“Pick up the pace, Dee!”
The Dome starts with a flurry and never lets up. Suzanne Craig-Whytock masterfully describes to us the world of 2135 – a dystopian failure recovering from the Water Wars in typical authoritarian fashion – through the eyes of twin young characters in alternating chapters growing up with no knowledge of the things we take for granted – freedom, equality, plenty. Luckily, Craig-Whytock introduces us, as the story goes along, to the most essential ingredient necessary for human survival (and novel success): hope.
The Dome is a coming of age story, a science fiction gem, and a cautionary tale of what can happen when society breaks down. It is also a reminder that, even in our worst of times, there are those who rise above and do the hard work of making society better.
Dive in. Adanac awaits.
That, my friends, is my first ever official review of a product I bought on Amazon. It is also my friend Suzanne’s 2nd published novel, and it’s a good one. I mean it. As we all watch our news feeds and wonder if the novel coronavirus is the end of society as we know it (it isn’t, I promise) Suzanne treats us to a story of a society that has already fallen, shows us what that looks like, and gives us hope that humanity can rise again. She also gives the kids superpowers, and you know how much I love superpowers. Good work, Suzanne. I can’t wait for The Rock.
In the meantime I won’t keep y’all long here on TBT today. Since last we talked some more stuff has happened. The virus spread across the globe. My store went into survival mode. I found out I was essential. The Rams changed their logo, and everyone hates it.
But as the world descends into chaos and the American buffoon plays his fiddle, it’s surprising how quickly the big things become little. You know I’m a huge football fan, and an even huge-r Rams fan, but all that seems to mean very little to me right now. My neighbor is out of work, in lockdown, and home with the kids. She’s stressed. Our county has seen only three coronavirus cases, but already one death. The toilet paper is gone. Folks are scared.
The buffoon has mishandled everything from the start, this is widely known. As is his standard MO he says contradictory things over and over and then claims he’s been consistent. Everyone forgets that he didn’t pen the term “fake news,” the term was a label about him that he adopted and turned around on others. The ultimate purveyor of falsehood claiming everyone else is false. The Lord of Lies. Tell me the universe doesn’t have a sense of humor when it takes a bumbling fool, lifts him into power, and then hands him the reins during our world’s most critical plight. Of course he’d fumble the ball, that’s what fools do.
But enough about him, and enough about that. We’re here for hope. Last night, I went online to see if I could order Mrs C’s favorite tortillas direct from the factory (since the shelves are bare) and I succeeded. 48 tortillas, a veritable 6-week supply, en route. Her smile was worth the day.
I also got on a waiting list at Charmin. I’m nothing if not internet-resourceful.
I’ll let you get back to your hand washing and hand-wringing now. I get it. Believe me. There are times during the day when exhaustion washes over me like a … thing that washes over another thing … and I stop to recognize myself. I compartmentalize very well. The stress and worry are carefully boxed away as I go through my day handling the chores of running a business and running a household but, sometimes, that box opens. Sometimes, involuntarily, I let some of the pressure out. Be sure to do that, folks, let the pressure out of the box, wherever you keep it, so it doesn’t blow.
That’s all I have for you today. New Rams logo. Same dumb president. Tortillas. Sanity.
And Suzanne’s great book.
Be well, my friends. Stay safe. Good health to you. 🍻