2019 A Year's Review in Books

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This year my goal was to read 48 books and I surpassed the goal by reading 50 books.  Reaching this number of books with the active year I had was hard.  Most days I wanted to stare off into space like a half conscious zombie, too lazy to even shamble off for brains.  When I read, it was often rereads of old fanfiction favorites (yes I read and love Harry Potter fanfiction still and no I did not count a single line of fanfiction as reading a book though many of my favorites are longer than the books that made the list).

It was an ugly year for books.  Over half of my book list is nonfiction and often I read “nonfiction” on Kindle Unlimited to fact check and argue more than to inform.  Public service announcement: don’t use  book selection on Kindle Unlimited for research.  While they have some great books, the ones with dangerous misinformation FAR out weight the hidden gems.  

This year’s review will differ from last year’s summary.  I will offer three books I loved, three I liked, and three that disappointed.  

What I Loved:

1.Secrets Bound by Sand: This is the 4th installment of T. A. White’s “Dragon Bound” series.  She maintains a steady quality and pacing.  While I didn’t love this book as much as either book 1 or 3 in the series, it was a great addition.  Tate remains a strong willed female character with a small core of trusted friends and a larger group of maybe allies.  I like how she and her dragon interact, though I missed some of the series standar characters as Tate spends a lot of her time on her own.  Tate is at her most compelling when there’s a large cast for her to play against.  This smaller set piece leaves less for her to work against or with, which lead to a smaller feeling story.

White writes action and adventure series that rely on puzzle solving from smart and reflective characters.  Her world building remains strong, detailed, and compelling.  Can’t wait for more.

2. The Numia Trilogy:  A break out new favorite.  I’d no idea Charlie N. Holmberg was working on something new.  Sandis is a smart if too trusting protagonist.  Her plight drives these books, and she’s a lovely character to follow around.  I found Rone’s perspective annoying and often skipped his chapters.  He was like an unwelcome intruder to what was otherwise a beautiful narrative.  

Upon reflection, the first book is the weakest of the series.  Readers: if you don’t care for the split perspective (like me) it gets better as the series continues. I can’t remember if Rone started being interesting (he is in book 3 and maybe Holmberg put in unneeded split perspectives in books 1 & 2 because she knew she needed them in book 3) or if I learned to like him more.  All I know is that what was jarring and infuriating in book becomes less onerous in further installments.

And can we talk world-building?  Everything in this made up place works so well together.  All the pieces fit but not in a cookie cutter “the author aligned the stars” artificial feel some fantasy worlds have.  Also, the length of the series is perfect.  Homberg gave us just enough for three books.  The world unravels a touch in the last third of the last book.  My suspension of disbelief stuttered, but pacing and stakes kept me invested till the last page.

3. Folk Witchcraft: I liked this book so much I bought it.  It’s a British centric perspective on witchcraft but not Wicca centered.  No calling quarters, casting circles, or God/Goddess assertions.  No threefold law.  Instead of offering generalization and all kinds of seasonal advice that only applies to people living in the right climate, Horne gives practical advice for meditation, reflecting on what one’s local seasonal shifts are, where one’s local land deities may be, and how to contact them.  His book reads less like someone’s ideal of what magic should do or be and more like what a person could expect/achieve.

While the book was spiritually nourishing for me, it was also very inspirational as a writer.  The short stories or little vignettes that could come out of some of these practices are enticing.  A few short fables could be a lot of fun.  If you’re an urban fantasy writer looking to create a magical system, I recommend Folk Magic as a good jumping off point.  

What I Liked:

1. Firefly Magic: Another book I ended up buying.  While I started reading this book way back in 2017 and the book was under Kindle Unlimited, it is no longer available via Kindle Unlimited.  While I’ve only read the book in little patches, it’s been a huge player in my writing life.  This book got me thinking about self publishing Follow Me: Tattered Veils back when my first draft was cut open and bleeding all over my keyboard.  It made me take publishing my book seriously and encouraged me to research an editor and cover artist.  It lead me to think of marketing and promotion in new and more positive ways.  Anyone who feels sensitive about pitching their creative whatever, should check out this book.

2. The Foretelling:  Did you know that Alice Hoffman has some of her books on Kindle Unlimited?  The Foretelling is a stunning example of everything I love in Hoffman’s work.  Her narratives are thoughtful and dreamlike.  I feel like I’m swimming though her work and it spins a story I don’t want to put down until the last page.  Then I just want to sit in silence and hold onto the feelings her style inspired in me. 

I argued with myself whether this book belongs in the liked or loved category.  I love Hoffman’s narrative style and as a result I love everything I’ve ever read by her.  However, some of her works are more compelling than others.  I recommend The Foretelling to Hoffman fans, to people who like Amazon myths, and to people who like alternative history stories.  I loved the work, but I can admit the subject material isn’t super compelling outside of Hoffman fan-girling and girl power circles.

3. The Last Black Unicorn:  I’ve wanted to read this book for years, but not enough to shell out $11.99.  When I saw it hit Kindle Unlimited, I scooped it up.  Overall the book was mid-range.  There were parts where the narrative dragged, but then there were a ton of funny and compelling elements too.  I waffled on placing this book because I almost put the book down three times and if I had stopped reading at those points; I don’t think I’d have lost much.

Still it’s a solid book.  Both funny and poignant.  If you enjoy rooting for an underdog, you’ll like this book.

What Disappointed:

1. The Forest of Embers: This book took a series I loved and made me feel “meh” about the whole thing.  I don’t know if I will pick up the next in the series when it comes out, and that’s a shame.

The book was clumsy.  It jumps forward in time but what it skips over seems more interesting than the story it tells.  Elements of it seem shoehorned in.  This whole gods and dragons part introduced doesn’t feel like it meshes with the faery magic, magic people, or in between that was originally introduced.  Part of what made the story so good was a cohesive world and this book has a lot in it that doesn’t feel like it belongs in the same universe.

Characters don’t feel familiar or beloved.  Personalities and views I’d seen develop and change over seven books were turned back so we could reread the same character arc or create artifical tension.  There’s a continuation of a love triangle that for my money was decided back in book four.  

The book is a mess. I wish we’d gotten a same world with new characters or even something entirely unrelated.  Roethle is a talented writer, but this wasn’t good.

2. Sara Fine: I’m not Fine’s audience and I have to accept that.  I like her writing style a lot.  There are flashes in her work I want more of and that’s rare enough that I read through many over her books (2 this year and 3 last year).  However the juvenille tone (which is perfect for her target audience), the mushy romanticism (again what people are there for), and the problematic tropes are too much for me.  I won’t pick her up again.  5 books is enough to teach me these lessons.

I would recommend Beneath the Shine and Sanctuary for teens, but her Reliquary series is too problematic for me to recommend it to anyone. 

3. Rebelborn: Another disappointing conclusion to an otherwise great series.  Bartol kind of wrote herself into a corner here (I say that but I have three different stories I would have preferred to read from this setup).  This story has pretty much everything I didn’t like about the last 2 movies in the matrix series crammed into it. 

There isn’t the same moral gray area in this book that the other two offered.  This book isn’t thoughtful.  It doesn’t encourage the readers to think on the use of technology, or what it means to staunchly support a side even when it’s no longer doing good.

It has a weird “solution” to the love rectangle it introduced that felt a lot like having one’s cake and eating it too.  And the book overlooks abusive behavior or stalking behavior from two of the love interests.  We never address that all three of the love interests at some point physically hurt and intimidate Roselle.  We don’t address the verbal abuse or possessivenenss of these characters.  Like kudos for being sex positive but major boo in understanding what’s romantic and what’s creepy/unhealthy.  Being in the middle of a war only excuses so much. 

It has a weird solution to character deaths I didn’t like.  And it uses a version of a comic book multi-verse that feels more cheap somehow. 

After the first third of the book, there’s no sense of tension or stakes.  Everything wraps up neat, clean, and happy. If you write a book where a massive war and implied genocide happens, it can not be all sunshine and rainbows in the ending.

Another young adult book series I looked forward to recommending but unfortunately can’t recommend.

Behind the Scenes: Writing "Melody's Crescendo"

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This post speaks to my personal writing process for “Melody’s Crescendo” and it contains spoilers for that work.  For a deeper understanding of the elements included or explained in this post please read my flash fiction (it’s short and free ^_^).

Our writers’ group looks at open calls for submission and all of us write toward one of the prompts together.  We share were we are in process, provide feedback on how each person took the same prompt in a different direction, and encourage each other to submit out completed stories.  

Melody’s Crescendo hatched from a call for action stories. Zach Standfield picked out this prompt.  It’s little surprise since he writes crime themed stories, that he thought a call for a short action story would be ideal. The other writers in my group have their stories from this exercise published.  I felt it was only fair Melody’s Crescendo see the light of day too.

Writing short, action driven narratives is not my strong suit (see what I write instead here).  I ramble and my interests align with themes and ideas more than actions or characters.  But I wasn’t about to admit I couldn’t write a short action piece, so I workshopped some ideas.  Both my mother and my husband had to hear a plethora of pitches and complaints for this prompt.  But I'm not a quitter and no one will ever accuse me of not completing a prompt (though chances are good I'll violate the spirit of the prompt just to be contrary ^_~).

The action genre has a lot of leading dudes.  War and spy movies come to mind first when someone says “action genre” with “crime fiction” a close third. I knew I wanted to subvert those expectations.  So I made my main character female, and I dropped her into college.  

I set the event at a party because I wanted my character to be the 'good guy'.  If Melody hunts out her ex, then she’s looking for trouble.  If she’s in her sorority house enjoying a party and the ex shows up, he’s the asshole.  Because the fight happened in Melody's home turf there's underlying tension to the scene.  If Melody isn't safe here, where can she retreat to?  Is this one bad relationship going to chase her out of college?  

There’s a lot of swearing.  College drinking culture = potty mouth (tell me I’m wrong youth).

The names were the most fun part of this story.  Melody is in my top twenty girls' names or all times, and the plays off the name seemed to flow. Her friend’s name is Robin because we know birds for chirping melodic beats.  

The work itself: Melody’s Crescendo refers to a musical notation that looks like < under a few stanzas of music.  It’s meant to indicate how a song gradually gets louder throughout the marking.  Melody’s story gets louder until she’s thrown in the bathroom.  I wanted to title the work “Melody’s Accelerando Crescendo” because the story beats pick up speed and volume, but that’s not a pretty title.  Plus, it’s a little on the nose.  

Music interests me in relation to an action based story because it has inherent movement without violence. I liked the nod to nonviolent action even if I wrote a story that incorporates a fight scene. I also like music because fight scene are choreographed like a dance.  I don't have to explain the connection between music and dance or how choreographing a fight is pretty much what I did for this story, right?  These were little elements to keep me engaged in writing something I'd usually avoid.

I held onto the Melody’s Crescendo for years without ever submitting it for publication.  My genre niche is in fantasy and there are no fantastic elements in this story.  Melody’s Crescendo leans into my 'feminist agenda,' or feels like it does anyway since the story covers rape, domestic abuse, and female friendship.  It’s a good story, but I didn’t want to be the girl author who writes about women.  More recently, I’ve seen how stupid that is.  I am an author who writes about “women’s issues” (FYI these are human issues not women only ones and I hate that anytime you want to speak about them you have to label them women's issues) and female identity. While I don’t think it’s my primary goal in work, it’s in all my writing.  Melody's Crescendo doesn't have the luxury of fantastic elements to couch some of the issues my protagonist faces, but her story shares more commonalities than different with other characters I've written.  

I hope you enjoyed Melody’s Crescendo and thanks for your curiosity in how it came together.  For more short stories try Halloween Spirit  (an about is here) or our writer’s group round robin with my ending.  

Melody's Crescendo

Melody’s Crescendo

by Jessica Donegan

Cheers erupt in the cold Beta Girls' basement.  Melody dances uncoordinated, out of time with the music, but with her team.  Loose-limbed humming victory flushes.  This is her flip cup team's 12th consecutive win, and she thinks her girls might catapult her into the Beta Girl's Hall of Fame.  The longest streak this basement has ever seen was 52 games.  Twelve is practically half way there!  Melody never met River or her team, they'd graduated three years before Melody was even applying for college, but she knows those girls had to be light weights.  Only a measly 52 games and they'd puked it all back up.  River's team should have had a longer streak, but they didn’t their liquor.  

Not Melody's team. Through careful selection, she chose girls both competent at the game and able to drink all night without breaking the seal.  These girls could stay conscious through fucking elephant tranquilizers.  And, they were the meanest nastiest girls Beta had ever rushed.  Heavy set, muscled, and squat.  Nobody would flirt with one of these bitches or even pity fuck them.  No wandering dicks to distract them from the game.   

The Beta boys had enough of losing to their sister chapter.  Ready to concede defeat, they shuffled out of the way.  A few of them throw encouraging happy grins at Melody and her team.  Not everyone played to win.  Flip cup is often a social game meant more to pass time and get bored students a happy drunk. 

Pines boys team shuffles up.  In passing, Melody wonders why she and the girls have to run through all the boys' teams first.  Girls are better at flip cup than boys, it's a truth sure as the sky being blue.  But boys will continue to take losses until a girl needs to grip the table with one hand while her spiked heels scramble on suddenly slick concrete.  They'll use the other hand to continue to play and still make that boys' team look like the saddest lightweights ever to grace the hallowed game table.  But the point is—no—really there is no point.  There's only this night and this game.  Melody is going all the way.

And as happens these days, the world shifts around Melody.  The worst thing that could happen to her is right across from her.  Melody's ex, aptly renamed Poop Deck by his Frat bros, is staring her down yet again.  That cocky gaze is stripping her bare.  His half smirk lingers on bruises still healing from their last altercation.  He knows what he did—what he does over and over with whoever he wants.  Melody's terrible luck was that at one point, she was something he wanted.

 Seeing him is like being hit with cold water.  The shock clings as she stares back at that mocking and taunting face.  Everyone around her knows, and no one will do shit about it.   

Her team is shifting with tension.  The boys laugh nervously.  “Is this ok?” the sounds seem to ask even though of course the fuck it's not.

Melody forces numb lips into a smile and she bobs her head and squares her shoulders.  She stands her full 5'2"—no 5'11" in these heels.  Even with the extra height she's still a good head shorter than Poop Deck.  No wonder he thinks he can do whatever.  

Well, not here.  Not tonight.     

The rounds are going faster than before.  Either the Pines boys are terrible or Melody's team is in a rush.  Seems like both.  Melody may avoid eye contact, but she knows his eyes have never moved from her.  Skin crawling, she feels grimy in a way even the dirtiest basement doesn’t inspire.  

 Once they finish the lineup, they can demand the other team to fuck off and let someone else play.  Usually, teams square off till one of them tires of playing, but Melody isn't about to stand here with her ex's eyes boring into her skull for hours.  

 Finally, Melody meets his eyes when it’s their turn to share a hand shake.  He has a big sloppy grin that tells Melody he'd drank his way through a twenty-four rack before even hitting the party.  She remembers how much he likes to pre-game.  Loves to be out of his mind.  The disgusting shit stain can't deal with what he's done to all those women when he's sober. 

Sloppy, he raises his hand for the first part of their shake.  Intros to flip cup rounds can be as complex or simple as the two squaring off make them.  Melody is hoping for a brief touch of hands and she's startled when that strong hand pulls her in. His face locks with hers in what a stupid person would call a kiss.  Melody can hear the cackles and whistles.

Melody pulls back as soon as she has the balance for it.  Even as her face retreats, her left arm is swinging in towards Poop Deck's throat.  The connection hurts her hand even through the numb tingles of booze.  If those bugged eyes and gaping mouth are anything to go on, the punch hurt Poop Deck more than her.  

Right hand free of his crushing grip, red subsumes Melody.  She's lifting the card table and plows it into Poop Deck and the dumbfounded Frat bros. Melody has a hazy sense of her team backing away from the game.  They are circling and closing rank, destroying any chance a saner person may intervene.  Melody spares a moment to admire her team.  Twenty games in and sober enough to back away from the table, definitely the right team to beat a fifty game winning streak.  Maybe next party they'll get a chance.  

Now Melody is swinging at Poop Deck's face.  All her momentum is forward.  She's half victorious and half terrified.  If he regains his footing if he finds an opening—he's going to fucking kill her.  But Melody commits.  If she can, she'll end him first.   

Poop Deck staggers to the side and Melody's forward motion sends her sailing against the unfinished cement basement wall.  She can feel him moving to strike her exposed back.  In a rush, she launches herself to the left and away from where she thinks he’ll next attack.  His hands scrapes against the rough wall Melody once occupied.  He grabs a fistful of her hair.  

Melody screams as he yanks her like a doll.  She tries to back step.  Her heels dig into ancient dirt, trying to keep her from sliding closer.  Her scalp is on fire and chunks of hair pull loose.  It's not enough.  He has Melody against his chest and is forcing his mouth over hers as she pushes and scratches at him.  

Melody is flung from Poop Deck.  Sprawled on the floor, knees, and hands bloody, she takes far too long to realize what's happened.  Lucky, her Beta sister, jumped on top of Poop Deck from behind.  Her legs wrapped around his waist, one arm around his neck choking him, and the other pummeling blows to his eyes and nose.   Melody’s arms sprawl trying to find a weapon as she totters upright.  

The bat rolls out of the gloom.  No time to thank whoever armed her, Melody stalks back towards Poop Deck.  He's busy dealing with Lucky, but not for much longer.  He's squeezing the girl against the wall.  As Melody approaches, his huge hands find Lucky’s head and slam it against the cement.  She slides away limp and unconscious.  

Melody steps in and swings.  A solid connection with Poop Deck's face.  He reels to the side, away from Lucky.  Vicious joy runs through Melody as she steps towards Poop Deck and aims her next blow for her ex's lower ribs.  The crack in connecting is sweet as jungle juice and twice as gritty.  She's panting in exertion.  Sweat beads and steam rises from her.  

Poop Deck is still moving.  Struggling to rise.  Melody leans on the bat like a cane.  She's having trouble getting enough air, but she knows one fact.  She is not letting Poop Deck get up.  Stiletto heels stomp his braced hand.  

Poop Deck howls.  Sweet music in Melody's scarred mind.  Her joy at his pain disgusts her.  Careful of her own balance, she lifts the bat overhead, intent on slamming it down on his unprotected face.  If this doesn't put him down, nothing will.   

Restraining arms wrap around hers and pull her from her prey.  Melody screeches, terrified of the hands.  She struggles.  

"No, no no no no no no no no NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"  she babbles.  Adrenaline's clarity is leaving her, and she's back in flashing nightmares of all the other times someone's grabbed her and held her down.  She kicks. 

Someone behind her swears angry as her elbow connects.  The jolt running through her own body isn't pleasant, but it drives her frenzy.  She tries to bite at hands around her arms, but they shift and adjust.  Flung in a bathroom alone, Melody throws herself at the door and screams murder.  No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.  

Sick with anxiety, Melody pukes.  She falls to her knees, defeated.  This is the end, and she knows it.  He'll survive and once he has his balance, he'll be back on her.  Why would this time be any different?  Tears slide, there's no one to see and no reason to hide.  She's never hurt him like this, but even the little cuts, he's returned in triplicate.  She shudders at the thought.  Will she be a closed casket?  Eyes swollen shut and nose disfigured beyond recognition.

Someone knocks and Melody shuffles as far away from the door as she can.  

"Melody sweetness,"  her roommate, Robin, queries.  

Melody stays quiet.  She steps towards the door, turns the knob, and opens the door.

Robin stands alone and uncertain.  She shifts from one heel to the other and chews her lip.  

"Hey Hon, I brought you a pair of flats and a jacket," Robin offers, holding a bundle in front of her like a shield.  

Wary for traps, Melody scans her.  Her brain isn't keeping up with current events.  A week ago Robin was with her at a party leaning against Poop Deck and telling him how charming he was.  If she could turn on him, what makes Melody think she won't trick her too?  Critical eyes sweep Robin, but no matter how long Melody stares, she doesn't see the dagger hiding, ready to strike. 

Tears flow from Robin's eyes and tumble down her face.  "I didn't know," she rushes.  

"No, that's not true is it?"  Bitterness darts and her lips draw in.  Melody and Robin share shadows of so many past events.  Little slaps excused as drunken mistakes, large handprints hidden by a series of scarves but no roommate could miss, and mean, cruel, terrible remarks sprinkled across the past year.  Robin knew.  

"I didn't understand and I'm sorry I took so long to get it,"  Robin fills.  

"But," a long hesitation and Robin looks away embarrassed.  "I'm here now.  You don't have to be alone if you don't want to."  

Melody isn't sure what she will do, only that she's moving.  And she's hugging Robin, her best friend again.  Relief is rushing through her thick and sweet like honey.  She doesn't know what will happen, but Melody thinks she can stop carry her terror alone.