Now Available: 'The Perfect Rochester'

It's finally out! Narcisse's adventures in mortal-immortal coexistence and all the annoying drama that comes with the territory is available. Seriously, it felt like a dog's age, waiting for this day to come since I resisted the temptation to release the book a month or even two months earlier. But discipline is golden, and I'm doing my best to stick to my plans, whether or not the lure of calendar adjustments is good. 

At any rate...

This book takes place concurrently with Nightshade's Emporium, and while it's not necessary, it does help to have read that book in order to get some of the references made to Viktor's own personal drama as the god of death. 

And here's the blurb for The Perfect Rochester:

Being a primordial god has its perks unless one considers maturation, and centuries spent largely isolated from humanity begin to bear awkward fruit. Narcisse Nightshade, primordial god of sleep, is about to discover just how clumsy his coming-of-age at twenty immortal years can be. Prone to collapsing in defensive sleep and finding comfort in his specifically woven dreamscapes, he's used to enjoying his solitude his own way whenever the ills of the mortal world threaten his waking hours.

Until one night a stranger suddenly appears in his dream—a windswept, raging, Victorian dreamboat who instantly catapults Narcisse into a highly irregular adventure playing detective. How on earth did this invader manage to enter a private dream? What did he want from the god of sleep?

Narcisse fumbles through his own coming-of-age with the help of immortal messengers, a soulless older sister bent on exacting bloody justice, a hovering mother widely feared by their feuding kin, and Chaos itself. What he discovers about this elusive mortal opens the floodgates to his own inner world and his heart, and perhaps—perhaps—the god of sleep is a great deal more human where it counts the most.

Taking place concurrently as the events in Nightshade's Emporium, The Perfect Rochester is a romantic comedy about dreams, elusive and otherwise.

The book has its own Book Gallery page over yonder, and you're more than welcome to dig in there and read up on a few behind-the-scenes tidbits (plus extra music videos). The Perfect Rochester is available in e-book format for 99 cents and print for $9.00. 

Hurry Up and Leave, February

Nope, this month dragged like a mofo, and just about every day has been a waist-deep slog through Satan's cesspit. This week (and the month) is ending on a higher than usual note, and I'll take it. Jesus. With any luck -- Mercury retrograde aside* -- March will be a full purging of this month's nasty juju. 

So we axed Netflix a few months sooner than planned. We're just not checking out the site anymore for entertainment, and I'm really less inclined to follow any kind of series nowadays and would rather settle in for one-shots. The only series I'm honestly watching are re-watches, i.e., favorite series I've seen before and have become comfort viewing. Like, for instance, the Granada production of Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett. I mentioned I'm on a Poirot kick and am checking out episodes and reacquainting myself with them. I'd lose myself in Cadfael all over again as well as Inspector Morse, but they're hard to come by.

On the whole, though, my primary source of entertainment is books. I've posted about Amazon Kindle and the changes in their policy of ownership previously. My epub reader is now packed -- PACKED -- with my library from not just Amazon, but Smashwords and Kobo as well. Since I re-downloaded the app and re-uploaded my library, every book is currently marked "unread", which is sending me over the moon. 

Because it means I'll be rereading my choice books (I went through my collection and removed the ones I remember not being thrilled with from my app) and rediscovering them.** Yeah, baby.

I also have a Hoopla app downloaded, and that's an alternative to my preferred fare of genre fiction. I don't use it as often since not all books I want to read are available there, but it does give me access to authors with massive backlists. 

One more thing I did for myself to preserve my peace of mind is to delete my Disqus account as access to it encouraged me to dive right back in political sites for socializing and commentary, and that's the last thing I need (or even want). I've come to terms already with distancing myself from my favorite sites like Joe My God, but mental health is paramount, and the less negative distraction I expose myself to, the better. The same goes for Youtube, where I'm now actively muting political accounts. My current sources of entertainment and information there are video essays on films and books. Also cats. And cooking. And nifty science accounts on how things are made. Also history. And ghosts on video.

And speaking of actively sequestering myself online, I recently watched Conclave. 

It's an intelligent film that's gorgeously directed and acted with cinematography that's just as beautiful and meticulous as the procedure of choosing a new Pope. Ralph Fiennes carries the weight of the film with painful gravitas, and his face conveys so much without him speaking a single word. The movie takes it time and allows the viewer to sink slowly into every scene, which has almost an unearthly quality to it. It's contained, restrained, and equal parts luxurious and claustrophobic. 

The one thing about it that didn't quite wow me as much was the plot. It's touted as a thriller, which it is in a more restricted sense, but it's not a standard thriller by way of its use of suspense. There's mystery, of course, and a gradual unearthing of conspiracies, but the tension of high stakes isn't really there. At least I didn't feel it as much as I thought I would. Things were resolved surprisingly quickly and easily, I felt, which means there was a bit of an imbalance in the screenplay's emphasis (more was placed on Lawrence's search for the truth over the final battle between two ideologies). That said, what ultimately made it work in spite of all that was the palpably increasing weight being placed on a man who doesn't want the job but is gradually realizing he might just have to make that sacrifice if he didn't want the wrong candidate ascend. Fiennes's portrayal of a reluctant Dean is just incredible.

As a (lapsed) Catholic, I deeply appreciate the movie's unflinching exposition on men of God being mere mortals and prone to weakness and corruption. We see that not only in the Catholic church but other denominations as well in the real world. 

And on that note, I'm getting myself mentally prepared for my next rental, The Substance. Yep, that's a whiplash move from one end of the entertainment spectrum to the other.

* I don't believe in Mercury retrogrades, but I love blaming them for day-to-day fuckups.

** I'll probably re-download them once more and give them another shot. Chances are I'll be able to pull my head out of my ass and actually enjoy them in the second round.

Yeah. Thanks for the Reminder.

Or in brief, "Amazon dun something shitty again" which means I'm being led back to my beloved epub reader app, which I've just loaded up some more with converted Kindle books.

This video came out a few days ago, and I didn't get to see it till just yesterday because I finally have time to sit down and decompress properly BECAUSE I had to call in sick. Yay, day job. 

It's actually been 2 - 3 years since I switched over completely from buying Kindle books to buying epub books, a format that's agnostic enough to be read by a variety of e-reading devices. Yes, including Kindle. You can buy a book elsewhere in epub format, email it to your Kindle account, and Amazon then converts that file to KFX, which is their proprietary format. That way, you can still hold on to old Kindle books and read them alongside the newer (converted) epub ones. That's a win all the way, and that's what I've been doing all this time.

Since I gave up my old Kindle devices when they got too old to be supported and only use the free phone app, I never really thought about the great feature Amazon used to offer customers: download purchased e-books to your computer so you can transfer it to your device via USB. It's a reassuring reminder that the books you paid for are yours. Apparently Amazon's about to take that away, too, with this exclusive move to cloud storage as I understand it.

Yeah, no. Fucking Bezos has too much control already.

So I pretty much spent a good chunk of my sick day yesterday combing through my extensive library of Kindle ebooks from years past. I knew there was no way I was going to be willing to spend time downloading and converting every freaking title I bought. So I just cherry picked books I loved and would like to reread down the line. Happily for me, they all were in a KFX format that I was able to strip before converting to an epub format. Save for the books of one author, that is, and in order for me to own HER books, I'll have to buy them in print format. I don't mind doing that, but it'll take me more time to get those books since print books ain't cheap. 

Once I'm settled down completely and am happy with the stuff I've converted and uploaded to my epub e-reader, I'm deleting my Kindle app for good. I guess ownership ain't what it used to be, so screw that.  

'Dollhouse' and a Bohemian Legend

I ran across the legend of the Knights of Blanik Mountain while researching something else for another book (can't remember the actual book, but I do remember getting happily sidetracked by this). I love the idea of mythical guardians of a country staying hidden and dormant until roused by a threat. In the case of the Knights of Blanik Mountain, it would be the call of the patron saint of Bohemia (now the Czech Republic), Wenceslaus I. 

The sleeping Knights of Blanik Mountain

So one thing led to another the more I read up on it, and eventually I came up with the idea of supernatural guardians specific to different countries who are locked in a perpetual tug-of-war over human souls against another figure from legend: Viduus, a minor Roman god who is responsible for separating the human soul from the body. In the case of the AU Europe I chose for the setting, Viduus appears in a variety of disguises to desperate mortals, and he tricks them into a bargain over a cursed artifact or object that reflects the victim's deepest desire.

In Dollhouse, we're looking at an orphan boy who's always wished for a family, and he's separated from his older sister one day and is enticed into a mysterious toy store. For poor little Arthur, his desire for a family is turned into a deadly bargain over a dollhouse. 

Wenceslaus I

It's this use of a cursed object that's also spawned the collection's name: Curiosities. Curiosities were previously associated with a collection of oddities housed in a display cabinet, but that idea evolved into its current form the farther I got writing Dollhouse. So Arthur's cursed object is different from Alexej's (Automata) and from Emerick's mother (Eidolon). 

I was tempted to write more for this collection but found myself losing steam with Eidolon, which is a shame because there's really so much more potential for this collection. I'm open to possible future books but in long novella form (see: Ghosts and Tea), but as always, it'll all depend on time, energy, and inspiration. All the same, I'm happy with what I've managed to accomplish with just three books for this collection and don't regret leaving the collection as is. 

Dollhouse is part of February's Backlist Bonanza 50% off sale, and you can get a copy of the book over here.

On a Poirot Kick (Plus Catching Up with Some Good Stuff)

Having recently rented and watched (and enjoyed) Kenneth Branagh's adaptation of Death on the Nile, I'm now officially back on a Poirot kick but in book form. I'm also limiting my use of digital devices and sticking to print copies of Agatha Christie's books so as not to be tempted away from said devices (or device in my case since I no longer have my Kindle e-reader and only use the app on my phone) by neighboring apps. I got copies of Hallowe'en Party and the complete Poirot short stories from used book sellers and am set to check out And Then There were None and Dumb Witness (this one was one of my favorite episodes from the David Suchet series) from the local library. 

I'm hoping to borrow The ABC Murders once the library's copies are available and will place a hold once I'm done with the two. 

My dependence on an e-reader app is easing up gradually. Amazon offers occasional specials on their Kindle Unlimited subscription service, and I take advantage of them whenever I feel like it. I'm not one for KU both as a reader and a writer. I honestly don't like limiting readers' options when it comes to where they can buy my books, and judging from my monthly statements, it's proving to be a smart move since folks are spoiled for choice, and Kobo is beating Amazon every time. So is Hoopla, in fact, and I'm really pleased that readers are taking advantage of that service. 

Of course those KU deals have an expiration, and I'm always keeping one eye on the calendar (though Amazon will send you a reminder a week before the expiration happens) and find myself much more likely to DNF a book that's not holding my interest. Not a good thing as a reader since I'm not giving writers a fair shake, but it's the effect of a subscription service deal on me ("I only have X time to discover and enjoy new books! Aw, shit!"). And if I do run across a new writer whose book(s) I devour via KU, I'll be buying their books to read and keep in the future. 

And the sad effect of this mindset is that none of the books stick with me, and if I were to try to borrow them again via another subscription deal, I discover I've read that book before but remember nothing about it. Whereas the books I buy, I take my time with and still remember bits of their plots regardless of whether or not I end up loving them. I'm now finding this thing to be true with other subscription services. Like Netflix, which for the longest time I depended on for my home entertainment but now barely touch. We're thinking of canceling our subscription in a few months depending on our bill payment situation, but if we do, I'm not going to lose sleep over it. 

Renting movies on occasion is now fulfilling that visual escapist need, and I really don't find it necessary to be bombarded with hundreds of options every time I get on Netflix. I'm not a voracious viewer, if you will, and I'll now more likely watch a film / one-shot than invest time on a series, no matter how long. Hell, I've lost interest in GBBO, which has been my comfort show in what feels like forever. Anyway, things are now up in the air where Netflix goes, which leads me to the whole single-rental-thing I'm now preferring.

I finally, FINALLY watched American Fiction and absolutely loved it. It's vicious and gets in your face about race issues in publishing and entertainment through dry humor. But there are also a number of dramatic moments that blindside you and crush your heart. Those involving Sterling K. Brown as the gay son who's hurting and dealing with family issues throw you for a loop at first and even threatens a really terrible stereotype about gay men (particularly black gay men) until the second half of the movie, and you're shown why he's on that path. And the resolution? Not what you expect. Certainly not what I expected, and it triggered the waterworks. Race and publishing might be at the forefront of the story, but family is tightly woven into the fabric of the whole thing. Specifically, what actually defines family in the guise of Lorraine.

The ending is very meta and funny in its own way while also being sad considering the point it was trying to make about black artists and what white society expects from them. I'd love to read the book, but the few copies at the local library are all checked out, and there's a massive long line of other patrons waiting their turn. I don't mind waiting longer.

Conclave is next on my must-watch list as The Substance, which I know I'll need to brace myself for. Talk about a study in contrasts.