jenknox's Reviews (494)


A Family of Sicilians is a compilation of short stories and poetry that bring a reader into the world of Sicilian culture and tradition. Many of the poems are presented in both Italian and English, to emphasize the varying cadence of the words in each tongue. The stories are short and quick-witted, and laugh-out-loud funny. I highly recommend this book!

In Jupiter's Shadow is a memoir that interweaves stories from childhood and young adulthood as Greg Gerard searches to understand his own desires and develop a clear sense of identity.
The scenes recaptured from Gerard's coming-of-age tale are vivid and well-written. The reader is introduced to an imaginative young boy, who craves adventures like those he reads about in mystery stories and feels a sort of disconnect from a dynamic cast of family members. Gerard recounts his desire to belong and yet he feels a sort of wanderlust and longing that he can't quite pinpoint at a young age. "Everybody seemed to know who they were. And how to belong. Everybody except me."
Meanwhile, the exposition in these scenes is subtle, and instead of being told what Gerard thinks, the reader is given beautiful and heartrending portrayals of a young boy's grasping at meaning. Grappling with his family's devout Catholic beliefs, he sets out to prove at a young age that he too is good and wholesome, that he belongs. He reads "Our Lady of Fatima" and is so moved to emulate the sacrifice of the children in this story that he attempts to sleep on boards, secretly, in order to redeem the souls of sinners. Such scenes are heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time, and they paint the portrait of a boy who merely wants to do what he's been taught is right. Meanwhile, it seems that the tug of something else, something mysterious, is tempting Greg toward a different truth from that of his parents' beliefs and toward an identity that does not fit that which he feels he has to live up to. There is a sense of mystery to the world of this little boy that, at first, seems ominous and worrisome, but ends up being the very thing that will give him the answers he desires and teach him to define, for himself, a path that isn't so much rebellious as it is necessary.
This is a story about religion and sexuality; it is a story about family and wanting to fit in; but mostly, this is a story about the human experience, and what it means to be and feel whole, to develop a clear sense of identity, and to demystify patterns of behavior that, when kept secret, can truly act as a destructive force to a person's psyche. This is a brave and beautiful book about self-acceptance, and just how tough it is to achieve. Moreover, it's a fine piece of writing.
I can't recommend it highly enough.

I read the first Safety Factor, and I have to say that it’s difficult to not compare the two, writing-wise. The language in this book is cleaner; the characters dialogue is less forced. The story—the heart—just as strong as the first one; and here’s where I come around to what I enjoyed, immensely, about this book:

The plot itself and the dynamics of it are well-executed. There is a protagonist whose power stems from his intelligence, and a love story that drives the plot forward with the particular momentum only a realistically-painted romance can bring. All of the female characters in this book are bruised, in some way, by their pasts, which I found to be interesting but perhaps a bit overwhelming. Nonetheless, there are important issues here that do need to be discussed, and often the setting of a fictional story—in this case, a story that includes time travel—is the only place society can handle the reality of such issues without turning a blind eye or resorting to a “blame the victim” mentality. I love that what drives this book is a genuine sense of empathy and understanding, a love that transcends all of space time. And, like the first Safety Factor book, there is a wealth of technical and mathematical information weaved into the story that educates and stimulates the reader, even a reader like me, whose best subjects in school were surely not math or science. I love reading a book that I can finish and actually learn something from while being entertained.

Marvin D. Wilson has a hilarious blog that I follow, and his writing and unique sense of humor there made me want to read more of his work. The first line in the preface of this book is "A crackhead wrote this book," which I found blatantly honest and it made me immediately trust the author to tell me the truth. Maybe I'm reading too far into the abrupt opening, but I read it as though the author were saying, 'there, so we got that out of the way, so the stigma that goes with my past, and all the stereotypes you have in tow, reader, bring it! We're going for a ride...' and we do. Wilson takes the reader through his journey from addict to work-o-holic to spiritually fit and incredibly likable guy.
Throughout, the book moves quickly, and herein lies my critique. It moved too quickly in places, moving with such an intensity and authorial humor that it almost seemed to read as though the author were in a hurry to get beyond the gritty stuff and not dwell in any one scene (gritty or not) for too long. That made it read more like a long essay than a memoir, to me, and when it comes to memoir, I'm picky.
That said, it was clean, insightful, funny and I do recommend it to just about anyone who enjoys a good inspirational tale that doesn't try to shove messages down a reader's throat.

Misinformation and misunderstanding when it comes to relationships is nothing new to me. Yet, I doubt I would've picked this book off the the shelf now; after all, I'm happy, so why spend time reading about how another person found love? OK, so that establishes my bias going in to this book. I didn't expect such a great storyteller to emerge, and I was pleasantly surprised.

This is what I enjoy about meeting authors-every now and then (often, lately), they surprise me. As a reader, I am not easy company to keep. My reviews only reflect books I finish, and let me assure you, I finish only a fraction of those I open or sample.

As I read Love through the Eyes of an Idiot I caught myself nodding in places as though I were in conversation with the author. I could relate to so many of the blunders and subsequent insights (gender aside). What's more, I admire a memoirist who can own up to his faults and mistakes, who is able to examine his own actions without making excuses. Making oneself the hero of a book is a hell of a lot easier than examining the human condition (there is no formula or clear plot outline for real life!). This endearing and well-written tale is a very human, down to earth, and downright enjoyable read.

Many books take on the subject of mental illness, many more are set in psychiatric wards, but usually these are narratives that recount a single story or perspective. What distinguishes Memoirs from the Asylum is the fact that the reader is introduced not only to individuals in a mental institution but the larger community of the institutionalized lifestyle. Ken Weene introduces his reader to numerous, dynamically-drawn characters that absolutely come alive on the page, not only through their private battles but how these patients interact and perceive the institution they’ve been relegated to. This is a powerful portrayal of what life is in an institutionalized setting and how corruption can and does exist for some residents. He brings up real problems that are often not discussed, and humanizes his characters in a way that few authors have been able to. I hope this book gets the attention it deserves because it is truly an eye-opening tale(s) that demands a reader’s attention and empathy for those who are often shunned or ignored by society. Read it.

This is a gloriously fun and uplifting tale. There are traces of magic and the theme is centered on the mystical properties that are always at work in the (true) creative process. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was inspirational, and I recommend it to artists of all genres as well as anyone who enjoys a good, quick-moving story.

Schopenhauer said that life is like a dream in that the reality a person creates is merely a reflection of mind. Kant said it, too. Probably, Kant said it first... Anyway, this is the philosophy that drives Deadly Lucidity. It is the story of a woman whose actual dream state becomes a tumultuous but also romantic journey that might become, the reader thinks, her reality. At times, I wanted her to escape; at times, I wanted her to stay. The question that drives it all, of course, is what is real? Her dreams or the life she left behind, which becomes a sort of dream in of itself. A great book by a fellow author at All Things That Matter Press. I'm honored to be in such good company.

While global warming's effects pique and as people attempt to find meaning, despite a crumbling society, in personal relationships and faltering businesses, Michael Davis--the creator of this tale--has chosen to be idealistic enough to speculate that bookstores will still be around. This seems silly, but it endeared me to this book immediately (evidence of my reading addiction, I suppose).

Going deeper, I have to say that Davis has really taken on some huge issues without resorting to a pandering, preachy sort of of storytelling. He allows his readers to really get to know his characters; characters who, as they go through various life changes that represent different changes in society that have been burgeoning for sometime, are not only believable, but relatable and humbling.

Davis pulled off a neat trick: he has tackled large, looming issues, and managed to work them into such a concise and easy-to-read story. I'm impressed by his ability to engage me as a reader, but more, his ability to inject multiple meaning into each subplot and each character's action.