Here are the latest book reviews for my novella, ‘Grand Theft Life’
so far only 5/5 stars!
By Peaceseeker on April 30, 2015
This is a riveting read: gripping in the power of the telling, disturbing in the mindset of the teller. It is short enough to be read at one sitting, and fascinating enough to make it difficult to do otherwise. I suspect that the author – as she says about one of her characters – has “read a lot of culturally-sanctioned literature; from Charles Dickens to Jane Austen to Hemingway.” The style is assured and ambitious: crisp, focused and strong.
“The voices. They were incessant. They reminded me I was not like the others.” “There was a meanness about humans, to which I could not relate.” She says of Freddy – the man who snatched her when she was of age – that he was like family she never knew she had. “Maybe I was ready to start making my own Hallmark cards for a year. Ya. Then open my veins in a Sylvia Plath bath.”
Daughter of Darkness is a powerful poetic monologue from someone who felt so different from those she grew up with/around that she concluded she belonged to a different species altogether: one that looks human, and that lives among humans, but is in fact not ‘human’ in the accepted or acceptable sense. One that has no fear of consequences, and that feeds off human fear. You find them in numbers in the dangerous, poverty-stricken, blighted belts of every concrete jungle. They come out at night, and prey on humans whose fear of consequences makes them easy meat. They can also prey on each other when those inner voices scream…
I urge you to read this book. It thoroughly deserves to be widely read.
I enjoyed reading this book. When I started to read, I couldn’t drop it from my hands. I could literary feel that I live in the head of the main character. It was always something happening, in her surroundings, or in her head. I look forward to the next part.
By Jen Morrison on April 2, 2015
This was one of the most difficult books for me to review. I honestly took much longer than I expected to contemplate how to review this book. I had to talk about this book for days before I could coherently organize my thoughts for this post. I could say this book was stunning, amazing, wonderful–all the adjectives I might use for a 5-star review, but I wouldn’t be doing this one justice.
Writers of all ages often wonder about writing the next Great Amercian Novel. Katya Mills has done it. A hundred years ago, if the genre had existed, I believe William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying would have been something like paranormal fiction.
This is a masterpiece of urban fantasy that should be dissected in classrooms and universities. while I may not agree with the socio-political opinions, I recognize the importance of her vivisection of urban gangland. This book kept me engrossed and I even had to reread it before reviewing. I can say that very few books warrant a reread from me, but I got to the end and immediately reread the entire thing.
My first reaction to the first few chapters was, “What the hell?” and I honestly thought I was going to have to pass on reviewing this one, but as I read further on, my opinion sky-rocketed. She left me both confounded, confused, and amazed–and in dire need of a second read. Give this book a place on your shelf and in fifty years when your grandchildren are complaining about their reading in school, remember this moment. They will be complaining about Katya Mills.
By P. Kater on March 25, 2015
Daughter of Darkness is a different kind of fantasy book. It’s tense. Paced. Fast. And it introduces you to a world of people who are different from us. Different in a way you can’t see. Ame, the main character, is one of those different people. She grows up being ‘strange’ and it takes a drastic move and lots of strange encounters and experiences before she realises who she is and what she can do.
I was very entertained by the opposite of the title of the book and how these people, who are so different call themselves. If you want to know what that is I suggest you buy the book and read it.
By frank ramon on March 17, 2015
I have read this book three times and continue to glean more out of the story each time. Told by a protagonist (Ame) who is both good and bad, this tale intertwines adroit commentary on modern culture and the underlying affects of fear on human beings in general. This is all woven together in a well told story of a modern anti hero set on the soulful and gritty streets of Oakland California. From an area well known for earth quakes, the writer will certainly rattle your walls with this story. I eagerly await the next volume in this series, it is a real bargain, for a rich story.
To get a copy of the work reviewed, click on this link … http://www.amazon.com/Daughter-Darkness-Grand-Theft-Life-ebook/dp/B00TKHAU22/
i no longer wait to be inspired to write. one need not wait for rain, to irrigate the land. i block off time every morning to string the words together in a way that captures how i feel. might be 5 words. might be 500. keep digging, you will ultimately find water.
then i turn to some larger body of work – #wip – occupying my every day mind and heart. focus on the immediate work in progress brings me back in alignment with the gods.
Today i prepare some words for a reading… i am fighting… i am grieving the loss of a spiritual teacher… i am celebrating what’s left of winter in california… i am breathing… i am thinking and trying to stay in gratitude… i am in the past… the future… i am breathing… i am curious… i am noticing how sensitive i am… i am noticing how angry i can get… how easily i can give up… how resilient i am… how i fight for my right to be fully awake and alive… i am lucky… i am fortunate… my life has been funny… tragic… almost monotonous at times with repetitions… life is a reality worth facing not running from… full of things i love and hate and have to accept… fear and anger and sadness are various forms of energy… i breathe into them toward some truth… with a wish to live and love and be loved.
How could i harbor ill will toward you in your panda bear pajamas? i asked you please take them off so we could go on fighting. you were making the funny sounds only pandas make. you refused the burgers i cooked us for lunch. i found you terrorizing the plants. thank god the kid was at school. i shoved you in our pet carrier, drove you to the sanctuary and released you deep in the forest. you bounded away. i was at home reading the newspaper days later when i heard and saw your paws on the glass. you were staring at me, head swollen with white hairs growing heavy on your face. such dark circles under and around your eyes. fortunately the kid was at school. i opened the door and you bolted in. you climbed the staircase by the banister and went to hide. i found you in the laundry basket with our clothes. i spoke to you softly. the basket started humming and i knew you understood. all my anger subsided. i could tell your heart was happy. i made a foolish decision, they say. i got myself tiger jammies from deedees, our favorite thrift. the kid was at school. thank god she’s learned the computers so she can pay our bills online, and order all our oats and seeds and plants in bulk from south america. how else would we survive?
For a time we lived in squalor before we won the lottery on a simple scratcher that made us two hundred dollars which we fought about how to distribute, then agreed to use half of it to pay our landlord back, took the remaining hundred to the casino and made a thousand, fought some more after the champagne toast, and paid off our credit card with half of that, took five bills to the race track and made five thousand on Lucky Sinner, invested in a multi level marketing scheme and doubled that on diet pills, took a trip to Hawaii and made love on a beach of hot lava while tripling our profits on bitcoin, bought a Tesla back in the States, drove it to Reno and lost a quarter of our earnings on blackjack, stayed with it, switched to craps, sold our souls to the devil on a payment plan, made it back to black and then some. we saw our luck was yet alive. we sank all our profit into the dark web for a windfall, flipped a few houses in the city, and now we live like kings and queens and pay someone to clean up after us and our drone armada which takes up half our six car garage. i like to watch you race them on the weekends. i have my yoga studio on the mezzanine floor. i can now stand on my head for five minutes and kiss my toes. funny how we still start our day like we did before we had anything: a pot of coffee, cigarettes, and our defiant kinda love. i suppose that’s something hard living gave us. that’s something real and coded with a tang pushing off the aura. i love you. let’s never let it go.
(this story, by Katya Mills, originated on Wattpad.
this trying time
left open. sullen faces
i want to see the best in you
back to books
until i find one
i foster the light i
castigate the shadows or else
to be subsumed
your fingertips might really start pressing
playing the keys and then you know you’re telling the truth
don’t stop. let it all out. don’t answer your phone
for god’s sake don’t go near social media! keep typing
don’t censor your thoughts no matter how awful they may seem to you
they are only thoughts
the magic dust is the truth you are telling
people will be outraged. people will love you and hate you for it.
don’t stop! keep on. your truth is more valuable than anything else!
they say there is life outside but i do not believe them. it’s been twenty years since the last tree stood down on earth. get your tickets, don’t be left behind, join the migration to mars. we really burned this earth. only photos remain of whales and lions and elephants. by last measure humanity numbered under five million. the oldest among us have memories of forests and birds and snails. electricity long since failed. i have not enough money to travel, i guess this is my fate. i burn these books but only to stay warm. i’ve long since exhausted titles by climate change deniers. biographies of pop culture icons. poorly written ghost writer crap. god forbid the day i have to tap into my classics.