Sway: A Novel

By Zachary Lazar

Three out of Five Stars

I’m conflicted as to what I should say about Zachary Lazar’s Sway. The book was a quick, enjoyable read, which is why I gave it three stars out of five stars. Lazar is a more than competent writer, capable of stringing together sentences that paint a vivid picture in the readers mind. Sway is well written, but poorly plotted – or should I say, simply plotted if you’re a fan of the Rolling Stones.

Sway focuses on three real-life figures of the 1960’s. There’s Manson family member and killer, Bobby Beausoleil, who starred in two of Anger’s short films, Lucifer Rising and Invocation of My Demon Brother. Bobby, who wanted to be a musician, was a lost soul, who lost his way even further under Charles Manson’s cult-like spell.

There’s indie filmmaker Kenneth Anger, who had a hard time finding his way as a filmmaker, as well as with coming to grips with his homosexuality at a time when being gay was actually a crime in Great Britain. Anger, who knew Bobby, also came in contact with members of the Rolling Stones.

Finally, there’s the Stones, namely founding member Brian Jones, who while having trouble dealing with fame and his inability to write songs, let his insecurities drive him to drug use, and his eventual release from the band he founded. As a result of this, Jones was the first member of the ’27 Club’ having died at that age, quickly followed by Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and in more recent times, Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse.

Sway is supposed to focus on these three factual storylines, but is really a book about Brian Jones and the Rolling Stones. The other two stories – historical figures – are given short shrift and could be removed without harming the book. As for its fictionalized tale of the Rolling Stones, while Lazar has done his homework, I couldn’t help wondering why I didn’t just read one of the many biographies written about the band or its individual members.

In writing historical fiction, author John Jakes, who wrote the Kent Family Chronicles, which follows generations of the Kent family from the Revolutionary War to the 20^th Century, touches upon American history and historical characters, but sees them through the eyes of his fictional family, allowing us a perspective on these people and events. In E.L. Doctorow’s Billy Bathgate, the author uses the fictional character of Billy Bathgate to explore a period in New York gangster Dutch Schultz’s life, the character arc of the story coming from Billy changing from a youngster who idolizes gangsters to one who sees their true nature and grows as a person. Sway needed a character like this; a character that could interpret the historical events of the Rolling Stones early years during the 1960’s. Without this character, what we’re simply reading is a straightforward history of the Rolling Stones, and if you really want to do that, as I’ve said above, there are some excellent biographies out there.

Having read extensively about the band, I kept questioning why I kept reading Sway, as it offered me nothing new, but instead a rehash; but for those not as well read on the band, it might be an excellent introduction.

The Girl on the Train

By Paula Hawkins

Four out of Five Stars

Paula Hawkins has taken commuting to work and made it a lot more interesting and exciting than it ever should be. The Girl on the Train is a fast, engaging read that very quickly draws the reader into its world of flawed characters, specifically Rachel, a woman whose life is quickly unravelling due to alcoholism.

Rachel rides the train every day to work. This train passes by her old neighborhood, the one in which she lived happily with her husband, Tom. He still lives there with Anna and their daughter – Anna being the woman he had the affair with when they were married. Unable to let go of Tom and what once was, Rachel is still in his life, tormenting him and his wife with her neediness, but on most days doesn’t look to their house, instead observing another married couple, on their back porch or in their back yard when the train passes, and has developed a story of who and what they are. This all changes when that woman goes missing, and for reasons I can’t relay here, Rachel has to insert herself into the police investigation.

Hawkins tale is told in the first person, namely Rachel relaying her thoughts, feelings and actions, along with Megan, the woman who has gone missing, and Anna, the woman who stole Rachel’s husband. While The Girl on the Train is a psychological thriller, with a crime involved, its true strength for me was as a character study. While Rachel’s battle with alcohol could have become tedious, Hawkins was able to find the right balance and maintain it throughout the novel, while also making the other characters and their flaws equally as entertaining.

I don’t want to say too much about the book, as its joy lies in the story slowly unfolding; and while I eventually had an idea of where it was going, and wasn’t too surprised, that didn’t take away from the overall enjoyment of delving into these characters lives for the time I did spend with them. As such, The Girl on the Train is definitely worth adding to any reading list – you shouldn’t be disappointed.

Mick Jagger

By Philip Norman

Four out of Five Stars

As a matter of full disclosure, I should mention that when all is said and done, I am more of a Beatles fan than a Rolling Stones fan, although, truth be told, the difference in my interest is relatively negligible; simply, if I had to pick one over the other, I’d side with the Beatles.

The Beatles ended in 1969, although they have a lasting legacy, whereas the Rolling Stones still endure. One would assume, any rock ‘n’ roll band that has celebrated their 50^th Anniversary, would be nothing more than a nostalgic act – a shell of their former selves – not the Stones. Their image has changed, yes. Today when I think of the Stones, I think of guitarist Keith Richards as the ‘heart’ of the band, and lead singer Mick Jagger as its cold-calculating ‘Machiavellian’ leader. Reading Philip Norman’s biography of Jagger, simply titled Mick Jagger does nothing to dissuade that image.

Riding on the wave of the Beatles musical success, and London teenage boy’s fascination with American R&B’s music, the Rolling Stones came into existence, British record labels determined not to make the same mistake they made by turning down the Liverpool group. In writing about the band, Norman, who has written biographies of The Beatles (Shout: The Beatles in Their Generation) and John Lennon (John Lennon: The Life), cannot help writing about both groups and rightfully so, as it was the Beatles who gave the band their first hit, I Wanna Be Your Man, as well as their image. Realizing that Beatles manager Brian Epstein cleaned up the Fab Four to make them more palpable to Britain at the time, the Rolling Stones manager, Andrew Loog Oldham decided to market his band as the anti-Beatles, providing them with an image as dirty troublemakers that certainly didn’t help them in the more stodgy 1960’s. It’s interesting to note that the Rolling Stones image suited the Beatles more, as they lived the hedonistic life playing rock ‘n’ roll in Hamburg, Germany and what not, while the Stones never did that, but instead Jagger was a economics University major while gigging with the band and trying to make it. They didn’t get nearly as dirty as the Beatles did.

Of course, despite their early connection with the Beatles (they were all friends), the Rolling Stones soon broke out on their own and proved themselves equally exciting as songwriters and performers once Jagger and Richards found their writing footing. Norman’s book is a fascinating and fun read, because he wisely focuses on Jagger’s life from childhood, through the 1960’s and the 1970’s. This compromises about 80 percent of the biography, and truly works, as that is the most interesting time in both Jagger and the Rolling Stones life and career. Whether he reveals anything new, I don’t think so. Jagger comes across as the pompous, cold, money-driven leader of a world-class band that he’s portrayed as in numerous other biographies and books on the Rolling Stones. Add his addictive womanizing, and for the most part, he comes off as quite unlikeable – unlikeable, but truly talented. There is no questioning his abilities as both a songwriter and singer-performer, nor his place in the rock ‘n’ roll pantheon – nor the fact, that because of all this, he is a fascinating personality.

I still think if given an opportunity, I’d like to hang out with Keith Richards listening to Blues albums, but as someone interested in the history of rock ‘n’ roll, and those influential members within it, I was glad I picked up Philip Norman’s biography Mick Jagger, and would highly recommend it. And for those individuals who would pick the Rolling Stones over the Beatles, yes, I’m aware my review is highly biased in mentioning the Beatles, and I make no apologies; I expect you’ll sway your blog another way when you write about the subject, and I respect your choice in doing so – all I know, and can guarantee is that in both our vinyl and CD collections, we have albums by both groups.

Playboy...I Really Did Read the Articles

I couldn’t quite find the quote, but I remember the gist of it. Playboy founder, Hugh Hefner was addressing a gathering of Playmates and said something along the lines that if it wasn’t for them, he’d be the editor of a prestigious literary magazine. I recalled the essence of this quote with the announcement that Playboy magazine plans to move away from publishing nude photos of women—an element that for so long has defined the publication. Of course, with this announcement, the age old claim that, “I only buy it for the articles,” which everyone scoffs at, was the creative element of the magazine’s history most broadcasters clung to. It was as original as a reporter writing about Las Vegas and including the line, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” as part of their lead paragraph. God, I hate that.

Playboy and I go back a long way – long before I was legally allowed to buy it. I remember being either 13 or 14 and standing in a variety store with my father and noticing the latest cover of the magazine, which featured Pamela Sue Martin, a dark-haired beauty who was playing Nancy Drew on TV, and eventually landed on Dynasty. I believe I asked my father about the magazine with the provocative cover featuring Pamela, and to my surprise, he bought it for me – and equally to my surprise, when we got home, my Mother wasn’t offended by the purchase.

Okay, I noticed the pictures; this was long before the Internet, so, yes, they were a revelation to me. But then something else happened – I noticed the articles. The interview in that issue was with William Colby, director of the CIA, there was an article by Carl Sagan, an artistic pictorial by Le Roy Neiman (a very distinctive and wonderful style), and much, much more. I read the magazine, and continued reading it month after month after that. Another friend of mine was also allowed to read the magazine, and we began collecting Playboy’s finding older copies at flea markets, with vendors who didn’t hesitate to sell it to minors. Surprisingly, when we were seeking out copies of the publication, our motivation wasn’t the Playmate, but the Playboy interview.  Had I found the one with the Jimmy Carter interview? How about Groucho Marx or Frank Sinatra? While my friend and I appreciated the Centerfold and the various pictorials, what drove our interest was the wealth and diversity of the articles. At 13 and 14, I was reading articles by F. Lee Bailey, Norman Mailer, Joyce Carol Oates, Stephen King, James Michener and many, many more. I was reading about social issues, politics, profiles, and some truly excellent fiction.

“I only read it for the articles.”  It may sound lame, but in many ways it was true. You see, if you’re interested in just looking at naked ladies, Playboy isn’t the magazine for you. You have the Centerfold, and before it you might have one pictorial and possibly a smaller one, and after it the same. If you count the many pages published and how many of them are of nudes, I believe you’d discover that 90 percent of the magazine was articles. If seeing naked women was your desire, there were many other magazines out there where the percentage skewed in the other direction, although many of those nudes lacked the artistic nature of the Playboy photo nude.

With the Internet making nudes available, as well as access to pornography, the power of the Playboy nude has waned over the decades. I will not miss the Playboy nude, but I will miss the Playboy of old. I haven’t read Playboy for quite some time. I suspect that due to changing times, and shorter attention spans with today’s young adults, the magazine has adapted and shortened everything. What was once the greatest in-depth interview available out there, with a diverse group of individuals, whether entertainers, politicians, business leaders, or more, has turned into a quick, uninspired interview that no longer holds the stature it once did. You can find books that are compilations of Playboy interviews, and I suggest if you do, you buy them and enjoy the beauty of those interviews, and how they didn’t shy away from addressing topical issues, like racism and the Civil Rights Movement with Frank Sinatra and John Wayne, or World War II and the holocaust with an in-depth interview with Albert Speer.

 

I remember reading an article in one of the magazine’s anniversary issues that I still believe is brilliant. The author wrote an article about writers and authors and went around to famous authors of today and those of yesteryear and asked for a copy of the blank page on pads of paper they would be writing on next, or would have been writing on next. The article was about the blank page, and the possibility of the blank page and what it could represent if it had of been used by the creative mind who owned that pad. It was amazing and strangely compelling.

I applaud Playboy’s move to walk away from the nude, but I implore its editors to look to the past and see what set it apart from other men’s magazines. I believe it would be best for them to move in that direction with the quality of their articles, rather than seeing themselves fall more towards the type of articles we can find in FHM or Maxim magazine. If they can recapture some of that past glory, as well as cultivate the quality of contributors that they once did, maybe Hugh Hefner can stand proudly in front of a crowd and announce that finally he is being recognized for being the publisher of a first-class literary magazine. At least that is my hope.

Religious Belief – A Touchy Topic at Best

I’d always heard that the best way to maintain a friendship was to avoid two topics – politics and religion. I believe it was something I heard Jimmy Stewart and Henry Fonda agreed to, as a means of maintaining their friendship – although I can’t absolutely confirm that. It seemed like good advice, and one I’ve followed, well, religiously, however, in today’s world, it seems religion has forced its way to the forefront of many of our lives whether we want it to or not.

I grew up in a diverse world, with many friends of various ethnic groups, and not once was their religion, or the religion their family practiced in their homes, an issue. What mattered most to my group of friends was whether or not we enjoyed spending time with each other? Of course, I also grew up in a world where actor and sports stars salaries were not reported, nor something we concerned ourselves with – what mattered to us was the entertainment value they provided us.

Times have changed, and whether I like it or not, religion affects all of our lives. To merely utter the word ‘Muslim,’ has an impact. It is a word that immediately has an emotional impact to many – some good, some bad; with a fear they don’t quite understand.

What does it mean to you?

Then again, what does ‘Christianity’ mean to you?

I grew up Christian, although not in a Church-going household. To marry, I took my Muslim vows, out of respect for my father-in-law and his wishes, and was married by an Imam – a beautiful ceremony that carried the same emotional and spiritual weight, as if I’d been married in a Christian, Catholic or Jewish ceremony. All I wanted was that the ceremony had a spiritual aspect to it – and it did.

Today our world is in turmoil. Radical Muslim fanatics – and the distinction here is ‘radical’ and ‘fanatics’ – are killing in the name of religion, and seeing how their actions garner headlines, more and more their behaviour is coming to unfortunately define the word ‘Muslim’ in many of our minds.

Can we honestly believe that the average Muslim, working hard to provide for his or her family and live a good life, is out to harm anyone?

I interact every day with two diehard Christian gentlemen and one Muslim gentleman. While I believe in a higher power, I’m not necessarily enamoured with organized religions, feeling they are the creation of humans, have been perverted over the years by humans to their benefit, and because they are ‘human’, as I’ve stated, definitely not infallible. At the same time, if any particular religion provides you with comfort, I see no harm in believing, especially if it helps you strive to be a better person and love your fellow man.

Of the two Christian gentlemen I work with, one I would describe as a ‘fanatic’ in his own right – although not a violent fanatic. He’s told me every day that the end is coming and that I’m going to pay. He’s an angry and unpleasant man, who doesn’t get along with anyone, and is petty and, no doubt, vindictive; he believes, without ever asking me, that I’m a sinner, and that when God returns, he will be at God’s side, and the rest of us will be doomed to Hell. The funny part is he almost seems to take great delight in the fact that many of his fellow human beings will be doomed. He believes God is all knowing and all seeing, but feels that the hatred and anger in his heart will somehow be overlooked – as if somehow he can hide that from his Creator.

The second Christian gentleman is more civilized and reasonable, however, from time to time, is determined to prove his faith’s worth, by pointing out flaws in the other co-workers faith, him being the Muslim. He is a good person, but you can see, that when it comes to Christianity, in his own way, he is as unwavering in the belief he is right, as the fanatical Christian.

As for the Muslim gentleman, a truly pleasant fellow, he is quiet, although when asked about his faith is more than willing to talk to you about it, and explain it, without putting down other’s beliefs. Possibly, he is aware of the impact the word ‘Muslim’ now carries with many, based on groups like Isis who have co-opted it in their bid for power, and just chooses to remain quiet. I’m sure in his own way, he is as certain of his faith as his two Christian co-workers; he just doesn’t force his beliefs on others.

Who is right and who is wrong?

The truth is we can’t know – at least not now. The fanatical Christian gentleman keeps trying to prove to me all in the Bible is true – scientifically proven. Of course, he always falls short of that standard, although he doesn’t think so himself. My argument with him has been that I don’t need solid proof of anything; I thought the beauty of believing was in having ‘faith’, believing in something greater than us despite a lack of evidence.

Religion has taken front and center in a lot of our lives – more so than ever before. Rather than accepting people based on their character, we’re giving too much weight in what they believe spiritually. And the fact is, like I mentioned above, no matter how much they believe, or in what they believe, we don’t know what the truth really is.

Am I to believe that when I die, I’ll arrive at the Pearly Gates, having lived – hopefully – a good life, say, as a Catholic, and St. Peter will ask me what my religion is, and despite having led that good charitable life, when I say, “Catholic,” he’s going to say, “Sorry, your wrong! It was Jewish. Straight to Hell with you!” Maybe, instead, I’ll find a St. Peter guarding those gates, who instead will give me a small, wry smile and say, “You did your best to be the best person you could be. You weren’t perfect but you were all right. You believed in what you needed to give your life purpose, and in doing so, allowed bygones to be bygones. Just having faith, faith in something more, that was all we asked.”

If I die, and the atheists are right, I’ll just fade to black and never know I ever existed. I don’t believe that will be the case. When I die, I imagine than, the unknown will all be sorted out, and I’ll know the truth, whatever it may be. That day is inevitable and no matter what I do, I can’t avoid it.

I believe the religion we all should embrace is ‘tolerance.’ It’s important to take the anger and violence out of religion, and accept that it is impossible to ever have a world where everyone believes in one thing. Much of what we believe is similar. We must also remember that no matter what we believe, there are those who believe the same, and will position it to benefit them, even if that means promoting hatred as part of that agenda. Muslim, Christian, Catholic, Jewish, whatever you believe, if that belief stems from love and the desire to contribute to our world in a positive way, using tolerance and understanding as part of that belief, please believe. Faith and spirituality make us all stronger, but remember, never let your faith devolve into anger or hatred, as in doing so, you are not honoring that faith, but corrupting it.

As for me, I’ll readily admit I know nothing; I have no answers, and probably never will. I have what I believe in and that will have to suffice. I will continue judging people based on the content of their character, and respect their beliefs, just so long as they practice those beliefs without anger or hatred. Life is too short for those emotions.

And one day, hopefully a long time from now, I’ll discover the answer...or just fade to black.

Who I Am: A Memoir

By Pete Townshend

Four out of Five Stars

I must first confess, as a teenager I was a Who fan; they were one of my favorite bands. At the same time, in recent years Pete Townshend, the lead guitarist and main creative force behind the rock ‘n’ roll band’s songs, has annoyed me, complaining in interviews about his life, his success, his fans, and so on. There is nothing more annoying than a successful man – a millionaire – complaining about his privileged life.

I found it annoying, and then I read his autobiography, Who I Am: A Memoir and realized that for his entire life, Pete Townshend, ‘Rock God’ to some, as been a pessimist – a glass is half empty kind of guy; he just can’t help himself.

To read Who I Am: A Memoir, a book highlighting the life of a very successful rock ‘n’ roller whose music is sure to live on for generations, is to read the tale of a man who never seemed satisfied with his lot in life. To read the book, you know he was conflicted continually about his direction as a rock ‘n’ roller, rather than staying in art school, his attachment to the band he joined, The Who, featuring their leader Roger Daltrey and members John Entwistle and Kieth Moon. We’re to understand he had a volatile marriage (well, not always, but enough) and that he wasn’t that good with the ladies, nor continually dealing with his own addictions. Where Townshend seems to allow himself some credit, is in his creativity, as a rock ‘n’ roll innovator, having basically come up with rock music’s first opera, Tommy, and other innovations in the field. He allows himself some credit here, but never in a bragging way.

While after reading Who I Am: A Memoir I can better understand Townshend’s complaining in interviews and, where it previously annoyed me, give him the benefit of the doubt; what prevented me from giving this autobiography a five star rating, despite my reluctance to hand out five stars too easily, was the fact, a lot in Who I Am: A Memoir left me wanting. Townshend almost seems to gloss quickly over the death of Keith Moon, and even the Cincinnati incident where lives were lost before a Who concert due to festival seating and a stampede for seating (the band played the concert, unaware of what had happened). When it came to the death of bassist John Entwistle, Townshend spent a little more time, giving us a sense of how tragic it was to him and that he could open up more if he wanted to.

Of course, no matter how much of a public figure he’s been during his lifetime, the truth is, he shared with us what he wanted to share and, really, owes us nothing more; his deeper thoughts on some matters are his and his alone, and I can respect that, although, sometimes in not mining them, he did leave me wondering and unsatisfied. That’s my problem.

Overall, Who I Am: A Memoir by Pete Townshend is a rock ‘n’ roll autobiography worth reading; and in the process, their music is worth discovering if you all ready haven’t.

Slaughterhouse-Five: A Novel

By Kurt Vonnegut

Five out of Five Stars

The classic novel, Slaughterhouse-Five: A Novel by the late literary icon Kurt Vonnegut was not on my reading list, but found its way to the top of it based on recommendations from fans of the novel. While I was aware of it, and Vonnegut’s career, I had yet to read any of his works. Seeing how I had also fared well lately in recommendations in what I should read, I thought I should give it a go.

Writing a review of such an iconic and classic book is daunting. The temptation is to search the Internet for reviews and analysis of the novel and parrot that back in the review, so as to make myself look like a literary intellectual. That would also be more than a bit of a cheat. The beauty of writing, as in many other forms of art, is that it is all interpretive; there are shared experiences, but we all get something unique or different to ourselves through art – how our minds interpret what we read and what we see; so, it’s only fair that I relate to Slaughterhouse-Five, having been read by me in 2015, as I experienced it.

The book itself, told in an almost stream-of-consciousness format, by Billy Pilgrim, focuses, or I should say, is anchored by his remembrances of being a prisoner of war during WWII, and held in the German city of Dresden during its bombing by the Allies on February 13 to 15^th in 1945; while history has now determined that the bombings claimed 22,000 to 25,000 lives, for the longest time, and in 1969 when Slaughterhouse-Five was originally published, it was believed the death toll was in the 100,000 to 200,000 range.

Billy, an inept soldier at best, is obviously deeply troubled by the bombing and his survival during it, and in telling what happened, also relates other experiences in his life, doing so by explaining that after he was kidnapped by Outer Space beings known as Tralfamadorians, he was able to time travel back and forth through time, visiting different points of his life – at least when he isn’t stuck in a Tralfamoadorian zoo, where he is observed and eventually mated with a “B” movie actress who may have also dabbled in pornography.

In telling this tale, Vonnegut doesn’t structure his novel in a traditional manner, but bounces around in space and time relating Billy’s remembrances – an approach that works beautifully. In reading Slaughterhouse-Five, it dawned on me that living through a time of war must be a strange and surreal experience, as people act and behave differently – outside the norms of proper, expected society. Billy relating his wartime experiences is almost as farfetched and unbelievable as his time traveling experiences, and time with the Tralfamadorians – both might as well be the same. I was aware that Slaughterhouse-Five had been described as an “anti-war” novel, and got that, as the behavior of human beings during war, as described by Billy, is as silly and crazy as his remembrances of space creatures; both are out of place and time. Add to this, his mundane life as an optometrist, in a functional, safe marriage, and the absurdity of war is driven even further home.

I suspect Billy Pilgrim is telling this tale late in his life, and to make sense of what he went through during WWII and the bombing, he is manufacturing events he experienced into a wild and crazy tale, that in many ways, through the philosophy of the Tralfamadorians takes away the concept of free will, and as such absolves him of his participation in something as horrific and terrible as WWII. His way of coming to terms with what he experienced in Europe during that time.

Published in 1969, Slaughterhouse-Five: A Novel, written by Kurt Vonnegut is still a powerful read; a WWII novel unlike any other, that still has something to say, and can still prompt thought. The absurdity of war has not left us; while we no longer fight World Wars, the insanity of conflict, death and destruction still haunt us, and it’s in reading something as creative and inspired as Slaughterhouse-Five that it causes us to pause for a second and wonder just what the hell we think we’re doing, or accomplishing, in our desire as a species to embrace violence?

Thought provoking and brilliant, Slaughterhouse-Five is a classic novel worth reading.

Ready Player One

By Ernest Cline

Four out of Five Stars

Normally I wouldn’t seek out a book like Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One, but then again I didn’t need to, as Ready Player One sought me out. It was probably several months back that a friend of mine recommended the novel during a phone conversation. I believe he said Whoopi Goldberg had recommended the book to Robin Williams sometime before he passed away, and that had intrigued him (I can’t confirm this). He isn’t an avid reader, so maybe I should have taken note, as he was ready to read this book. After the conversation, I quickly forgot the name of the book and the author.

Several months later, another friend, who has no association with my other friend, said he had received a copy of the book, hadn’t read it, related the idea of the book to me and asked if I wanted to read it. I said possibly and quickly forgot about it. Months passed and this friend lent the book to another, and after he had finished reading it, gave it to me to read. I was hesitant, but read the first 30 pages and was intrigued. That was when my first friend, whom I had the phone conversation with called me again (we don’t talk that much) and once again said I should read it. In all my days of reading, no book has so randomly been recommended to me. Ready Player One wanted me to read it...so I read the damned book.

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline is a perfect example of taking a chance on a book that I normally wouldn’t have. The book, based on the blurb on the back, is centered around video game culture, not an area of interest to me. I don’t play video games; not that I don’t like them, I just have other ways I wish to spend my time. This is probably why I would have passed on it – luckily I didn’t.

The book takes place in 2044 where the world is not in the best shape (is it ever in the future?). Wade Watts, a teenager about to graduate high school is poor and spends most of his time ignoring the real world and living in a virtual reality world known as OASIS. The game was designed by an eccentric billionaire, James Halliday, who, upon passing away, has left his multi-million dollar fortune and the virtual world of OASIS to whichever gamer can solve a game he has created that will lead to an ‘egg’. Years have passed, with professional gamers, known as ‘gunters’ and an evil corporation all looking to inherit Halliday’s fortune, and when Wade stumbles across the first ‘key’ and challenge and completes them, the game heats up.

Ready Player One is a fun read. Despite my lack of interest in video games, Cline has created a world I enjoyed exploring. Having been a teenager in the 1980’s, I was also delighted by the fact the book is full of Eighties pop culture references, seeing how Halliday was a big fan of that era and made his search centered around knowledge of it.

While Ready Player One is a fun read, it also struck me as fascinating that despite there being some danger to the players in the real world, for the most part, I’m rooting for characters in the novel who are sitting in rooms, strapped into virtual devices, playing a game within the book. In many cases the only danger they face is having their characters in OASIS killed, which means having to start over from scratch. It is a testament to Cline’s writing ability and character development, that despite this, I found myself lost in their world and reading on. The book could have used a bit more suspense – some things seemed to be overcome too easily – but for the most part that didn’t detract too much from the books enjoyment.

Ready Player One wanted to be read, and it was, and for a book that fell into my lap, I have to say, it was a great read, and a journey I’m glad I took. Based on how much I enjoyed it, I’ll definitely be seeking out Cline’s other novel, Armada and reading it as well.

The Fiery Trial: Abraham Lincoln and American Slavery

By Eric Foner

Five out of Five Stars

It is safe to say that out of all the American Presidents to date, Abraham Lincoln, the countries sixteenth and first Republican president, is the most revered. Along with keeping the United States of America one by not allowing various Southern states to succeed from the Union, he is also The Great Emancipator, the President who freed the slaves, freeing America of its greatest sin, something the Founding Fathers failed to tackle when they formed the new nation.

My relationship with Abraham Lincoln started early in life, when in grade two I stumbled across a children’s book recounting his life. Since that time, I’ve read quite a lot on the man and imagine I will continue to do so in the future. As America’s most revered President, I found, from time to time, there is a backlash; people determined to explain why Lincoln is not as great as is thought. On the question of slavery, there are many instances people can bring up to prove he was not as pure in his emancipation of the slaves as has been suggested. Amongst those was his belief in colonization, namely in freeing the slaves, sending them somewhere other than America to live. Of course they fail to mention that his plan for colonization, which he considered into his Presidency, was not mandatory, but an option for freed slaves.

The Fiery Trial: Abraham Lincoln and American Slavery, a winner of the Pulitzer Prize by historian Eric Foner, is a fascinating look at Lincoln and slavery warts and all. Rather than support the iconic status and legend of Lincoln, Foner’s examination of the man brings him down to earth, humanizing him.

Slavery is the key topic of this examination of Lincoln; no other issues are explored, and as such, Foner is able to provide us a look at the evolution of Lincoln’s thoughts on the issue. From the start, Lincoln knew slavery was wrong, that no man should be allowed to enslave another, especially based on skin color. He knew it was wrong, but as a man of the 19^th Century, it would not be expected that he fully believed the Black man was the equal to the White man. It wasn’t until his Presidency that Lincoln came in contact with learned Black men and developed an appreciation for their character and intellect, and the possibility of their equality of citizenship.

                                                                                                   

Demonstrating Lincoln’s evolution of thought is where The Fiery Trial truly excels; and it is that ability to grow, learn and adapt that made him so great. America’s sin of slavery tore the country apart, resulting in a Civil War, one of the bloodiest wars ever fought by Americans. Insight into Lincoln’s thought process, and his own intellect is a revelation. When the South succeeded from the Union, many Northern abolitionists believed the President should immediately free the slaves, and when he didn’t, criticized him harshly. What they didn’t understand was Lincoln’s belief that Northerners, even abolitionist Northerners, would not be willing to fight a war with the South simply to free the Black man; they would not willingly spill blood for that cause, so he had to coach the conflict not in terms of ending slavery, which he truly believed it would, but as important to keep the nation whole. He knew he’d have to wait for the right time to issue an Emancipation Proclamation and did so accordingly. Jumping the gun might have resulted in a far different America than we know today.

The Fiery Trial: Abraham Lincoln and American Slavery is a very accessible book; Foner writes simply, but effectively, and mines his topic thoroughly. In the world of Lincoln books, he has created one that should not be missed. It is brilliant in focusing on a man struggling with one of the greatest questions of his day, and accomplishing a difficult task during a very difficult time. In reading about Lincoln’s struggles with slavery, warts and all, I have to admit my opinion of the man has not faltered, but instead increased. This is definitely a book worth reading and a MUST read for admirers of Abraham Lincoln.

Re-Thinking the Sex Pistols’ Johnny Rotten, aka John Lydon

Today’s generation is media savvy. With broadcast and cable TV offering them a wealth of channel options, to the Internet where information, both true and false, is so easily decimated, finding information about anyone or anything is really at their fingertips. Based on this, today’s generation could never understand the arrival of the punk band, the Sex Pistols on North American shores during the late Seventies.

I remember back to that time; I would have been around twelve, and the headline in one of the daily newspapers mentioning the Sex Pistols and their arrival in America, or maybe in Canada, I don’t quite remember. Looking at that headline, it almost seemed like we were being invaded by an unruly horde. The band had as its title that three letter word, ‘sex’ which those of us old enough knew was significant, but also young enough to not quite understand. News of the band hitting North American shores was both titillating, for some unknown reason, and terrifying, for some unknown reason. Back in the day, all we had was that newspaper coverage, there were no computers to go look up the band and find out more about them. This lack of information gave the band its edge and its mystique and made their journey from Britain to America (or Canada) not only newsworthy, but strangely thrilling.

I remembered this feeling, and my generation’s naivety, due to a lack of news resources, recently, as I embraced the Internet and watched some interviews with John Lydon, formerly Johnny Rotten, lead singer and songwriter for the Sex Pistols, and afterwards the band Public Image Limited. John Lydon has released another autobiography, Anger Is an Energy: My Life Uncensored and has done some interviews to promote it. I’d read his other autobiography, Rotten: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs which I really enjoyed, and found quite surprising during my read, having discovered that there was more to Lydon that I’d ever imagined.

In interviews, both new and old, John Lydon, formerly Johnny Rotten, leader of a band that was designed to scare us due to their youthful anger and message, is a very intelligent and practical man. He is outspoken, and explained that his book is title Anger Is an Energy as when he was about seven he contracted meningitis, and was in a coma for a year, and lost his complete memory, having eventually recovered it through the disposition of anger – which seemed to help it come back faster than say a melancholy mood.

I watched quite a few clips and interviews, and found Lydon secretly (he doesn’t want to broadcast it) helps children’s charities, he is not caught up in the mythology surrounding his former band the Sex Pistols, nor the legends that have derived from it, especially the iconic status his good friend Sid Vicious attained after dying so young. A 1986 movie by writer-director Alex Cox, Sid and Nancy documents the love affair between Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen, whom Vicious was accused of killing, and whose murder trial he was awaiting when he overdosed. In an older interview with Conan O’Brien, Lydon commented he didn’t like the romanticism of the movie, as the truth was, they were both heroin junkies and there is nothing romantic to be made about that.

In watching Lydon talk and express himself, I have to admit I found him to be a music celebrity who seems to have his feet on the ground, and who hasn’t bought into all the crap surrounding that career. It was a complete departure from the mysterious Johnny Rotten, who all those years ago, in the late Seventies, seemed dangerous, a little frightening, but still intriguing and compelling. The world has changed, more information lies at our fingertips, and that breaks down the mystique that once could have been there, but that’s okay, because today, I have a new appreciation and more respect for John Lydon, and thank the good Lord he is still as angry as ever. Now all I have to do is head out to the local bookstore and purchase Anger Is an Energy: My Life Uncensored...and maybe mourn a little those days when life held a little more mystery and information wasn’t so readily available.

The Juliette Society

By Sasha Grey

Four out of Five Stars

I was initially drawn to this book by its title. Realizing it was a work of erotica, the name ‘Juliette’ immediately took me to the infamous novel, Juliette written by the Marquis de Sade; the society in Sasha Grey’s first novel is named after Juliette, the wicked alternative to the Marquis’s other infamous female character, Justine. Having just used the Marquis as inspiration for my latest novel, a thriller, I was intrigued.

While Sasha Grey has been out of the adult movie business now, longer than she was in it (based on an interview I read about her), it seems it has to be mentioned she is a former adult actress in pornographic films. While she has branched out into mainstream movies, and now writing, it really shouldn’t have to be stated, but she can take solace in the fact that both Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr are still referred to as ‘Ex-Beatle...” despite the fact they’ve done so much more since then (and, yes, I know, their time as Beatles was significant).

Enough said about Grey’s past. What she’s asking us to do now is spend time with her book and the characters within. The Juliette Society follows Catherine, a college film student in a difficult and troubled relationship, who, out of frustration, and after meeting a sexually promiscuous fellow student named Anna, is dealing with her sexual fantasies and desires. Catherine is the narrator of the novel and is quite open about her sexual desires and thoughts, even to the extent of spending one chapter ruminating on male ejaculate (‘come’ not ‘cum’ in her estimation), which, surprisingly works, giving us further insights into this young woman’s thoughts.

Before I read The Juliette Society, I have to admit I did something I don’t usually do and read a few of the current reviews out there. I found a lot of criticism regarding Catherine’s literary or film references, as if the author was using them as a means of saying, “I’m intelligent...see, I’m intelligent.” I disagree, the Catherine in the book is a college film student, and if any of you have known any first or second year film students, you know they’re quite pretentious, no doubt parroting back the observations of their film professors, often to the point of being annoying. So, in this regard, it’s just good character development, and the references themselves, are excellent and used sparingly enough.

I read criticism that the book is called The Juliette Society and the Society doesn’t appear until halfway through it, and while that is so, and it doesn’t feature as prominently as I might have liked, that didn’t take away from the enjoyment of the book. I’d also read an interview in which it was mentioned Grey may be working on a sequel, so in that regard, I’m sure we’re in store for more – and I will definitely read that sequel as well.

The bottom line is, as a quick read, an erotic and explicit read, which I’m not overly familiar with, or just really isn’t my go-to genre, I enjoyed The Juliette Society. Grey is an excellent author and she has written a highly accessible read. She has a great style and I felt she had developed the character of Catherine wonderfully throughout the novel, as well as added in some interesting and colorful characters for her to interact with.

The Juliette Society didn’t satiate my interest in The Marquis de Sade, but because of that brief reference, it, or his legacy, did lead me to a book I thoroughly enjoyed and in asking me to spend any time with it, Grey has delivered on her part of the bargain by entertaining.

Blood Meridian – Or the Evening Redness in the West

By Cormac McCarthy

Three out of Five Stars

Blood Meridian – Or the Evening Redness in the West, the fifth novel by Cormac McCarthy, author of The Road and All the Pretty Horses, amongst others, is a tough novel to read; at times I was enjoying it, and at others, I was bored. In the course of reading it, my reaction to it shifted many times, but now that I’ve completed the novel I have to say I’m glad to have stuck with it during those times it was wearing on me.

The novel follows the journey of ‘The Kid’ a teenager in the 1830’s who finds himself in the company of Apache hunters, hired by a Mexican Governor to collect as many scalps as they can. Theirs is a journey full of peril and violence; a journey where when a group of men come upon another group of men, they are more than likely to attempt to kill one another, then let each other go about their merry way.

The common theme of those who have read Blood Meridian and are recommending it, is that you won’t believe the violence in it – that the book will shock and repulse you with it’s depictions of death and the depravity of man. This aspect was less startling to me. Having read extensively about the Wild West, as well as other moments in Humankind’s existence, the violence and depravity committed in this novel are no worse than what you can read in most history books. If you’re not well-read in this area, or a student of the darkness that lies in human souls, I guess Blood Meridian would be quite shocking.

While I enjoyed, at times, the journey ‘The Kid’ was taking, and was fascinated by the books most unique and intriguing character, Judge Holden, at times I found it tedious. A good part of the book seems like a travelogue, McCarthy describing in detail the terrain the characters are crossing; while interesting at first, after a while I could do without it. With such interesting characters, I would have enjoyed a further exploration of who they were and their true motivations. I’ve read that’s part of the books intent, not to explain the characters, but just focus on the senseless violence, but while that may satiate some, I’d prefer to delve further into their heart of darkness.

I have my own thoughts about Blood Meridian in that upon coming to the books end, I believe what I had read was one man’s – or teen’s – journey through 19^th Century Hell – a world where there are no heroes and only evil exists.

Blood Meridian is a good novel, and certainly one I’m glad I read. And while it has left me conflicted at times, not conflicted enough that I’m not going to read more of Cormac McCarthy’s books.

Finding Inspiration When Writing

July 12, 2015

Quite some time back, I said I would blog about finding inspiration as a writer; the act of doing so is unique to all writers. While there is no way to tell someone how to be inspired, I can relate how it works for me.

When it comes to writing, I would refer to myself as a working man’s writer. There are some authors who have the luxury of being able to sit around waiting for inspiration to grace them; these writers, no doubt bestselling authors, who have enough money to do so, can take up to a year or two, or more, to complete a book. I don’t believe, even if I had that luxury, I would do that.

My inspiration comes simply from the act of writing. When I decided to write my first book, I set a daily goal for myself - namely, I wanted to write 1,000 words a day. If you can accomplish this, in three months you’ll have enough words completed for a book-length manuscript. (Of course, the words and story have to be good enough to call it a book).

In setting a goal like this, you can’t guarantee that every day you’ll be inspired, or know where you’re going, so I did what I read in a writing magazine – just write. I remember one day, while writing Tripping on Tears, I really wasn’t inspired, but I had trained myself so well to write 1,000 words a day, that I felt guilty if I didn’t. So, on this particular day, I just sat down and wrote – where I thought the story should go. I remember thinking, as I wrote, that what I was writing was terrible. I knew, in the back of my mind, I’d probably be erasing everything I wrote the next day; what I was doing, was making sure I kept up my routine; that I sat down at my keyboard and tried.

Now I got lucky. The next day, when I read what I’d written, it turned out it was actually good – it had also taken me in the right direction. What I discovered for myself was that the story lived within me, even if I wasn’t aware of it, and by just typing it found its way out. I discovered I had to believe and trust in myself as a writer. I can’t wait for inspiration, but if I put myself in the write environment, doing what I love, it may just find me.

I got lucky that day, and many other days. I just wrote and continued writing. Most of us live in fear of losing what we’ve written. To find inspiration, as opposed to waiting for it to find you, you have to write and write without the fear of it being crap and needing to be thrown out the next day. If you can live with the possibility of mistakes, you’ll discover that great things can also happen. Erasing 1,000 words is not the end of the world, but might be part of the process you need to engage in to find your way in the story you’re telling.

Open your eyes to the world around you, observe, read, interact, and then trust in yourself; sit at your keyboard and write – don’t wait for perfection, but set about trying to find that day’s perfection. Just do it and who knows great things might just happen?

Finding the Writer Within

July 12, 2015

I’ve been away from my diary for a bit; like most of us, it can be hard to find the time to accomplish everything that needs to be achieved in the hours we’re given each day. If I look back on it, I guess I’d have to admit to a fair amount of wasting time, but what can I do, I believe that’s hardwired into, well – me.

Actually, I’ve been hard at work finishing my zombie-horror novel, Barkerton. I started it when I was a young writer and was unable to complete it, although over the years I’d managed to get it up to about 90,000 words – with only about another 10,000 to 15,000 needed to complete it.

Barkerton helped define me as a writer. The process of writing a complete manuscript was daunting. As a lover of movies, I turned to screenwriting, which is a little more controlled; you’re restricted to writing no more than 120 pages if you’re going to make it in that field. It’s not that it’s easy to do, just a little more structured.

My initial failure with Barkerton kept me from writing books, despite the fact I had ideas for novels – ideas that couldn’t be contained in the confines of a movie script. I let those ideas fester; some of them crying out for attention, but ignored.

It wasn’t Barkerton that wasn’t ready, but instead, me. Now that I’ve written three thrillers and finished Barkerton, I’ve come to understand that at the time I embarked on my first novel, I was too immature as a writer. For some people, writing, and writing well, is easy, but not for all of us. When I look back at that early manuscript I understand there is something there, but not something of publishable quality. I needed time to find my voice, and develop my skills; something that screenwriting unexpectedly helped me with.

Barkerton has been re-written and completed, but only because I was finally ready to complete it, and had finally developed the skills that allowed me to complete it. Looking inward and understanding our weakness is something difficult to do. I appreciate the skills I’ve developed, and the fact they’ve been developed, but only now understand it has been part of a lifelong process I couldn’t have hurried, even if I’d want to. Finding your voice as a writer is important and necessary; you’re going to want to share your work, and in doing so, you should make sure you put your best foot forward – if you’re lucky enough to find a readership, they deserve that.

So, whether you’re there or not, keep writing, keep challenging yourself, accept creative criticism and grow; the journey is worth it.

The Riveners: Beginnings

By V.E. Rayner

Five out of Five Stars

In terms of pure reading enjoyment, The Riveners: Beginnings by V.E. Rayner is one of those novels that reminded me why I love reading so much. A fantasy novel, which isn’t normally my go-to genre, The Riveners: Beginnings immersed me in a world that not only held my attention, but that I also fell in love with.

Now, before I go any further, I must give full disclosure, I’ve traded emails with V.E. Rayner, as a mutual associate of ours asked me to read the book for editing purposes. That’s how I came about reading a fantasy novel. What I discovered was a well-written, entertaining manuscript that needed very little work.

The book itself centers on the various denizens of Overview, a quaint little town where local physic Nicholas Beech, through necessity, is introduced to its darker nature – a fact that will have a lasting effect on him and his family. Along with the Beech family, V.E. introduces us to a wealth of colourful characters, some who are equally as engaging as the Beech family, and some who are abhorrent in nature. As for the Riveners themselves, creatures V.E. wrote me originated in a dream, they’re quite fascinating. V.E. takes these deadly creatures and gives them a personality of their own – at times you’ll be rooting for them, and at others, fearing them.

I don’t want to say too much about the plot of the novel, as it is wide in scope, but never too wide that the author loses the reader. What is created is a fascinating world, populated by equally fascinating characters. What struck me about the novel – and why I’m writing this review – was that in reading it, I was surprised to find myself thinking about Overview and its residents, even when I put it down. The story and characters stuck with me in a way that is rare – yet thrilling.

I enjoyed the world I explored, and knowing that The Riveners: Beginnings is merely the first in a series of novels; I’m looking forward to revisiting it, and, luckily, have been asked to go over the manuscript for the second novel. All in all, The Riveners: Beginnings is a great read – a novel and new author worth taking a chance on, if you enjoy well developed stories, great characters, and a little bit of the fantastical.

Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney

By Howard Sounces

Four out of Five Stars

I’ve pretty much been a lifelong Beatles fan; a fan that has also grown to appreciate the music John, Paul, George and Ringo (yes, Ringo) made as solo artists. I’ve read a lot of books on the Beatles, and have several lined up to read in the future. It’s a compulsion, as, despite the fact the story never changes, and I know it so well, I still continue to read the books. Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney, at least allowed me to not only read about his Beatle years, but also his solo career, which I haven’t thoroughly explored – so at least, I knew there’d be something different here.

Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney by Howard Sounes, was a solid read – one I enjoyed. The trick to writing a book about a Beatle these days, is to say your book offers new insights, but based on the amount that has been written about them, these new insights are often negligible. Fab is no different in this regard, and those insights were not that exciting, at least for me. I have to remember though, if you’re just starting to explore the world of the Beatles, everything in this book is new, and as such, interesting.

Howard Sounes is an excellent writer, with an easy-going style. He reports on aspects of Paul’s life, without falling into the trap some writers do when writing about musicians, of over-analyzing their musical work. He does comment on the songs and their strengths, and I do agree with him that lacking John Lennon’s contribution, a lot of Paul’s work with Wings, and as a solo artist, didn’t have the same impact. In fairness to Paul, however, we can say the same for John’s work; the two seemed to counter balance one another beautifully. That’s not to take away from moments of brilliance in song writing – it’s just when you look at that brilliance over the ten years of the Beatles, the solo years seemed leaner.

The book did give me a new appreciation of Paul as a family man, and one can’t help feeling bad about his experiences with second wife Heather Mills, after a long and successful marriage with the Lovely Linda. Heather does not not come off well in the book; seeing as she recently criticized Paul after he worked with Kanye West, saying he was irrelevant, I tend to believe her character skews towards what Howard Sounes has written about her. Maybe it’s time she let go of the anger.

Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney is a great place for anyone to start, if they’re exploring the Beatles as both a band and solo artists; for those of us well entrenched in their lives, it’s still a solid read. Some may disagree; all I can say was I enjoyed the read, and in the long run, as a reader that’s all that really counts.

Remembering Those Who Inspired

June 8, 2015

I’ve been working hard re-writing and polishing my fourth novel, Barkerton. Trying to balance that with blogging and getting on Twitter, and...well...failing. Yesterday, however, I was given pause to think and reflect. It was four years ago, June 7th, that my Father passed away. I know they say time heals all wounds, but no matter how much I appear to be coping, his loss, and that of my Mother still hits me hard.

My Mom has been gone for eleven years now. It was a loss that struck me to the core of my being; I had a great relationship with my Mom, and she provided a voice and guidance that I could turn to when life became complicated – or just when I wanted someone to talk to. If your Mom is still around, do not underestimate the value of being able to pick up the phone and call her; for me, it is now just a dream.

My Mother dedicated herself to raising her kids, and gave her all to us. Now that I look back, I honestly believe she was a frustrated writer; it was my Mother that instilled a love of reading and writing in me. She wrote well, and I can’t help but wonder what she would have written if she’d actually nurtured her talent. Instead she nurtured my talent. I believe she sacrificed her dreams, to give me my dream; she set me on the path, that has now developed into novel writing, and that is a gift I am unable to truly thank her for, as I’ve realized all of this only after her passing.

Dad, well, Dad was a presence; he was a giant of a man with a good heart. He never failed to help others, and did so because he really truly cared. Dad wasn’t an avid reader of books, but he consumed newspapers on a daily basis, as well as magazines devoted to history. In his own way, he was a well-read and intelligent man. What he gave me is whatever strength of character I currently have. He showed me what it was to be a good human being, and while I know I’ll never completely measure up to him, by making me strive to do so, he has made me a better man. My Dad and I were close, and his passing still haunts me to this day. You see, when Mom became sick with cancer, Dad was her main caretaker, and it wasn’t until that wretched disease afflicted him, and my wife and I became his main caretaker, that I realized all he had done for her and all he had gone through – with grace, dignity and no complaints.

Don’t get me wrong, my parents were not perfect, but from what I do know, in being born as their son, I did win a biological lottery. So much of whom and what they were, makes me who and what I am today. I believe that is reflected in my writing and my ability to have become a writer.

I miss them.