Join me for the In the Echo of this Ghost Town read along on Instagram! Up for grabs is an exclusive book box:
Signed hardcover copy: In the Echo of this Ghost Town
paperback copy: When the Echo Answers
Book Merch
Other fun goodies.
Join me for the In the Echo of this Ghost Town read along on Instagram! Up for grabs is an exclusive book box:
Signed hardcover copy: In the Echo of this Ghost Town
paperback copy: When the Echo Answers
Book Merch
Other fun goodies.
When I was 18 (this was in the early 1990’s), I was a small town girl living in a very conservative community where God, Family, and Country were the trifecta of life. Everyone had guns and used them for hunting season. It was commonplace to get married young—barely out of high school—to your high school sweetheart. All those beliefs perpetuated year after year. I say this to give you a frame of reference about my perspective at 18. I wanted to go to college, but I was the first one in my family to think about it. We didn’t have a lot of money or know-how about how to get there, but I did think: maybe there’s something else.
One thing I loved: reading.
We had one bookstore and a library. That’s where you could find me if I could find my way to either place.
As an adolescent, my favorite reads were romances. I started with the Sunfire Romances (long live the love triangle) and moved on to Sweet Valley High and Sweet Dreams books (oh the drama), and eventually I found my way to the adult romances reading Lavyrle Spencer and Judith McNaught (so that’s how sex works). I suspect that these readings shaped my belief system about my identity as it related to “romance” and relationships, though to be fair, I had an excellent model of a respectful relationship between my parents.
Like any adolescent, I was ready to test the waters of relationships, and that’s where things got skewed. My fundamentalist, church background—reinforced by my parents—insisted that I shouldn’t date until I was sixteen. When I did venture into the dating arena, I was given a “purity ring” to reinforce chastity (no sex until there was a “ring on it”, peeps) which also loaded on a heap of guilt when it came to experimentation. Finally, I had this “romanticized” version of what it meant to be in a relationship, and no clarity on what an unhealthy one looked like.
Fast forward to 2022.
I didn’t marry my high school sweetheart. I moved away from that small town. I did get to college by the skin of my teeth and graduated. I did marry my college sweetheart and have been a mother to two amazing kids. I got my masters, have worked with teens, and I still read.
Last year, I read the tiktok, booktok sensation Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover. It’s an entertaining book, and while I’m about to be critical of it; please know that this commentary isn’t a knock on the author or her ability to write a catchy book that draws a reader in. This is not that kind of criticism.
When I finished and set Ugly Love down, I walked away from it with my stomach in knots. At first I couldn’t figure out why. It’s about a young woman in her early twenties who’s starting over in a new place. She’s just gotten a job as a nurse and moves in with her brother as a stop-gap until she can find her own place. Living across the hall is her brother’s best friend. There’s a lot of sexual chemistry between them, and so they both consent to a relationship with “no strings.” Except, like most “sex-only” relationships, feelings happen. What ensues is a story highlighting an often unhealthy and manipulative relationship rooted in emotional bankruptcy and trauma. Like any romance read, it ends with the “happily-ever-after” but after reflecting on what had bothered me about it, I realized I had read a glorified version of “If I stick around, I can fix him”, and I felt so sad for 18-year-old me. Why? That girl would have taken the message to heart. I wouldn’t have been able to separate the “romanticized” ideals with reality, even knowing it was fiction.
Which then made me wonder: how many young women 18+ are reading books like Ugly Love (and believe me when I say there’s a lot of stories like this perpetuating a kind of “I can fix him” message) and taking to heart that message? Being set up to accept abusive behavior in a partner because it’s important to be “committed” or if she just “works harder”, then everything will turn out okay.
When I wrote The Stories Stars Tell, there was catharsis for me—the girl steeped in purity culture—to let go of those unhealthy messages about personal empowerment. I didn’t start the story knowing that was where it ended up. I didn’t start The Messy Truth About Love thinking that I would look at that unhealthy packaging of a relationship as “normal” and deconstruct it by reinforcing a healthy relationship. But that’s where it went.
And so that’s what I hope readers are able to take away from The Messy Truth About Love. Sometimes we don’t know we're in an unhealthy situation until we’re able to step out of it and look back as we walk away. And maybe, just maybe, The Messy Truth About Love will be the story someone needs to see their own situation or prevent one. I can hope.
This isn’t a blog to explore the how, the what, the what-to-do with respect to gaslighting. Remember I’m not a psychologist or a therapist, just an author who’s done a bit of research for their book (Here’s a link to a resource written by someone more in-the-know than I am). The purpose of this blog is to consider gaslighting in terms of the “everyday” relationship. Ultimately, this sinister form of manipulation culminates when the victim questions their sanity, but that’s not how gaslighting begins.
Relationships are tricky creatures from the get-go. Typically two people with distinct personalities are working to come together and maintain a bond. This is difficult for two people with completely healthy approaches to relationships and communication. Add complicating factors like mental health issues, trauma and/or abuse, addictions, different perspectives, varied life experiences, so on and so forth, and the playing field went from being rolling hills to the Rocky Mountains.
Gaslighting, then, is one of those insidious tools used between partners to manipulate the other’s emotions. Like the love bomb, it isn’t necessarily something that is easily identifiable, especially when trust has been established in a relationship and if you aren’t sure what to look for. Here’s an example of how gaslighting might look in a typical relationship:
Let’s pretend you’ve had the feeling that your partner isn’t being completely honest with you about what they’ve been doing. Your spidey-senses are tingling, so you decide it's time to ask about some things you’ve noticed, at least to calm your insecurities. When you ask your partner about the late nights and the strange hushed phone call from the other night, your partner twists your questions back on you as if what you’ve made are accusations, and suddenly you’re being accused of being a liar. That perhaps you’re “making up '' mysterious phone calls and accusing your partner of being late because you’re doing something wrong while they’re away. Your partner might say, “Guilty people make accusations about what they’re doing wrong to deflect, afterall.” Your partner’s guilt trip about your lack of trust and oversensitivity throws you off since that’s not what your intentions were. Right? Maybe your partner is right. You struggle to recalibrate your thoughts, because what started as just a conversation to “clear the air” has you defending yourself, doubting your intentions and your feelings, along with doubting your instincts.
The thing is, even normal, everyday, regular people can deploy a “gaslight”. This isn’t only a tool of the shady or the narcissist or the sociopath. It is a learned tool—a form of avoidance and deflection—which makes it important to be able to identify one and call the behavior out immediately. In The Messy Truth About Love, Hannah’s ex-boyfriend used this technique, calling her “over-sensitive” and “dramatic”. The awful thing about persistent gaslighting even in a “typical” relationship is the ugly way it preys on beliefs about self, feeding on insecurities and forcing those wounds to grow and fester.
If your partner uses this tool, it's important to call it out for what it is. You might need help with this, so find help! And if your situation is abusive, seek help immediately.
One more day until The Trials of Imogene Sol publishes. I can’t believe it’s almost here!
In celebration, I wanted to share with you some artwork I had commissioned and share a little bit about Imogene’s network of support.
The star of the show:
Imogene Sol has worked hard to be a top-10 cadet at The Ring Academy on Serta. When the Final Trials begin—tests to determine her job placement—she’s ready. Her hope to shed her infamous name—a name synonymous with her traitor parents—rides on her performance. When a mysterious saboteur interferes with her Trials, Imogene must uncover who’s behind the treachery but who can she trust? The stakes aren’t just for her future anymore but her life.
Here’s who she turns to for help:
Imogene and Vempur are best friends—as close as siblings. They’ve been their for one another since they both started at the Ring Academy in Year One.
Jenna became a friend to Imogene and Vempur when she started at the Academy in Year Three.
Tsua (pronounced: Zū uh) became friends with Imogene, Vempur, and Jenna when he was admitted to the Academy during Year Three.
Imogene’s newest ally—and the object of a crush she absolutely doesn’t want to acknowledge—is the academy Legacy student, Timeaus Kade:
I had so much fun writing these characters. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.
Tropes—a device utilized in stories—are potentially powerful tools because like cliches, they exist in a truth we as readers are able to relate to. One powerful trope is the found family (also called the family of choice). Defined “[this] trope refers to a device in literature [...] where a group of characters find themselves united in a family-bond based on shared experiences, mutual understanding, and interpersonal connection,” (www.nypl.org). Of the tropes that occur in The Ring Academy: The Trials of Imogene Sol, the found family is one of my favorites.
So, I thought it would be fun to share with you some popular books that utilize this trope:
https://www.epicreads.com/blog/found-family-trope/
https://www.shereadsromancebooks.com/found-family-trope/
https://bookriot.com/found-family-fantasy-books/
If you’ve got a favorite book with this trope, I’d love to hear about it!
Source:
https://www.nypl.org/blog/2020/12/09/found-family-literature-celebrates-families-choice
I made mention of sci fi and dystopian in an earlier post (click here for that), but I’m circling back specifically considering the space opera. As a definition, space opera as a category is a story set in outer space that is typically simplistic in nature and dramatic. The most famous space opera: Star Wars. Nebulous futures, scientific explanations about flying through space, the end of the human race, robots, artificial intelligence, heroes who need to save the day. You get it, right? And with my focus on The Ring Academy: The Trials of Imogene Sol—which is most definitely a space opera—and its impending release, my mind is a bit preoccupied in this category.
So look…a lot of the same lessons I’ve mentioned from earlier posts apply here, but rather than be repetitive, here are three new ideas to twist the lesson which can be applied to any category of writing.
Read any info heavy science fiction novel (ah hem… Dune…) and you’ll understand that just like a fantasy story, it’s easy to get caught up in the minutiae of the information that defines the story. The problem, of course, is information dumping and information overload (which I’ll cover in a moment). This turns off most readers. What great writers in the category do well is parcel out information that is relevant to the necessary questions. Of course a reader has questions about the world, but not all the questions are necessary to the story. Not all of them fill in the gaps of the plot hole. While the author has a lot of the questions answered, that doesn’t mean the story needs all of them answered. The trick is identifying which ones need to be answered for the sake of the story.
One of my favorite dystopian writers is Paolo Bacigalupi (Ship Breaker, The Drowned Cities, and Tool of War). The cool thing that Bacigalupi does that I’ve seen some of my favorite fantasy writer’s employ is drop the reader right into the world and unfold the world around them as if the reader is already a member of the society. I LOVE this technique. A perfect literal example of this technique is The Maze Runner by James Dasher. The reader is Thomas dropped into the maze having to learn on the fly what’s what and how he fits in. The pros of this is that you avoid the pitfall of the info dump, and like the character, the reader uncovers the world and the conflict as they go.
There is inherent danger in losing the reader when an author embarks on information overload. I get the temptation to include all the cool things developed in world building, but just because it exists, doesn’t mean it’s relevant to the narrative arc. Well-written books in this category recognize this and employ an “as needed” methodology by understanding which questions need to be answered.
Which leads to the next point…
Space opera (which encompasses Sci Fi/Dystopian) writers build worlds like fantasy writers, but then they destroy them. There is a methodology to this madness of course, even if they make it look effortless. But then consider that a wonderful fantasy story’s world is important to overall conflict from political machinations to traditions and systems impeding a hero’s journey. In Sci Fi/Dystopian the structure of the world and its demise is often the narrative architecture around which the conflict is built.
It’s clear when we enter habitat with Mark Watney in The Martian by Andy Weir, the structure of not only the immediate place is a functional place, but also that as a reader, the structure of the story is about survival. We are surviving with Mark, we are invested in his success, in the tension between learning he will connect with NASA. Or as we siphon through the missives of World War Z, the means by which author Max Brooks structured the novel makes it necessary to understand the hows and whys and what-fors in order to understand the movement of the narrative. The world, the creatures (think Alien) are so integral to the story, they can’t be removed or changed without impacting the overall narrative structure becoming a character in and of themselves.
Which then leads to:
It might be easy to develop a story in this category so high above a reader’s understanding that it becomes inaccessible. But strong writer’s of this category make sure that the average reader is as much an expert as the scientist character or the super computer. Isaac Asimov is a great example of this. A very talented scientist (physicist), he was a pioneer in the science fiction realm of writing, making science fiction accessible (check out his Foundation series).
And really, that’s what any category is about right? Making the narrative accessible to the reader so that they fall in love with the story.
When I was in my early twenties—an English major—I wanted to be a writer. I knew I wanted to be a writer before that even, when I would choose to sit at home and pen stories over going out with high school friends. Or when I would close my latest Judith McNaught reread and think: I want to do that. Even before then, when I wrote my first story at eight and read it out loud to my mom.
I read recently in a book by Deepak Chopra called The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success: A Practical Guide to the Fulfillment of Your Dreams (1994), the seventh law was the Law of Dharma or Your Life’s Purpose. To paraphrase Chopra (definitely check out the book if you’re interested), each of us is born with unique talents and a way of expressing it that is original to us. In conjunction with that talent is a set of personal needs matched up to that talent which can only be expressed by us. By fulfilling this need utilizing our talents, we will find fulfillment.
I understand this. My love and desire for writing and stories started early, and my proclivities and knack for it always leaned in that direction. That doesn’t mean, however, that at eight, or sixteen, or twenty-six, I was prepared to achieve the dream. There was work to do.
Case in point: One of the first novels I wrote (not the first. That one sits in a proverbial eDrawer collecting electronic dust), was The Letters She Left Behind, a romantic suspense that follows Adam and Alex on an adventure to catch a killer, all while given a second chance at love. I was around twenty-seven when I wrote it, a new wife of three years, a new mother. My main characters in this story, however, are in their late forties and dealing with things like grief, being widowed, and the empty nest. Needless to say, at twenty-seven, I was ill-equipped to write this story, severely lacking experience to give it justice.
While I think we may have a talent or a knack for something, that doesn’t mean it is’t necessary to build the skills necessary to do it. When I look at The Letters She Left Behind (which was rewritten in 2019 and published in January 2020) I can see how much I have grown as a writer since, how much experience I’ve gained. How much practice I’ve devoted to the craft. I love how footballer Cristiano Rinaldo tweeted once, “Talent is nothing without hard work.” I have had to work hard to develop those natural talents toward writing.
When I reread The Letters She Left Behind, sometimes I think I should rewrite it and re-release. Then I think that would be a disservice to who I was as a writer and all the ways I grown since. It’s good to look back over the bridge to see where I once was to appreciate where I am at now. And hopefully, I’m always working hard to grow.
So in honor of the anniversary of the publication of The Letters She Left Behind 3 years ago, here’s to working hard and growing.
Also, here’s some previous blogs I wrote about this book:
An important part of my process as a writer is reading. I’ve mentioned this before… repeatedly. Reading across genre and category on a continuum from amazing reads to mediocre to needs so much work is a powerful tool. This practice helps me with my own craft and style. It helps me see amazing author choices and technique, to varied narrative structures, to how not to approach writing. All powerful lessons.
Every once in a while I come across a book that blows me away. These books are the ones that linger long after I’ve closed the book. They make it hard to sleep because I’m thinking about the characters and the dilemma. They make me want to slow down and savor them, but I can’t help but burn through it page after page because I need to know what happens. These are the books whose authors have a way with words that somehow connects with my bones and takes up residence in my marrow. Language so powerful that it somehow changes my DNA.
I want to share these books with you, so here we go. The first one this year is All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir.
All My Rage sat on my shelf since its release in 2022. I preordered it. Got a signed copy. Tahir is one of my favorite authors, and I have made the claim that Ember in the Ashes series is one of the best YA fantasy works I have ever read. And still All My Rage sat on my TBR shelf and sat and sat. Why? I knew I was going to love it, and I didn’t want it to be over. So rather than read it, knowing it was there waiting for when I was ready was comforting. Do you know what I mean?
Well, I finally pulled it from the shelf as my first read of 2023. I was right. I knew what it would be, how I would feel reading it. All My Rage is magic (and an award winner. It deserves all the awards!).
The story follows Noor and Salahudin during their senior year in the small town of Juniper. While they are in a fight and avoiding one another, the failing health of Salahudinʻs mom brings them back together. As they navigate the complicated and painful landscape of their lives, they can count on one another to weather the awful storms each of them face. But when circumstances tear them apart, they find themselves clinging to a solitary life preserver. Will they be able to find their way back to one another?
Tahir has a way with words that burrows under your skin. Her ability to get right to the heart of a thought with succinct clarity is powerful. She creates characters that are flesh and bone, trapped inside the black and ivory pages, ready to leap fully formed into the world. The narrative is adeptly pieced together revealing truths both ugly and beautiful in a way that isn’t rooted in blame or pain but rather in the matter-of-fact humanness. It is what it is. And yet still offers us a slice of hope that we can navigate the uglier parts to find the beautiful.
All My Rage is a tapestry layered with themes of grief, addiction, anger, abuse, racism, and poverty. A tour de force, this is a story that conveys the truth. From being a teen, to being caught by one’s circumstances, to finding love, to giving and accepting forgiveness, Tahir’s All My Rage captures the beauty of the human spirit in all it’s flaws and all its beauty.
When I closed the book with tears in my eyes, I wanted to read it for the first time… again. I had experienced something great. A work of perfection that I needed to share. All My Rage is everything, and the very reason I am in love with stories, with reading, and with writing.
Tomorrow is my birthday. When I was little, I loved my birthday. My parents made it magical. Ask anyone, and one of the first things out of my mouth was the date of my birthday. My cousins loved to tease me because I always said it backwards (at least in the US). “When’s your birthday ,Cam?” they’d ask. “Seventeen November,” I’d answer. I still love my birthday, though as an adult, I don’t struggle to go to sleep the night before excited about presents. Truthfully, now I wouldn’t mind the clock slowing down because I realize how much quicker each birthday arrives.
Speaking of gifts, one of my favorite things to receive are books. So to celebrate, I thought I would share with you the books that have given me a book hangover. You know those books that when you close the cover after the final page, you sit in silence. And sometimes, it’s even hard to move forward, since you’re walking around in that story fog as it lingers. In no particular order, these are books I read that left me reeling in some way (needing a debrief) so that I had to pick up a book in a different genre to read something else.
So in no particular order:
Marcus Zusak’s Bridge of Clay (OMG! I love this book.)
Carlos Ruiz Zaffon’s Shadow of the Wind (Pure magic.)
Sabaa Tahir’s Ember in the Ashes quartet. (The last one is A Sky Beyond the Storm. But I reread the series. Read the whole thing again. Seriously.)
Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner (Dear God… ugly cried.)
Jennifer Niven’s Breathless (Closed the book and felt empowered. My life finally made sense. )
Jeff Zenter’s In a Wild Light (Every book by Jeff Zentner has given me a book hangover. He has this way of capturing character and then they worm their way into your heart.)
Fredrick Backman’s A Man Called Ove (They’re making a movie of this one. I loved it so much.)
TJ Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea (Amazing characters and humor? Can’t go wrong.)
Emily Henry’s Book Lovers (*sigh.)
Mary E Pearson’s Dance of Thieves Duology. (I think about this story all the time. Like I’ll just be washing dishes and think about Kazi and Jase and wonder about their story.)
Rebecca Roanhorse Black Sun (One of the best fantasy novels I’ve read.)
V.E. Schwab’s Darker Shade of Magic (I remember being in awe when I read this. I was just shocked at how perfect this was).
I could add to this list, but it’s what I’ve got for now. Let me know if any of yours are on this list. Or better yet tell me one that isn’t so I can add it to my ever growing TBR.
I was sitting in a high school classroom the other day listening to high school students chat with one another. They sat in clumps, computers open, phones out, some with masks and others without. Their conversations ranged from processing friendship drama to loud exuberance over a game they’d played the night before. Some begrudged the annoying dress code for an upcoming dance while others focused on an upcoming quiz in math. It made me think about my own experiences at that age and how important it felt to just be in the moment with one’s friends. How important it was to feel as if I had the opportunity to just be myself.
Only, through my teenage years I never had been. It wasn’t like I didn’t like myself. I did. I just remember being afraid that other people might not like me. I was an introvert in disguise as an extrovert, a chameleon shifting colors to adapt to my needs. All I really wanted to do was be at home writing or reading. I remember feeling like other people wouldn’t be able to relate. They were fun and energetic. They did fun things, went to parties, had significant others. They wore stylish clothes and did well in classes. In hindsight, I was those things too. I didn’t have a boyfriend, but I had friends. Teachers liked me. I worked hard and did well. I was fun and laughed and was very conscious about how I presented myself. Though high school was mostly positive for me, I wouldn’t want to return to high school. College was where I finally began to feel comfortable in my own skin.
I read in this book—The Tattoo by Chris McKinney—about how each person has three suns around which they revolve. Those suns are family, friends, and a significant other. The main character of the book—Kenji—expresses that if two of those suns function in your life, then all’s good, but if two of them fail, you’re screwed. The point being: you must find your tribe.
Some of my favorite stories include the found family trope. The Aurora Cycle by Jay Kristoff and Amie Kaufman; The Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, The Raven Cycle by Maggie Steifvater, Fable by Adrienne Young, The House on the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune. I love the idea of people finding their tribe. In the new story I’m working on, The Ring Academy: The Trials of Imogene Sol, Imogene’s found family is important as they help her clear her name of a horrible charge that could get her kicked out of the academy.
I’m not exactly sure what this blog is about—maybe just a thought dump, but clearly, I’m thinking about “the tribe.” If I could offer a young person any sort of advice it would be that: Find your tribe.