Whenever I read a good review of a book I’m attracted to, I’ll add the title to my reading list for future reference. Don Lee’s The Collective had been on this list for a couple of years, and I couldn’t remember why I’d wanted to read it. The title makes it seem like a spy novel. The Collective is far from that.

Don Lee’s book is about three Asian-Americans who meet while attending college in Minnesota, become friends, and remain friends until one of them, Joshua, commits suicide. (This is not a spoiler. The suicide occurs in the first few pages.) The story is narrated by Eric, who is a third-generation Korean-American. Eric does not identify much with his Korean roots, is attracted to blond women, and tells Joshua he has never experienced racism. Joshua, adopted by a  Jewish couple, is proudly Korean-American and tells his friend that racism is rampant in American society: “You’ve never had someone ask, ‘What are you?’ or ‘Where you from?’ or ‘What’s your nationality?’ because there’s no fucking way you can be a real American? You’ve never had a kid pull his eyes slanty  at you or some asshole tell you it’s National Hate Chinese Week? You’ve never had anyone tell you your English is pretty good or ask you to ‘chop chop,’ hurry it up?” Eric disagrees with Joshua until he and his friends become victims of a racial incident on campus. Joshua awakens Eric’s sense of pride in his heritage, yet Eric feels that Joshua is too sensitive about racial issues and is divisive.

Years after they’ve graduated from college, the three friends (less emphasis is placed on the third friend, Jessica) form The Collective, a group of Asian-American artists. But even within this group, Joshua is divisive. He is idealistic, yearning for a society that no longer denigrates his culture, that recognizes his novels as  mainstream works rather than as ethnic literature. He offends a fellow writer in the group who always writes about white characters. He tells her that an Asian-American novelist should only write about Asian-Americans.

I very much identify with the characters in this novel and how they struggle with the issue of racial identity. I fall somewhere between Joshua and Eric in terms of how I view my own ethnicity. I know that I have been a victim of racism, yet I don’t view everything through a racial lens as Joshua does.

This novel touched me in a unique way. I have never read a book that discusses racial identity in such bold terms from an Asian-American viewpoint. I find the book particularly interesting because I am currently writing a novel that deals with racial identity from a Mexican-American perspective. I wish there were more novels like  The Collective. I can relate to the characters in this novel because of our shared experiences as ethnic minorities, however different our cultures might be. It’s a unique experience to see someone like myself in the literature I read, but there is not enough ethnic diversity among fictional characters, unfortunately. As an indie author, I am doing my part to change that.

I’m a political animal.  I constantly listen to, watch, or read political news. It’s an especially exciting time as our presidential elections are occurring, but, for me, it is also a frustrating one. The back-and-forth name-calling, accusations, lies, and, frankly, some childish behavior, is an embarrassment for our country, considering these candidates are running for the highest office in the land. During difficult times, personal or otherwise, reading fiction is an escape for me. I can enter make-believe worlds and get to know make-believe people. However, one type of fiction I mostly avoid is the political story. I rarely read political novels, perhaps because the stories can seem too real, too close to reality to allow for escape.

When I was in school, I read the classics, The Last Hurrah, The Ninth Wave, and 1984, all grim stories of the political world. Perhaps that’s when I decided I would avoid this particular genre. More recently I read Atlas Shrugged after perusing a newspaper article that surveyed individuals about their favorite books. The most oft-mentioned title was Atlas Shrugged. Curious, I had to read it to find out why people love this book. I was disappointed. I found it dull and preachy, with paper-thin characters.

So, then . . . Why on earth did I write a novel with political overtones? Hmm. Good question. A few years ago a political scandal was exposed in the city of Bell, California. The electorate of that city was cheated out of funds that should have gone to projects that would benefit the public, but instead were greedily sucked up by the politicians. The story left a bad taste in my mouth and stirred up my anger. I decided to channel my emotions into a story. The politics do not comprise the major storyline of my novel. The theme concerns duplicity, how we all keep secrets, big and small, from those we love or from strangers, and how these secrets can ruin our relationships and even ourselves. Politics seemed like the perfect platform on which to build the plot for my novel. After all, what’s more duplicitous than politics?

I’ve blogged before about how different people can have different reactions to the same book. I was again reminded of this when I finished Jessica Knoll’s Luckiest Girl Alive, and then scanned the reviews on Goodreads. Wow. Reviews of the book vary from one and two stars to five stars. There are rave reviews and abysmal reviews of the same book. While this in general is not unusual, it is for this particular book, which has gained vast popularity and is already on the way to becoming a motion picture.

I read this book after if was highly recommended by two librarian friends, and I was not disappointed with it. I tried to understand why those who gave it poor ratings so fervently disliked it. Their complaints ranged from dislike of the protagonist, an unbelievable plot, distracting stream-of-consciousness writing style, and too many detailed violent acts. One reviewer even opined that the protagonist was too stupid to be believed because of certain actions she took when she was fourteen years old. I, on the other hand, enjoyed the book very much. Yes, it’s violent (but, I say, it has to be, because a major plot point involves a rape); yes, the young girl does make stupid decisions (but, I say, she’s a kid…kids sometimes make very bad decisions as do adults, on occasion); and, yes,the protagonist is not likable (but, I say, for good reason–she has been traumatized by horrific events in her past). I do agree with reviewers who complain about the writing style, which is somewhat distracting.

I like the book for its message about the place of women in our society. Women are often made to feel their ambitions, brains, and desires are insignificant, that their more important role is to play second fiddle to the men in their lives. The protagonist’s struggle to overcome the challenges of her past made it a compelling tale for me.

As individuals we react to the stories we read based on how we relate to the elements in those stories: the characters, the plots, the writing style, etc. I try to carefully select my reading material based on reviews or recommendations from friends. But even if a friend shares interests similar to mine, it doesn’t guarantee we’ll like the same book.

A few days ago a dear friend lost her beloved dog to a violent attack by a much bigger dog. It broke my heart to witness my friend’s pain. I also loved the little dog and have shed many tears over her death. My dog passed away almost three years ago, and dealing with that loss was one of the most difficult experiences I’ve suffered. I’ve never even been able to continue reading a book or watching a movie if the dog suffers and/or dies (no Old Yeller for me).

Sometimes I pay a little  too much attention to the dog in a story, especially if the human characters aren’t very interesting. I always hope that the dog will stay safe. A few weeks ago I read The Widow Waltz by Sally Koslow. I have to confess that I selected it because of the dog pictured on the cover. The dog didn’t play a major role in the story, but I enjoyed the scenes in which he appeared. I liked the dog in Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, who added a measure of warmth to a somewhat dark tale. In Rebecca, the main character spent some scenes walking the dog, Jasper. I don’t remember if Jasper survived the climactic scene, but he probably did because a big deal was made out of the fact that mean Mrs. Danvers was the only one who refused to leave the house. And I can’t forget Buck in Call of the Wild, or Toby, Sherlock Holmes’ buddy.

When an author writes a dog into a book, I presume it’s because she has a dog, but that’s not necessarily true. A dog can be integral to the plot. I wrote two dachshunds into my second novel, Silence, Please, but they don’t play big parts in the plot. However, they are instrumental in one scene where the protagonist meets someone who will become important to her.

I love dogs even more than I love books, and that’s saying a lot.

I am about to publish my second novel, Silence, Please, a story of political corruption in a small California desert city, and how it affects the lives of the residents, three women in particular. I’ve worked on this book for over three and a half years and now feel as if I’ve earned another college degree. It’s fun writing novels, but it’s also very hard work.

As I decide on the type of book I want to write, I try to steer clear of imitating one of the hundreds of plots I’ve read over the years. When I started writing my first novel, My Doormat Days, a major concern was that I might be repeating storylines that have been used time and again. I almost let this fear put a stop to my writing. Thanks to my husband, that didn’t happen. He told me that if I write from the heart, my novel will truly be unique because no one else has lived my life or experienced my emotions. I continued with the novel and poured my heart into it. Today I feel that my novels are an extension of myself.

I’m always surprised whenever a book drives me to tears. When that happens (as it did with Take This Man by Brando Skyhorse, for example),  I know the author has succeeded in drawing me into his/her story. The author gave a piece of her/his heart in the creation of the book.

I hope that Silence, Please will gain an audience of readers because it has something important to say about the resilience of humans, and the importance of speaking out against the abuse of power, be it political or sexual. It also gives the reader a behind-the-scenes look at what goes on in public libraries, valuable institutions that are too often underappreciated. My goal is not to make big bucks off this book (though that would be a great bonus). My goal is to share this story so that readers might enjoy and relate in some way to the message it is conveying.

Without intending to, I read, back-to-back, two books with protagonists based on actual people. All the Stars in the Heavens, by Adriana Trigiani, is the fictionalized story of Loretta Young, who had a baby out of wedlock, fathered by Clark Gable. Shirley, by Susan Scarf Merrell, features the author Shirley Jackson as a main character.

I enjoyed both books but couldn’t help wondering about the accuracy of the character depictions. I wondered if Loretta Young was truly the hard-driven, ambitious actress portrayed, and if she was truly in love with Clark Gable as told in the book. As for Shirley, I speculated about the veracity of Shirley Jackson’s psychological weaknesses and her philandering husband. Of course these are novels, so the authors have license to create events, character behaviors, and so on. However, I couldn’t help thinking about the real people these characters are based on. As I read, I occasionally googled the names of some of the minor characters, also based on actual persons, to learn more about them. While googling, I came across articles that referred to Loretta Young’s claim, repeated to the media, after her death, by her daughter-in-law, that she had been date-raped by Clark Gable. That colored my reading of the novel. I could not put aside that information and immerse myself in the fictional depiction of Young and Gable as ardent lovers. It’s not the fault of the author. I think it’s a tricky thing to depict a character based on a real person, especially one who has died only recently. Some of their children and relatives are probably still alive. How does an author take liberties with the lives of these famous individuals while there are still people living who knew them personally? (Of course, an author could interview such individuals, but that does not appear to have been the case in either one of these books.)

I am seriously considering writing an historical novel. If I do undertake this challenging effort, I will avoid using any actual historical figures, unless they are long dead (e.g. George Washington) and only play minor roles in the story. I wouldn’t feel comfortable trying to bring to life someone who recently existed. This is not to denigrate Adriana Trigiani or Susan Scarf Merrell, who wrote good books with good characters. With her depiction of Shirley Jackson, Merrell especially sparked my interest in reading more about this intriguing author. Thanks to these two authors, Loretta Young and Shirley Jackson can continue to be remembered, or be introduced to readers who have never heard of them.

“Books fill my days. Not to mention my bedroom, my living room, my dining room and my closet.”

The above is a meme that Goodreads tweeted a few days ago. While I agree that books fill my days, my living space is not cluttered with reading material, other than the novel(s) I’m currently reading. I’ve never hoarded books, perhaps because as a librarian I had access to the titles I wanted to read. For a book lover, it’s a fortunate position to be in.

However, I do have a collection of books that is meaningful to me: volumes signed by the authors. I especially enjoy attending author readings and later standing in line to buy a copy of the book, meet the writer, and get an autograph.

Though I also have favorite books that I return to from time to time, I don’t own all of these. I did recently purchase a copy of Caramelo by Sandra Cisneros to read a second time. It’s a story I treasure, so I will keep it in my collection. I’m now in the habit of purchasing e-books and have quite a collection on my iPad. It’s an easy way to store favorite works but somehow lacks the intimacy of the actual book in hand. Regardless, books are like friends; I  choose carefully which ones I want to keep close.

Recently my husband and I moved one-hundred miles from the desert to the sea. We had lived in the desert for six years but ultimately found we are more suited to sea breezes than the blazing summer heat of Palm Springs. Though I won’t miss the heat, I will miss, probably more than anything else, the group of writers I connected with while living in the desert.

When I first began to write a novel, I didn’t attend classes to learn the craft. It was an impromptu effort brought about by the cabin fever I was suffering during one of those blazing hot summers. It wasn’t until a year later that a writer friend, who lives across the country, advised me to try a writers group. She explained that there is much to be gained from the exchange of ideas that occurs in such groups. I took her advice and joined a long-established large group of writers in the desert.

One of the sub-groups of the organization was comprised of about ten people who gathered twice a month to talk about writing, to share ideas, and to provide support. In the process, I learned a great deal about the craft. When I was finding it a challenge to differentiate between the characters in my second novel, other writers suggested that I give them physical characteristics that would help the reader recognize them–a beard, a unique speech pattern, poor posture, etc. Once I made the mistake of giving two of my characters first names that began with the same initial: Matt and Michael. A writer friend who read a draft suggested I give them names that start with different initials. That was a very astute suggestion. I have since noticed that I sometimes confuse characters in the books I read if they happen to have names that begin with the same initial. Another writer one time suggested that a helpful way to proofread one’s writing is to read material aloud. It is an excellent way to spot errors that might otherwise be overlooked. Moreover, it helps to assess the flow of sentences or the overuse of the same word.

After we settle into our new home, I will seek out a writers group to join. It is beneficial to have friends who write.

New Year’s resolutions can be hard to keep, but there was one goal I set for 2015: to read one book for each week of the year. I came close by reading 50. Don Quixote kept me from meeting this goal. It took me weeks to read Cervantes’s masterpiece, time which could have been spent reading 3 or 4 average-sized books. But I’m especially proud of reading Don Quixote, a book like no other.

Of the 50 books read in 2015, here are my top 5, in no particular order:

Take This Man by Brando Skyhorse: The autobiography of a Mexican-American writer who suffered a highly dysfunctional family life until he broke away and became his own man.

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng: A heartbreaking story of a young Chinese-American girl’s search for identity.

Make Your Home With Strangers by Jennine Capo-Crucet: A Cuban-American teen goes off to college in a northeastern American university where she quickly feels alienated from her fellow students and . . . from her family back in Miami.

The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters: A sensitively written story of forbidden love in early twentieth century America.

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes: Cervantes packs so many themes into this tale of class divisions, the wisdom of the seemingly common man, the search for truth and justice, keeping one’s dreams alive, and the realm of popular fiction. And, over four centuries after it was written, it still entertains, and it made me laugh out loud.

This list of favorites makes me realize that I have a preference for coming-of-age stories. I guess that’s not surprising since I wrote one. Happy New Year and Happy Reading!