Frankly, Folsom Fails

I’m unfamiliar with Willow Aster, but I adore Tarryn Fisher. In a genre of paint-by-numbers stories, I wasn’t expecting Olivia when I first picked up The Opportunist a few years ago. It floored me. Shortly after, Fisher’s Mud Vein devastated me. Every time I read her work she inspires me to stop fucking around and write. She writes damaged, flawed characters that are intensely relatable because instead of the flowery, perfect lead-heroine types, she creates us, without apologies.

It deeply pains me to say it, but Folsom, a debut series novel written by Fisher and Aster, is a wreck. This is a dystopian novel that takes place in an indeterminate future, where technology is advanced enough to create virtual/augmented reality simulations and comm devices that are far more advanced than where we are today, but somehow science is failing the In-Vitro Fertilization game. Men, through apparent war (mass devastation and nuclear war is mentioned but never shown or explained) have either died off or become sterile, leaving only 12 virile men in what is left of the United States (United Regions? States no longer exist—again, unexplained) to repopulate the country. They are lauded and idolized but are given no choices about who they screw and are expected to perform at least three times (so-called “appointments”) a day. Enter our heroine, Gwen. She had a dream about a baby when she was 12, and after telling her mother, they’ve been determined to make it a reality ever since. Being well connected and thus able to schedule an appointment, she and her inexplicably catty sister have appointments with Folsom on the same day, each getting pregnant, and Gwen of course, getting the boy. During her appointment however, she learns of Folsom’s performance expectations and lack of choices. She’s appalled to learn that he usually needs pills to have sex with women and that he gets no choice or option to say no. Thus, begins the impetus of the story. Freedom of choice, freedom of speech, and the freedom to love are the ideals here, all of which are being curbed by corrupt women.

I did not realize that we needed a Handmaid’s Tale for men.

This book triggered many of my sacred cows, and that doesn’t surprise me—I enjoy being challenged by authors. This just felt completely derived from Margaret Atwood’s work, much like All Lives Matter is derived from Black Lives Matter. In this, I feel like someone watched The Handmaid’s Tale and thought, “Yeah, well, men’s sex choices matter too!” Yes of course they do, but that’s not the point, is it? The authors made sure to acknowledge the plight of women before the “End of Men” several times, but the only women who seem to do so are the ones defending the enslavement of the 12 for the “greater good” of humanity.

Our heroine is clear that she wants the End Men program to stop because it’s the humane thing to do…but she has her boy baby and is in love with one of the End Men. Her motivations, as clearly as they are explained, are never sympathetic until much later when even more Handmaid’s Tale stuff happens. The character relationships aren’t very believable, and even more, women are written with very little sympathy. The governor is tyrannical without apparent cause, the sister is a hateful bitch without apparent cause, her own mother turns on her without apparent cause….and I’m over here, feeling personally betrayed because I know for a fact that these authors are women who promote supporting women. Instead, they are writing women who are the one-dimensional beasts that “I just get along better with men” women (as I once was) tend to believe. Where are the character layers? Where is the quality world-building? Hell, where is the steamy sex? I mean, at the base of all this is the desire to be turned on while I read and I’m not. I’m not moved in any way—
–except to write this.

Word Wreckage

Guilty pleasures are primarily what I read.  I’m a 30-something who seldom reads “adult” fiction and I like it that way.  I acknowledge this and seldom give myself shit about it.  However, every time I read a book by Tijan, I feel dirty. Alas, not in the good way.  It’s almost like I’m doing penance for reading generally shallow fantasy and romance fiction.  Do I read a Tijan book to remind myself what shit persists in such trite genres?  I really don’t know.  But I’ve read most of her books.  Willingly.  Paid for them too.

Just…take it. I have no shame.

 

I have quit reading countless self-published authors for their audacity to use a book cover I’ve seen on another title.  I have blacklisted authors on my Goodreads account at the mere mention of a character going to church. I DNF’d a book once because the author referenced The Shining as “The Shinning.”  Yet, I continue to read Tijan books—every single one of them poorly edited, logistically leapy, and as dramatic as an episode of Degrassi.

Today I finished a small paranormal trilogy of hers called the The Immortal Prophecy, which follows the lead character, Davy Harwood.  Its category would be New Adult Paranormal, as it follows a college-aged girl, who, though a series of unfortunate events, becomes a carrier for The Immortal thread.  I’m not even going to explain that…I doubt the author could either.  There are vampires, and eventually werewolves and witches.  It’s just…all bad.  I feel like Tijan started with an idea and as she began writing she’d get new ideas and have to somehow write herself out of the old ideas.  There’s so much irrelevant information passed on to the reader that the first book and the third book could be from different universes entirely.  I could forgive that type of story change—in fact my favorite series is nearly unrecognizable from its debut novel to the most recent publishing.  But I could literally skip whole chapters of The Immortal Prophecy and nothing would change.  Then I could skip one paragraph and suddenly the main character is, inexplicably, in a coma for a quarter of the book.

I’m really not trying to call Tijan out on the badness of these books.  Really.  Her Fallen Crest series is so much fun.  I’m mostly here to admit that, regardless of how badly edited or written her books tend to be, I keep coming back for more.  Authors like her really inspire me to get moving on my own literary career in editing (or writing if I can ever maintain momentum).  She, regardless of the issues I have with the presentation of her work, is able to create compelling Hero/Heroine combinations that are the meat of her stories.  If I could get my hands on one of her manuscripts I swear we could at least put out a ridiculous TV show on Freeform or the CW.  The drama!  The suspense!  The backstabbing!  The angst!

This isn’t a new phenomenon for me.  There’s another small series (Mad World) from another self-published author (Christine Zolendz) that I just adore.  The characters are funny, the dialogue is great, and the story is interesting.  But the editing is shit.  There are illogical leaps in the story line that are maddening.  With some editing and rearranging the series would be awesome.  It actually hurts me to see the potential there and know what they released could have been so much better.  I just want to help, so let me end with this:

Dear Struggling Author,

I feel your pain.  Writing is hard!  Once you finish your heartsong, please continue to take care of it.  A story is not complete once it leaves your brain and appears on a screen.  Editing is a must.  Now, I know the attraction of a free editor is strong.  But many of these “editors” are baby book bloggers or simply fans of the genre and like reading and trying to help the process.  All mean well, but not everyone knows their shit.  You must insist upon quality.  Don’t rely on one editor or beta reader.  Be open to criticism and ask for corrections if people can find them.  Believe me, your readers will.  My grandmother still sends corrections to publishing houses.  Publishing Houses.  No one is perfect or will catch everything.  But you have to choose someone who will catch most things.  I beg you.  Your work is worth it.

Thanks,

Tarafina

Jumping Ships

I was introduced to the world of “shipping” when I first joined Tumblr and did a Game of Thrones search.  I had to look it up….I mean, why were people talking about Danyrion and getting riled up about a character that doesn’t exist?  Thanks to Urban Dictionary, I was able to understand the new internet language that I am apparently too old to access any other way.

I’ll call myself an old-school shipper.  I’d say my first ship was Zack and Kelly (…I’ll call them “Zelly”) from Saved by the Bell.  Angel + Buffy (Bangel) quickly followed, and then of course Spike + Buffy (Spuffy) and I’ll be damned if I am yet able to figure out who I love her with more.  Since my first Tumblr ship exposure, I’d estimate that about 75% of my feed is mostly fan shipping.  I may be in my 30s, but apparently I am still an angsty teenager in my fiction preferences, whether in shows or books.  HEAs are for pussies.  I need my love stories never satisfied and never happy ’til the bitter end, and sometimes not even then.

It’s a bitch when a show’s writer or book’s author decides to blow your ship to pieces.  Skyeward, for instance, as hopeful as its most dedicated fans were (me), just had their hopes dashed to pieces in the Agents of Shield mid-season finale.  Olicity fans (me) from Arrow probably aren’t going to see their ship sail in the long run.  It’s always a bummer when we identify so deeply with a couple as a representation of that something that touches us.  It’s not the same trigger with each of my personal ships, and I’ll be damned if I can understand some of them.

These Deep Thoughts bring me to the reason why I’m having a mini-rant.

I recently began the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas.  Since this is a book blog, I must say I heartily recommend it.  That being said, you might want to wait a couple years for the series to end, because four main novels into it doesn’t leave you feeling satisfied for the year that you have to wait for the next one.

Now, unbeknownst to me when I began reading this series, Celaena Sardothien is apparently the most shippable female character ever invented.  In the first book, Throne of Glass, there is the main love interest, Dorian.  Eventually it appears there is the possibility of a closer relationship with his best friend, Chaol as well.  I ate the first book up, and was totally on the Celorian bandwagon.  Chaol, for me, has always been a really boring character, and when I got around to the second book, Crown of Midnight, reading anything about him was like pulling teeth.  Which was pretty unfortunate because no longer is Celaena interested in Dorian…she has been falling in love with Chaol and now the readers need to shift gear into Chaolaena.  Full disclosure: I quit reading after the fifth chapter.

I may be a shipper for many random fandoms, but when fans (or authors) take a powerful female lead and reduce her viability as a character to who she is shipped with, it drives me a little crazy (hence this rant).  It’s part of why I’ve always admired the writers for Buffy–they never settled who Buffy chooses, if either Spike or Angel.  Because the show and story isn’t about her as one half of a couple with whomever; it’s about her, her growth, her tragedy, her redemption.  The love story is fun, but secondary.

Celaena Sardothien is a strong and powerful character, which is why I couldn’t stay away from the series for long.  When I had the opportunity to read Heir of Fire, I quickly found a recap of book 2 online and began reading book 3.  It was so refreshing.  This story is almost entirely about Celaena’s personal journey and transformation into the *spoiler alert* queen she is supposed to be.  There isn’t a central love interest, and the relationship she does develop with a male character is organic; a natural progression of mutual respect that occurs over time as she learns about herself, her fears, and her true desires with her life.    Heir of Fire is easily my favorite of the series, because Celaena’s mental shift into her real name and self, Aelin, is heartbreaking and the central battle of the storyline.

Thus, imagine my shock at discovering online that readers were “so bored,” and wanting “more Chaol!”  Did they even read the same book?  Celaena grew!  She’s Aelin now!  Why does she need someone who fears her power?  Of course Rowan (yes, there is yet another ship for us: Rowaelin) is in the next chapter of her progression–he just taught her literally everything she knows about magic!

Listen up, fellow shippers:  We love more than one person romantically in our lifetimes–why throw a tantrum when a writer decides to treat their characters as evolving creatures who can love more than once, or who can outgrow a love that was based on lies anyway?  Aelin may not even end up with Rowan.  And that’s okay, because this is HER story, not THEIR story.

I appreciate when writers shake up our expectations.  In a world of cookie-cutter movies and books, it’s always a pleasure to find an author who isn’t afraid of allowing his or her original expectations and visions to evolve.  So, thanks to the authors who provide our angst, which make us uncomfortable with their story lines, and who kill off characters we love (but not when it’s done for shock value).  You give this reader hope in a time of blandness.