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Book Review: The Dark at the Heart of the Diamond

The Dark at the Heart of the Diamond. Sylvia Shults. Dark Continents Publishing, August 15, 2012, Trade Paperback and Kindle, 248 pages.

Reviewed by Christine Collins Cacciatore.

Local Illinois author Sylvia Shults has written several books, among them Timeless Embrace, Fractured Spirits, and The Dreamwatcher. The Dreamwatcher and Timeless Embrace are as USA Best Books finalists. Her latest offering is a book of short stories entitled The Dark at the Heart of the Diamond. From what I’ve read about her, she’s an author who wants to affect her reader. Provoke a reaction. Make them think.

I read this book within the space of a few days. However, the short stories stuck with me longer than that. Each story was better than the last. In the author’s notes, she mentions that she would love it if her readers would stay up late, thinking about a particular story. Well played, Ms. Shults.

Yours truly was one of the readers who did stay up. Her tales remind me somewhat of Stephen King, in that the reader thinks all is normal, until BAM! Suddenly we are dealing with, for instance, a man bound and determined to see through someone else’s eyes. Literally. “The World Through Your Eyes” is creepy but delicious. Another story I kept chewing on long after I put down the book was “Wings of Silver.” It was a heartbreaking story of a loyal little plane realizing it was nearing the end of its usefulness. Although it’s an inanimate object, the author does a great job of making the reader feel pity for the little plane…never mind its naughty behavior.

The collection of short stories starts off with a touching story about a vampire. The second story moves you into a very different world, in which a man receives a letter he is both expecting and dreading. Then there’s a somewhat sad narrative of a forgetful woman who loves roses, but her predilection for them helps her family in unexpected, surprising ways. Yet another story is about a woman who has very unexpected results when battling a large amount of pests. This one is going to linger in your subconscious, especially if you should hear something rustling around your kitchen at night. It made my skin crawl even while I laughed at the end. One of my favorite stories, however, was about Mr. Twilby, whose stubbornness is only matched by his ick factor.

I will be reading these stories over and over; that’s how much I enjoyed her collection. Some of them are dark and disturbing, some are whimsical, and some are just plain creepy, but every one of them is clever and well written. I plan on finding and reading some of Ms. Shults’ other books.

Do yourselves a favor. Get a copy of this book, The Dark at the Heart of the Diamond, and set aside some time to delve into it. It is chock-full of entertaining stories that you will think about long after you close the cover.



Book Review: Dream Diary

Dream Diary. Katia Mitova. Virtual Artists Collective: www.vacpoetry.org, March 15, 2013, Trade Paperback, 92 pages.

Reviewed by Cronin Detzz.

Mitova bursts strong right out of the gate with a poem incredibly appealing to the eyes by splitting two thoughts with white space, then slowly bringing each line closer together. The visual result forms a letter “y.” The title of the poem is “from the Emperor’s B&B book.” Dream Diary uses the mechanism of “B&B” throughout, using phrases such as, “Black and Bright,” “Being & Becoming,” or “Bold & Bashful.” The title of her last chapter is “B&B”, with one of the letters backwards and mirroring the other.

I try to teach other poets to remember that readers are highly visual creatures, and Mitova understands this. She even goes so far as to place short poems in the bottom right-hand corner of each chapter heading, with each line in a different font.

In short, she is a true artist.

Her poems are collections of dreams. Naturally, the poems are surreal and slightly disjointed, similar to the way we humans dream. For example, on page 25 in a poem entitled, “gateway,” she writes:

“where a woman humming before the mirror / disentangles the young sun from the honey / of her hair and sends it up to the sky”

Mitova introduces us to words that will be new to many readers. On page 67, we learn the meaning behind ancient words like okwa and Kush from the “almost extinct language of the Tehuelche Indians of Southern Patagonia.” In the poem entitled, “Native Word,” we read the imaginative way she uses the word peperuda, and on page 14 we learn about the word albedo, which has multiple meanings that refer to a white reflection. I especially loved Mitova’s mastery in the use of color throughout her poetry.

I cannot even pretend to tell you that I understood all of the poems. Because poetry is such a subjective form of art, it will not always have purpose that can be easily divined. Think of the difference between an abstract painting compared to the paintings in the Sistine Chapel. Both paintings are meant to inspire; however, only the Sistine Chapel’s purpose is commonly understood. If MItova’s intent was to create an abstract painting of poetry, she has masterfully succeeded. If she intended to have the reader understand deeper subcurrents, then I would suggest framing each chapter by explaining more of the themes and interpretations at the beginning of each chapter. But it should be restated that not every poet wants clean, bright lines of understanding and interpretation.

Congratulations to Katia Mitova for creating her own abstract work of art. 


Book Review: Clever Gretel

Clever Gretel. Jennifer Dotson. Chicago Poetry Press, March 24, 2013, Paperback, 96 pages.

Reviewed by Cronin Detzz.

Clever Gretel by Jennifer Dotson is primarily a light-hearted, witty collection of poems – even though it reads more like prose that occasionally rhyme – that leaves  readers feeling as though they’re engaged in a friendly conversation with the writer over a cup of coffee.

In Clever Gretel, Dotson writes about her personal perspective of everyday occurrences with clever poem titles such as, "Wonder Woman is in My Yoga Class" and "Why I Don't Eat Oatmeal." It takes a certain amount of skill and finesse to write about the mundane, but Dotson pulls it off and more as she tackles events like cleaning and oiling her old bedroom dressers, riding in an elevator, doing a backstroke ("I am a mermaid with goggles") and eating creamed chipped beef on toast.

Dotson is also able to project herself into other people's shoes – literally – when she writes, "I must smile when I am / ignored by women who / think I'm a Barbie... / the Agency doesn't care / that my feet ache and swell / in my high heeled shoes."

The poetry is so visceral it makes one wonder if perhaps Dotson herself has worked a fragrance counter. But that’s the impact of a poet's imagination: one never knows if a poem arises from personal experience or from a poet's ability to imagine another emotional world.

If you are in the mood to poetically reflect on the seemingly small details of your life, read Clever Gretel. You may come to realize the magnitude of the beauty in your own life's microcosm.


Book Review: The Coffin Haulers

The Coffin Haulers. Gregg Cebrzynski. Amazon Digital Services, Inc., Chicago, Illinois, August 19, 2013. Kindle edition, 234 pages.

Reviewed by Kathryn Flatt.

Gregg Cebrzynski’s The Coffin Haulers is a mystery set in Chicago in 1974. Attractive, young, Polish immigrant, Aneta Chelmek, goes out to buy a newspaper as she does every Sunday. A few hours later, she is found brutally murdered. The police quickly determine it’s another gang killing, a simple mugging in an area where Polish and Italian immigrants are being edged out by Latino gangs.

Private detective Joey Boloccini doesn’t agree with the official conclusion. Joey grew up in the Little Village neighborhood and sees the investigation as a chance to take his detective business to the next level by solving a real crime. But there are secrets being kept among these working class people, and many of Joey’s friends and neighbors are not what they seem. They have blurred the lines between right and wrong, and Joey will have to do the same in order to bring Aneta’s killer to justice.

The Coffin Haulers is an excellent story that sank a hook into me from the beginning with the murder victim’s last days and then reeled me in with explorations of the lives of the people around her. Personal histories reveal suspects and their motives in an intricate plot with a sustained theme of justifying one’s acts in the name of survival and the search for the promised “good life” in America. Each character is distinctly drawn, evolving into a “real” person, allowing the reader to begin puzzling over which of them committed murder even before the private detective enters the picture. Very little verbiage is spent on describing the looks of each character, and yet they appear in the mind so clearly. As the story neared its climax, I experienced the feeling that all authors hope to inspire in a reader: I just couldn’t put it down.

Mr. Cebrzynski excels at creating succinct word pictures, such as, “The rain pipes were mottled with so many holes that they sprayed water like a showerhead whenever it rained.” He also deftly employs wry humor, as in a quote from Joey to his history-loving friend: “You’re better than me. I don’t even know when the Fourth of July is.” There are thought provoking philosophical views from the characters as well, observations about life and religious beliefs that demonstrate how their ends-justify-the-means rationalization operates.

The only flaw related to editing: i.e., some dialog passages did not employ quotation marks while others did. While it didn’t generate any particular confusion about what was going on, the proofreader part of my brain took notice.

The Coffin Haulers is an affecting and memorable read. Mr. Cebrzynski grew up in Chicago’s Little Village, and The Coffin Haulers resonates with a deep connection to its heritage. Setting the story in the 1970s was also a nice touch since I remember the era well and fondly. Only after reading the book did I realize it is his second novel, and I am now eager to read the first Joey “Boloney” Boloccini novel, The Champagne Ladies.

I thoroughly recommend The Coffin Haulers to any reader, regardless of their favorite genre. I found it a terrific mystery surrounding characters that will stay with me for a long time.


Book Review: Buried Truth

Buried Truth. Gunter Kaesdorf. Cambridge Books, Cambridge, MD, October 2013, Trade Paperback, Kindle, 301 pages.

Reviewed by Sharon Lynn.

Gunter Kaesdorf’s Buried Truth is a generally well-plotted first novel filled with red herrings and copious suspects. Set in a fictional posh North Shore Chicago suburb, it takes the reader on a first-person journey with young attorney Brooke Wheeler.

As Brooke wrestles with memories bubbling to the surface after the death of a former close friend, she finds herself reluctantly digging into a prom night death from her sophomore year in high school. The key link to both deaths is her former lover, Jeremy, but there are also ties to her brother, Tim and a small circle of his high school friends.

When Brooke finds herself and then her brother as murder suspects, she turns to her boss and mentor, Drake, for assistance. Drake, however, exhibits an on-and-off attitude about helping her. For example, after agreeing to take her on as his own client, she is unable to reach him at a crucial moment in her investigation. Later, she learns he’s been “out of the office” at the golf course. On another occasion, he accompanies her to Jeremy’s house, but instead of going inside with her, as he promised, Drake mysteriously disappears into the bushes, leaving Brooke to confront Jeremy alone.

Kaesdorf’s own background as a lawyer ensures legal elements of the story ring true, and he clearly knows the neighborhoods in which he sets the tale. It’s easy to visualize the mansions only a short distance from Lake Michigan and the upscale shopping districts in which some scenes take place.

The story he writes is closer to soft-boiled than to cozy and could be considered a chick-lit mystery. The first-person perspective and lighter tone contribute to its chummy “between friends” feel. Consider this scene: fairly early in the story, after Brooke has missed a few days of work looking into her friend’s death, she tells us, “Drake didn’t mind my taking a day or two off as long as the work got done, but my absence certainly didn’t dissuade him from adding to my pile. Who else was going to do the work, the janitor? … I dove into my work pile, pouring out every ounce of energy I still had. I used my sharp analytical skills to buzz-saw my way through so much of it, that by noon I felt I’d earned a reward: an all expenses paid trip to the nearby Starbucks.”

Brooke’s slightly flippant attitude seems at odds with her role as sometimes-suspect, sometimes-investigator, but doesn’t quite place her in the same category as Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum. Kaesdorf’s generally well-off cast of characters doesn’t provide the kind of comic relief that Evanovich’s New Jersey working class population does.

Despite inconsistent support from her mentor, harassment from a local homicide detective, eerie warnings from Jeremy’s housekeeper, and secrets neither her brother nor his friends reveal willingly, Brooke finally discovers the “buried truth.” Readers may be surprised by what she finds because, by the end of the novel, Kaesdorf will have led them down more than a few false trails.