Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Ye Gods! Read this book!

Please meet funny lady and gifted writer Lynne Hinkey, whose second novel, Ye Gods!, has just been published by Casperian Books. She graciously responded to a few impertinent questions.  

Given the maxim, "Write what you know," how has your life prepared you to write Ye Gods! ?

I was living in the Virgin Islands when the chupacabra first appeared in Puerto Rico in 1995, and while I've never met the chupacabra in person (at least, not that I know of), I've been a fan from the start. By the time I moved to PR in the late 90s, much of the hoopla surrounding him had died down, but his presence could still be felt, lurking in the background, waiting. I think now what he was waiting for was me to tell his story.

Is there a dog? 

Yes--so glad you asked. I love to talk about my dog! I adopted him based solely on his picture (left below) and the name the shelter staff gave him--Matt and I are huge Harry Potter geeks. He was scheduled to be killed the next day, so I wasn't going to dicker about minutia like size, sex, health, or training. When we got him, he'd been neutered and groomed and looked like a different dog (middle picture.) He turned into this amazing agility dog (left). Seeing him as three very different looking dogs gave me the idea for the chupacabra-dog-god's transformations as he gets stronger.

Chupacabra vs. Lassie: Who wins, and why?

Tough one...All dogs have magic--they soothe us when we're worried, make us smile when we're down, and on those days when we might want to crawl under the covers and ignore the world, they magically make us get out of bed to feed and walk them. Both Lassie and the chupacabra understand language, take down the bad guys, and both would sacrifice themselves for the people they love. But, the chupacabra's extra abilities (you'll have to read the book to find out what they are) make him the winner.

Imagine a glam cover shot of the Chupacabra. Time Magazine or GQ? Why?

Oh dear...I can see this go either way. The chupacabra is a pretty handsome guy with his flowing hair, waving tail, and sexy come-hither look. So, he could totally be on the cover of GQ.

But, he's a humanitarian (animalitarian? zooitarian?), too, showing mercy to those who are suffering. That could certainly land him on the cover of Time, even man of the year.

Here's a sample of both. Let's let the readers decide!

You're a marine biologist, for dog's sake. Why not write about a sea monster?

Funny you should ask--a sea monster did help me to write Ye Gods! I wasn't sure if I could make a magical chupacabra god-dog believable, so I looked to other magical realism stories to see how some of my favorite authors got the reader to suspend disbelief. Christopher Moore is a master of that and I really studied how brings magic alive in the modern world. The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove is the funniest sea monster story every--I highly recommend it when you need a good belly laugh. And who knows? There could be a sea monster in one of the upcoming chupacabra books (The Chupacabra Stories will be a trilogy).

As you know, the world is going to hell in a haversack--Putin, ISIS and all that. How can you be so funny at a time like this?

If I didn't find a way to laugh, I'd cry and give up all hope. What humans do to other humans is mind-boggling, mostly because it's intentional. But what truly terrifies me and keeps me awake at night is what we're doing to the planet and to the other species--mostly without a clue what we're doing. Humor makes me look at the picture from a different angle, a fun-house mirror-image that exaggerates and distorts humanity's foibles, shows how ridiculous we look. By laughing at ourselves, maybe, hopefully, we realize that something in that image needs to change. That hope keeps me at least a little bit sane.

Ye Gods! and Marina Melee are both available in print and ebook format here, and in print from the publisher, Casperian Books.

Sunday, September 07, 2014

Las Cruces Riff

The back yard

Came down in oh-six to Las Cruces, City of the Crosses in the Land of Enchantment, left New England behind forever. Drivers don’t flip you the bird down here if you cut them off. A traffic jam is six cars at a stoplight. Waiters speak English to customers, Spanish to each other. Learned about ocotillos, chollas, roadrunners, arroyos. Spring winds whip sand into skin-stinging “enchantment,” a local quip. Summer sun, triple digits, head for the mountains. Eight years, no rattlesnake sightings, but one day on El Paseo Boulevard a camel rode by in a pickup truck. In-laws don’t visit, too far, thank God. When you're out of town, you’re out of town. Sixty miles west, another town if you care to look. Forty miles east, El Paso and Juarez. Quiet here, quiet and dry. Uncommon rains fall in gray sheets slanting off billowing cumulus clouds over the Robledo Mountains, and the west winds blow the tangy scent of wet creosote into the city.
When you're out of town, you're out of town.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Flash fiction: Blind Date

Faith ate the last bite of her watercress while Tom wiped hamburger grease and ketchup from the corner of his mouth. This was her umpteenth blind date since her divorce went through last year, and she’d finally found a good man. Tom went to the gym six days a week and called his parents every Sunday. He’d talked with her about books and movies and admired Meryl Streep in Iron Lady. He’d said “It’s about darned time we had a woman president.” He’d actually said darned. The man didn’t even swear! He had a square, manly jaw and blue eyes that made Faith think of Adonis. And did she really see a ray of sunlight glint off those perfect teeth?
The waitress placed the check between them, and Faith reached into her purse for her Visa card. Dutch was fine, of course. She expected that. Warmth suffused her face. Oh, to be alone with this man.
Faith looked at her watch. “Well, I have to get back to work,” she said with a twinge of regret. “I really enjoyed your company.”
Tom smiled. God, could he smile. “Me too, Faith. It’s good to get out of the salt mines once in a while.”
She wondered if she should take the initiative or wait for this terrific guy to speak up. A bit nervously, she said, “You know, I would really like to see you again. Do you think—?”
“I would, Faith. You’re very nice, and you’re a great listener.” Tom pushed his chair back, ready to leave without glancing at the check. “But no. I don’t date fat women.”
Later in the afternoon, Faith explained these events to the detective in Central Booking, but she couldn’t explain the steak knife in Tom’s chest.


Friday, August 08, 2014

Death and the Maiden

This is a brief excerpt from my novel in progress, Death and the Maiden:

We held each other quietly for a few minutes. With my fingertips I felt the soft skin of her neck, then gravity—or a force even stronger—lowered my hand to the top button of her blouse. Against my face, her breath felt like an elixir that might forever entwine us inside Alladin’s Lamp.
Before I realized how mawkish that sounded, my cell phone rang. Beethoven’s four V for Victory notes meant it was Willis Chubb. The ringing stopped and started again, Willis’s signal that it was urgent. Hope’s left breast felt like a hot plate. We looked at each other, Hope’s eyes showing a mixture of lust and resignation. She nodded toward my phone.

I reluctantly answered it. “Hey, Willis.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes. What’s so important?”

“How’s Hope? I heard.”

“Just fine. You’re on days. How’d you know?”

“Eyes and ears, twenty-four-seven, you know me. It took the city’s finest a half hour to find the perp at Saints ER. The douchebag’s name is Chuck Roswell. He showed up with one of your friend’s fancy fingernails stuck in his eyeball, he’ll probably trade it in for a glass one.”

Thursday, August 07, 2014

Review: Mastering the Art of Quitting

This review was first published by the Internet Review of Books on July 11, 2014.

Why It Matters in Life, Love, and Work

By Peg Streep and Alan Bernstein
262 pp. Da Capo

Reviewed by Bob Sanchez

Your job isn’t what you expected. It’s not only harder, it’s unsatisfying. You’ve invested untold hours trying to become a competitive swimmer, insurance salesman, or ballet dancer.  It’s my fault, you may be thinking. If only I try harder…. Persistence pays…. I think I can, I think I can. Over and over you repeat the mantra, Winners never quit, and quitters never win.

And you may be right. Or not. Never giving up worked for Churchill, but his country’s very existence was on the line. It worked for salesman and professional optimist Zig Ziglar, and of course for countless others, depending on their goals. So when is it okay to quit and not soldier on?

In Mastering the Art of Quitting, authors Streep and Bernstein assert that there are times to see a goal through, and there are times to change direction. To quit. “American mythology doesn’t have room for quitters,” they state, but “Quitting not only frees us from the hopeless pursuit of the unattainable but permits us to commit to new and more satisfying goals.”

Don’t stick with something that’s no longer right for you, they say, just because you don’t want the “quitter” label. The authors cite the example of a competitive swimmer who injures her shoulder and decides to work through the pain—no pain, no gain, and all that. As she persists, her shoulder gets so bad she can hardly lift her arm, let alone swim. By the time she finally quits trying, she has a lifelong injury.

A problem is “our inability to assess ourselves and our talents realistically.” Most of us tend to rate ourselves as above average, and sadly, we are not our own best judges.

Another danger is the “Sunk Cost Fallacy.” We all tend to reason that we have invested so much into this job, hobby, marriage, or college education that we have to continue in the same direction. Perhaps the most tragic example:

…the logic that pervaded the thinking of America’s leadership about sending troops to Vietnam even as it acknowledged that winning, in the conventional sense, was impossible.


…how could the possibility of more people dying justify the deaths of others who came before?

And then there is another problem: What if reaching your goal will no longer make you happy? “Our belief in staying the course doesn’t take into account that who we are and what we want may change over time,” the authors write.

Psychologically, quitting can be difficult. Luckily, the book offers strategies and “skill sets” for quitting or disengaging. It certainly doesn’t mean stomping off your job, and it doesn’t mean a guarantee of future success. One of the tools the authors suggest is a “goal map” outlining what you want in life, work, relationships, and learning.

Mastering the Art of Quitting is well documented, well thought out, and easily readable. Almost everyone can benefit from its commonsense advice.

Wednesday, August 06, 2014

What's your favorite e-classic?

What's your favorite e-classic? That is, a literary classic you've read on your e-reader? So far, mine is Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. I read it on my iPhone only while pedaling a stationary bicycle at the gym, and my cardio chores went by quickly that way. Decades ago I'd read it in paperback, and the author's racist observations had been largely lost on me at the time. The writing quality is splendid, but the attitude toward Africans doesn't come close to modern standards. But it accurately reflects the times--late 19th and early 20th century, when Europeans felt that Africa was a land God gave them to despoil. But it's a compelling story with writing that's all the more impressive given that Conrad learned English as an adult.

If you're like me, you have a long list of oldies plucked off, say, Gutenberg, maybe more than you'll ever read. So if you could read only one classic, what would it be?

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

What's on your Kindle?

Ebooks are such a great invention. Even though I love physical books and regularly acquire new ones, books for my Kindle and iPad are just as important to me. The classics in particular are works I'd likely never have on my shelves, but in e-form they are just collections of a few trillion or so electrons. Over half a century ago, Jane Eyre, David Copperfield and The Merchant of Venice were foisted on my immature brain, and I hated them all. Never even finished reading them, actually. In the last couple of years I've read them and others through to the end--oh, wait, I still gagged on David Copperfield halfway through, but that's the great thing: the ebook keeps my place forever, so in a weak moment, perhaps with onset of dementia, I can resume following Master Copperfield's adventures.

Jane Eyre turns out to be a good story, but why assign an anti-semitic play to a poor ninth grader? As it happens, not much penetrated my brain back then, so no harm was done. Other works began to seep into my brain before high school was over, but it's only now that they are making significant impressions. Take The Iliad, for example. So far it's mostly fighting, with spears ripping through skulls--and darkness fell upon him. The brutal fighting gets a little old, but Homer's similes are humdingers:

He rushed across the plain like a winter torrent that has burst its barrier in full flood; no dykes, no walls of fruitful vineyards can embank it when it is swollen with rain from heaven, but in a moment it comes tearing onward, and lays many a field waste that many a strong man hand has reclaimed--even so were the dense phalanxes of the Trojans driven in route by the son of Tydeus, and many though they were, they dared not abide his onslaught.

My ebook collection is heavy on the classics, poetry, and self-published novels. If I'm blessed with a long life, maybe I'll get to read all of them.

So, to paraphrase the Capital One TV commercial, What's on your Kindle?