Category: Book Reviews

With a few exceptions, we all have at least one relative who loves to tell stories about their youth, whether we ask them to or not. We may be bored when we first hear their stories as children but we long to know them later in life. Besides, they make a great springboard for stories, poems, and essays. That’s one of the reasons why I created this week’s writing prompt and why I’m discussing a particular short novel. In fact, reading this book got me thinking about family stories and led to me setting such tales as the focus of the prompt. Today I’m talking about Driving Grandpa by John Redstand.

Driving Grandpa is a “fictionalized memoir,” as the Amazon description claims, of the last few months of Redstand’s grandfather’s life. A no-nonsense World War II veteran from the South, Redstand’s grandfather, Roy, leads an exciting life, even while in his 90s. He’s a hard worker and a man of honor, if not also stubborn, opinionated, and headstrong. With wit, a lively spring to his step, and an arsenal of war stories, Grandpa makes the most of every day right to the end of his life.

Redstand does not utilize a plot, not as we usually see in fiction, but that doesn’t mean the events depicted are random and unrelated. Much like the rest of us, Grandpa’s days feed into each other, and his war stories connect in one way or another. The driving force behind Driving Grandpa is not a desire to see how it ends, to see how some plot resolves, but for the joy of reading about Grandpa, his stories, and his dog, Old Gray, as he rides along with Redstand on his job cleaning foreclosed homes and switching out the locks.

Redstand pulled me in right from the first chapter, picking the perfect moment to introduce his grandfather: when he is driving to Grandpa’s house and finds the old man walking along an unfriendly (to pedestrians) road after thinking that Redstand’s uncles are trying to put him in a home. At first, I thought it was something straight out of a sitcom, but I’ll be darned if his ninety-something grandfather hadn’t just walked two miles from some senior’s apartments towards his home by himself. The rest of Grandpa’s days are just as hilarious and so unbelievable that you know it has to be true, or at least close to the truth.

My favorite aspect of the book, by far, are the voices of the narrator and Grandpa. They are genuinely, distinctly Southern; there’s no mistaking that. Both of them are also frank and blunt, although Redstand has a much better filter than Grandpa. I appreciate that Redstand doesn’t only state the facts of Grandpa’s last days but captures the essence of the characters and their relationship. It’s the same sort of Southern flare you’d expect to encounter with characters in a Flannery O’Connor story.

Driving Grandpa is an incredibly quick read. As the book clocks in at 133 pages and utilizes fast-paced, crisp writing, I could have easily finished it in a day if it weren’t for constant interruptions. That does not mean that Redstand’s work lacks depth. Instead, I became so engaged with Grandpa and his stories that I flew right through it.

To my great relief, I only found a couple minor proofreading errors. In fact, if I had not been on the look-out for problems, I might not have noticed any at all. The book has clearly been thoroughly edited and even the most professional books can contain errors after extensive proofreading, so these couple tiny errors do not detract from the reading whatsoever.

The one problem I have with Redstand’s Driving Grandpa is not the lack of plot, which I originally suspected I would have a problem with. Truth be told, I did not feel any deficiency in that area at all. Instead, my only real problem came at the very end of the book. The ending is rushed, but Redstand admits that and makes a very good point: it felt abrupt in real life and that’s how he portrayed it. I find, in that way, the ending fit Redstand’s writing style.

The last two lines, however, are cheesy. In a book about such a complex man, someone who is both likeable and flawed, to end with “God bless America. God bless the Greatest Generation” feels forced. Those last two lines, in my opinion, seem to be trying to force an agenda, something which I did not detect in the rest of the novel. I don’t have anything against the sentiment and, by all means, Redstand should include it if he wishes. Nevertheless, I think the ending would have resonated with me better if he had cut it off just before those two lines. Those two lines feel almost like Redstand doesn’t trust that the audience will get what they should out of his grandfather’s stories, and such perceived doubt on the part of the writer always bugs me.

Something else I wish Redstand had touched upon in the ending, although it doesn’t detract from the story as a whole, is Old Gray’s fate after Grandpa died. The poor dog had no one before Grandpa found him, where did he end up? Of course, it says a lot about Redstand’s writing that I came to care so much about the old dog (for full disclosure, I’m an animal lover anyway).

Overall, Driving Grandpa surprised me. I half-expected some sort of “my grandpa was a great veteran who could do no wrong” memoir but, right off the bat, Redstand shows that his grandfather was a great man but could definitely do wrong. The glimpses into Grandpa’s and Granny’s families had me on the edge of my seat laughing. I often had to stop reading to read one of the stories aloud to my mom, both because they were so funny and because they reminded me so much of the Southern half of my mom’s family (her mom’s side). If I do that, a writer is either doing something really wrong or really right; in this case, it has to be because Redstand did something really right.

To check out Driving Grandpa for yourself, follow this link to the Amazon page.

Know of a book I should read? Want me to review your work on this blog? E-mail me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or message me on Fiverr.

 

Trigger Warning: Dark Side of the World: Golden Silence by Lee Jerrard contains violence, disfigured persons, and references to rape, sexual abuse, and assault. If you are triggered by such matters or otherwise wish to avoid them, proceed with caution.

As most of my readers have surmised, I’m a big science fiction and fantasy fan. I’ve discussed the L. Ron Hubbard Writers and Illustrators of the Future Contest and brought your attention to the science fiction/fantasy publisher DAW Books. I’ve also introduced you to many new novels in these genres over the past few months, from The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. series to Sister of Echo: The Making of a Villain. Today I’m offering you another compelling science fiction novel, Dark Side of the World: Golden Silence by Lee Jerrard.

Imagine, if you would, a world of advanced technology such as flying cars, hand print-recognition door locks, and weapons of mass destruction. Beneath the utopian advances, however, runs a society which is just as corrupt as any other. The upper sections, from the apartments to floating taxis, are reserved for the rich and overall well-off. The bottom is left to the poor, the scoundrels, and the inbred. Some of the upper wander down into the lower, but it’s never for very long and not without a purpose. The government hires eliminators to dispose of the political opposition and other supposed-threats to the country’s way of life. In turn, underground organizations hire bounty hunters to kill the eliminators. Worst of all, the government controls the media and, by extent, the information leaked to the public, and so civilians only know what the government wants them to know.

This world may sound like an updated version of 1984, but it’s not nearly as large-scale as the countries of George Orwell’s dystopia. Instead, this world belongs to an island called Pervil, one built on the backs of the dregs of society which were then tossed aside as less-than-human. This island nation, while made unstable by disparities in social rank, has a bigger threat looming overhead: a terrorist intent on destroying Pervil’s current society and then, presumably, its neighboring ally nations, Tennesse and Crianca. That’s where our story begins.

Edward Sole is a broken man. An ex-marine, loving husband, and devoted father, Sole carries the weight of a dark secret in his heart. He’s an eliminator, recruited four years ago from the marines to dive into the worst parts of Pervil and kill his employer’s enemies. Everything he’s seen now haunts him, and even this once-disciplined and dedicated soldier can’t reconcile who he once was with who he has become. He wants nothing more than to be rid of his job and migrate his family to the “bright side” of the world, but he knows he can never leave this line of work alive.

That is, until his employer makes a deal with him: Sole will be free of his duties as an eliminator and given a new life with his family on the other side of the world if he completes one last job. The offer is too good to pass up, until he learns what the job is. Along with a team led by a retired marine major, Sole is to target and eliminate the terrorist leader Carlang Bodelle, his entire army, and the island which serves as his base of operations. Even with that caveat, Sole can’t pass it up; recent developments have put him and his family in danger, and he has to snatch any way out he can.

Despite his wife’s protests, Sole soon leaves with the rest of the team for Andolin, but he can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. It doesn’t help that his teammates, while mostly highly-qualified, are each broken in their own right and carry personal troubles which could take their focus away from the mission and endanger them all. Yet something else is weighing on Sole more. Who is Carlang Bodelle? Aside from his military record, Sole doesn’t know anything about him, nor does anyone else. Who was he before the military? What is he really after? And, most importantly, why is he even organizing these terrorist attacks?

These mysteries and more await readers in Lee Jerrard’s Golden Silence. Action, drama, and technological advances abound in this dystopian tale, and any fan of 1984 and stories about military action will be pleased with the premise.

At first, I wasn’t sure what sort of story to expect from Jerrard. The prologue pointed me more in the direction of natural disaster, whereas the first chapter more pointed to terrorism and political corruption. Eventually the connection started to piece together, and I’m certain that the tie will become even clearer as the series progresses. However, I found myself distracted for the first half of novel wondering exactly how the prologue fit the rest of the book; besides setting the scene, my brain was not wanting to connect the prologue with the rest of Jerrard’s writing. Regardless, this slight disconnect did not detract from my overall enjoyment of the novel.

As the story progressed, I became more and more engrossed in Jerrard’s world. The world building and plot are very compelling but they didn’t capture my attention nearly as much as the characters themselves. Sole’s backstory had my heart aching for the poor soul and I grew to understand why he’s falling to pieces. The tale of the romance between him and his wife, Connie, is very sweet and heartwarming, while also slightly heart-wrenching, and added a level to Sole that I don’t think readers would see without Connie.

Most of the main characters are likewise well-developed: Charlie Harris, the naïve media-made hero; Bomba, Sole’s friend from marine training whose job as an eliminator has hardened his view of the world; Lucas, the retired major with the ghosts of many men hanging over his shoulder; Ryce, the sarcastic jackass who prods at others’ pain so he won’t feel so bad about his own; Hawkins, the arrogant and technology-obsessed escort; and Dillian, the weapons expert who gives everyone the creeps with his masked temper and mystery.

However, much of the character development occurs through exposition. An entire chapter early on in this story is dedicated to Sole’s backstory. On the one hand, this chapter proves key to Sole’s development throughout the rest of the novel. On the other hand, I would have preferred the smoother, more dramatic effect of slowly unveiling his past through hints dropped as the book progressed. I can see the benefits of this technique and have seen it often in science fiction and fantasy, but I feel that it was still to on-the-nose at times in Jerrard’s writing. In fact, it sometimes slows the narrative down so that I started to lose focus during those passages. This technique is used less later in the book, allowing for the pacing to pick up in time for the meatier action and tension scenes, so the story in its entirety did not suffer from the exposition.

The moral dilemmas which the characters experience as they prepare for the mission helped me to invest interest in their ultimate fates. The struggles of characters like Sole and Harris expose their vulnerabilities and beliefs, giving readers something to latch onto in order to connect with them. The coldest of some of the more experienced and troubled characters, like Bomba and Dillian, increases the tension greatly. I spent a good portion of their on-screen appearances wondering who was going to burst and when.

The most important moral dilemma, which I cannot discuss in too many details to avoid spoilers, does not come to fruition until Sole finally encounters the mysterious devil Bodelle. Jerrard, in a classic dystopian twist, turns the tables on the eliminator and forces him to question everything he thought he knew. What is real? What is only a figment of his delusions? Is ignorance truly bliss, and does it matter who controls information? Jerrard raises these questions and more through this heart-racing exchange between our protagonist and the supposed villain. Given the state of politics today, I’d say that Jerrard is reigniting these debates none too soon.

I didn’t notice many proofreading errors in this book. There were some, such as missing periods and quotation marks, but those were never a distraction. I had some issues because Jerrard uses British spellings and phrases that I’m not used to, but it’s nothing that a Yankee can’t figure out.

All in all, Jerrard has composed a piece of classic dystopian science fiction, but with a twist. Approaching the dystopia from the point of view of a government employee—military personnel, no less—adds a new level of conflict and anticipation not found in a civilian’s perspective. The ending is quite the cliffhanger that has left me wanting to dive head-first into the next book. If nothing else, I want to know how Sole will finally reconcile his marine self, his eliminator self, and his conflicted self, if he does at all. What will become of the morally-conflicted hit man and his loved ones? I can’t wait to find out!

To read Jerrard’s Golden Silence, follow this link to Amazon.

Know of any books I should read? Want me to review your book on this blog? E-mail me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or message me on Fiverr.

 

Trigger Warning: Today’s book, Only Human (Act One): The Pooka’s Tales: Speak of the Devil by Leigh Holland contains brief moments of gore, violence, and sexual innuendo. The book also focuses on a view of Heaven, Hell, God, and the Devil which varies in many ways from mainstream Christian views. Although this work is fiction, proceed with caution if you take offense to or otherwise wish to avoid any of these matters.

As part of Banned Books Week, it seems appropriate that I review a book which, for some people, discusses a controversial subject: the concept of Heaven, Hell, God, and the Devil. Today’s book is fiction—fantasy, even—and deals with this very familiar concept in a different way than one normally envisions these Christian constructs. This book takes an approach to the role of the Devil in the cycle of eternal life and punishment reminiscent of Anne Rice’s Memnoch the Devil. You may even find yourself having sympathy for the Devil and his minions by the time you finish Only Human (Act One): The Pooka’s Tales: Speak of the Devil by Leigh Holland.

Framed by a device similar to 1001 Arabian Nights, Only Human begins with the rescue of a Twyleth Teg, also called a pooka, by an Irish Catholic priest, Father Patrick O’Donnell. The pooka, nicknamed “Rory” by Father O’Donnell, makes the mistake of telling the good priest that he owes the man for saving his life. What does Father O’Donnell ask for in return? Stories. Stories about the Devil, about demons, all the stories that Rory knows first-hand. Rory agrees, but with a twist: he’ll tell Father O’Donnell his stories in a way which won’t allow him to know which of the players Rory is.

That’s where the meat of Holland’s work begins. Rory the Pooka throws Father O’Donnell and the readers into a string of stories from five different characters’ perspectives: Heather, a witch who only wishes to be reunited with her husband after his premature death; Todd, Heather’s husband, who tries desperately to return to her when he wakes in a befuddling situation; Father Eustace, a priest with a dark secret; Magnus, a demon—i.e. one of the Devil’s workers—who hates how things operate in his world; and, to top off the list, the Devil himself, known more informally as “Luke.” At first, the stories of people like Heather, Todd, and Father Eustace appear unrelated. By the end of the book, Holland—through Rory—reveals them to be intricately intertwined in ways which not even the most observant reader will figure out until well over halfway through the novel.

Holland weaves a plot that’s both heart-warming and heart-wrenching and keeps readers on the edge of their seats until the very end. Yet when we return to Rory and Father O’Donnell, we are left with more questions than answers. Who is Rory in this story? Why is Father O’Donnell so obsessed with the question of whether the Devil regretted his fall from grace? What secret is Father O’Donnell hiding, and what exactly does Rory have brewing in that mischievous head of his? The story within the story appears to have ended, but Rory and Father O’Donnell’s has just begun.

Holland packs a lot into 137 pages, and her writing has me hooked. Quick, funny, but appropriately emotional, I flew this short book much faster than normal. The cliffhanger, while a little frustrating, was also a bit of a relief to me; I don’t want this world to end, not yet, and I can’t wait to see what else is hiding in the pooka’s head.

Not surprisingly, my favorite character turned out to be Luke, a.k.a. the Devil. He is pessimistic, stubborn, and sometimes pushy, bordering on a creepy stalker, but he is also a romantic with a distinct sense of right and wrong, a longing to do right by the good and innocent, and an underlying backstory which made my heart hurt for him. Unfortunately, Holland only hints at this backstory. Still, she gives enough for the readers to understand where Luke is coming from and, with any luck, more of his tragic background will be revealed in future books.

Holland also gives the other characters interesting backgrounds and reasons for doing what they do, which allows the readers to emotionally investment in them and their ultimate fates. Whether they’re innocent humans, witches, or even demons, it’s hard not to have sympathy—or at least empathy—for them and understand their motivations. Will readers approve of their actions? Not all of them, but they will understand them.

Admittedly, I grew a little confused when the stories transitioned from our world to Luke’s. It forced me to wonder: what’s real? What’s not? What actually happened, and whose truth should we believe? I had a hard time reconciling Luke’s world with the human world Holland depicts earlier—both in the stories and in the frame narrative—but I feel that effect is purposeful. After all, some of the themes in this book include the fine line between good and evil and the fact that nothing is what it seems. This confusion helps put the readers into Father O’Donnell’s shoes as he listens to the pooka’s tales, trying to work through the moral dilemma which he still hasn’t revealed.

If you’re looking for a happy ending, you probably won’t appreciate this book as much as I do. As in life, things get ugly and not everything wraps itself up in a neat little bow. The stories are being told by a pooka, and one which we don’t even know if it’s light or dark, at that; readers are lucky that the stories are as heart-warming as they are. Holland doesn’t deal her readers fluff pieces about good winning out over evil. She gives us compelling, action-packed, and emotional stories which tell us that nothing is black-and-white and, often times, life is bittersweet.

I didn’t find too many proofreading errors in this book. I located a couple but they’re minor, and many of what I saw as “errors” are probably a difference in writing style preferences more than actual proofreading errors. This book is actually one of the better-edited small-scale publications I’ve reviewed in a while, and I appreciate the effort put into that.

Overall, Only Human is an exciting and compelling tale of fantasy. I love Holland’s take on the Devil and Hell, and even her depiction of Heaven is one I’ve never really seen before. Some aspects are a little cheesy, like the name “Godfrey Goddard” for God. Others, however, are well-planned and amusing, such as the name “Mormo” for Luke’s closest servant. Holland liberally uses humor without, making some uneasy situations more palatable and helping the story go by even quicker. The cliffhanger has me wanting to get my hands on the next book immediately so that I can learn the secrets hiding within Rory the Pooka and Father Patrick O’Donnell, as well as watch their rickety friendship grow.

To read Leigh Holland’s Only Human (Act One), follow this link to Amazon, where you can either buy the book or borrow it on Kindle Unlimited. If you want more information on the book or the author, be sure to check out Leigh Holland’s blog and follow her on Twitter as @Leigh_Holland1.

Know of any books you think I should read? Want me to review your book on this blog? Contact me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or message me on Fiverr.

 

Warning: Evolution of FORCE by Sam B. Miller II contains violent scenes, some of which are also graphic and gruesome. There also suggestions of sex scenes and sexual innuendo. If you have a weak stomach or otherwise wish to avoid references to violence and sex, proceed with caution.

Spoiler Warning: This review covers the third and final book in The Origin of FORCE trilogy, Evolution of FORCE. If you have not read the first two books, be advised that this review contains spoilers for the entire trilogy.

TGIF, readers and writers! This week I’m shaking things up a bit by starting Friday Fun-Day with a book review rather than a writing prompt, quote, or contest. I’ve taken you through the series behind this particular review for a few weeks, and today I’m bringing you the third and final book of The Origin of FORCE trilogy, Evolution of FORCE by Sam B. Miller II.

When we last left FORCE and its allies, Yuri-Milost had betrayed Whatsit, Becky, Doug, Miguel, and Dr. GooYee, leaving them stranded on the war-torn surface of Chrysalis. Yuri-Milost escaped justice at the hands of the remaining FORCE team, but Whatsit and his shipmates struck some luck when the Chrysallaman Underground advisor Cherree rescued them from the Asiddian torture chamber.

Evolution of FORCE picks up where Dawn of Chrysalis left off, with Whatsit and company fleeing the Asiddians for the catacombs under Chrysalis and the rest of FORCE planning a rescue/revenge scheme back on Earth. While Whatsit, Becky, and Doug help the Chrysallaman Underground steal supplies and take on Asiddian commandos, Tom rounds up humans anxious to help their teammates and Chrysallamans longing to save their home planet. Heinbaum and Longarrow also busy themselves with technological leaps which not even McPherson knows about.

What unfolds over the following 300+ pages are action, deceit, leaps in technological and social advances, and an enemy which only the most discerning reader could foresee. Fans of gripping, traditional science fiction with a twist won’t want to miss the exciting wrap-up to this trilogy.

I can say that, by this book, Miller has pretty well worn down my hesitation towards alien invasion stories. As with the first two books, Miller has put a lot of research, attention to detail, and creative energy into Evolution of FORCE. Even with all the details about the new technology and alien societies, the book never loses sight of the plot and character development, which is both key to good science fiction and hard to accomplish. I admit that the names of many of the Asiddians are too on-the-nose considering they’re a bird-like species. I also could have done without backgrounds for characters who only appear long enough to die, but these issues are relatively minor.

The development of the inter-species relationships, particularly the Princess Peregrine/Miguel romance, and the entire range of budding romantic relationships add a personal dimension to the story. However, as in the first two books, my favorite dynamic is still between Heinbaum and McPherson. They are still the bickering, comedic duo we’ve grown to love—with GooYee now thrown in the mix—but Evolution of FORCE reinforces their emotional foundation. I rooted for all of the main characters to survive the battle, but I became most invested in Heinbaum and McPherson and desperately hoped for both to make it to the end.

While the mix of action and emotional strain enhanced the story, I found the pacing to often be uneven. Miller has a tendency to restate observations made in the previous books about returning characters, which causes excessive exposition and description that slow down the narrative. This problem is particularly prominent during the first few chapters. On the flip side, the final chapter feels far too rushed. I think that Miller could’ve spent a few more pages of description and action to draw out the tension as well as wrap up some elements without so much exposition in the characters’ dialogue.

These issues aside, the story becomes so engaging that the read is quicker than one would expect based on the length of the book. Multiple plot twists and new story elements kept me wondering what would happen next and how the trilogy would end, making it very hard to set the e-book aside until I finished reading. Sometimes the number of new elements confused and disoriented me, but that effect only fueled my desire to learn what happened next.

Unfortunately, there are many more proofreading errors in this book than the first two. I discovered many places where Miller uses a semicolon when he needs a comma, missing words and quotation marks, and other improper punctuation. Perhaps the most confusing and tedious for me is the inconsistency in the spelling of Princess Peregrine’s first name. Sometimes it spelled “Caroline” and other times “Carolyn”. The same inconsistency occurs in Dawn of Chrysalis but is more noticeable in Evolution of FORCE. These errors don’t detract from the overall quality of the book; they are just more prominent and, therefore, more distracting.

Overall, I think this book is a fitting end to a great trilogy. It ties up the loose ends quite nicely while still leaving room for Miller to return to this world. In fact, I’m counting on him deciding to expand FORCE’s operations and explore the reconstruction of human and Chrysallaman societies. I also hope that his note at the end, while promising stories that are different from this trilogy, indicates that Miller is not entirely through with Whatsit, Tom, and the rest of FORCE.

To read Evolution of FORCE and the other books in The Origin of FORCE trilogy, follow this link to Amazon. To follow the author on social media, check out @SamBMillerII on Twitter.

Know of any books I should read? Want your book reviewed on this blog? E-mail me thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or look me up on Fiverr.

 

Trigger Warning: Amelia Marie Whalen’s Everything You’ve Ever Done deals with mental illness and the unintended consequences of leaving mental issues unattended. One of the key players in the book also contemplates suicide. If you or someone you care about has suffered through such issues, proceed with caution.

Disclaimer: Spiritual views expressed in this book do not necessarily reflect the views of The Writer’s Scrap Bin, its author, or its readers. Remember to be respectful and civil in any discussion which may come from the review of Whalen’s book; trolling, bullying, and other abuse of this blog and/or its members will be result in disciplinary action against the individuals perpetuating it.

Sometimes fact is stranger than fiction—and richer, too. Today’s book proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that our lives can be as tumultuous, heart-wrenching, heart-warming, and adventurous as those we read about in novels and see in movies. We break hearts and have our hearts broken; we make plans only to have them fall apart; we suffer tragedy after tragedy; we overcome trauma and come out the other side stronger than ever. All the while, we remember to find joy in the little things and seek to receive and give unconditional love. The book I am exploring today covers these trials and gifts of life and much more. For this post, I am reviewing Everything You’ve Ever Done: A Memoir of Unconditional Love and Spiritual Discovery by Amelia Marie Whalen.

Amelia Whalen and Dave both struggled with rocky childhoods. Amelia came from a broken home built by teenaged parents who, though they loved Amelia, could not make things work together. Her mother died when she was a child, and her heartaches did not end there. Dave grew up in a family plagued by drugs and weakened by infidelity. By the time Amelia and Dave enter each other’s lives, they have constructed solid foundations from their troubles and found release in creative—sometimes even off-the-wall—activities, such as rock climbing (Amelia) and music (Dave). The relationship, while passionate as a result of their headstrong personalities, seems to be a match made in heaven. The unconditional love and dedication they have for each other, even with all their fights and obstacles, shines in every aspect of their lives as they go from dating to living together and, finally, marriage.

In their third year of marriage, everything changes. Dave changes, and Amelia isn’t the only one to notice. Friends and coworkers grow uncomfortable around him as Dave becomes more unpredictable, negative, forgetful, apathetic, and aloof. Dave is no longer Dave. He is now “New Dave” and, to borrow the author’s words, the “Big Trouble” has put a wedge between him and Amelia. The worst part—the part with which Amelia can’t reconcile or make sense of—is that Dave denies the change and passively and consistently refuses to address the issue.

While she still loves Dave and Dave loves her, Amelia must do what is best for her. But what could that be? Should she stick it out or start all over? With the help of rock climbing, music, close loved ones, and the universe, Amelia undergoes the self-reflection needed to understand what she has to do. Even then, Dave does not stay out of her life forever. He brings more stress into her life and, while she loves him deeply and is heartbroken without him, she knows that he will continue to hurt her, especially if he goes on refusing help.

Can they make it through these trials together? Will Dave get the help he needs? Can Amelia learn to be happy without him, or will they reunite? Most importantly, will their unconditional love be enough to pull them through their troubles?

Part memoir and part autobiography, Whalen’s Everything You’ve Ever Done has affected me emotionally about as much as Rich Marcello’s The Beauty of the Fall. The effect may be even stronger now, knowing that the story is real and that Amelia and Dave truly struggled through such hard times. It’s not a read for the faint of heart. Heartache, anxiety, desperation, and even suicidal thoughts fill this book to the brim with emotional turmoil.

The writing is clean, simple, and easy to grasp, but by no means is this book a quick read. Whalen crafts her story masterfully and beautifully, and it is this mastery which makes for a slower read than one would expect. I had to take several breaks throughout my reading in order to emotionally and mentally recuperate; I could feel her struggles so deeply that just reading about the ordeal drained me. I grew a connection to Amelia so strong that I could not help but to go on the same emotional roller coaster as she does in the narrative.

The structure, while mostly chronological, seamlessly slips in memories from before the current timeline of the book. These memories slowly reveal crucial details to Amelia’s background, Dave’s background, and the background of friends which leads to the realization of Dave’s condition. In a narrative already packed with emotional and spiritual turmoil, Whalen manages to make these revelations at intervals which do not further overwhelm the reader.

Everything You’ve Ever Done is about more than Dave’s downward spiral and Amelia’s pain while trying to help him. Amelia explores paths of healing and spiritual growth, from her many rock climbing adventures to her month of carefree abandon and homelessness to appointments with a social worker who helps her learn to take care of herself while she’s taking care of Dave. She works hard to become a stable, independent woman without her self-destructive husband. She forms new friendships, constructs a support network with existing friends, and rises to a new level of spiritual completion.

This book may resonate with me more than the average reader. I struggle with mental health issues and many of my loved ones do as well; for one close loved one, the issues reached a self-destructive level which harmed those around him and, while he’s doing better now, we still have to take things day by day. Much of what Amelia and Dave experience strike a nerve with me, and that connection made me even more eager to finish the book.

With that in mind, anyone who has their own mental health problems or try to help loved ones with such problems will really appreciate this book. For those struggling with mental illness, it helps to put into perspective the effects our choices have on those closest to us. We can grow empathy for our supporters by reading Whalen’s story, and Dave’s deterioration drives home the urgency to get help as soon as possible. For those having to watch their loved ones go through mental illness, a kindred spirit can be found in Amelia. It helps to know that you are not alone in your experiences or unjustified in feeling how you do; you may even find the spiritual guidance you need to navigate through these difficult times.

Everything You’ve Ever Done is not only for people with mental illness or who have loved ones with mental illness. Anyone having a hard time will find inspiration and strength in Whalen’s tale. It’s not a “how to” guide for handling your woes, like Murphy’s Remedy, but readers will take away a mixture of sadness and hope from Whalen’s narrative of unconditional love and faith in oblivion.

Overall, I found no faults with this book. The people seem well-represented, Whalen focuses on the key players of her life during this time, and she gives enough details without wandering into the tediously-unnecessary. I caught a few proofreading errors sprinkled throughout the text but, to be honest, only an overly-perfectionist English major would notice. I don’t recommend this book for those extremely-sensitive readers because of the emotional weight of the subject, but I feel that it is a wonderful read because of that weight.

To buy Everything You’ve Ever Done by Amelia Whalen, follow this link to the book’s Amazon page.

I want to take this time to leave a couple resources for mental health here. The first is a link to the National Institute of Mental Health website. The second is the link to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline website. I apologize for not having any resources outside of the United States; if you know of any, please feel free to share them in the comments below.

Know of any books you think I should read? Want your book review on this blog? E-mail me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or message me on Fiverr for more information.

 

Warning: The views expressed in the book reviewed, both religious and political, are not meant to represent the views of The Writer’s Scrap Bin, its writer, or its readers. The book heavily relies on Christian doctrine and faith healing, so proceed with caution if you take offense to religious discussion. Remember to keep all conversation about Murphy’s Remedy, religion, and any other topic which may arise civil; any bullying, trolling, or other abuse of this blog’s community or inappropriate use of this platform will result in disciplinary action.

Faith healing: a concept often approached with skepticism and negativity. I, for one, have never put much credence in the practice. I prefer to rely on modern medicine and certain alternatives, although I’ve always thought that a positive attitude could help in the healing process. The book I am reviewing today exposed me to a new view on faith healing, one which much more aligns with my own beliefs than everything I’ve ever heard about it. I must emphasize once again that I am not Christian and that neither my religious nor political views are necessarily reflected in this work, but I still thought it worthwhile to tell you about Remedy: How I Cured the Incurable by Matthew J. Murphy.

In 2015, the universe hit Murphy with three major obstacles—one personal, one legal, and one physical. While the first two took a lot of faith and patience on Murphy’s part to overcome, it was the final obstacle with which he struggled most and which has influenced him to write this book and launch his website. Diagnosed with a horrendous and life-threatening digestive disorder, the doctors gave Murphy two options: undergo major surgery to remove his entire colon or, with a slim chance of success, enter a life-long prescription regiment. Murphy, a member of the U.S. military, is not one to give up when things get hard, and so he took a third option which his intuition—which he believes comes from the Holy Spirit—told him to do. Instead of major surgery or prescriptions, he researched and assumed a path of alternative treatment including a liquid diet, supplements, exercise, Bone Broth, and prayer.

Remedy acts as part Christian memoir, part self-help, part patient testimony, and part inspirational novel. Murphy takes readers on a journey through his six-month self-healing experience, provides guidelines (heavy emphasis on “guidelines”) for those looking for alternative treatment, and presents the basic tools of faith healing while addressing many misconceptions about the practice from both sides of the aisle. While he does not guarantee success from following his steps exactly, Murphy assures readers that by molding his advice to their individual situations, having patience, and backing their actions with faith (and vice versa), results will show.

As someone who is not religious, I was naturally skeptical when I began this book. As someone who is somewhat spiritual, I was open to the possibilities, and Murphy surprised me. The most appealing part of this book, from a non-believer’s perspective, is that the author does not argue that prayer alone will heal you or that any remedy is a “one size fits all” solution. In fact, he states exactly the opposite. True faith, he claims, involves backing prayer with action, to show that you have hope and faith in the outcome; he emphasizes that no two situations are the same, and so all advice should be analyzed and personalized; most importantly, in my opinion, he asserts that you should consult a medical professional first.

I also appreciate the research that Murphy put into this book. As he reminds his readers, not all “self-help” writers bother to try their recommendations for themselves. Murphy, on the other hand, has and can personally attest to their effectiveness. The recipes, schedules, websites, books, and other aides he provides also impressed me. I particularly admire his willingness to suggest supplements which he wishes he had known the benefits of and started sooner. Not everyone, especially in print form, is willing to admit that they didn’t try something until later and Murphy’s list proves that he did truly learn and grow throughout his experience. Additionally, it represents a method of trial-and-error which makes his testimony more believable.

The author has not converted me to Christianity or changed my mind on religion. However, he makes several poignant observations in regards to positivity and faith. If we can have faith in humans fulfilling their promises, why can’t we have faith in some higher power looking out for us? Why should we assume that prayers will be answered immediately or without any effort on our part? And what is the harm in holding onto positivity and faith during oblivion, considering that the worst that can happen is that we only emotionally/psychologically feel better?

The writing could have done with more proofreading. I noticed multiple incidents of missing punctuation, words which should have been eliminated in editing, and single quotations within double quotations when such formatting is not necessary. I became annoyed by these errors when they were glaring but, overall, they are not enough to detract from the reading experience. Murphy’s informal style also grated on my nerves at points. It allows for a quick and easy read, which is key to engaging readers of such a book. Nevertheless, he gets too informal at times, such as the use of at least one emoji. While I can see the benefits of such writing, I prefer for nonfiction books, including self-help and spiritual works, to maintain a slightly higher level of formality. Otherwise, the reader may not trust the writer to know what he/she is talking about.

Remedy is not for everyone. As previously stated, the entire tome is based in Christianity and faith healing. This basis necessitates the author’s repeated use of Scripture and his explanation of and support for faith in God. Multiple pictures of Murphy’s deteriorated condition have also been provided, so I suggest that the squeamish and those with an aversion to Christianity avoid this book. However, those who do not mind images of the sick and are open to considering religious alternatives should give Murphy’s work a try. People suffering from a chronic illness—whether it’s a digestive disease, an autoimmune disorder, or even depression—should also consider reading his advice.

Overall, Remedy proved to be an intriguing read. I have never heard a faith healer argue for taking action as well as having faith in God, and I’m used to some “alternative treatment” advocates dogging heavily on mainstream healthcare. Murphy gives credit where credit is due in the healthcare system and remains prudent in his treatment suggestions and his recommendations on tailoring his advice to suit individual needs. The proofreading errors aside, I had no problems reading and understanding Murphy’s work. I’m glad to have had this chance to explore some alternative medicine and the analysis of the connection between faith and healing. I think that Murphy’s advice, at least the medicinal advice if not also the spiritual, could help many people; they just have to be willing to try.

To buy Remedy, follow this link to Amazon. For more information on Murphy, his healing, and more advice and resources for healing, be sure to check out the writer’s blog.

Know of a book you think I should read? Want your book reviewed on this blog? E-mail me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or message me on Fiverr.

 

Trigger Warning: Dawn of Chrysalis involves violence, gore, and hints of rape. If you have had any experiences with these subjects or would overall prefer to avoid them, proceed with caution. Also be advised that trafficking—albeit alien trafficking rather than human trafficking—plays a minor role attached to the conquest/colonization elements. Readers continue at your own discretion.

Spoiler Alert: Dawn of Chrysalis is the sequel to The Origin of F.O.R.C.E., and so there will be spoilers for the first book discussed in this review. Proceed with caution if you do not wish for the first book to be spoiled for you.

Today I’m revisiting the work of Sam B. Miller II to review Dawn of Chrysalis, the second novel in The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. series. I thought that the first book was really good; the second is even greater. I’ve always had a mix of fascination for and aversion to the idea that intelligent life has visited our planet, and Miller confuses these feelings even more.

The Chrysallamans have never met their match, not physically, not technologically, and definitely not mentally. That is, they hadn’t been evenly matched, not until they encountered 21^st-century Earthlings. Genetically modified with “unique” DNA, these humans aren’t like the ones the Chrysallamans encountered in the 1940s, and they don’t take the invasion lying down.

Dawn of Chrysalis picks up where the first book left off. The Chrysallaman military has been defeated; Whatsit and the human members of F.O.R.C.E. are creating a plan to assimilate peaceful Chrysallaman colonists into Earth’s population while also confronting the Emperor for his aggressive ways. Thanks to technological advances and the help of some cooperative Chrysallaman scientists, F.O.R.C.E. seems almost ready to make the trip to Chrysalis. There’s just one problem: a new enemy has forced the Emperor to flee to Earth, and he’s expecting a warm and protective welcome from his subjects. Readers and the characters begin to wonder: what caused the Emperor to leave Chrysalis, and what has F.O.R.C.E. gotten itself into this time?

With a new enemy for Chrysallamans and humans beyond our solar system and the reemergence of an old enemy on the home front, General Blunt, Whatsit, and the rest of F.O.R.C.E. have their work cut out for them. They now must protect Earth, innocent Chrysallamans, and themselves from multiple threats about whom they hardly have any information. With humor and a splash of romance, Miller takes readers on an adventure through space, death, and, detrimentally, scientific trial and error. Will F.O.R.C.E. be able to save Earth from this new threat? Will they discover and snuff out the enemies hiding among them before it’s too late? And what will greet F.O.R.C.E. when they reach Chrysalis?

In my review of The Origin of F.O.R.C.E., I stated that I am not a fan of human-alien first-encounter stories. Usually the invasion aspect turns me off. However, I make an exception for Miller’s work. Dawn of Chrysalis, much like the first book, adds much more depth to these first encounters than the clear-cut good guy/bad guy dynamic of the typical alien invasion. Readers quickly learn that not all Chrysallamans are bad and not all humans are good. Miller even turns the tables on the Chrysallamans, causing them to fall victim not only to the human rebels but to invaders of their own. The humor of this twist alone was enough to pull me through the entire 358 pages; people tend to forget how easily conquerors can be conquered and how there will always be someone more advanced than you in one way or another.

The novel’s length can be off-putting but, once again, it’s a quick read once you get started. The writing is simple but engaging, and Miller explains the scientific aspects in a way which allows even those without interest in such matters to understand the principles behind the technology F.O.R.C.E. develops. The first few chapters are a bit slower than the others; Miller reserves quite a bit of exposition for restating many facts, such as plot elements and character development, from the first book. While this catch-up could help new readers or be a refresher for current fans, I found the repetition rather tedious.

At least two of the stereotyped characters from the first book become better-rounded, with one even becoming more likeable. My favorite character remains Whatsit. After all, he’s an alien who’s both a lover and a fighter, having the empathy of a human and the shrewd battle skills of a Chrysallaman. Still, the McPherson/Heinbaum dynamic almost steals the rug from under Whatsit’s feet. The men remain opposites but have come to a better understanding and, arguably, have become best friends. No one can harm one—physically or emotionally—without retaliation from the other. This close bond combined with the humor of their back-and-forth makes McPherson and Heinbaum tied for my second favorite character, narrowly being beaten out by Whatsit.

A new, diverse cast of characters takes the stage as well. We meet the Asiddians, a race of bird-like warrior aliens bent on domination and power, a threat even to the vicious Chrysallamans. Miller also introduces Chrysallaman civilians, most notably scientists Dr. Jamins GooYee and JnnWall MerrCrr as well as Chellsee Brookkss, the Emperor’s enslaved concubine with a fondness for Whatsit. More human characters come into play as well but, to avoid spoilers, I will leave the statement at that.

Miller fills Dawn of Chrysalis with multiple forks in the road. Two in particular caught me by surprise but, in hindsight, make perfect sense for the plot, which is the sign of a good plot twist. He also maintained my interest by exploring the differences among humans, Chrysallamans, and Asiddians, which leads to many amusing linguistic misinterpretations.

I found multiple proofreading errors throughout the book, particularly missing punctuation. The errors seem more prominent than in the first novel but they did not detract from my overall reading experience, and so I would not discourage anyone from Miller’s writing because of them.

This book does not follow the same format as the first book, covering a smaller time span in more detail with fewer jumps. Nevertheless, Dawn of Chrysalis keeps the same level of intrigue, originality, and creative energy that I have come to expect from Miller. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of this story and highly recommend the series to fans of new takes on old-style science fiction. I can’t wait to get my hands on the third book and see what’s next for F.O.R.C.E. and the Chrysallamans.

To order Dawn of Chrysalis, follow this link to Amazon. For more information on the author and The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. series, visit the series Facebook page, follow @SamBMillerII on Twitter, or look the books up on Goodreads.

Know of a book I should read and review? Want your work reviewed on this blog? E-mail me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or message me on Fiverr.

 

Because I apparently don’t already have enough to do, I submitted two more book reviews to the OnlineBookClub.org, which were published within the past week. I can’t copy the reviews here for exclusivity reasons, but I will provided a couple sentences for each book to give you an idea about what they are as well as the links to OBC reviews. Today’s OBC reviews are for Edge of Infinity by Larry Don Garcia and Who Told You That You Were Naked? by William E. Combs.

Edge of Infinity is a first-encounter story unlike most science fiction novels. Unlike The Origin of F.O.R.C.E., which I reviewed on this blog, Edge of Infinity places the first official encounter between humans and aliens not in the past but centuries in the future. Not only does the “first encounter” not take place until the year 8515, but the typical invasion has been replaced by an invitation to join an intergalactic organization called the Order of the Enlightened. But what does membership mean for Earth? And what further alien encounters will the Order cause?

Who Told You That You Were Naked?: A Refreshing Reexamination of the Garden of Eden is, as the title states, a new look at the age-old tale of Adam and Eve’s fall from Grace and expulsion from the Garden of Eden. A book full of textual analysis and personal anecdotes, Combs’s work will appeal to Christians and those who have an intellectual curiosity for religion.

One of the books is highly cerebral and the other is highly religious, so not every reader will take to Edge of Infinity and Who Told You That Your Were Naked. Still, I suggest giving each a look if you’re curious about theories of our origins and possible interpretations of religious texts.

If you haven’t done so already, I also suggested signing up for the OnlineBookClub.org, either as a reader/reviewer or as a writer looking to have your works reviewed (you can’t review but you can still read the books in the latter case).

 

Trigger Warning: The graphic novel reviewed here contains depictions of violence, drug abuse, abusive relationships, references to rape, and the looming threat of neo-Nazism. If you have had any experience with these issues or otherwise wish to avoid such content, proceed with caution.

Today I’m reviewing another illustrated work. Unlike The Blue Unicorn’s Journey to Osm, this book is a graphic novel composed of four comic books. The subject matter is very adult and perfectly fits the tastes of readers who enjoy post-apocalyptic stories. Namely, this review will focus on Toxic Romance: A Post-Apocalyptic Love Story, written and illustrated by Benjamin Parkour and inked by War.

2099 CE, Post-Apocalyptic Manhattan. Marcus has lived a rough life filled with toxic romances and comedy. He pops handful after handful of painkillers to dull the misery, but he doesn’t need your pity. What he needs—what he thinks he needs—is Faith, the girl he saved and lost all those years ago in high school. Little does he know, their reunion will bring back more than just bittersweet memories.

Marcus soon finds himself on a mission to save the young woman he loves from her forced marriage, her abusive husband, and her husband’s menacing allies, all of whom are bent on creating a genetically-superior race of humans beginning with Faith. He must team up with the Pit Bull of Manhattan, sharpen his fighting skills, and gather all the anger and blind courage in him to make it past the slew of neo-Nazis separating him from his toxic romance. But can he do it? Can Marcus save Faith? Will they escape alive? Most importantly, will Faith let herself be rescued?

Romance, action, the revival of the Nazis, and a morally-questionable Urban Messiah abound in this gripping graphic novel. No more than fourteen pages each, these comic books pack many punches in a very short span. Accompanying the brief, crisp text are gorgeous illustrations worthy of any big-scale comic book franchise.

Parkour’s work reminds me quite a bit of the Original Sins comic book series featuring the notorious John Constantine, which is my all-time favorite comic book (frankly, the only comic book series I wanted to read up until this point). Marcus is a no-bullshit drug addict with a vigilante sense of justice, the sort of character any Constantine fan would appreciate. The moral makeup of the graphic novel is not cut-and-dry, either; while Marcus and his anti-Nazi ally seem to clearly be in the right, there are no pure heroes here, only antiheroes.

Fast-paced with a compelling plot, Toxic Romance makes for a very quick read that leaves you wanting more. Parkour creates a seamless transition between past and present, although the action scenes sometimes become so jumbled that I lost track of who is saying what. Parkour releases most of the background for Marcus and Faith through dialogue, although I never felt as though exposition slowed down the story. The writer manages to slip details about the characters’ past into their conversations in natural ways, from catching up on missed time to sarcastic remarks, which is a very difficult feat for even the most seasoned veteran. Parkour put a lot of thought and creative energy not only into this world but the characters as well, and that is one of the main reasons I was so enamored with these comic books.

Parkour also takes the reader on a rather dizzying whirlwind of events. The action scenes are so frequent and quick that I became a bit disoriented. Most of the time, this effect works in Parkour’s favor. After all, the comic books center on a post-apocalyptic world in which demented viewpoints, violence, and unexpected twists can take both the characters and the reader by surprise; it only makes sense that the reader be left as confused and frustrated as Marcus. Still, the disorientation occasionally forced me to re-read pages in order to ensure that I knew exactly what was going on.

For the most part, the illustrations and text are skillfully balanced and complement each other nicely. However, I ran into an issue with a few of the darker-colored illustrations which grew annoying after the first couple encounters. Some of the darker illustrations bleed over the text, causing some letters and even whole worlds to be all but invisible to the reader. If I stopped and focused, I would be able to make out the covered words. Nevertheless, doing so slowed down my reading a little and, as I am prone to migraine attacks and eyestrain, started to give me headaches. I love the illustrations, mind you, but I think that Parkour and the rest of the team should go back and fix those areas so that all the text can easily be read.

I also noticed a few proofreading errors such as misspellings, as I have frequently seen with small-scale publications lately. They do not detract from the overall quality of the graphic novel and do not occur often, but they are still present.

As far as comic books and short graphic novels go, Toxic Romance by Benjamin Parkour is top-notch, especially for a small-scale publication. While it is very violent and heavy on drug addiction and physical/sexual abuse, Parkour handles these subjects in a way which did not make me uncomfortable. They are crucial to the story line and character development and, although openly depicted, are not overly-explicit. I also find the neo-Nazi and Eugenics angle to be very appropriate for the current political climate in the United States (although I’m certain my conservative readers will disagree, which they are welcome to so long as they remain civil and polite). For me, socio-political commentary always enhances the value of a book, and I think that Parkour uses it very aptly in his work.

Aside from Original Sins and a graphic novelization of Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonflight, I have never been one for comic books or graphic novels. With Toxic Romance, however, I am eager to see where the story goes and hope that Parkour and his team will continue to release issues about Marcus, Faith, and the fight against Neo-Nazism in a post-apocalyptic world.

If you would like to learn more about Parkour and his work, you can follow this link to his website. The website also has free PDF copies of each comic book in Toxic Romance, so please take the time to read them and leave your thoughts on the graphic novel in the comments below.

Do you know any books I should read? Would you like your work reviewed on this blog? Contact me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com or look me up on Fiverr.

 

Warning: This book depicts violence, gore, and man-eating aliens in mild detail and contains slightly sexually-suggestive material. If you are offended by such subjects or otherwise wish to avoid them, proceed with caution.

Update: To learn more about The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. and Sam B. Miller II, check out the series’ Facebook page and Miller’s Twitter and Goodreads pages.

On Friday I posted an alien writing prompt and briefly discussed two science fiction novels I have been reading. As promised, I am reviewing one of those books today, The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. by Sam B. Miller II. This novel explores the possibility of aliens and a fictionalized initial human/alien encounter.

Roswell, New Mexico: July 8, 1947. It’s a day which thrives in history thanks to the UFO and paranormal communities. We all know, yet also don’t know, what happened that night. At first, the military told the public a weather balloon had been shot down. Since then, so many different versions of the story and theories about the event have emerged that it’s hard for any single person to keep track. However, there is one theory which has stuck in the minds of Americans, some as a serious matter and others as a joke: the fallen craft was, in fact, extraterrestrial.

Miller’s The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. follows this theory for that night but with a new twist. Rather than the traditional Gray which is most often portrayed, the aliens who piloted the craft are actually a reptilian race called the Chrysallaman. Telepathic, technologically-advanced and enhanced, vicious, and dominating, the Chrysallaman could easily overthrow the human race—and that’s exactly what they plan to do. They aren’t deterred when one of their scouts is shot down and all the crew killed by humans; in fact, it motivates the commanding officer, Hisspat Zeck, to take revenge on all mankind, if the Chrysallaman Emperor lets him live.

Unknown to Zeck, one Chrysallaman has survived the crash: WrrNrr Zennk, the twelve-year-old son of DrrTrr Zennk, the captain of the scout. Overpowered and captured by human Major James Blunt, WrrNrr—known to humans as Whatsit—holds the key to forewarning the U.S. military of the impending threat and preparing Earth for invasion. With 65-70 years before the Chrysallaman Empire returns, General Matt Collier compiles a committee of experts from scientists to military personnel with the purpose of designing a defense plan for the entire planet. On one side are McPherson and Heinbaum, two extremely intelligent opposites working to reverse-engineer the Chrysallaman weapons. On the other side are James Blunt and Diane Hoffman—with the help of Lucy Smith, Mike Jenson, Tom LeBlanc, and Whatsit—trying to genetically modify humans to be a match for the Chyrsallaman aliens in physical combat.

Over 459 pages, Miller exposes readers to military preparations spanning decades, starting with one generation and being passed to the next. Miller also explores the interpersonal relationships of the members of the committee and the effect that this project has on their lives, both bad and good. While everything seems to be progressing in the committee’s favor, threats on two fronts emerge: the long-awaited Chrysallaman ships and, more immediately, humans who fear what they don’t understand.

Will mankind be ready once the 70 years are up? Who will stand in the way of progress? And, most importantly, how will the long-awaited battle between humans and Chrysallamans end?

As I made clear in Friday’s writing prompt, while I have an embarrassing amount of knowledge regarding the alien phenomenon, I’ve never really been a fan of first-encounter science fiction. Honestly, before this book and the other novel I’m currently reading, only Ray Bradbury’s short story “Mars is Heaven!” truly captured my attention. I’m just not into alien invasions. Nevertheless, Miller’s book brings a level of intrigue, depth, and humanity to the invasion/first-encounter story line which I have not seen before.

Although it is around 459 pages long, the novel is a quick read once you get started. The writing is simple and almost like a modern storyteller in its form. Sometimes the style leads to unnecessary amounts of exposition, at least as far as the plot goes, but I enjoyed having the more in-depth view of the characters which this exposition provided. It gives multiple layers to many of the characters, even the ones whom I would argue border on stereotypes and clichés.

Along with the quick pace, Miller presents a compelling plot. I quite enjoyed the book spanning across so many years, although I can understand how some people may not have the patience for such a long-term setting. American pop culture has become conditioned to story lines of immediate alien invasion but that trend sets unrealistic standards. The time frame Miller uses makes the scenario much more plausible, and I think that part of that foresight is due to Miller’s scientific background.

Miller heavily explains the scientific concepts behind the technological and biological advances made by the humans. Some readers may be put off by such detail, but I found Miller’s writing helped me understand the “science” of this “science fiction” without too many holdups. In fact, I loved that the author took the time to think these aspects through and trusted that the reader can follow along. I hate when books underestimate the reader’s ability to understand harder concepts.

That being said, the explanations did lend to the excess in exposition, particularly in scientists’ dialogue. It didn’t bother me for the most part but, at points, the over-exposition bogs down the narrative.

My favorite character, by far, is Whatsit. Although an alien, Whatsit is no monster. He is nothing more than a frightened kid on the defensive when Blunt finds him; once his new “Master” takes command and he is exposed to more humans, Whatsit grows into a very strong, empathetic, and hilarious being capable of expressing a wide range of emotions. Whatsit, despite the tainting influence of his father, is very open-minded and brave, given his circumstances, and he becomes the constant the reader can latch onto for the entire story.

Admittedly, I had a stronger preference for the first half of the book, but I think I’m biased. I am fascinated by people who seem to wield unusual abilities, and so the search for “uniques” in the beginning is right up my alley. Miller also throws in a corrupt “church mafia,” as I will call it, which I found both entertaining and crucial as social commentary on mankind’s fear of the unknown. Still, the second half of the book kept my attention, and even piqued my interest during the alien invasion, in which I’m not typically all that interested.

This book is both forward-thinking and classic science fiction. Unfortunately, with the “classic science fiction” trait comes some pitfalls in the writing. Namely, Miller inevitably uses the over-done scene of landing in front of the White House, although he certainly makes up for the cliché of that scene with an unexpected twist that had me laughing out loud. As I mentioned before, there are characters who seem rather stereotypical and cliché. The military generals for the Chrysallaman military have no conscience and are just evil, soulless beings. While Whatsit more than makes up for the alien cliché, I still wished I could’ve had a little something I could relate to in these more “evil” aliens. Your Grace also comes across as a rather one-dimensional mafia-style church villain, but I think that may have been by design, both for social commentary and comedic effect.

Throughout the story there are grammatical errors, mostly in the areas of improper punctuation, a lack of punctuation, and extra/missing quotation marks. Regardless, they did not detract from my reading experience.

I could go on and on about this book, particularly how it could have been a series within itself and the potent parallels between the alien invasion and European colonization of the “New” World. However, I will leave my review at this: Miller’s The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. held my attention from start until end. I became emotionally-invested in the characters and their relationships, and I wanted to know what happened once the Chrysallamans arrived. This book has convinced me to pursue Miller’s writing further, and I am looking forward to getting my hands on the second book of The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. series.

To buy The Origin of F.O.R.C.E., follow this Amazon link.

Know of any books I should review? Want me to read and review your book on this blog? Drop a line the comments below, contact me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com, or check out my profile on Fiverr.