Month: August 2017

The Dreaded About Page

You want poetry? I got poetry, how much do you want?

You want shorts? I have those too. Let let me brush the dust off and give them a bit of a polish and they are yours.

Novels? Full length.? Challenge accepted.

You want me to finish my About Me page? *runs away screaming*

Why you may ask? Well, it is because About Me pages are about the only bit of writing that I have never successfully completed. Oh, I do know that they are essential for connecting with my readers, however, they just seem trite. I am a writer and I can write on a whole host of topics and genres, however, when it comes to writing about myself, my first instinct is to run and hid. This is why the About Me pages on this blog, on my Facebook Page and on Twitter are pretty much empty.

The thing is, when it comes to talking about my self, I really don’t know what to say. I am a ordinary being of the human variety and there really isn’t anything interesting in my everyday life. Which, when I think about it, is the probable reason why I have an over active imagination. It is much more fun to mull over the best way to escape the zombies if I happen to be at work when the apocalypse happens than staring at the clock, and waiting for it to tell me it’s time to go home.

Once I am home, I usually write most of my daily musing down somewhere because sometimes, there will be something in there that will be too good to let go but not to weird to be story worthy. I am well aware that popcorn really isn’t dried and roasted smurf brains, but the thought did creep me out a little. The industrial farming of smurfs for human consumption  isn’t a thing, but maybe it should be.

The short of it is, my writing is the most interesting thing about me and the average About Me page demands more than, “Hi My name is PD Sampson and I am a writer.”

Eventually I will find that magic formula for talking about myself, but until then I will hid in my wardrobe, drink tea and eat chocolate, and prey that no one notices the blank page.

The Harvesting by Melanie Karsak

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Have you ever picked up a book thinking that is was one thing, only to discover that it was something better? The Harvesting is that book. It is balsamic reduction on ice cream. There is no logical reason why those two should go together, but they just do. And they are delicious. The Harvesting starts out as a typical zombie apocalypse yarn in much the same style as the Walking Dead, but very quickly, supernatural elements creeps in and gives the over all work a whole different flavor. The Harvesting is a beautiful blend of horror and supernatural fiction. Karsak did such a masterful job in the blending of the two genre that there is no sense that it is contrived at all. It made for a very compelling read which sucked me in, despite a few flaws.

One of the best things though about this book is it’s heroine. Layla is unapologetically a warrior spirit. The most refreshing thing about her, is that she doesn’t fit into the over done trope of the female fighter with the tragic past. Karsak has successfully moved beyond the age old idea that a woman warrior needs to have some sort of trauma as a trigger for her to take up the sword. Layla is a warrior, just because she is a warrior and nothing more. This makes her a delightful character with a strong voice which draws the reader in. Unfortunately, the rest of the inhabitants of this world fall a bit short.

The characters which inhabit the Hamletville are very well rooted in reality. This makes it very easy to believe that they are ordinary everyday people who have been tossed into an impossible and horrific situation. Every kind of person that one can find in a small town, even the kindly priest and the town gossip can be found there. While, they are all believable, most are so ordinary as to be bland. This is their downfall. There just isn’t any, even those who are instrumental to the movement of the plot line, that are truly memorial, or stood out in any way. Most simply became a mass of faceless people which Layla needed to save and protect.

Though, the most disappointing thing about this work, is the fact that the emotional content is flat. The reader should have been devastated right along with the heroine of the story, when the grandmother died and even more so when Layla discovers that the old lady knew what was coming. Furthermore, for a heavy angst story arc of a love triangle between Layla and two brothers, it just feels empty and contrived. There is no angst or anguish and everything is simply a matter of fact. Even at the ending when Ian become vampire destroys himself to save her. We should have been weeping at that point.

Over all, there are good point and bad points. I wasn’t my intention to focus on the negative, but they were there. It was a damn good read with a really good narration. It just wasn’t above average in any way. I would give it 3 stars out of 5.