Shall We Dance? (Maiden Update #4)

So I finished the working draft for Maiden before Christmas and sent it out to a few beta-readers, including my wife.  When you hear one thing, you can dismiss it.  When you hear it again, there might be something.  But when multiple people give you the same exact feedback…you listen.

What was the feedback?
“For the love of all that’s holy we (the reader) need to know how Corwin and Jeanette feel about each other?  Don’t leave it so bottled up.  Give us SOMETHING towards the beginning of the book.”
Well, that’s not exactly what everybody said, but that’s the jist of it.  So as I have spent the last three weeks taking time to revise and edit and improve the book one of the ideas that came from all the suggestions was a dance scene.  It’s set in a mideival-ish time, they are having a festival, why wouldn’t they have a dance?  It’s perfect!  (Sidenote: Every movie I can think of off the top of my head that I have researched for this story has a dance scene…A Knight’s Tale being among my favorite).  Not sure why I didn’t think of it before, but that’s one of the blessings of a) letting others see your work and b) accepting the feedback they give you to help improve your story)
So today, I am glad to announce, that I finished the dance scene – and all the feedback the beta-readers gave me was correct (of course).  It has helped to build more interest in the characters, has helped to build some conflict, and has helped to solidify what direction the story needs to go.
So when in doubt…dance:-)
PS – a few weeks ago I asked on Facebook what the name of the song is that should be playing when Corwin and Jeanette dance for the first time.  I got a lot of responses and the current working title is ‘The Maiden’s Walk’.  It’s a slow dance, and the traditional dances back then were more of a group walk/turn/separate kind of interaction.

A Better Understanding

Eric reluctantly walked into Mr. Walker’s class.

“I’m glad you decided to stay for detention instead of making it worse,” Mr. Walker said, looking up from his desk.  Eric walked past his seat in the front row to the back of the room and sat down, not responding.  Mr. Walker looked at Eric, as if to say something, but he went back to working on his papers.

“Well, I’m here,” Eric said, throwing his hands up.  “You won.  Give me some work or something.”

Mr. Walker put his pen down, picked up a stack of papers on his desk, and stood up.  “I’m just trying to help you, Eric.  It’s not my…”

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Eric said defensively.

Year after year, school after school, teacher after teacher, that’s all he was…someone that needed help.  Another project.  Another young man from the streets that some stuck up, well bred, college educated teacher could help in order to make themselves feel better over dinner conversations with their friends.  Only four weeks into school and Eric had already been suspended once for fighting and a handful of detentions for tardies and mouthing off.

Eric knew he had problems.  They were his problems.   He didn’t need anybody to fix him.  He didn’t want anybody to try.

Mr. Walker stopped at the front of the row.  “Look, Eric.  I’m not sure why you went off today in my class.  I didn’t push Vice-Principal Harmon to give you a suspension, cause missing school doesn’t do you any good.  I think you are capable of the work.  I just want to try and understand a little more what I can do…”

“You don’t need to understand anything,” Eric snapped.  “All you need to do is give me my work and leave me alone.”

Mr. Walker looked, again, like he wanted to say something.  It seemed Mr. Walker always wanted to say something.  Like there was something on his mind that he needed to share with Eric, but never did.

Just give me the stupid work, Mr. Walker.  Don’t try to figure me out.  You don’t know me.  You don’t know nothing about me.

Mr. Walker took off his glasses, wiped them on the back of his tie and put them back on.

Don’t say anything else Mr. Walker.  Just let me be.

“Look Eric, I just…”

“Damn it, man,” Eric said, standing, pushing the desk aside and starting down the row.  “Why can’t you just let me be.  I told you, I don’t need your help and I don’t want your help.”.

Mr. Walker stood his ground at the end of the row, but made room so Eric could pass.

“I can’t let you be Eric, because I care.  Why is that so hard for you to believe?” Mr. Walker asked.  Eric felt a hint of sincerity, but his anger let it slide.

“Ain’t no way you have any clue what I’m going through.  You can’t even pretend to know anything about me,” Eric said, stopping short of the door, moving closer to Mr. Walker.  “Just leave me…”

“Sorry to drop in on you honey, but we…” a lady said walking into the classroom.  “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.  I didn’t know you would have a student with you.”

“It’s no problem.  Pam, this is one of my students, Eric, we were just talking about some assignments he is working on,” Mr. Walker said.  Eric stood, speechless.  He looked at Mr. Walker and again at Mr. Walker’s wife.  It didn’t add up.

Pam reached out her hand, “Oh, so this is Eric.  My husband has mentioned you a few times.  He’s excited about teaching you this year.”

Eric extended his hand out of reflex.  What was she talking about, ‘Excited about teaching you this year?’  As Eric shook her hand, feeling the touch of her skin that was the same as his, he felt a ping of guilt.  He had felt a lot of emotions in the recent past, but he didn’t remember feeling guilt.  It felt different, real.  “It’s nice to meet you,” he replied, letting go.

Pam turned to leave, “I’ll let you guys get back to what you were doing.  I’ll wait in the faculty lounge for you.  Sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s no problem.  I shouldn’t be too much longer,” Mr. Walker said.  “Besides,” he added, looking at Eric, “I think your visit was the pause our conversation needed to help us…refocus the discussion.”

Eric looked at Mr. Walker’s wife and then back to Mr. Walker, nodding.  After his wife left, Mr. Walker turned to Eric and waited.

After a short pause, Eric quietly made his way to his seat in the front row, Mr. Walker handed him the stack of papers, and Eric started on his work.

Building Worlds with Guest Writer Lana Krumwiede (Tips on Writing Tuesday #9)

Today, I welcome wonderful author Lana Krumwiede to share some writing tips on ‘world building.’  Lana’s debut middle-grade novel, Freakling, was published by Candlewick in October, 2012 and if you haven’t checked it out…well you should (see my review here).  In fact, you should check out Lana’s website here and check out Freakling either on Amazon or Goodreads.


Take it away, Lana…

I had the pleasure of acting as guest author for one of the summer writing camp sessions of Richmond Young Writers. Everything about it was awesome: the writers, the instructors, Chop Suey Books. Heaven!

Since I got to choose the topic, we talked about world building, which is just a more interesting word for setting.  World building is associated with fantasy and science fiction, because the author must provide enough information to allow the reader to understand the character’s world, be it another planet, an imaginary future, or an alternate reality. It’s not just the writer that builds the world–the reader also has to build a vision of the world in his own mind as he reads. The writer’s job is to provide the building material to make that happen. Like all building materials, they must be provided in a logical order and in manageable quantities. Otherwise, the builder (reader) has trouble knowing where all the pieces fit.
In writing Freakling, I knew world building was going to be a huge challenge. Patricia Wrede’s world building questions had given me a lot to think about. I had a lot of details about Taemon’s world worked out in my notes, but I knew including every single bit of that would overwhelm the reader. I had to choose. But how?
The answer involves a sad story from my family history.
In 1900, my great-great grandfather and two of his brothers were killed in a horrific mine explosion in Utah. About 200 miners lost their lives in the blast. Most of them were immigrants; some had entered the United States only two weeks previous to their death. For the small town of Scofield, it was absolutely devastating.
Every able bodied man was needed in the search for the bodies that were scattered throughout the mine. The people involved in the rescue had just lost family members, friends, and co-workers. They were exhausted from working through the night. Arguments broke out, in particular because the Finns refused to take part in the search despite the fact that some 50 of the deceased were their fellow countrymen. More level-headed people (or perhaps bilingual people) intervened to explain that Finnish customs were very strict about who was allowed to handle bodies of deceased persons, and that the search should be done on a volunteer basis.
A few of the Scofield rescuers, 1900
Customs about who is allowed to handle a corpse. Wow. From a writer’s perspective, that little detail about the Finns is a gold nugget. Conflict! Tension! It’s like revving the engine of the plot.
I thought about how people in Deliverance would feel about dead bodies, and that resulted in some great scenes in the book. I found that the suspicions and paranoia that had seeped into the culture of Deliverance made great fodder for conflict, both large and small. It also helped set the mood and tone for the scenes that are set in Deliverance. I suppose the answer to making choices about world building boils down to this: whatever serves the story best.
Isn’t that the answer to every writing question?

This post first appeared on Lana’s website.

Happy New Year?

Bzzz-Bzzz


The sound slowly woke Hunter.  
Bzzz-Bzzz

It echoed in his ears, his head pulsing with pain.  He tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t.  Sweaty and fully dressed, he lay in his bed on top the covers, the sun beating in through the windows.
Bzzz-Bzzz

“Ugh,” he moaned, reaching up to the nightstand to grab his phone.  His fingers searched the dirty shelf, locating it.  Slowly, he brought the screen to his face.  Why did his head hurt?  Why was he still dressed?
Bzzz-Bzzz

“Ow-ow-ow,” he continued, rolling on his back, pulling the blanket up over his face to shield it from the light.   His eyes blinked open to bring the small screen into view.
36 UNREAD TEXT MESSAGES
“What the…?”
Hunter sat up, burped, and felt like he would be sick.  The waft of alcohol and vomit coming off of him was strong.  Fingers pushing buttons furiously, he started reading through the messages.
From his friend, Steve…haha – just saw you on the news…way to go!

From a girl in his class, Kara…Seriously dude, I knew you were crazy, but you should win an award for THAT…
From another girl at school, Melissa…didn’t your mom teach you any manners…one thing to be funny, but that was just gross…AND ON TV.  Good luck getting into college, moron!

His mind raced – last night, last night, last night…what happened?  His parents were going to a work party for his dad.  He was going to Brent’s.  At least that’s what he told them.  They wanted him home by 1am.  He didn’t go to Brent’s.  He was sweating even more.
A few more messages, from his best friend, Kyle…I told you not to do it.  so don’t come blaming me.  have your parents seen yet?  CALL ME!!!

From Steve again…NICE, someone has it up on Youtube now.  You are lagit man, for real.  already at like 2k views, and it’s only been a few hours.  #rockstar

There was a link.  Hunter pressed it.  He turned his phone sideways and waited for the the video to load.  He looked at the view count; it was now up to 10,000.  When it loaded, a news reporter stood on a busy street corner, people all around her.  
She started the broadcast, “This is Holly Madsen in downtown with other revelers waiting for midnight to arrive in just under a minute.  Everyone around me seems in high spirits and ready for the New Year.”
“Holy crap,” he whispered, some memory coming back.  They went to Brent’s, but then they took his car, picked up some friends and went downtown.  His parents had told him to stay away from down town.  Brent took some booze from his parents house and they partook to celebrate the New Year.  
Then he saw himself in the video.  Standing right behind the reporter.  He was right there, next to his buddies.    The reporter continued, “Everyone around, help me count down the New Year.”  
The crowd cheered behind her…”10…9…8…7…6…5…4…” 
Hunter watched in horror as he pushed his way up through the crowd, closer to the reporter. 
“3…2”
She continued to smile and yell with the crowd around her.  On the video, Hunter’s mouth wasn’t moving, but his eyes were fixed on the reporter.
“…and one.  Happy New Year!” she shouted, and as soon as she did, Hunter lunged in and gave her a sloppy kiss on the lips.
The reporters face turned quickly to disgust as she stepped back.  The crowd around screamed, egging Hunter on.  Hunter smiled and whooped back to the crowd.  
“Oh no,” he said as he watched himself go in for another smooch.  As he leaned in again he puked all over her.
“Noooooo!” he screamed from his bed and put his hands to his mouth.  The reporter screamed and some in the crowd laughed, others looked ill.  His friends grabbed him quickly and they raced off screen before the video went black.
He lay in bed, helpless, unsure what to do.  There was a knock at the door.
“Hey, Hunter, you okay?”
“Uh…yeah, mom.  Just,” he stammered, wiping his brow, “not feeling so hot.”
“Okay.  Well, Dad and I are going to get breakfast made.  Come on down when you feel like it and tell us about last night.  If it was anything like ours, I bet you had a blast.  Happy New Year!”
“Ha-ha…okay,” he said, dropping his phone in his lap, and putting his head in his hands.

The Best Present

Daddy, you are so silly!

As she read the words, a shutter of remembrance caused a chill, then a tug at her breath.

Then tears.

Wiping her cheek on the back of her sweater, she repositioned herself.  She had been huddled on the couch for two days, wearing the same pajamas.   No work, no calls. no going out.  All she had time for – all she wanted to do – was to go through the box of belongings her father had left her.

There had been moments of deep sadness, wonderful laughter, and curious uncertainty.   It had been a week since since she got the call and three days since the funeral, yet she still wouldn’t admit that he was truly gone.

She picked the diary back up and began again.

December 18th

Today is my little girl’s birthday.  She is so cute.  I love getting up for work in the morning because I’m usually up before anybody else, but by the time I’m out of the shower and dressed and back in the kitchen…there she is.  In her fuzzy jammies, waiting for a hug.  That tangled hair and bright smile.  It makes my day.

When I saw her this morning she was so giggly and I grabbed her and said, in a monster voice, ‘Why are you so giggly?’

‘Daddy, you know why!’

Hmm, I pretended.  ‘Is it because you have frogs in your breeches?” 

She laughed and laughed and I tickled her.

‘Daddy, you are so silly!’

She stopped and, though she was laughing, the tears fell even harder than before.  It was coming back.  Not the exact images, but flashes, glimpses.  Little presents to help her remember.

The phone rang and she wiped her eyes again.  She knew it was her mom checking in on her.  She closed the diary and held it close.  “Thank you,” she whispered, before placing it next to the other memories that her father had taken the time to create for her.


This story is dedicated to my little Jordan (who is not quite so little anymore) on her 6th birthday.  She always likes to tell me just how “silly” I am.  I love you fluffy girl!


My Interview on CBS6 ‘Virginia This Morning’

That’s right, I was on live TV (gulp)!  My first EVER TV appearance.  It was a truly wonderful experience.  The staff and crew were gracious, and Cheryl Miller who did the interview was very friendly and helped to set me at ease before the interview.

I was able to talk about my books, the publishing process and the changes in technology over the years (including the surge of ebooks).  I was also able to plug the ‘Celebrate with a Book‘ fair that took place the next day.

The best part about the whole experience was…I didn’t even ask for it.  It was completely out of the blue.  The producer for the show emailed me a few weeks ago and had been checking the blog for the ‘Celebrate with a Book‘ fair (which went great) and liked my profile enough to invite me on.  A testimony that if you work hard, keep the faith, and don’t give up, doors will continue to open for you.

Sidenote: “electronical” is a new word…all the hip kids are using it:-)

Beta-Reader Feedback in Hand – Final Revision Time! (Maiden Update #3)

The last three months have brought about so many wonderful things on the path to finishing this story.  

First, I had positive feedback from not one, but two agents, who I pitched at local conferences.  Talk about motivation to finish!!!
Second, I was fortunate and very humbled to be invited to become a member of a local writing group – Richmond Children’s Writers.  It has been exactly what I need to move forward in my writing career.  There are 10 other writers in the group and they have been so patient with me and my learning curve.  It’s an honor to be able to learn from them and hopefully give back.  I have learned a TON!
Last, but not least, I finished my 2nd revision of ‘Maiden‘.  I know I’m still not ‘done’ yet, but it was nice to have another box checked off.  I had four beta-readers total who were willing to go through the story and look for all the things that need to be fixed (I love you all!).   This week I finally got all the feedback.  Having another set of eye balls on it gave me so much perspective.  Things I knew needed to get fixed and didn’t know how, or ideas I never would have thought of that will make the story that much better.  
Some of the common themes I kept hearing from the beta-readers that I need to work on:
– Jeanette needs to have more purpose, more vision (interesting choice of words, given the relevance eye’s play in the book)
– I had too many point-of-view characters.  I need to keep out of so many people’s heads and keep it simple.  This has been great feedback for me and has really helped me keep the pace moving.
– The story is intended to be young adult and it is an adventure, that much I know.  The question has been about fantasy?  What entails fantasy?  At first, because there was a make believe land, it seemed fantasy was a good fit, but the book doesn’t have any dragons, wizards, or magic…typical fantasy flare.  But it does have some ‘elements’ of fantasy.  When readers went in thinking it was an adventure fantasy, they had a preconceived idea of what to expect, and when that’s not what it was, they were not happy.  So apparently I need to come up with something other than fantasy…’fantasy light’?
– There is a war that has been going on in the land, and is still waging.  I need to make it darker, more stark…have more affect in the everyday lives of the citizens.
That’s just a few things.  Great feedback that will really help bring the story to life.  
Very excited for this next phase of revising and to (sooner than later) have that final manuscript in hand and ready for submissions!

Pit Stop (Sentence to Story #17)
It had been a long drive with plenty of time and solitude in which to contemplate his next course of action.  

The two lane road seemed to go on forever.  As soon as Tom would speed up, another small town would appear, bringing him back to a crawl, and then back to full speed again.  He was low on gas and
needed to stop, but even the small town stations had too many eyes.  Passer byers impatiently pumping gas and locals sitting on newsstands talking about last night’s football game.

Last night.  

Thirteen hours and six hundred plus miles later and it already seemed like forever ago.  No sleep, no food, and not a clue what to do next.  It was time to stop.

Pulling into the mom and pop, one pump store, dust filled the air behind him.  He opened the door to see the corn fields sprawled out on the other side of the street.

A clerk looked out of the window and waved.  Tom ignored him, uncapped the tank and put the hose in the hole.  The clerk tapped the window and pointed to the pump.  Tom turned and looked at the pump: ‘Must pay before pumping.’

He sighed, left the hose in the car, and slowly walked into the store.

“Howdy stranger,” the middle-aged man behind the counter said.  “For a while I didn’t know if I was going to get any business today.”

Tom smiled at him and headed to the snack aisle.

Just shutup and let me get my stuff and leave.

“Been pretty weather we’ve had lately.  Usually we have more travelers on a Saturday.”

Tom ignored him, grabbing a bag of chips and a soft drink.  He took a deep breath and reached inside the jacket he was wearing for the wallet.

“How much gas you need today?” the clerk asked as Tom opened the wallet.  

No cash.  Dammit.

“Uh, I guess about thirty bucks worth,” Tom said, fumbling in the wallet, looking for a credit card, trying to hide his hands and wrists as much as possible.

The clerk nodded, rang up the gas, chips and soda.  “That’ll be thirty-three thirty-three.  Huh, that’s pretty funny,” he said, with a slight chuckle.

Tom tensed.  “What’s so funny?”

“The numbers,” the clerk said pointing, “they came up the same at the front and the back.”    Tom took another deep breath and leaned in to hand the credit card over.  When he did, the light shining through the front door glared off the metal on his wrist, into the clerks eyes.

The clerk squinted and raised his hands to block it.  “That’s some bracelet you got there, jeesh.”  Tom dropped the card on the counter and quickly put his hands in his pocket.  

“Sorry about that,” Tom said.

The clerk took the card and ran it.  

Beep.

The clerk pulled it through the machine again.

Beep.

The clerk looked at the card and back at Tom.  “I’m sorry Mr. Wayne Nelson, but it’s declining your card for some reason.  You got another one I can use.”

I need something to eat.  I need gas to keep driving.  I need something to go my way.

Tom tried to smile it off and thought for a minute, considering the options.

“Look, I’m really sorry mister, it happens sometimes.”  

I’m not going back to prison.

There was only one option left.  Tom reached into the inside of his jacket, slowly.  “I think I might have another card or some money, just one second.”

Beep-beep.

“Oh, wait,” the clerk said, peering down at the card machine.  A strand of yellow paper spit out of the top.  “Huh, it worked, how about that.  Must be running slow.”

Tom grabbed the food and the card quickly.  When he did, the handcuffs that had been cut in half were exposed on his wrist, just briefly.  He looked up at the clerk, who was still shaking his head, amazed at the credit card machine.

“Man, it’s never waited that long to run a card.  Must be your lucky day, mister.”

“No, it’s yours,” Tom said, and left.


First sentence of this story submitted by Toni S.  

Literary Agents #3: How To Pitch An Agent (Tips on Writing Tuesday #8)

In the first part of this series, we talked about what you should know about literary agents (hint: they are regular, everyday people!).  In the second part, we discussed why it would be a very good idea to pitch an agent in person.

Today, we will talk about how to pitch an agent.

1) Know What Your End Goal Is

Knowing how you are approaching the pitch and being comfortable with your decision will go a long way.  If you are shaking the agents hand and still don’t have a clue what direction you want to go, then you have a problem.

If your manuscript is ready and you are looking for representation, that’s wonderful.  If your end goal is to just get practice, network, and get feedback, that’s awesome, too – just make sure the agent knows.  Don’t try to pretend your book is done, when it’s not.

2) Dress Professional and Be Professional

The agent-author relationship is a business.  So if given the option of dealing with high-maintenance authors who have no idea how the business side publishing works, or working with writers who understand what it means to be prompt, courteous, easy-to-work with and NOT crazy…I’ll let you guess which author the agent will go with.

3) Use Your Time Wisely (aka The Anatomy of the Pitch)


Most conferences will allow anywhere from 7-10 minutes of time for you and the agent.  You want to take advantage of ALL of it.  You are in charge of the pitch, so knowing how to use your time is crucial.  In my experience, the pitch comes down to the three main parts: the intro, the pitch, the question and answer.

The intro should take no more than 30 seconds (maybe a minute if your agent seems especially friendly).  “Hello, my name is…nice to meet you…how are you enjoying the conference?  You can even ask about any new acquisitions they have or how a recent release is doing.  Doing so lets them know you have done your homework.  Smile and be friendly!

Then you go right into the pitch.  Tell the genre and word count of the book you are pitching and then give the pitch line – that one sentence that describes your story: “My book is James Bond meets vampires” or “My story is Joan of Arc meets Game of Thrones”.  You get the point.  Whatever it is, make it true and make it grab their attention.  Then go into the actual pitch.

The actual pitch of your book should be between 1 and 2 minutes long.  That’s it, no more.  Only a few main characters need to be mentioned.  What’s the protagonist want, how are they trying to get it and what/who is keeping them from it?  What is the conflict?

When you are done with the pitch…stop talking.  No, really, don’t say anything else.  Over and over again the one area where an author hijacks a perfectly good pitch is they don’t stop talking and walk themselves over a cliff.  Practice the pitch, say it, and then shutup:-)

You have just told the agent about your baby; the story you have been toiling over.  Let them ask you a question.  And then another…and then another.  When the questions come, keep your answers short and sweet and to the point, avoiding side tangents.  If you have done your job with the pitch, then the agent will have questions about the conflict, other characters, setting, etc.  Remember, you want it to be a conversation.

4) How to End the Pitch

When the time is up usually one of two things will happen: they will give you a card and tell you they want to see some or all of the manuscript, or they will shake your hand and think you for the visit.

If they want to see more of your work, take the card, thank them with a smile, and tell them you look forward to sending it and will be in touch shortly.  You can skip and jump and shout after you are out of their earshot.  If they don’t give you a card, still shake their hand, say thank you for their time, and walk away, grateful for the opportunity to grow as a writer.

Whether you feel the meeting was positive or negative, write your feelings about the experience as soon as possible.  What went well, what didn’t, what can you improve for the next experience you have with an agent?  Were there questions the agent had that you didn’t have answers too?  Learn from the experience!

What experiences have you had with agents at pitch sessions?  I would love to know!

Review of ‘Unbroken’ by Laura Hillenbrand (Through the Shelf Thursday #8)

Title: Unbroken
Author: Laura Hillenbrand
Genre: History, Biography, World War II
Description from Goodreads:

On a May afternoon in 1943, an Army Air Forces bomber crashed into the Pacific Ocean and disappeared, leaving only a spray of debris and a slick of oil, gasoline, and blood.  Then, on the ocean surface, a face appeared.  It was that of a young lieutenant, the plane’s bombardier, who was struggling to a life raft and pulling himself aboard.  So began one of the most extraordinary odysseys of the Second World War.

The lieutenant’s name was Louis Zamperini.  In boyhood, he’d been a cunning and incorrigible delinquent, breaking into houses, brawling, and fleeing his home to ride the rails.  As a teenager, he had channeled his defiance into running, discovering a prodigious talent that had carried him to the Berlin Olympics and within sight of the four-minute mile.  But when war had come, the athlete had become an airman, embarking on a journey that led to his doomed flight, a tiny raft, and a drift into the unknown.

Ahead of Zamperini lay thousands of miles of open ocean, leaping sharks, a foundering raft, thirst and starvation, enemy aircraft, and, beyond, a trial even greater.  Driven to the limits of endurance, Zamperini would answer desperation with ingenuity; suffering with hope, resolve, and humor; brutality with rebellion.  His fate, whether triumph or tragedy, would be suspended on the fraying wire of his will.

Date I Finished Reading: November 27, 2012

My Rating: 4 of 5

My Review: (also on Goodreads, Amazon):

I have been on a young adult kick lately, so this is the first adult book I have read in a while.  A friend of mine lent it to me and told me it was one of the best history books he had ever read; not just about World War 2, but in general.  The author, Laura Hillenbrand, is well known for her triumphant Seabiscuit (which I did not read, but loved the movie); so with all the buzz around the book and my friend’s recommendation I gave it a shot.

I’m so glad I did.  What an AMAZING story!  If the book wasn’t so well documented it would be hard to believe it was true.  We read the story of Louie Zamperini and how he goes from rough teenager, to Olympic runner, to World War II airman, to floating survivor, to tortured (physically) POW, to tortured (emotionally) war survivor, to a redeemed man who finds peace in his life.

Honestly, you couldn’t make this stuff up; and that’s where Hillenbrand’s success lies…she didn’t make it up. She spent almost a decade researching and meeting the people that affected Zamperini’s life: family, fly-mates, even the POW guards.  We become intimate with not only the main character, but those around him.  Her style of writing gives us depth, but personally it’s also one of the flaws of the book.  I want substance, I want to know about other people, but Hillenbrand seemed to go on tangents where one minute I was reading about Louie and the next minute I was reading about somebody completely different (and wondering why I wasn’t reading about Louie).  That is one reason I gave the book a 4 – it wasn’t because of the story, but more because I disagreed with the writing, or how it was put together.  I wanted the book to focus on Louie.  Bring in family and friends and enemies, I want to know about them, but keep the focus on Louie.

Another issue I had with the writing is there were times when Hillenbrand seemed to repeat herself.  I would spend a page reading about how a time in Louie’s life and how he felt and I would feel like I was right there, eating it all up.  Then she would share another tidbit, maybe a couple of paragraphs of side information, which was fine.  But then she would go back to talking about the same information as before, but do it in a way as if she had not been talking about it…like she was introducing it for the first time; with the same vigor and seriousness that she had the first time.  I felt like she was trying to draw me in…again.  And it wasn’t needed.  This happened multiple times.

So again, the story itself and all the characters involved gave me an insight to World War II and POW camps that I would have never imagined and made me want to turn the page to find out more.  My respect for those in uniform has grown exponentially.  The stats alone are enough to make anyone pause.  There is not a single doubt that the author did her homework, and the people come out in the story, but at times the writing made the story repetitive and maybe a little forced.   I’m not sure if the book knows what it wants to be.  While the book seems like it wants to be a biography, I can’t really say that it is…100%.  It’s like Hillenbrand wanted to fit as much information about aviation and POW camps from WW2 into one man’s story.

But, all that aside, a phenomenal story very much worth the read!

Have you read ‘Unbroken’?  What did you think?