Natalie Off the Page

The Bone Cover

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Wed, 23 Oct 2013 17:51:00 +0000

whether it's paper thin

blue ink flowing through a fragile fountain

just below the surface

or thick and sinewy

a seeming impenetrable barrier to the bonehouse within

it is both vulnerable and resilient

taken for granted and mistaken for identity

the measure of beauty's depth

capable of shape shifting according to the beholding eyes,

a vast organ knitted together by single cells

that started in the sea of starfall

making each cover of water, spread over the marrow beds

that lie planted underneath

exhaling their whole lives in this murky pool

like fallen branches floating moss covered until threadless decay

returns them to the earthy womb

the dark matter tomb from which they sprung

to feed the atoms still waiting

to become what they will.

Burial Rites: An Arresting Literary Debut

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Fri, 18 Oct 2013 15:56:00 +0000

The first thing that struck me about this story is its similarity to Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter: this is the story of a woman wearing not a literal A for adultery, but stigmatized with M for murderess. The second peculiar literary kinship is with Nabokov's Lolita, which portrays a villain as a sympathetic character, a protagonist committing obvious evil acts that the reader fights NOT to identify with and internally "root for" as we do most heroes/heroines. The protagonist in Burial Rites, however, is not so obviously evil, at least not to the extent that we can be absolutely sure of. Based on a true story and a real person's life, Burial Rites attempts to give a more ambiguous portrayal of Agnes Magnusdottir, an Icelandic woman convicted for her role in two murders committed in 1828. Author Hannah Kent has carefully and painstakingly researched this woman's life, the cultural and historical landscapes of nineteenth-century Iceland, and all available documents recounting the incident that occurred on a remote farm in northern Iceland. Kent noticed while researching that many records portrayed Agnes as a "witchy woman," a flawed stereotype historically attached to the female archetype that strays from behaviors, ideas, and images that have been deemed socially and culturally acceptable; when we think of violent crimes and serial killers, for example, we usually expect these people to be men. When it's a woman, she gets cast as a "witch" – inherently evil and incapable of human empathy. As Jeanette Winterson, author of The Daylight Gate and numerous other dark fantasy novels, notes, “The woman as witch happens historically when the idea of the Goddess, with her power and sexuality, is too threatening to be allowed in the social order. The witch is both fearful and fascinating, as women are. But if she gets tricky, you can always burn her.” I might add that this female version of power, and the divine, only becomes a threat in patriarchal societies, in which men traditionally occupy roles of leadership, political power, and dominance in relationships. Agnes especially wears this black hat in the comparatively less progressive nineteenth century, when gender roles were much more entrenched, as is evident in the other characters' initial reaction to the idea of a female killer: they at first refuse to even call her by her name and instead refer to her as "the murderess." It’s as if her crime, certainly not new to human experience, is so taboo for a woman that she doesn’t even deserve a human identity with a personal name. That is precisely the stigma that this book seeks to subvert, and in my experience of reading it, the author far exceeded her goal. This is one of the most beautiful and gut-wrenching explorations of the human condition I’ve ever read. I was crying by the end.

By the end, Agnes has transformed from an impersonal “murderess” to Agnes, a 33-year-old woman with a difficult past and traumatic childhood. By the end, we have listened along with the family charged with the responsibility of holding her in custody until her execution date to the story of an abused woman whose lover and employer exploited affections and work roles for his selfish interests. We have come to understand that yes, while this woman did plunge a knife into a dying man’s stomach, it was motivated by love and empathy, like putting a suffering animal out of its misery, and not a premeditated crime of passion as her prosecutors have misconstrued the events. As Agnes laments to Toti, her chosen spiritual counselor, “To know what a person has done, and to know who a person is, are very different things….It’s not fair. People claim to know you through the things you’ve done, and not by sitting down and listening to you speak for yourself….No matter if your innermost self whispers, ‘I am not as you say!’—how other people think of you determines who you are” (Kent 103-04). And so the reader agonizes with Agnes and the people who have come to know her as the human being, at the injustice of ambiguous circumstances in which one human tried to show mercy to another and is now denied mercy in facing the ultimate punishment: her own life for that which she took.

Above all, this book asks the reader to see a human being as an individual with a unique set of circumstances that made her into the person you see in the present moment, regardless of actions that tempt our human minds to judge, label, and group into mass categories of faceless offenders. It's the old adage, you can't know a person until you've walked a mile in her shoes. Burial Rites is a darkly poetic walk through the last six months of a condemned woman's life told in alternating points of view to restore balance to an unfairly skewed history (or, in this case, herstory).

Life: Keeping = Losing

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 17:54:00 +0000

Asher jerks back to "life--and death" (McCollum 9) when he attends to the fallen angel on his car. In focusing on life, he automatically focuses on death too.

I think the question, "Are you suicidal?" is a hilarious one because A) In the intended context, who isn't? and B) As if being suicidal were not necessary to stay alive.

Every time I cross the street, I am aware that I COULD allow a car to hit me. Maybe Auryn has been aware her entire angel existence that she could fall into traffic like she has now done. When I cross the street, my first thought is not, "Hang on to your life! Don't let a car take it!" One, Jesus warns against that: "Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it" (Luke 17:33 NIV). Two, I don't like exerting the energy to think that defensively. Three, I wouldn't mind that much if I did get hit. Am I hurling my body at the nearest hood? No. That requires great energy, too. I'm walking across the street when it appears that no cars are coming. I'm not running. I'm not lying down on the yellow line. I'm in the medium place where you are at peace and enjoy most of what you do because you feel it is optional.

Being a tiny bit hateful of your life often gives you the motivation needed to keep it.

We Are But Dust and Shadow

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 19:51:00 +0000

"Pulvis et umbra sumus" is the latin phrase for "we are but dust and shadow" used in Ashes to Angels. This statement is partially true, true enough for me to gladly expand upon it.

Our bodies are just water essentially. Everything physical is made up of the same particles we are. We all eat the sun. We all eat the water. We are all various combinations of light. This means we're also dust and shadow. Dust is basically evaporated water. Shadow is "evaporating" light. When you burn a body, there's nothing left. This explains our physical makeup--the partial truth.

But we're more than that, of course. I'm sure the speaker of this line knows that. The statement in seemingly being so hopeless is actually a hopeful reassurance, as if to suggest that since we are but dust and shadow physically, we don't have to worry about that much. It humbles us. It associates us with the essence of the earth, reminds us that we're all in this together.

The part that is not dust and shadow is the soul. And I believe the soul never dies. Can never disintegrate. Can merely be moved from this plane to that, this experience to that. This dusty body to that dusty body.

Moths Instead of Angels

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 22:39:00 +0000

Yes, it's depressing, pessimistic, but it's also realistic. Even if reality has dualistic folds. "The world is calling for angels. / But all it gets are moths beating in cracked / street lamps after hours at 2 a.m" (McCollum 7). I want to eat this line, it's so tasty!

On my despairing (drinking) days, I scorn all the do-gooders, the charities, the churches, the nice parents, the crappy parents, even my own friends, and I think, What's the frickin' point? What does any of it matter? It's all crap. Power's in the hands of the few, not the masses. You can't make any noticeable change for any noticeable amount of time, unless it's negative change.

It doesn't even bother me that much anymore. I'm pretty numb to it. I am used to the moths beating into the after-last-call street lamps. BUT. And this is a big but. I do believe in angels. And sometimes I think this belief rather than offsetting propels my negative mentality. Because I know there are angels guiding us, giving us strength, protecting us and STILL the world is such a mess. It's like shoveling a snow bank with a spoon.

Yet somehow (maybe through the angels) hope comes, allowing me to gaze at moths in artistic inspiration.

Fender Wing

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 17:29:00 +0000

Auryn the angel falls from grace, the sky, high hopes, wherever, and hits the fender of Asher's car. She is compared to women who have "loved dangerously / and cut [themselves] on ragged emotion" (McCollum 7). Her wings are missing. Asher attributes this to her soullessness. "The burden of soul had fallen off in halves at the shoulder" (McCollum 7). What burden was too heavy to carry anymore? Why did she choose to fall to earth?

She hits the FENDER of his car. A fender is the part that protects the wheel and is often referred to as a "wing." Where can the wing of the car take Auryn that her now missing wings couldn't? The wing that's not improving Asher's mood as he's smoking his self-misery in his car after a therapy session. Where could the wing take her? To the bar? To drink away her sorrow? Or to introduce a certain kind of sorrow? An expensive sorrow? To the grocery store, to buy some juice to cure the hangover from the first place of refuge? Are the fender wings that could rust, that must stop flapping in traffic sometimes, that have to be paid for even as they're motionless on the side of the road, in a parking lot, better than those "heavy, heavy wings infested with human matter and laden with the stuff of poets" (McCollum 7) that Auryn just shed?

The reader shall find out!

No Heaven for No Hell

noreply@blogger.com (Kira) — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 21:30:00 +0000

From "Last Call--with our without Wings": "Maybe we don't have to Imagine, John. / We have no heaven in exchange for no hell" (7 McCollum).

In case anyone is not familiar with John Lennon's song "Imagine," it functions on idealism. Imagine there is no possession. Imagine there is no war. Imagine everybody loves everybody and we are happy.

Natalie's counter implies that there is no more wishful thinking needed, there is no more fight to attain this realm or leave that realm. She suggests an equilibrium state where, perhaps, each person is responsible for himself and each act is open for interpretation--is not bad, is not good, just is. Isn't it true that there really is no definitive line separating acts (or realms)?

If I murder someone, am I bad? Wonder if the person I murdered is "bad?" Then, what makes him bad and me good? Who decides? It's all subjective, yes? Or dependent on intention? Did I take pleasure in seeing someone suffer? Or was I just seeking revenge and I killed him swiftly, "righteously"? The "truth" is found more in the faith of ours acts than the acts themselves. This means that we create our own hells and our own heavens by self-punishment or self-liberation and this means that we can also dissolve them both.

Imagine . . .

book trailer!

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 17:24:00 +0000

This summer...

...don't forget your wings.

"Spreading the love of literature...and dirty vampires."

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 19:11:00 +0000

My super-savvy agent got me this review. I'm quite amused with it. 4 out of 5 ravens!

www.bibliophilicbookblog.com/2011/01/book-review-ashes-to-angels-by-natalie.html

Punkin House: All things new- usually have problems =)

noreply@blogger.com (ADMIN) — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 19:26:00 +0000

Punkin House: All things new- usually have problems =): "Hey world! Things are looking up for Punkin House! We are moving at lightning speed, as usual. And with that, comes errors. Lets put this ..."

Punkin House: Our Final Facelift

noreply@blogger.com (ADMIN) — Wed, 26 Jan 2011 17:46:00 +0000

Punkin House: Our Final Facelift: "Hey World! Check out our new look....Um, again! We finally have all of our buttons updated, though I think we are having an issue with th..."

coffee, anyone?

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 19:34:00 +0000

Asher and Auryn are camped out at the Ohio Coffee Company, thanks to my friend, Nathan. He works at this artsy little coffee shop in downtown Dayton and helped me get a copy of Ashes to Angels in the store for sale. It's perched up there on the counter with a local folk musician's CD, a literary zine, and some irresistible vegan baked goods by a local baker. So, you can get your good eats and good reads all in one great place while supporting art and independent business!

Ohio Coffee Company is located at 46 W. 5th Street.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Dayton-OH/The-Ohio-Coffee-Co/119544159721?v=wall&ref=ts

Asher and Auryn are going places!

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 16:13:00 +0000

My brother recently asked if he could read my novel, now that it's published. I told him he should buy it, and then yeah, sure he could read it. (I get a little smart-alecky sometimes.) Of course, he made the case for blood-relation privileges -- as family, he should get special access to my personal copies. So, where is my author stash?

It seems that Asher and Auryn, co-stars of the book, have taken it beyond my bookshelf in my little rat-trap hotel . . . oh, wait, that's their line and their living situation . . . excuse me, my little motel-room of an apartment. As mentioned in the previous post, Dark Star Books & Comics in Yellow Springs has two copies for sale -- yep, straight from the author's stash. And more recently, the editor of the Dayton City Paper requested a loaner copy from me for the purpose of doing a book review and interview next month! So, DCP readers, look for an article in about a month.

Then, I suppose, I will give in and lend it to my brother . . . doesn't look like my own book is going to be on my bookshelf for a while. Make sure it's on yours! :)

Ashes in Yellow Springs!

noreply@blogger.com (Natalie) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 18:41:00 +0000

Ashes to Angels is now available at Dark Star books in Yellow Springs, Ohio! Hurry to hippie town to get your copy off the "Local Authors" shelf. Support independent, local business by purchasing at a non-chain book store. Some of the manuscript of Ashes was actually written on location in the coffee shop, Dino's Cappuccinos, a few doors down. You might even have an "author-sighting" while you're there -- Natalie tends to hang out in Yellow Springs when she's looking for writing inspiration. So, grab a coffee, get your copy of the novel, and have an altogether authentic, extra-literary experience!

www.darkstarbookstore.com

Ashes to Angels Review

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 19:33:00 +0000

Ashes to Angels has received an outstanding review on BookSteve's Library.

Check out the review, and don't forget to grab a copy of Ashes to Angels in print, ebook or epub formats.

Debut Novel : Ashes to Angels

noreply@blogger.com (ADMIN) — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 16:17:00 +0000

What if an angel fell in love with an atheist? What if this fallen angel was precisely that because she cut off her own wings – with scissors? A love story told as a horror story and a horror story told as a love story, my stream-of-conscious narrative is raw and edgy as the hipster characters whose blended voices color much of the ink like a literary tattoo.