a Fair Substitute for Heaven

Sushi for One by Camy Tang

2012-01-27T09:50:00.000-08:00

Lex Sakai is a young, Japansese-American woman doomed to become the oldest single cousin in a few short month’s time. Her over-bearing grandmother threatens to withdrawal financial support from Lex’s beloved girls’ volleyball league if Lex can’t find a man…. and soon.

But, Lex is not your typical gal. Unlike the majority of her family, she and her three closest cousins ( and best friends) are Christians and Lex is a sports-loving, volley-ball playing male-repellant. She doesn’t know how to interact with guys and when forced to confront her singles’ group and volleyball friends for a prospective date, to appease granny and save the funding, her blurted-out lines are hilarious.

Sushi for One is unlike any other Christian chicklit you’ve read: at least it was when it first published in 2007 ( it has been followed by four other books by Tang in the same ilk: each focusing on one of Lex’s cousins and their journey toward romance ). Tang’s heartfelt infusion of multi-culturalism and the culture of her spunky, sprightly heroine is welcome throughout as she paints Lex’s relationships with her colleagues and her tightly-knit traditional family. Sushi is possibly my favourite food in the world and I was craving it throughout as Tang elicits some of her favourite Asian dishes in the novel. From sashimi to hot pot, you’ll be left salivating: in a good way.

As well as featuring a wonderfully unique and spicy heroine, Tang does well at painting a world relatively unknown in Christian fiction: the world of athleticism and sports. Lex’s job, her chance to play for an elite volleyball league, her endeavours as coach, her sports injuries and her passion for all things Athlete are a fresh twist of air to a genre where women are usually employed in more typified female gender roles. It takes the dashing (Tang says he smiles like Orlando Bloom) physiotherapist Aiden to turn Lex’s head.

Tang’s series boasts “romance with a kick of wasabi” and I can certainly appraise her narrative of having just that. This is edgy Christian chicklit, folks! It involves dancing, mentions of wine and hangovers, women who are too closely attracted and sexually assertive, flirting and spice. In fact, I loved that there were no self-reverential passages or italicized prayers. Rather, Lex and her cousins are strong, independently liberal Christians who put faith first; but also live beyond the bubble in the real world. This was a nice change to some of the overtly-evangelical fare I often read.

I found myself laughing throughout the novel: more at Lex’s subconscious train of thought and the snippy narrative than the many ( and I say WAAAY too many) accidents involving Lex and some sort of liquid. This is a little over-hyped: taking clumsy to a new level ---especially because Lex is described as possessing an athletic grace. Furthermore, a competent athlete would have the balance needed to withstand the multiple incidents which plague her. This goes from amusing to tiring infinitesimally. Otherwise, I found this a fresh and original chicklit and I look forward to reading some of Camy Tang’s other books!

You can buy Sushi for One at amazon
Visit Camy Tang on the web

Love Remains by Kaye Dacus

2012-01-24T12:43:00.000-08:00

Love Remains is my second read of a Dacus novel, the first being The Art of Romance which I enjoyed very much. The story arc connecting this book, Art of Romance and Turnabout's Fair Play (which is on my shelf for reading soon!) is the meddling of a group of faith-based grandmothers who want to see their single grandchildren paired off...but with standards. If the grandchildren of each of the unofficial group's members can pair up amongst themselves, then everyone is certain of quality matches.

Three unsuspecting grandchildren are Caylor (the heroine of The Art of Romance, Flannery ( whom I will meet in Turnabout) and Zarah, the heroine of Love Remains. Like Caylor, Zarah has a wonderfully unique academic profession at the Middle Tennessee Historic Preservation Commission, is built like a woman (and not like a stick insect), flashes her normal insecurities, has problems with eating a little too much ( and the guilt that follows) and with a bit of a backward fashion sense; but whose heart for serving in the church and whose genuine interest to please everyone trumps her desperation of finding a man and settling down: even while the infrastructure of her church wants to place more effort into providing good marriage and family examples for its singles.

Much like Jane Austen's Persuasion, Zarah's world takes a turn when former beau Bobby Patterson arrives at the scene. Convinced by her father that Bobby was an unsuitable match for the young Zarah, she remained single and heart-broken as he served time in the military. Now, he is back and the sparks that flew between them persist still. Will Zarah's pride and the curly head on her shoulders be able to withstand meddling from her friends, her grandmother and even from Bobby Patterson himself?

What Kaye Dacus does extremely well is explore the plight of singles in the church universe. For those who are unfamiliar with organized religion, Christian Singles ministry and the pressure (sometimes unspoken) of those who have chosen careers over love to mesh into a mould which appreciates the traditional family unit, this will be a strange land. For those of us who grew up in the church and have felt first hand how singular life can be when you attempt to find a dating field within the confines of Christianity, we completely recognize the insecurities and doubts which plague Zarah and her band of single Christian friends. When Zarah's single leader Patrick becomes engaged, the feelings of abandonment and surprise that follow will be instantly recognizable to those who have been closely involved in a Church family. The feelings of doubt, loneliness and insecurity ----as well as the little nagging thoughts of jealousy which seem to be so foreign to a world built on the tenets of theology will be all-too-familiar.

The book excels at presenting the life of a single woman with a successful career who is forced to contemplate her past and future relationship while reconciling her individuality with an unspoken mantra of a church duty-bound to present worthy examples of couples, marriage and family. Indeed, it was the separation and titles of the numerous Bible Study and Sunday School groups which rapt my attention: classes for singles, for nearly marrieds, for already marrieds, for those who have been divorced (Divorce Care).... Churches have the propensity to label within their greater structure. I will be the first to condemn this practice (having often felt that I didn't fit into any of the columns provided and having seen how it can unintentionally ostracize seekers) and I applaud Dacus for blatantly exploring the ramifications of this seemingly harmless practice on her heroine.

I did find this book a little slow at times--- as it explored Bobby's prediction of finding an apartment and working in Nashville and Zarah's workaholic nature lent itself to a few paragraphs of information dumping; but, on the whole, when it stuck to the budding re-kindling of Zarah and Bobby's relationship, the book was competently penned. I do find that Dacus has the propensity to describe non-essential details ( such as meals ordered and at what restaurants and what the characters are thinking about their relationship with food as well as fashion and clothing choices) which can detract from the movement of the plot. One particular instance sees Bobby deciding what he can eat at a pasta restaurant due to his failure to go to the Y and sign up for a membership. I find details like this superfluous; but, on the whole, the character portraits and the canvas spread out to present the vital details in the growth and maturation of Bobby and Zarah --- in and out of church--- was compelling.

Dacus' ongoing thesis provides older, single women a field and redefines the usual archetypes of Christian romance and Chicklit. I really appreciate how she battles the "tough" subjects, so to speak, infuses the pages with her own convictions and offers us characters we can relate to: in all of their insecurities, differences, failures, flaws and triumphs.

visit Kaye Dacus on the web!

Merlin: A Retrospective

2012-01-22T10:58:00.000-08:00

So, I have watched all four televised series of the BBC Merlin and often I wondered "WHY DO I KEEP WATCHING THIS?"

The rinse and repeat formulas, the stock episodes, the fact that I could figure out everything as it was happening, the cheesy lines, the bad dragon CGI, the Guinevere/ Arthur fiasco, Morgana turning into a boringly predictable baddie..... but I just COULD NOT QUIT IT ....

And I know why....

Because Colin Morgan's Merlin is the most likeable hero I have seen in an age. He is self-depricating, humble, gold-hearted, sweet, loyal, willing to give up everything for an idea, willing to hide his own talents and gifts to ensure his friend Prince (then King) Arthur has faith in himself, knows that he is sacrificing everything for a future he may not even see....

Merlin gives you faith in the goodness of people to be absolutely, wholesomely, sterling silver to the core. Merlin has numerous chances to leave his life as a servant to find riches or fame or notoriety or further adventure; yet, instead, he is so kind-hearted and lovely he remains Gaius' ward and assistant while putting up with Arthur's prat-ish ways and saving the world TIME AND TIME again without credit. Ever. WHATSOEVER.

How difficult his life must be ---to know that you are saving the world and not to have anyone acknowledge it....yet good-natured, sweet-smiled Merlin persists because he knows what he is doing is right.

A hero on television with a stalwart conscience.... how pleasant. Merlin never wants a reward. At one point, and I paraphrase, Sir Gwain mentions that the reason he loves Merlin is that Merlin does wonderful things without ever knowing, or getting credit for them. He just does it. Because he's whole-heartedly, "awww shucks" good.

Slight things make him happy, the whimsical banter with Arthur keeps him propelled forward and the dream of an idea keeps him chugging. He never takes advantage of his position, he would die willingly for his friends and he always does what is right.

With great power ( which Merlin has in spades) comes great responsibility. It is impressive on a kid so young with such a weight on his shoulders that he doesn't abuse it. While he keeps hidden the most integral part of himself: loaning himself to ridicule and humiliation, he is, in all other areas, a terrible liar. He only loses his temper once, he never complains, he is faithful and sunny and loving.

So, four seasons of the BBC Merlin later having withstood and endured some of the most WTF television in the history of time ... I can solidly, solidly say that I recommend this series for its incredible hero. You will not find a better or more noble hero on television or in film. He's not strong to look at, his ears stick out, he's dweeby and clumsy and yet he is GOLDEN...

So just watch it for him. You'll be taken in, I guarantee you, and you'll keep watching it for his insane ultimate goodness.

So, Colin Morgan, I'm on the side of your Merlin, buddy. I think you are just the gee-whillicker, aww shucks, adorkable hero this world of stupidity and darkness and judgment, hate and manipulation needs.

Long live you.

[the cutest scene you'll see today]

Film Review: the Artist

2012-01-21T20:18:00.000-08:00

I really think that the Artist needs to be experienced freshly: meaning the less I say about it the better. I knew little about the film and I loved it so much that my friend and I left gushing that we would let the film take us for dancing and champagne so did it captivate our hearts.

This is divinely delicious, de-LOVELY cinema, everyone and it MUST be experienced. It will leave you floating on air, clutching your hands to your chest, your heart thumping its own time, your senses ruptured by the absence of a kiss, by the fleeting and intrusive moments of sound, by the silence that speaks louder than any scripted words possibly could.

This is a phenomenal cinematic achievement and it MUST be WATCHED!

GO.WATCH.IT.

George Valentin ( a perfect homage to Rudolph Valentino with rapier moustache and dazzling smile ) and his lovely leading lady, the perfectly peppy and charming Peppy Miller will sweep you off your feet as the silent era ends and talkies begin.

Go. GO WATCH IT NOW!

Remember your first time watching Chaplin's City Lights and that giddily light feeling you had as if you had tasted a bit too much wine....your head spinning, your fingers tingling? This. THIS will leave you with the same imminent sensation.

BBC Merlin: Servant of Two Masters

2012-01-18T16:13:00.000-08:00

By the time we get to the fourth series of the BBC Merlin things have gone to HADES! I am not giving you a spoiler alert because, seriously people, do you really think this show holds anything surprising? No. You have a brain (I think), you could probably figure this out. It's not the easily-deduced destination, my lovelies, 'tis the JOURNEY.....

Uther Pendragon (Looks like Rupert Giles) is no more!
Morgana is an uber-baddie ( as we knew she was destined to be)
Merlin has a purple shirt to add to his alternating blue and red ones
Guinevere's dress line has sunken way too low (and her clothes no longer fit her busty proportions)
Arthur is as opposed to sorcery as his father was....

It's a MESS....

And so, our regular rinse and repeat formula adds a few necessary changes. Sure, there are still the CGI beasties and bad knights and armies and threats to Camelot and Arthur and Guinevere and Guinevere and Arthur and people getting kidnapped and royalty showing up wanting to marry someone... so on and so forth....

EVIL MORGANA cannot AFFORD A HAIRBRUSH!

but there are additional plot lines to rotate like :

NATHANIEL PARKER being a traitor but, like Morgana before him, no one can SEE THAT HE IS A TRAITOR
Gwaine being a close and awesome ally of Merlin ( really, next to ye olde Merlin, I think Gwaine is my favourite of the series! )
Lancelot may or may not be dead
there be DRAGON magic
As quickly as you can say "Robert Goulet", Merlin can transform himself into a wizard a la 80 years old "Sword in the Stone" esque ---his TH White-ness guise.

Also, by the fourth season, someone is going to be abducted by Morgana and her henchmen at least once an episode. Sometimes it will be Guinevere, sometimes Arthur, sometimes Gaius, sometimes Merlin, sometimes Gaius and Guinevere AT THE SAME time... and so on and so forth....

So, as per usual, Merlin has to HIDE his magic! SAVE ARTHUR'S LIFE, put up with ARTHUR being a PRAT, put up with Arthur's sexually frustrated encounters with low-dressed Guinevere, Arthur's being an orphan, the fact that Morgana has added green eye-shadow and tangled hair to her appearance and that NATHANIEL PARKER has GOTTEN PUDGY since his Lynley days.

With all of this in mind, I give you:

Servant of Two Masters

ARTHUR and MERLIN are running away from baddies in the FOREST

MERLIN is wounded

ARTHUR drags him under a tree trunk

Merlin: Just let me die. I am not worth it. I am a useless servant and you are destined to be the GREATEST KING OF ALL THE KINGS

Arthur: *back-handed compliments*

Merlin: oh noes! I hear baddies approaching!

Arthur: stay here, wounded Merlin, I shall fight off this dozen or so men with my AWESOME SWORD

*SWORD FIGHTING*

But ARTHUR is OUTNUMBERED

Merlin: something something MAGICALLY spell SOMETHING magically spelling...

Arthur and the baddies are separated; but MERLIN is KIDNAPPED by .... WAIT FOR IT... MORGANA

I am going to put this snakey in your NECK, Merlin!

Morgana: I have evil green eye shadow and I never brush my hair. Who is Emrys?
Merlin: I won't tell you anything!
Morgana: I am going to get this snake to eat your insides much in the same way that Bruce Greenwood had that torturous bug in his ear in the 2009 Star Trek. This snakey will make you turn into an ARTHUR-killing machine....

*snake slithers inside Merlin's neck so that he becomes EVIL!*

GEORGE

MEANWHILE back at the PALACE:
Gaius: MERLIN is gone (heartbreak)
Arthur: I will find him
George: I will be YOUR NEW SERVANT
Sir Leon: we should go find Merlin
George: Look! Breakfast! My efficiency!
Arthur (shirtless): I miss Merlin. I know you are a better cook and my stuff is better polished; but I JUST CAN'T QUIT HIM
Nathaniel Parker: You must abandon thoughts of finding Merlin. He is gone forever! *sinisterly looks and plots as he is in LEAGUE with MORGANA*

ARTHUR goes to FIND MERLIN in the FOREST

EVIL Merlin: look! I was in a bog!
Arthur: MERLIN I MISSED YOU! *hugs*
EVIL Merlin: *evil look* I still look like Merlin! Look, my ears! But, I am actually possessed by evil snakey and am EVIL

MEANWHILE back in CAMELOT
Gaius: I missed you Merlin. You near broke my heart
EVIL Merlin: I am now snippy and sarcastic because I AM NOT MYSELF!...despite my ears and my general Merlin-ness. I am going to steal this deadly poison and go for Arthur's lunch!

*does so*

MEANWHILE at the PALACE:
Guinevere: Arthur! Here is your lunch!
Arthur: YUMMO!
EVIL Merlin *carrying poisoned lunch*: Eat THIS lunch
Arthur: Nah! Guinevere already gave me lunch!
EVIL Merlin: DAMN!

*Merlin feeds poisioned lunch to the pigs. Guinevere sees dead pigs*

MEANWHILE at GAIUS' HOUSE:
Gaius: Why would Merlin try to kill Arthur?
Guinevere: He must not be HIMSELF
Gaius: I can read about it in an old book! Ahh ...yes..... it looks as if he must be inhabited by an EVIL snakey!

....BACK AT THE PALACE:
EVIL Merlin: this crossbow attached in this wardrobe will ensure ARTHUR'S demise!
*it doesn't*
EVIL Merlin: the crossbow didn't work; but look! Poisoned BATHWATER!
Arthur *has no clothes on*: I am ready for my bath
EVIL Merlin: he he he he he he
Guinevere: STOP!
Arthur: GUINEVERE! I HAVE NO CLOTHES ON!
Guinevere: You must not get into the bath today.
*AWKWARDNESS*

ARTHUR with NO CLOTHES!

....and at GAIUS' HOUSE
*Gaius gives EVIL Merlin a potion to make the snakey inside his neck dormant*
TEMPORARILY UN-EVIL Merlin: so if I don't find the source of the snakey sorcery then I will be EVIL Merlin forever...doomed to kill Arthur and stuff and be all snippety and be meaner than my ears and general physiognomy would seemingly permit me to be?
Gaius: Yes. All of that. Go forth and destroy the Snakey!

*TEMPORARY UN-EVIL Merlin dresses up as OLD MERLIN and goes to find Morgana.... DEFEATS THE SNAKEY so that TEMPORARILY UN-EVIL Merlin becomes AWESOME Merlin of old once more*

MEANWHILE...BACK at the PALACE:
Arthur: I think you spend all the time at the tavern
Merlin: I can't tell you otherwise; lest I BETRAY the fact that I am always off DEFEATING BAD MAGIC and saving your life. So yes, treat me like the dolt I am...
George: I am here to teach you how to polish armour
Arthur: Let me laugh like the PRAT I am! But my Pratish heart still beats for you, Merlin. I am fond of you.
Merlin: awww. shucks. Some things NEVER change

THIS be AWESOME Merlin! Look! how cute! EARS!

BOOKS in the NEWS!

2012-01-18T10:41:00.000-08:00

the BBC Sherlock boosts Arthur Conan Doyle book sales
Vintage Toronto Ad for the Toronto Telegram
Fans await no-show "Poe Toaster" ---nevermore....
The Telegraph does a "My Week" segment with our beloved Anthony Horowitz

The Girl Who Loved Sherlock Holmes: A near lifetime love affair with my fictional opposite

2012-01-17T13:26:00.000-08:00

The other night I re-read The Final Problem while waiting to watch the last episode of the second series of the BBC Sherlock. I remembered the first time I read the story. It was from my school library and I stayed up until 2:30 on a Wednesday night to finish it. For me, at that moment, there was no looming alarm clock in the morning or a sleepy day of classes ahead, there was just me and Sherlock and Watson who, at the time (and maybe still ) were my best friends.

We fictionally creative people spend life as outsiders: flooding moments which lead us to figure that no one on earth understands us and that, in turn, we fail to understand them has us fleeing to literary counterparts whose world we feel neatly fit into.

Throughout my latter elementary school years and well into high school, I felt safest between the shelves in the library, on one of those little rotating stools, revisiting my Sherlock stories. When I first read A Study in Scarlet my fingers trembled as I turned the pages excitedly. When my grade 10 english teacher assigned The Speckled Band and Silver Blaze as actual REQUIRED reading, I did a happy dance. I could hang out with Sherlock and Watson for SCHOOL and not just for fun.

As I grow older and as the Canon has become as much a part of my psyche as the other books which guided me through my formative, book wormy years, I have attempted to deconstruct what it is about Holmes and Watson that fits into my flighty little brain. I am eccentric, overly emotional, wracked with an anxiety disorder, prone to guilt and panic, intuitively religious, exceedingly, romantically imaginative--- everything that the asexual and rigid Holmes disdains...

So why, then, why him... with his cold, automaton-like machine-like calculations and odd, irrepressible habits and imminent genius and arrogant demeanour and coke-addiction and three pipe problems and ethereal grey eyes and aquiline profile and penchant to squeak obnoxiously discordant strands of music from a violin....why him?

When the 1881 Beeton's Christmas Annual first threw itself upon the greater reading populous, readers ached for a new edition of the Strand and for the notes from John H. Watson's famous military box thrown into the world in full-fledged splendour, exposing a mind of such great importance and significance he would become not only immortal; but universally mourned when thought to be dead at the hand's of his (insignificant?) creator. These characters were so much larger than life that many thought they were real, actual, earthly-habitants. A great mind with great deductive prowess and his awed flatmate and friend.

When I first visited Baker Street, I didn't allow myself to contemplate the fact that the home I was touring was fictional that the persons to whom the museum was dedicated never actually lived. I was, instead, enamoured by the authenticity of the room's layout and by the thousands of letters people still addressed to Mr. Holmes of 221B Baker Street. The literary pilgrimage was one of immense emotionally charged self-satisfaction. I was paying homage to a collective part of my psyche, my emotional upbringing, to two of my closest friends.

The pages of the 56 short stories and 4 novels have been read to shreds by me. I own dozens upon dozens of tomes, encyclopedias, pastiches, annotated and unannotated editions, biographies, works of religion and philosophy all indebted to the Great Detective. No one can convince the part of me that construes such fascination with his world is an imaginative one.

On my dream trip to Austria I went out of my way to get to Meiringen, just to see where Holmes had "perished" (and wonderfully escaped) at the hands of the dastardly Moriarty. The plaques therein and the museum devoted to Holmes' Swiss connection didn't seem to be relics of a fictional universe; rather part of a wonderful history--- a history I had faith in; bought into, loved and respected.

The plaque in London outside of St. Bart's which commemorates Holmes first introduction to Watson, the room at the Toronto Reference Library dedicated to one of the largest collections of Conan Doyle memorabilia in the world.... the mythos, the legend, the time-stopping, heart-grasping wonderment of it all continues to beguile me. As I learn more about myself and excavate the pieces and fragments which make up the individual I have become, this world is an indelible part of it. I owe my fascination with Victorian London and, subsequently, my passion for its literature to the smoky lanterns, rattle of hansom cabs and murderous fogs pervading Baker Street. Holmes and Watson's famous quotes, their moments of sarcasm, their colourful humanity pepper so many of my constant thoughts and speech.

And yet.... despite my ongoing passion and my determination to stalk the deceased Doyle's roots in Edinburgh this summer--- in an act of yet ANOTHER literary pilgrimage dedication to this fascination-- I am constantly questioned as to why.... why a bookish, romantic, imaginative and anxious girl metes out such literary investment to a calculating machine...

Everyone else as thrilled as I was when Benedict finally put that hat on?

It's because he's my opposite. Panic attacks in high school and university and nights spent sleeplessly, endlessly worrying found me seeking Baker Street for comfort. Why? because it's a measured world. Baker Street and Baroque music, together: you know his methods, you know his calculations, his moods, his rigidity, his asexuality. He never wavers in self-confidence the way I always second-guessed myself, he is never prone to doubt- the way I always thought I was doing wrong. He is assured, predictable, intelligently logical---everything I am not.

Sherlock Holmes is not swayed by bouts of imaginative fervour: he knows that there is a measured reason for everything and there is comfort in his ability to know all. Where people, futures, puzzles, problems, conflicting and abnormal doubts plague human minds like mine, his brain was beyond that. There is solace in his ability to unravel what we cannot.

For a girl raised in the spirit of evangelical religiousity: where rules regaled and faith took place of sight and touch and sound, so materializing Holmes' world offered a needed counter. He is so forthright, he is so steady.... there is nothing that will surprise or haunt or trouble you about him. He is everything that I am not.

Watson's adoration of Holmes and his continued awe-stricken fanaticism and enchantment mirrors my own. My love for Watson is just as potent as my love for Sherlock because we are both emotional, romantic and intelligent people--- unashamed to be baffled by a mind that, like clockwork, omits anything supernatural, unexplainable, borne of fraught imagination.

Thus, my overly emotional response to the predictable end of The Reichenbach Fall was precipitated by my engaging in the collective troubles and sorrows of two very close friends. True, the television medium portrays Holmes and Watson in a myriad of ways: some more similar to my earliest mental images as others (thus my deriving what I find authentic to the source material and what I think strays); but the new contemporary vision just secures my own faith in Holmes and Watson. They are century agnostic. They are not confined to the Victorian world of fog and smoke, they are as integral to our collective conscious as readers and seekers as they were when Doyle first created them.

I do love my deerstalker--straight from Baker St.

There is comfort in knowing that their fictional world exists and that the same imaginative plight that awaited me in surreptitious splendour the first moment I stole into their world and the hundreds of times I revisited will always be there: like magic, metric, measured enforcement.

They say that opposites attract and Sherlock Holmes, being in every way, shape and form my opposite, continues to be the great literary love of my life.

Thoughts on "The Reichenbach Fall"

2012-01-15T19:23:00.000-08:00

I know.... I know.... I am keeping to my promise of no full reviews of the second series of Sherlock until they air in North America.

However, the Fall at Reichenbach in and of itself is common knowledge so I can say this much about the episode.....

IT BROKE MY FRAKKIN' HEART.

I guess that's what happens when you see trouble happen to friends. For the record, Sherlock and Watson feel like my friends. I have known them of intimate bookish acquaintance for over 20 years and I feel strongly about both of them.

That's what we bookworms do.

So, if I can ever dry my tears from this stupid episode, I can stiff-upper-lip it and keep going until I am able to gush with all of you about the second round of this incredible series.

Also, Benedict Cumberbatch, if you asked me out to dinner... I would totally say yes.

Read about my trip to the REAL Reichenbach Falls in Meiringen, Switzerland here

BBC Merlin: The Lady of the Lake

2012-01-14T10:27:00.000-08:00

LOOK, how CUTE. Someone ruffle his hair and give him a COOKIE!

This is just classic television, everyone. You'll laugh, you'll cry; you'll laugh 'cause you're crying...
It's like Robin Hood on Speed--- with BEASTIES

Merlin: Why is that pretty girl in a cage?
Gaius: Because she is a magician caught by a bounty hunter. Uther Pendragon doles out big rewards for sorcerers caught and brought to him. BECAUSE HE HATES withcraft.
Merlin: *puppy dog eyes* Can we save her?
Gaius: NO! BECAUSE YOU WILL BE CAUGHT
Merlin: screw that!

-Merlin loses Gaius
-Merlin magically unlocks girl from cage and hides her in a cave and brings her food. They both have MOON EYES.

The Next Morning .... at the CASTLE:
Arthur: Go clean my boots
Merlin: *steals Arthur's food for new girlfriend*

MEANWHILE... back at the CAVE
Cave-Girl: I am Freya! I am a druid girl. You are nice. Look, your ears! No one has ever been as kind to me.
Merlin: I am the most genuinely sweet and sincere person in the world. Sometimes my eyes tear, see? That's because I am the most genuinely sweet and sincere person in the world. Look! I can elevate candles with my wicked-ass magic! * is cute*

MEANWHILE... at the CASTLE:
Gaius: Sire, I think that there are killings from this big beastie thing that must be conjured by sorcery.
Uther Pendragon (looks like Rupert Giles): Let us kill ALL THE WITCHES and WARLOCKS AND SORCERERS TO DEATH! Find the escaped girl from the cage and kill her!
Bounty Hunters: DONE!

MEANWHILE..... back at Merlin and Gaius' house:
Gaius: Merlin, did you release that girl ?
Merlin: *is a terrible liar*
Gaius: I think she might be a cursed beastie. Look, I have this picture in this ancient tome to prove it...
Merlin: NOOOOOOOO!!

MEANWHILE ....back at the Cave
Merlin: So you see, Freya, we should run away together where we can have a little wood house and eat cheese and bread and see a cow and a lake and stuff. Together. And conjure things with our magic. Being magic does not mean you're cursed; just happily different. Here, I stole this dress from Lady Morgana who is not in this episode because she is resting up for when she has to become that majorly disastrously bad-ass villain she has been foreshadowed to become. So, she won't miss it.
Freya: I want to go with you, Merlin. Because you are like a bunny rabbit, how sweet you are and how misty your eyes and how be-dimpled your smile. Go pack provisions for our journey.
Merlin: *cluelessly besotted* Sure! I'll just leave you here.

MEANWHILE... the Clock strikes Midnight. Freya TURNS INTO A PANTHER WITH BAT WINGS....
--lunges to kill the knights of Camelot and that Prat Arthur ....then sees Merlin....which MELTS her panther's heart.

Freya: *no longer a panther w. bat wings* So you see, Merlin, I am dying from my curse.
Merlin: *CRIES* I shall take you to a lake and Lady of Shallott you in a boat for down-stream *takes her to a lake and does just so, cutely*
Freya: okay!
Merlin: *sends her in a boat and causes the boat to catch fire then CRIES*

MEANWHILE ....back at Merlin and Gaius' house
Gaius: I am sorry your girlfriend is dead. I will now hug you.
Merlin: I am sorry that I lied because I am the nicest guy in the world. Ever.

MEANWHILE....back at the PALACE:
Arthur: Merlin, you seem sad. This makes me conflicted; because we're not really friends and I treat you like rubbish; but I also like you and am not sure how I understand this. So, instead of talking it out I will give you a noogie *gives Merlin a noogie*

THE END

Blogher Book Buzz: Wonderland Creek

2012-01-13T08:24:00.000-08:00

I was so excited to hear from BlogHer last week informing me that my blog had been chosen as the book spotlight today. Even more exciting, they are featuring my review of Wonderland Creek by Lynn Austin.

You ALL know how much I love Lynn Austin and I hope the love translates as more people pick up her amazing books!

Check out BlogHer: a repository for a blog under every subject you could ever dream of and experience their "life well said"

in which rachel has watched a few too many episodes of Merlin on Netflix...

2012-01-11T18:25:00.000-08:00

Basically, Merlin in a nutshell----

Teaser: something bad-ass wants to magically infiltrate Camelot and result in ARTHUR dying!

CREDITS

Merlin: I am Arthur's servant and he treats me like dirt; but I still love him and I am cuter than Harry Potter even though we both battle with not liking our destinies because I am humble and have a good attitude; even though everyone thinks I'm a bit of a dolt.

Look at how DAMNED CUTE this kid is! Seriously. Adorkable.

Arthur: Merlin---go polish something so I can JOUST

Guinevere: I don't look like anyone's conception of Guinevere ever and that is why I am awesome. And steadfast of heart. And sorta badass. Throw me a sword.

Gaius: I am wise beyond my years and one of my eyes is funky; I will counsel the king that there is magic in our midst while simultaneously hiding the fact that my much-adored ward Merlin is a SORCERER

Uther Pendragon (looks like Rupert Giles): SORCERY? It is all bad! Let's get some magic-genocide going here. KILL EVERYONE!

Morgana: I have bad dreams wherein I predict bad things: like Arthur dying and bad CGI beasties. I am so totally on my way to becoming Morgan Le Fey

Bad CGI Beasties: WE WILL DESTROY CAMELOT! sometimes THERE WILL BE A UNICORN!

Merlin: OH NO! BAD CGI BEASTIES! ARTHUR DOOMED TO DEATH! I must sacrifice my worthless life for him; but first.... to the dragon!

Dragon: they spent all the CGI budget on me. I am cool. I prophesy things. I am voiced by John Hurt. Young Warlock, you must cryptically save Arthur while cryptically accepting this other challenge which will remain cryptic for years to come.

Merlin: I willingly accept this cryptic riddle because I am waaaaaay too nice. Look, my ears! I am cute! someone ruffle my hair and give me ice cream

Knights of Camelot: Arthur, you're a prat! we shall fight said beastie/army/sorcerer to the DEATH

*FIGHTING*
*Merlin SAVES ARTHUR'S LIFE*
*Arthur assumes it is most likely a fallen branch or a bit of good-luck*
*Merlin smiles happy that Arthur is alive; is momentarily conflicted because NO ONE EVER acknowledges it; but gets over it*

RINSE and REPEAT

( this show is interchangeable with the BBC Robin Hood ---)

A Necessary Deception by Laurie Alice Eakes

2012-01-09T21:23:00.000-08:00

From the publisher: When young widow Lydia Gale helps a French prisoner obtain parole, she never dreams she will see him again. But just as the London Season gets under way, the man presents himself in her parlor. While she should be focused on getting her headstrong younger sister prepared for her entree into Society, Lady Gale finds herself preoccupied with the mysterious Frenchman. Is he a spy or a suitor? Can she trust him? Or is she putting herself and her family in danger?

A Necessary Deception brought to mind the following: Little Dorrit, The Scarlet Pimpernel and the Regency fare of Georgette Heyer.

However, what promised to be a light, engaging and romantic Continental read dragged by lack of literary confidence, strained dialogue and historical facts that bludgeoned each page. I really wanted to like this book. I applaud Eakes for her taking the usual Regency mould of high society and the ton and stretching it to the European continent. Moreover, for inserting a dangerous world of French prison and the blinking nearness of espionage. In an age that loans itself to adventure, to danger and to the looming war, Eakes had a canvas set out for her. However, a lack of literary confidence ( as mentioned) failed to bring this romance to its peak point.

The French dialect was passable and the characterization typical of this sect of Christian romance and yet the spark that I look for when choosing my Christian historicals completed evaded this novel.
This is not for lack of literary competence; rather inexperience. I had the darndest time trying to weave my way into Lydia and Christien's world, into buying their chemistry and seeing through to their happy ending.

The story is infused with some awkward descriptions and moments which should have had more careful editing. For example: "a muscle bunched in her jaw" -- the blunt and harsh and crass delineation of lines like this immediately releases the reader from the intended spell of gentility and forces them to wonder how a muscle bunches at all... let alone in one's jaw....

This sounds nit picky, I know; but readers of this blog will remember that I have traversed through some exceptional Christian fare in the past while and it only makes books which aren't quite on the same level pale in comparison.

A Necessary Deception is the first in a series and I do hope that Eakes will utilize her obvious passion for the era and her knack for historical research to write a crisper and more taut novel. With the help of some editing and her continual strive to find a unique and fresh perspective for a unique and fresh idea, we might have a promising author on our hands.

I have heard that Eakes' Lady in the Mist is a compelling read and I am not averse to trying it to see if I fare better in another world :)

My thanks to Revell for providing me with a review copy of this book.

TLC BLOG TOUR: Holy Ghost Girl by Donna Johnson

2012-01-09T09:25:00.000-08:00

Well over a year ago, I participated in the TLC tour for Not That Kind of Girl: a humorous and spicy memoir which took me back to my formative years raised as a Pentecostal minister's daughter in a strict home and community where I had to ultimately decipher what was my faith and if it aligned with the tradition and saturation of my youth.

In a much similar way, Holy Ghost Girl spawned an experience of reflection. A harsh one, at that, due to some extenuating circumstances I choose to keep private from this blog. Needless to say, and without further explanation, this book hit very close to home... as all books about fervent evangelical Christianity do. As is the case with the aforementioned Not That Kind of Girl, Johnson does well at refusing to pass judgment and keeps an open-mind and a sense of tender humour as she navigates the world of the past. Her world involved non-stop travel with the tent revivalist David Terrell, to whom her mother was organist.

The music, the smell, the swell of fervent and loud prayer; the ritual of dance and speaking in tongues, the homage to one sect of the Pentecostal movement spun in 1906 are all clearly portrayed. Anecdotal, compassionate and filled with an incendiary power and wit, Johnson unravels a world of destruction, secrets and greed while still maintaining a healthy respect for the followers who practiced what they preached and lived as they should live.

Johnson, like I, seems to assert the belief that Faith is an extension of church and the rituals of organized religion and, thus, any fallacy found within its practice is borne of human frailty and limitation. With this in mind, I could read about the terrors and secrets of Terrell without feeling that the Faith I still maintain was attacked.

My father was a Pentecostal minister ( he is now a chaplain ) and he is the opposite of the minister portrayed in the book: he follows the Bible literally; but treats everyone equally and offers love before judgment; grace before condemnation. Because of this example, my experience with Pentecostalism is not as destructive as Johnson's. Nonetheless, outside of my father's church, at healing revival services, youth conventions, worship services and as the Vineyard movement swept Ontario in the early 90s, I was able to witness things that I still maintain a healthy scepticism about. The betrayal of congregation members; the inevitability of duality; the deception of what is actually a supernatural, metaphysical charge and what is borne of human excitement and euphoria all struck very close to home.

It is hard for me to write about this book because it speaks close to home: not the circumstances in the plot; but the elements of faith, of music, of prayer. Organized religion can effect children in numerous ways. For Johnson, like myself, church was merely a part of childhood. I cannot imagine my upbringing without it and stripping myself of it would mean ripping out an integral, ingrained part of my life for 30 years.

As much as Johnson's experiences were tumultuous, there is a kind of vapid loss as the tent revival craze (revivals had been a major part of Evangelical services for centuries in their own incarnations) slowed down and megachurches and television evangelism sprung up.

Johnson speaks candidly about witnessing miracles, about the historical relevance of tent revival services and about the abuse she suffered at the hands of Terrell and the troubled Sister Coleman. Terrell, a con-man, adulterer and fraud, is not painted surreptitiously as an everyman of the evangelical sect; rather someone Johnson separates from the world of true faith. She does not paint Christianity as negative; rather humans who have fallen prey to the ease of popularity, the almost mystical night-time world of spirit-filled change and the belief that they are at one with God.

I appreciate her speaking to this in a delicate manner allowing those who practice Evangelical Christianity to read her story with compassion, to click their tongues at moments where humans use God's divinity for personal goal, and yet to be able to hold her head high and respect the followers who live in a way they feel they must, are destined to, which best glorifies God in the way they know how.

I knew that this book was going to strike a chord because the Pentecostal movement is so inbred in my consciousness and a wealth of memories: both good and bad flood me whenever I read about it: read lyrics to the chorus of a familiar song, read about the fervour behind healing services, read of the mystery of speaking in tongues, of dancing in the spirit, of being filled with the Holy Spirit: all things which are a mainstay of the Pentecostal movement.... which still exists today.

What I most enjoyed about the book was how it touched on humanity and grace in what was apt to become a whirlwind circus of betrayal, ambiguity and despair. In fact, I enjoyed how under the tent, even those who leaned toward bigotry in every-day life practiced equality. The Civil Rights movement was alive and well in tent revival services: all were equal when approaching the spirit-filled mania of a service. There were violent repercussions and not all believed in the freedom of worship stayed by Terrell and his ilk; but many fought for freedom and risked their lives to support that ideal. THAT is one of the moments of true Christianity I found in the pages of this novel.

It's hard for me to write about this because it is hard to speak about something that has posed a series of conflicting emotions, of loss, of gain, of tears and safe haven; of a walk-down-memory-lane; of revisiting a hyper-intensive world that I carry; but do not completely subscribe to.

Donna Johnson recognizes something that all who are minister's kids (like myself) or missionary's kids or organist's kids (like Johnson) must learn: that there is a crucial moment in young adulthood where the ultimate decision must be made: are you going to continue to follow in your parent's faith ---with all of its glories and moments of euphoria and moments of despair and doubt--- or are you going to assess Faith on your own terms and decide what it means to you.

For people so immersed in religion at a young age; it is hard to speak to it without feeling drowned by its significance in your upbringing. To speak ill of it seems to betray my foundation; yet to colour-coat it seems to contrast the Faith I uphold now.

I guess it comes down to people. Humans are frail, humans misinterpret, humans betray....

Faith is perfection; humans are wont to fail... we cannot expect the human experience in the pursuit of God to be unfailing and unflappable because then we would be speaking to perfection ---something to which God holds alone. Johnson, like myself, still professes to be a Christian: still spends time in contemplative prayer; still strives to find Truth and God outside of the constraints of human frailty. She loves the ritual of church; but is off-put by the new "Self-Help" trend of mega-churches.

In an interview included in my review copy of the book, she notes the followers she most respects: those who store no earthly possessions, who rely on God, who help each other. It is this moment and other grace notes that keep her opinion of Faith staid from the easy temptation to wallow on its inconsistencies.

Johnson and her family had to travel day and night, restless, roaming, homeless as they ministered from State to State. I had a loving and secure home, a wonderful school life, parents who, though strict, believed in what they preached and treated others as they wanted to be treated. Infidelity and abuse were a far-cry from the fortunate childhood I had. Yet, I did identify very deeply with Johnson's story... especially when it spoke to the rituals of organized religion, of the fervour of the Pentecostal movement, at the fallacy of Christians who speak as of God; yet live in a way that completely revokes what they are preaching.

What hit VERY close to home was the tenets of Evangelism: the vernacular, the singing, the speaking in Tongues. It took me back to my childhood in a powerful way ---- it took me through my teenage years where I spent weekends in auditoriums filled with teenagers worshipping God, being slain in the Spirit, speaking in tongues--- it took me through the guilt I felt when I finally decided to leave some of my parents' Christianity behind as I tried to map through the inconsistencies and insecurities I felt to carve a Christianity of my own: borne of the love and compassion I saw ministered through preachers like my dad: while sloughing off the human frailty I witnessed in others subscribing to the same truth. The judgment, the hate, the ambiguity, the Sunday Christians, the lack of grace...

Christianity today is a multi-layered puzzlement. At its core, the Faith itself is one of charity, benevolence, Grace.... the epitome of Christ's teaching here on earth. At its worst, it sees the condemnation of the homosexual community, of women's choice: of judgment before peace and love, of instilling the fear of the Rapture with an odd calendar. This is, of course, not a white-wash of the entire community of believers; yet a nod to those who make the news. A nod to those like David Terrell whose time at the pulpit was a betrayal when you learned of the way he lived outside of the tent. Unfortunately, he is one of many who conned his way into the hearts of millions.

Not all tent revivalists are bad, not all Christian leaders are cons, not all who follow do so while betraying the very belief they so strongly pronounce.... Donna Johnson recognizes this and paints a tasteful and moving memoir about her experience. She does well not to preach, to point fingers, to universalize; rather she honours the moments of Grace she sees in her childhood despite the abuse and despair and secrets and betrayal. She recognizes that the faces she writes of are the minority, while allowing herself to revel in the blessing of Love, forgiveness and the rapture of realizing there are those who DO epitomize the workings of that which they subscribe to... unfailingly.

The most touching moment in the memoir occurs at the end: as Johnson attends a funeral--- her emotions are an onslaught of contradiction ... yet she is able to separate herself from the sins of the man now passed to watch, in jubilance, as she watches incarnations of Grace and love.

For those unfamiliar with the world of Evangelical Christianity, this is but one voice that speaks to its highs and lows: the same you would find in any religion or any gathering of humans anywhere. On a deeper note, it is a compelling memoir of involvement: of the inability to extract yourself from where you came from, how you were raised, what you learned. To defy your upbringing, is to extract a kernel of yourself ....

Johnson eloquently writes of "two worlds-- one under the tent and one outside. Each time I turned toward one, I turned away from some part of myself".

I have often felt divided as I constructed my adult faith while tweaking the experiences of my youth and forging a Christianity on my own terms due to my own appreciation, consecration, experience, reading, Biblical-immersion and yet I can no more separate myself from the experiences and religion of my youth and my parent's upbringing than I can forget who to set the table, or put my napkin in my lap, or say "please and thankyou" ---- or live without my right arm.

That's what struck me about this book. That's what was difficult to read. No matter how we feel unfulfilled by remembrances of childhood, no matter how memory preys to spring us back to the negative moments, the tears, the retribution... the more we must allow ourself to become accustomed to its formation. Johnson would never be the woman, writer, introspective surveyor she is now ---blending compassion with skepticism: rationalization with awe if she had not been a child of the tent, baptized in the rituals of Pentecostal charisma. I would not be the woman that I am had I not been taught under the billows of church: of services, conventions, learning, leading, following, singing, praying, doubting, believing, feeling, crying, feeling anger, feeling commitment, feeling betrayal and love and grace and being blessed...

Religion is a big scary world and Johnson's life in it was a big, scary one; but she is brave enough to know that that which sweeps our collective consciousness maintains two levels: the good and pure motivation borne of its purist form ( that which follows the Bible and the teachings of Christ ) and the fallacy of humankind --- to twist and serve faith as it serves them.

This duality will always exist and we need writers like Johnson to portray it while still maintaining a healthy dose of humour, of grace, of the prospect of redemption. I wish her luck as she writes more and uses her voice to expel the cult-like craze of her past while marrying her belief in the good in the world--- even the tent world.

This was a heart-wrenching book for me to read as it forced a lot of contemplation and a revisit to my past. I thank God I was separated from the sadness that framed Johnson's childhood; but nonetheless her scenes of Evangelical worship forced me to confront my own. I sometimes think that my life as a believer is made up of my finding God outside of human expectations (they are wrought with inconsistencies and the Pentecostal world is filled with regulations and standards that even the purist would be hard to attain), Johnson's book meted the write amount of reflection, bypassing judgment, offering un-deserved compassion and grace.

My thanks to TLC for the opportunity to feature this book.

Please purchase at amazon.com (one reviewer notes its similarity to The Glass Castle, if that peaks your interest)

a Study in Sherlock: I am SHERlocked

2012-01-06T14:34:00.000-08:00

hey all,

I am not going to be giving full reviews of the latest BBC series of Sherlock until they are available here in North America on dvd and Masterpiece (because, *ahem*, I probably shouldn't have seen it anyways and there are plenty of fans on this side of the pond who are waiting more patiently than I). Needless to say, I was flabberghasted by how AMAZING the first episode of the new series was. A Scandal in Belgravia cast a perfectly strong Irene Adler ( Lara Pulver) to mentally match wits with the always- delightful Benedict Cumberbatch.
Some viewers found this risque and I do agree with those who thought that the BBC should've shelved this episode until after 9 pm; but it is discreet in its way and I had fun with the innuendo, sexual politics
( challenging our much-asexual hero) and spice and sass peppering the eccentric world of Baker Street. If anything, Scandal in Bohemia, perfectly loans itself to this sensual interplay. It is very much about gender-struggle and who has power; Moffatt just ushered it into the 21st Century where things are much spoken of and less conservatively implied.

There are plenty of insider jokes in the first episode for we Sherlockians and enough of an homage to stay true to the spirit of Scandal in Bohemia-- one of my all-time favourite short stories of the Canon.

If you manage to see it before-hand, you are in for a treat. Moffatt and Gatiss are even stronger in the writing department this year ( if that is at all possible) and I am itching for Hounds of Baskerville on Sunday.

A trailer featuring the gorgeous Lara Pulver as Irene Adler ... a perfect match for our great detective.

Film Review: War Horse

2012-01-05T17:15:00.000-08:00

Steven Spielberg is admittedly passionate about the work and scope of director David Lean. Lean, my favourite film director, had a way of poetically surging his cinematic canvas with epic light, moving pictorial narration and the perfect marriage of music to sequence and silence to render thought.

Spielberg's latest, War Horse, is like Lean's masterpieces in its epic artistic scope. It is an overtly sentimental movie and self-conscious of this fact. From the swelling music playing over the riveting farm landscape of Edwardian England and a cozy, cobblestoned village seen from high overhead to the closing scenes where a blood red sky shadows a lone rider and a tearful reunion, this is a movie best watched by those who love epics that play in traditional form. There is nothing new or modern or bold about this film; outside of the resources to perfectly capture the Great War with cinematic precision and a heart-stopping look. That, friends, is the base of its charm.

Spielberg's latest endeavour in War Horse marries a perfectly realized episodic script (based on the best-selling and well-loved novel by Michael Morpurgo) with cinematography that will take your breath away. His earlier war effort in Saving Private Ryan did little for me. While I appreciated the first moments and the brutal horror of his realistic battle sequence, I found the story to feel rather like American propaganda; rather than a perfect picture of life for the Allies on the frontline. Here, in the Great War, he does better at adding a universal feel (well generated in his gripping series, Band of Brothers). While War Horse certainly services the British experience on the home and front lines, it does well to incorporate moments of humanity behind enemy lines.

From the time the horse of the title is born, young Albert Narracott is beguiled by him. When his father, a Devon farmer, purchases him to spite his haughty landlord, Albert agrees to train him and turn him into a plough-horse whose efforts will save his family's endangered farm. The horse, which Albert calls Joey, is a wonderful and miraculous creature who quickly learns at the patient and loving hand of his new boy master. When destitute to pay the rent, Albert's father sells him to the British cavalry. Heart-broken and too young to join at the start of the 1914 conflict, Albert watches as the kind-hearted Capt. Nicholls leads Joey into action on the warfront.

Through his time in conflict, Joey sees the devastation of war around him, influences two young German brothers who are brought to quick trial on treason, is housed by a kindly French farmer and his spirited grand-daughter, is used to pull heavy artillery for the Germans and finally makes it between the lines: to No Man's Land where a heart-stopping moment between both forces results in Joey being rescued from barbed-wire which entraps him.

Benedict Cumberbatch, that kid from "Bleak House" and Tom Hiddleston riding Joey

The spellbinding and emotional fervour which drives the insistent Albert to his horse's side once more is nothing short of heart-breaking.

War Horse is a tale as old as time: that of a bond between a boy and his animal. This bond is unbreakable and it will take more than a World War to sever it.

As mentioned, the script does well at playing both sides of the conflict with tender appreciation. Even while the German side is negated for harsh treatment of horses, there is a willing private who yearns to secure the safety of the beautiful animals. The scene aforementioned which sees a young soldier from the British side, Colin, meet Pieter, a German soldier in the middle of No Man's Land to rescue Joey from his barbed-wire bondage is the most powerful in the film. Horses don't take sides. In fact, at one point, mention is made of the French carrier pigeons who are highly skilled at flying above the disaster to take messages to the other side. In the same way, the horses help by carrying wounded from the field and providing the officers with a well-needed bond as they make their way into the fray. Horses were trained to run away from conflict and here they are positioned to propel it with devastating results.

There is some emotional manipulation at the hands of composer John Williams: whose melodramatic score swells at scenes you are aware you should be moved by. However, most of the emotional resonance of the story comes from the friendship between Joey and Albert and how both need each other on the farm and on the warfront.

This is a remarkably moving story based on a remarkably moving book. I look forward to seeing the stage production when it starts in Toronto very soon.

Note: prospective readers should know that the main perspective of the novel is seen from Joey's viewpoint. While the film does well at showing Joey as he moves from episode to conflicting episode, it does do well at adding a human element not just seen from the limited perspective of the horse.... worth a read.

Great Adaptations in Context: The Lasting Appeal of "Great Expectations"

2012-01-04T12:47:00.000-08:00

[images displayed in this post are from the 2011 BBC adaptation of Great Expectations]

2012 will offer viewers two new adaptations of Great Expectations: the 2011 BBC miniseries starring Ray Winstone and Gillian Anderson (to premiere on Masterpiece Theatre in April) and the big-screen adaptation by Director Mike Newell.

The long-standing appeal of this particular Dickens novel allows it to sit well in a year where the Dickens Bi-Centenary will seep into the literary stratosphere. Great Expectations , and the many characters which dwell between its covers, remains a household experience for students and lovers of English Literature. It's interesting to note how this has become one of Dickens' best-loved novels: considering his prolific offering and the numerous books which could easily have taken up the Recommended Reading Lists of high schools and universities across the Globe. Yet, there is something about Great Expectations that loans itself to timelessness.

Dickens' usual themes of orphan children caught in a climate of social injustice ( you need turn no further than Uncle Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe's Christmas dinner sermonizing to realize how little children were thought of ) is resonant here. The kuntsleroman bridge that sees the flourishing of David Copperfield and, to some extent, Oliver Twist, features the (mis)adventures of Pip: a Cinderella-boy who climbs the social ladder under the most unlikely of circumstances.

From the Toronto Public Library ( where all good things are housed), I signed out a documentary: part of the Discovery Channel's Great Books series and narrated by Donald Sutherland. This was a great piece to help me reflect on my recent re-visitation of one of my favourite tales.

John Irving, Alfonso Cuaron (director of the modernized 1998 film adaptation), Ethan Hawke and a myriad of Dickensian scholars are on hand to talk to the lasting work. Cuaron references Great Expectations as "essential to the human spirit." Obviously meant to appeal to the high school literature student, the documentary relies heavily on interspersing its narration with clips from adaptations of the tale on screen: from a silent film version, through the 1946 David Lean version, pulling on a couple of BBC television serials and even showing parts of the modernized take.

John Irving speaks to how it inspired him to become a writer and the narrator speaks to the intensely theatrical presence of Dickens as a melange of popstar, politician and icon. The most important English writer since Shakespeare, that which is Dickensian is a universe unto itself: from the festive spirit of his trademark Christmas Carol to the downtrodden orphans which pulled on his acute sense of social justice.

Dickens believed ( and knew from firsthand experience), that children have a special capacity for perceiving the world; thus every orphan, such as Pip, is an emblem of himself. Pip moreso because he shared a similar physical upbringing to Dickens: that of the Kent marshes. For a child who was crassly pulled from a comfortable upbringing to work in a blacking shop to support his father's time in Marshalsea debtor's prison ( think Little Dorrit and also think of the harrowing prospect awaiting Pip before the intervention of Joe Gargery in GE), Dickens very much understood the power of social prospect. The fortune that befalls Pip looms like the Cinderella story we all yearn for: reward for seeming nothing.

Dickens was able to speak to this and to recall his own vapid childhood years while in the height of his creative powers. The public was putty in his hands and the medium through which he spun his yarns (that of serialization) allowed him to improvise: should the public outcry of critique resound upon the end of a weekly serial, then he could do what was needed to later change the outcome for more promising applause. Great Expectations, ambiguous ending and all, was a similar product to this method: published in 36 instalments in Dickens' magazine All the Year Round.

As New Yorkers eagerly awaited the ship bearing a manuscript which would seal Little Nell's fate ( in the infamously sentimentalized Old Curiousity Shop), so were readers left deliberately hanging for the next view of Magwitch, the secret wrapped up in the relationship between Compeyson and Havisham, the twist (a majorly lovely plot twist at that) surrounding Estella's estranged parentage. When Pip discovers he's a pawn used by Miss Havisham, Jaggers and, to some extent, Magwitch, the audience feels greatly with him. They are caught in his soap opera. His story becomes, like Dickens' own experience, very much their own.

Especially for Londoners. Dickens was known to refer to London as his "magic lantern" and a thriving, bristling, bubbling character it becomes in all of his great sequences of action. In Great Expectations, Dickens allows the reader to glimpse a bit of his personal childhood experience; but leads him still greater into the abyss of Newgate, high fortune, punting on the thames, excess and delusion.

Pip's illusion becomes our own as the orb of Great Expectations speaks to George Orwell's belief that Dickens' works were "not a series of books; but a world).

A lot of what was explored in his short documentary is familiar to those who have a past with Dickens (I studied him extensively as part of my Victorian specialist degree: even took a seminar devoted to him); but what it speaks to is the lasting presence of Dickens on society.... and to the lasting impression Great Expectations makes on social construction as a whole. The most gentlemanly acts, according to the documentary, and viscerally viewed in the novel, are those which act out of grace and redemption. What is a gentleman?, is a question that can well be asked of Pip as he mires through the mazes of self-discovery. What the documentary speaks to and what you will soon learn as you visit this tale, is that the most gentlemanly moments Pip has have little to do with his mysterious patronage or sudden fortune. Rather, the gentle way he speaks to a prisoner on the marshes; the way Joe gently guides Pip through childhood, Pip's loyalty and devotion to Magwitch as he nears the end of his life in blackened disgrace.

The measure of Dickens' humanity, in circumspect, is threaded in the tales that best reflect a mirror to our own shortcomings : a reflection like Great Expectations.

John Irving, interviewed, mentioned that he was saving one unread Dickens ( in his case Our Mutual Friend), for a rainy day. I think it's lovely that he has one unturned to look forward to, especially having heard him speak to the great influence that Great Expectations particularly had on his creative disposition. Irving mentions that he was disappointed in advance at the looming end of the novel; that it was one of the glorious books that made you want to slow down as you paced forward, for fear that you would run out of sentences too soon.

I sometimes wish I could rewind my reading history and meet the multitude of eccentrics I first encountered in the pages of a Dickens' novel in my latter childhood and teen years; but, alas, I am bereft of a rainy-day Dickens and must console myself with the prospect of revisitation: sometimes in the fortunate medium of film and television adaptations.

A Log Cabin Christmas: 9 Historical Romances during American Pioneer Christmases

2012-01-03T15:03:00.000-08:00

This collection of Christmas-themed short stories, published by Barbour features numerous writers piecing a patchwork quilt of scenes set in Pioneer America. Wanda E. Brunstetter, Jane Kirkpatrick, Margaret Brownley and Kelly Eileen Hake are just a few of the more recognizable names. Fortunately, readers are introduced to relatively new contributors who offer interesting portraits.

I will let you discover the magic and sentiment of each short story on your own; but I wanted to highlight my two favourite stories!:

I confess to purchasing the book to read Liz Johnson's A Star in the Night: a romantic glimpse into Confederate Territory during the War Between the States. Here, a wounded Union officer is caught behind enemy lines, fearful for his life while silently and subtly falling for his unlikely nurse, Cora Sinclair. Jedediah Harrington proves a brave and gentlemanly match for the spirited Cora and the picturesque unfurling of their budding romance in a small wintry cabin is a cozy treat. I was impressed with Johnson's historical knowledge and the way she effortless painted the Tennessee terrain of the latter 19th Century. Her passion for this sect of history is apparent and this short story is quite a unique offering when countered with the Love Inspired Suspense novels she has published and their modern, action-filled drama and intrigue.

I found myself caught in the clutches of suspense more than once as Jed decides to endanger himself by setting out into the cold, leaving his vulnerable helpers, Cora and her grandfather. Indeed, I was kept waiting an entire year before a Christmas as special as the first they spent together in the confines of their cozy cabin brings these two love birds together again. For a strong heroine, exceptional knowledge of US Civil War history and of the realistic portrayal of Jed's injury and subsequent healing, I rate this the highest of the stories I read. I was really impressed: especially as this story ventured from what I have read by Johnson previously.

I also quite enjoyed Snow Angel by Margaret Brownley. I have been working through her Rocky Creek Romance series and loving the spark and bite of each. Here, the refined schoolteacher, Maddie Parker is trapped by a snowstorm in her one room schoolhouse with her rowdy, hungry and cold students. Brusque Sheriff Brad Donovan, still aching from the death of his wife and child, is resolved to abstain from the growing attraction he feels to Miss Parker when he becomes trapped alongside her and the children on his rescue mission. The closed and confined space their relationship grows in, and the desperate circumstances ( not unlike the setting for Star in the Night) allows for a taut and suspenseful romance where you feel heartily for each of the well-developed characters; while knowing, with succinct dramatic irony, what they feel like sharing--even when they won't say it themselves.

A cute and funny addition to each chapter features revelations about the Christmas story adorably penned by the students in Miss Parker's 1885 class.

I marvelled at how closely I grew to the characters and how quickly I was able to empathize with their circumstance and champion their budding affection for each other. This is quite remarkable given the limited canvas Brownley had --considering the short story format.

I highly recommend this collection to any lovers of historical Christian romance. The Christmas setting just made for some wonderful wintry reading by the tree. It's a little too late this year; but consider adding it to your list for next December!

A Lasting Impression by Tamera Alexander

2012-01-02T18:29:00.000-08:00

Claire Laurent's greatest desire is to create a unique and lasting masterpiece; not continually copy and forge the masterpieces of the famous artists her father will in turn peddle at their New Orleans gallery. When her father dies, and Claire is left without provision and highly suspicious that her past will follow her, she craves the anonymity she finds at the historic Belmont Mansion in Nashville. Here, under the employment of the regal and eccentric Adelicia Acklen, Claire is able to break free from her past and start establishing a life of her own. When Sutton Munroe, an attractive attorney, crosses her path, Claire is certain that he knows more than he lets on and that their growing attraction may indeed lead her straight into the excavation of her scandalous past.

The War Between the States lingers as an inflicting and haunting memory as the stage is set for intrigue, romance, forgery, theft and redemption.

I must admit that I was growing tired of Alexander's usual canvas of frontier America and small Colorado towns. Luckily, Alexander has steered in a completely different direction in A Lasting Impression and inserts her not inconsiderable knowledge of Belmont, Adelicia Acklen and the world of 19th Cenury art into a charming story of life in the new Antebellum. I enjoyed the unique setting and Alexander's attention to historic detail. Moreover, I enjoyed how colourfully the world was painted: from Claire's early days in New Orleans ( a city whose geography I know quite well due to a stay in the Summer) through to her numerous encounters with the charming Sutton Munroe. Described as akin to The David in the text, I immediately painted him as actor Matt Bomer (see if you don't enjoy this mental caption, ladies, as you wander through this novel!)

As per a previous novel, I was disappointed that Alexander again attempted to infuse a French culture, dialect and a few threaded exclamations to match her heroine's background. Alexander failed notably with this before and having not yet conquered this flow, her dialect and dialogue were distracting.

I also found the book to be rather lengthy for the time it would have needed to cover the romance and the plot. Not many Christian romance novels sit at the length of Alexander's latest book and this is one case where a bit of editing would have made for a much tighter and more enjoyable read.

Nonetheless, I think this is a strong novel from an author whose previous books have always shown potential. It is quite obvious that Tamera Alexander's inspiring visits to Belmont wrought great creative insight and she excels at taking a historical character and flashing her in dimensional life as a support to the main action of the novel.

My sincere thanks to Bethany House for the review copy!

Please visit Tamera Alexander's website and blog

Learn more about Belmont and Adelicia Acklen

Purchase A Lasting Impression at amazon

Save the Date by Jenny B. Jones

2012-01-01T09:27:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, one and all. As many remember, I spent the latter part of 2011 unable to read due to recovery, focus-blocks borne of illness and a mental listlessness that preyed on the part of my mind usually reserved for gulping large chunks of book at record speed.

Fortunately, over the past two weeks, I have been blessed to fully regain these faculties and I have been reading, reading, reading like it was oxygen and I couldn't factor without it.

Save the Date is a spirited and charming romantic comedy expertly penned by a strong author who knows exactly how to work into putty the wants of her light-fare-required readership. Lucy Wiltshire runs a home for girls who are out of the foster system, yet not old enough (or loved enough) to start making it on their own. Saving Grace has recently lost one its biggest financial supporters and Lucy is afeared that the calling she has in beautiful Charleston is slipping through her fingers. At a black tie benefit, she begs numerous wealthy families, congressmen and celebrities at a last ditch effort to save the thirteen girls living in the home she considers her family. Alex Sinclair, former football star, all-around Playboy and congress-hopeful is the last person she expects to find a reprieve from. After all, he was terrible to her in high school and is the exact opposite of the stable Christian man she has dreamed off.

Ironically, Alex has a solution. Knowing that the polls show sliding ratings when he is caught in his usual romantically-haphazard style, he proposes that Lucy pose as his girlfriend and eventual fiancee until he gets a more stable footing and wins the election. In return, he will provide her with all the money she needs to save her girls. Two people who cannot stand each other are suddenly forced to act head-over-heels in love. It's rather funny and cute and surprising how in love they finally find themselves.

While on the surface this is a predictable romantic comedy, with spurts of originality ( I liked Lucy's Hobbits group ---dedicated to all things Sci Fi and wont to spend marathons of Battlestar Galactic-y goodness as well as Lucy's rekindling a relationship with a long, lost Grandmother and her flamboyant secretary, Julian), the themes of acceptance and self-image away from the destructive hatred and lies of Satan and borne of God's grace is poignantly woven and sternly spoken. I couldn't help but think back to Perfecting Kate: a novel which sent mixed-signals about self-accptance while promoting change and image-obsession in its wayward heroine. Lucy's experience is borne of the same afflicting helplessness and feelings of worthlessness; but treated in a much stronger manner and resisting the temptation to turn into a make-over novel. With God's help, Lucy and Alex's relationship becomes perfect and whole within its frailty and emptiness. It is the parts lacking in both that meld the perfect sum.

Using the spirited youth pastor, Chuck, as a vessel, Jones does well in exploiting the scripture in a meaningful and powerful way. As the girls in Saving Grace must learn that their lives are worthy of God's love, away from the rejection and helplessness of the past, so Lucy must learn that she is worthy of love and Alex that the guilt he has long held can be dissolved at the foot of the cross.

This is a surprisingly Christian novel: Christian in the sense that Jones does not shy away from preaching what readers need to hear. Indeed, her demographic of young women (not unlike myself) who struggle with the easy rejection and worthlessness our society and media tries so hard to make us feel, will find a deeper experience lies beyond the cute romantic story that scrapes the surface.

I was quite impressed by this novel and was delighted that it went deeper than my little romantic-loving heart projected at the first. I needed to hear that I was worthy. I needed to be reminded that darker forces would have me buy into the lies I hear as I step in front of the mirror, or assess other prettier girls at a party, or as I look over my face in the mirror of the elliptical at the gym and pit myself against the other individuals who seem stronger, fitter, prettier, more put together.

If you need reminding that God's love makes you perfect and that all He sees in you is the light He put there, then look no further than this deceptively sweet novel. It has a stronger message we could all use as we sally forth into a new year.

In fact, let's take a page from Jones' book and try to leave all of our feelings of worthlessness where Lucy leaves hers: at the foot of a makeshift cross in a youth group service.

Note: this is the first novel by Jenny B. Jones I have read; although I have followed her blog for a long time. Visit her there

Purchase Save the Date on amazon

I know the cover photo-shopping is awful; but see through it's cover--- the story is a real gem!

A Most Unsuitable Match by Stephanie Grace Whitson

2011-12-31T11:19:00.000-08:00

I must confess that when I first started this novel, I hadn't a lot of high hopes. The plot involving a newly orphaned heiress boarding a steamship to Montana where she hopes to embark on a search for a long lost aunt seemed tantamount to usual Christian romance fare. I knew that, while onboard, she would meet up with a dashing gent completely out of her class and that this, alone, would most likely propel the story to a typical romantic climax.

I was completely wrong. Every twist and turn in this surprisingly mysterious and enigmatic tale of life in a small Montana town bereft of the gold-mining fortune once predicted was compellingly readable. From the moment the first steamship catches fire and our heroine, Fannie Rousseau, is forced to alter her course, I knew that I had stumbled upon a deceptively simple book with a wealth of goodness inside. Not just goodness in the traditional Biblical message it inferences ( especially through the boat hand, Lamar Davis and Samuel Beck, a would-be parson en route to find his sister); but goodness in its unraveling of a thoroughly unexpected yarn. Indeed, the action really picks up when the story takes a complete curve: leaving all anticipation of a regular, hum-drum, steamboat adventure novel in the dust.

I was most captivated by Miss Rousseau's time and developing friendships in the crudely primitive rivertown, Fort Benton. The narrative involving Fannie's steamship carriage is well-knit: especially when Whitson threads it with the obvious research she did before setting to write of life on the river. The motif of Great Expectations, a book mentioned numerous times on the novel seems an apt reflection of Fannie's change of circumstance: from upward nobility to orphan on the brink of familiar ruin. Fannie's desperation to understand her deceased mother and to hopefully forge a new relationship with her lost aunt is touching. It parallels Samuel Beck's own search for his sister: abused and injured at the hands of their abusive father.

The themes of makeshift family and of circumstances changed to humble Fannie's upbringing are endearing to read. Solid characterization helps paint Whitson's novel in three-dimensional light. While Whitson does hold back on the italicized prayers (thank heavens), she does infuse her story with a solid Gospel offering in the old fashion "sinners repent"/come ye hither way. It is a delight not to find the Biblical themes convoluted or deeply and subtly ingrained: rather blatantly flashed as they propel the story forward. When Fannie finally learns how her prejudice has led to misgivings on true character, she is able to view her new life in Fort Benton in a new light. Moreover, as Samuel Beck leans more on the simplest of Biblical messages with a jubilance that loans itself to his boy-like wonder ( learning Jesus is coming back, setting up a makeshift service in a brothel wherein the sweetest of scripture and a few well-known hymns move his unlikely congregation, the aid of a freighter willing to help on a journey due to Samuel's being able to recite the Shepherd's Psalm he used to know) and packs a punch as it unfurls the deeper spiritual context of the story.

I was really impressed with this book; mostly because it's cover and backplot are as ironically deceptive as some of the outward appearances of Fannie's numerous and colourful encounters.

As for the romance plot, it is not as easily threaded as expected as not one, but two worthy suitors flood the pages and the reader is unsure which would be best suited to our newly intrepid heroine.

I highly recommend this book and I thank Whitson for unintentionally calling me out by the strong words within her covers. I honestly thought I was settling in to a by-the-numbers Christian romance wherein I solidly believed I could unravel the outcome. I was thoroughly wrong as her novel aptly took some surprising turns, is influenced with a well-plotted Gospel theme or two and is old-fashioned in its testimonial spunk. For those who love Love, there is a sweet theme wherein Fannie and her friend Minette describe finding love as an answering echo.

My thanks to Bethany House for the review copy.
Visit Stephanie Grace Whitson on the web
Buy A Most Unsuitable Match on amazon

Film Review: The Adventures of Tintin

2011-12-30T12:34:00.000-08:00

I was quite excited to see Peter Jackson and Steven Spielberg's imagining of the famous Herge stories. I always enjoyed the ginger-haired Tintin: an optimistic and intrepid journalist in 1930s-era Belgium (his home) and the European continent beyond where, with his faithful and intelligent dog, Snowy, he excavates all sorts of adventure.

The titular sequence of the film will honour the Tintin many of us recognize from Herge's straight-lined and minimalist illustrations. From there, however, the story is sprouted into animated wonderment adding a life-like feel to Tintin's (voice of Jamie Bell) search for the Unicorn: a long-sunk ship from the 17th Century, resurrected in three individual models which bear the riddle leading to its lost hidden treasure. Indeed, the film takes most of its action from the popular graphic novel of the same name.

Alongside the briny Scotsman, Captain Haddock (Andy Serkis), Tintin and Snowy race against time and from the oceany waves, a shipwreck, a capsized sea-airplane and to the hot wilds of the Moroccan desert to reclaim the missing links which will restore the Haddock family fortune to the disgraced and often inebriated Captain Haddock.

This is a really charming story and a wonderful dish of entertainment to replace the garbage we often offer our teens and young adults in modern fare. No ridiculous Twilight nonsense here: rather, another Indiana Jones'-esque adventure spiralling a good-hearted, mischievous and resourceful lad and his two funny sidekicks into a world of history and danger. Apparently Spielberg received Herge's blessing to film the animated Tintin before his passing in 1983. Some devout fans will be thrown off by the shift of a two dimensional Tintin into a full, human 3D form: but it does keep the same spirit of the stories: the quick, comedic dialogue, the flashes of adventure, the wily villains and Tintin & Co. spirited devotion to good.

The story was adapted by Steven Moffatt (of Dr. Who and Sherlock fame) and was tight, taut and a wonderful homage to the spirit of the source material.

I am not always fond of 3D films (Hugo was an exception); but Tintin worked quite well in visionary 3D: although, I imagine, the wonderfully colourful landscape of Tintin's adventures would also play well in 2D.

The Maid of Fairbourne Hall by Julie Klassen

2011-12-30T08:49:00.000-08:00

Like The Silent Governess and The Girl in the Gatehouse, I found little believability in the plot of The Maid of Fairbourne Hall: so quickly is it doled out and with so many happenstances and ironic circumstances. I was quite impressed with Klassen's The Apothecary's Daughter and The Lady of Milkweed Manor as she ushered out information little known of the Regency period, esoteric as it was in her weaving of it into the Austen-esque storylines.

While the setting and historical canvas of Klassen's work involves similarities to Austen, her modern writing and dialogue fail to emulate the great writer she is so trying to mirror. Nonetheless, I found this to be the strongest work of her past three and I read it in nearly one sitting so cozy was the story and so light and airy as to meet my requirements for perfect holiday reading.

Margaret Macy stands to inherit a large fortune come her twenty-fifth birthday. Her lecherous step-father and his ill-reputed nephew plot that they should place her in a compromising position; thus securing her need to marry into the family so they can whittle at her fortune as they may. Comparing her plight to that of the Biblical Joseph and Potiphar's wife, Margaret flees with her lady's maid and finds herself employed in Maidstone, Kent at Fairbourne Hall. Ironically, this is the country estate belonging to the brothers Upchurch: both previous suitors when Margaret was a belle of the ton. Nathaniel Upchurch had even proposed marriage;but the young and impressionable Margaret failed to realize the potential of the grown man who had developed so positively while under the employ of his father in Barbados. The other Upchurch brother, Lewis, is a dashing rake whose flirtations with various "chits" is as upending as his disregard for his family's hard-earned fortune.

Nathaniel has returned to oversee that the investments and income made by the family are done so in an appropriate and prudent manor: especially as he has begun disdaining his father's continued use of slaves in the Colonial world. Nathaniel's sister, Helen, is also in residence at Fairbourne, mourning the loss of her fiance to the sea and relegated to a life of spinsterhood. Margaret, now an undermaid called Nora Garrret, is able to witness first hand the glimpses of family life afforded those below stairs. As she struggles to keep her identity hidden and to waylay her growing attraction to Nathaniel, the man she had scorned earlier, she learns valuable lessons about the true virtue of character, of hard work and of the selflessness reliance on and working for others affords.

This was a big year for upstairs/downstairs stories: the wildly popular ITV production of Downton Abbey and the revamp of Upstairs Downstairs delighted the hearts of many period-loving viewers. Klassen has done well at recreating this world in the Regency period. Her historical knowledge is not limited and she does well at providing a realistic glimpse into servant life. Indeed, this is when her writing is strongest: as Margaret/Nora learns about the hard work involved in the running of the household and the hierarchy and politics at play in the downstairs world. As mentioned, it is not her historical knowledge that falters; rather her writing style, her penchant for superfluous chapter endings and portentous foreshadowing detracts from the Austen-like feel of her world. Moreover, she fails to create believable dialect for an Irish maid and for Margaret/Nora's assumed accent (more blatant having read plausible dialect of the same sort in The Colonel's Lady early this week).

Having recently finished two outstanding Christian novels (Wonderland Creek and The Colonel's Lady) and applauding the spark of originality in each: the individual author's propensity to leak their passion and personality into well-written prose, I was slightly deflated upon finishing this story. It is a competent story and certainly readable enough to keep you turning; but, like Klassen's recent work, lacks a definitive spark.

I kept thinking while ploughing through, that while I would gladly revisit the two aforementioned novels, this will be donated to a church library in the near future. I think Klassen does have a passion for the period: it is evident in her painstaking research; unfortunately, she is still unable to capture the easy wonder of her debut novel. She is remarkably gifted and with careful honing and some more good editing from our friends at Bethany House, she may just bring something as exceptional as my two previous reads in the future.

Sidenote: this book has one of the worst Bethany covers I have seen in an age.

You can buy the book at amazon
Visit Julie Klassen's website

The Colonel's Lady by Laura Frantz

2011-12-28T10:30:00.000-08:00

Okay, guys, The Colonel's Lady was one of my favourite reads of the year. It was excellent!: well-written, acute and natural flow of its historical setting, excellent, believable characterization and a bit of a mystery that had me guessing 'til the very end. The Irish dialect given to the dashing Col. Cassius Clayton McLinn was pitch-on (my brother's gorgeous Irish fiancee was in the room as I read it by the tree over Christmas and hearing her immediately set Cass's accent in the realm of believability for me) and the themes of yearning, truth and re-discovering faith were well met in a crude Fort defended by Cass and his band of intrepid blue-coats.

Frantz does well at painting the canvas of a time period she knows well. As in Courting Morrow Little and The Frontiersman's Daughter (both excellent books), Frantz paints a portrait of Kentucke in the 18th Century: a crude beginning of the now-United States and home to the Shawnee tribes she describes and writes so well. As in the aforementioned book, the Shawnee-White relations are explored here and well. I loved learning a little more of the history as outlined in the capture of Five Feathers and his ilk. Frantz paints the warriors as brave, true and insightful: lending charisma to their characterization while respecting their love of land and peace.

Indeed, the real calamity of the story is ushered in by Col. McLinn's twin brother, Liam: nicknamed Lucifer by Gen. George Washington and most of the other officers on the frontier and beyond for his primitive and brutish tactics. I was very much put in mind of the film The Patriot and the rather garish tactics of Col. Tavington: a redcoat set on destroying the Americans with his flashily jingoist Loyalist pride.

Roxana Rowan is determined to make it to Fort Endeavour: despite the war-like climate of the journey in order to reunite with her father: scrivener to the reputed Col. McLinn. When Roxana arrives at the fort she sets to finding home as she waits for her father's unit to return. Under the friendship and supervision of Bella, the African American servant to the fort, she learns her way around the kitchen, settles into her father's empty cabin and provides the remaining men at the fort with delicious meals. When Col. McLinn returns, he informs her that her father was killed in action and Roxana, knowing she has no other family, no prospective fiance and no solid future, takes her father's position as McLinn's scrivener. Fort life is painted in harsh and enduring tones as Roxana and her new community attempt to survive the wild conditions of the Kentucke frontier.

My favourite scenes included the slow-developing romance between Roxana and the fiery McLinn. His familial background and his inhabitance at the glorious Stone House above the fort were beautifully painted. I also quite enjoyed any scenes wherein communication with the Shawnee provided pages of negotiation. McLinn's honour dictated he try to understand his Shawnee prisoners and reach agreement to ensure the safety of both parties.

The scenes leading up to the major battles in the novel were also exceptionally written. I was captivated by the story from its very beginning and refreshed by a setting so unfamiliar to Christian historical fiction. While there is a strong element of faith in the novel, it is subtly threaded rather than preached. I felt quite heartened spiritually by the plight of this strong and charismatic heroine as she navigated a world so new to her. Also heartening was how her steadfast and strong faith encouraged and challenged the Colonel so conflicted by his past and the looming war.

This was an exceptionally well-written novel with an acute historical sense and characters you will be sad to leave after the turn of the last page. I quite understood Roxie's yearning for hearth and family and was touched by her imaginative painting of the Stone house and the books and furniture inside. Indeed, when she first is able to cross its threshold, I felt quite as excited as she at the prospect of exploration. This is not the only aura of suspense and the slow exposition of a spy-enemy within the Fort complex is well-written and kept hidden until a startling revelation at the end. Moreover, pieces of McLinn's past (the story takes Roxie's perspective in the forefront) is slowly meted out to us so that we are in turn surprised and delighted by the revelations of his history.

I really enjoyed this novel and encourage you to seek it out: as you seek out the first two historicals of this talented author. I cannot wait for Frantz's next novel!

Visit Laura Frantz's blog (I subscribe to it and there are lots of goodies: as well as entries on her historical research and love of period costume)
Purchase The Colonel's Lady on Amazon.

Wonderland Creek by Lynn Austin

2011-12-27T13:47:00.000-08:00

I think we all know what I think about Lynn Austin ( she has a tag tab on the side of this blog and you can read me go on and on and on about how she is just the best). You could argue that there are writers who have a more poetic style of prose, or a more literary style, or deeper thematic resonance; but you can't argue against her completely unique and special touch. She has a natural gift of narrative storytelling that is unparalleled in the Christian historical market. She has the "Lynn Austin" touch: an a-ha moment readers experience when they stumble upon the moment that makes a Lynn Austin just that!: a Lynn Austin novel. I revel in reading her books because I know I will come across that enlightening feeling.

As previously mentioned, Austin's ongoing thesis represents women of faith in time periods which test their personal and spiritual independence. Austin validates all women's roles: from battlefield to domestic; relying on the Providential to steer our strong young women into the part of the world that will best assert their natural gifting and enlighten them with the knowledge of faith she extends softly to her readership.

Her female characters are often cut out of the mould and so human that their plights become immediately relatable no matter the time period they are placed in. Austin's grasp of verisimilitude and her knack of historical resonance; as well as her dialect, dialogue and characterization are one-of-a-kind. Never one to pass on an original idea, Wonderland Creek uses the compelling backdrop of Acorn: a small coal-mining town in the primitive mountain wilds of Kentucky. Here, Alice Ripley, our intrepidly imaginative heroine, is lost in her own Wonderland as she discovers a civilization to whom the Great Depression has seemingly untouched: so poor and removed are its inhabitants from the news and modern life. Alice first visits Acorn when cutbacks at her beloved job are rendered inevitable due to the Depression. Having recently been dumped by her boyfriend ( tired of her bookwormish ways and high imagination: she is even caught reading at a funeral), Alice is left with too much time and listless frustration. She leaves her minister father's house and traipses across state lines to donate books collected by her small Illinois town. Here, she comes face to face with Leslie MacDougal: the librarian she had corresponded with via letter.

Knowing nothing about the town and failing to realize that Leslie MacDougal is actually Mack: the tall and overbearing man in charge of Acorn's small ramshackle library and its roaming librarians, Alice is unintentionally stuck in a world without telephone, transportation or radio. Settling in under the strangest of circumstances with Mack and the enigmatic and aged healing-woman, Lillie, Alice takes a job as one of a pack of mobile librarians: who ride horses and satchels up the eastern mountains to deliver the books and magazines which provide the only education and entertainment to the impoverished, wide-spread residents. The librarians are funded as part of F. D. Roosevelt's 1933 "New Deal" program: established to try and alleviate some of the harsher ramifications of the Depression. Mack institutes the program as a means of providing a handful of women with employment in an attempt to support the most destitute of families in the area.

Alice fails to anticipate the on-going feud between two families and the violent overtures it will take on her time in Kentucky. Suddenly a heroine in a real-life murder mystery, Alice discovers that the greatest adventures lie far from the pages of her favourite stories.

Alice is an immediately recognizable figure to all of us bookish types. She is a true bibliophile: most enraptured by her eventual hero when she finds he lovingly caresses and smells the pages and leather of a book much in the same way she treasures her own. The mystery and espionage as well as the greater statement against corrupt mine officials and the forming of unions make this a heart-palpitating story that will be difficult to put down. I read it in two sittings and was riveted the entire time. This is not uncommon for me as I dive head-first into one of Austin's captivating yarns.

As well as writing jump-off-the-page heroines and wonderfully-written tales, Austin reigns supreme when it comes to painting delicious heroes. She is a master of slow-churning, hard-won romance and some of her heroes (all decidedly different; yet made of the same, stern, strong and moral stuff that pulses through each of her books) are my favourite in all of Christian fiction (I think of Doctor James McGrath in Fire By Night and Silas McClure in A Proper Pursuit, to name just two) and Leslie MacDougal is no exception. In fact, Mack reminded me a lot of Barney in The Blue Castle: just as Valancy has a winsome guide to steer her through the mystical woods; so Mack can lead the equally dream-like Alice through the woods like a book. His faraway wood cabin and his dapples as an author help paint the Barney motif. Moreover, a dimple when he smiles and overlong hair which surprises Alice when it first receives a long overdue cut. He's really quite dishy!

If you haven't read Lynn Austin yet; well, you are missing a treat. Every single one of her novels is a decidedly different delight and she remains the strongest writer in the Christian market. She has an interesting way of painting faith in a subtle and moving way that will challenge you: sometimes without your wholly being aware of it until days after. I will read this, as I do other Austin novels, to shreds.

Visit Lynn Austin on the web and peruse ( and then buy) all of her books. She has won more Christy awards in fiction than any other author and they are always well-deserved.

Film Review: A Shine of Rainbows

2011-12-23T13:30:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't been reading a lot lately; but I hope to get back (slowly) into the swing when I go home for Christmas. Part of this is due to the fact that my focus and short-term memory (due to a new bout of meds) has been somewhat on the fritz. It is getting better though, as I become used to the medicine, and I can see myself performing my favourite activity in the world: reading on the couch near our Christmas tree when I visit my parents' house for holidays, in the very near future.

I packed some Elizabeth Peters and some Georgette Heyer and some Christian historicals and A Clockwork Prince and I am sure I will be fine.

So, I've watched some films. The other day I was looking through the TMN on Demand catalogue and stumbled upon Aidan Quinn's name. I will pretty much watch anything with Aidan Quinn because I love his voice and his eyes and this one was SET in the HEBRIDES on an ISLAND so, obviously, his nice voice with an accent. ( REMEMBER WHEN HE WAS ON WHITE COLLAR???) Also, while every girl is in love with Johnny Depp in Benny and Joon, I only have eyes for Aidan. True story.

proof: from episode Copycat Caffrey

Aidan also made a fabulous Miles Hendon in the Hallmark Prince and the Pauper and he is the first actor I used as a template (thanks to Kaye Dacus who uses templates for her characters) when I penned a manuscript for a Christian romance this year.

So, I watched A Shine of Rainbows which is based on the book by Lillian Beckwith (first chapter here) about a shy young boy named Tomas who is adopted from the city orphanage by a colourful woman named Mairi and her gruff husband, Alec (the novel cites his name is Sandy). Corrie Island, off the coast of Ireland is an enchanted setting: gorgeously coastal and reminiscent of the Eastern Coast of Canada I so love. The cove is filled with magical seals and the odd, potent statues at one end of the island are famous for their magical wish-granting lore.

(disclaimer: I am going to Ireland and Scotland next Summer--- Ireland for my brother's wedding and Scotland because I am tacking it on! I am delighted at this point with anything that will whet my imagination before that trip)

Mairi ( played by Connie Neilsen) is a colourful woman in emotional and literal ways and splashes through the film like a rainbow. Tomas, debilitatingly shy due to the bullying of the orphanage kids and his nervousness of his new surrounding takes awhile to warm to her; but when they finally reach an understanding and Mairi establishes herself as a kindred spirit, their bond is unbreakable.

Tomas loves his new home as Mairi weaves him tales of magical creatures and adages which allow seals to carry messages to those departed and rainbows to leak streams of sparkle to usher those seeking a place inside their colourful light. Mairi will tuck a smile within a bright red handkerchief before she goes away and promotes an understanding with animals and humans alike. Tomas has adventures and makes new friends and overcomes the stammer that so silenced his young voice.

Tomas also befriends a young and abandoned seal named Smudge whom he feels an immediate connection with. While Smudge's family has left him for the coast, Smudge remains in the cove: sure to starve without Tomas' intervention. Smudge and Tomas are parallels: Alec has not embraced Tomas in the same way as his wife because he is certain that Tomas is not strong enough to endure the gritty and harsh realization of their island surrounding. Likewise, Mairi informs us that the seals have left Smudge on this own to test his own ability for survival.

When unexpected (seriously. I didn't see this coming and it was a kid's movie) tragedy strikes, Tomas and Alec are forced into new understanding, love prevails and a touch of imagination colours even the bleakest of circumstance.

This is the most heart-warming thing in the world. It's just ridiculously, saccharinely heart-warming. Tomas, be-dimpled and wide-eyed will steal your heart with his sensitive nature and his pre-natural kinship with his new world. Aidan Quinn is heartbreaking as the gruff Alec and Connie Nielsen is delightful as she paints the world with her spunky wonderment.

It's basically the film equivalent of this adorable bear video that I cannot stop watching:

I needed this amount of sentimentality and I was glad that I so easily found it.

Movie Review: Tenth Avenue Angel (1948) dir., Roy Rowland

2011-12-20T08:29:00.000-08:00

Last night on TCM on Demand I watched Tenth Avenue Angel to get into the holiday spirit. I had been watching hallmark and Lifetime Christmas films on the W network: but I couldn't take any more bad acting or horrific production values. I had never seen it before and Margaret O'Brien is the cutest thing in the world, so I thought I would watch it.

I read somewhere that it was MGM's answer to the popular A Tree Grows In Brooklyn: the adaptation of that story which speaks to child disillusionment and the pain of growing up in depression-era Brooklyn. Here, the tenements and the block community of those down-on-their-luck is the setting of altruistic Flavia's (Margaret O'Brien) childhood. She's a favourite among the locals as she swings through the neighbourhood on one roller skate (she would love to own a pair) stopping to chat to her friend, Mac, the blind newspaperman and running errands for her mom and mostly-absentee father (a musician always trying to find work and who misses all of the important drama of the story).

Her mother and their neighbour Susan are massive influences on Flavia's life. Her mother has a way of slightly twisting the truth and inserting a white lie to protect Flavia from the grittiness of their circumstance. Flavia, wide-eyed and imaginative, takes everything her mother says literally. She has always been told that the truth is the most important thing and, thus, her mother just couldn't fabricate a falsehood.

One of these lies regards Steve, a charming man Flavia yearns to see married to her Aunt Susan. Flavia has been told that he has been gone for 18 months traveling around the world. When she rushes to the train to greet him home, she has no inclination that his gang-activity has landed him in Sing Sing and that he needs to be resourceful enough with his next moves in order to turn his life around for good.

The friendship between Flavia and Steve was what made this film worth watching. Flavia just worships him and he treats her, not in a humorous, deprecating way, but as a child worth listening to: an equal. He wants to be the one to ensure she gets the skates she always wanted for Christmas and he is always willing to listen to her: even when things seem to be tipping against him.

Midway through the film, Flavia learns that her mother's proverbs, adages and imaginative re-tellings of circumstances are not true. This forces Flavia to confront the fact that she has been colouring the world with a rosed-tint it doesn't possess. The disillusionment and bleakness that follow are rather depressing to behold in one so young. Flavia had always had such hope and imaginative belief and this is stripped, unintentionally, from her. The part of her mind that loves geographical and historical facts prepossesses any of the inclinations she had to daydream. In essence, she is growing up; but at painful cost.

A tragedy forces her to rely on a sign her mother once told her: about a cow kneeling on Christmas Eve to bring the Holy Child near to human circumstance. In this moment , the line between child-like faith in the supernatural and mere superstition is happily blurred in a touching Christmas miracle. It changes Flavia's life as well as that of her family and it ensures that Steve turns away from one last con.

I quite enjoyed this story. It was remarkably cheesy and Margaret O'Brien is the type of doe-eyed actress who might grate on some adult's nerves; but I think she's precious. I love her speaking voice and the earnest way she approaches every situation. Plus, she was Beth in my favourite Little Women.

George Murphy is also adorable (see: For Me and My Gal)

Merry Christmas one and all!

TCM is showing this film twice in the next while.

Theatre Review: Parfumerie

2011-12-19T18:46:00.000-08:00

I am fortunate enough to have very artistic friends who are employed by very artistic endeavour. My friend Mike works at Soulpepper Theatre here in Toronto and, as such, I often have the privilege of attending their opening night events (a lot of the time because he's married to Kat, one of my bestest friends). There, I see, well, possibly every Canadian ever and witness some spectacular Torontonian theatre.

Parfumerie was no exception. Based on the play by Miklos Laszlo, Parfumerie is set entirely at a cosmetics store in Budapest in the weeks leading up to Christmas. There is a familial attachment between all of the workers at the store: borne of their long-standing familiarity with each other and the long hours they spend in the retail atmosphere. As family, their patriarch is the good-hearted Mr. Hammerschmidt: the owner of the store and the parfumerie's namesake. At the beginning of the play, he is showing signs of wear and stress: culminating in his untimely dismissal of the bright George Asztalos: a clerk Hammerschmidt admits he had once viewed as a son.

While the workers assemble to decorate for Christmas and George prepares to leave a job he has held in senior position for 9 years, we are introduced to the problematic relationship between George and the beautiful; but seemingly prickly Rosanna (Rosie) Balaz. George and Rosanna are sworn enemies. They do not see eye-to-eye on even the most minute detail and they fling insults at each other in rapid, machine-gun fashion. Neither realizes that they have been writing anonymous and passionate love-letters (recalling the intensity of Eloise and Abelard, to note George's repetition of this famous story: in his letters and in conversation) to each other for the past year. Two people who cannot abide each other's company; are dead certain that they are made for each other on paper.

The action that follows includes the revealing of Hammerschmidt's strained relationship with his wife, his reconciliation with George following a severe misunderstanding, and the effort that George and Rosanna make to better understand each other at work as Christmas approaches.

If this epistolary romantic comedy seems familiar: it is. Parfumerie has been made into three film adaptations: the closest being The Shop Around the Corner (1940) featuring Margaret Sullavan and Jimmy Stewart as Rosie and George, respectively. A musical version of the story was filmed in 1949 entitled In the Good Old Summertime. Here, Judy Garland and Van Johnston star as rivals at a musical instrument shop who clash in person; but mesh on paper. More recently, the story was re-imagined with a Pride and Prejudice undercurrent in You've Got Mail: updating the premise from the years of letter writing to the new wave of email communication. In the film, Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan play a bookstore tycoon and a children's bookstore owner (of a store called Shop Around the Corner) at constant battle emblemizing the chafing relationship of box bookstore and small "brick and mortar" retailer.

Parfumerie was delightful to watch: an absolute Christmas confection. As a whole, the Young Centre is an intimate setting: whittled away in Toronto's breathtaking Distillery District which, at this time of year, is home to our European Christmas market. The spirit of the season is first acknowledged by the sights and sounds and smells of the market and then purveyed on stage through the imagined sights and sounds of a busy and bustling retailer. The set was gorgeous: playing on chocolate browns and mellow pinks to recall a type of candy-coloured world of rose-petals and beautifully ornamented scents and soaps. The highlight was the revolving door featured at the front of the shop. It, and the two large windows of the set, provided windows to well-staged lighting and action: as cyclists and passers-by rustled by and the dim light reflected both snow, sleet and the tinted hues of evening.

On the inside, the store provided the perfect scene for the warm and compelling action unravelled. While all of the characters were perfectly drawn and wonderfully dressed in period costume (the shoes were to die for), it was the romance between Rosie and George that kept my eyes pealed to the stage.
Stage veteran Oliver Dennis: a sprightly red-head with the same lackadaisical charm of Jimmy Stewart and the breathtakingly pretty Patricia Fagan (whose clipped and period-perfect bob framed her pixie face and bright eyes) had wonderful chemistry. They came alive when opposite each other and I thoroughly bought into their developing relationship, their softening to each other in person as they reflected on their passionate and abiding devotion on paper.

I am lucky to live in a city with a thriving artistic community and a sprawling theatrical community, at that. To excavate a long-lost play and resurrect it every other year during the holidays ( in intervals between A Christmas Carol) provides audiences with a chance at seeing a sentimental (yet not saccharine) romantic comedy with all of its gusto and charm. To add to the sights and imagined smells of the Hungarian Parfumerie, we were treated to nationally-appropriate music: a violin and an accordion which ushered the set and lighting changes and subtly changed the scenes.

This was probably my favourite Soulpepper Production to date and I highly encourage Torontonians to seek it out. I absolutely LOVED it! Parfumerie was a critical success in its first run in 2009 and it continues to wow the critics. Read the Globe and Mail review!

Toronto's gorgeous annual European Christmas market in the heart of the historical Distillery district

A Study in Sherlock: A Game of Shadows

2011-12-18T17:27:00.000-08:00

I saw Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows today with two very good friends. I was highly anticipating this film as, despite the franchise's inauthenticity, I quite enjoyed the first instalment: mostly Guy Ritchie's gritty depiction of an always-under-construction- London in all of its tinker-toy, industrialized sepia light and for the chemistry between Robert Downey Jr.'s Holmes and Jude Law's exceptional Watson.

Jude Law's Watson was introduced to me after a long Sherlock draught and before I saw the (definitive?) modern adaptations starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. I am a big Watson fan and I always hated his portrayal in the Rathbone films and, well, any subsequent film which featured him as a pudgily rotund foil and not the man-of-action and intellect he is. Law's Watson was a breath of fresh air. He was resourceful, quick-witted, smart and ready to spring to action... much like the Watson of the books. He was the perfect antidote to Holmes' manic excitement and depraved actions. Thus, I was excited to see Law revisit the character alongside the perfectly cast Kelly Reilly as the beautiful Mary Morstan.

Also, I felt that while the original strayed from the conceptualization so many of us have in our purist imaginings of the Canon, it did incorporate small, slight instances to peak a Sherlockian's interest. Here, this homage was more realized. The film's core is bookended by Watson's episodes at his trusty type-writer tapping the story of The Final Problem. While this "final problem" strays significantly from the short story, the main player, Moriarty is drawn in cold, calculating light by the gravely eerie Jared Harris: perfectly cast in the role. While the BBC Sherlock painted Moriarty in a manic, psychopathic way: this Moriarty is very much the intellectual match of Holmes: their wits at battle perfectly culminating in a tense chess game high atop the Swiss Alps with the ripples of crashing fall cascading from the ridge to the vapid cavern below. Think Reichenbach? Think right. The story also plays with A Scandal in Bohemia: well, at least nods to it as a principle crime takes us to the opera, to the Continent and to an intricate web that could unravel the whole of Europe, see the ultimate downfall of a Crown Prince and climax in a World War. This is 1891 London; but Moriarty hints that Europe is on the hedge of great disaster --- and much like Sherlock ruminates on the changing climate and tides in His Last Bow, so the audience is given a tell-tale maze that will force us to consider the approaching Great War, the burgeoning practice of machinery in combat and how Sherlock and Watson might play into this changing tide.

As with the first instalment, the film is at its weakest when it attempts to incorporate female characters into the plot. With the notable exception of Mary Morstan (who is credible and has every canonical right to be in the script ), Irene Adler is still problematic (largely due to the liberties they take in her sexual relationship with Holmes) and a new companion piece, a gypsy named Sim, is proof of screenwriters grasping at ways to bring females into the masculine world of Holmes. They needn't have bothered. Females have loved Sherlock for years and I, for one, am contented without the unnecessary female inclusion.

While Jude Law looks surprisingly like the Paget illustrations of Watson and keeps mostly to character, Robert Downey Jr.'s Holmes remains problematic. He fails to achieve the meticulous hygiene and detached calculation and assumptive distance of Sherlock Holmes while playing into humorous elements. Holmes is not without humour; his sense of irony and sarcasm is very acute; but Downey Jr. errs in mistaking this humour with his need to cut through the more automaton-tendencies of the great detective, slice pre-possession and attempt to endear the audience. Again, this is a mistake. Readers love Sherlock Holmes. 21st Century viewers love Cumberbatch's realistic portrayal and seem to find that Watson steps in as everyman mediator allowing a more purist portrayal of the detective to be easily accessible, fascinating and mind-bending. Downey Jr. is best when in the wily game of wits at the end.

Ritchie could have played more at outlining for the viewer what Sherlock was seeing: what his eyes were drawn to and what scrapes and screeches his attuned ears gleaned from a melange of noise. This particular manic deductive-skill was presented more than once in the first film; but not as much here.

As in the first, however, and the main reason I forgive Downey Jr. is his inescapable chemistry with Jude Law's Watson. Their love and camaraderie cannot be forged. It prevails here again in all of its frustration, bickering and succinct synchronicity. There are some wonderful moments attesting to the unbreakable and almost impenetrable bond between the two and that makes me shrug Downey Jr.'s other liberties of character off. Further, Ritchie makes very sure to present enough to whet a purist's appetite while re-imagining the iconic characters in an almost alternate-universe. If you keep this in mind and you allow yourself to relax and acknowledge that Downey Jr. is quite the opposite of the painted Sherlock Holmes, the Holmes of Doyle's imagination and Brett and Cumberbatch's excellent portrayals, then you will have a lot more fun.

This world is peppered with Steampunk, of automobiles driven by be-goggled drivers, of machines and harsh noises and gritty discordant music slackening popping streetlights and glistening cobblestones.

Familiar faces like Lestrade ( a brief; but important cameo) and Mycroft Holmes (cast physically perfect in Stephen Fry) and Mrs. Hudson, not to mention the little dog Gladstone, return to delight.

The setting is a character, the dialogue can be clever and pay secret homage and even a name-drop or two (Col. Sebastian Moran, for one) can keep a Sherlockian carefully watching despite the errors and inaccuracies.

I realize that this is not everyone's cup of tea and there are several Sherlockians who cannot bring themselves to partake in these adaptations. I do understand where they're coming from. I guess I have been successful in watching and enjoying them because I take them with a grain of salt. On the one hand, they are introducing an entirely new generation to Sherlock and they are weighted enough in the source material to add surprising credibility. If not credibility to text, then definitely credibility to implication and spirit. As mentioned, the chemistry and friendship between Watson and Holmes is played with unabashed affection. It is rather touching. Their glances and quick quips are so matured! For authenticity and to delight my purist's heart I must, ironically, seek out the Steven Moffatt adaptations with the near-perfect Benedict Cumberbatch: the actor who, next to Jeremy Brett, does best at recreating mentally the Holmes of my childhood. Watson is played well here and is near spot-on physically; so I have little-to-know complaints in the Jude Law department. Moriarty is a nice nod to his literary counterpart. It's not perfect and there will be several, several friends of mine who will not budge on it; but I liked it. It's cracking good fun and I wouldn't mind seeing it again.

Remember when I was at the Reichenbach Falls? They do that part very well indeed.

INSPY winners 2011

2011-12-12T18:56:00.000-08:00

I am delighted that the 2011 INSPY Winners have been announced on the INSPYs website

I was excited to judge again this year in the Romance category: where the judges and I underwent some strong discussion before reaching the final selection, Yesterday's Tomorrow by Catherine West: a gritty and moving portrait of the Vietnam War. The Vietnam War is a very new subject to Christian romance and West, a first time author, deserves credit and recognition for her moving romance, her realistic research and her innovation in a time and setting not pursued in this genre.

I hope you check out West's book as well as the other books on the shortlist. I would like to highlight A Heart Most Worthy (review here) and The Preacher's Bride (review to follow)

CD Review: Bring Me Giants

2011-12-07T20:01:00.000-08:00

I have never done a CD review before; probably because I rarely buy CDs anymore: just a lot of online radio and a lot of sporadic iTunes purchases and sometimes a cast recording if I really am interested in the show.

Notice how the best shows are literary adaptations? James Barbour is the musical equivalent to Colin Firth or Matthew MacFadyen or Daniel Day Lewis: any strong actor with compelling presence who does period well on-screen. Barbour, however, has performed some of the world's greatest literary heroes on stage and with his tantalizingly rich, get-a-high-buzz-lindor-chocolate-tasting voice.

I first heard of Barbour when he was playing Beast on Broadway in Beauty and the Beast; but I didn't REALLY know him until he showed up as Rochester in Jane Eyre. I never saw the Broadway production and, let's face it, the lyrics to that musical were horrible; but his voice transfixed me.

In New York a few years back, I had the greatly wondrous pleasure of attending Tale of Two Cities in previews starring Barbour as Sidney Carton. His performance was mind-boggling. The musical does a lot wrong and hits many an odd chord; but one thing it did perfectly (largely thanks to Barbour's tour-de-force performance ) was Sidney. It got Sidney right --- and that's a mighty fine thing to have in your court.

[this video is just a slideshow of ToTC pics; but worth it alone for the audio if you have never heard Barbour before and the orchestration is MUCH better on CD]

It was partly Barbour's physicality ( not unlike Colm Wilkinson's: though Wilkinson is short, he is quite broad-shouldered and his stance on stage casts the illusion that he is larger than life) and his captivating presence that left me slack-jawed and near falling off my red velvet seat every time he finished a song. The show didn't find an audience and didn't last long; however, Barbour deserved a Tony nomination for his performance-- one he never got.

His voice is pretty mesmerizing and I can say easily that, with the exception of Colm Wilkinson, he has the best male Broadway voice I have heard live (Brian Stokes Mitchell is waaay up there). It's a powerful instrument and I am dazzled that he keeps loaning it to some of the greatest literary heroes of our time. Soon, Rebecca DuMaurier's Rebecca will see the stage and Barbour will be Max DeWinter(as one example of his range).

The first non-cast recording CD I obtained of Barbour's was exceptional; but only when it showcased Barbour in full-on ballad form. It was a live CD and featured numerous interruptions that kept me from sliding into the sheer hypnosis of hearing him fluidly craft and caress the lyrics to each song with that incessant musicality he has. Fortunately, in Bring Me Giants ( the eponymous taken from the concept recording of the musical Cyrano), he showcases his malleability at performing some of literature's most fabulous leading men.

He does a magnificently powerful Bring Him Home from 'Les Miserables' which showcases a range and resonance not all performers with his natural register would be able to do with such ease. It makes me think that the new 'Les Miserables' movie should have sought him out for Valjean and not, as is, tried to stuff Hugh Jackman in as the star-card. Barbour has a much more proficient stature, stamina and look of Valjean. Moreover, he can sing the part of Valjean in the way that gives pause when considering the more Vaudevillean Jackman.

Barbour, left, toasts Charles Darnay in A Tale of Two Cities.( Don't think I didn't buy a t-shirt after the performance, 'cause I did ( I just don't wear it in public)

His This is the Moment from 'Jekyll and Hyde' is an exercise in restraint and slow-building exhileration. This song has been recorded countless times by everyone from Rob Evans (in full rock-opera form) to Colm Wilkinson (on the little-known concept album I own) and is always a show-stopper. Here, Barbour plants a unique thumbprint on what is probably now reduced to a figure skating track (I don't watch figure skating; it just seems like people would skate to this). He slowly and electrically infuses each well-known lyric with the kind of magnetic pulse you want from the soon-to-be-murderous Jekyll: tantalizing you with soft and slow and controlled voice until he reaches the perfect, multi-triplet-ed climax and key change at the end. [Note: This is Frank Wildhorn. You cannot have a Frank Wildhorn number without triplets, power-bridges and key changes. It is a must. ]

Barbour as Sidney Carton (sense a photographic theme here?)

Speaking of Wildhorn, we also have the darkly sensual I'll Be There, from the concept album of Count of Monte Cristo. It's a moving and passionate duet by Mercedes and Edmond. Here, Mercedes is sung by Morgan James. [Note: Frank Wildhorn prefers women who sing like his first wive and muse, Linda Eder. James definitely has a feel of Eder about her. Gal has pipes]. Sometimes Wildhorn errs in his pairings with lyricists; but the poetic imagery in this number is melancholy and stirring enough when heard in the context of the Monte Cristo story.

He throws on Music of the Night from 'Phantom of the Opera' to show off his range again. I really didn't need another version of this; but he certainly surpasses poor awkward Michael Crawford, even he cannot beat Colm Wilkinson.

Don Quixote is obviously another literary powerhouse so, of course, Barbour proves he can eat The Impossible Dream for Breakfast. In the aura of Classically Classic a la Classic, he also throws on his own If Ever I Would Leave You which leaves you ridiculously happy that you have cleaned your brain of the Robert Goulet version. Go 'Camelot'!

Stolen Lucy Manette kiss: theme, theme, theme of this post photographically!

Apparently there is a concept cast album for Dracula: a musical I will hopefully never have to see live; however, Loving You Keeps Me Alive (yes. the song is called that. muah-ha!) sits well in Barbour's voice (then again, the PHONE BOOK would sit well in Barbour's voice and I would GLADLY buy the "James Barbour Sings the Toronto Phone Book" CD. Done.)

Finally, the last number is the one that kept running through my head as I stared at the ceiling in New York at 3 a.m. euphorically after seeing him live as Sidney Carton. I Can't Recall is a power ballad, if ever there was one and Barbour just is Sidney. I listened to it on my ipod today, like, 80 times. You should listen to it on your ipod, too! .... GO BUY THIS CD

Anyways, if a novel is over one hundred years old and over 600 pages, Barbour will somehow perform its relatable, melancholy, heroic, complex, Romantic in the Romantically Romantic sense lead hero... and he will perform it with gusto, dammit.

Aside: my last interaction with Cyrano de Bergerac is when Colm Feore broke my heart performing in his perfect bilingual French and English at the Stratford Festival a few years back--- I could totally see Cyrano as a musical. Barbour, you should be in it all over.

LOOK! LOOK! Look at how AWESOME my boots are.

James Barbour has a blog. ... and a website

Another "Leah McLaren is STILL pretentious" moment

2011-12-06T21:12:00.000-08:00

...from Canada's worst columnist and most pretentious writer ( of bloated chicklit which borders on the "literary": quotation marks needed)

Here, McLaren name drops like crazy; but just proves she never really understood Dickens:

[ for the uninitiated: she writes a weekly column in the Globe and Mail ---never with any theme. It's really ALL in the details: about how she refuses to read Award-winning Canadian novels and how she goes out of her way to drop a run-in in London or a trip to the fridge to extract her soy milk... she's just pretentious ... and useless. BAH HUMBUG)

Movie Review: "the Muppets"

2011-12-03T17:15:00.000-08:00

When I was in grade two my teacher, Mrs. Hallman, taught us all of the lyrics to "The Rainbow Connection." We sang a lot in that class. I remember arriving early at the school one morning and singing it to myself as I swung high, high on a swing that was located just parallel this amazing old, sprawling tree. It seemed fitting to be singing about something that reaches for the sky, while just seeing the toe of your pink keds magically (optical-illusion here )brush the tips of the tree...
Now, it's my karaoke song. On the rare occasion I am caught at karaoke, I always sing the song: usually half-joshing, often having had a few beers--- but everybody loves it.... it emblemizes the world of MUPPETS!

As a kid I loved all of the Muppet movies, the Muppet Family Christmas ( which we near wore out on taped vhs before it was finally released on dvd) and the Muppet Babies television show.
It was the 1980s and there were happy meal toys and stuffed Christmas-themed muppets everywhere. We had Muppet puppets, too!, in our toy chest, Animal, Kermit and Miss Piggy.

I always sort of loved Rolf and was fascinated (in my childhood oversight) when I first noted that the Swedish Chef had human hands as he meandered about the kitchen speaking in the worst Swedish ever.

Then, there's The Muppet Christmas Carol: which this Dickensian cites as her all-time favourite version of the popular story and which I watch EVERY SINGLE CHRISTMAS EVER.

So, I was delighted when I learned that a new Muppet movie was being made. More delighted still upon learning that Jason Segel was making and writing it because he shared a similar passion and wanted to introduce this ingenious, pure and marvellous world to a new generation of children. Citing in interviews (read here, for example) that part of the Muppet charm is that not only do they suspend belief with real-live actors; but they also never use humour at the expense of others in their harmless, un-cynical jokes, I related to his zesty passion for their warm-hearted world.

You don't think of Kermit as a puppet once he has been on screen for a few moments: he's a frog. It's not unusual that he and Miss Piggy have one of the most complicated sub-species romances to ever hit the screen. It's just epic and it's natural and when they have kids (in the Christmas Carol ) and half are frogs and half are pigs; well, that's just the way it goes.

The movie I saw today re-visits this wonder and EVERYONE in the theatre alongside my friend Stephan and I was laughing and grinning and giggling NON-STOP. Most delightedly, there was the chimed laughter of children who were being introduced to this wonderful, magical, humorous world for the very first time.

There are wonderful song and dance numbers, fabulous cameos (my favourites included Ken Jeong and Jim Parsons) and Muppets. Lots and lots of Muppets. All of your favourite Muppets....with special celebrity host, Jack Black.

Jason Segel, Amy Adams and Jack Black, along with a devious Chris Cooper and several other human actors in the show seem to be as genuinely elated with the experience as the audience is.

Segel has this broad, goofy grin stretched on his elastic face throughout the whole of the movie: bespeaking his childhood passion.

What he has written and has helped create is 2 hours of wonderment: never mean, always musical and sweet.

There are singing chickens, there's a Telethon, there are moments where you will be so delighted you won't be sure whether you should laugh or cry or do both at the same time. Your cheeks will hurt afterward from incessant grinning. When Kermit sits on stage and sings " The Rainbow Connection", later joined by his entire Muppet family, you will taste a bit of your childhood again.

This is the second FANTASTIC film I have seen this week... and I thought good movies were few and far between this year. I guess they're all just coming out at Christmas.

how's THIS for Friday Frivolity?

2011-12-02T11:48:00.000-08:00

First off, my darling friend Martha posted this website on facebook. It randomly generates Mennonite names.

If you're writing a Mennonite novel, your characters can easily be christened ;)

If you ARE Mennonite, then shout your name proudly! I keep hitting 'refresh' because I know her very Mennonite sounding surname will turn up eventually....

In the spirit of JINGLE, my favourite Canadian vocalist, the ultra-impressive-Canuck-answer-to-Adele, Serena Ryder has a bouncy and fun Christmas song for you to enjoy.

Got halls? Deck 'em.

Tomorrow, I doth Muppet it. Will keep you posted.

How Gus and Shawn saved Christmas (so far): This Post includes an odd 'To Kill a Mockingbird" reference.

2011-12-01T19:55:00.000-08:00

Jem and Scout hate their nearby neighbour, Mrs. Dubose, in To Kill A Mockingbird. She's crotchety and rocks on her porch flinging mean-spirited insults to the children. It takes their father, Atticus, and his southern gentlemanly ways to restrain their contempt. At one particularly sensitive moment in the novel, Jem has it at her award-winning hydrangeas. As punishment, he is forced to return to her house every day after school and read to her as she sits in bed, white-haired and scowling as a mysterious time piece ticks every painful moment he and his sister impatiently sit near.

It is soon revealed that Mrs. Dubose is dying and in a lot of pain. Proud, she is, though, and through her pain she struggles to remove herself of her morphine addiction before her final breath. Every time Jem reads to her, she focuses on the clock and not on his voice, slowly weaning herself off of her doses of medication. Every second combatted is a small obstacle overcome.

I cannot say that I have the same experience with excruciating pain (thank heavens); but slowly, the zombie medication that had provided a tricky yet safe cloud of numbness and blurred security has been pulled from me. My "bridging" medications: those with the highest doses and numbing-action--the ones that allow me to nap and stop the tremor and the stutter and the panic were only meant to see me through the most intense ramifications of my heightened anxiety and bridge me, as it were, to a more stable medication that I will continue to use and become accustomed to. A medication that will stable my moods and anxiety in the long-term and become a regular part of my make-up.

The transition has been stupid and hard and weird and emotional. I can no longer rely on the heavy doses that I initially felt. The drowsiness and comfort of having a little bottle that you could count on should you need an extra dose or to see you through long nights. So much of the treatment for anxiety and depression relies on you working hard: personally, mentally, physically. It is the marriage of cognitive therapy and medication which will have the most positive effects in the long-term. Unfortunately, the cognitive therapy is the hardest. The self-talk and homework and exposures which, beyond medication, help you plant your feet on solid and untrembling ground are the ideal solutions....

But the changing and lessening of medication, to me, has been keenly felt.

I remember the first time I took one of the bridging meds. I slept through the night. Peacefully. Not waking once. It was magic. I couldn't believe that the person who had woken up every-hour-on-the-hour in the throes of irrational fears and mental trajectories winding down a dark path (made darker by the hour) could actually rest peacefully. I was used to waking and silently, catatonically watching (watching is a strong word for staring while your mind races afraid of everything from tornadoes to homework you may not have submitted in high school ) late night movies before I would thankfully wake up.

Medication was a sure-fire remedy.

Now, I am heaps better than when I started this journey two months ago and I trust my doctor and my path so deeply that I am slowly starting the rocky road to settling into my reformed self.

Unfortunately, with the Christmas crying ( see previous post this week) and the adjustment in medication, my sleep-patterns have been off. Not to mention ( as also referenced) I returned to my hometown which is steeped full of nostalgia and heart-breakingly wonderful moments and memories that flood on overload. The past two weeks have been difficult and I feel them most acutely when alone. Not to mention, waking up again automatically makes me sad: I think back to worse times. Of course, the racing thoughts no longer steer to irrational fears and yet to Christmas and family and work ---- and how I am away from all of those things: mentally and physically. Disembodied, as it were.

Luckily, I have had a reprieve. On my parent's couch last weekend, laptop on coffee table, earphones in,tea-in-hand, and through those awful wakeful moments, I have watched a heap-load of Psych. Often, I'll watch the same episode more than once if my mind is not completely with the plot. And it makes me giggle. Really giggle. Jubilantly giggle. Because it is ridiculous. But, on another note, it is slowly re-instilling my creative recesses of energy and thought and imaginative-illumination. For the past few months concentrating on anything of artistic depth was difficult. I mentioned a fair number of sitcoms I watched. Reading has been especially hard ----partly because reading makes me want to write and edit and work on my own projects---something in (not-so-distant) periphery. But Psych bounces vocabulary and alliteration and slight character deepening and twists in a fun and colourful way.... in a safe and pronounced way that doesn't require my full mental faculties: yet exercises and awakens some kernel of my literately fun self.

[Shawn and Gus really DO save Christmas]

In a way, and as cheesy as this sounds, Gus and Shawn have taken the place of medication. I rely on them as stimulant. I know that I can re-visit them and count on a daily dosage. I know that I can repeat-as-needed and maybe even take less in a day than needed if I am having a particularly strong day. If I need to let me mind drift and just spend 43 minutes watching for the appearance of a pineapple (as hyper-intensively ridiculous as this sounds), it is enough to keep me going. I have no previous connection with them and they don't remind me of anything. There is no link in the show that will start a stream of consciousness to the past. It is a strange and magnetic world that, blessedly, doesn't remind me of ...anything. I am not lost in the past and the maze of unknitted thought when visiting. Foreign to most; but very important to me. Disassociation.

Part of my homework is to be as open as possible and to expose as much as I possibly can in hopes of explaining some odd behaviours; but also, possibly, silently throwing a rope. I don't enjoy talking in long epistles about how television (for a bookworm! SHOCKS! EGADS! ) has proven helpful; but it can be wonderful escapism and temporary medication.

Bridges are strange and scary--- medicinally and otherwise--- for those (like me) terrified of heights, they pose a strange and sudden sensation of impending doom --- or they can be calm and beautiful as you lean over them and stare into the water below--- or they can be long and seemingly endless (I'm thinking of you, Confederation Bridge to PEI) where just a small strip of land becomes larger and larger as you make out its red rim while driving from New Brunswick...

Sometimes bridges undergo construction.

Sometimes they act as a metaphor as you band one part of your life to another. I am bridge in this imagery and, luckily, things step in to help shove me over...

So, Shawn and Gus save Christmas. I look forward to their Christmas episodes, I look forward to dissecting what nonsense and rhetorical goodness will seep from its insanity and pin-prick the goofy and vulnerable and giggly side of me that was temporarily on mute.

Jude Law--- the Sidney Paget Moments

2011-12-01T16:12:00.000-08:00

Jude Law: loaning authenticity to the rather inauthentic Downey Jr's Holmes since 2009.

I've said it before, dude looks like the Watson I knew growing up: because he resembles the Paget illustration.

I am an AWESOME Watson and will keep you fair viewers going until the BBC Sherlock resumes next year!

Random Sherlock moment!

Triggers that You Don't Think Are Triggers...

2011-11-30T19:40:00.000-08:00

...Christmas is proving very problematic in my anxiety-induced world. It is not unusual to find me downtown Toronto holding onto the side of a building, shaking and crying, because the decorations and the music have hit me in a nostalgic place that I cannot crawl out of ...

A popular term in the treatment that I am undergoing and that will be familiar with many of you who have undergone cognitive therapy treatment for either anxiety or depression is "trigger": like your index finger itching on a gun---the seemingly pointless, harmless, ridiculous can explode ...

Today:

a message from a co-worker
the sound of Hark!, the Herald Angels Sing wafting from the ornately decorated window frames of Holt's at Bloor and Yonge
the guy flirting with me as I upgraded to a blackberry (the blackberry has been fun)
finding that dial 'm' for murder was TCM's feature this evening ----notably Grace Kelly's red dress....

All of these things trigger a reaction and all at once I am jittery or nostalgic or numb or catatonic and I fade into myself like the world is buzzing into framed blur

Clarity is as fleeting as a sip of tea or the whirr of a new message on my new phone...

....then I retreat.

Christmas is a beautiful, magical, wonderful, amazing time of kaleidoscope wonderment: but it is a trickster, too. It is a veritable bottomless tickle trunk of loss, of preservation, of winking lights that spotlight melancholy.

It does a lot to those prey to instances of emotion and panic.

The crowds were enough before to start my shudders of hand tremor; to glare my eyes and wobble my voice...

Christmas brings them in droves.

I want to visit my book people. My book friends. A gent on the subway today was reading Martha Grimes and a part of my heart cried to curl back into a well-remembered book. But, it just starts the tear ducts flowing. Three times this evening I have made my way to the well-visited shelf wherein perches my collection of Horatio Lyle: but he evades me, too.

I guess one of the hardest things is recognizing that all seemingly familiar is now strange and uneven.

Last week's trip home, usually a time of solace and exploration of my favourite local, small-town haunts in the place I grew up in, had me fleeing to find a new place, to remain completely invincible.

Here, in Toronto, I revel in anonymity while recognizing myself a stranger.

Reinvention was never easy for anything or anyone.

So my Cylon selves are out in the world: sometimes bearing traces of what I was before; sometimes signalling that which is to come; sometimes staring weirdly at an angle in the mirror and studying without profundity.

It's all a profuse trigger, an explosion of colour that renders itself, somehow and most ironically, in splashes of grey---not even the concrete safety of black and white.

Film Review: 'Hugo' dir., Martin Scorsese

2011-11-29T14:38:00.000-08:00

The movies that most resonate with me are the ones where I leave having felt an experience akin to watching a magnificent piece of theatre or closing the last page of a magnificent book.
Martin Scorsese's Hugo is a wonderment and it will tug at your heartstrings: especially if, like me, you are extremely sensitive to anything relating to imaginative experience and artistic sensibility.

Around four years ago, I was delighted to purchase and leaf through the film's source material: "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" by Brian Selznick and was immediately impressed with its innovative story/picture hybrid, its inclusion of photography and its structure as a love letter to films of old. The film also marries a passion for literary narrative with a golden nod to the formation of film. But, on a stronger, deeper and more heart-wringing level, it speaks to the heart of creative beguile. Not unlike Polanski's The Pianist, it explores the loss and re-discovery of the artist in a world new and unknown.

One of the most potent aspects of this remarkable film lay in its multi-faceted enigma: which winds and turns all of our seemingly disconnected characters like the intertwining togs and mechanisms of the clocks of the Parisienne Train Station: the workings and cogs and sprints and springs which make the pulsating maze of our hero, Hugo Cabret's, world.

Indeed, clocks, time and the passing of hundreds of passengers clacking over the well-trod floor of the Station are a major motif and clever canvas. Here is where most of the action takes place. Orphaned since the death of his father: a clockmaker/inventor/ machine enthusiast, Hugo usurps the task of winding and charging the clocks at the crowded train station from the trembling hands of his intoxicated uncle.

Several characters including an uptight security guard, a flower girl, a coffee mistress woo'd by a man disdained by her wiener dog and a surly toy and candy salesman paint the kiosks and act as the stars in Hugo's complicated world. Yet, the heart of the story lies beyond the adventures of Hugo and his new friend Isabelle: even if the mechanized world of nooks and towers would be more than enough to fulfill the children's imaginative whims.

This film is a love story to cinema, to history, to stories and to the working mind of the artist. The exposition of a consummate artist starved of the mind he cannot turn off is the main triumph and tragedy of this heart-warming tale. Old books, broad libraries, odd automatons and the preservation of film, not to mention instances invaded by the First World War,add complex layers to a film definitely not made just for the entertainment of children. I began crying mid-way through when the right book found its purpose and made it to the right owner and my 3D glasses remained fogged for the remainder of the film.

In my opinion, this is the type of magic the Academy should recognize. It is quite clear that director Scorsese ripped out a piece of his heart and threw it up on the screen for all to see. To mention the mere craft of this story would take a real film-maker. Thus, I speak to its narrative force, its wildly imaginative imagery and the thematic interposition which will render those who feel the blessed (cursed?) ripples of imagination often ringing through their ears and surging through their veins.

I would encourage you to see this film immediately. I usually avoid 3D films; but this film is carefully constructed to make the most of dimensional marvel. Children will learn a lot about the history and incarnation of film while learning new vocabulary (the bookwormish Isabelle is adorably precocious when it comes to throwing around the names Sidney Carton and Jean Valjean. Moreover, words like "panache" and "steadfast" creep into the children's vocabulary).

The relatively unknown film-maker George Melies plays a major part in the film and you will enjoy learning about his contribution to the technical developments of film. He is often credited as one of the first cinemagicians.

Snippets of old film are inserted and I was delighted, as one example, to see a famous train scene featuring a squirming Buster Keaton. This film will act as a wonderful introduction to the black and white films which so long ago ushered in the magic that children now take for granted each time they see a new 3D film or play a new video game.

Also be sure to check out the novel by Brian Selznick: which marries imagery and narrative to beguile young adult readers.

....just when you think you know what this film is about, it will whirr and whistle and steer you in another steam-powered moment of trickery. Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jude Law, Christopher Lee and Richard Griffiths ( not to mention a beautiful Emily Mortimer) help round out the cast.

This is the best movie I have seen this year.

Paris is not my city (Vienna is, as we all know); but it is painted in glorious light and if you have a hankering for 1930s France you will be in heaven!

For my friends: Jude Law's character and presence made me think of Melrose Plant, Horatio Lyle and Dr. Watson all at once. Not bad.

The Christmas Shoppe by Melody Carlson

2011-11-29T07:40:00.000-08:00

Melody Carlson is one of Christian fiction's most prolific writers. She also seems to be one of Christian fiction's most prominent Christmas writers. For example, her novella Christmas at Harrington's was a heart-warming and best-selling novella about the true spirit of Christmas.

In the same tradition, The Christmas Shoppe is a novella set in a small town wherein slight travails leading up to the Christmas holiday inspire the residents to realize that humanity is always at the heart of Christmas.

Parrish Springs is a traditional town with a colourful Main Street and a City Council believably bickering about the budget for Christmas decorations and whether or not Christmas is too strong a religious word and if Holiday or Winter might not be more appropriate substitutes. In the middle of this normal small-town Christmas activity Matilda Honeycutt materializes. Stringy-haired and jubilant, she seems to have wandered out of a hippy commune and the mystery shop she plans to open on the main stretch not only beguiles and befuddles the residents; but causes a great sense of alarm. Change is a scary, scary and skeptical thing for a town where season in and season out have always seen the same types of celebration.

With a touch of romance and a hint of magic, Matilda will teach Parrish Springs a lesson about giving, about mystery and about excavating through the tinselled mounds of the Holiday to find heart and spirit and the delights of the past therein.

Another reviewer mentioned that she felt that the story was not explored in depth and I am inclined to agree. There are some fabulous outlines for characters who are not quite filled in. However, I believe this to be a result of the constrictions of writing a novella. With that in mind, think of this book rather like one of those heart-warming Hallmark Christmas films they show at this time of the year. It is just the type of quick, medicinal Christmas story to accompany a fire and a cup of cocoa.

You can buy The Christmas Shoppe at amazon.com
Make sure to visit Melody Carlson's website to learn about her prolific backlist.

My thanks to Revell for the review copy!

Embers of Love by Tracie Peterson

2011-11-28T13:25:00.000-08:00

I know! Regular readers of this blog are thinking: "You're reviewing a Tracie Peterson book?" And you're right... it is odd. Especially because I think Tracie Peterson has written some of the worst fiction in the past few decades ( not just the worst Christian fiction: just the worst fiction. Period.)

Peterson is reigning queen of bad plots, melodrama and dime-novel twists that make me roll my eyes so often while reading that my lids hurt for days after. Nonetheless, I picked up Embers of Love while at a Christian bookstore the other day because it was on a bargain table. Also, because I have had trouble reading recently (see previous posts for explanation) and I knew Peterson would not require any mental energy whatsoever.

This book was exactly the light step I was looking for as I train my brain back into reading fiction of the calibre I usually enjoy. This is lightest of light reading here, folks, and you don't have to turn your brain on completely to follow the story of Deborah Vandermark, her best friend Lizzie and the Texas logging town which becomes the two educated women's lively home and the background for their developing romances.

Deborah plays soft matchmaker to her brother G.W. by hopefully pairing him with city-girl Lizzie, late of an engagement to the pretentious Stuart Albright and daughter to a pre-occupied suffragette. Deborah, in turn, does not play the docile female and her quick wit and rapid responses often raise eyebrows from her kith and kin. Fortunately, the new doctor, Christopher Clayton, appreciates Deborah's mind and her willingness to learn about science and medicine.

Fans of Christy will recognize the ensuing battle between long-harboured superstitious medicinal beliefs and the efforts of a doctor determined to bring sanitation and hygiene and stop senseless, albeit ignorant deaths in childbirth and from the logging fields.

There are some ultra-romance-cheesy moments in this book and with the exception of Deborah none of the characters are particularly well-developed; but it is the first in a series and I have a feeling, as per other Peterson novels, that she will flesh out peripheral characters in the next instalment and paint another romance or two along the way.

Not mind-bogglingly good; but certainly a far cry from the Alaskan Gold Rush novels (there are several in different series) that had put Peterson in my bad books for so many years.

A nice, light escape that I was able to get through effortlessly and with some surprisingly well-knit narrative moments I had thought foreign to this author. Kudos for some well-placed research regarding medicine and for the insertion of some moments of Biblical fortitude worthy of a heroine named Deborah. For those of you who have read a Tracie Peterson novel or two you can expect some really horrible and forced dialogue, as per usual, often beginning with several characters conversing with "Well...."

Egads. Learn from your mistakes, Peterson. You've been at this for years.

Theatre Review: Mary Poppins

2011-11-22T21:06:00.000-08:00

Tonight I had the privilege of seeing Mary Poppins at the Princess of Wales here in Toronto.

Before I go further, may I just blatantly pronounce that I adore that we are getting Les Miz back in 2012? I have seen it 8 times in Toronto (four of those times WITH Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean), once on Broadway and once in London's West End. Apparently, this new production has re-imagined staging. Bring it home to Toronto, people, we LOVE this show.

But, I digress.

Mary Poppins is produced by Cameron Mackintosh with a new Book by Julian Fellowes. While it maintains many of the standards penned by the Sherman Brothers (composers-in-residence for many of the best-loved Disney films of the 1950s and 1960s ---- they wrote It's a Small World, y'all), there are new numbers added to the show at an unfortunate disconnect. Any musical number not penned by the Brothers Sherman, and added to the re-vamped stage production, though perfunctorily performed by tonight's awe-inspiring cast, seemed jolted and intrusive.

While this adaptation's story varies from the 1964 Julie Andrews movie and borrows heftily from the P.L. Travers' source material, the jumbling of the musical numbers in different chronology than the film and the insertion of some of the anecdotal instances indigenous to the book make for an odd theatrical experience.

That being said, this production has some of the greatest moments of staging I have ever seen in my 20+ years as an avid theatre goer. This production's choreography of "Step in Time" was nothing short of slack-jawed brilliance. At one point, amidst a bevy of chimney sweeps scaling and tapping the staged London rooftops, our Bert escalates aside the stage and upside down: with the careful engineering of the suspensions fans of Wicked are now used to as a mainstay in modern musical theatre. It was one of many enchanting moments. The choreography in SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS (sorry, it must be capitalized) was equally remarkable.

The story plays out much as it does in the film: with the motifs of childhood imagination, lessons being learned with a "Spoonful of Sugar" and a hint of charity for man and child and with adults realizing that flying a kite with their family trumps any invasive moments of financial precision at one's obsessive job. Much like Peter Pan's Mr. Darling, so investor Mr. Banks must slowly learn that his family and his childhood are worth re-possessing and the sense of awe and wonderment found in gingerbread stars is as close a link to his growing son as it is to his own careful upbringing.

As in the film we are so familiar with, the hand-shake of a chimney sweep is good luck, the tattered wares of a woman on the steps of St. Paul's heed all to sacrifice tuppence in motions of charity, and made-up words and colourful antics are the stuff that teach children exactly what they need to move from precocious to darling...

The cast was fabulous having just toured the US from Broadway and I was happy to see some familiar Canadian faces grace the stage. As one example, Laird Mackintosh played Mr. Banks: anyone who saw The Phantom of the Opera here in T.O. during the 90s as many times as I did ( also with Colm Wilkinson. Torontonians, we are LUCKY that he calls Toronto home!!!!), would recognize him as a popular Raoul. Rachel Wallace sang with the clear Julie Andrews' crystal soprano befitting the nanny "practically perfect in every way" and it was a delight to see the hints of romantic chemistry flowering between Mary and Nicolas Dromard's adorable Bert. [check out the full touring cast here]. Dromard is from Ottawa! So glad he's a national treasure!

Bert was a wonderful narrator/jack-of-all-trades much like he is in the film (as we excuse poor Dick Van Dyke's mournful Cockney accent). This Bert was pitch-perfect and both he and Mary seemed to be having genuine fun with the material they presented in high-pitched, gleeful intensity. If they needed to kick their knees up to "step in time" with the band of guardian angel chimney sweeps, they did so with jubilant conviction.

Two minor points: the first time I had heard and internalized the meaning of the word "Suffragette" was due to Glynis John's recognizably husky number in the film version. I wished that Mrs. Banks' character on stage were given the same political convictions to levy her stance as female equal to her workaholic husband. Instead, we are given glimpses into a theatrical history which she trades happily to be full-time nanny to her children when all is happily resolved. Secondly, I thought that the production threw away, as it were, the number Feed the Birds. Specifically requested at Walt Disney's funeral (being his favourite number) and providing a symbol of charity and good-will, the ethereal chords of this hymn-like number were heard clearly (with strong organ, thank goodness) during its performance; but I wish they had returned to its theme as they did other songs.

[Though Mary Poppins is set in the Edwardian era, I must say that this hardcore Horatio Lyle fan kept thinking of Lyle: partly through Bert's accent, perhaps with the backdrop of St. Paul's.... he is never far from imaginatively away.]

A final moment for the set: like a story book illustration: the set is sketched and blasted with broad strokes of colour and charcoal, not unlike Bert's drawings in the park. The house on Cherry Tree Lane unfolds quite wonderfully like a doll's house, with Mary Poppins able to snap the gas lamps on and off at her every whim.

There are hints of magic everywhere in this production and the children in the audience, of a generation who probably wouldn't be able to sit through the 1960s movie, were dazzled. As was I.

the hardest part of being me...

2011-11-21T20:01:00.000-08:00

my memory.

it's a blessing and a curse

i remember everything in precise detail

smells, colour, sounds

a chord of music will transplant me

a word transpose me

a moment will render completely coloured deja vu

it makes me a perfect patient as i step the slow steps to my doctor's office and slink into his chair

it makes me a perfect patient as he slowly pulls every last inkling of imaginative, kaleidoscope thought from the recesses of my vortex-mind

he excavates and, like an archaeologist, knows just where to scrape the scantily wisped dirt to find the golden treasure beneath

i wish i could turn my brain off without medicinal help

i wish that the memories wouldn't flood altogether in a jumble of colour, scent and smell and sound

i wish that an opening chord wouldn't haunt up a pile of unwanted fragments

that my eyes would keep from watering

that my darkly lit apartment, with its sole-burning candle flame wouldn't strip back to a decade ago

i wish that i could put it all on hold with some slightest trick of mind ---instead of medicinal numbness

instead, thoughts crowd and flash and bend and round and erect themselves until my hand shakes and my cheeks burn....

all at once they scrape across my mind's eye and feel like the streetlamp does when its shadow first mellowly hits the slackened, spanse of rain-soaked pavement

i don't want illumination

i want to turn it off

instead, in repeat-mode, it finds its way....

'Great Expectations' Photos make THIS gal VERY happy!

2011-11-21T18:38:00.000-08:00

Thanks to our friend Gina at Dickensblog, I have been kept in the near loop of all things Great Expectations and I remain super duper excited about the new adaptations in our near midst!

Check out these photos! :

[Source]
Also, make sure to check out Dickensblog to learn everything you would ever want to know (and that still wouldn't be enough) about Charles Dickens, film adaptations and where all things Dickensian can be found on the web!

If "Community" saved October on the laugh-front; then "Psych" is winning November hands down

2011-11-20T16:58:00.000-08:00

This post has no literary merit:

I have been watching a ton of Psych and it is ridiculous and funny and they don't know what to do with their secondary characters; but that's okay because of the three leads: adorable Shawn Spencer (be ye warned, he takes a few episodes to be able to tolerate and then you will fall madly in love), his adorable best friend, Gus, and his father, strict retired cop, Henry.

Zeee pineapples .....

Props to Carlton Lassiter who is the only believable secondary character and the only one who actually seems to have some purpose, in all of his tight skepticism through the first two seasons. I think this show takes a bit to find its stride; but its inaugural season has some incredible moments!

Canadians--- I got the first, second and fourth season for 12.50 each at Future Shop at Yonge/Dundas Square-- so you can find it there---- cheap used copies are available at amazon.ca and you can download it on itunes Canada, too!

A clip? Mais oui!

Anyways, it makes me literally giggle ( I mean George Takei has a wonderful cameo, there is random singing and dancing and some of the obscure movie references are to die for).

This from the same station that brings us the quirk that is Monk , Burn Notice and, my favourite, White Collar. Quirk, quirk, quirk....

mmmm..... pineapple.....

Also, you will crave pineapple ---- all the time. You will buy some and eat it. Because pineapples are a silly and gloriously unexpected motif.

Oh ... and even though it is "set" in Santa Barbara, Canadians will recognize B.C. as its REAL location very quickly.....

Anxiety and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in the Media

2011-11-18T20:20:00.000-08:00

As someone diagnosed as OCD with elements of Anxiety and Panic disorder, I find it helpful when I can identify with characters in the media who exemplify some of the same symptoms.

Two shows do very well in exposing these diseases in a sensitive, provocative and well-researched manner: doing well to raise awareness about mental illness in our society.

Currently, the CBC is using actor Matt Watts' personal Social Anxiety Disorders and the tenets and phobias therein as the weekly premises for the show Michael: Tuesdays and Thursdays. This show, created by Bob Martin ( Canadian Comedian and writer/star of Broadway's The Drowsy Chaperone) does well in introducing cognitive behavioural therapy when wed with medicinal therapy to help Michael with his anxieties and phobias.

Michael has tendencies of agoraphobia and his weekly "homework" can see him doing everything from attending a crowded movie theatre, to returning to spaces housing painful memories, having candid conversations and even asking a stranger for the time.

What impresses me about this show is not the continuing plot points; yet the exposition of the ongoing (15 years) relationship between a psychiatrist and his patient: proving that anxiety disorders can be treated; but not completely cured. Having Matt Watts' express his vulnerability and struggles and having the credits mention that the show utilizes Watts' personal phobias and anxieties makes a great step toward awareness of mental illness in a funny, sombre and often touching way.

I don't recommend the show for the other aspects of each story arch (I find the writing to be oddly-paced); but I do find this aspect of the show extremely well-written.

Matt Watts speaks to his Anxiety Disorder here and to an open panic attack here.

As someone who suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder ( though diagnosed as having an Obsessive Compulsive Social Disorder and not the severity of compulsion and repetition as physically expressed here), I have always had a soft spot for Adrian Monk: the detective whose OCD makes it difficult for him to perform even the slightest tasks: despite the brilliance of his brain and his impenetrable dedication to solving his wife's murder. (Note: if you watch Monk, which I did religiously during its long run---even going so far as to own my favourite seasons on DVD for revisitation, your heart will be broken. Tony Shalhoub deserved the many awards and accolades he won for his mind-boggling portrayal of Adrian Monk).

Monk does well at presenting OCD in a humorous way; but with a lot of heart. Monk's phobias are ever present; but he is a character whom the entire police force respects. His disorder, his disease, never get in the way of his mental capabilities.

Actor Tony Shalhoub has said he suffers from elements of OCD and comprehends its debilitating nature and how it can cause embarrassment and distress for patients suffering from it. He speaks to the importance of his character and the show's pre-occupation with raising awareness here and here.

I find that both of these television shows do well at presenting mental illness in a real and very exposed way; while still maintaining a lot of heart. As such, they raise awareness. You'll notice that both clips feature the patient in cognitive talk therapy: emphasizing the importance of this relationship while exposing the vulnerable and seemingly irrational fears and phobias of the patients.

1 in 10 Canadians suffers from an Anxiety Disorder; yet the stigma behind mental disorders remains prevalent, pervasive and acute. As a society, we need to openly discuss these diseases as they are---diseases--- while their treatment can sometimes require elements which evade other diseases, i.e., a hybrid of cognitive talk therapy AND medication; rather than just medication and while these diseases are not so much curable as treatable, they are still valid and, more likely than not, you or someone you know suffers from a facet of anxiety, depression or compulsion.

I have an anxiety disorder--- how the heck will i deck those friggin' halls.....

2011-11-17T20:09:00.000-08:00

The other day I was in a good mood. It's the point of November where a chill nips the air, the sun sets earlier settling on the lights of Toronto's mellow skyline and Christmas music floats from the retail outlets.

I had hiked up to Yonge and Eglinton to visit the David's Tea shop there and while there, I ducked inside Future Shop for new earbuds.

Upon hearing It Came Upon The Midnight Clear on the speakers in the store, I immediately broke down. Crying and hyperventilating, I had to take refuge by finding something to grab hold to.

If you read my Advent Tour post from last year, you know that Christmas music is a major part of my life; it speeds through my veins, is much a part of my fibre.... as is all of hymnody and church and sacred music history.

I have never been able to get through Silent Night with a dry eye ( and have had to leave church before because of the overwhelming emotions it elicits); but It Came Upon The Midnight Clear?

In an attempt to dissect my panic attacks and public and private breakdowns after-the-fact, and to have something to report to my psychiatrist in our ongoing discussions and treatment, I will wait until the episode has passed, collect myself ( often ashamedly: in this case having assured two kind shoppers that I was alright--- just emotional over the Holidays--- you can get away with being vague at Christmas: it is such a cornucopia of conflicting nostalgia) and sit for a moment to connect my mental dots.

Christmas music will always hit me and speak to me as most religious music does--- it is partly because I have an ingrained passion (which I mentioned) and partly because no matter how betrayed or disillusioned I am with the more flawed aspects of the religion I grew up with and practice, it remains a pure intercession which metes out grace, poetry and a sense of history that melds hundreds of years of followers together.... it binds.

But, what I am realizing, and what I attribute to the Disease is its waterfall effect. I have a bit of a freaky memory which remains a blessing and a curse. I remember, in detail, vivid and resonating smells, sounds, conversations and moments like photographic snapshots on constant slideshow in my brain.

As I try hard to piece together the fragments of myself now jumbled, muted, spread out like shattered shards of pictures unmoving and forcedly symbolic, I am overwhelmed by memory.

Music has always linked my brain to the past and to specific moments. I have experienced 30 Christmases (well, lets say 25 or 26 lucidly) and with the strains of a familiar song, all of the memories, at once, good and bad: those which formed my psyche, those which perturbed or suggested unending loss all crowded with the chords of a song and the pressure, the weight on my shoulders was intrusive.

It's more than a moment where you softly recall the low-tinted and framed moments of happy memories of a childhood past. In the moment in Future Shop, holding on to a rack of video games, hundreds of pictures crammed my brain while the part of myself who cannot fathom what Christmas will look like now that I have been changed (am changing) and the part of myself that cannot reconcile public events--- even to the point of having panic just thinking of standing in the doorjamb of a church at my favourite time of year: where snow falls softly and the organic chords of my favourite carols waft from within, it left me bereft and broken.

While I slowly become more lucid, while the days of effort seem to, in ways, pay off in leaps and bounds and honesty drips from my tongue and my keyboard, I begin to recognize the price paid, the veneer that left me in ignorant bliss, the band-aid ripped off which forces me, productively yet cruelly, to confront that that always bathed in glorious light has somehow become exposed.... that holidays once jolly and merry and full of warmth are now being seen with a sense of perturbedly quaked and shaken awe---- What will Christmas look like? What can it look like? If it is mid-november and I am avoiding retail outlets after my Future Shop outburst, how will I make it through the next month and a half?

Must the entire world be privy to what I am privately experiencing? No wonder so many sufferers of panic disorder become, as I recoil to admit I suffer from, agoraphobia.

But, I keep forcing myself out, stripping everything bare and trying to turn the scrutiny of the world off...

Because I never could get through Silent Night without crying---- I can bank on my emotions to overflow attuned to melodies that string me in a consciously spiritual, nostalgic, insensitively invasive way....

Sometimes people will see it and wonder..... but I'll breathe deeply, stutter, shake my hand at lightning speed and keep walking.... because Christmas has always been my favourite thing and Christmas music my favourite sector of the Holiday.

So I will be bloody damned if it will tackle and break me in the end.

There will be moments. I will be vulnerable and exposed---- but I will keep walking through it and I will keep assuming that the Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men vibes that sprinkle my city's streets and force wide-eyed gazers to stop outside the candy-coloured toy trains in the Bay windows at Queen will reconcile my somewhat odd public spectacles with a click of a tongue and perhaps a remembrance of a loss that they experienced.... something that snaps at them during the holidays....

Except mine is not a loss, per se, it is a re-opening, a re-programming, a reformation....

My religion underwent it several times ( In fact, the King James Version of the Bible just celebrated its 400th Anniversary, as a semi-related factoid) and so shall I....

If you want something ethereal, listen to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing one of the most hallowed and harrowing pieces of music ever composed.... this take very much captures the rare simplicity of one of the most everlasting Christmas Carols

shameless post about something that makes me insanely happy....

2011-11-17T16:18:00.000-08:00

When I am blue, I pull out my dvds of White Collar. Then I am not blue anymore.

Best bromance since House and Wilson, y'all.

Wait? you haven't seen White Collar? well, you should.....

This post has no literary merit.

Love on the Line by Deeanne Gist

2011-11-16T08:18:00.000-08:00

Deeanne Gist has established herself as one of the most popular writers of Christian historical romance today. For the most part, I find a healthy dose of charm and whimsy in each of her books and enjoy the fact that escapism meets some verisimilitude and a great sense of historical research. A Bride in the Bargain, The Measure of a Lady, Courting Trouble and Deep in the Heart of Trouble are all worthy offerings. In fact, Deep in the Heart of Trouble and Courting Trouble feature a refreshingly flawed heroine who prefers pantaloons and bike riding to crocheting in fancy feminine wares.

For the most part, the heroine of Love on the Line maintains the same sass and spice of Gist's previous heroines. Readers of Kathleen Y'Barbo's books (see The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper) will adore the case of hidden identity and the background sweep of drama and trouble bordering the main conflict between hero and heroine. I was also put in mind of A Proper Pursuit by my personal favourite, Lynn Austin.

The action begins on a train where Georgie Gail excitedly witnesses a train robbery by the dashing conman Frank Comer: more a Robin Hood, in legend, than an actual criminal. If only the pesky Ranger Lucious Landrum didn't get in the way and try to stop the conniving con--Georgie would have a lot of imagining to take back to her job as a switchboard operator. When Lucious Landrum is handed an alias, Luke Palmer, and force to go undercover working as a telephone repairman, he and Georgie butt heads more than once. Georgie may not recall him from the adventure on the train; but she certainly doesn't need a man's interference in a job she does competently well.

In a tale where people are not as they seem and dime novel danger flits each page like the wings of the birds that Georgie loves to watch and call, love is pitted against crime and a test of wills resounds on each competently penned page.

I have followed Gist since her beginning (see A Bride Most Begrudging ) and she has grown in leaps and bounds as a historical author. I very much appreciate how talented she is at creating a believable atmosphere. Her romances are not deep and the stories are very easily meted out, as are their predictable endings; but like the best tales, it is the journey and not the destination which makes the narrative worth following.

I especially appreciated all of the research that backed her fictional criminal and hero, Frank Comer and Lucious Landrum respectively. Gist's slight touches (such as Georgie's love of birds, the conversations on the party lines that ripple through the small telephone-operated town and her job on the switchboard itself) were very competently rendered.

It's almost the Christmas season and if you are looking for a gift for a lady in your life who enjoys Christian historical romance, than Gist's latest is definitely worth looking into. In fact, might I suggest, presenting it alongside A Proper Pursuit and The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper?: all feature a motif of mistaken identity and disguise and with a red ribbon around all three, you will make a voracious reader very happy!

Deeanne Gist is quite active on facebook---so check out her page
My thanks to Bethany House for the review copy.

coping mechanisms: of zombie walks, of riverdale (high and farm) and davids tea (sans apostrophe)

2011-11-12T19:59:00.000-08:00

Last entry, I spoke quite bluntly about my current medical leave from work due to my severe anxiety disorder.

While cynics might look at this as a "paid vacation": it has proven a much-needed time for me to re-program myself, let the medical professionals work with tempering to find the right medication, for parts of my brain to "shut off" as they rest and re-cover from over work, and for me to undertake the experimental and cognitive behavioural therapy that my psychiatrist specializes in. There are two parts of this: talk therapy and behavioural therapy.

This usually manifests itself in homework assignments wherein I take what I have learned ( or in some cases re-learned) and, in an attempt to "try out" my more authentic self or to allow me to rise above my agoraphobia, fear of panic and crowds and medical-induced haziness in small steps as a climb back into re-integration at work and "normal"--- hate that word---try, "traditional" life.

There are two Rachels: Old Rachel --- the Rachel I was before I started treatment, acknowledged the disease as something legitimate, stripped back the layers and began talking about it. New Rachel: the Rachel I am striving to be: the one who will take all of the lessons ( easy and hard and re-jigged) that I have learned and work towards a happy balance that will show the Rachel hidden beneath the layers of the functioning robot I feel that I had become.

Whereas Old Rachel found it easy to go to the movies with a crowd---New Rachel is petrified. So, movie theatres become a piece of small homework, as one example.

Whereas Old Rachel easily fell into conversations borne of "small talk"---New Rachel is terrified of speaking even to sales people in a shopping centre--- another piece of small homework.

Homework can include everything from written assignments to pushing me out of my comfort zone: from staying home and watching television for a day( something I would have been appalled at before I learned that my brain really needed a rest) to addressing an age-old secret harboured deep within, to stretching myself out of the almost-coma-state I feel as a result of the medication I am on to the "zombie walks" which see me roaming my city for about 2 or 3 hours a day.

Things I took for granted before (like being able to sit through Thanksgiving dinner; sitting through Don Giovanni at the Elgin; attending a friend's wedding--- like easily being able to accomplish more than one thing a day--- I mean, seriously, one trip to the gym is now all I can handle in 24 hours ---- a trip to the Royal Agricultural Fair resulted in 16 hours of catch-up sleep) are becoming the small steps I climb.

I wanted to touch on a few things that I have found extremely helpful as I slowly climb to recovery and to the happier, more authentic version that will see "New Rachel" ready to handle the world and all of its crazy obstacles.

First off, as mentioned last time, books are (for the most part) out for the moment. I find it extremely difficult to read right now. I am slowly reading the book tour books I am required to (especially for my Bethany House and Revell friends and for the INSPYs); but day-to-day reading remains Archie and Jughead--- hence the Riverdale reference in my title.

At Riverdale Farm!

Getting out of the house has been difficult most days; but I refuse to stay inside ---so from day one of my treatment and recovery --- I have force myself out. For someone with OCD who lived for routine and control: going from a full, extremely hectic and stressful schedule: meted out to a "T" to, well, small homework steps has been extremely difficult. I have had parts of my brain temporarily "shut off", so to speak. Nonetheless, I keep to a bit of a different schedule: I go to Riverdale Farm in Cabbagetown every Tuesday ( if I miss Tuesday due to a hospital appointment or a trip home to my parents up north; then I substitute another day). On Wednesday afternoons I go to the ROM ---from 3:30 to 5:30 (FREE admission there, people ---check it out on their website). Nothing really registers: if anything I wander aimlessly, usually breaking down incomprehensibly in the Egyptian area; but I go.

I have watched a lot of television; but cannot handle my usual favourite type of TV: that of Turner Classic Movies, PBS, British Mysteries and Miniseries, etc., ---anything over a half an hour can seem a bit too challenging. Often, my Television Watching finds me catatonically staring at the television; not resonating the voices; but hazily screening the colours through a kaleidoscope with noise---not unlike clothes spinning in the dryer in their muddled rainbow.

Laughter had seemed a long way off ( and was: I could count on my right hand the times I had authentically laughed in a month; not the type of laughter borne of expectation or small talk, mind you) until I discovered Community. This show ( I credit its 2 + seasons for a LOT of my small sprinklings of happiness over the past month and a half) makes me laugh. Out loud. It continues to do so.

Currently, I am working through Parks and Recreation: on recommendation of a friend who said that it is basically our home town ( which it is )

Ironically, the new CBC sitcom (created by Bob Martin and Don McKellar---see Drowsy Chaperone) called Michael:Tuesdays and Thursdays--- while the show has a long way to go in its background stories and peripheral characters--- it hits very close to home when it features the Cognitive Behavioural therapy of the psychiatrist featured in the show and his patient who suffers from Social Anxiety Disorder. In fact, the homework feature as well as the talk therapy seem so authentic to me and, in an odd way, mirror aspects of my own journey. Canadians can watch full episodes on CBC online. It's also filmed entirely in Ottawa---one of my favourite Canadian cities.

I also wanted to take a moment for DavidsTea
(even though they have left the possessive apostrophe out of their handle. blerg). The first time I heard of this was through my sister --- who became obsessed during her phd research. My first trip to Davids Tea was in Quebec City this past Victoria Day weekend. There are several locations in Toronto. My sister, in a care package when I first left on disability leave, presented me with an adorable stuffed Cookie Monster toy (which I cuddle all the time---- let's not hold anything back here, interwebs) and some DavidsTea---- as well as a pot which allows me to steep the looseleaf tea. Now, "homework" can stretch no further than my picking a location of DavidsTea in Toronto ( there are several ) walking there (I walk everywhere now--- need to stay in shape during my aversion to the gym--- tough, I used to be a 4-5 time a week gym-obsessed-goer and the weather HAS been amazing here) and tasting and buying some new tea.

Favourites include: Forever Nuts, Chocolate Chili Chai, Pumpkin Chai, Mulberry Magic.

Tea is fab. You should drink it. Especially if it is from Davids

I really wanted to get a review up here tonight (of A Necessary Deception;) but we're just not there QUITE yet--- hopefully in the next few days.

Thanks for listening, bloggosphere.

If you suffer from depression or anxiety, you will find that the internet is a very small world and doubtlessly you will be able to relate to someone out there. Today, I would like to point out a new blog which takes us on the brave journey of a 20-year-old's battle with depression. Check it out

In Which We Speak to the Disease

2011-11-06T09:10:00.000-08:00

Hello Bloggosphere,

I have been sporadic here of late; have completely drifted from finishing projects started (namely RIP Challenge, a Study in Sherlock, Great Adaptations) which I have every intention of someday finishing.

NO STARBIES in my STARBIES mug

My absence however, has been brought on by a certifiable illness: I have a severe anxiety disorder which includes a dash of Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder, Panic Induced Agoraphobia, Panic Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder and a wee bit of depression.

I am getting the help and treatment I need for this VALID illness and am on MEDICAL LEAVE from work (I have been off work since October 1st and will probably return in Feb: thank God for an amazing company which allows me to take disability/medical leave with full pay) ; but a lot of things in my life have changed ---including my presence on this blog.

I have a wonderful doctor and therapeutic appointments and homework which blends medicative therapy with experimental cognitive therapy; but it has also come at some costs.

1.) READING: The drugs make it VERY hard for me to read. In fact, where I used to read ALL THE TIME, I read at a much slower pace. This is a temporary thing; but frustrating. So frustrating that I was sick of having something I truly loved "stolen" from me ---so I bought a pile of Archie Comics, reverted to my 8 year old self and got to task.

With this slow and painful return to having my mental faculties (exhausted from meds and the small seemingly insignificant exercises which work toward allowing me to reintegrate myself back into society), I have been able to still fulfill some blog tour work and, what is proving a rewarding challenge, read through the INSPYs books I have been assigned as a Romance Judge. It just takes longer than previously and some days cannot happen at all.

2.) COFFEE: my favourite thing in the world other than books has been taken from me. No Starbucks. Decaf Only....so I have been drowning my sorrows in literal gallons of David's Tea ---God Bless their amazing selection

3.) A SOCIAL LIFE: My illness has become so advanced that I have had to (doctor ordered) miss my sister's phd convocation, a close friend's wedding weekend, birthday parties, housewarmings, Hallowe'en: all because seeing more than one or two people at a time is impossible right now. Church is out. Crowds are out.

4.) HAND TREMOR AND STUTTER: I started having a consistent hand tremor mid-September at work during our busiest and most stressful time of year. I would hide my hand in my pocket (wearing dress pants and skirts with pockets? I sometimes wore jackets so I wasn't hoisting out the less attractive wear in my closet) which advanced once I left work and was finally allowed to show my symptoms (meaning my brain was on autopilot: function,function,hide,function as I went through the motions). My anxiety has also led way to a temporary speech impediment: I stutter. This is not forever; but part of me thinks that the tremor and stutter are my brain's way of saying: we have kept you a Rachel-bot for so long; we need sometime to let our true colours show. Also, my way of sub-sub-consciously allowing the world to visibly know that I am sick: so that expectations are kept ( as they should be) at a minimum

ABOUT ALL I CAN READ RIGHT NOW: face it, sorta fun!

I know that Anxiety Disorders plague many people on the bloggosphere in many ways and one of the hardest things for me to come to terms with was allowing myself to recognize that it is an illness "worthy" of medical leave from work; or life.

We do not look at someone with diabetes, say, or cancer and say: you are taking time off of work for treatment, pshaw! But, there remains a stigma with mental illness that even I, a sufferer of, bought into.

It's time to stop that.

I am being completely honest about the illness because I know other people suffer from it in varying degrees.

I know I am not the only person with recurring panic attacks, who hyperventilates, who cannot handle the pressure of being in crowds.

Funny thing is, kids, that I was the most social person people had ever met. I have literally dozens of friends, was always the social leader, work in a very people-driven facet of the publishing world and can mingle as well as the rest of them.

When I was told that I was a Conditioned Extrovert, I was not surprised. My real self is most comfortable at a pub with a friend or two; or hiding away in my apartment with tea and candles and a book or two.....

My own stigma and my own rallying against my own disease was shameful. I didn't believe I was "worthy" of time off of work, I didn't believe that I had an illness with a severity that dictated all of the medication and treatment. My amazing doctor had to continually pull textbooks off of his shelf and point to how legitimate my illness is.

In fact, my accepting it as legitimate, makes his work legitimate. My treatment at a large research hospital in Toronto proves that Anxiety Disorders are so prevalent and so wracking and so real that they must be spoken to in an entire department in psychiatry: that research and articles must be given to a world who still cannot quite grasp what they cannot understand.

I thought that Scott Lynch, author of the Lies of Locke Lamora and the other Gentleman Bastards' sequence titles I adore to death, was strong and wonderful for opening up about his anxiety and how, as an author, it had kept him from attending events, from writing, from feeling like himself.

I thought I would share it here

A doctor once told me that the reason he almost went into psychiatry is because he feels, in ways, it is the worst of all diseases as it keeps the sufferer from feeling like themselves....

My lack of presence on this blog, the time it is taking me to post on novels that publishers have been kind enough to send to me, the fact that I have not yet tackled LYNN AUSTIN'S NEW BOOK: are all ramifications of a real, live disease.

I will be speaking to this blog hopefully more frequently in the coming weeks: and certainly as we inch closer to the INSPYs which, as mentioned, I am honoured to be judging.

But I also breathe a sigh of relief: because now all of YOU know what's going on and stigma is often hidden in shame and secrecy.

There is nothing to be ashamed of. I would never walk up to someone with pneumonia and say "did you have a nervous breakdown?"

The same should keep us from pre-judging those with disorders which start mentally and show physical symptoms.

The Measure of Katie Calloway by Serena Miller

2011-10-31T17:57:00.000-07:00

From the Publisher:
Her heart seeks sanctuary in the deep woods. But will trouble find her even here?

The Civil War has ended, but in Katie Calloway's Georgia home, conflict still rages. To protect herself and her young brother from her violent and unstable husband, she flees north, finding anonymity and sanctuary as the cook in a north woods lumber camp. The camp owner, Robert Foster, wonders if the lovely woman he's hired has the grit to survive the never-ending work and harsh conditions of a remote pine forest in winter. Katie wonders if she can keep her past a secret from a man she is slowly growing to love.

With grace and skill, Serena Miller brings to life a bygone era. From the ethereal, snowy forest and the rowdy shanty boys to the warm cookstove and mouth-watering apple pie, every detail is perfectly rendered, transporting you to a time of danger and romance.

The Measure of Katie Calloway is an excellent, well-researched, carefully-plotted read. I very much enjoyed this slice of slightly different Christian historical fare.

The beginning of the novel will remind readers of Victoriana of Anne Bronte's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall: a young woman runs, this time with her young brother, from the beatings of her abusive husband. Here, a Civil War vet named Harlan determined to ensure his wife's untimely demise. Unsure where to find work or sustenance, Katie providentially runs into Robert Foster, the foreman of a Michigan logging company where a good cook is immediately needed. Katie's tenacious spirit and talent in the kitchen find her a perfect match for the voracious loggers.

Surrounded by rough loggers in the shanties outback, Katie's already wavering trust of the male sex is tried and tested; but Robert Foster and some of the more noble loggers slowly turn her opinion.

Elements of trust are a major motif in the novel. As Katie learns to open her heart again; so Robert Foster slowly learns to let go of his past as a surgeon during the Civil War. The historical research is meted out perfectly. Moreover, the atmosphere of the crude mining environment is painted with historical integrity. I was wowed by Miller's grasp of the time and of the mining community. Each well-paced chapter, for example, is framed with a shanty song of the time adding to the historical relevance and flavour of the tale.

I was most impressed with the heart-stopping climaxes of the tale: one, surprisingly, and refreshingly, occurs little past the halfway mark when a forest fire threatens the livelihood of all of our well-painted characters. The treatment given to Katie's husband and his dogged pursuit to find her and give her her just desserts is also well-maintained in the background as the story plugs forward.

This is a strong offering for a Christian historical which paints a time and place I had not read of yet. The lingering effects of the Civil War still haunt the characters. There is a believability of time and place that is winsome in this genre. Elements of faith play as a stronghold; but never venture into preachy territory. All readers will enjoy this novel with a hefty spice of character and faith.

I applaud Miller for this great addition to Christian historical fiction and I strongly encourage you to seek it out. In a tale that could easily seep into melodrama, Miller's strong prose and solid plotting give great credibility to the novel.

Visit Serena Miller at her website to learn more about the author and her writing of this text.

My thanks to Revell for the review copy of this novel.

You can purchase The Measure of Katie Calloway on amazon.

TLC BLOG TOUR: Beyond All Measure by Dorothy Love

2011-10-27T17:26:00.000-07:00

Ada has loved deeply and lost dearly. But protecting her heart could mean missing the love of a lifetime.

Ada Wentworth may be young, but she's seen enough of life to know she can only rely on herself. Everyone including God it seems, has let her down. Having lost her family, her fiance, and her fortune, Ada journeys from Boston to Hickory Ridge, Tennessee, to take a position as a lady's companion. Though initially charmed by the pretty little Southern town tucked into the foothills of the great Smokies, Ada plans to stay only until she can earn enough to establish a millinery shop.
Her employer, Wyatt Caldwell, the local lumber mill owner, is easily the kindest, most attractive man Ada has met in Hickory Ridge. He believes Providence has brought her to town and into his life. But how, after so many betrayals, can she ever trust again? Besides, Wyatt has a dream of his own. A dream that will one day take him far from Hickory Ridge.

As the South struggles to heal in the aftermath of the Civil War, one woman must let go of her painful past in order to embrace God's plans for her. Can she trust Him, and Wyatt, with her future and her heart?

Ada has lost everything: her family, her livelihood, her dearest love and her future; but her will and spirit are the perfect match for the rough Hickory Ridge terrain and the rough-around-the-edges Wyatt Caldwell. This is one book in which the reader will fall for the hero long before they fall for the seemingly overtly-stubborn heroine. However, after learning more about the circumstances driving Ada to her new life, so she softens and glistens in the reader's eye. Matched with Love's strong prose and knack for this readership, the pair is a solid offering and a sure-fire hit with women who love a bit of Western texture in their hearty romance.

Readers of Karen Witemeyer and Tamera Alexander will love this debut offering from Dorothy Love. Reminding the reader of the steadfast heroine of A Tailor- Made Bride and her determination to succeed in a new life for herself with her penchant for sewing as her livelihood, so Ada is determined to use her new life as lady's companion to the prickly Lillian to start her millinery business.

I quite enjoy this new trend in Christian historical fiction wherein the heroines are driven not only by their desire to settle and find true love and family; but also by their need to prove themselves and utilize their skills to make positive changes in the communities now altered by their arrival. Unlike Lily Bart failing haplessly at all trades she tries in Wharton's House of Mirth, Ada is a strong-minded heroine and, despite her privileged upbringing, seems capable of handling herself quite readily in the midst of adversity.

Smart, winsome heroine, attention to historical detail and a very swoon-worthy hero, not to mention charming moments and stalwart prose, this is a fresh and unique tale to add to your Christian bookshelf.

One historical journey I appreciated was the influx of the original Ku Klux Klan: this clash of racism and prejudice, not often explored in Christian fiction of this historical ilk, was well-researched and added a layer of much-needed conflict, friction and suspense.

Thanks so much to TLC for allowing me to participate in this blog tour!

Check out the other stops on this tour:

Beyond All Measure by Dorothy Love

Monday, October 24th: Reviews from the Heart

Tuesday, October 25th: All Grown Up?

Wednesday, October 26th: I Am A Reader, Not A Writer author Q&A

Thursday, October 27th: A Fair Substitute for Heaven

Friday, October 28th: Life in Review

Read more about Dorothy Love on her website ( she even has a Q&A section of interest to readers).

I also mean to seek out her first Hickory Ridge novel, Beauty for Ashes

You can purchase Beyond All Measure on Amazon

Wings of a Dream by Anne Mateer / INSPYs

2011-10-19T05:02:00.000-07:00

Hello Bloggosphere!

My apologies for the silence on the blog. I have been very ill lately--- the ill that has me on medical leave from work and taking meds that make reading a bit of a chore for me. Thus, getting through Wings of a Dream took a little longer than I anticipated.

Rebekah Hendricks dreams of flying alongside her dashing aviator suitor, Arthur Samson, as the Great War looms in the background. Instead, her family sends her to Texas to care for her ailing Aunt Adabelle. Upon her arrival, and Adabelle's untimely death, Rebekah finds herself with unlikely charges: the children of a stalwart soldier fighting overseas.

Wings of a Dream offers a compelling snapshot of the homefront as the war looms away. The battlefield fought by Rebekah and her community is that of the Spanish flu epidemic. Rebekah, a young and idealistic dreamer is forced from the clouds and to the stark reality of the ground below. This experience, and her responsibility for these unrelated children will test her faith, her resolve, and ultimately her love for her great pilot.

I wanted to like this book more than I did. I found it very slow chugging: as if the wheels were caught somewhere here and there which kept it from moving at a pace that would keep the reader turning the pages. I also found some of the community characters very "stock" for Christian fiction: the harsh foreign doctor, the harbingers of illness, the kindly preacher and his almost too-good-to-be-true Samaritan wife. However, despite the book's shortcomings, it does well in presenting a time period not often portrayed in Christian fiction.

Yes, this is a Romance; but not in the way you expect. I must confess ( and this rarely happens for me when reading the rather delightfully predictable Christian fare of this ilk ) that I was surprised by Rebekah's eventual happy ending. She had to look beyond herself and her challenges and changes altered her ideals.

I look forward to more by this author as this was a strong first novel (Mateer's first with Bethany House); but not without its failings. The separation between Rebekah and Frank (for those who eventually read the book) reminded me greatly of a strand in Lynn Austin's While We're Far Apart-- I encourage other readers to weigh on this with me and see if they agree.

I encourage you to visit Anne Mateer's website. I learned a lot about her writing and editing process there. I was impressed, also, by her author's note and the amount of research that went into her glimpses of the Spanish Influenza. I cannot imagine what it was like to live in a time period where tragedy struck on the European front and greatly, still, at home.

My sincere thanks to Bethany House for the review copy

THE INSPYs

While we're at it, I am delighted to let you know that I will be judging the Romance category for the INSPYs this year. Last year, I had the succinct pleasure of helping select Siri Mitchell's She Walks in Beauty as the strongest offering in Historical fiction and this year I will be helping select the winner in the Romance category.

With a shortlist like this, I am sure looking forward to reading these books--- even re-visiting some---to help an esteemed group of judges choose the best entry!

The shortlist:

Romance

A Heart Most Worthy by Siri Mitchell, Bethany House, March, 2011

A Hope Undaunted by Julie Lessman, Revell, September, 2010

The Preacher’s Bride by Jody Hedlund, Bethany House, October, 2010

Within My Heart by Tamera Alexander, Bethany House, September, 2010

Yesterday’s Tomorrow by Catherine West, Oak Tara, March, 2011

[Full Shortlists here]

My guest spot on 31 Days of Hallowe'en: Dickens and Hallowe'en

2011-10-12T16:33:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate enough to feature in Read All Over Review's 31 Days of Hallowe'en and even more fortunate to speak on a favourite subject, DICKENS! I have reposted it here for you to see; but make sure you check out the website and follow all 31 gruesome, literary days!

31 Days of Halloween { guest post } Dickens and Hallowe’en:

Today we are joined by Rachel from A Fair Substitute For Heaven, who talks about one of my favorite subject: Charles Dickens!

During October many readers pine for the fiction that makes our skin creep and crawl, for things that go bump in the night, for the chilling ghost stories of The Headless Horseman or James’ The Turn of the Screw. In literary fiction, Charles Dickens, fed heaps of the grueling macabre into his fiction. This Hallowe’en, I want to walk you through a few chilling vignettes of Dickens at his most gruesome. We’ll meet ghosts, thieves, witness murders, learn of Dickens’ penchant for descriptions of the gallows and paint a clear, rain-soaked cobblestoned world of gaslight and fright.
Here are a few examples of the dreariest Dickensian tales, a snapshot of some of their most malevolent characters and hopefully enough tingly-feelings to beguile you to revisit their worlds once more:
OLIVER TWIST

Photo Caption: Fagin waits to be hanged
There is a portentous sense of the macabre hovering in many of Dickens’ grim Victorian worlds including the conniving Fagin, the bandleader of a pack of boy thieves and Bill Sykes, the murderous henchman who skulks the streets of London at night: pilfering here and there, his mangy dog in tow.
Nearer the beginning of Oliver Twist, the scene is an undertaker’s: Oliver leads funeral processions for children’s funerals in a tall, be-plumed black hat and his forced to sleep in the dank dusk with coffins awaiting their next corpse.
According to eyewitness accounts, during Dickens’ numerous reading tours of Europe and North America, audiences were moved to fainting when Dickens read of the brutal death of Nancy at the hands of her lover, Bill Sykes.
GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Photo Caption: Miss Havisham shows Pip the remnants of her abandoned wedding feast.
The macabre pervades Great Expectations from the opening scene: a gloomy graveyard where the young and impressionable Pip visits his deceased parents and long dead siblings. From out of the fog of the marshes he is pounced upon by a convict, a veritable bogeyman. The haunting of young Pip’s formative years continues with a house as gothically eerie as they come: Satis House wherein the phantom-like Miss Havisham strolls in yellowed white wedding dress, her untouched wedding feast rotting upon a long table: alive with maggots, beetles, mice and rats; the clocks all stopped timelessly, her long sinewy fingers folded as she plays maniacal matchmaker with Pip and her coldhearted ward Estella.
If that’s not enough, the villainous Orlick meanders in: an embittered blacksmith’s help who is as violent as his stalkerish behavior would allot.
OUR MUTUAL FRIEND

Photo Caption: the Thames
Villains are pronounced in Our Mutual Friend, this meandering and carousel-like novel featuring unidentified corpses, cases of mistaken identity, lies, betrayal and the theft of goods from bodies lost to the river, Not unlike the dastardly M. Thenardier scraping the corpses of the barricades after the July Revolution in Les Miserables, so Gaffer Hexam and Rogue Riderhood skulk the dirty river Thames by moonlight in hopes of finding a rare diamond in the rough. When Rogue Riderhood betrays his partner, Gaffer Hexam, it is for a murder: that of the unfortunate John Harmon. Other characters in this dim tale include the taxidermist, Mr. Venus, who is in love with bones and Bradley Headstone: whose name is just as pernicious as it sounds…. When we’re not wallowing in talk of the dust pile heaps that employee many helpless and hopeless of the downtrodden, we are riveted by the manic motives of the jealous Headstone who rages in violent episodes as he pines for the beautiful Lizzie Hexam.
Other Dickens novels feature moments that greatly fall into the category of plain creepy….
LITTLE DORRIT
Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher puts one immediately in mind of its predecessor, the fall of the House of Clennam in Little Dorrit : years of secrets, violence and shame crumble under the dusty weight of a structure ravaged to the ground.
A TALE OF TWO CITIES
The Vengeful Madame Defarge performing that most mundane of domestic tasks, knitting, at the foot of the guillotine: her lust for blood as quick and frenzied as her hands clacking her speedy needles.
A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Caption: Scrooge is led by the Ghost of the Future to his gravesite: abandoned and alone
The famous Haunting of Scrooge may be a few months too early for our purposes yet is one of the most famous Ghost stories: appropriating ethereal supernatural presence for both good and ill purposes. Near the end, the miser Scrooge comes face-to-face with his mortality and the vapid existence he led when his abandoned gravestone is pointed out to him amidst the unfeeling snow.
BLEAK HOUSE
Bleak House: features the batty Miss Flite—who christens her caged birds with apocalyptic names awaiting the day of judgment and a court case that consumes young, fresh and impressionable wards in a life-sucking way not unlike vampirism
While Bleak House’s Lady Deadlock is deliciously, drearily stagnant, awaiting the colour in life that will never fill the dark contours of her dreary life; so Mr. Tulkinghorn, her nemesis, skulks nearby with evidence that reminds of the most compelling of murder mysteries. Speaking of murder: the uncomely demise of Captain “Nemo” Hawdon features prominently in the story’s many threads, confused parentage and foreboding manners pepper the ongoing mysterious nature and the novel features Inspector Bucket: noted to be the one of the first (if not the first ) fictional detective.
As seen in David Copperfield, Oliver Twist and Great Expectations (to name a few examples), grim pictures of an orphan’s life were not unknown to Dickens’ pen and what could be more eerie than a creaking, rat-ridden, squelching damp hovel of a school for boys.
In NICHOLAS NICKLEBY: the aptly-named Wackford Squeers’ School for Boys is one of the most dark, dreary and scary places in literary fiction Squeers takes unwanted children: those crippled, deformed or abandoned and squeezes money out of them while horrendously mistreating them
The aforementioned are just snapshots of some of the more horrific and terribly tantalizing moments and features of the greatest Dickens’ novels. Charles Dickens may not have been wholly conscious that his work would be appropriated by those who love the ghoulish, the supernatural and the things-that-go-bump-in-the-night; but his eerie atmosphere was embedded naturally. First, he had the perfect setting: dank, overcrowded Victorian London: a place that he walked for hours every night while conjuring the spirits of the pen to help him paint the often grotesque portraits we see above. Secondly, he underwent a dark childhood full of life in a debtor’s prison (not unlike his heroine Amy “Little” Dorrit, in her eponymous tale, and filled with the fumes of an inhumane blacking factory. These dark tenets of his developing imagination as well as the vivid way in which he was able to reconstruct humanity: from its basest and darkest to its loftiest and most noble rendered him a perfect Hallowe’eny writer. Though not technically horror in the same way we label the genre frequented by Poe, Dickens’ dark atmosphere loans the chills and thrills required for those rainy October nights when branches tap the trees and you ache to be lost in a book where every crevice, squeak and move will recall ghosts, gruesomeness and shadow.

Faith Words Blog Tour: Kiss of Night by Debbie Viguie

2011-10-04T17:20:00.000-07:00

From the publisher: While visiting Prague for her beloved grandmother's funeral, Susan meets a dark, mysteriou man to whom she feels an instant and mesmerizing attraction. The man--Raphael--is a vampire, cursed for his sins to roam the earth for eternity. He needs Susan's help in a secret war against evil in a supernatural world that Susan never believed existed until now. Together, they are called on to exercise both courage and faith. KISS OF NIGHT ultimately asks the question: What would happen if a vampire truly accepted God?

Well, kids, it's come to this. The Christian industry--- known in the past to emulate popular secular trends and infuse pop culture with a stream or two of grace, has entered into Vamp territory. While Thirsty by Tracy Bateman used Vampirism as a metaphor, Kiss of Night stars Raphael: a True Blood, Anne Rice, Edward Cullen VAMPIRE caught in a struggle of spiritual warfare.

Christians: meet Vampires. Theology and the fiction surrounding legends of the undead is nothing new. After all, Christ rose from the dead three days after His Crucifixion; subsequently appearing in slightly different form to his disciples before ascending to heaven. As blood remains a major metaphor of salvation and redemption in the Bible and in Christianity, so does blood remain a life-giver in the lore of Vampirism. Symbolically, it is almost logical that these two tenets should meet. Especially if you need to put a face to the very real and prevalent darker evil forces Christians believe exist as truly as higher good. While Frank Peretti's fiction explores the more demonic elements, thus juxtaposing Biblical entities with a fiction that makes Spiritual battles ongoing and contemporary, so Viguie re-imagines the power between Good and Evil by using a timeless myth: that of an undead creature condemned to roam the world in a sort of half-life, sucking what he can from human warmth and kindness.

I'm going to be brutally honest and tell you that my preference is for Christianity and Vampirism to stay in their separate spheres: that God ordains good and ultimately negates darker forces and that age old Sunday School Question: "Would you be watching True Blood if you knew Jesus was in the room?" proves that never the twain should meet. However, I do believe that this fiction is timely and inevitable. At the very least, it can be a springboard for discussion. The book itself features Discussion Questions at the back; but I would like to point future readers to ponder a few other things:

Do Christians go too far in appropriating secular popularity in order to provide a Christian alternative? Christian Vampire Fiction is nothing if not an attempt at validating a very popular secular trend for our own.

Is the novel merely an emblem of a unique and new take raising questions about Hell and the afterlife, Eternal Damnation, and all that fun stuff...... or does it do nought but force a discordant clash between that which is Higher and Good and that which dwells ultimately in the darker forces of human nature?

To speak to the prose itself, I found a times it read very much like a Vampire story with Christianity tossed in to give it legs in a new market.... Not to mention the rather awkward infusion of Chapter heading scripture verses which speak to blood, the afterlife....anything to suit the author's timbre.
Take Chapter Fourteen, for example: " For the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul"---Leviticus 17:11. Pretty straightforward when inserted in its original context: as re-emphasizing the Sacrifice that plays into the whole of the Christian tradition.

I honestly, as mentioned, find this a little strained and a little odd. I don't know if Christians need Vampires and I don't know if we can make the case that Vampire fiction in a Christian vein will save the worldly souls that the Evangelical publishing world wants to string into the fold....

However, there's no doubt that this is an exciting read and that the author has pushed boundaries. I commend Hatchette Books for taking this risk and I commend Viguie for boldly going into territory where I know a lot of questions will be raised.

The questions are the most important part; so is the subsequent discussion. Every popular Christian or Religious tome from The Shack to The Da Vinci Code has excelled at one thing: it has forced an open dialogue between those in favour and those against. I have a feeling that Kiss of Night, like the two aforementioned novels, will be hard to avoid. There will be no inkling of a Laodicean thought about it.... you're either in or out....

You won't be either if you don't at least give this book a closer look. I feel it is an important work because it proves, as mentioned earlier, that Christians are invested in emulating trends... even if it means dappling into dark territory much scorned by our tradition for years.

I recognize that this review did not speak to specific plot points in the novel, or to Raphael and Susan's story; but I think it holds enough twists and surprises to intrigue you when you experience it for yourself. Rather, I wanted to use this space to raise questions about this bold foray in fiction and to encourage you as a faith-based reader ( or non-faith based reader) to explore this nearly unchartered territory. I will say this, I loved the Crusades backstory and the haunting and hallowed landscape of eerie Prague...

You should visit the author's website to learn more about this and some of her other titles
If you tweet, or are an active member of TWITTER, please note there will be a Twitter book Party for this title on OCTOBER 7. Use hashtag #kissofnight to join the discussion.

OTHER BLOGGERS featured in this book tour include:
http://www.fredasvoice.blogspot.com
http://www.kittycrochettwo.blogspot.com
http://www.heartofabookworm.blogspot.com
http://www.practicalfrugality.blogspot.com
http://www.electrifyingreviews.com
http://www.myonlyvice.blogspot.com

Make sure to check out these blogs for their opinions on this unique read! As for my copy, I'm passing it on to my friend Blake--- who may or may not yet believe that Christian Vampire fiction ACTUALLY exists ;)

Happy Reading!

This book is the first in a trilogy

My thanks to Hatchette Book Group for my review copy

The Lady of Bolton Hill by Elizabeth Camden

2011-10-01T04:01:00.000-07:00

I, like most of the followers of Christian Romance, was captivated when I first saw the striking cover for The Lady of Bolton Hill: a woman of the late Victorian age, staring wistfully out to a towering skyscraper: a clash of tradition with industry and change.

The city setting is as unique as some of the tenets of this historical romance. Daniel and Clara's world is Baltimore, Maryland: where high society, glitter and riches frost the booming industry, invention and grit of a world that is not what it seems.

This cover is SO pretty!

Clara Endicott and Daniel Tremain have been friends for years: very close friends in that sort of L. M. Montgomery Teddy/Emily or Anne/ Gil type of way: they yearn for each other's company, to learn, to play music; but are from very different worlds. Tragedy in Daniel's family catapults him into a state of progressive revenge: not only does he make a name for himself, destined to prove worthy of Clara and her world, he invests every fibre of his energy into seeking justice for a deed long done.

Danger, confusion and change await the two as they rediscover themselves and their child infatuation slowly blossoms into love.

The most poignant scenes take place in the music conservatory: where Clara and Daniel experiment with Chopin and with compositions of their own. The musical undertones of the novel were well-handled by Camden's pen. I also quite enjoyed the well-researched business world that took Daniel and his ilk high above the city in those massive skyscrapers, slowly chugging the wheels of change into motion.

The friction between Daniel and Clara as adults is a believable exposition of faith and doubt: while Clara holds steady to her belief that the Almighty is the ultimate Judge, Daniel cannot see past the wrongs done to himself and his family. The reader is engaged and slowly, deliciously tortured as you watch them inch toward meeting half way.

I highly recommend this novel as an example of a thought-provoking, well-researched and well-balanced novel by a fresh voice in contemporary Christian Romance.

I look forward to more by Elizabeth Camden.... and to see more of her cover treatment!

In fact, you can read more about the cover process for Lady of Bolton Hill in this article. The Novel Process shows us the many different covers considered for the book before the final decision and ( in my opinion) the right one. For fans of books, I found this a captivating snapshot and a nice companion piece to the book.

look! how pretty!

You can visit Elizabeth Camden's website to read her blog, learn more about The Lady of Bolton Hill and for a sneak peek at her new novel, the Rose of Winslow Street, publishing early 2012

My thanks to Bethany House for the review copy.

The Doctor's Lady by Jody Hedlund

2011-09-30T03:13:00.000-07:00

If you enjoyed Delia Parr’s Heart’s Awakening (an exceptionally quiet romance blossoming between two people who value mutual respect above physical chemistry and passion) and if you spent your teen years, like me, re-reading Janette Oke’s tales of the Canadian West where headstrong and bookish Elizabeth persuaded us through captivating narrative that we should all follow a red-coated Mountie like Wynn should we be fortunate enough, like she, to fall in his path: then you will love The Doctor’s Lady.

This is a smart Christian romance featuring a woman who acts on her calling. Given time, circumstance and legalistic views of the 19^th Century, she has to somewhat tweak what she feels led to do; but still follows her instinct and God’s command with aplomb.

Beautiful Priscilla White holds a steadfast desire to serve God while simultaneously hiding a secret that could shame her family and mar her future. She knows in her soul that missions is her driving force; but, due to the regulations of the time, she cannot do Mission’s work without a husband. Certain no one will marry her and uncertain wedded bliss is part and parcel of her calling, she is surprised when Dr. Eli Ernest proposes a marriage of convenience. She will not get to serve the heathen in India as she so long desired; but she will get to see first hand the fruits of the labour of a passionate doctor who railed and worked against all odds in order to find and carve his own calling to build a mission and hospital for the Nez Perce. In order to reach their destination, a gruelling, months-long ordeal from New York to Oregon Country is in store.

Not unlike scenes in Courting Morrow Little where good-natured Christ-followers are pitted against harsh elemental environs and hostile reception, so Dr.Ernest and his beautiful, resolute wife learn to respect and grow within the confines of their unique union.

As an unabashed romantic, I quite enjoyed the moments that proved both were not completely immune to the other’s physical presence, sparkle, charm…

This is not by any means a conventional romance and it does well at asserting and valuing a higher calling beyond that of the traditional domestic sphere. Thus, the chemistry and tension between the two well-paired individuals in our “marriage of convenience” do not expect any more than fulfilling their duty. More, when they are rewarded, in even the slightest ways, so the reader is: we revel and joy in their conviction, their unwavering stance and their symbolic representation of good and fortitude in the face of uncertainty.

There are many instances where the marriage of convenience plot can turn into a ripe cliché; but due to the unique structure of the story, Hedlund’s well-informed research and the gentle and believable way the characters prove malleable in twining and tweaking their camaraderie with each other all the while fulfilling their passions, this seems fresh. Hedlund also does well at featuring Priscilla’s dedication and calling as equal to Eli Ernest’s. In so many cases, fictionally and otherwise, women are supposed to take the back seat to the male calling: to follow blindly and to shelve their own personal ideals and convictions to greater serve the dominant male.

We all know that God speaks to both men and women and no calling is either than the other, regardless of sex. Therefore, while Priscilla had to (as mentioned, due to the confines of circumstance and the structure of 19^th Century ideals) somewhat tweak her initial passion for India, she was resolute in her calling as a missionary and God Bless Eli Ernest for recognizing that a female’s calling is as potent as a man’s! Hedlund's message speaks greatly to the power of women to change circumstance and this undercurrent motive reminded me a lot of Lynn Austin's ongoing thesis: and you KNOW how high a statement that is in my books :-)

Hedlund’s author’s note informs us that Priscilla White’s story is informed by the remarkable adventures of Narcissa Whitman. The book is so adventurous, moving and beguiling, I can just imagine what a biography of Whitman would read like! For now, I offer great thanks to Jody Hedlund for spreading the limelight on a story of personal discovery, endurance and love: in all forms.

Make sure you visit Bethany House's website for more information about the book
Also stop by Jody Hedlund's website to learn more about her books, read her blog and discuss her inspirations for writing. You can find links there to follow her on twitter or subscribe to her facebook page.
Buy the book on AMAZON

I have heard remarkable things about The Preacher's Bride and so this author is again on my list for the very near future.

My thanks to Bethany House for the review copy.

Litfuse Blog Tour: The Heiress by Susan May Warren

2011-09-29T03:57:00.000-07:00

Today is a bit of a first on the blog as I introduce the first novel I have reviewed here by Susan May Warren. This is not my first Warren book, however; but my first historical.

A little about Susan May Warren, one of the best-loved writers in the Christian market:

Susan May Warren is an award-winning, best-selling author of over twenty-five novels, many of which have won the Inspirational Readers Choice Award, the ACFW Book of the Year award, the Rita Award, and have been Christy finalists. After serving as a missionary for eight years in Russia , Susan returned home to a small town on Minnesota ’s beautiful Lake Superior shore where she, her four children, and her husband are active in their local church.

Susan's larger than life characters and layered plots have won her acclaim with readers and reviewers alike. A seasoned women’s events and retreats speaker, she’s a popular writing teacher at conferences around the nation and the author of the beginning writer’s workbook: From the Inside-Out: discover, create and publish the novel in you!. She is also the founder ofwww.MyBookTherapy.com, a story-crafting service that helps authors discover their voice.

Susan makes her home in northern Minnesota , where she is busy cheering on her two sons in football, and her daughter in local theater productions (and desperately missing her college-age son!)

The Heiress is the first historical novel I have read by Susan May Warren. Similar to the award-winning novel, She Walks in Beauty by Siri Mitchell, The Heiress is set in the Gilded Age and features a heroine torn between her high society standing and recognizing the tarnished edges beneath the sheen of society’s gloss.

Retelling the story of Jacob and Esau, the novel (the first in the Daughters of Fortune trilogy) spins the tale of high-spirited Esme: the eldest daughter, the first to lay claim to birthright. Esme follows closely the news unraveling in the tenements and the slums of the cities and remains captivated by the surge of female journalists way-laying their traditional domestic role and by the photos of social documenter Jacob Riis. Esme is desperate to rip away from her father’s newspaper empire and craft a journalist’s life of her own: leaving parties and corsets behind.

Jinx, the youngest, envies her sister’s birthright: most so when a devastating family secret looms near enough to prove she should have right of succession. Beguiled by parties, social outings and the near-looming presence of the wealthy match intended for her elder sister, Jinx wallows in envy: learns the ways of a social flirt and excels at being the opposite to Esme’s social conscious and moral compass.

No two sisters could be more unlike and yet when their separate plots spin wayward, we begin to realize the similarities in their passions, love and plights. While Esme loves the butler’s son, Oliver: a ruffian who lives in Hell’s Kitchen to better understand and unmask the social depravity therein; Jinx falls in love with a man forbidden her: an emblem of wealth and prosperity made problematic due to the care and attentiveness Jinx is unused to and its clash with her own sense of worthlessness.

Family secrets, violence, underhanded deeds and the claim on birthright propel the story in a fast-paced waltz symbolic of the lavish gatherings these characters populate.

I couldn’t help but think of Downton Abbey or the Foryste Saga while reading this family soap opera. There is high melodrama here including a rather poorly set up case of mistaken identity in a nightly tryst : it was questionable moments like this that not only made me feel less and less empathy for the lead characters; but also recalled some of Tracie Peterson’s dime-novel tactics (remember the evil/good twins Chase and Jayce in one of the Alaska series?).

I have read a contemporary chicklit of Warren’s and found it rather diverting and pleasant and plotted out. I count the aforementioned questionable writing methods as rookie mistakes in the historical vein and have high hopes for the series; for I really think she has enough of the captivating story-teller about her to smooth out any glitches in subsequent novels. Thus, I do recommend this book highly, despite its inaugural hiccups.

As mentioned, I found the characters in the novel very hard to empathize with: made more so by the penchant the author has for intruding with historical detail that does not ingrain itself with verisimilitude or sensibility; rather is mushed into dialogue: choppy and uneven. By mid-novel complaints I had of pages and pages of set-up dialogue (often terse, loquacious and inserted as a method of double, no, triple checking that we followed what period she was writing in and the idiosyncrasies therein) tapered off slightly and Warren found her stride.

So, we are told rather than shown of Esme and Jinx’s conflicting beliefs, of their opposing natures and, near middle, of their similar circumstance. Warren does well at pitting one against society while showing the other’s weakness at the prospect of losing the comfortable lifestyle she is accustomed to.

I must give an upgrade to the book due to the winsome heroes: Bennett, Jinx’s eventual suitor, is a kind and flawed man who sees the worth beyond her family fortune and upscale name. Oliver holds a torch for Esme for years and watches in periphery as she is catapulted into a life expected by her family.

This is high melodrama; but I do commend Warren on her spicy and sensual approach to the relationships painted in the novel. There is moral fibre, yes, but not at the expense of humanity. Not unlike Laura Frantz's portrayal of young and vibrant physical relationships and passion in Courting Morrow Little, as one example. I enjoy that Warren infuses her work with this vitality and, even though her fiction is set in a Christian sphere, I find this enhances its believability and readability.

I appreciate the rather passionate undertones of the book and Warren’s knack for description. She has a way of alluding to the physical in a few, slight words and the book, at times, and given its spicy tone, is well-handled by her talent: leaving you with just enough to paint in the imaginative blanks in your mind’s eye. I only wish this, one of her obvious strengths, was the same measure taken when painting her historical canvas.

The first in a series full of danger, mystery, social conditioning, tangled love, secrets and betrayal--- enough to make me want to follow through the end and to lose myself in the escapist world of horseless carriages, crinoline and afternoon tennis matches, yachts and dinner parties once more.

I'll be checking out more of Susan May Warren's books and I hope you do, too!

There is a sneak peek chapter on Susan's website so you can get a feel of the story!

Make sure you check out Susan's blog here

You can order the book on amazon!

Also, AWESOME contest care of LITFUSE: make sure you visit their website for details: Enter to win an opulent Gilded Age prize pack fit for an heiress in Susan May Warren’s fun giveaway ($100 to ModCloth.com, iPod Shuffle, Pearls, Titanic, Music & More!)!

There, you will also find the listings for the full blog tour so that you can read what others think about The Heiress!

My thanks to Litfuse for allowing me to take part in this exciting tour and for the copy of this exciting new novel!

Live Loved: Experiencing God's Presence in Everyday Life

2011-09-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

You know those points in life when Christians wish they had a really, really special gift book? Water Baptisms, Missions Trips, hardships or illness, a young member of the congregation stepping out of the nest and moving to a new town or city for school...

Live Loved is basically the answer to a myriad of these situations. Superficially, its presentation: (hardcover, complete with ribboned bookmark and page to denote who the gift is for) supplies it the touches needed to sign, with love and share...

On the inside, the book is rapt with the gentle, scripture-based guidance and wisdom we love from Max Lucado and which I also speak to here.

Relevant and amusing anecdotes precede each kernel of love-empowered wisdom ensuring that the reader has the small challenge, mantra or encouragement needed while wrapped in a snuggly cup of hot chocolate or a warm embrace to urge them on. Insert Lucado's flashes of downright humour (i.e., on Gomer: "She had the fidelity code of a prairie jackrabbit") and your short, devotional-sized readings are complete with the pick-me-up, or jolt of caffeine needed to see you through bleak days.

I cannot think of a person, Christian or not, coming from a wide spectrum of circumstances who would evade a chance of a daily reminders of unconditional love. Lucado has a subtle and grace-filled way of presenting the Gospel that makes it easy, accessible, and medicinally just like a spoon-full-of-sugar.

Whether you decide to look this up to give as a gift (really. it makes a good one) or you selfishly (maybe not so selfishly) decide that this would best suit your bookshelf... fans of Max Lucado and devotees of Devotionals will not be disappointed.

My sincere thanks to Thomas Nelson for providing this book.

You can find it on amazon ( in hardcover or for your kindle!) or chapters.ca

Make sure to visit Max Lucado's website