Strange Corners of the Multiverse 7-19-19

Feline Gunslinger
created by Alex Washoe
Art by Victor Valdez

It occurred to me lately that I possess a blog, which I seldom make adequate use of, and a seemingly endless stream of opinions about pop culture subjects. Since I’m always telling myself I should blog more often, the solution seems obvious.

First off, I’d just like to say — I really like the Cats trailer. I know that hasn’t been the prevailing opinion on the internet, but to me it feels whimsical and fun. And I already know I love the music. The cast is awesome. I’m excited about it.

I saw the play on Broadway many years ago. At the time I was bumming around New York, basically hiding from my family who had gotten it into their heads that I’d be a good fit for the military (it’s like they didn’t even know me) and I had some time to kill so I scrounged up cheap tickets to every show I could see. I saw Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin in Sunday in the Park With George. I also saw Anthony Quinn in Zorba the Greek and Sigourney Weaver and John Hurt in Hurlyburly. But the play I remember the best — even though I can’t name of the cast — was Cats.

I remember that I was sitting on the upper level — not very good seats really — and as soon as the lights went down and the music started, these shadowy figures started to spill out from backstage, running up and down the isles, scurrying through the balcony. Cats — actors dressed as cats — all over the theater. The spookiness and fun of those moments stayed with me every since.

There’s a wide range of opinion out there — a lot more than you’d expect from just a first trailer. (And I understand the irony of saying that as I add to the volume). With any kind of art or entertainment, you expect people who like it and people who don’t — and a whole lot of people in the middle who could care less. This post over by M. Arbeiter over at The Nerdist kind of sums up some of my feelings. Meanwhile, there’s this post at The Mary Sue, by Rachel Leishman — a site and a writer I often agree with — that I don’t get at all.

I’m going to let it go at that, except to throw in one of my favorite meme-quotes:

“Promote what you love instead of bashing what you hate.”


I’m also really excited by the news that Brandon Routh will be playing Superman again this fall. He was the very best part of the disappointing Superman Returns. (Which was still way, way better than Man of Steel). For the past four years or so (actually longer because he originated the part on Arrow) he’s been playing Ray Palmer, aka The Atom, on DC’s Legends of Tomorrow. Routh is one of those actors who just looks like he was born to play a comic book character. His earnest charm and awkward good looks are pure Clark Kent. In Superman Returns, he looks like the ghost of Christopher Reeve. Now we have the news he’ll be suiting up as Supes in the annual Arrowverse cross-over — this time based on the classic Crisis on Infinite Earths storyline. Apparently, there will be two versions of The Man of Steel in the crossover — because Tyler Hoechlin, who already plays the Arrowverse version of Superman, will also be in action.

Can’t leave the Arrowverse without mentioning the biggest news of the season for me. Fall will see the premier of Ruby Rose as Batwoman:

This is fabulous on a lot of levels. Kate Kane — aka Batwoman — is one of the most dynamic characters in the DC Universe, and one not widely known outside the hard core fans. Her backstory, being drummed out of the military under Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell is extremely relevant at this moment in time. Powerful female and LGBTQ representation is vital and this show looks to increase the Arrowverse’s already strong showing. I’m psyched.

I like to share my current writing projects and other topics of interest with my readers. If you want to stay connected, you can join my newsletter here:

You can check out my Westbrook Siblings Western Adventure Series, starting with Book 1 A Land of Iron here.

The Jinx Ballou Bounty Hunter Series by Dharma Kelleher

LGBTQ fiction too often seems to fall into predictable categories — romance and coming out being the most common. What we never seem to get enough of is genre fiction featuring LGBTQ characters who are living their lives and doing their jobs in a way that is informed, but not defined, by their sexuality or gender identity.

Enter Jinx Ballou.

The hero of Dharma Kelleher’s Chaser is a bounty hunter. Tough, smart and determined to bring her quarry in no matter what it takes.

If it sounds like we’re in Jane Evanovich territory here, you’re right. Jinx owes something to Stephanie Plum and there’s even a thinly veiled nod to the New Jersey bounty hunter early in the book. But Jinx is tougher and grittier than Ms. Plum ever was.

Jinx leads her own team of hunters, having broken away from her boyfriend’s business when the pressures of working together and being in a relationship became too much. She has the respect of her male co-workers, a supportive family — and her hunky Irish boyfriend. When she’s not hunting down criminals, she likes to cos-play as Wonder Woman for local conventions.

But all that changes when an interview with a local newspaper goes bad and the reporter outs Jinx as trans. Suddenly the men don’t want to work with her, the bail bondsmen don’t want to hire her, and she’s in a jam. The only case she can find is a runaway teenager murder suspect, and that pursuit puts her in the sights of human traffickers, bigoted colleagues, and the local police. To survive, she has to smarter and tougher than all of them.

I enjoyed this book so much that I went straight on to the second book in the series.

With Book 2, the Jinx Ballou series really levels up. Book 1 is enjoyable and entertaining because Jinx herself is such a strong character, but Book 2 expands her world, developing her supporting cast, and giving Jinx even more depth and resonance.

In Extreme Prejudice, Jinx rises above just being a bounty hunter, to become a protector of her community and a champion of the vulnerable.

Together these two books are a strong start to what we can only hope will be a long-running series.

Both books are highly recommended.

I like to share my current writing projects and other topics of interest with my readers. If you want to stay connected, you can join my newsletter here

You can check out my Westbrook Siblings Western Adventure Series, starting with Book 1 A Land of Iron here.

Cover Reveal:
The Big Die-Up

The Westbrooke Saga Continues!

Release Date: February 11, 2019

Wyoming Territory, December 1886.

Rebecca Westbrooke journeys to Cheyenne, desperate to find investors to sustain her fledgling cattle Co-op as a brutal winter closes in.  Meanwhile, her brother Lucas is trying to adjust to life on the Owl’s Rest Ranch. After years of drifting, he’s chafing under the weight of responsibilities he never wanted to take on. And Jasmine, the former saloon girl Lucas loves, is obsessed with decorating the house for Christmas – and terrified of choosing between the person she loves and the home she’s always dreamed of.

But powerful interests have the Westbrook lands in their sights. And hired killers are already on Rebecca’s trail.

Bound by their love for each other, torn apart by their fears and doubts, the Westbrooke family must stand together against outside enemies and the betrayal of old friends.

Riding into a storm that will change the face of the West forever.

And don’t miss the first thrilling Westbrooke Siblings Adventure, free on Kindle February 9th through February 13th!

Lucas Westbrooke (born Lucy) walked away from his home and the family who couldn’t accept him, vowing to earn a reputation with a quick draw and a deadly aim. He found freedom in a wider world where no one cared where he came from or who he had once been.

Rebecca Westbrooke has spent her life caring for the ranch her father built. Refusing to marry for security, she fights to hold on in the face of a falling market, sabotage, and pressure from those who would prefer to see her lands controlled by a man. She still mourns the twin sister she loved but didn’t understand.

When a dime novelist starts asking questions about the Westbrooke family and the range war that forged their empire, Lucas is drawn home to the one place where he can never be accepted on his own terms. And when those questions lead to murder, the estranged siblings must work together to unravel the truth about their father’s death — before they become the next victims.

The Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin

 Sometimes, certain books come along at just the right moment in our lives.  And sometimes they come along much later.  Not too late, but not at the time we really needed them.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. When I was growing up in the dark prehistoric ages before the internet — before cable TV even — certain ideas and concepts just weren’t available to my young mind. I read ravenously, everything I could get my hands on, without any real restrictions from my parents, but I knew literally nothing about sexual identity or gender expression.  I remember reading a couple of early news stories about people like Renee Richards, a tennis player who had male-to-female reassignment surgery in the 1970’s — but it was mostly the stuff of punchlines or baffled magazine articles.  One time I tried to talk about one of those articles with my mom — who a vocal feminist and pretty enlightened person for that time and that place (Southern America, firmly inside the Bible Belt).  Her reply was, “Why would anyone want to do that?”

I never heard the words “transgender” or even “transsexual”. In fact, I was a teenager before I ever knew anyone who was openly Gay.  And the depictions of LGBTQ people in the media at that time ranged from non-existent to ridiculous to condescendingly tragic.

It’s hard not to look back and wonder what my life would have been like if I’d had those images — if concepts like gender non-conforming, gender fluid and non-binary had been available to me when I was figuring out who I was. (A puzzle I’ve never even come close to solving.)

So I have quietly been making a list of books and other media that I think of as “Things I Wish Had Existed When I Was A Kid”.

Very close to the top of that list is The Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin.

Riley Cavanaugh is a high school student and the child of a US Senator, from a very conservative district in Orange County. On top of the usual teenage rebellion, Riley (who spent some time in a psychiatric hospital after trying to wash down a bottle of Xanax with booze) is beginning to understand what it means to be gender fluid.  Some days, Riley wakes up feeling like a girl, some days like a boy — and some days neither.

Riley’s father is trying to pass an important new public education bill, and so Riley moves from a private Catholic school (which was hell, but where at least the uniform requirement eliminated the decision of what to wear every morning) to a public school in their district.

Maybe public school will be different, maybe Riley can find a place to fit in and not be the constant target of abuse.  Maybe.  Or maybe not.

But there are new friends to be made: a Star Wars loving Samoan football player called Solo, and Bec, an intriguing girl with a lip ring and lightsaber blue eyes.

On the advice of a therapist, Riley begins an anonymous blog about being gender fluid — and that blog takes off when other teenagers find it and relate to Riley’s struggle.  Suddenly, the isolated outsider has a (virtual) community, a cause to fight for, and (maybe) a girlfriend.

But not everyone is willing to accept Riley on Riley’s terms. And when one of those enemies make the connection between the weird kid in school and the blogger, everything Riley cares about (and Congressman Cavanaugh’s re-election) is put in jeopardy.

The Symptoms of Being Human is a heartbreakingly good book about a main character you can’t help but love and cheer for. A young adult novel that is rich enough for readers of all ages — even for the confused inner children of people who needed books like this a long time ago.

Thank goodness we have them now.

Under My Skin by A.E. Dooland

When was the last time a book hooked you so deeply you actually worried about the characters when you weren’t reading?

“I’m writing because I wish these stories had been available for me to read when I was dealing with some tough identity issues, and I want them to be available to other people who are struggling.” — A.E. Dooland



I found Under My Skin sort of by accident.  I was looking for fiction that featured nonbinary/transgender characters and I was drawn in by the fun, playful cover.  I have a weakness for sweet LGBTQ romance stories and that is what I expected here. (I did notice that the book is much longer than most romance novels, and that gave me a moment of pause.) By the time I realized that Under My Skin was a lot more than that — not the breezy lighthearted romance I expected — I was too in love to quit.

Fair warning:  This book disrupted my sleep cycle for several nights running.  I simply could not stop reading.  And it does have its breezy, wonderful romantic moments — a lot of them.  But they’re set in a story about the price of hiding who you really are (from the world and yourself) and the cost of coming out (to the world and to yourself.)

Ming Lee is a Korean/Australian woman living in Sydney.  She has a great job in the marketing department of an international mining corporation, a boyfriend who is almost too perfect, and a comfortable home that she loves.

But underneath the surface, she is restless and unsatisfied. She has extreme body issues, almost no social life, and has been drinking too much.  When she paints a portrait of herself as a man, it sets off a series of events that will change everything in her life.

Part of the power of this novel is the main character.  I was in love with Ming from the start — not just sympathetic or interested — head over heels in love.  Then comes her best friend at work, Sarah, her incredibly perceptive (except where it really counts) boyfriend Henry, and Bree — a troubled schoolgirl force of nature who finds Ming’s paintings on Deviant Art and storms into her life like a hurricane. All these characters quickly became friends that I cared about and rooted for.

And there are a couple I could really hate.

As Ming’s life spirals more and more out of control, there were parts of this novel so intense I had to put the book (ok, the e-reader) down — and then I just continued to worry about the characters and be anxious about what would happen to them until I went back.  It’s kind of a cliché to say a story made you laugh and cry, but this one did — and hit just about every emotion in between.

So, even though this is a long book, I never once felt bored or thought that it went on too long.  I didn’t want it to end.

Which is good because there are two more books in this series.  Flesh and Blood, which is a sequel, continuing Ming’s story, and Solve for ί, which deals with some of the supporting characters from Under My Skin.

I totally intend to read them both.  But I need to catch my breath for a moment first.