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Garden of Shadows

GardenofShadows

I was never really into Twilight, Fifty Shades of Grey, or any series associated with the modern revival of smut fiction. But, dangit, I do enjoy some V.C. Andrews. Even though the characters are melodramatic and the plot nonsensical, I’m turning the page.  What does that say about story? Whether you’re reading a book, watching a movie, or listening to a pitch — the most important response you can feel as an audience member is to lean forward, ears perked, wondering what happens next. 

I found V.C. Andrews’s Garden of Shadows in a discount library bin somewhere in Orange County. I used spare change from the bottom of my purse. I had already read three of the Dollanger series (first book being the infamous Flowers in the Attic) and knew with this novel there would be at least some guarantee of that infectious can’t-put-it-down-even-though-I’m-ashamed-to-be-seen-reading-it feeling

In One Sentence: A gloomy family in a gloomy mansion foreshadow the future incestuous genetic dispositions to the Foxworth ancestry. 

Favorite Line: “Chapter 15: The Blackest of Days. — ‘Mama, I’ve become a woman!'” -p.207

Review: This book is addicting, up until it becomes very clear the downfall of all prequels. I already know what is going to happen. There may also be some consequences to the fact that part of this book is actually ghostwritten by Andrew Neiderman after V.C. Andrews’s death. The novel focuses on the evil grandmother from Flowers in the Attic‘s perspective as she tries to raise a family despite her evil, cheating, lying, scumbag husband. The biggest frustration was rooting for a narrator who in the end you can’t root for! There were so many ridiculous turns that were even a bit out there for an Andrews series (incest, I can handle. But avalanches?!) I wanted the narrator, Olivia, to rise up and realize her own power over her husband but alas. The prequel serves to explain the progression of Olivia into the villain she is in the first book but I wanted her to fight against her own fate more. It could have been more tragic, more powerful, maybe less like a V.C. Andrews book… Ugh. I did this to myself.

The Book Would Have Ended a Lot Sooner If: people didn’t constantly WANT to be miserable. 

V.C. Andrews, What We Can Learn:

It took seven years of writing–some nine novels and nearly twenty short stories–before [V.C. Andrews’s] first sale. “I wasn’t persistent about sending my manuscripts out. If they were rejected once, I thought, ‘Oh, that’s a complete failure,’ and I would put them away and begin a new one. Momentarily, I would think that I wasn’t going to write anymore, but then I would go right back to the typewriter and do it again.

“I just kept right on going. Every time I heard from an editor–and I did hear from them, not just receive form rejections–they would say, ‘If you get gutsy, you’ll be sold. You’re not gutsy enough.’ And I really didn’t know what they meant, to get on the gut level, so I began to think about it. I thought, ‘Well, I guess I’m writing around all of the difficult things that my mother would disapprove of.’ So once I brushed her off my shoulder and got gutsy enough, I sold. I decided that I would have to be embarrassed and write these things. That’s how simple it was. Now I don’t feel embarrassed at all.”

The reason for her success, Andrews says, is simple: “I think I tell a whopping good story. And I don’t drift away from it a great deal into descriptive material. I wanted my new book to be published in hardcover, and my editor said that if I wrote in a more boring style, I would go into hardcover. When I read, if a book doesn’t hold my interest about what’s going to happen next, I put it down and don’t finish it. So I’m not going to let anybody put one of my books down and not finish it. My stuff is a very fast read.

Read the whole article: Face of Fear, 1985

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The Kiss

TheKiss

Sometimes I find memoirs more captivating than fiction. It’s not just a matter of truth is stranger than fiction, it also has a lot to do with voice. It’s my favorite part of writing — and reading! — to get a new perspective from a unique voice. Kathryn Harrison’s The Kiss stood out to me on the Goodwill shelves because it was 1) a first hand account of a consensual incestuous relationship that didn’t involve Mackenzie Phillips and 2) a paperback book selling for $5.99?! Isn’t that a little steep, Goodwill?

I bought it. I read it. And even now that it’s over, I’m fascinated at the writer’s ability to find her voice and not be afraid of the consequences.

In One Sentence: Young woman develops a sexual relationship with her once absent father.

Favorite Line: “‘You know,’ [my mother] says, pointing, ‘this isn’t about you. It’s about me.’… She means the love my father possesses, the trembling hands and hot eyes. All of what  she has notices and is frightened by. So inappropriate, so immoderate. So abnormal to love me so completely: that’s what I hear her say. What I hear is that not only does my mother not love or admire me, but she will find a way to reinterpret my father’s love to make it all her own.” – p. 98

Review: Harrison takes on the task of telling us all about the skeletons in her closet and she succeeds not only in delivering a masterful writing style, but also feeling totally authentic. Overall, a strong, compelling voice. It jumps around slightly through time but keeps a consistent emotional arc that works wells to drive the reader forward. And, it’s a quick read. Besides the strangeness of the subject matter, the way prose is broken into short vignettes somehow makes it hard to put down. There is one hiccup about the story that would be more of a critical note in fiction, but in memoir really has no way to change. You get the feeling that Harrison had some agency to change the situation sooner than she actually did. Then again, since so much of writing memoir is about the power of hindsight, I got the feeling she realized that as well once she got the words to paper.

The Book Would Have Ended a Lot Sooner If: Harrison’s parents had never divorced. Seriously.

Artwork that Stole the Title:

Or maybe Harrison stole the title. Matches the theme of the story, depending on how or if you interpret art.

kisspainting

The Kiss by Gustav Klimt

 

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Filed under Non-Fiction