The first images that come to mind about Mississippi weather are usually ones that conjure sweat out of our pores just thinking about the hot and hottest of July and August.  Next are probably the historic hurricanes and swooping spring tornadoes that render us paralyzed by fear.  After spring and summer, we can usually just lean back and be glad autumn and football have arrived.  Yet there was the devastating ice storm of 1994 that plunged Oxford, Ms, into a finger and toe freezing no man’s land.  That is the major setting of Lisa Howorth’s entertaining and newly released novel Flying Shoes.

Mary Byrd Thornton is our middle-aged protagonist mother of two, wife of a respected Oxonian gallery owner Charles Thornton, and lover of her neglected garden spilling onto her porch. She can spout off the names of growing things like any master gardener, is an intelligent woman whose musings range from wittily described people and places living in Oxford all the way to Richmond, Virginia, where she had attended William and Mary. While there, she immersed herself in its history and a particular diary written by one of Charles’ ancestors.  Her story is dotted with references to significant events in Mississippi, too, ranging from the University Greys to politics to racism.  She’s a woman whose friends are all male, she’s spunky, edgy, sarcastic and deeply caring, especially toward her children.  She’s the kind of woman who can “play, drink and clean the bathroom sink” (thank you, Marie Lambert,  these lyrics from your album Platinum).  All that, and she’s tried to bury a terribly sad event in her life.

She has enough sass, wit and psychological distance from Oxford, Mississippi, to poke fun at her university home town where “its smattering of BMWs and Mercedes that belonged to new people- those who had recently moved in from Memphis or Jackson or the Delta, in search of the town’s crime-free, arty, sports-possessed, boozy barbecued college-town life; where white people were enlightened but still in charge.”

The story begins with Mary Byrd alone in her kitchen, kids at school, husband at work, when she gets a telephone call that causes her to throw her everyday Corelle plate (she would never hurtle her good China into oblivion) across the room.  It’s not supposed to break.  It does.  Then she gets another similarly disturbing call from a detective from Richmond, Virginia, claiming to have opened a cold case murder that occurred about 30 years ago.  The murder victim was her own 8 year old step-brother, a brutal event that had profoundly wounded Mary Byrd and her family in spite of the fact that the ones still living are living, at least on the surface, rather successful lives.

After analyzing and almost rejecting the thought of opening those old wounds, Mary Byrd decides she will meet her mother and brother at the Richmond office. She knows the storm is coming and equips her family for power outages and her absence.  Some of the great fun in this book is her description of the household: her two children who are sacred in her life, her husband who drifts mostly in the background and the 4 legged pets whose names and pecking order add a sort of kitchen sink humor to the book.  There are the dogs, Puppy Sal and Quarter Pounder, and the cats, Mr. Yeti and Ignatius.  And there is her son William who reads mythology before going to bed. His mother asks him one night which character he would like to be if he were a Greek god. William answers Mercury, who has wings attached to his sandals, enabling him to fly away from anything painful or scary.  William, like her murdered brother, is just 8 years old.

Most people would take a plane or drive a car to get from Oxford to Richmond.  But Mary Byrd, riddled with a fear of flying even Erica Jong couldn’t imagine, arranges a spot on a large truck, eight feet off the ground, with a man named Crowfoot Slay, the VI, otherwise known as Foote.  Foote drives for Valentine Chickens and is a friend of a friend of Mary Byrd’s.  He “believed in white supremacy, the right to bear arms, and the superiority of black women.”  Our protagonist thinks a trip with Foote will help her keep her mind off her destination and the news there that could lead her into a profound desperation.

The trip to Richmond moves the story along as any journey would.  But the real thickening agent and readability of the book is the host of characters that surround Mary Byrd and further define her.  One such character not mentioned before is Jack Ernest- a wannabee writer living with his two elderly co-dependent aunts. Jack lusts after Mary Byrd while supplying her with the occasional Xanax.  The more important journey though, for this reader is the internal journey Mary Byrd takes; the one of self-discovery and integration, where she confronts what has made her impulsive, fearful and edgy, the unbearable truth of things.

Mrs. Howorth has created a keen sense of place as Greg Iles has done in his books about Natchez.  She has looked clearly at the racial situation still brewing in the south just as Kathryn Stockett does in The Help.  Most of all though, she has shared an intimacy and vulnerability in Mary Byrd that is really a thinly veiled Lisa Howorth.  That is a great act of courage.  And the book works quite well without knowing that Ms. Howorth’s own young brother was murdered when they were children and that case was never solved.  This is a highly readable, entertaining, and provocative book by a new novelist and it works because of its raw honesty and integrity.

This is Lisa’s first novel.  She grew up in Washington, D.C., married Richard Howorth, former mayor of Oxford, where they settled down and grafted Square Books onto the Square, straight into the proud heart of Mississippi’s rich cultural history.  Her essays have appeared in Gun and Garden magazine.

Lucky Us by Amy Bloom. Random House. July 2014

“My father’s wife died. My mother said we should drive down to his place and see what might be in it for us,” opens Amy Bloom’s new novel, Lucky Us. Following her father’s death, Eva is left on the doorstep of her father’s other (and more prosperous) family. She is first nemesis and then sidekick to her half- sister Iris. This stinted coming-of-age plumbs the dysfunction of Eva and Iris’ codependent relationship in World War II America. As Iris pursues her acting career in Hollywood, Eva keeps the home fires burning, scrounging for money, and assisting Iris in all of her hair-brained schemes. Amy Bloom’s snapshot style is well- suited to her portrayal of two sisters, their cast of friends, and their failed attempts to do the right thing.

The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell.

David Mitchell’s The Bone Clocks is everything we expect from David Mitchell—a globetrotting epic that transcends time, characters alive both on and off the page, and a masterful blend of science fiction and literary fiction. Told in parts, The Bone Clock follows Holly Sykes from her teenage punk years to well into her old age. Over the course of six decades, the universe’s underlying order—or disorder—breach reality long enough for Holly to discover that she is embroiled in a labyrinthine mystery that has been unraveling since before her birth. The Bone Clocks is a welcome addition to Mitchell’s oevre.

I’m a dad, I have a dad, and I work in a bookstore. Thus, I’m a qualified expert on Father’s Day recommendations.

Book of Hours by Kevin Young

There probably aren’t a lot of poetry books on lists like this, but hear me out. Young’s latest book consists of poems that mourn the death of his father in a hunting accident and lay them over poems about the birth of his first child. While these two things happened in the span of ten years, Young’s poems show the emotional connections between losing a father and becoming a father. And don’t let the poetry intimidate you: Young’s verses are easily accessible without being childlike. Perfect for dads who: are contemplative thinkers and enjoy quiet.

Bourbon: An American Spirit by Dane Hucklebridge

This isn’t a drunken memoir chronicling the author’s history of bourbon: rather, it’s literally a history of America’s (and my) favorite spirit. Hucklebridge gives an easy to read yet informative romp through the birth of bourbon, starting with a compressed history of distillation in Europe, then following it over the Atlantic to America, where corn (a new crop to Europeans) yielded not only nutrition but cocktails. Hucklebridge’s prose is anything but dry as it gives life to individual characters and the general culture(s) in which bourbon came of age. Pair this book with a bottle Bulliet (or whatever dad drinks) and you’ve got a winner. Perfect for dads who: like quirky trivia, enjoy bourbon, enjoy American history, or enjoy bourbon (that’s worth mentioning twice).

Tilted World by Tom Franklin and Beth Ann Fenelley

This novel, set during the 1927 flood of the Mississippi River, follows the stories of a bootlegging husband and wife, a pair of Federal revenue agents, and a just-orphaned newborn. Franklin and Fenelley’s story is well-paced with lively, endearing characters and a fantastically researched historical setting. I don’t want to give too much of the plot away here, but trust me: this is a fun book. Perfect for dads who: like history (particularly Mississippi history), like telling stories, or like listening to them.

Read my second book this year.

Ok, ok, so I’ve read more than two books this year, but according to Goodreads, I am way behind schedule. That’s right. I have a book schedule, and if you’re anything like us Lemurians, you may also have a book schedule of your own hovering over your head pouring guilt all over you the way your mom does when you tell her that no, you still haven’t gotten renter’s insurance, and yes, this is a new tattoo.

The culprit is Goodreads, that once pure site full of book reviews, to-read lists, and awesome recommendations that is now a another conquest of those brilliant bastards over at Amazon.com.  The reason Goodreads is making me guilty is because at the beginning of the year you can challenge yourself to read any amount of books that you want. This year, I decided to go easy on myself- 75 books should be a breeze, right? I mean come on people, I sell books for a living.

Turns out, the Goodreads challenge is a really good way to constantly remind myself that I’m not reading as much as I should be.  I’m torn: is it making me keep up with those books that I constantly tell people are “on my list” or is it just homework?  To help myself figure it out I’ve decided to compile a short list of my year to date in books.

1. Maus by Art Spiegelman. Loved it. Loved it even more when I realized that the story was completely autobiographical. I mean it when I say that if you only ever read one graphic novel, please read this one.

2. Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson. I loved this book, and the other two in the trilogy, too. And I usually hate young adult novels. And trilogies. Read it. Come on, read it. No really, do it.

3. Batman: The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller. This may have been the book that explained to me just how literary a graphic novel could be. I mean yikes. You think existential crises are only the bread and butter of bespectacled Brooklyn coffee shop writers? You, my friend would be wrong. But don’t think that this is too high brow for you, because Batman isn’t too high brow for anyone, son.

4. Notes to Boys by Pamela Ribon. Imagine if you had physical records of almost all of the stupid things that did and thought because of your crushes from Jr. High. That would be HORRIBLE. Well, Pamela Ribon did just that. Somehow, she meticulously journaled and made copies of all of the notes that she wrote to boys, and it is as awful and embarrassing as you think should be. She also often also interjects in the entries as her present self, mocking how dramatic and silly she was. God bless that woman for being willing to publish this book, because it made me laugh so hard that I almost wet my pants.

5. Thickety by J.A. White. This is the best middle grade novel that I’ve read this year. Reminiscent to The Witch of Blackbird pond, it deals with blind hatred and zeros in on how scary an uninformed mass of people can be. Part coming of age story, part fairy tale (complete with a forbidden forest) this book gave me the heebie jeebies with its dark undertones and suspenseful feel. (no seriously, I got out of bed to make myself tea at a few parts to calm my nerves) This is an older middle grade book, so don’t give it to your eight year old. But you should read it. Even if you’re a grown up.

6. The Enchanted by Rene Denfeld. This book killed me. It’s been a while since I’ve read a work of fiction that made me feel this much, and I have to say, although it was an exhausting experience it was totally worth it. Simply put, this is a book about a death row inmate and a death row investigator who have tender, unexpected views on life. Poetic and surprising, it made me feel all the feels.

7. The Weirdness by Jeremy Bushnell. Andre and I picked up this book at the same time and we both fell in love with, well, it’s weirdness. (Check out Andre’s blog about it here) What can I say about a book where the devil comes a’calling and tells you the the world is about to be destroyed by a waving lucky cat? <- That. That’s all I should have to say.

I mean, is anyone surprised that it was a cat taking over the world?

8. Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh. Hyperbole and a Half started as a simple yet hilarious blog about Brosh’s life, and if you read some of the blog, I won’t have to explain to you why this book is amazing. So go read it.

9. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. Apparently it is totally uncool to have your characters make decent life decisions. This is how I felt about Gone Girl:

I’m not going to include a 10th book on this list because I’m tired of writing this blog, but trust me I’ve read more than 9 books this year. And I’ve read some I really didn’t like, but why would I blog about that? If you want my loud mouthed opinion on any of the other stuff I’ve been reading, come to the bookstore and ask me, and I will gladly wax poetic about my favorites. Now I’m off to console myself about the fact that I only have to read 900 more books before the year is over.

I recently finished The News: A User’s Manual by Alain de Botton and it was, in a word, underwhelming.  I started this book with high expectations and maybe that’s where I went wrong, but for a book aiming to be a guide to how we should consume our news moving forward, the author stumbled with most of his assumptions providing anecdotal evidence that I can only describe as “writing from the hip.”  Obviously, I realize that a great deal of time and research was put into this book but I finished the book realizing that the intended audience are probably people that probably don’t question the relevance of how news is presented anyway.

Before I get into that, let me tell you what I liked about the book because I’m not trying to come across as cynical or dissatisfied.  In actuality, I quite enjoyed the first half of The News.  The book is broken up into sections of different types of news.  Politics and Celebrity are my favorites.  They are extremely fleshed out, and he provides historical intricacies that resonated with me.  For example, he uses the ancient city of Athens as an example of how celebrity worship can be accomplished in constructive and even self preserving ways.  Admiration can teach us all things about ourselves and eventually highlight the subtle tendencies and talents that would otherwise be left dormant or neglected because of the daily grind of life.  The book’s section on Photography is absolutely stunning and worth reading alone.  As a proponent of visual arts and media (what does that even mean?) photojournalism has lost a certain luster in traditional news media and Alain de Botton expresses that loss beautifully with the use of photographs.  The proof is, how you say, in the desert?

***THIS JUST IN***

Ken Murphy and Lemuria accomplish something very similar with Jackson Photographs by Ken Murphy, due out this July.  The book captures the spirit and culture of Jackson as it is.  It speaks to the reader/observer through images that resonate the quiet beauty of a city that people have intentionally failed to notice.  Ken Murphy guides the eyes of the reader to the majesty of our city unlike any photographer has been able to achieve in quite some time.

***WE NOW RETURN TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM***

Anyway, somewhere towards the second part of the book the sections get more and more pithy.  The pieces on Disaster and Consumption are as brief as the news articles he criticizes.  It’s at this point that the book feels like someone started playing the “wrap it up music” behind de Botton’s head as he furiously tried to type out a few more sections to finish the book.

My biggest problem  comes from the section Personalization.  He offers that when users are afforded the ability the personalize their own news (i.e., news channels like Google News and Reddit) a danger lies in shutting out news that could be missed or filtered by the user’s own personal standards.  He goes on to offer that the only way to be sure that this doesn’t happen is for the user to approach these channels with a firm understanding of their own self and direction.  This is laughably obvious to…umm…well me.

And that’s when I realized…maybe this book isn’t for me.  Everything he wrote seems to be intended for proponents of the old system of news.  Buying a newspaper, or watching the evening news followed by your local equivalent, ya know, that sort of thing.  I grew up with access to the internet.  I grew up with the ability to instantly search a subject and call someone out on the supposed truths they were spouting.  I grew up with the sneaky suspicion that everyone was lying to me all the time.  (Not really, I got a little carried away there.)  I grew up in the generation of fact checkers.  If I read an article that sounds sensationalized or off, all I have to do is scroll down and check the comments to see how factual or relevant the story really is.  I grew up communicating with the stories, instead of consuming them.  My opinions about subjects are constantly warping with new information and new texts, and the more and more I talk to people from around the world, the more I realize I have no idea what is ever really going on.  The real key is finding out how a story of a starving Malaysian boy’s journey to starting PayPal (totally a real story but don’t fact check me) can impact my life in a meaningful way.

This book is a guide, but it is also question.   How should we consume our stories?  Some of us have a pretty good idea.  I believe in participation and this books serves to invite you to figure out what you believe.

I’m giving this book a 7.5/10.

:Closing Thoughts:

Excerpts from this book should really be used as text material for 9th and 10th graders.  I think it would benefit younger readers to have a better understanding of what news media is capable of, and the healthy ways to consume said media.  So, if you’re a high school English/economics teacher, give it a read.

The first thing I read when I started working here was a copy of Natchez Burning by Greg Iles. I think I had the same initial reaction as most bibliophiles would: “wait, we get free books?!” After that excitement wore off, I realized that I was already a hundred pages into the book and felt completely hooked.  It’s the first new installment in the Penn Cage series in five years, and over the next two years we will be treated with two more continuations from author Greg Iles.

No, not THAT Penn Cage.

Penn Cage, the novel’s focal character, is the mayor of Natchez (and boy do mayors seem to have a lot of free time these days) who learns that his moral compass may by trained to follow the wrong person.  Imagine what Nicholas Cage’s character must have been thinking during the movie Face/Off: the struggle between trying to save his family and trying to follow that grey mist of a concept some people call ethics. How far can you bend before you break your own rules? What happens when the person who gave you those rules has bent them pretty far himself?

But, (thankfully) this book cannot simply be summed up in one sloppy Nicholas Cage movie metaphor— It will take quite a few.  Con Air for example, now that is a Cage we can all hope to fulfill this role.  He fights for those who cannot defend themselves.  He gets in bed with a ruthless killer because it is the only way to save someone. Oh, and let’s not forget that silky, smooth, southern drawl that, I must admit, I imagined while reading a few lines in the book. But no, our Penn Cage is not so much a brawler as he is a schemer.   How about National Treasure Cage then? He is definitely well-educated— a thinking man’s hero who is more able to use his trivia knowledge and clever friends to save the day before he would win a fist fight on top of a fire truck.  He quickly uses what little information he has to decide on a plan of attack, trying to always hit where no one would think to look.  Always trying his hardest to follow the law, but unable to do so.  No, it’s close, but P. Cage doesn’t seem so bookish.

Gone in Sixty Seconds has the action, the tempo, and the reassurance of a man in control in spite of living his worst nightmare.  Only at the very edge do we see the nerves start to fray and the mind lose the sharpness that got him into that seat as mayor or legendary car thief.  But of course the bleak, lawless history of Memphis Raines (are you still with me after all these movie references?) disqualifies him.

Who then? It’s got to be The Rock where the two Cages finally overlap.  The world is turned upside down for our heroes and everyone else is a lot slower to catch on.  Stanley Goodspeed is extremely good at what he does and, despite dealing with some very dangerous elements (chemical weapons for N. Cage and criminal law for P. Cage), he is relatively protected from danger.  Soon, however, you immediately feel the loss of confidence as both characters are thrown out of their element and into the deep end of the pool.  Both Cages quickly realize their situations must be handled in a vacuum.  Survival first, reelection is still a few years away—they can play the old solving-a-hate-crime card later to win back votes.  Stanley, like Penn, finally realizes the only way to survive is to get down into the mud with the enemy and hope he still has a shred of morality left after they hose off the blood and the dirt.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, even more than writing an entire post about Nicholas Cage movie characters.  If that doesn’t sell you on it then I don’t know what would.

Get ready people! Greg Iles will be here THIS Tuesday at 1:00! Greg will be signing his new book Natchez Burning from 1:00 to 7:00 so that everyone will have plenty of time to meet him and get a book signed before they go home to devour the new adventure.

Oh, and one more thing. Do you like Greg Iles AND Broad Street? If you go down to Broad Street after you get your book signed and show them our social media flyer (you get one with every book you purchase!) you’ll get 10% off! Go Broad Street! Go Greg Iles! Happy Tuesday to all!

(Pssst, we made t-shirts for this signing, so make sure to pick one up before they are all out!)

We had the pleasure of getting to know Michael Garriga when he came by Lemuria last month to sign his new collection of stories, The Book of Duels. Jana Hoops, a reporter for the Clarion-Ledger, managed to snag Michael for an interview.

This interview was conducted for publication in The Clarion-Ledger newspaper in Jackson, Mississippi, as part of an ongoing series about Mississippi authors. A portion of this interview appeared in The Clarion-Ledger March 23, 2014. No portion of this article may be used without permission.

Mississippi native Michael Garriga – and most of his 100-plus first cousins – grew up on the state’s eclectic and temperamental Gulf Coast. An enormous, raucous bunch, the family is still making its mark along the state’s southern tip. Today he and his family live near Cleveland, Ohio, where he teaches creative writing in the English department at Baldwin Wallace University near Cleveland, Ohio.

What people (teachers, other writers, etc.) or experiences influenced you to become a writer?

When I attended Ole Miss, I had the fortune of living next door to Barry Hannah, a tall-teller like my own folks. I didn’t know who he was. He was sober at the time and I just thought he was a regular old maniac. Then I took his class and everything changed. He was crazy but also kind and considerate and empathetic and sweet. I was starving and he’d feed me apples from his back yard and tell me wild stories of his youth. He told me don’t strive to be adequate or normal, be humble but not a bootlicker. He gave me inspiration and the drive and courage to sit in front of that blank screen, non-cowardly, look it head on, and talk to it. When I heard he died, I wept like a widow for a week. He was my second dad. In fact, when my dad met him, my dad called him “professor” and Barry, without a flinch, called him “doctor”—my dad who didn’t finish junior high—and so a relationship of respect was formed and sustained. Barry told me to not be scared, the same things my dad said to me. To work hard like Satan was on my back. To do things, any things: do, do, do. He taught me the word mattered and that to write was worth a grown man’s time.

I also adored Larry Brown, with whom I had many drinks. I’ve worked with Richard Bausch, Paul Griner, Mark Winegardner, Robert Olen Butler, Julianna Baggott, and many, many others.

Tell me about your life, professional and otherwise, now.

I have two beautiful baby boys, better than any two baby boys in America today, I guarantee, because my wife, Megan, is a gorgeous Kentucky woman. She teaches literacy to the college kids here in Berea, Ohio, and so too to our boys. They are strong and handsome. And she is too. I teach in Ohio at a really wonderful university—Baldwin Wallace University. My colleagues are sharp and sweet, my students able and kind, and the weather’s horrible. It’s a great private school, and I love it here. However, it’s way different than the South. I love teaching Southern Lit, because the students and I get into great debates about stereotypes, what they think of us, what we think of them, and what’s the truth. It ain’t easy, but it’s fun.

What is “The Book of Duels” all about? It’s a unique topic for a book!

“The Book of Duels” has 33 short stories, each comprised of three separate dramatic monologues given in the final seconds before an ultimate confrontation. Taken together they create a multi-perspective narrative. There are three perspectives because I learned in researching this book that, for a duel to be legal, you had to have a witness; hence, the third, different, point of view character was born. Plus, I love the idea of the triptych, the holy three. Examples of the duels in the book are a cockfight, Cain and Able, and then a joust, Don Quixote and the Windmill, and a bullfight – we were living in Spain at the time.

The book is described as “flash fiction.” Please explain what that means.

 I often use the term “flash fiction” to describe these works because of the layers of association: firing a pistol (as in most of the stories); a flash in the pan (referring to when a pistol misfires and also to those people quickly forgotten); flash forward and flash backward (two narrative strategies that engage the reader at the emotional level); the speed and brevity of these monologues; and the flash of an epiphany or a moment of yearning in the characters, like a flashbulb going off. That is, Flash Fiction, to me, connotes a moment when characters’ desire for self-knowledge and self-awareness dovetails with their epiphany of who they are. In one intense moment, who they are, at the deepest level, is revealed or made apparent to themselves or to the readers. I also use the word “flash” because these stories don’t fit nicely into any one genre. Are they dramatic monologues or short short stories? Are they poetry or fiction? They’ve been published as both. And they are truly hybrids.

How did you research “The Book of Duels?”

For each story I tried to embed myself in the historical situation, reading not only history books, but also books written at the time of the event to better gather the language. . . and to learn about the zeitgeist of the time and the slang—the foods, the politics, and the terrain of the place and time. . . . For a small moment in time, I was truly engaged with these people—their obsessions became mine. And, and I guess, in turn, I put mine on them.

Are there other writers whose influences we could find in this book?

I have read an awful lot of Faulkner. I don’t know if my work speaks to his except for my long-winded tendencies. The duels often contain a lot of playfulness and dark humor, which comes mainly through the poets I read: Jennifer L. Knox, Doug Cox, David Kirby, Maurice Manning, and Frank Giampietro, who edited many of these duels. I see the King James Bible in several of these stories, as well as Robert Olen Butler’s books of flash fiction. Barry Hannah’s work also had a profound influence on me: the illogical leaps, the playfulness, the drugs, the sex, and the general madness. The Drive-by Truckers created the book’s “soundtrack.” They’re among my favorite storytellers; they actively court the other Point of View. Their language skills are mind-blowing, the best puns ever. I use several of their lines as epigraphs.

Tell me about the illustration of the book.

These illustrations, which I love, came about because of an early editor, Ben Barnhardt. He solicited the book after having read a couple of published duels. He said he had a pal in Minneapolis—Tynan Kerr—who would be perfect for the book. TK liked the stories and started working on them. Man, he was fast: he had vision…and he has skill. His work is amazing. I saw the first four or five drawings, and Milkweed Editions began asking about the cover of my book, and I said, “Whatever Tynan sees.” And I was right. That cover is, to me, sexy. I love it. I thank Tynan…his vision and his skill and insight.

What are some other interests that you enjoy pursuing when you aren’t writing, helping your students learn to write, or reading what someone else has already written?

Seriously, keeping up with Megan and raising two boys—while teaching a full load and writing—is enough. That said, I like shooting skeet and drinking with men way older than me at VFW or DAV clubs, where men have things to share and not be scared to do so; it is more interesting than almost anything Shakespeare, who I love, could aspire to. I also enjoy cooking.

What will your next book project tackle – anything in mind at this point?

Yes, I’ve written a manuscript entitled “Loosh.” It’s a Southern Noir, concerning the Biloxi beach wade-ins of 1959 (staged to integrate the Mississippi Gulf Coast beaches). I’ve imagined the forces behind it on both sides and it should be ready for an agent in the next month.

Since you are a creative writing instructor, what are some suggestions you’d give would-be writers to embrace and/or avoid?

Seriously, don’t condescend to your readers: Treat them as if they are 10 years older than you, at least as well educated if not better, better read than you, and not nearly as much of a prude. Don’t talk down. Talk up. They expect as much out of art, and you should demand it, too.

By Jana Hoops

As a resident awesome person at Lemuria, you may have noticed my absence. Or maybe (probably) you haven’t. Whatever the case may be, I have not been fired or expelled from this earth. I have been at ARMY, specifically, Barksdale Air Force Base in Shreveport Louisiana. For the past six weeks, I have been working my way through days and days of classroom and flight line learning in pursuit of becoming more versed and comfortable in my job. I have learned one thing above all else: All the walls are brown.
A military installation is a void of creativity. All the streets are clean. All the people smile. All the cars stop for pedestrians. All the grocery carts are returned, and seriously all the walls are brown.

FLASHBACK

It (t)was the summer of 2007 and I was waist deep in mud, and self-delusion. I was going to be an American Airman, and I was going to save lives. Two weeks into basic training, after the uniform, mess hall, and haircut became intertwined with my being, I noticed something off about everything. I was being yelled at like I’m sure you’ve seen in the movies, but everyone was dialing it in. It was their job to yell at me and tell me I was worthless, etc. There was something behind all that repetition and monotony and I knew they felt what I felt. Boredom.

END FLASHBACK

There I was again bored, but it was different from basic training. I was bored because I was choosing to be bored. I was reading about hyper realistic self-aware characters that were just as bored as I was. Ask yourself how many bad decisions have you made to end up wherever it is you are. I was in Shreveport Louisiana surrounded by buildings that made everything look like someone placed the Early Bird Instagram filter over my eyes. I needed something strange and daring: something not afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings. I needed something weird. (see what I did there?)

The Weirdness by Jeremy Bushnell is pretty weird. I know that sounds redundant and just plain unhelpful but honestly that’s the best way I can describe the book. Yes, it is smart and funny and expertly paced but it is weird. The book follows an aspiring writer and actual sandwich maker, Billy Ridgeway. He’s your typical Brooklyn, NY artistic dweller chalked full of potential (he thinks) waiting on his chance to prove everyone (actually everyone) wrong. After one of his worst days in recent memory, he wakes up to a very well dressed, well-spoken gentlemen in his living room. What this man offers him is a chance. Now, if any of you haven’t seen the EXCELLENT Ghost Rider starring Nicholas Cage go and do that now, because this book is basically the sequel. Go do that now and come back.

Okay so you know not to make deals with the devil now right? Well ole Billy boy didn’t. What follows is a story written for people like me. People that are just bored with the “To be expected.” Billy is a character that surprises, not because he’s a hero or a fiction staple, but because he is legitimately his own person. A person that exists in a world rather than a character used as a device to further a plot or an **cough cough** agenda. This book is the classic pick me up. Jeremy Bushnell has woven together a great urban fantasy that kept me until the last page. This is an excellent first novel that deserves some eyes and attention.

The Weirdness by Jeremy Bushnell is available now