The Bastard on the Bookshelf

January 13, 2025January 14, 2025Leave a comment

*Trigger Warning: This post is going to get personal and includes topics that could be triggering, including SA, rape and child abuse. I’ve purposely withheld graphic details, but please proceed with caution.*

“Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them are things people are scared of. Some of them are things that look like things people used to be scared of a long time ago. Sometimes monsters are things people should be scared of, but they aren’t.”

Remember this quote from this post? If you’ve googled the author of said quote lately, the irony here is like a gut punch. Neil Gaiman, as it turns out, has been hiding his own monster for a while.

Somehow I missed the initial accusations leveled against Gaiman in 2024 (to be honest I avoid the news like the plague for my mental health) for sexual assault and rape incidents against five women. Today, I see that number has now reached eight, with the inclusion of child abuse.

Let me tell you, I really didn’t want to read that article. I wanted to throw my phone across the room and rage against people who make false accusations against good people. Because I desperately didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want one of my favorite authors to be yet another man who exploited my trust. And let’s be clear, while these allegations are absolutely horrifying and this pales in comparison, there is an entire fanbase of people who were led to believe Neil Gaiman was “one of the good ones”—a vocal advocate and champion of women and abuse victims. So many of us connected with his work on an emotionally intimate level that now feels grossly violated. Some of us also feel this violation on a whole other level beyond standard disgust.

You see, I am a survivor of rape, sexual assault, and domestic violence. I have CPTSD, severe anxiety, and clinical depression that all stem from various traumas. My abusers were people I was supposed to be able to trust. People in positions of power and authority. My abusers were humans that are loved and seen as good people, “who would never do such a thing.” But people do, in fact, do such horrible, horrible things to each other. So let me make it clear, that when accusations are made against people that seem harmless or above reproach, I will always give presumed victims the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. Would I love to see Neil Gaiman legitimately exonerated? 100 percent. But I’m not holding my breath here. There are too many corroborating details from his victims to not see the truth. My heart breaks for the women who have been hurt by this man. The little girl in me wants to rage for the child caught up in the middle of all this vile behavior.

I’ve seen some posts and statements saying the signs were there all along in his work. It’s dark and twisty, and at times, downright creepy. And maybe this is true. Or maybe it was actually good stuff created by a not-so-good person. I can sit here and tell you all the works of music, art, literature, media, etc. that I’ve loved only to later find out their creators were deeply broken humans who abused others.

Perhaps that’s why this hurts so much. Because some of my best work has stemmed from my own dark and twisty places that I don’t want the world to see. Maybe I innately recognize the traces of pain-inspired art because it calls to something that others broke in me. But I’m also not out here abusing other people behind closed doors for the sake of my art, or any other deviant reason. Over the years it’s become clear to me that there are two types of people who channel personal pain into their art. Those who use it as a means of catharsis, reclaiming autonomy, and healing. And those who treat their pain as a muse, feeding on it like an addict. But sometimes, it’s near impossible to discern where that line exists and you’re blindsided when you finally figure it out.

So what do you do when your heroes fall from grace?

Do you discard their creations, ban or burn their legacies?

Do you separate the art from the artist?

Do you keep the bastard on the bookshelf?

Okay? Okay.

July 1, 2024September 25, 2024Leave a comment

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reviewing books that aren’t exactly “new”. Yes, I love reading the latest and greatest. But sometimes the “greatest” are books that have been around for a while. People have either forgotten about them or they never even crossed their reading radar. And some books were just ignored because a movie was made. A movie that, while good, didn’t quite capture the full feel of things. And I like to feel things. Just ask my family…

Anyways.

When The Fault In Our Stars was published in 2012, I didn’t really pay much attention to the book; until I began to see quotes from the novel continually pop up in my Tumblr feed (yes, I was on Tumblr—don’t judge me). Each of these quotes seemed like such perfect one-liners, and I really am a sucker for those. They’re like pick-up lines for books, just begging to be read. But the one that really snagged my attention was this:

“That’s the thing about pain…it demands to be felt.”

And I suddenly needed to read this book that had managed in only ten words, to frame a concept that would take me at least a page to fully convey.

Yes, this is a love story. But it’s the type of love story that explores the realities of life and loss, and all the pain that goes along with it, and it doesn’t exclude teenagers from understanding what that means. I’ve always held distaste for the belief that young people couldn’t possibly know what love is. I rather like to think they do, that they simply jump in with both feet because they haven’t been burned enough times to know better. If every adult relationship we entered into weren’t tainted with the memory of the ones that failed or the heavy understanding of the work that it takes to maintain a good one, wouldn’t we too be blinded by the overwhelming euphoria of undamaged love? But what makes Hazel and Gus so captivating is that there are no delusions of grandeur. They both know that oblivion is inevitable and that one or both of them isn’t going to survive.

One of the many elements that I enjoy about Green’s writing is that he takes these characters and makes them so damn likable that you wonder if they’re even human. And then he throws in a flaw that so firmly roots them in humanity that you can’t help but like them even more for their faults. Gus is brilliant, charming, clever, and in love with our girl; he’s also got a touch of narcissism that rings true of the boy who knows he could have it all—if only he’d live. And while you can’t blame him for wanting a full extraordinary life, you want to tell him to make the most of what’s left, which is exactly what Hazel does,

“This is all you get. You get me, and your family, and this world. This is your life.”

One of the biggest complaints that people have of the book is that the dialogue often seems too sophisticated for teenagers and that it makes the characters unbelievable. But when you consider that these are kids who spend most of their time with parents and doctors, or alone in their rooms with books like ‘An Imperial Affliction’, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to me that they’re using words not usually found in the average teen’s vernacular. I would also argue that the dialogue and language used throughout are one of the reasons why this book is so appealing across the board. And really, let’s not forget the sarcasm and gallows humor that pervades this entire novel. Personally, I believe that any book that can make me laugh out loud and keep me snickering through my tears deserves my recurring attention. Green is the poster child for using language to drive home the impact of a tale.

I’m not in the habit of highlighting quotes in my books, but if I did, these would be in bright, bold neon:

“I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things.”

“Grief does not change you…It reveals you.”

“The marks humans leave are too often scars.”

“And then there are books…which you can’t tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising that affection feels like a betrayal.”

“I was thinking about the word handle, and all the unholdable things that get handled.”

“Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.”

“You gave me a forever within the numbered days.”

“All I know of heaven and all I know of death is in this park: an elegant universe in ceaseless motion, teeming with ruined ruins and screaming children.”

“We’re as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it, and we’re not likely to do either.”

Oh my god. Just go buy the book.

Cracking the Glass

May 29, 2024July 10, 2024Leave a comment

Many of you know that May is Mental Health Awareness Month. And with only two days left until we jump into June, I wanted to share this book with you.

Is it new? Is it exciting? Not by a long shot. What it is: relevant. As someone caught in the daily clutches of CPTSD, clinical depression, and severe anxiety, this is a book I return to time and again. Because it gets me. And I see so many of my own inner demons in Esther Greenwood.

These topics—especially concerning society and sex and the expectations put upon women AND men—are as important today as they were 50 years ago. And just because it’s not smacking you in the face with the obvious stick, doesn’t mean that mental illness isn’t hiding in those near and dear to your heart.

So the next time you’re wandering your favorite bookstore, stop by that stack of featured classics. Grab yourself a copy of this book, step into the world of a woman battling with her mind and society, and see what resonates. And if you find some familiarity in that proverbial bell jar, know that you are not alone. You can crack the glass. You can even shatter it. There is always a way to break free.

Pure Genius

February 10, 2024July 10, 2024Leave a comment

What are your favorite book series? One of many personal favorites is the Pure trilogy.
I remember the first time I read Pure. I was pulling my hair out over the fact that I did not have the next book in the series right-here-right-now. Talk about frustration! Even after my second read-through I just couldn’t get enough.

Julianna Baggott is a master world-builder. Her post-apocalyptic world is phenomenally created and is my favorite aspect of these books with their mix of raw brutality and the stark beauty of humanity fighting to exist. From world history to creature construction, there is no stone left unturned. I enjoyed the way Baggott deals with world history by weaving truth, rumor, and speculation in and throughout the dialogue and character interaction.

While beautifully written, there is a dark savagery that pushes the grotesque and uncomfortable into the face of the reader, so this isn’t one I would suggest for those without a strong stomach or on the younger side of the YA spectrum. But it certainly is a book series that I wouldn’t hesitate to suggest to readers and writers alike—for anyone looking for a unique take on a rather overdone trend of dystopian teen saviors.

A Tale of Two Nations

December 9, 2023September 25, 2024Leave a comment

Let’s talk about Pachinko.

There are so many things to love about this book. From a historical context, it’s fascinating. I was already aware of the history between Korea and Japan, and the impacts that still hold to this day. But I was curious to know more. As a recommendation from a Korean friend to find a better understanding of this relationship between the two nations, I can say that it did not disappoint. It’s richly detailed, and Min Jin Lee certainly knows how to pull you into another time and place.

**Warning: SPOILERS ahead!**

What I did not like about this book is that while there is so much history and familial details to get lost in, you’re never given enough time with any one character to really develop a connection. It’s almost as though all the things I love about the book, smother the opportunity for character development. Because a story like this isn’t just about the political and historical climate of those eras—it’s supposed to be about the lives of those in the thick of it. And yet just when you’re getting a feel for a character, the chapter literally ends with their death. And this happens again and again. True to life? Perhaps. But when I read, I want to actually care about the characters, and I was never given the chance to do that.

Is it worth reading? Absolutely! But read it to broaden your knowledge of a tempestuous relationship between two nations, because those are the two characters that truly rule this story.

Side note: I’ve said this maybe five times in my life, but the tv adaptation of Pachinko is amazing and I daresay, better than the book. All the flaws that I struggled with in the book were handled beautifully. The characters are nuanced and richly developed, and cinematically it’s just stunning. Check it out on Apple TV.

Ode to the Limberlost

October 1, 2023July 10, 20241 Comment

When I first began writing Song of the Limberlost, it was only meant to be a short story; the expansion of a flash piece I’d written in a workshop. But the more I wrote, the more I realized that this could blossom into something much greater than 3,000 words. So I scratched the short story and started over. As my storyline and characters continue to develop, I’m seeing that this really is a reflection of my love for the work of Gene Stratton-Porter. One of the things I admire most about this woman is that while writing wasn’t her true passion, her words and voice made it near impossible to miss the devotion and love she held for the Limberlost. So in a manner, my novel is an ode to her work; one obsession reflecting another. If you are familiar with her writings, particularly Freckles and Girl of the Limberlost, you’ll see many nods of recognition to various elements found in those books. While I’m also working on a YA novel, this one has become a bit of a pet project.

For those who are curious about the flash piece that birthed this baby, you’ll find it below.

***

She shadowed the edge of the swamp, her thin blouse clinging to the damp skin of her chest. Despite the signs of autumn found in the dangling crimson leaves and bright berry clusters, it felt like mid-summer. The intense heat and low branches had played havoc with her hair; leaving a disheveled nest that she half expected would attract birds. The heavy wading boots threatened to pull her down into the clinging sea of inky blackness dappled with duckweed.

Determined to follow the 7-mile trail around the wetland that had claimed her father’s life, she’d found herself skirting closer to the edge of the quagmire the further she walked. Aware that she was toying with fate in an intoxicating game of risk, her breath quickened and a sudden rush of mad laughter escaped her throat. She’d never understood the pull her father felt for this bog, but as she’d immersed herself in his world, a slow understanding had taken root.

At first, every minute had been agony. The plethora of unknown sounds and the heart-stopping boom of a well-camouflaged Bittern had her sprinting for the comfort of her jeep, not five minutes in. She’d stared at the swamp with long-held hatred before mustering enough courage to match her determination.

On her second attempt, the beauty of the swamp began to reveal itself. The velvety heads of Cattails bobbed towards her in a show of welcome, and shimmering dragonflies hovered ahead like winged guides for her journey. And though the marsh grasses began an eerie sway against the ripples of the wind, the silvery threads of gossamer webs shimmered in the late afternoon sun.

Near the end of the trail, when she reached the site that marked his resting place, she found a patch of solid ground beyond the footpath and looked out at the mire. As she reflected on that night and all its possibilities of chance, she imagined that under the luster of moonlight the swamp had taken on a luminescent quality. This ephemeral form had lured her father in and swallowed him whole in a slow dance of life and death. Standing to complete her journey, a small crinkle formed at the corner of her mouth as she smiled. Despite the shadow that would forever overcast its grandeur, the marsh held the one she loved most, and he had died in the tranquil arms of his lover.

Here be Monsters

September 23, 2023July 10, 20241 Comment

A few posts back I promised to post some short reviews. Although not something new, (but certainly treasured) I’ll start with this little gem.

Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite authors. I randomly picked up Smoke and Mirrors when I was a teen and instantly fell in love. The man’s way with words is just…*swoon*. I have loved every book written by Gaiman, and I readily admit I’m biased. So if you’re looking for impartiality on this particular book, you won’t find it here.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is childhood bound in words. You cannot read this book without seeing the world again through your own seven-year-old eyes. You’ll remember the wonder, the magic, the fear and hesitation. And you’ll be reminded that for all the whimsy found in your imagination, there were also monsters in the darkness that tried to lure you in. Was it all real or just pretend?

This book is short, and packed full of loveliness that will leave you thinking for days. You’ll reminisce and consider. You’ll hurt and you’ll smile. Really, please, just give it a go.
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Do you Nanowrimo?

November 10, 2022September 25, 2024Leave a comment

Since 2013 I’ve participated in Nanowrimo off and on. For those of you not in the know, Nanowrimo is an an acronym for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write 50,000 words in a month. Because we are a society that likes alliteration, it would only make sense that this event happens in the month of November. I’ve finished some great short stories in this time, but to put that 50,000 words towards a novel already in the works has never happened.

So, my goal this year is to finish the first draft of my novel, Song of the Limberlost. I’m currently about halfway through, and while it’s absolutely a pet project, I’ve also been puttering along. The thing about writing a novel that requires heavy research, is that it unfortunately presents as an excuse for why you haven’t finished you. Admittedly, this has been the case for me as well. Given that I’m an editor during my day job, that also transfers over to my writing style as I heavily edit as I write. Both things that can stall first draft completion if you allow it.

To push myself past this not so lovely habit that I’ve found myself in, I’m setting aside my tendencies to get lost in research and editing before I need to. Getting the bare bones of this project on paper is the plan. So away with the perfectly crafted dialogue and the descriptive sentences, away with the proper Latin names of moths and other lepidopterology (look it up!), away with all the things that have kept me from finishing this first draft. Sometimes, all we need is the opportunity to present itself, to give us the right scenario or situation to spur us into action.

And for those of you struggle to finish a writing project, or even start one, take a look into Nanowrimo. It might be just the push you need!

*2024 Update*: I’m saddened to say that I no longer personally support Nanowrimo in light of their stance on generative A.I. in writing. Additionally, their implications regarding disabled writers requiring the use of such technology to be published are, quite frankly, insulting to those who have fought tooth and nail for inclusion and equality based solely on the merits of their own work.

Reading From the Other Side of the Tracks

May 6, 2016October 4, 2022Leave a comment

I’ve never been one to suggest reading books that don’t appeal based on genre, subject, or synopsis. But, if you choose not to read certain books just because they fall under one of those genres—sci-fi, fantasy, or romance—then you are an elitist snob, and we don’t want you in our club. Yes, we name call here, and if you can’t handle it you likely wouldn’t enjoy these genres anyways.

To deny yourself the pleasure of these genres based solely on how it makes you ‘look’ is to deprive yourself of some fabulous reading material. Some of my favorite quotes have come from these genres, and some of them are downright brilliant. And of course, the context in which they’re found is sometimes both ironic and hilarious. Case in point: a friend recently asked for everyone’s favorite quotes on love, and I sent her this line,

“Love is rarely flawless…Humans delude themselves by thinking it has to be. It is the imperfection that makes love perfect.”

She adored the quote and asked me what it was from. I told her Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead. My ears might be bleeding from her screeching laughter.

“Are you actually giving me love quotes from a Succubus?”

“Well, yeah…”

Anyways.

But seriously, good portions of those quotes you share on social media are from authors in these genres. Next time you repost a quote from an author you’re unfamiliar with, I dare you to immediately look that person up and then march yourself down to the library for any one of his/her books. If you like the quote, you’ll probably like the rest of the book too. Just sayin’.

Don’t rob yourself of the joy that is American Gods, Solaris, or Practical Magic (This is totally the safe stuff, guys. Message me for the really juicy, campy goods.) If the title or cover art doesn’t do it for you, take another look. I will admit that I’m guilty of judging a book by its cover, I mean who doesn’t like to look at pretty things? And damn, some of those covers are just gorgeous (I’m looking at you, Euphoria.) But sometimes the packaging is deceiving, and it can go both ways. I’ve read some horrendous books that had a fab title and cover art, yet that book on the bottom of my pile, the one with a title that made no sense and a cover that had me sighing in disappointment, turned out to be my favorite of the haul. I often think that the artwork of these genres does a huge disservice to their content. I mean, can we get any more stereotypical with the busty broads, galaxy shots, and broadswords? Don’t answer that. Although the fantasy genre does seem to be making a greater effort lately—Have you seen the cover of The Golem and the Jinni? Total eyegasm.

The point is this, step outside your literary box. Jump the tracks to the not-so-literary side and you might surprise yourself with how many crossover novels you find. Exploration of character isn’t limited to 19th century Russia. Sometimes it’s found in a place outside of time and space, and sometimes it’s found on the moors of Scotland. And if you happen to get lost in another world, is that really so bad?

Sometimes, it’s OK to be a follower.

February 25, 2016October 4, 2022Leave a comment

Tonight I find myself sipping a Long Island iced tea instead of my usual hot beverage, in hopes that a loose mind might meet loose fingers. And let’s face it, despite the love and devotion one might hold for caffeine, every now and then we need a different type of buzz.

The past few evenings I’ve found myself engaging in something that my favorite Prof. calls, “Playing the keys.” Now I’ve heard of this technique before—usually termed something like ‘Free Writing’, but there’s just something about his verbiage that makes it so much more appealing. For those not in the know, this procedure involves writing for a set period of time with zero regards to spelling, grammar, and subject matter. In essence, you’re writing absolute nonsense. The general goal is to clear the mind, get past perfectionist tendencies, and hopefully find some thread of thought that can develop into more. It’s something people like me need use to get out of their own heads. My first reaction to the concept was very open-minded and full of writer-ly enthusiasm. OR, it might have ended in a sniff as I reached for my Thesaurus.

But sometimes, even synonyms get tossed in disgust. So I surrendered and gave it a try after reading yet another lovely experience had by people who know more than I do. And I have to tell you, it’s fun. Of course, it’s also weird and nonsensical, and full of grating errors, but it’s a reflection of your brain, and the way thoughts develop; no longer floating around in the think-tank but in visual, tactile form.

Added bonus: You discover new things about yourself. For example, apparently I prefer an oblivious death, such as the sun engulfing the earth. A bit macabre perhaps, but true.

I was also surprised at some of the lyricism found in my thoughts; some of which were quite pretty (I swear I’m not a pompous person). Here are just a few—and do remember it’s not meant to make sense:

“The ice cold lakes below beckon with temptation and call for a life that is not my own. I dream of you, of pain and sorrow, reactions and moves that are not reality, but a message to myself that I must let you go.”

“A strange taste of copper has overtaken my tongue and my eyes long for the rosy blush that slides over bright metals in fake visions.”

“There is music in the whispers of your lips and songs hovering in the strands of your hair as you giggle and paint your love gold. “

I can’t honestly say that anything has inspired me in one direction or another, but I do feel more creative. And yes, we get touchy-feely here. So as someone who has jumped on the bandwagon, allow me to add my voice to the masses. Let go, play the keys, and dance with your words. You’ll feel better. I promise.

Taryn King

Writer. Coffee Fiend. Lover of all things Bookish.

Tag: authors