Sunday, September 8, 2013

WOOL Gathering...


Every once in a while, when I least expect it, I will read a book that grabs me by the seat of the pants, pulls me out of my chair and throws me on my ass…

Figuratively speaking of course.

I’m talking about a story so original, so well written, so exceptionally executed that it makes you sit straight up in your chair and take notice. These are the stories that set fire to your imagination to such a degree that you almost can’t escape them. Thoughts of them creep into your mind in idle moments during the day and slip into your dreams at night. It's the last thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep and the first thing on your mind when you wake up the next morning. It's the book you can't put down, the novel whose pages you can't stop turning, the story you become so engrossed in to the point that your responsibilities in the real world, like working for a living, start to get in the way of your reading.

I'm talking about books like author Hugh Howey’s “Silo Saga”… “WOOL”, “SHIFT” and just released, “DUST”. To be perfectly honest, I haven't been this excited about a set of books in years and I hope I can do them justice here without spoiling it for anyone who hasn't yet read the saga.

By now most people familiar with the “WOOLiverse” also know the story of how Hugh Howey self-published the first part of the series as a 40+ page short story in July of 2011 using Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing app. He charged next to nothing for it and did nothing to promote it. Readers found it, loved it, told their friends about it and begged for more. Hugh readily complied and that initial story led to 4 more parts, all now collected into the “WOOL Omnibus”. WOOL’s success led Hugh to write a set of 3 prequel stories now compiled into the “SHIFT Omnibus” and folks still couldn’t get enough. The icing on the cake was just released in the form of “DUST”, Hugh’s final installment in the saga and perhaps one of the most eagerly awaited eBooks in recent memory. It quickly rose to the top of just about every best seller list within 24 hours of its release.

I must admit however that I am arriving to this party a bit late. As a voracious reader, especially of Sci-Fi, I only found out about WOOL earlier this year through a modest Washington Post book review when the omnibus version was released in print. I don’t remember many of the details of the review although I remember it was quite favorable. I became intrigued by the interesting back story of how the saga took off on Kindle and the concept of an entire human community living deep underground in a buried silo in a post-apocalyptic, dystopian future where just thinking about the world “outside” is taboo and actually going outside is a death sentence.

So I added WOOL to my “to read” section of Goodreads and thought little more about it for the next couple of months although it was never far from the back of my mind. Then just before I left on vacation in June, I cleared my reading list, downloaded the WOOL Omnibus to my Kindle and I have never been the same again. Let's just say that it was a good thing that I did this during vacation when I had plenty of time to get lost in this book. I couldn't put it down.

It's a rare gift to be able to write well and make a living at it. It is a rarer talent indeed when an author has the ability to capture a reader so thoroughly and manage to do it within the first few paragraphs of a book. That has only happened to me twice before in my lifetime and I have read a LOT of books in more than half a century. Post-apocalyptic fiction is also not my usual cup of tea but Hugh not only had me nibbling at the hook with his entire concept, he'd set the hook and had reeled me in before I was more than a half dozen pages into the first part, “Holston”, which comprises the entirety of that first story published in 2011. In hindsight I can imagine this story would have made a magnificent episode of “The Twilight Zone” with its surprising twist at the end and its “film noir” feel.  In fact, based on the Silo Saga alone, I think that Mr. Howey could easily stand beside some of our greatest authors who also wrote for that TV series; Rod Serling, Richard Matheson and Ray Bradbury to name a few.

By the time I had finished WOOL #2, “Perfect Gauge”, I began to see what all the excitement was about and had bought “SHIFT” in anticipation. Reading WOOL was like peeling an onion; it is full of little plot twists, surprise reveals and heart-stopping “oh my gawd” moments that blew my mind at every turn and kept me going, dying to find out what happened next. And in spite of its dystopian setting, WOOL is first and foremost a story about people, regular Joe Schmoes like the rest of us, but struggling daily through life in a rigid and stifling society, living and dying in an underground world they are only beginning to realize is not the way humanity was intended to live. The principle characters are well developed and there are plenty to both love and hate here, from the tender love story of Mayor Jahns and Deputy Marnes, to the “tough as nails” mechanic-come-sheriff, Juliette and the hateful leader of IT, Bernard, who particularly struck a nerve with me since I actually work in the IT field.

It took me a bit longer to read “SHIFT” but only because I was back to work at that point and couldn't put aside the time I wanted to devote to it. SHIFT is the prequel that tells the story of how humanity, or what's left of it, has ended up in this situation and it ends about the same point as WOOL does, merging the two stories and timelines together and setting the stage for “DUST”. Like WOOL before it, SHIFT is full of surprises as the story unfolds and I must admit I found it a trifle confusing at times but then the story is told through the eyes of Donald, the main character and the reader is basically discovering the truth and magnitude of what’s happened to the world along with him. Honestly, reading SHIFT was more than a bit frightening too and a little more difficult for me to read personally for the same reason. As a child of the Cold War era, with vivid memories of the Cuban Missile Crisis, air raid sirens and “duck and cover” drills, reading SHIFT chilled me to the bone with its underlying theme of political leaders in positions of power, harboring and acting on their twisted visions of destiny, legacy and purpose while the rest of us are either consciously turning a blind eye or completely clueless.

DUST, the latest installment just released in August, is the crowning conclusion of Hugh's portion of the saga and it certainly doesn’t disappoint as so many sequels so often do. A masterpiece in itself, DUST is a very satisfying and fitting end to the series. It is every bit as engaging and riveting as WOOL and SHIFT and it ends on a very hopeful note but unfortunately not without a few heart-rending losses along the way. It was also every bit a roller coaster ride as its predecessors and every bit as enjoyable. And although it took me only a few days to read it completely, I went back and reread a few sections again because frankly I didn’t want it to end.

But in many ways, the saga isn’t ending at all. In a rare move on the part of an author, at least in my experience, Hugh has freely and generously opened his creation to his fans and is encouraging and wholeheartedly championing fan fiction based on his work. By partnering with one of Amazon’s latest endeavors, Kindle Worlds, he’s allowing these budding authors to actually get paid for their stories set in his universe, inspiring them to self-publish their work in the very same fashion he did with that first WOOL story. Hugh has not just invited others to play in his sandbox and welcomed them with open arms, he’s also handed them the pail and shovel, then stepped out of the sandbox altogether [for now at least].

And by all accounts, his generous spirit has borne much fruit. At last count there were at least a dozen or more Silo stories/books/novellas out there on Kindle Worlds, most of them doing well and climbing the eBook genre best seller lists. Hugh advertises and posts links to many of them on his own web site and is equally generous with his advice and praise. And along the way, he’s also developed a fiercely loyal fan base [and I now count myself among them]. Imagine my surprise when I went searching on Facebook for what I expected to be the author’s fan page and found instead, Hugh’s personal FB page and that he was accepting Friend Requests from complete strangers. He accepted my request in a matter of a couple hours and I had the pleasure of sharing the Release Day excitement for DUST along with the author and about 4,500 [and counting] of his closest fans/friends. And as he visits various conventions and book events, he frequently arranges “meet ups” for his fans in attendance so they can hang out for a few hours and get to know him and each other. I sincerely hope to have that opportunity someday.

In closing I can only hope my enthusiasm for Hugh Howey’s work will encourage others to give it a try. For any lover of truly exceptional science fiction, these books are not to be missed. Based on my love of WOOL, SHIFT and DUST, I am eager to read some of Hugh’s earlier books and have already bought several of them. I am also looking forward to returning to the WOOLiverse by reading all of the fan fiction I can get my hands on. And I can definitely see myself revisiting the entire Silo saga, again and again. Although I have now bought all 3 Silo books in paperback [one treasured copy of DUST signed by Hugh himself] it’s a good thing I bought them first as eBooks because like so many of my other favorite novels, I can easily see myself reading and rereading the paper copies until they fall apart!

Sunday, August 4, 2013

After They’re Gone, Will That Make Me Only Half as Wise?


“I’m afraid they have to come out…”
I stared at my dentist like a deer caught in the headlights and my stomach did a gut-wrenching somersault when Dr. P uttered those fateful words at my recent semi-annual checkup.  After forty-odd years of living with all four of my wisdom teeth I had just been told that two of them had to go.  With my face in my hands I reluctantly agreed, made the appointment for the extraction for a month later before I changed my mind and left the dentist’s office in shock.  On the drive home I silently cursed the new dental hygienist, whose name I didn't even know, and whose over-zealous cleaning had revealed the decay at the back of my two upper wisdom teeth that led to the fatal proclamation.  Once I got home and shared the verdict and my subsequent distress with family and friends via Facebook, I received many sympathetic yet calm assurances that everything would be OK and things would turn out fine. 
Riiiight….
How can I explain my sentimental attachment to these wisdom teeth?  It’s almost been a matter of pride over the years to be able to say that I never had to go through the usual rite of passage of having them removed as most people do when they reach young adulthood.  And how can I explain the fact that a grown woman is literally terrified of having these teeth removed?  I haven’t had to have any teeth pulled in almost fifty years and my memories of the experience are not pleasant.
I have had a love/hate relationship with my teeth my entire life.  On one hand, I am very grateful that dental science and hygiene have progressed to the point that I still have all of my adult teeth and will likely keep all of them [or almost all of them] until they put me six feet under.  At this point in his life, my Dad had a full set of dentures.  I am also grateful for great healthcare benefits that allow me to care for my teeth with regular semi-annual checkups.  On the other hand however, caring for my teeth over the years has been a royal pain in the… mouth.  I have endured more pain and grief over these choppers than I care to remember.
From the time I was old enough to visit a dentist for the first time, I was told that my mouth was a dental disaster area: two teeth missing since birth, two so malformed in the jaw that they would never erupt, a horrendous overbite and a set of buck teeth that would have made a gopher proud, and double teeth, one in front of the other like a shark.  For years, the “before” plaster cast of my mouth occupied a prominent place in my orthodontist’s office among a rogue’s gallery of his worst cases. 
I was nine years old when my family dentist, Dr. S insisted that I needed braces and my parents thankfully agreed though they could little afford the expense.  However before the braces could be put on, Dr. S and the orthodontist both agreed the remaining eight baby teeth had to come out.  No sense putting braces on teeth that were destined to fall out anyway. 
On the day of the appointment to extract the first four teeth, a terrified young girl sat in an over-sized dentist chair with a mouth full of cotton waiting for the moment of truth.  Dr. S went for the first tooth… and in spite of his gentle assurances and a hefty dose of Novocain, it hurt like Hell.  Seriously... I once worked in a butcher shop and cut the tip of my finger off... three separate times... and it didn't hurt as much as having these teeth pulled.  I let out a blood curdling scream that surely cleared out his waiting room, bit his finger and immediately dissolved into a quivering puddle of tears.  At least that is the way I remember it.  Dr. S managed to get the tooth out, as well as a second one but perhaps fearing for the safety of his remaining digits, he finally gave up and sent me upstairs to the oral surgeon. 
Dr. G fared only a little better with me.  The anesthesia of choice at the time was ether gas and while it knocked me out sufficiently so he could safely extract the remaining teeth without sacrificing any fingers, it also nauseated me to the point of vomiting and apparently I also got to laughing and kicking during the procedure.  I’m sure he was very happy he only had to see me once.
When my adult teeth finally came in, it was back to the orthodontist.  For $750 a set, a princely sum back in the ‘60s, which my middle-class parents paid off in installments of $10 or $20 per visit, I joined the ranks of kids everywhere who have had to endure the predicable taunts from classmates by being called “metal mouth”. 
I spent the next twelve years wearing those braces… In fact I wore them so long that orthodontic technology improved to the point where the type of braces became outdated and obsolete… three times.  In addition to the monthly checkups and periodic tightening of the braces, I also had to occasionally endure a parade of dental students peering into my gaping mouth to see the antique appliances I was currently sporting.
Although it seemed as though my orthodontist was perfectly content to send me to my grave wearing the braces, I finally called it quits when I turned twenty-one.  I was convinced they were the reason my love life [or lack thereof] was so abysmal [they weren't but there was only so much you could do with a shy, geeky college student during the age of disco music] and I told my orthodontist to remove them.  When they finally came off after twelve years, I actually felt naked. 
My wisdom teeth started erupting about the same time and although I was terrified at the prospect of having them removed, the orthodontist assured me that I had plenty of room and as long as they came in reasonably straight, I could keep them.  I hope he wasn't insinuating that I have a big mouth.
So here I am forty-plus years later, facing the fact that after all of this time, I have to part with two of my wisdom teeth.  We've been through a lot together… over the years they have been coddled and cared for, drilled and filled, but it has become an effort of diminishing returns.  Doc P. says they need to go while they are still reasonably intact.  So in less than three weeks, ready or not, they are coming out.
I've asked Doc if I can have them once they've been extracted.  He gave me a strange look but assured me that if I want to I can take them home with me.  I’m not exactly sure what I will do with them… but maybe, just maybe I’ll hold onto them… and when the time comes…make arrangements for them to join me six feet under….


Friday, July 5, 2013

Ready or Not, Here I Blog...

OK, so this is my first attempt to blog.  This self proclaimed "geek goddess" finally joined Facebook a few short years ago and I am now jumping with both feet into the blogosphere.  Who knows where this will lead.  :-)

Of course I am showing my age with my choice of Blog Title.  But Crystalline Dreamer has been my moniker of choice for almost 30 years.  I was a geology major in college many, many moons ago and it is also the pen name I use when writing.

So... Ready or not, here I am... Blogging. Not sure I will produce anything worth reading but I will go where the spirit... And whimsy may lead me.