Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Reader Reviews: Carved in Darkness

Don't let me fool you--I really do care what people think. Probably a lot more than I should.

 I believe it goes hand-in-hand with my near paralyzing fear or failure, this worry that I might disappoint someone I care about, or someone I just met... or even a total stranger that I happen to make eye-contact with at the grocery store. Disappointment means failure and I'd rather eat glass than fail at anything, which makes my life as a writer challenging, to say the least.

When I see or hear someone post or say good things about my writing, I get giddy with success. I do my happy dance and grin like a simpleton. I twirl on mountaintops. I burst into song... of course all of this happens in my head. On the outside, I might shrug and say, "that's pretty cool." Which prompts people to think I'm either a) an emotionless cyborg, b) insane, or c) jaded beyond salvation.

None of which is true (I mean, option B is always up for debate...). I think, along with my failure phobia, I've developed this belief that if I celebrate my own success, I:

1) will jinx myself.

2) will look like a pretentious asshat. (because in my mind, this is what a pretentious asshat looks like)

3) will have farther to fall when I am inevitably shoved off the Cliffs of Success by my arch nemesis, Failure. That's Failure, on the right.

The sad thing is that I've had some pretty cool reviews. Great reviews. Reviews that if I were not me, would make me want to read the book I actually wrote. I should be sharing them, right? That's not douchy or pretentious, is it? I'm allowed to celebrate, aren't I? I can toot my own horn without fear of invoking the wrath of Failure and to prove it, I'm gonna start tooting...

This is a great review I received today from Blood Rose Books:

This is another from Mallory Heart Review:

This is another by Julie Beckett's Wicked Little Imp Review bog:


Last, but certainly not least, I received this review today by Cath on her wonderful blog, My Book Chatter Blog:

I am BLOWN AWAY by the level of support CARVED has garnered and am so giddy I might actually do my happy dance for reals! :)

I might have missed one or two but I want to thank these fantastic bloggers who took the time to read and blog about my novel, for nothing else but their own love of good books. I don't know who you guys (or gals) are but I owe you big! If you head over to their site to read their reviews of CARVED IN DARKNESS, stay awhile. Read what they have to say about other books as well. You won't be sorry.

my buy link:

official release: May 8th, 2013.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go hide under my desk until then...

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

What Hangs in the Balance

Like most things in writing, villains are a delicate balance. Not enough evil and you get this:

Too much evil and you get this:

The most effective villains are like this:

See what I mean? Delicate balance.

The weird thing is, though... true villains aren't balanced. They've leaned too far over the edge and lost their footing... or maybe they just swan-dived into the abyss. Either way, they're free-falling down a deep, dark hole. 

And they like it. 

They presents well. They look normal. They smile and talk. Give their seats up to little old ladies on the bus and rescue cats out of trees. They have children and drive minivans. And all the while, they harbor darkness.

Not that we don’t all harbor darkness—we do. We all have thoughts and desires we would never act on because not only do we know the difference between right and wrong, we respect it. 

We're balanced.

In order to write an effective villain, we have to knock ourselves off balance. We have to be willing to go there. You know, there. We have to be willing to search out the dark spots we keep hidden and poke at them until they bleed. To get the page a bit dirty, to scare ourselves silly. To dangle our toes over the abyss.

There have been times--many times--when I've written something and afterward wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with me. My husband blames (for lack of a better word) my childhood. He's probably right.

Whatever the reason, I'm thankful for my keen sense of balance because no matter how many times I dangle my toes, I'm able to right myself without falling. 

And now, just for fun, some of my all-time favorite villains:

and last, but not least...

who's your favorite all time villain?

Maegan Beaumont is the author of  Carved in Darkness, available through Midnight Ink, May 8th, 2013

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Review: The Rapist

Truman Pinter is a sociopath.

Like all sociopaths, he sees himself as better—elevated in every way. Removed and above those of us he sees as less. Less cultured. Less intelligent. Less aware. Less significant. Less… human.
We are but bothersome insects to Truman. Base, vulgar creatures who roam and rut our way through life without thought or care for things that truly matter.

Truman Pinter is a Rapist.

This is a fact he never disputes… in fact he admits it almost proudly. To police. To himself. To us. He infects us with his perverse perceptions and false logic. He makes us question the very things we base our own humanity on. He peels back the curtain and whispers, “there… see, you feel it too. You are no better than I.”

Truman Pinter is going to pay for his perceived crimes against humanity.

Or is he?

It’s hard to pin down, Les Edgerton’s latest novel, The Rapist. Is it considered a classic noir tale of a damaged man’s twisted path of self-destruction? Maybe it’s a gritty crime novel that chronicles an evil sociopath’s final hours… perhaps it’s a highbrowed work of literary fiction fraught with existential yearning.

The answer is yes. The Rapist is all of those things… and much, much more.

The Rapist is a dirty window used to peer into the blackest of hearts and the most vile of souls. A window that can never be wiped clean enough to make us want to press our faces against it… but we do so anyway, all the while feeling as if the black of Truman Pinter’s heart has tainted us forever.

It is a murky kaleidoscope of appalling shapes and unspeakable colors. Just when you think you’ve figured it out, just when you think you finally understand the vision Edgerton has set in front of us, it tumbles away, giving us another look from an entirely different perspective. A perspective we are not wholly comfortable with. One we reject, even as we unwillingly understand it.

The final result is Les Edgerton’s tour de force. A masterfully raw, brilliantly unabashed study into the heart and mind of the most cold-blooded sociopath you’ll ever encounter, on the page or off.

check it out!: