I just read a great story...

I had the wonderful luck to read an ARC of a coming novel by Delilah Devlin: Darkness Burning.

Here's her blurb to whet your appetite:

Beware the place where darkness rules and bloodlust is the ultimate aphrodisiac…

An apocalyptic storm has transformed New Orleans into a city of lawless terror—and Mikaela Jones is standing in the center of the nightmare. A beautiful, courageous journalist with a mysterious past, she sees monsters prowling all around her. But the gravest peril of all awaits Mikaela when she is taken captive by a mesmerizing male who is not mortal—a breathtaking creature who arouses the fire in her blood, making her burn for the exquisite erotic ecstasy of total surrender.

For seven centuries Alex Broussard has been waiting for the chance to free himself from the threat of the matriarchal undead society that seeks his destruction. And now, finally, that time is at hand—until the opportunity is ruined by the stunning, innocent, human interloper Alex is compelled to rescue from certain doom. Now they are joined, for good or ill, as they give in to the burning need that neither can resist—risking everything to experience the ultimate sensual release as the darkness rises all around them.

You might have guessed that I wouldn't be talking about it if I didn't like it.

For one thing, every book by Delilah is worth reading. With one caveat: she writes hot!

If you like tame stories, don't go there.

But if you like a wonderful, sensual celebration of life and love, amazing storytelling, great plotting, powerful worldbuilding, and delightful writing, try her!

Darkness Burning is a fantasy set in post-storm New Orleans, filled with vampires, demons, and other supernatural creatures. Don't expect any Hollywood monsters in Delilah's books, though. Her worlds are full of well-researched mythology, of legends based on ancient archetypes and myths that are the very foundation of our imagination.

Her characters are powerful and complex. No cardboard villains here, or white-hat heroes. Good deeds may have unintended repercussions, and sometimes, you must rely on your very enemy at a moment of need. In the best tradition of swashbuckling intrigues, Delilah Devlin creates a larger-than-life cast of characters with motivations that peel away like onion skins. And once you reach the core...

You'll just have to read it. Because Delilah only promises more at each turn of the road.

And you will want more, because you will fall in love with her characters from the first page, and in lust at the second. Love, lust, need, irresistible attraction, and unstoppable fate mix and weave together to form the lifeblood of Darkness Burning. You can never fully trust your allies, and you must never close your ears to your enemy.

Only love is a certain beacon in darkness.

Or so you think.

I don't usually do politics, but...

My husband directed me to this item on his news blog:

Russian Notes
Bloomberg:
"Yale University, which displays a Van Gogh painting seized after the
Bolshevik revolution of 1918, was sued by a man who claims he’s the
descendant of the former Russian owner and the artwork rightfully
belongs to him."

Of course, I followed the link, which took me to this reported response by Yale: Yale, which sued Konowaloff in March seeking a court ruling that it’s the rightful owner, says sales of artwork
“nationalized” by the Soviet Union were valid

Now I have to admit I didn't do any further research, and therefore I won't assign blame or comment on the validity of Yale's rights to the painting.

I do want to draw a picture, however.

Say you've worked very hard to be able to afford the kind of home you've always dreamed of. You fill it with the kind of artwork you desire, honestly and rightfully purchased by your hard-earned money.

Then a new administration comes into power and declares (I do not mean passes a law, which would take years of debate and would never roll in the United States), but just declares that all art is the property of the government. Regardless of who paid for it, of who labored to acquire it, of who loved it enough to buy it.

And the entire world approves.

How fair is that?

Not fair at all. No one approved when Hitler did it. The entire world seeks to put that wrong to rights.

But it's OK when it's the Soviet Union who did it? Why?

And if you're wondering why I'm so fired up about the issue, well, it's because the same Soviet Union stole all of my grandparents property, reduced them to begging, and ultimately caused my baby aunt's death by hunger when they exiled my grandparents to a frozen labor camp.

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Book Review: The Left Hand of Darkness

I dropped by Skhye Moncrief's blog today because she has yet another cool research book suggestion, Kinship and Gender.

It made me think of Ursula K. LeGuin's novel The Left Hand of Darkness. I commented on that on Skhye's blog, but I couldn't say much in a comment. And the book deserves a bit more.

The way genres cross today within books, we should dare navigate from our familiar aisles in the bookstore and explore the less familiar areas. If you like world-building and emotional stories, then The Left Hand of Darkness is a good candidate for a change.

It's a classical sci-fi novel in the best tradition, combining a wonderful, well-told story, strong characters, emotional scenes, and a deep philosophical subtext that is raised through storytelling and character development.

The Left Hand of Darkness is about the clash of cultures, about misunderstanding and intolerance, but also about friendship, love, and discovery. It is about honor, fidelity, and devotion. It is, ultimately, about the victory of what is essentially human within us, once the veneer of civilization is stripped away, and cultural bounds are made irrelevant by the demands of a struggle for sheer survival.

It is also about gender identity and how we perceive ourselves -- or don't -- through the eyes of an alien people whose physical gender is not as visible, or as determined, as ours.

It is also a love story, although not in the traditional sense. But then, it is science-fiction, and sci-fi readers do expect something "untraditional" in their tales. It is, however, powerful and compelling, emotional, and it will make you think and feel for the charactes for a long time after you turn the last page.

From Barnes and Noble, a short synopsis: In The Left Hand of Darkness, an Earth ambassador, Genly Ai, is sent to the planet of Gethen, whose inhabitants are androgynous. Through his relationship with a native, Estraven, Ai gains understanding both of the consequences of his fixed sexual orientation and of Gethenian life. As in many of her works, Le Guin incorporates a social message in her science fiction tale.

Guest Blogging

Here it is. I'm stopping by Skhye Moncrief's blog today. No long post here, because I've posted myself out there.

Life, the Universe, and Everything

...yes, it's a quote, but sometimes, that's all we can do.

It hasn't been a very productive week on the writing front. It's not that I'm stalled, but life has been seriously interfering with the craft. But on the plus side, I'm working on a trailer for Violetta Caprice, I will make an appearance this Friday on Skhye Moncrief's blog, I promised to give a workshop on Showing and Telling to a writer group, and I promised a workshop on book trailers to our local RWA chapter.

For the last two workshops, you would have to either be a member, or travel to San Antonio to attend in person. Of course, if there's some real interest, I might be talked into turning the in-person workshop into an online workshop/tutorial.

In the meantime, look out of the very hands-on Blurb Writing workshop coming in June, and then for the long version of the Show and Tell workshop coming in July. A full 3 weeks on the subject! Exercises! Tips! Revelations!

(Am I beginning to sound like Barnum? No? Not yet? Pity. He was a great salesman.)

And all the while, free for your pleasure and entertainment, there will be visitors right here on Alien Places, bringing prizes and delights! Come discover Sandy Lender and Donna Marie Rogers in July. Sandy will be giving away an autographed, hard cover, first edition of Choices Meant for Gods each week of her blog tour to one lucky commenter. Donna Marie will give away a free download of Meant to Be to one lucky commenter (to be determined by random drawing).

That won't be all! I promise to host more gift-giving authors! Not to mention that in addition to the prizes they'll bring they will be speaking of their craft or lives. Or writing some fascinating article. Or some combination thereof. Whatever it is, it promises to be... something!

So come back and meet someone new, or say hi to an old friend!

You're bound to discover a new great read!

Actors in Roles

Some writers cast real actors in the roles of their characters. They do this with as much care as the casting directors on big Hollywood production teams. They take into consideration the look of the actor, and the mannerisms, and whatever else it is that inspires them about the actor and makes their characters come better to life.

I don't do that.

Why?

I've wondered about that. I still do.

The thing is, while I can appreciate an actor's skill, and while, when I was a teenager, I used to do all the heart-thumping swooning of your average fan-girl over some actors, it was ever only a phase. It didn't take me long to realize that I was more interested in the fantasy I built than in either the real person or in the legend created by movie studios.

Today, if I particularly enjoy watching an actor, it's an actor in a specific role.

Why?

Because I enjoy the complete fantasy. The look of the character and the personality of the character as portrayed by the actor with his peculiar mannerisms -- even better if he's good enough to develop specific mannerisms for a given character.

Oh yeah, I'm talking male actors. Hey, it's my fantasy, isn't it?

What would I do if I met the actor in person? Would I be impressed? Awed? Fan-girl dumbstruck?

Probably not the latter. I hope I outgrew that awkward stage. But impressed and awed? Possibly. I don't have any acting skills, and I'd want to know all about what it takes to get into a character's mind and project a non-me onto a screen (or stage) like that.

So would I enjoy a romantic dinner with Hugh Jackman?

Yes, but probably not the way you imagine it. I'd want to quizz him about his craft.

Really.

Did you still have illusions that writers are not strange?

There are Aliens... and then there are aliens....

And then there are aliens like me.

I almost don't consider myself one. Really. You couldn't tell from my writing. Besides, I've been well trained... I mean, educated in the ways of American pop culture by my husband and my kids. I get most references, even some pretty obscure ones. If I didn't tell you about my Russian background, you wouldn't know just from reading my writing.

But then something happens. And I really, really feel that I am truly an immigrant.

Now don't get me wrong. I dont' feel alienated. I don't feel like an outsider. In fact, I never felt more the sense of homecoming than that one day when my plane was slowly descending towards Texas and I was following the flight plan on the onboard GPS. And I was flying back from Paris, from visiting my brothers, and from attending one of my nieces' wedding.

Yup. I'm certainly home. I chose to be home here, and there's not one day I'm not amazed at just how home I feel. But that's a post for another day.

What brought on the post about aliens?

The prom tradition.

Yes. That.

It's that season, and my oldest child is a senior in High School.

It's not the social dance gathering part of the event.

I grew up in Paris in the Russian emigre community, and we had our share of formal annual events with their formal and old-fashioned dances. In formal dresses. With a display of formal, old-fashioned manners.

It's not that.

It's the school event part of it, and the whole mystique of it, the buildup, the talk, the memories everyone seems to share.

The kids were cute. Sweet. They went to the prom as a group, they stayed together, and I was happy about that. After all, each of them is headed for a different college and has college and career plans.

But still. Some part of me just doesn't get it. Some part of me is standing on the sidelines and watching it happening, and is bemused. The other kids' mothers are so excited, so thrilled that their own children are going through this... rite of passage.

Ah yes, that's it. I'm not a member of this tribe. I've been adopted, but I was too old to undergo certain rites of passage.

Like the prom.

So even though this vibrant, friendly, warm, American tribe has adopted me (and I, it), I am still the "adopted outsider" for having missed the rites of passage that would have made me an insider through and through.

My kids don't have that problem. I also think they get a perverse enjoyment out of their alien mother's occasional confusion.

Teenagers!