Review of John Zunski's Shangri-La Trailer Park

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Have you ever marveled at how Coltrane can take squeaks and squeals, seemingly discordant explosions of sound, and roll them out into an experience of sublime musical beauty? That’s how Shangri-La reverberated in my senses. More than the sum of its parts, the story takes some pretty distasteful dysfunction squealing and squawking its way through to another plane – an ethereal co-ordinate where the dream world and the consciousness fuse into a continuum.

I hate the gratuitous violence and sadism that has become a mainstay of our present day entertainment. I hate most what it speaks about the depravity of our tastes, the lows of human desire unplugged; the ancient beast in us fed the raw bloody feast of its nature. But gratuitous shock value is not what I found here – not once all the parts of this literary fusion had been put into place. As when listening to a masterful improv composition, one knows in the end that not a single false note has been played.

Not for everyone’s taste, Shangri-La Trailer Park is going to upset some people. This is the raw of life with no candy coating to get it down. Beware, though. These characters may capture you even as the repulsion towards them makes you want to put the book down. There’s no doubt they are real – maybe that’s the hardest pill to swallow.

As the trailer park occupants go about their painfully dysfunctional lives, the protagonist, Maistoinna, a Blackfoot from the north country of Montana, operates on a different plane. Fully modern, armed with all the smart talk and flippant slang he needs to keep trailer park culture at bay, this quirky anti-James Fenimore Cooper NDN has his act together as he communicates with his bear clan spirit guide with all the playful familiarity of a family member.

John Zunski is a fine word smith, and a composer of beauty from the rough stuff of life.

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Now, I would like to welcome author John Zunski.  He's here to answer a few questions for us.  Thanks for being with us today, John.

Thank you for having me.  Nice to be here, Georgia

John, on Jodie Brownlee’s blog, Dr. Niamh Clune said that you have the ability to tune a word until it resonates. Please share with us how you achieve that. Does it come out like that the first time you transcribe it from your muse, or do you have to go back and add the special touches to your wording? 
Mark Twain once said that the difference between the right word and the almost right word was like the difference between lightning and the lightning bug. Do you consult a Thesaurus to find the exact word that will fit?

Remind me to thank Niamh for her kind words. The question reminds me of the old joke, how do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice… Practice… Practice… I wish words would slide out of the dictionary and fall into their proper place within an arrangement, but where’s the fun in that? I love the challenge of orchestration; I have a masochistic tendency to agonize over words and spend an inordinate amount of time searching for the right one(s). That’s the artist in me, if I tried to play guitar my fingers would get stuck in the strings, if I tried to paint, well, I can’t draw stick figures. But with words, there’s time and a delete key. If a word doesn’t resonate, it’s to the recycle bin. Do I consult a Thesaurus? You bet I do, I love thesauruses – when I bought my first one, I remembered thinking that I must be serious about the writing neurosis. For me, a correctly placed word resonates like a musician striking a perfect note. Musicians, writers, we’re all storytellers - whatever the discipline, I’m of the opinion that it’s an accomplishment to tell a story, it’s bliss to tell a story beautifully.

Well said.  Do you ever get writer’s block? If so, what is your method for overcoming it?

When I feel blocked up, experience tells me the story hasn’t percolated in my subconscious long enough. I’ve learned to give myself space and time. That doesn’t mean I don’t write, I simply switch gears, and work on a secondary project. Another idiosyncrasy is I don’t listen to the radio while driving. Instead, I entertain myself with details of whatever I’m working on. For me, my plots are often more engaging and I don’t have to endure commercials.

I'll have to keep that in mind next time I'm blocked.  

Stephen King, in his “Memoir of the Craft”, On Writing, says that writing is telepathy. Could you remark on that concept in regards to Shangri-La Trailer Park?

On Writing is my bible and I wholeheartedly subscribe to King’s theories, especially that of the archeological dig. Do I really believe that stories exist in the ether and it’s the writer’s job to transcribe them? No, I don’t, but it’s a neat metaphorical jujitsu trick. I’ve found that if I believe that I’m unearthing a preexisting story, it somehow frees my mind of the burden of creative responsibility. I don’t get wigged out thinking that I’m responsible for everything. I lie to myself and say that it already exists and I simply have to uncover the story. What a great way to quiet the nagging voice of self-doubt. That being said, the theory doesn’t absolve me from the responsibilities of research. In regard to Shangri-La Trailer Park, that meant learning about Blackfoot culture, diction, and legend. Every story I conjure, I immerse myself in a topic that I know nothing about and try to master it well enough to tell a convincing story.

Sounds like a lot of work goes into your novels.  In interviews at the beginning of your tour, you expressed a bit of anxiousness about how the detailed rape scene would be received. How has the feedback you’ve received so far affected that concern?

Actually, I haven’t had any negative feedback… yet. But, it’s very early in the game. I do think, the warning that I plastered in the blurb deters many who may find it a deal breaker. I don’t believe in placing a superfluous word in a sentence so why would I place an unnecessary scene in a story? The scene is designed to demonstrate the perpetrator’s psychotic tendencies and allow the reader to build anger and resentment towards him.
My major source of angst is alienating those who have read Cemetery Street and are expecting Shangri-La Trailer Park to be similar. That being said, they are similar in that both will test readers - Cemetery Street will try a reader’s heart; Shangri-La Trailer Park will try a reader’s mores. In the end, if a reader passes both tests, they will be rewarded with memorable stories.

I have a feeling your readers are going to follow your talent no matter what genre you choose to explore.   Thanks for being on with us today and wishing you much success in all your endeavors.

My pleasure, Georgia. On my blog, there's a button where you can listen to my last radio interview.  It was on Blog Talk.    http://www.johnzunski.wordpress.com/

We'll have to take a listen to that.  Folks, this is John's last stop on the  

Orangeberry Book Tour.   

In case you've missed some of the stops and would like to go back and read more about this fascinating artist, I'm including a list here of some great interviews he's had along the tour.  
 

11/14/11 Interview with John Zunski

http://www.jodiebrownlee.blogspot.com/2011/11/interview-with-author-john-zunski.html

11/16/11  John talks about his other book, Cemetery Street

http://www.ravinaandreakurian.com/p/book-shelf-spotlight.html?spref=fb

11/19/11 Meet and Greet

http://theobblog.com/meet-john-zunski/

11/20/11 Interview

http://joeyavniel.wordpress.com/2011/11/20/author-of-the-week-john-zunski-shangri-la-trailer-park/

11/24/11 Guest Post   John’s Theories about 2012

http://madmoosemama.blogspot.com/2011/11/guest-post-john-zunski-author-of-shagri.html

Review of Joey Avniel's One-Legged Seagull

I had the great pleasure of reading a review copy of The One-Legged Seagull, a Warrior's Journey to Inner Peace. Here is my “always honest” review of this work.

In a nutshell: A nuclear family is caught up in another round of routine bickering that is robbing them all of happiness and peace.  An extended family member is determined to help bring harmony back to the fold.  He tells a story about his own battle with failure and standing up to fear by relating a conversation he had as a youth with a mysterious, wise old man named Simon Master, whom he met in a park. 

In a personal way, I found it interesting that the story takes place in Israel, a land associated with that Granddaddy of so many religions and philosophical concepts – Judaism.  It felt weird at first to have a Yoda/Luke Skywalker - Miyagisan/Karate Kid type conversation going on in that background.  Maybe it wouldn’t affect others that way, but it messed with my own hard-wiring in a pleasantly convention-shaking way that let a little fresh air into a shut up room – numbers of established electrical synapses sent scattering into new arrangements.  I liked that, for starters. 

Mr. Avniel’s concepts appear to come from further East, though.  I thought I recognized some kinship to Taoism {wu wei (action through inaction)} in his new rules for staying peaceful through all the rigors and disappointments that life can throw your way.  They are useful rules, too.  After finishing only half of this book, I found myself applying his advice – or rather – Simon’s advice, to the little mental matters that came up.  A bit of “hands-on” experience later, I decided these ideas were indeed effective for calming mini storms at psychological sea. 

I’m not going to spoil it for you by telling you what those new widgets are; you’ll have to take a look for yourself.  For the cost of the smallest bottle of headache pills at Walmart, you can own all the gadgets in this Angst-reducing tool box. 

 

Artists, in particular, should not be without these methods for standing the stress dynamic on its head and possibly releasing creative flow in a new direction.

After all, tricks for staying sane in this crazy world are something you can’t have too many of.  I swear by self-hypnosis myself, but I’m never averse to having a few more torque drivers in my mind-bending kit.  I would definitely recommend this book.

 Well, that’s my take on the book.  I’m pleased to have Joey Avniel here today to tell us more about himself and his work. Joey, could you come out of the headstand just a moment and sit in a chair for us?  It's just a bit distracting talking to an upside down mouth.  

Sure, Georgia. (follows a light landing and Joey takes a seat)

Oh, much better.  Welcome, Joey.  Tell us, please, how you would convince someone to read your book in 140 characters or less?

Imagine life without stress; just pure peace and bliss. You don’t need to imagine. I can show you how to create it. It's gonna be fun!
That already sounds interesting!  If you want to help people why did you write fiction? Why not a self-help book?

I didn’t finish most of the self-help books I bought. They usually have too much information and it’s hard to remember anything once you’re done reading. Fiction is entertaining, you get emotionally invested in the story and it’s easier to remember and even feel what you read. My mother had a tough decision to make the other day, she told me: “Simon wouldn’t do that.” Simon is the wise person in the story. It’s easy to remember his insights since he feels so real.

So, can you tell us what the main lesson is in your book?

The main lesson is that you can’t find peace, you need to create it. And you better find your own unique way to do it. Of course there are many things we can all do to have more peace and I talk about them in the book. But, each one of us is unique and therefore needs to find his own unique way.

What can you tell me about your ideal reader?

My ideal reader is an open minded person. He’s fed up with the drama in his life and is ready to try new ways to get new outcomes. She is not looking for a new set of instructions, but willing to walk a new path and find her own way.
I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would like new outcomes.  Tell us, Joey, when did you know you were going to be an author?

I never thought I was going to be a writer, especially not in English. In fact literature and English were my worst grades in school. One night I woke up with a story and I couldn’t go back to sleep until I started to write it down.

That sounds like a pretty serious muse.   Joey, could you tell us one unique thing about yourself that no other author in the world (as far as you know) shares.

I’m dyslexic and writing in my second language (English). I think this is quite unique. I used many of the tools that I wrote about in my story, in order to overcome my One-Legged Seagull, which is my metaphor for the weaknesses we all have.

That’s incredible! You overcame quite a bit to turn out a well-written text.  You can be very proud of that accomplishment.  What was your happiest moment as an author?

When my dad asked me if he can buy a copy to gift a friend. Just a few years ago we almost didn’t talk. I never thought he would read my book. I could truly see at that moment, that when you work on your own inner peace you create peace and appreciation around you.
What a great story!  Re-establishing a relationship with an estranged family member is important to a lot of people.  If you could choose one super power, what would it be and why?
I would like to have the power to show people scenes from their past. I mean, be able to hold their hand and show them a vision of something that happened to them and they can see it as an observant. The past is the best teacher we have, especially if we look at it from a different perspective.
So true.  If you could talk to your readers while they are reading your book, what would you tell them?

I would tell them not to rush with the reading. The story feels light, but it gets very deep with the insights. They would make me happiest if they read it twice.
Which author influenced you the most?

There are too many. The first one I read was Richard Bach, so I guess he was the gate for me reading my genre. If I need to pick one, I would go with Donald Neal Walsh. I love how he arranges his insights and uses the conversation to show his point.

What’s the funniest line you ever wrote?

I think humor is the best way to entertain so my book is full of funny lines, it’s hard to choose. I think it’s funny how my wise character, who talks about peace, has a friend he refers to as “Evil Alfred.” They always fight about something. Finally, the kid in story asks him: “You explained that there’s no right or wrong. It’s all just a point of view. So how come you call Alfred evil?” I find it funny. Many times I see people preaching about something and then doing the opposite.

What’s next?

There is a second book that I’m working on. It’s about life after death. But before that I want many readers to be exposed to my book. I want them to use my book to find their own path to be at peace. I see so much drama around me; people fight with each other and seem to always be stressful. I want to help them find the path to change that.

I want to thank you for appearing on my blog with your enlightening book.  We’ll be looking forward to hearing more from you in the future. 

Joey Avniel’s One-Legged Seagull is available at Amazon

 

You can read Joey’s other interviews on the Orangeberry Book Tour here:

http://johnzunski.wordpress.com/2011/11/07/joey-avniel-pays-a-visit/

http://celebratingauthors.blogspot.com/2011/11/independent-voice-celebrates-joey.html?spref=tw

http://theobblog.com/transformational-joey-anviel/

You can stalk Joey here:

http://oneleggedseagull.com

http://facebook.com/JoeyAvniel

http://twitter.com/joeyavniel

DELILAH RESCUES BUCKY FROM HIS DRAMA



LOVE THIS! SO CUTE. AND IT TELLS HOW JOEY'S BOOK CAN BENEFIT YOU.

Friday Follow November 25, 2011

Q: Yesterday it was Thanksgiving Day in the U.S. so we want to know what you are Thankful for – blogging related of course! Who has helped you out along the way? What books are you thankful for reading?

I am thankful for blog hops like this one that help me get to know other bloggers interested in books.  

I am thankful for the many bloggers who joined in the Orangeberry Book Tour (where I am on tour all month) to feature indie authors. http://www.orangeberrybooktours.com/2011/10/georgia-saunders.html 

 

I am thankful for the chance to get to know other authors and present their materials here on my blog.

I have too many books I am thankful for to list here, so I'll just be thankful for the public library that has made my life-long love of reading possible.  If you look towards the bottom of my sidebar you will see a list of one hundred of my favorite books.  There are plenty more.  So you can see why I cannot list them here.  I'm thankful for every last one of them!

 

 

GEORGIA SAUNDERS OPENS UP

CONTINUED FROM KAREN POKRAS TOZ' REVIEW OF HOME STREET HOME AND INTERVIEW : 

After hearing about your book, I’m sure my readers would like to hear more about you, the author.  Could you share a bit about yourself?

Sure.  I was homeless for over three years in Virginia Beach.  Before that, the only writing I’d done was in my personal journals, though I’ve always been an avid reader of good literature.  After I became homeless, I found I could endure being cramped up in a small room with up to 100 feisty and sometimes drunk people, if I concentrated on trying to accurately describe interpersonal dynamics I was experiencing or observing.  It was really just an escape at first.  Not satisfied with my work, I began to check books from the library about how to write better, and revisit works by favorite authors such as Steinbeck , London, Twain and Dickens to name just a few, to inform my own scribbling.  Everything was hand-written in a notebook at first and was completely for my own education, amusement and sanity.

During most of my homeless experience, I was living in a car, then a van and I was in and out of hotels with my then boyfriend.  He had some issues with substance abuse, but tried to keep me off the street most of the time by working at construction jobs.  They were usually short-term projects, anyway, but it didn’t help that he would binge and lay out of work every so often.  I was also working part-time, cashiering, but that was really just enough for gas and car expenses.  It’s difficult to pay the large deposit on top of the first month’s rent, and the rental properties in this area are tightly controlled by credit rating.  When I became homeless, I wasn’t able to keep up with credit card payments, so I was like that short guy in the Hannibal Lecter mask picking his ears on the freecreditscore.com commercial.
 Even when we had money, we couldn’t get housing except in hotels.  It was a really unstable situation for me and I often despaired there was just no way out.

Get a better boyfriend, you say?  Most of the men in the streets were about the same or worse – and so many were about finding a woman to make their lives easier.  I don’t play that, nor do I play musical chairs, so sticking to the devil I knew seemed the relatively best choice.  Looking for a relationship outside of the community while homeless is not a good idea.  As soon as a housed date knows your situation, you lose value and become more vulnerable to the power games that are played on the dating scene.  When you are in a vulnerable survival situation, you can’t afford to take those risks. 

How did you decide to write your first book?

You know that old adage about necessity being the big mama of invention?  When I thought how my minimum wage job worked part-time was NOT going to get me off the street, and when I realized that above mentioned BF was only going to keep driving me insane, I thought about where my best opportunity for using my talents lay.  Big AHA moment – turn your love of literature and writing into a book about all the difficulties of being homeless.  After I got that idea, I researched and found there were a huge number of books about homelessness already on the market.  And every last one was non-fiction: either documentaries or memoirs.  Reading some of the “look inside” excerpts, I thought they seemed to almost vie with each other for increasingly shocking and horrific details of homeless life.  Sadly, these kinds of details are never lacking in street life.  But, honestly, I thought, “how can so much literature be available on the terrible experience of homelessness, and the public still mostly pigeon-hole homeless people as some kind of “other” species of human – who somehow want to be Willy and Wilma the hobos?”

I thought this over and came up with this answer – fiction!  Examples such as Grapes of Wrath, Oliver Twist and Uncle Tom’s Cabin flooded my brain with inspiration.  Abolitionists sent out non-fictional information about the horrors of slavery for decades, but it wasn’t until the fictional story of Uncle Tom and little Eva touched the public’s heart that an outcry was achieved.  Why is that?  I can only suppose that there is a deeper empathy with a character by the reader, because of the illusion of being inside the head and experience of said, than can be achieved with a non-fictional rendering of a story of suffering, no matter how horrific.  Maybe it is the sheer volume of the suffering portrayed in these (excellent) non-fictional accounts that numbs readers, like overworking produces blisters.  

I’m thinking it has something to do with the reader creating an alter-ego identification with the story character and actually experiencing a virtual journey.  Whatever it is, it is observable in the effect on society in all my above examples: Grapes of Wrath produced a new public awareness of the Okies’ plight, just as Oliver Twist had popularized awareness of the child abuse culture in the underworld of London’s criminal classes a century before that.  It’s interesting to note that Jack London, very popular and well-read in his day, actually did a non-fictional account of the horrific conditions in the East End of London called “The People of the Abyss”.  It never took off the way his works usually did.  Go figure.

What was the writing experience like for you?

Ha, ha.  Can you spell “h” “e” double hockey sticks?  Imagine trying to transcribe pages - no, notebooks - of handwritten text to a word doc in two hour increments at the library.  Can’t tell you how many times I would lose myself in my typing towards the end of the two hours and neglect to save that last bit of work.  The computer would suddenly go off and I would lose some of my work.  And I do hate typing.  Very uncoordinated, I am.
Anyway, when I got the idea to turn my writing into a novel, my first obstacle was selling my BF on it because he couldn’t understand why he was out working every day and I was sitting around comfortably in the hotel room filling notebook after notebook with text and lists and outlines and character types.  I had to do my first promotions, so to speak, to convince him that I could actually make some money doing this that would translate into more.  Never mind the fact that I had to convince myself.  Talk about false bravado! 

I must have done a good job of convincing him, especially when an old friend of mine who has done some pro writing in the past, agreed to edit my first manuscript.  I had to throw in a bit of blarney about how this friend had contacts in Hollywood, etc…I know, I know…I’m so ashamed…;-)…but that’s what the street does to you – you know you got to hustle your little tushka off.   My BF actually bought an old computer for me to start writing directly to Word.  That was when I really started gaining ground.  Trouble was; he would get jealous because I was on-line (starting to get my social networking accounts lined up for future promotions) and/or writing all the time, and I didn’t want the TV on so loud. Remember, we are in one room, when we are not in the street.  And not being together for compatibility but survival, his taste in TV (which could not be turned off even at night) ran to World Wide Wrestling and such ascetic horrors, where mine ran to Shakespeare, Faulkner, Steinbeck and Hemingway and La Santa Paz (the Sacred Quiet).  Irritation, jealousy and plain old-fashioned need to control the female, would lead to him taking away the computer in the middle of a writing flow!  Not to use, mind you - just to hide out of reach so I could see who the big papa bear in the establishment was.  

Anyway, said editor friend was excited about my first manuscript, all 500 pages of double spaced text which I printed and mailed to her at quite an expense ‘cause she couldn’t do e-manuscript reading due to declining health.  (Hadn’t learned the tricks yet.  Never waste money like that, folks!  Had I known about Amazon self-publishing at the time, I could have made up a proof to send her for a small fraction of what I spent on printing and postage.)  She read and edited and moved stuff around and demanded more info here, more character description there, more suspense, more pop, more everything.  I was very lucky to have her, and so are my readers.  

After a rousing break up with BF over taking the computer away during his drunken episode, I went to live with my son and his girlfriend with 4 children in the Diggs Town area of Norfolk.  My son managed to get me a computer and book-making was back in business, even surrounded by many little tykes of extremely good lung power.  Much encouragement from friends in “the hood”, much co-operation from son’s girlfriend, much affection from absolutely precious little tykes all calling me “grandma”, and behold! – a gigantic manuscript emerges.  275K words.  Whew!  

You are self-published, aren’t you?  Why did you decide to self-publish?

Quick answer – three months’ worth of queries dutifully hammered out in the Virginia Beach Oceanfront Library while I was staying in the winter shelter.  The first rejections politely mentioned the absolute impossibility of reviewing a first novel of – gasp! – 275K words.  Followed months of teasing apart the four main characters journeys into three novels of more reasonable length – then another round of queries ensued for volume I, Home Street Home – The Virginia Beach Chronicles, now down to 100K. 
 





“A strong project, but, unfortunately, doesn’t answer our current needs…” and such the like crapola comes rolling in.  Why don’t they just come out and tell me that the only thing selling in the current market is soft porn bodice rippers and blood curdling vampire sex?  I say to myself in sour grapes despair and anguish.  Winter shelter will end in two months.  I’m facing another round of bouncing between a taking up childrens’ space at son’s Mother Hubbard dwelling and trying to deal with the Manic Depression swings of former BF now upgraded/downgraded to “Friend”.  (We were in winter shelter at the same time, but no longer “like that”.)

Comes the solution…editor friend casually sends me an e-mail with Amazon’s self-publishing link.  Whoa!  Do I need to tell you how fast I jumped on that sh*t?  Follows another round of formatting to the needed 5 x 8 template, chapter designations, cover design, etc.  Boom, send to publishing.  Boom, I’m holding a beautiful proof in my hand for the tiny price of eight dollars.  Boom, boom.  I approve the sample and now I’m a published author on Amazon!  Now I’m donating a copy to the very library where I wrote most of it!  Now I’m sending a promo copy to the Virginian Pilot.  Now I’m featured in the Sunday review column as the “Homeless Scribe” 

Then I am given a paid membership in the Hampton Roads Writers.  Then Virginia Beach Public Library buys one copy for every branch to keep up with the demand – all 6 copies are continually checked out. Then I’m getting asked to speak.  Then I find out Norfolk Public Library owns eight copies of Home Street Home and four of them are checked out.  Then I go from sleeping on the benches on the boardwalk, listening to the ocean and peeing in the nasty port-o-potties to having my own sweet little quiet apartment for one. (no TV)  Then my own computer.  Then internet access in my apartment.  And here I am being interviewed by you.

Are you planning to self-publish more books in the future?

Amazon’s low-cost self-publishing saved my life.  You can bet I’ll be publishing more books.  As you can see, I’ve got a whole lot to say! 

I already have the two other volumes of Home Street Home out.  Those are Home Street Home, Volume II – Blondie’s Journals Retrieved and Home Street Home, Volume III – Cutie Doll Tells All.

You can read their back covers here:

  WEBSITE

I wrote a poem about Virginia Beach while homeless.  I used to like to go up to the King Neptune statue and write.  One winter day, I went to visit him and because there were no tourists around, he noticed me.  He allowed ghosts to come up from his realm and tell me the violent battle-filled history of the Chesapeake Bay.
Then he gave me a dire warning for the future. That illustrated poem is on my website here:

THE OCEANFRONT WAS MINE TODAY

When I figure out all the gobbled-gook that I need to know to upload my own art, I will publish this poem for sale on the beach.  I’m also working on a tale of the Black Hills of South Dakota but that is still under wraps.

FRIDAY FOLLOW

 THIS WEEK'S QUESTION:

Q: Letter to Santa: Tell Santa what books you want for Christmas!

I don't celebrate Christmas.  For Chanukah, I would like to  have a new Tanach.

and a new Chumush

 Probably same with the Chumush.  I'm going to look on Chabad.org for their recommended version.

and a CD of Sacred Music that I have always loved:


Sacred Bridges CD

And CD's of the Shacharit Service.  

AND THIS SET CALLED SYNAGOGUE COMPANION

THAT'S WHAT I WANT FOR CHANUKAH.  

Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre - Thriller
Rating - PG13

A Review of Doppelganger Experiment
By Georgia Saunders

This is a psychological thriller that starts out with a woman, Jane Knox, waking up in the hospital with partial amnesia. That’s certainly not a new opening scene; so I was preparing to get a bit sniffy about the overworked premise. But then the writing pulled me into the hospital until I could smell the medicinal atmosphere and see the nurse working over me efficiently. When an orderly spoke to the heroine about things right out of her dreams – a mysterious green building shrouded in mists of memory – I had to know what the heck was going on, and the “hook” had done its job effectively.
An empathy with the heroine’s sense of the weirdness in her new world is built up through sight, sound, memories and her perceptions of people supposed to be her intimates. The author delivers this distorted world in scenes driven by an increasing suspense.
There was one point where the author nearly lost me, though. It was during the heroine’s detailed description of her home – when she has just come home from the hospital with the stranger they say is her husband. I felt like I was following a Better Homes and Gardens Tour, with detailed descriptions of fabrics and furniture styles that were worthy of an interior decorating catalog. It seemed a bit out of place unless the heroine happened to be an interior decorator who would forget all her serious problems the moment she had some décor to describe; which, of course, she was not. That almost broke the spell for me – almost…but when the heroine went right up to the attic to dig in the old boxes of papers, looking for clues to who was who and what was what, I was pulled back in.
Just call me a sucker for a dusty old box of relics…I grew up on Nancy Drew mysteries, so I’m kind of easy anyway, I guess. Not heart-pounding suspense yet, but, “dogonit, what’s going on here” kind of curiosity. Sinister green building, a dis-remembered husband acting schitzy, an orderly turned stalker, and a sick woman trying to remember how it all fits together – Gosh, I feel that way before I have my morning coffee, you know what I mean? So I could relate!
Mystery piled upon mystery, I read on…and on - entranced in the tale. I won’t spoil anything for you. Let’s just say it was a great and satisfying read.

I would be remiss if I did not mention what I consider fairly glaring grammatical and punctuation errors. They were distracting, to say the least, as I mentally found myself correcting sentences. Had the story been less, those problems may have stopped me from reading the whole book. But the narrative had captured me so strongly that I went on, wondering if perhaps I was the one who was hopelessly out of date.