Sunday, February 23, 2014

Pompeii No Way

I couldn’t stay away from the combination of disaster movie/sand and sandals epic, Pompeii, this weekend. I’ve had a soft spot for the events of August 24, A.D 79 ever since National Geographic published an article on Herculaneum in May 1984. Reading about the amazing discoveries there helped cement my determination to major in Anthropology a few years later. I didn’t study classics, or shift into physical anthropology, but I have maintained a dilettante’s interest in the subject of Vesuvius’s eruption ever since. So it was with a little more than a layman’s knowledge that I entered the theatre. Such was my undoing.
First, the story was so incredibly predictable and re-hashed, I couldn’t even watch the actors most of the time, I was so embarrassed for them. Hero orphaned by awful Romans, check. Hero turns into awesome fighter in the gladiatorial arena, check. Hero is a horse whisperer and impresses Heroine by breaking a horse’s neck, check. Wait, what? Okay, that whole scene made no sense. Heroine is daughter of a rich, influential man but is mysteriously attracted to a slave, check. Hero is set upon by fellow gladiators and grudgingly befriended by his rival, check. Villain is an alpha-hole to Heroine and also happens to be the bad guy who orphaned our Hero seventeen years prior, check. Oh, I can’t even go on any longer, it’s all so sadly unimaginative it makes me gnash my teeth. Even a cursory reading of a popular book on the subject of Pompeii would provide so many wonderful plots and ideas it’s almost as if the writers were forced at pen-point to use only tired clichés.
Second, the behaviors and attitudes of all the major characters were so wildly inappropriate it made me wince as I watched. The Heroine somehow has a distaste for the Roman aristocracy even though she’s the living embodiment of it. She also inexplicably rides off with the (slave) Hero after a minor earthquake even though there’s absolutely nowhere for them to go, and after about two minutes they give up and come back to the villa. At that point, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Heroine announced she was vegan and wanted to make sure her carbon footprint was as small as possible. The Villain was relentless in his pursuit of this unappealing (by the standards of the day) young woman, even in the face of enormous projectiles of flaming magma exploding all around him. The Hero just glowered and hit people, which brings me to my next point.
Third. Lots. Of. Fighting. So many stabbing swords, thumped shields, wielded chains, swinging fists, and thrown spears I was sick of it after the first fifteen minutes even though I had to endure another hour of it. Why filmmakers default to gladiatorial characters when they make a Roman era movie is beyond me. We’ve seen death in the arena so many times it’s not interesting anymore. Why not write about the traders who brought in luxury goods from all over the empire? Or borrow an idea from Robert Harris’s great book, conveniently titled Pompeii, and make a film based on the amazing achievements of Rome’s hydraulic engineers?
The only reason I’m not upset I spent seven dollars on this thing was because the CGI folks did a great job. I loved all the panning shots of ancient Pompeii and the eruption of Vesuvius made me gasp out loud. There was some inaccuracy in how they portrayed the stages of the eruption, but a casual viewer would never pick up on it. A great book to check out in relation to how the eruption occurred and what happened hour by hour in Pompeii and Herculaneum is Charles Pellegrino’s Ghosts of Vesuvius.
If you are after visual thrills and chills of the toga sort, Pompeii should work for you. If you want to care about the characters before they are incinerated in a pyroclastic cloud, skip the movie and read one of the books I mentioned above.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Turn Ons and Turn Offs

I’ve been thinking about tropes and clichés in writing quite a bit lately, both because of interesting posts I’ve read and because I’m trying to refine my author ‘brand’ (oh how I hate that term). After three rejections of my latest manuscript, I feel like I’m either not hitting the mark or I’m really going off into the writing wilderness. To be clear, I know I’m not writing the 'auto-buy' norm in my genre, so let’s just go with the idea that I’m avoiding the commonplace and blazing my own path. There, that feels better than just being a failure.

I was browsing at the fabulous Worthington Public Library,  this afternoon and realized it doesn’t take me long to reject a book and about ten times as long to find one to check out. So I can somewhat understand editors evaluating submissions making the same split-second decisions, but I do believe it’s incumbent on these gatekeepers to not offer up the same old storylines and archetypes time after time because they are missing new markets of people like me who avoid them as soon as I read the back cover. So this one goes out to editors, agents, and publishers everywhere; Lynn Rae’s lists of fiction Turn Ons and Turn Offs, since I know they are so desperate for my business.

As soon as I see these words or phrases I put the book down:

-any title with ‘Duke’ in it

-vampires or were-anythings


-a protagonist younger than twenty-five

-‘hiding a secret’, 'scarred', or 'walled-off'

-any allusion to psychological problems that warrant therapy/pharmaceuticals, not the magic cure all of sex and/or tracking down a serial killer

-made-up names with lots of paired vowels, consonants, and apostrophes. Can’t pronounce them in my head and can’t keep track of the characters as I’m reading

-protagonists having a fabulous career in unbelievable ways; cupcake maker, corporate art consultant, self-employed international terrorism expert, cocktail designer. Just no.

-a child in peril

Now that I’ve revealed my curmudgeon tendencies, I’ll lighten the mood and list the terms and topics that make me pick up a book instantly

-natural history. Give me dinosaurs, giant squid, sharks, fungus, viruses, and the genetic modification of any or all and I’m on board

-protagonists with appropriate amounts of self-awareness and life skills

-accurate depictions of small town life

-natural disasters and pandemics (but not most zombie apocalypses because the science is nearly always bad)

-protagonists who make clothing, art, food, or gardens as hobbies

-books set in places I’ve been, if only for me to see if the author can communicate that setting to me

There. Looking this list over, I can see I hit the reject button on about seventy-five percent of popular fiction. Hmm…does that mean I’m too picky or does it mean there are a lot of similar books on those shelves?

Friday, January 31, 2014

My Fantasy

There it is...the repository of hopes and dreams...

No, not that kind of fantasy. I’m talking about daydreams here, the stuff that creeps into your head when you’re waiting at a red light and there’s nothing riveting on the radio to distract you from your thoughts.

Here’s one of mine and if you share one of yours in the comments, I might just send you a copy of my latest book, Return.

It’s no secret that I love to shop second-hand. I have ever since I was a kid, and the impulse only strengthened once I got my own car and could stop at any garage sale that caught my eye. So for nearly thirty years I’ve been hitting the mismatched racks and cluttered tables of thrifts. It’s hit or miss and always has been. Sometimes I lament the lack of cool vintage stuff that I found with ease years ago, but I’m really grateful for like-new kids clothes now, so the trade-offs seem worth it.

So, on to my fantasy.

I’m in a thrift store, medium-sized with good lighting and a clean floor (this is a fantasy, after all). I start going through the racks and nothing falls off the hangars as I pull and check labels. Nothing good, nothing good, until I hit a possible. Pull it out; a perfect pair of chinos, right size, no wear, quality manufacturer. The next hangar holds a great seersucker pair of trousers, and next is jeans I’m sure will fit just right.

I toss everything into the cart and keep going. The cart’s wheels all work properly and there’s no sticking or squeaking (see, I warned you it was a fantasy). Next is a red cashmere cardigan, then a couple of perfect white shirts, a black alpaca scarf, and at the end of the aisle, a narrow metal mesh belt, exactly what I’ve been in search of for the last year and a half.

The cart’s filling up and my heart is pounding. Should I keep looking or accept I’ve had the finds of a lifetime and head to the counter to pay up while my luck still holds? I’m not much of a gambler, so I make my way to the front only to be distracted by it; an English trench coat, just my size, zip-out lining still in place and nothing weird left in the pockets. Mine!

Now the fear hits me as I approach the display cases. Will I be able to find some cool piece of jewelry to cap off all my fabulous fashion? I peer through the glass at trays of plastic stretch bracelets and trashy necklaces from the state fair midway, sure I’ve used up my luck for the day. But no, I spy something, the edge of something enameled and gold-tone. I have to see it. Wonder of wonders, a staff person is actually there and ready to help and she pulls out what I ask to see with no trouble. Yes, it’s a vintage Trifari dragon necklace, bright green with angry red beaded eyes, without a scratch or sign of wear. It’s only five dollars and I immediately head into line, keeping my eye on the necklace as the clerk carries it to the person running the register.

Everything rings up correctly and I have enough money to pay (again, fantasy). I experience that thrill of discovery and possession that I imagine is hardwired in a hunter-gatherer’s psyche. Instead of finding the best berry patch or tender-fleshed mammoth, I’ve gotten some stylish clothes for ninety percent off retail. We modern human have to take our thrills where we can.

Next time, maybe I’ll tell you my food fantasy. Or maybe even one of those fantasies. Remember, leave a comment about your fantasy and your email for a chance to get a copy of my latest book.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Secret Cravings Blog Hop

Did you get a new tablet or e-reader for the holidays?
Looking to fill it with some great books?
Looking to romance away the winter blahs?
Then stop by all the great SCP authors blogs for a chance to win some great romance novels?

Go to EVERY SCP author link and find the letters to spell out Secret Cravings Publishing
Each author has been assigned a letter. Look for the snowflake with that author's letter and once you have spelled out the phrase, email your answers (match up the letter to the author*) to

*Some letters are used twice but that just means two authors have the same letter. You cannot use the same author for the same letter.

Aside from the individual authors' special prizes, SCP has some great prizes to offer too

Grand Prize- iPad 2
First Place- Kindle HDX
Second Place- $50 SCP gift certificate
Third Place- $25 SCP gift certificate
Head back to the main page here:

Winners will be notified by February 4, 2014
In addition to collecting your letters and reporting back to Secret Cravings for a chance at all those great prizes, leave a comment here for a chance to win my SCP book, Bent Boot Road


Lydia Back has problems; a dead end job cataloging artifacts no one wants to see, an office in a dusty basement storage room, and she’s just discovered that her friend is missing.  Adding to her frustrationis the arrival of a too-charming private investigator who needs her help.
Carter Harris has no problems; he has his own successful business and is enjoying a few days in a scenic southern Ohio town to gather information on a missing professor.  But his local contact turns out to be an uncooperative woman who prefers traipsing around in the forest to having a civilized conversation with him.
They begin to uncover the secrets that lurk under the surface of other people’s lives and also discover an inconvenient attraction.  When danger looms, both Carter and Lydia realize it will be impossible to survive without each other.