by Roy M. Griffis • • 0 Comments
Book giveaway over at TomeTender, a festive book blog that has a lot of love for both The Old World and Into the Flames and who then had a lot of fun with me while putting it together. Check it out!
No, not you guys. America Ferrera, actress and Hillary’s newest BFF in waiting, wrote a panting love letter to Hillary Clinton entitled “Why Hillary Clinton Thrills the Hell Out of Me.” It began thusly: “There is a view, often expressed on my social media feeds, which maintains that I am voting for Hillary Clinton because I’m a stupid, uninformed, misguided feminist who only knows how to vote with her ignorant vagina.”
I felt compelled to respond (and not just because she was talking about her naughty bits).
For By the Hands of Men, Book Two, Into the Flames (some of them include Book One of the series, The Old World, as well), and they’re pretty nice.
My favorite so far is this one, from BookBlogger, Carrie K, who wrote: “Wow…That is the best word I can find to describe these books. Wow! So Good!” I think I like that one best because she sounds so surprised (which she actually explains a bit further into the review).
A very lovely blogger known as Mrs. C wrote, “If you are a romantic, lover of history, and appreciate great writing which could be described as classic, you will enjoy this excellent work. I have the sequel to The Old World at my side, ready to open as soon as I complete this review. ”
by Roy M. Griffis • • 0 Comments
By book blogger “Mrs. C.”
About the time I discovered my grandfather’s role in WWI, I received a request from this author to review this beautiful novel set during The Great War. Author Roy Griffis has the rare talent of writing vividly descriptive narrative which places the reader inside the scene as a nonparticipating character. His impeccable research has allowed this novel to be compared to Hemingway’s A Farewell To Arms.
This novel begins on the battlefield during the Christmas Day truce, and takes off like a bullet thereafter. Charlotte, a nurse, physically cares for Robert, an officer, man of mystery, and eventually emotionally cares for him. Charlotte longs for him, and he her, the only bright spot in their war. Eventually, they part, but not their hearts. Even in deepest despair, Robert remembers the giver of a cross he wears around his neck.
I wrote the first page of By the Hands of Men, Book Four.
I’ve complained a bit lately (“lately,” you say?) about the various horse-puckey mechanisms that encourage Americans to ignore all but the most formulaic and famous of our national fiction. But part of this is perhaps the fault of writer-reviewers; even if we produce novels ourselves, we both avoid and screw up fiction reviews, because they are hard (and also not conducive to clickbait, you barnyard Internet animals).
The more enthused a reviewer is about a piece of fiction, ya see, the less we want to spoil its surprises—be they plot twists, turns of phrase, or a sweet new massage of a time-honored theme. We know the writer worked hard to come up with that left turn, dammit. Thus we overcompensate, giving the reader only the vaguest idea of why he would profit from the story, and the writer’s hard work is all for nought.
After the workplace violence Jihadi-inspired slaughter in San Bernardino, CA (less than 20 miles from where I write this), a lot of Americans are concerned. Not so much about the deeply flawed visa system, but about our Liberal friends.
We’re concerned about their insistence on allowing upwards of 10,000, mostly young male Syrian immigrants into the country. It strikes some of us that using a system that cheerfully allowed a woman with a false address and murderous heart to enter the US seems like a problem. And on further reflection, it occurs to us that using that same system to vet the largely unverifiable backgrounds of young men from a broken civil government could be, you know, uncool.