Authors A-B
HC sat down with author, bon vivant, and all-around hoopy frood, JCM Berne, to talk about the business side of Self-Publishing.
You can (and should) learn more about JCM and check out his books, YouTube Channel and more at:
Website
Bluesky
Twitter
Facebook
Instagram
YouTube
Also, be sure to see his contribution to Spreading the Self-Pub Love in 2025!
I’m excited talk about today’s release of Turn 7 of The Hybrid Helix series, JCM Berne’s Shield of The Mothership. SF readers, Super-hero fans, Space Opera fans, and people who like to read good books in general should check it out. Here’s a little more about the book to get you interested.
Title: Shield of The Mothership by JCM Berne
Series: The Hybrid Helix, Turn 7
Format: Hardcover/Kindle/Paperback
Length: 477 pg.
Publisher: The Gnost House
US Publication Date: July 22, 2025
Sometimes the enemy of your enemy is still your enemy.
Rohan swore he’d never work for the il’Drach again, never again be called Lance Primary, never again kill or risk the lives of his friends on behalf of the Empire.
But when the safety of the sector is at risk, when inaction could lead to the death of every living thing in the galaxy, he has to work with what he has.
Even if what he has is allies he can’t trust, a mission he doesn’t understand, and the growing suspicion that things are only getting worse.
JCM Berne has reached middle age without outgrowing the notion that superheroes are cool. Code monkey by day, by night he slaves over a hot keyboard to prove that superhero stories can be engaging and funny without being dark or silly.
Website ~ Bluesky ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ YouTube
I’m not going to finish the post today that I meant to put up yesterday. So…let’s look at this again (all but the third prompt are still valid). I’ve been thinking a lot about the Fantasy genre. Might as well keep the trend going…
I saw this over at Bookstooge’s Reviews on the Road, and it seemed like a fun way to revisit some Fantasy Favorites, and indulge in a bit of nostalgia while I was at it.
Play along, will ya?
The Lies of Locke Lamora
I’ve read this at least 4 times and love it more each time. A Con Novel, a Heist Novel, a story of Found Family and vengence gone wrong (and, right, if you think that’s possible). I can’t get enough of Book I of the Gentleman Bastard Sequence. It’s fun, it’s suspenseful, good fight scenes, and characters you want to spend more time with.
Oh, and the fantasy world is pretty cool, too 🙂
(I have a very short post about it here)
The Chronicles of PrydainThe Chronicles of Narnia made me a Lewis fan. The Chronicls of Prydain turned me into a Fantasy fan (which is why I had to use the covers I owned as a kid). Yeah, it’s written for what we’d call today a Middle Grade audience, but when I listened to the audiobooks a year or two ago (or when I read them to my kids a decade ago), I thought it was just about as effective as you could hope. A little bit of fun, a dash of romance, a hero quest straight out of Campbell, a decent amount of magic (but not too much), a good mythic basis—and a oracular pig! It’s also probably the series that taught me that you’ll end up having emotional attachments to characters to the extent you may get teary about when they die and/or say good-bye to each other (and, yeah, did as an adult).
(my posts about the audiobook series)
Bloody RoseI tried to read this last year, and failed. I’m hoping to read it this year, and am likely to fail. I less-than-three’d Kings of the Wyld (in print and audio) so much, I don’t know why I haven’t made the time for the sequel.
The Brothers ThreeThe first of The Blackwood Saga is everything I loved about portal fantasies as a kid—but it’s written for adults. Some good characters, a good amount of growth (especially in the later books in the series), good fight scenes and a pretty cool world to explore. This worked for me in ways I didn’t expect—and the sequels have done a good job building on this one. I’ve yet to read the newest in the series, but this one feels like a good comfort-read if I needed one.
The Warlock in Spite of Himself(I probably would’ve gone with Brooks’ The Magic Kingdom for Sale, but Bookstooge beat me to it in his post).
I honestly remember very little about this novel, despite having read it several times. But the last time was probably in 1990-91. I was able to find a couple of the later novels in the series, too—just not enough for me at the time (I probably could now—yay, Internet). Still, somehow this is what sprang to mind when I thought of a fantasy on another world. A cool combination of SF and fantasy, as I recall.
The Hum and the Shiver(and the rest of the series, too, but this is good enough—as good as many series hope to be in itself)
A magical people with amazing musical talent in the Smoky Mountains, dealing with modernization, an Iraqi war vet, and a feud going back generations. I’m not a believer in magic, but Bledsoe makes me want to with these books—this is the best of a great series, and thinking about it now has got me thinking it might be time for read #4 of this one.
As for the tagging . . . nah, I’ll just leave this open to all my readers, I’d love to see what you all would put here. (W&S Book Club, here’s another chance to talk about The Dragonlance Chronicles—you’re welcome)
(updated and revised this 5/26/25)
I’ve been trying for a few years now to come up with a tribute to Adams. This isn’t quite what I had in mind, but it’s a start. In my mind, this is a work in progress (a multiple-year project), but I’m posting it anyway. Next year’s version will be better—or at least more complete.
Some time in 7th or 8th grade (I believe), I was at a friend’s house and his brother let us try his copy of the text-based Hitchhiker’s Guide game, and we were no good at it at all. Really, it was embarrassing. However, his brother had a copy of the first novel, and we all figured that the novel held the keys we needed for success with the game (alas, it did not help us one whit). My friends all decided that I’d be the one to read the book and come back in a few days as an expert.
I fell in love with the book almost instantly, and I quickly forgot about the game. Adams’ irreverent style rocked my world—could people actually get away with saying some of these things? His skewed take on the world, his style, his humor…and a depressed robot, too! It was truly love at first read. As I recall, I started re-reading it as soon as I finished it—the only time in my life I’ve done that sort of thing.
Also, I finally understood that song, “Marvin, I Love You,” that I kept hearing on Dr. Demento.
It was one of those experiences that, looking back, I can say shaped my reading and thinking for the rest of my life (make of that what you will). Were my life the subject of a Doctor Who or Legends of Tomorrow episode, it’d be one of those immutable fixed points. I got my hands on the next three books as quickly as I could (the idea of a four-volume trilogy was one of the funniest ideas I’d encountered up to that point), and devoured them. I do know that I didn’t understand all of the humor, several of the references shot past me at the speed of light, and I couldn’t appreciate everything that was being satirized. But what I did understand, I thought was brilliant. Not only did I find it funny, the series taught me about comedy—how to construct a joke, how to twist it in ways a reader wouldn’t always expect, and when not to twist but to go for the obviously funny idea. The trilogy also helped me to learn to see the absurdity in life.
Years later, when the final volume (by Adams) was released, I’d already cemented what I thought about the books from these frequent re-reads. I’m not sure that Mostly Harmless changed things much (except for making me think for the first time that maybe I didn’t want him to write more in this series). His non-Hitchhiker’s work illustrated that he was capable of making you see things in a new light–either with a smile or a sense of regret—even when he wasn’t writing the trilogy, even when he was writing non-fiction. It was never the setting or the genre—it was Adams.
But here on Towel Day—as with most of the time I talk about Adams (but I need to change that), it comes down to where I started—the Trilogy. I read the books (particularly the first) so many times that I can quote significant portions of them, and frequently do so without noticing that I’m doing that. I have (at this time) two literary-inspired tattoos, one of which is the planet logo* featured on the original US covers. In essence, I’m saying that Adams and the series that made him famous have had an outsized influence on my life and are probably my biggest enduring fandom. If carrying around a (massively useful) piece of cloth for a day in some small way honors his memory? Sure, I’m in.
So, Happy Towel Day, You Hoopy Froods.
* I didn’t know it at the time, but Adams didn’t like that guy. Whoops.
(updated and revised this 5/26/25)
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has a few things to say on the subject of towels.
A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.
Hence a phrase that has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in “Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There’s a frood who really knows where his towel is.” (Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)
Towel Day was yesterday, May 25, but I’m going to observe it today (in the tradition of all Weekend Holidays in the U.S>0
Towel Day, for the few who don’t know, is the annual celebration of Douglas Adams’ life and work. It was first held two weeks after his death, fans were to carry a towel with them for the day to use as a talking point to encourage those who have never read HHGTTG to do so, or to just converse with someone about Adams. Adams is one of that handful of authors that I can’t imagine I’d be the same without having encountered/read/re-read/re-re-re-re-read, and so I do my best to pay a little tribute to him each year, even if it’s just carrying around a towel.
In commemoration of this date, here’s most of what I’ve written about Adams. I’ve struggled to come up with new material to share for Towel Day over the years, mostly sticking with updating and revising existing posts. And, this year is no exception A few years back, I did a re-read of all of Adams’ (completed) fiction. For reasons beyond my ken (or recollection), I didn’t get around to blogging about the Dirk Gently books, but I did do the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy:
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
Life, The Universe and Everything
So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish
Mostly Harmless
I had a thing or two to say about the 40th Anniversary of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
I took a look at the 42nd Anniversary Illustrated Edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
I should also point to a posts I wrote about Douglas Adams’ London by Yvette Keller and 42: The Wildly Improbable Ideas of Douglas Adams edited by Kevin Jon Davies—both are great ways of filling out one’s understanding of Adams and his work. I have to mention the one book that Adams/Hitchhiker’s aficionado needs to read is Don’t Panic by Neil Gaiman, David K. Dickson and MJ Simpson.
If you’re more in the mood for a podcast, I’d suggest The Waterstones Podcast How We Made: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy—I’ve listened to several podcast episodes about this book, and generally roll my eyes at them. But this is just fantastic. Were it available, I’d listen to a Peter Jackson-length version of the episode.
I’ve only been able to get one of my sons into Adams, he’s the taller, thinner one in the picture from a few several years ago. 
(although I did get he and his younger siblings to use their towels to make themselves safe from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal a few years earlier:)
You really need to check out this comic from Sheldon Comics—part of the Anatomy of Authors series: The Anatomy of Douglas Adams.
Lit in a Nutshell gives this quick explanation of The Hitchiiker’s Guide:
TowelDay.org is the best collection of resources on the day. One of my favorite posts there is this pretty cool video, shot on the ISS by astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti.
Even better—here’s an appearance by Douglas Adams himself from the old Letterman show—I’m so glad someone preserved this:
Love the anecdote (Also, I want this tie.)
Class Clown:by Dave Barry,
DETAILS:
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication Date: May 13, 2025
Format: eARC
Length: 256 pg.
Read Date: May 4-6, 2025
It’s really all there in the subtitle: it’s Dave Barry’s memoirs about his career as a professional wiseass—primarily through his humor column, but he’s found other outlets for it, too.
Here’s some of the jacket copy to help beef that up:
America’s most beloved wiseass finally tells his life story with all the humor you’d expect from a man who made a career out of making fun of pretty much everything.
How does the son of a Presbyterian minister wind up winning a Pulitzer Prize for writing a wildly inaccurate newspaper column read by millions of people?
In Class Clown, Dave Barry takes us on a hilarious ride, starting with a childhood largely spent throwing rocks for entertainment—there was no internet—and preparing for nuclear war by hiding under a classroom desk. After literally getting elected class clown in high school, he went to college, where, as an English major, he read snippets of great literature when he was not busy playing in a rock band (it was the sixties).
He began his journalism career at a small-town Pennsylvania newspaper where he learned the most important rule of local journalism: never confuse a goose with a duck. His journey then took a detour into the business world, where as a writing consultant he spent years trying, with limited success, to get corporate folks to, for God’s sake, get the point. Somehow from there he wound up as a humor columnist for The Miami Herald, where his boss was a wild man who encouraged him to write about anything that struck him as amusing and to never worry about alienating anyone…
Class Clown isn’t just a memoir; it’s a vibrant celebration of a life rich with humor, absurdity, joy, and sadness. Dave says the most important wisdom imparted by his Midwestern parents was never to take anything too seriously. This laughter-filled book is proof that he learned that lesson well.
The first four chapters are the most autobiographical part of the book—a little less than 50% of it. Here we cover his parents, his childhood, schooling, and early career—from his first newspaper job, his detour through business education, and then finding his way back to journalism and becoming a humor columnist.
This is all the nitty-gritty stuff—what were his parents like? (nothing like you’d guess) What did his childhood entail? (bad jokes and throwing things) What did he write before making money with booger jokes? And so on.
This was the more educational—in a good way, I stress—part. He wrote about is parents, in particular, with warmth and humanity. He was open about some of their struggles, but with sensitivity. I really appreciated the way he talked about his marriages—past and present—very briefly, yet definitively. There is some humor, but it’s largely self-directed, or at the culture he and his parents were in.
This is really the kind of thing you come to a memoir for, and Barry did it well. He quotes some of his more serious (and some of his less-serious) columns here to show what he’s said about these things in the past.
A little over half the book is devoted to what I’m describing as “Topical Memories”—he has a chapter on things like “My Readers,” “Politics,” and “Books, Music, and Movies.” In these, he relates a collection of stories and anecdotes from all over his career along these lines.
So we get stories about the great things his readers have sent him—and some of the less positive things they’ve said. Scandals he created—inadvertently or not. How he was involved in Obama’s first inaugural parade, or had Bruce Springsteen sing backup for him, how he accidentally offended an audience of Russians by screening one of his films. I particularly enjoyed him talking about his feud with his Neil Diamond-loving readers (I’m a pretty big Diamond fan, but thought Barry’s jokes were good and deserved, for what it’s worth)
There are several extended quotations from his columns here—and we get a lot of the stories behind the columns, too. Not the nuts-and-bolts of how he wrote them, but what led to them.
If the Origin Story chapters were educational—this was recess. Just a lot of fun and goofing off, telling wild stories and recounting past glories (and blunders). It was exactly the kind of thing that Barry readers pick up his books for.
I don’t frequently talk about appendices; they’re supplemental material, and I prefer to focus on the main portion of the book, but every now and then, one comes along that demands attention.
For example (as you might have guessed), this appendix. It was a hoot—its title is “A Good Name for a Rock Band.” Barry (like many of us) will frequently pick up on a phrase from something he quoted and say it would be a good name for a rock band (also known by the super-easy and memorable acronym WBAGNFARB). After discussing this practice a bit, Barry gives a non-exhaustive, but extensive list of some of those bands.
I think reading them in context is best—but you definitely can appreciate them in a different way with no context whatsoever. They are definitely more ridiculous that way.
It’s worth picking the book up from the shelf at your local bookstore/library just to read those few pages. (Of course, you’d be better served by reading the whole thing). Even people who don’t have a background with Barry will find some laughs there.
I’m fairly certain at this point in my life that I’m hardwired to enjoy Davy Barry’s writing, and that I don’t have the neuroplasticity to change that. No matter what apps for seniors I try. So maybe take this with a softball-sized grain of salt.
I really enjoyed this book. A lot—and on several levels.
Part of me would’ve liked a little more depth, a little more digging into details of his life, maybe his approach to writing. But it’d just feel strange knowing that much about Barry—and we all know what happens to a joke when you dissect it, knowing too much about how his sausage is made might not be that entertaining. Really, for Dave Barry—this is about as deep as we want. Every time I started to say “I wish he’d given us more about X,” I stopped myself and realized that no, this was just the right amount.
So no, it’s not as self-revealing as say, Patrick Stewart’s or Matthew Perry’s books—and that’s good.
This is a great way to get to know Barry a little better—given the nature of his work, a lot of us have had a para-social relationship with him before that was a phrase people used. It’s nice for us to deepen that relationship to a degree—before we get back to jokes about exploding cows, questionable song lyrics, or whatever.
I heartily encourage readers of Dave Barry to pick this up—even casual readers will have fun with this, you don’t have to be a die-hard like me. He’s one of a kind, and it’s great to bask in that for a little while.
Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Simon & Schuster via NetGalley in exchange for this post which contains my honest opinion—thanks to both for this.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, the opinions expressed are my own.
Last year, you’ll have seen the name M.D. Presley here a few times–thanks to the first two books in his Inner Circle UF series. We had a fun chat last week that I bring to you today. Matt introduced me to the work of Laurel K. Hamilton and her influence on the genre.
Of course, better than that, would be checking out her site and work for yourself. But you might as well start with this chat.
Website ~ Bluesky ~ Facebook ~ Rites of Passage (Inner Circle book 1) ~ Worldbuilding Nonfiction
Are you a Reader of Things and want to chat with me about an author/series/something other than promoting your own work (which we will do, just not primarily)? I’d love to keep trying this, but I’m not ready to start pestering people about it. So please let me know.
I remember reading this in July 2018, thinking that Barry was preparing to say goodby to Lucy. I mention this only because he only said goodbye to her this week. Color me flummoxed. But also, how could I not dust this post off in her memory?
Lessons From Lucy: The Simple Joys of an Old, Happy Dogby Dave BarryeARC, 208 pg.
Simon & Schuster, 2018
Read: July 19, 2018
Before I say anything else, Barry has set up an Instagram page (well, probably not him, actually — he states in the book he doesn’t understand Instagram) for his dog, Lucy. You should absolutely check it out and then come back to read what I have to say about the book. Dog Pictures > my blog. Pretty near always.
With that out of the way . . . Dave Barry has been a dog person for most of his life, one of the many reasons I like him. I distinctly, and fondly, remember columns and/or references to Earnest and Zippy (the emergency backup dog) years ago. Those two make a brief appearance in this book, but they aren’t the focus. The focus (if you can’t tell from the title) is his dog, Lucy. At the time of writing, Barry and Lucy are the same age — 70 (or 7 times 10 in her case), which means that both of them have many fewer days ahead of them than behind — which sounds awfully morbid for Dave Barry to talk about, but he does so frequently and purposefully.
As they’re at similar stages in life, Barry notices a huge difference between the two — Lucy is far happier and seemingly better adjusted than he is. So he sets out to try to learn a few lessons about life from her, which he passes on to his readers. Things like Pay Attention to the People You Love; Don’t Let Your Happiness Depend on Things; and Don’t Stop Having Fun. None of these, Barry knows, are original or ground-breaking — they’re pretty much common sense. Yet, they’re the kind of common sense things that he (like many/most humans) doesn’t actually do a great job at.
The result is a mixture of a Self-Help book and a Humor book — humor about himself, his life, as well as dogs. Sometimes the swing between the two genres can be jarring, but that’s pretty rare. For the most part, he moves easily between the two, taking the readers along with him on this ride. I can’t tell you how many times I went from grinning, chuckling or laughing out loud to getting misty-eyed within a couple of pages. It seems that Barry has learned a little bit about writing over the decades.
I’ve loved Barry’s humor longer than either of us would probably care to admit. One of his strengths is finding a way to take an old joke, or at least a joke everyone’s made before — like, say, I dunno, dogs sniffing each other’s hind-quarters — and make it feel fresh and new. More importantly, funny. He’s also able to make jumps from premise to punchline that no one expects. There is, for example, a Hugh Hefner joke where one doesn’t even come close to belonging — and it works perfectly. Even knowing that, you won’t see it coming until you’re snickering at it.
As for the heart-felt material? It works pretty well, too. I don’t think anyone will walk away from this book thinking “Wow! That was insightful. I never would have thought of it on my own!” Nor do I think Barry was trying for it. But, readers will appreciate the reminders to live like Lucy (or their own dog), and the way Barry phrases things might add some freshness to the concept. Which is all anyone can really ask.
I really don’t know if this is Barry’s best — but it’s up there. The ratio of Attempted Joke to Funny Joke is pretty high, I’m not sure if I can think of a higher one in his ouvre. Lessons From Lucy is, without a doubt, his most mature, thoughtful and touching work (that’s a pretty low bar, I realize — a bar he’s worked hard to keep low, too). Couple that with me being a sucker for a Dog Book — even if it is a semi-Self Help book — and I can’t help but give it 5 Stars. This is a winner, no matter what.
—–
Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Simon & Schuster via NetGalley in exchange for this post — which is my honest opinion and pleasure to give — thanks to both for this.
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Deep Dark Nightby Steph Broadribb Kindle Edition, 320 pg. Read: January 16-17, 2020 |
I’ve always felt an element of fear about the jobs I do. In the right dosage it can help you. It gets your adrenaline firing, makes you think clearer, faster—gets you alert and ready to tackle anything that comes your way. But if the fear builds too much, all that good stuff swings things around; the nerves make you hesitant, jumpy and too cautious. That’s when you start making mistakes. And mistakes, in my world, can be fatal.
After barely getting to take a breath following the events of Deep Dirty Truth, Lori finally gets the chance to work off her debt to FBI Agent Monroe. This puts Lori and JT in Chicago trying to get the mobster Cabressa to take possession of some stolen goods. Once that’s done, a series of dominoes will fall and Monroe will be able to put him away for a very long time.
So he insists, anyway.
Step one involves Lori getting an invite to an incredibly exclusive Poker game, Step two involves giving her a crash course in playing Poker so she seems mostly credible in the game. (this isn’t presented as a comedic segment, but I chuckled at this part of the book—also, I’m jealous, I wish I could learn how to play like this).
Now, every thriller reader knows what will happen next—no plan, no matter how thorough, how well-thought-out no matter who’s involved, will work. If for no other reason than it would produce a dull novel. But also, every thriller reader has heard the line, “no plan survives first contact with the enemy” and knows it to be true. The questions that need to be answered are: how badly will the plan go awry? and How will Lori and JT react to it?
So let me assure you, when this plan is derailed, it’s derailed in a spectacular fashion, providing a lot of danger for our heroes, peril for those around them, and more than enough tension to satisfy a hungry reader. Lori and JT respond appropriately, not perfectly (which would be boring), but they display the stamina, resourcefulness, and tenacity we’ve come to expect from them.
The poker game collected quite the interesting mix of players—sports figures, politicians, as well as shady characters like Cabressa. When things go wrong during the game, it opens things up for a lot of drama and conflicting interests causing trouble for all involved. Suddenly, Lori and JT can’t focus solely on getting Cabressa to fall into Monroe’s trap—they have to worry about survival—their own, and as many others that they can help. Sure, Cabressa is still their target, but there’s a lot they have to go through before they can make him a priority.
I’m not going to get more in-depth than that, I’ll leave it there and say there’s more than enough going on plot-wise to fuel a book at least half again as long as this one. Broadribb has stacked the deck against the pair and it’s great to watch them try to navigate the situation.
The game takes place at the top of a pretty high building in Chicago and the action centers around that location, stories above the ground. In the real world, I’m pretty acrophobic—and occasionally (okay, more than occasionally), a movie can get me to feel the anxiety that heights can bring out in me. I don’t remember ever feeling symptoms while reading a book, but I did here. It’s not like Broadribb focused all that much on the height and risk of falling (it was there, but she didn’t belabor the point), but something about the way that she told the story, flicked that particular switch in my brain. There’s something very disconcerting about sitting in a comfortable seat (on the ground level like a sane person) but feeling like I was standing in a precarious* location several feet off the ground. I’m not promising that anyone else will experience what I did, I assume the rest of humanity is a bit better adjusted than I am, but for me that was an unexpected “bonus” to the book.
* Yeah, fine, my definition of a precarious location applies to perfectly safe—even benign—spots.
I’m a little worried about the long-term health of Lori’s elbows. She uses them so often as weapons, she probably heads back to Florida with at least one of them horribly bruised. I don’t remember this being the case in the previous novels, maybe I just forgot—or maybe she’s just relying on the technique in these circumstances (I remember more than once the narration in a Jack Reacher novel talking about the usefulness of that tactic compared to the use of a fist).
As far as long-term character development goes, Lori and JT start a conversation they’ve needed to have since, well, since we met the two of them about Dakota and why Lori didn’t tell JT about her before she did. This will prove helpful in the future and provide the opportunity for the relationship to grow and change. The two of them have some sort of plan going forward about their careers and daughter, but we’re going to have to come back to find out what they have in mind. Seeing these two deal with each other and their daughter is almost as rewarding to me as the action-hero kind of thing is, and Broadribb’s featuring both sides of Lori like this is a real strength of the series.
For my money, this is the best of the series—she’s got a real handle on these characters by now and knows just how to put them through the wringer in a way that provides real tension and thrills. I got more wrapped up in this than I expected to (and I had pretty high expectations at this point in the series), and it was absolutely worth it. Book five cannot arrive soon enough for me.
If you haven’t met this bounty hunter yet, you need to—either in the pages of this book or the beginning, either would work (but you might as well just buy the set all at once, you won’t be satisfied until you read them all). Deep Dark Night will win Broadribb some new fans and confirm those readers already along for the ride.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of seeing Craig Johnson for the third time 7 years. I’m starting to feel like a stalker, or a groupie, or…I dunno, I can’t come up with the third things for that list. Anyway, I’m not either of those–or the other one, either. I only see him when he comes to the Treasure Valley and I see an advtisement. Really.
This time, he came to Boise to do a presentation for students of The Osher Institute–a lifelong learning program that seems like a great idea (I’ve heard a few people talk about it before). Thankfully, they opened it for non-students, too–for a small fee that included the price of his new novella, Tooth and Claw (which he signed afterward, too).
He talked a little about the oddly extended process in getting the novella written (by his standards, anyway), the style/influence that was behind this one, and a little bit about the story (maybe too much, almost certainly more than I’ll put in my eventual post about it). He also told a nice little story about the history of the SS Baychimo, a ghost ship that would appear every 10 years or so up in Alaska. I assume that I’m not the only one who had to go home and read more about it later after hearing his recounting.
Then he went into an extended Q&A time for the rest of the hour–I’ve heard a couple of the anecdotes he used before, but he used them to answer different questions, so that was a nice touch. But this wasn’t like the other Q&As I’ve seen him do before–this was a fairly mixed audience. There were plenty of Johnson fans, and plenty of people who’d watched the Longmire show, too. But there were a decent number of people who hadn’t read him at all before (1 person read The Cold Dish in the last couple of weeks). This led to some great questions from people who just wanted to talk about writing, the process of publishing, and then the recommended way to read the books (his wife insists they be read in chronological order, he maintains you can grab them in any order*).
Whether he was just talking about his upcoming book, answering a question about his process, talking about the ages of his characters, what he wrote before Walt Longmire got him a publication deal, a storyline that didn’t turn out the way he planned, or even a problem someone had with the Netflix adaptation, Johnson knows how to engage with an audience. I hope he doesn’t do this anytime soon, but if he quit writing and just toured the country telling stories about the books, his life, or just fun things he learned about history–I’d see him as often as possible and I think he be able to stay as active as he wanted. I don’t know if he’s always been able to work an audience the way he does, or if he grew into it (I think the former based on what he says about his family’s knack for storytelling), but there’s no denying that you walk away from a Craig Johnson appearance fully entertained. If you get the opportunity, take it.
And, of course, he brought that same charm and ability to connect to the autograph line–his lines don’t move that quickly. Once you get to the front, you understand why. He takes enough time so that fans new and old get a little of his attention, which no one is going to complain about.
I was also treated by a friend to a great meal at a nearby Mexican restaurant after we got our books signed. That’s not the point of this piece. I just can’t help thinking of it a day later.
*It’s good to see that even your writing heroes can be wrong.
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