Review: Bloody Waters by Jason Franks

February 28, 2015 Amanda J Spedding 4 Comments

I’m a wee bit behind on my reviews as I read like a fiend through January… then life laughed and laughed and laughed at me (I also believe it gave me the finger) when I wanted to keep the pace through February. Sooo, without further ado…

*taps microphone* Check, one, two… One, two.

Welcome to the stage… Bloody Waters! *crowd goes wild as Clarice Marnier strides on stage with Motherfucker*

Bloody Waters is Jason Franks’ debut novel released through Possible Press, and a damn fine debut it is. This is the first of Franks’ work I’ve read, and as with any book, you go into it with excitement and a little trepidation: ‘please be good, please be good…’

Well it wasn’t good – it was fan-freakin’-tastic. Now before we go any further, I’d better put the requisite spoiler warning in…

SPOILER WARNING! THAT’S RIGHT. SPOILERS. LIKELY LOTS OF THEM. SPOILERS I MEAN. SO READ AHEAD AT YOUR OWN RISK, ‘CAUSE, YOU KNOW, SPOILERS.

The story begins with the a chat between an old bluesman and the devil at a crossroads (think Robert Johnson folklore) and the horny dude’s warning of ‘rock and roll badness’ on the horizon. The devil is worried, you see, and the bluesman tells him ‘rock and roll boys ain’t nothin’ to concern himself with.’ The devil agrees, ‘but this one’s a girl.’

It’s the … quirk in the supernatural I really found enjoyable. Satan? He’s a character who holds his own here, and the interactions between him, Clarice, and Clarice’s boyfriend, Johnny, were some of the highlights of the book for me. Kudos to Franks on the great dialogue. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Bloody Waters follows the life and times of guitar virtuoso, Clarice Marnier. There’s nothing Clarice wants more than to be a rock guitarist, and when Clarice sets her mind to something, nothing (and I mean nothing) will stand in her way. She’s focused, forthright, stubborn and proud – she’s a pretty kick-arse character who can actually kick your arse. And seriously, anyone who names one of their guitars ‘Motherfucker’ is alright by me.

You see, no one knows guitars like Clarice, and no plays guitar like Clarice. She has a single-mindedness that sometimes comes across as arrogant, but it didn’t take me long to realise that her no-nonsense attitude is what makes her… Clarice. Oh, and keep an eye out for her one-liners and terrifically and sometimes groan-worthy puns – they’ll put a smile on your face.

After being blacklisted by the music industry, Clarice seeks out band members to form ‘Bloody Waters’, a band she knows is the best out there, but no one will touch them. So Clarice, with the help of boyfriend and frontman, Johnny Chernow, make a deal with the devil for a second chance at taking the world by storm.

And storm the world they do. No band is bigger; no guitarist is better, and no one wants to bring them down more than the music industry that spurned her. Ensuing battles with demons, wraiths, witches and all other manner of supernatural nasties, then throw in some gangsters, other rock bands, crazy fans and you’ve got one hell of tale taking place on the pages. Most of the supernatural takes place toward the second-half of the book, but there’s no end to the magic that rips through the story.

While Clarice is the star of the book (and the band), frontman Johnny Chernow really does hold his own in this book, and holds his own against the force of nature that is Clarice. He’s also one of the most easy-going warlocks about – nothing much rattles his cage. Without Johnny, a lot of what Clarice can achieve on the supernatural level would be impossible, and while I would have liked to have seen some more…tenderness toward Johnny on Clarice’s part, the final revelation makes you understand why she is the way she is.

There’s a lot at play in the novel, but Franks’ works well to not only keep the reader hooked but also guessing as to what’s really going on. The interactions with the Devil always hint at some ulterior motive (no real surprise there, he’s the Devil, Father of Lies and Deceit), and he has an almost soft spot for Clarice, but always at the back of my mind was the crossroads talk with the bluesman at the beginning of the book.

But it’s the revelation at the end of the book I didn’t see coming, and one that was so brilliantly thought out and delivered, it had me reflecting on it for quite a long time afterward.

The only negative I found with my copy of the book was that it could have been edited and proofread with a more expert eye. There were more than a few typos and grammar issues that should not have slipped through. However, the standard of the story and the storytelling itself made this (almost) easy to overlook.

Franks takes the reader on a fast-paced ride filled with black-humour, bloody battles, and a look at ideology from an altogether different standpoint. His characters are well-fleshed out, engaging, and were perfectly suited to the parts they played. I flew through this book, so engaged was I with the story and the characters. I sat up ‘til 3am to finish it, and if that isn’t the sign of a good book, I don’t know what is.

On a Goodreads scale, I give it five stars. And no, the devil didn’t make me do it.

PS. Check out Jason’s comics/graphic novels — they’re well worth the look.

Art, Black Friday Wager, Life and stuff, Ramblings, Writing

Artful Conservation of the Imaginarium

February 16, 2015 Amanda J Spedding 1 Comment

Art, how I love thee! Like my collection of books, my collection of art is getting to a point where I’m running out of wall space. But I’ll not stop buying either, ‘cause that’s just crazy talk. Crazy talk!

The difference between my buying of books and my buying of art is that I don’t actively seek out art. It kinda finds me. In my previous post here, I mentioned that should I meet the deadline for the Black Friday Wager (the completion of the eleventy-first draft of my novel), I would win by not only having a completed novel-draft but get the bonus of some art as well. And it was a bet I won. That’s right – draft complete! That was the bet I had with the wonderfully-crazy Elizabeth Wayne.

It was Elizabeth who put me onto the artist from whom I get to choose two pieces. I already have two artworks (below) from Jeannie Lynn Paske’s ‘Obsolete World’ that sit perfectly on the walls of my hallway. There’s a melancholy about each piece that really struck a chord, and her use of colour, light and shadow reinforces the solemnity she creates in her work.

In Paske’s own words: ‘Obsolete World is a name that was originally taken from the 1961 Twilight Zone episode “The Obsolete Man” where in a future totalitarian state, Burgess Meredith’s character (a librarian) is a man put on trial for the crime of being obsolete. I had always loved that episode and I pictured a similar scenario in which the make-believe creatures of childhood suffer a similar “crime” as one grows old. I took to the task of conserving these victims of consequence, and created Obsolete World as a place where my own creations could safely while away the hours.’

As a writer, I live in make-believe worlds with make-believe creatures –creatures of my own creation. I breathe life into them; give them purpose and reason, lives and loves – both beautiful and terrible. I laugh with them, rage with them, bleed with them when I must. I’m connected to them in ways that might seem a tad odd to non-writerly folk, but a little piece of you goes into each creation.

Once the story is done, I leave them to their world, their lives (or their deaths) and move to the next creation. While they are never truly forgotten, do they venture into the realm of obsolete? Like the imaginary friends we have as children. Or the teddy bear that knew all our secrets and gave us unconditional succour. What happens to them? Where do they go?

There are those ‘creatures’ we can’t let go – we all have them. Mine is a teddy bear I’ve had since my second Christmas – Pink Teddy, her name is (cut me some slack; she’s pink and I was two when I named her). She hasn’t always been with me. I put her atop my cupboard when I was a teenager where she stayed for a long time; she didn’t come with me when I moved out of home, and she was soon consigned to memory…until my parents returned her to me when I was 35. I remember opening that shoebox at Christmas not at all expecting Pink Teddy to be inside. My parents had a bet: my father said I’d cry, my mother said I’d smell her. I cried as I put my nose to her tummy and breathed in deep. I’d reconnected with my past and all the memories that came with Pink Teddy’s return.

It’s this part of Paske’s work that resonates – the memories of what once was – and why there’ll be more of her art on my walls.

Ramblings, Reading, Writing

Horror and Writers and Interviews, oh my!

February 14, 2015 Amanda J Spedding 2 Comments

This February marks the 6^th annual ‘Women in Horror Month’. Started by Hannah Neurotica, WiHM aims to: [assist] female genre artists in gaining opportunities, exposure, and education through altruistic events, printed material, articles, interviews, and online support. The vision is a world wherein all individuals are equally given the opportunity to create, share, and exploit their concept of life, pain, and freedom of expression.

I have mixed feelings about WiHM, but I understand the need for its existence (this will be the subject of a post later in the month). I will always support authors – especially in my genre – and particularly female horror writers. Hell, I am one. Pay it forward and pay it back; karma will always be good to you.

I’ve received a lot of support from horror writers and readers, and I’ll be forever thankful for it. One of those who helped me enormously at the beginning of my writing career was the extraordinarily talented and supremely wonderful Kaaron Warren – one of the best horror writers about, no doubt.

I was lucky enough to be mentored by Kaaron, and what she taught me I will never be able to repay – her knowledge of storytelling and the industry was priceless. She was always there to look over my work (no matter how nervous I was) and answer any questions I had (no matter how ridiculous they may have been). I hope to one day help others as she did me.

Support comes in all forms, and I was the beneficiary of said support from the very talented Greg Chapman when he asked to interview me for WiHM. His questions were insightful and ones that deserved to be delved into. Not only that, I was interviewed along with Kaaron, which was like the icing on the cake for me.

The interview is here, and you’ll see that I’m far more ‘chatty’ than Kaaron – she really does know how to get to the heart of things succinctly! Our interview is part two of a series Greg’s doing. You’ll find part one here, where he interviews Marge Simon and Stephanie M. Wytovich – two very talented author/poets from the United States.

Greg asks us all which female horror authors we believe should be read, and if for nothing else, take a look at the lists the four of us offer – they’re wide-reaching and wide-reading.

So if you’ve never read horror written by a woman, or would like to read more horror written by women, check out Greg’s interviews.

Right then, time for me to get back to destroying a world of my own making. Horror writing really does rock!

Black Friday Wager, Novel, Ramblings, Writing

NOVELS AND ELEVENTY-FIRSTS

February 2, 2015 Amanda J Spedding 3 Comments

There’s a count-down calendar on this page. See it? Over there on your right… scroll down a little… a little more… Bingo! TWELVE DAYS TO GO! Ahem. ‘pologies. Didn’t mean to yell.

This is my second round at ‘The Black Friday Wager’ and my second attempt to finish the first draft of my novel. Well, to be completely honest it’s really more like draft eleven of the first draft of my first novel. ← That makes a weird kind of sense, trust me.

‘The Black Friday Wager’ is the brainhild of Elizabeth Wayne and Marty Young. Now, when I say ‘brainchild’ I mean a lovechild born from a sarcasm-riddled back and forth between the two on Facebook (it was a short pregnancy and a relatively pain-free labour – so not like actual births with the swearing and the pain and the blood… Hmm, now I think about it….)

The idea behind the BFW is a support network with incentives. We all have goals we’d like to achieve be it with writing, exercise or quitting the smokes… you get the idea. What the BFW allows those in the group to do is set a goal they’d like to achieve by the next Black Friday in the calendar year then another group member takes them up on said goal and a wager is set (decided upon by the two wagees).

I didn’t hit my goal last time ‘round, which cost me a bottle of scotch (happily delivered), but I’m very close to hitting my goal of finishing this eleventy-first draft of my novel. With twelve days to go, I just passed the 60,000-word mark, and I know I’m on the home stretch, which holds both relief and excitement.

Relief because this is the longest piece I’ve ever written, and there were times when I lost faith in myself as a writer and believed it was just something I could not do. I raged and swore, hated and kicked, and there were quiet moments of despair. Writing a novel is hard; writing a first draft of your first novel can be soul-destroying at times but here’s where the BFW group kick in. Beyond anything else they’re a support network, even those with whom you have a wager want you to succeed as much as you want to succeed. They’re your cheer squad, your sounding-boards, your oracles and your pickers-up when you’re down. I could not have come this far without them and I’ll be forever thankful.

And excitement because I can see where this novel is going; I know where the characters are going (not anywhere good, ohh no, not anywhere good at all), I know what they’re doing and what they hope to achieve despite all the crap I’m going to be throwing their way. And it’s a lot of crap. Apocalyptic worlds are never a fun place to be… for them. For me, I’m finally starting to enjoy myself, enjoy the process, and that’s something that’s been seriously lacking.

It’s been more stressful than I thought it would be, but that’s due to the unwarranted pressures I put on myself. I’m my own worst critic, and being an editor that tends to double the self-recriminations. It may not be right but it’s honest.

Is the draft good? Some of it, yes. But not all. Hell, some of it’s pure shite and I’ll admit that a lot of it will probably go in the rewrite, but it has created a greater focus for the story and a much better understanding of the characters and the world they inhabit. And that is all kinds of good.

So, with Friday the 13^th closing in fast, my wager with the ever-wonderful and crazy-smart Elizabeth Wayne looks like being a success. And I don’t mean just the success of having a completed draft with ‘End’ sitting at the bottom of the page, or the fact that I’ll receive two illustrations from one of my favourite artists – Jeannie Lynn Paske – but the success of understanding that I can write long pieces, that I can be kind to myself – I should – and that maybe the short-story form isn’t the only place I can lay my hat.

ELEVENTY-FIRST, IT’S TIME TO END YOU!