from Victorville and the setting for Apricot Shadows, one of my Paranormal Suspense Stories
While I moved back in with my parents, there really wasn’t any place for me at their house. I was sleeping on the couch and trying to manage a chronic medical condition with no real support. Meanwhile I was still in denial that anything was truly wrong with me.
Desperate to escape from Victorville and get away I applied
for jobs immediately after the New Years. I was offered a job in Seattle, WA as
a field electrical engineer. I had always wanted to see Seattle. Before I got diagnosed with MS, my orders
were for the Lincoln out of Everette, WA. I eagerly signed to start in late
January and packed my car once more. For the first time in months, I felt hope.
I was going somewhere, anywhere but here.
The view of the waterfront in Seattle on a sunny summer day, Seattle would be my home from 2001 to the end of 2006
My little red Hyundai loaded and ready, I put it in drive once more and pointed it north for a new adventure.
I decided to take a break from writing on this clear cold autumn day to get out and enjoy the beautiful Alaska fall weather. For those of you who follow me regularly, you may be wondering why we aren’t headed out to the cabin. Well, unfortunately, the road to the cabin is closed for the year. We’re busily making our plans for next March, but for this winter, we’ll enjoy activities closer to home.
Turnagain Arm in the fall sunshine
We decided since the weather was so nice, as previously mentioned, clear and cold, to head down to the small ski town of Girdwood for a hike. We’ve gotten out first snowfall here in south-central Alaska, but it’s not very deep. We wanted to get one last hike in before it’s time to break out the snowshoes and cross country skis. It’s also fall, so the daylight is fading fast. Between now and the winter solstice, we’ll be losing light everyday at a rapid pace.
We drove along the Turnagain Arm (as seen in the above picture). This is a great place to see the bore tide, or to see beluga whales. Directly across the arm (right where the sun is shining), is the small gold rush town of Hope. Both Girdwood and Hope have been inspirations for some of my stories.
Sun peaking through the trees. Winner’s Creek Trail, Girdwood, AK
We wanted to hike the Winner’s Creek Trail. In the summers, this is a popular hike. It connects from the Alyeska Resort property to the Crow Creek Pass Trail. This trail is part of the original Iditarod heritage trail. For hard-core marathoners, the Crow Creek Pass Marathon is one of the toughest.
Snowy Meadow
When the snow gets a little deeper, we plan on coming back out and exploring some of the cross-country ski trails or snow show trails, but while the snow is still shallow, this was an easy trail with just hiking shoes and poles. At times it was slick and treacherous, as it was hard-packed and icy.
Snowcat Bridge over Winner’s Creek, Girdwood, AK
My husband and I truly enjoy disconnecting from the world. This trail is approximately forty-five minutes from Anchorage, but as you can see from the pictures, you feel like you’re in a different world.
Bear tracks along the trail
As you walk along and soak in the surroundings, you notice more and more details. Animal tracks in the snow pop out at you. This bear has wandered along sometime ago.
Waterfall near Winner’s Creek Gorge, Girdwood, AK
I’ve lived in Alaska now for 12 years. Each season has its unique beauty. A different faucet to enjoy, if you just get out and give it a chance. Yes, sometimes that does mean experiencing a little discomfort. I promise it’s worth it.
I am pretty excited and a little nervous. I have applied to present a story live on September 11 in Arctic Entries, Alaska’s version of the Moth. I’ll have seven minutes to tell a story. The theme is “Milepost 1: Hitting the Road, Starting Fresh, Finding Your Way Home.” So I decided I would talk about my first night of boot camp.
So I decided I wanted to see the world so I joined the Navy’s Nuclear Power Program. Eventually this led me to Alaska, but I had some colorful adventures along the way. This blog post will specifically be about that first night in boot camp.
I remember standing on the curb after I got off the bus feeling a little lost. In the movies there’s always a lot of screaming and running, right? There was for the guys. Not so much for me. Maybe because I was the only girl on the bus. Really the only girl. They took all the guys off, yelling at them and left me standing alone on the curb clutching my duffle bag. After a few minutes a very pregnant RDC (Recruit Division Commander) waddles up to me and motions me to follow her.
She leads me into this giant room about the size of 4 basketball courts put together and has me start filling out paperwork. This room was partitioned into four sections filled with desks (about 80 desks each). The other sections were filled with guys. I was the only person in my section.
As you can guess, some of the guys were staring at me, sitting by myself. One of the male RDC’s proceeds to scream at them:
You will not look at that female. That female does not exist to you.
AWKWARD!
If you haven’t guessed, I am starting to get a picture of what my naval career is going to be like, and it ain’t pretty.
So there I sit, for several hours. By midnight there were a total of six of us and that was all they were going to get that night. So they finally decided to walk us to our barracks by one am. As soon as we got there, one girl immediately went into the head and started puking. They rest of us began to settle in. We were interrupted by a Chief who came in and told us they had put us in the wrong compartment and we needed to move. Discouraged, we began to grab our bags.
“You.” He said to me. “Go in and get her.” He pointed to the head. “Don’t worry about cleaning it up, just bring her out.”
I go into the head. You know you learn a lot of things in the military. But I think the biggest is compassion. I have never felt more empathy for another person in my life as I did that night.
She had puked all over the walls, the stall, the floor. Everywhere but the toilet. She kneeled on the floor, sobbing. She had a little wad of tissue, and she was trying to clean it up.
I shook her by the shoulder. “Hey, we gotta’ go. They put us in the wrong compartment.”
“I have to clean this up.” She sobbed.
“No, it’s cool. He said you didn’t have to. We can just go.”
I helped her to the sink and cleaned her up. Then we went to the other compartment. I sank into my rack at about 2 am. Reveille was at 3. Welcome to Great Lakes!
