Books I have authored.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Mad to Glad by Angie Harris


This is a children's book that uses the Mindfulness meditation practices to help kids feel better about themselves and to deal with normal childhood experiences.

I would have liked to have seen a bit more information in the forward of the book about  Mindfulness meditation.  I Googled it to give me a better frame of reference in reviewing the book.   The goal of the book is highly laudable.  Helping children deal with day to day issues is something every parent deals with on that same day to day basis.   The exercises may help.   I don't have access to any kids at the moment to get an informed opinion based on an age related perception.

As a retired public school guidance counselor I can see value in the book and the suggested exercises. 

Web site: http://mindfularomatherapy.blogspot.com/2015/05/mad-to-glad-happy-to-sad.html

This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Dark Angel by Ron Felber




At the risk of redundancy,  Jack Madson is back and wallowing in self inflicted despair once again.  This book is not for the faint of heart, topics and descriptions are nearly painful to read and frankly impossible to comprehend.  Nazi or Neo-Nazi machinations directing American black ops research is the dominating theme. 

Felber appears to have a very low regard for the positives in life.   His characters are dark and severely flawed.   Jack Madson's introspection could be labeled as dark and hopeless.   His self medicating has reached new highs while providing him with physical new lows.

There is eventually a possible initiating factor in what fuels Madson's seemingly schizophrenic nature.

The book is often confusing and disjointed.   Madson's wife and daughter have cameo roles.   Incongruities such as Madson being able to pull, seemingly out of thin air, his requisite pain killers and sleeping pills tend to stop you in your tracks and wonder, where did that come from?

Considering all of the black operations that have been  exposed over the years, it does not seem too unlikely that some of the paranoia shown by Madson could be real.  

As I said on my previous Felber reviews, I can't say I enjoyed it primarily due to the graphic nature of some of the scenes but it certainly was an interesting book.   From this and his previous books I can only  conclude that Felber has strong feelings that society is overall corrupt.  Jack Madson is a true anti-hero. 

I recommend the book, it should make you ponder your own reality.

Web Site: http://www.ronfelber.com/


This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.

Monday, April 11, 2016

Miracle Cure By Harlan Coben

Coben has an eclectic style.   This book reminded me more of a Michael Palmer or Robin Cook book due to it's medical crisis focus.  The crisis is AIDS and the setting is in those frightening years of homophobic panic and AIDS patients facing no future.

This book highlights the dangers of obsession regardless of what that obsession might be and whether it is socially acceptable or not.  I'm not sure if Coben meant this book to be a social commentary beyond AIDS but the well meaning tunnel vision of some of the characters show the lengths people will go to achieve their goals.  

This was illustrated by journalistic jingoism, sexual degradation, exploitation of children, medical malpractice, sociopathology running amuck and more.   The scenes taking place in Bangkok  were particularly difficult to read.

While the topic is a touch dated with the advent of successful treatments for AIDS,  it still provided enough social panache to hold your interest.  .   It is also hard to believe the incredible disconnect and discrimination that occurred in the book's time setting.



This was a compelling book.

I highly recommend.





This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Terminal Freeze by Lincoln Child



Lincoln Child tends to write about improbable but entertaining "strange" occurrences.  I'm never sure whether to post my reviews on Azure Dwarf which is my Sci/Fi/Fantasy site or here.   This book is set deep in the arctic circle and alludes to global warming.   The glaciers and snow pack are dwindling at unprecedented speed.  A team of scientists are exploring that impact on the ecology and are sponsored by a "science"  cable channel.  What the team uncovers changes the parameters of the study and escalates into mayhem. 

There are no truly central characters in the book.   There are some characters that get more page time than others but none are truly memorable.   The story follows an Alien type of format.   As too much detail tends to lead to spoiling the story, it is sufficient to state that blood, guts, mayhem, fear, secret research and government cover ups are all included in the plot.

I recommend the book.

Site:  http://lincolnchild.com/
This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Ten Shoes Up by Gary L. Stuart

This is the second cowboy story or Western I have read by Staurt.  The first was The Vallles Caldera.  I don't normally read Westerns.   I was a bit surprised that I liked it.  Angus Esparazza is the main character and a big chunk of the book is the exploration of his character.   This is the first book in the series and explains how Angus becomes an occasional lawman.

Angus is a thinking man in an action time environment.   He is forced to examine his personal morals when faced with questionable definitions of crime.  

The setting is, once again, a strong  point to the story.   You can picture the rushing mountain rivers and majestic peaks.   The plot is involved and you are forced to do a modicum of research to find out if that is really the way the old west was.   

I enjoyed it and recommend it.  BTW I didn't find a real Ten Shoes Up mountain with a very brief Internet search. 
 
Site:  http: http://garylstuart.com/


This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

An Excerpt of Eric Lotke's Making Manna

Making Manna by Eric Lotke
An Excerpt

The kindergarten classroom is bright with color. Sunny windows with rainbow curtains look over a grassy playground. The floor is carpeted in blue, scattered with yellow throw rugs and purple pillows. In the center is a cluster of red tables with little green chairs; on each table sits a stack of paper, and jars with pencils, crayons, and little scissors with rounded points.
Angel stands by himself in the corner. His clothes are all new to him, but every one of them came used from Goodwill and the Salvation Army. The room is filled with kids, but nobody seems to notice Angel standing quietly.
Two girls in matching red Elmo sweaters greet each other with a hug, and chatter excitedly about a playgroup called LittleKinz. Two boys in Redskins jerseys dare each other to jump into the deep end of the pool when they get home. One tells the other that his parents can’t use their opera tickets on Saturday. “My mom said to tell your mom that you can have them if you want.”
The only African American child is in the center of a little crowd, dressed in bright pink from top to bottom. She wears a pink shirt covered by a pink vest, pink pants with pink socks and shoes, and a pink hat with a pink feather. “We made the biggest dog fort!” she is telling the other kids. She and her sister found “every blanket and towel in the house” and hung them over the sofas and chairs in the living room until the “the whole room was full.” They crawled around in the space underneath and made space for all their “stuffy dogs” so each one had a room of her own.
“We played in it all day,” she says. “But then the maids cleaned it up. That ruined it.”
Eventually the teacher moves to the front of the room. “Come on up, boys and girls. Welcome to kindergarten. I’m Ms. Milton and I’ll be your teacher. We’re going to spend the whole year together!” Ms. Milton is wearing blue jeans and a green blouse with flowers, and her hair is entirely silver-gray.
“Who here knows how to write his name?”
Almost every hand in the class goes up. Angel’s doesn’t.
“That’s wonderful!” Ms. Milton cries. “I thought you looked smart!” She ushers them toward the tables and sets them to work making name tags for themselves. “There are stickers and crayons,” she explains. “You can decorate them anyway you like.”
Angel stays where he is, rooted in place at the edge of the hurly-burly, while Ms. Milton bustles around setting the kids up and passing out the supplies.
“Done already?” she says to the African American girl in pink. She peels the back of the sticker that now says Veronica West and places it in the center of her shirt. “Everyone else do like Veronica,” she says. “Peel off your sticker and put it on when you’re done. You can keep drawing until everyone is finished.”
Another girl raises her hand. “I’m done,” she says.
“Peel your sticker and put it on,” Ms. Milton replies.
She turns and all but stumbles on Angel, standing silently in his space. “What have we here?” she asks.
Angel straightens his back and stands tall. “My name is Angel Thompson,” he says. “I don’t know how to write my name.”
Ms. Milton seems almost embarrassed that she hadn’t seen him earlier. “Then we’ll teach you,” she says with a smile. “That’s what we’re here for.” She waves toward a teachers’ aide who Angel only now notices, also standing quietly to one side of the room. She brings Angel to a special table by himself, not far from the others, but clearly separate.

By the end of the morning, Angel is pretty good at writing his name and knows a lot of other letters besides. The teachers’ aide, Miss Stephanie, spends most of her time with Angel, though occasionally another child comes over for a few minutes’ attention. For lunch he eats the sandwich his mom made for him, peanut butter and jelly, with two Hershey’s kisses on the side. “That’s what my mom always made for me,” she’d said.
The activity after lunch is drawing. The children are again shown to the desks with the papers and crayons, and invited to draw pictures of their families.
“Can I draw my dog?” asks Veronica West.
“Your dog, your cat, your house. Anything you want,” says Ms. Milton. “But start with your family.”
Angel is placed into the tables with the other children, but near an edge, and Miss Stephanie gives him special attention.
This at least is familiar to Angel. Miss Josephine’s day care had crayons and papers—though not as many colors—and Monet loves to draw at home. With encouragement from Miss Stephanie, Angel draws three stick figures in a row.
“Who’s the tall one?” Miss Stephanie asks. She’s pretty tall herself, with long black hair and eyeglasses in a big round circle. She wears blue overalls over a yellow turtleneck.
“That’s my mom.”
“Which one is you?”
Angel points to the smallest stick figure, drawn in the same pink crayon as his mother. “That’s me,” he says. “My name is Angel.” He points to his nametag and his face lights up in a smile. Then he reaches back for the crayons and for a minute it’s as if Miss Stephanie doesn’t exist. He leans close over his drawing, all his attention on the little figure at the end of the row. Carefully, deliberately, he retraces the lines and redraws the figure. Then letter by letter, he spells out his name under the drawing. He looks back up at Miss Stephanie, and points back and forth between the picture and the word. “Angel,” he says. “That’s me!”
“That’s you, all right,” Miss Stephanie cheers. She reaches down for a hug and a pat. “You’re the Angel.” The she points to the third figure, midway in height between Angel and his mom. “Is that your dad?” she asks.
Angel looks at her like she asked which one is the elephant. The question makes no sense. “I don’t have a dad,” he says.
“Surely, you have a dad somewhere,” protests Miss Stephanie. “Are your parents divorced?”
Angel stays silent.
“Does he live in a different state?”
“Mom says he died in a car accident,” Angel explains at last. “With my mom’s parents too. It’s just the three of us that’s left.” He pauses as if he’s going to have more to say, but then nothing follows, and he looks blankly down to the page.
“So who is this?” Miss Stephanie asks, her finger is still on the third figure. “Your older brother?”
“She’s my sister.”
“Why is she drawn in brown?” Angel and his mom are stick figures drawn in pink crayon, but his sister is brown.
“Because she looks like her.” He points toward Veronica West. “She says to tell the truth when I draw.”
Lights are starting to go off in Miss Stephanie’s eyes, as if she is starting to understand. She looks carefully at Angel, who clearly has no African blood in his veins. “Do you and your sister have the same mom?” she asks.
“No,” says Angel. “She has her own separate mommy.”
“The same dad?”
“Nope,” Angel replies. “She has her own daddy too. His name is Zeb. She tells me that I met him once. But I was a baby. I don’t remember it.”
Now Miss Stephanie is again looking confused. “If you have a different mom and a different dad, what makes her your sister?”
“She’s not legally my sister,” with an emphasis that suggests he’s heard it said this way before. “She’s in a different foster family but she lives with us.”
“Why’s that?”
“She likes us better. We’re nicer than the foster family. I met them a couple of times. They have lots of foster kids and my mom—my real mom—says they only do it for the money.”
All this time Miss Stephanie had been standing up over Angel, and leaning down toward him. Now she gets down on her knees so she’s nearer his height. “What’s your sister’s name?”
“Monet. Like the artist.”
Miss Stephanie smiles. “Does she like to draw?”
“She loves it! Especially with colors. We draw all the time.” He leans in close, takes advantage of her proximity to whisper confidentially in her ear, “She’s in sixth grade.” Then he gathers himself to say something difficult, and minding his diction, he concludes, “She’s in Sidney Lanier Middle School.”
“Good work,” says Miss Stephanie, beaming. “That’s great. I was an intern at Sidney Lanier.”
Angel looks brightly back at her. “Her bus leaves at 7:10, a whole hour before mine.”
“Thanks for telling me,” says Miss Stephanie. “Do you know where Monet’s parents are? Her real parents?” She smiles as she echoes his way of saying it.
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
Angel slows down and straightens up to tackle something difficult again. “The Virginia Department of Corrections,” he says. He pauses to make sure he got it right.
Miss Stephanie stands up and steps away.
“Mom is in Fluvanna and Dad’s in Nottoway,” Angel concludes with a triumphant smile, naming the prison where each is held. He got it all right.
And just in time, too. Because at that moment, Ms. Milton calls everyone’s attention back to the center of the room. “Time to pack up,” she says. “All done drawing. Now it’s quiet time.”

Miss Stephanie and Ms. Milton shepherd the kids to a giant double-door closet, filled with rolled-up soft mats, one for each kid. The two boys in Redskins jerseys have a little push scuffle about who goes first, but it is quickly broken up, and soon enough each child has unrolled a mat and is lying quietly on the floor. Angel picks a spot on the edge, between Miss Stephanie’s desk and the window. He doesn’t sleep, but he lies quietly listening to the sounds. Some kids are reading, and turning pages in their books. Other kids are breathing in a way that makes Angel think they’re asleep. Outside he hears birds. They sound like the same ones he has at home, sometimes singing at random, and sometimes in response as if they’re talking to each other. A teacher quickly hushes any children who talk.
What seems like a few minutes later, a church in the distance chimes one o’clock. Ms. Milton starts to circle the room. “Wakey, wakey,” she says. “Time to roll.” She and Miss Stephanie supervise the kids standing up to roll their mats and use the bathroom. Angel is the first one with his mat rolled and returned to the closet. He helps some other kids roll their mats and work out the tricky elastic bands that hold them shut.
“Thank you very much,” says a blonde haired girl in a blue tank top.
“You’re welcome,” Angel replies.
Veronica West has her mat rolled but can’t get the elastics to stay in place. “Want a hand?” says Angel, scooting in beside her.
She looks at him like he’s holding a gun to her head. “I can do it,” she declares. The elastic snaps loose again and the mat starts to unroll. She scowls at him. “Look what you made me do!”
Angel reaches down to arrest the mat. “Hold it like this,” he suggests.
“Like as if you know,” says Veronica West, as she rips the mat away from him and sets it down to start anew a few steps away.
Angel leaves her be and stands quietly to the side until all the mats have been put away. Veronica West is last, until Miss Stephanie takes her mat away, fixes the elastics and replaces it gently into the closet.
“Story time,” says Ms. Milton. “Goldilocks and the Three Bears.” She holds in the air a giant book, with a picture of a little blond girl and a family of bears on the cover.
Some children shout out in enthusiasm. “Hooray!” Angel hears, and from behind him, “My favorite!”
Other kids aren’t so happy. “Not again,” says one of the boys in a Redskins jersey. His friend grumbles but Angel can’t make out the words.
Angel himself doesn’t know the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Indeed, he doesn’t know many stories at all . . . though he knows he likes them. The other kids all push around Ms. Milton, and she directs them to sit around her in a loose circle. Angel soon finds himself on the outside edge.
Ms. Milton opens the book so it stretches across her lap. He’s never seen a book so large in his life. Miss Josephine had a scattering of books, though none nearly so big, and she rarely read them.
“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Goldilocks,” begins Ms. Milton. She holds up the book so everyone can see the giant picture of the pretty blond girl.
“She went for a walk in the forest.” Again she holds up the book to show the pictures. Trees in the sunshine, a deer in the shade and birds flying above.
“Pretty soon, she came upon a house.” Ms. Milton holds up the picture of a wooden cottage. “She knocked and, when no one answered, she walked right in.”
The audience murmurs in anticipation. Angel, too, senses the possibilities.
Showing the pictures as she goes, Ms. Milton tells the class how Goldilocks explores the house. One bowl of porridge is too hot and one too cold, but the third is perfect so she eats it all up. One chair is too big and one is too small, and the small one breaks when she tries to squeeze in. Then at last Goldilocks comes to the beds. One is too hard and one is too soft. But the third bed is just right. She lies down to take a nap.
“Don’t do it!” cries one of the Redskins boys. Other kids laugh.
“Stay awake,” warns another.
But Goldilocks can’t hear them. Soon she falls asleep in the bed.
Angel leans forward in anticipation.
Soon the owners of the home come back, and they’re bears! Ms. Milton holds up the pictures for all to see. A big scary papa bear, a friendly momma bear, and a cute little baby bear. A family of bears who live in the woods. Before long they find the chairs that didn’t fit and the smallest one that broke. They find the porridge that Goldilocks tasted and the perfect one she’d finished off. Each discovery makes them angrier than the last. Eventually, they find her upstairs in their bed.
Goldilocks wakes up in horror at the three hairy beasts . . . “and runs straight out the door and into the forest, crying mommy, mommy, mommy all the way home.”
The kids all cheer. Ms. Milton holds the giant book aloft, pages open to Goldilocks tearing through the woods with the bears chasing behind.
One girl echoes, “Mommy, mommy, mommy all the way home.”
Another cries out, “Run faster!”
Ms. Milton lets them celebrate awhile, then encourages them onwards. “How’d you like it?” she asks the class.
The children respond with more cheers.
“Do you think she made it home?”
Again more cheers.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
At first the room is silent. The children don’t seem to know quite what to say. Eventually Veronica West raises her hand.
“What’s on your mind, Miss Veronica West?” Ms. Milton inquires.
“I want to know if bears can have dogs.”
“I didn’t see any in the story . . . but yes, I suppose they can. I don’t see why not.”
The blonde girl in the blue tank top who Angel helped with her mat raises her hand.
Ms. Milton singles her out. “What’s your name?”
“Tammy Atford.”
“What’s your question, Tammy Atford?”
“Does she get in trouble?”
“What do you think?”
“I bet she does.”
“Then I bet you’re right. Seems like she didn’t even make the bed!”
All the kids laugh. Ms. Milton keeps the conversation moving on along those lines, calling on every child by name and sometimes asking them to repeat their names for all to hear. Some kids are worried about the broken chair and want her to say she’s sorry. All of them hope she gets home safely. Angel doesn’t say a word. But he’s sitting in a place with a good view of the book and he studies the artwork on the cover, especially the red cardinal in the tree.
“Is there anything else?” Ms. Milton asks at last. Does anyone have anything else to say or ask?” The room is silent while she looks around.
Finally, Angel sits up straight and raises his hand. Ms. Milton sees him immediately and leans his way in encouragement. “What’s on your mind, little Angel?”
“My name is Angel Thompson,” he says.
“Thank you, Angel. What’s on your mind?”
He gathers himself to speak deliberately. “It’s about the porridge,” he says. “That’s like oatmeal, right?”
“Yes, porridge is like oatmeal.” She makes a gesture as if stirring and eating from a bowl in her hand. “Is there something you’d like to say about the porridge?”
“Why doesn’t she mix it?”
Ms. Milton looks at him in confusion. “Mix it?”
“One bowl is too hot. One is too cold. She could mix them. Put too hot and too cold together. Then she’d have more porridge that’s all just right.”
Ms. Milton’s eyes open wide in comprehension. Mix the porridge, of course!
Angel forges ahead boldly. “She could still eat the bowl that’s just right. But if she’s hungry she can eat even more.”
Now all of the kids seemed to understand. A positive murmur fills the room. He catches some words behind him. “Mix the porridge, mix the temperature!” Someone else says “hot and cold together” while a different voice says “more to eat!”
Veronica West’s voice rises above the hubbub. “She’d get fat.”
“Not from one bowl of oatmeal,” protests Angel. “And she seems to be hungry.” He finishes with words he’s heard many times around the house. “You never know where your next meal is coming from.”
The kids fall silent and look at him in surprise. They don’t seem to have heard that before.
“But she still needs to pay for it,” he concludes. He looks deeply troubled, like he’s solved one problem but raised another. “I don’t know how she can do that.” He turns to Ms. Milton for answers. “Does she have any money? Does her mom work at night?”
Still Angel is the only one talking. The room is silent while Angel waits for an answer, but at that moment the school bell rings. The kids all jump up like they know what it means, though Angel waits for Ms. Milton to make the announcement. “All done for the day. See you tomorrow!”

COPYRIGHT 2015 BY ERIC LOTKE

This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

A Q&A with Eric Lotke the Author of Making Manna


Interview Questions for 
Eric Lotke
Author of Making Manna



1.      Who is your favorite author? Favorite book?
I don’t really have favorites. My tastes are diverse and changing. I enjoy biographies by Doris Kearns Goodwin and political science by Jacob Hacker.

The best novel I read lately was The Master Butchers Singing Club by Louise Erdrich. It’s copyright 2002 but the setting is America post WWI and the characters are timeless. Men We Reaped by Jesmyn Ward was a highlight of 2015 and I expect it to last a while. It’s the memoir of an African American woman in low-income America. All of the men important in her life disappear over a couple of years — shot, drugged, suicide or jailed. But somehow the police who happily patrol the neighborhood every night with searchlights can’t manage even to arrest the drunk white driver who kills her brother.

I’ve also been delighted to re-read John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. The first time was on my daughter’s recommendation. The second time was voluntary after seeing the movie.


2.      What book are you reading now?
I just started Viral by Emily Mitchell. It’s a collection of short stories and I’ve only read a few so I don’t have an opinion yet. But it came highly recommended and the first story is terrific. It’s about a small business where the staff are measured, marked, ranked and made miserable because they aren’t smiling enough.


3.      What inspired you to write Making Manna?
Trigger warning. This story has a really bad beginning.

Twenty years ago I was working on a death penalty case. The young man on death row was the product of an incestuous rape. I wrote those words in his social history — “product of an incestuous rape.” The phrase was so distasteful that I horrified even myself. The case came and went but those words stuck with me.

Years later, I wanted to write something hopeful and uplifting. The world is a mess. I wanted to say something nice.

So I went back to that kid. I started there but gave him a different ending. I took the worst beginning I could imagine and turned it into something positive.


4.      What was your particular process in terms of outlining, plot and character?
I had a beginning in mind, from that death penalty case. And I had an end in mind. But I wasn’t sure how to get there.

I found that I could always and only see a few chapters in advance. So I would tell the story that far, then taking that as the baseline, outline what happens next – with the endpoint in mind. The characters and internal details developed as they went.


5.      Where is your favorite place to write?
I am opportunistic in time and space. I work full time and I have two kids. I drive them to practices, lessons and activities – and have an hour or two to write while I wait. When I was lucky, I’d have a whole half-day at home on a weekend. It mattered that I wasn’t on deadline. If I needed time to figure something out or went a month without a free minute, that was okay. I always keep a notebook handy. My creativity is better than my memory.


6.      What was your favorite part about writing the book?
This was really interesting. When I wrote a scene that was happy and light, I was in a better mood at bedtime. When I wrote a scene that was dark or dreary, I wasn’t as joyful in real life. Putting myself into the mood to create the scene expanded beyond the page.

I suppose it went the other way, too. One weekend I had a lot of time to write and I was looking forward writing the scene that came next. I expected it to be happy and triumphant. As it turned out, I was a little blue that weekend. Maybe I had a cold, something was wrong at work or the kids were annoying. Whatever. I don’t recall. But I remember being a little down as I started … and it is quite clear that this fundamentally happy scene has a melancholy undertow. I always wonder if that undertow was inherent in the material and it would have been there anyway, or if it reflects my temper over the weekend.

In any case, I quite like the complexity and I never sought to iron it out.


7.      Why did you decide to write from the perspective of Libby rather than her son, Angel?
The book begins from Libby’ point of view. Angel is a baby. Yes, he’s occasionally cute, but he’s more of a prop than a character. Mostly he’s a logistical problem that needs diapers and daycare. Starting in Part Two the story moves to Angel’s point of view, and it ages with him from kindergarten to high school. In the end the two points of view come together. Now they’re equals.

One smart reader described it as a “coming of age” story of both the mother and son at the same time. I think that’s exactly right. Libby was so young when he was born! She has so much to figure out, and so does he. I think changing the point of view helps bring that development to life.


8.      Libby comes from a tough background but manages to work hard and support her family. How accurate do you think her life is compared to a real-life girl in her situation? What research did you do to keep the novel grounded?
All of her problems are real. She has a bad boss and not enough money, and she’s (justifiably) afraid of the police. She solves her problems in ways that are always credible and based on real world experience. I readily admit, however, that her success is unlikely.  Does one in five people like her succeed? One in twenty? A hundred? I want to show the hopeful possibility – while also making it clear that life is hard and the odds are against her.

Good luck makes a difference, too. Libby meets Sheila at the outset, and her health stays good. She gives the good luck back, though, doing favors for others. I think it’s honest to show that luck makes a difference. That’s not a novelist’s trick.


9.      Sheila and her husband have a bad experience with the prison system. Does this aspect of the plot come from your experience as a lawyer?
Absolutely. That’s the heart of the story. Typical fiction shows us courtroom dramas with cutting cross examinations and explosive closing arguments. My personal experience brings you people with really bad lawyers who accept really bad plea bargains. Justice on TV is about crime labs and DNA exonerations. The real justice system is about kids who miss their parents in prison, and cops who book you so they can bill overtime on your court date.


10. How else did your career influence the book?
Can you tell that I once earned my living as a chef?

More importantly, my life as a parent influenced the book. It would have been a different book if I weren’t a dad.


11. Libby talks about one day getting her GED and maybe even going to college. What would be her major in college?
Heavens! I don’t know. I’d have to put her in college, have her meet some people, take some classes and live some college experiences … then she’d be in a position to decide.

During the story, a supporting character decides to go to college. As an author I was struggling to decide what college she should go to. So instead of thinking, I worked it out as a story.

First, I knew she was on a tight budget and could only afford a small number of application fees. Second, the logic of her situation defined her choices, for example, her state school. Third, her profile as a candidate determined which schools would admit her and under what terms. In the end she made a choice that followed naturally from the options available.

The point is that instead of deciding where she should go to school from a big fat Barron’s book, I just followed the situation to its conclusion. It feels real because it is.


12. What do you hope readers will take away from Making Manna?
First, I want readers to have a good time. Escapism is okay. You deserve a break today. You bought my book: I owe you a good time.

But I also want readers to reflect on the understory and worry about the injustice, especially in the justice system. The obvious problem is bad cops and excessive prison terms. The subtler problem is that people who need protection don’t get it, and people who’ve been hurt don’t get help. That’s a different failing of our justice system. I explore those failings and show a different way out.


13. Do you plan to write a sequel?
I hadn’t planned to, but people have asked and now I’m tempted. A plot is starting to take shape. I have another book in mind, too. It depends, of course, on how this book is received.

Come back on March 30 to read an excerpt of  Making Manna



This book may have been received free of charge from a publisher or a publicist. That will NEVER have a bearing on my recommendations.