Lovely, lovely, lovely writing makes this heartbreaking novel a gorgeous reading experience. A small town in Romania circa 1939 escapes the advancing threat of Nazi malevolence by imagining (or more accurately 're-imagining') the lives of people in the community. Think "Life is Beautiful" meets Brigadoon with a dash of Inglorious Basterds.
Endorsed by the author's friend, Elizabeth Gilbert, who says: "Her writing doesn't come out on the page feeling like it's been squeezed from the standard-issue literary toothpaste tube."Endorsed by the author's friend, Elizabeth Gilbert, who says: "Her writing doesn't come out on the page feeling like it's been squeezed from the standard-issue literary toothpaste tube."
This phenomenal novel snarls like a grizzly and sings like a lark. Emotional depth and family conflict in the context of a gut-grippingly horrific father-son-grandfather camping trip in Oregon.when it came out a few years ago; it really stuck with me. Percy has a new novel coming out in May, and I can't wait to lay eyes on it. It's just not that often that a book so cinematically exciting comes on with the quality of writing and breadth of character development that Percy delivers here.
Because I've been published by small presses, Big 6 houses and my own digital imprint, my cover designs have been all over the map. I decided to have my novels rebranded, taking a design cue from the austere, high-concept design that was done for my memoir, Bald in the Land of Big Hair.
Highly recommending this unusual novel of love and conflict. The voice and style are unlike anything I've ever read - which might be a challenge for many readers, but for me, it's a strength. The universal aspects of war and love ring painfully, beautifully true.Moral of the story: High school teachers are seldom clairvoyant. I've known authors who've overcome dyslexia, poor spelling, and non-existent grammar skills to go on to great success in spite of "authorities" telling them they'd never make it. The real writer might forever have those "voices of doom" nattering in her head, but she is far too driven to tell her stories to listen to all the "reasons" she should set aside her dreams.
What negative prophecies have you overcome today?
Highly recommending Come In and Cover Me
by Gin Philips, a beautifully written novel about an archeologist with a special connection to the spirits surrounding the artifacts she studies. 
Sitting at my kitchen table catching up on book reviews this week and got an unexpected visit.
Okay, what am I supposed to say that makes you want to read this book more than the title already makes you want to read this book? And why am I the only reviewer out there who thinks these stories are hilarious?
and Ludmilla Petrushevskaya's previous collection, There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbor's Baby: Scary Fairy Tales
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Hey, Houston RWA! Thanks for inviting me to spend another delightful Saturday with you. RWA gatherings have hosted some of my favorite speaking gigs over the years. I'm always in awe of the positive energy, the generosity of spirit and the abundance of talent.
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Naturally, this got me to thinking about the decision trees that take us through our writing lives. Should I stay the course, or abandon this story to pursue an exciting new glimmer? Am I really writing in the genre that best suits my talents, or should I jump to a more commercial niche? Should I sign with this agent or that one? Stay with my publisher or move on? Stick with traditional presses or branch out into indy publishing?
These myriad choices are enough to paralyze a person, especially when you weigh the potential risks and rewards. And as in Frost's poem (see below) there's no way to be certain ahead of time which path is right, but that's no reason to waste your life dithering--or trying to imagine what would have happened if you'd chosen differently.
Instead, recognize that the art of making these decisions is just that, an art and not a science, with a healthy dose of luck thrown in. Allow that mistakes are bound to be made, just as there will sometimes be unforeseen rewards. Go with your gut and, even on those occasions when you do look back on a choice with deep regret, be forgiving of your former self--and remind yourself that you may not yet know the decision's final outcome. I can think of several occasions where I've kicked myself for months over a choice that, in the end, did pay off in surprising ways.
What writing/career decisions have you most angsted over? Did beating yourself up serve you as a warning, or was it just a demoralizing waste of time?
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,--Robert Frost
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Since 1999, when I was first published, I've seen a lot of wallflowers wither. I've watched the careful planners fail, mainly because--and this is especially true in recent years--the industry never stands still, so any sort of strategic career goal-setting ends up a dart thrown at a moving target, a careening, twirling dervish that blinks into and out of Whovian dimensions.
The people I've seen prosper have tended to be those on the vanguard. The earliest arrivals gain momentum, garnering most of the readership (and profits) that have already dried up by the time the timid come on scene.
Sometimes, of course, the quick-to-leap fail. Splattering against hard surfaces is a very real risk when you're traveling at breakneck speed. Sometimes, too, they churn out substandard work that fails to maintain their momentum. But occasionally, they hit a sweet spot, merging opportunity, sweat equity, and attention to their craft.
By nature, I'm a careful planner. I like my known schedules and comfortable routines as much as I fear failure. But in the coming year, I want to grow less cautious and more adventurous, to toss aside a little of my natural reserve and jump on opportunities when they become apparent. I may end up a small splat along a roadside somewhere, but I'll be forced to adapt, to change, to grow into the kind of writer that I hope will shape my future.
Move, or stagnate. Adapt, or die.
Repeated often enough, might these simple mantras forge a spine of steel?
Today's question: What do you most fear as a writer? How can facing this fear help you to move forward?
