Blog Archives
Ida Chatfield
The book follows the life of Ida Chatfield and tells her story from childhood on the Missouri River to her disappearance in Aspen in 1886. It mixes historical records with imagined moments that fill in the spaces between the facts. It feels like a full life unfolding, even though her real life ended at only eighteen. The book also weaves in real news articles that reported her missing and later confirmed her death. The mix of truth and imagination gives the whole thing a strange and lingering weight.
While reading, I often felt pulled into Ida’s voice. The writing felt warm at times and then cold in a way that mirrors frontier life. I found myself caring for Ida as if she were someone I’d once known. Her memories of Nebraska and Colorado felt vivid and earthy. The sadness around the deaths in her family hit me harder than I expected, especially the loss of her sister Jennie. The author sits close to Ida’s emotions and lets her tell the story in a plain and honest way. That plainness worked on me. It made the mystery of her final night feel personal.
The book pushes you to think about how people in the past were misunderstood, especially women. It shows how easily a person’s life can be shaped and misshaped by the stories others tell. The newspapers tried to fit Ida into neat explanations that never felt right. Reading those old clippings frustrated me. They felt careless and quick to judge, and it hurt to see how little room she had to define herself. At the same time, the fictional pieces brought her back to life with softness and patience. I loved that contrast because it made me think about how we all want to be remembered for who we were, not for the blur of a headline.
By the end, I felt a quiet ache for Ida and for every forgotten person whose life was cut short or brushed aside. The book works for readers who enjoy historical nonfiction but want more heart in the telling. It also works for readers who crave a mystery that will never be perfectly solved yet still offers something meaningful. I would recommend it to anyone who loves frontier history, family stories, and character-driven tales filled with emotion.
Pages: 280 | ASIN : B0FHJVCV7V
Sousanna: The Lost Daughter
In the aftermath of World War II, the world was in a state of flux. Countries devastated by the war faced the daunting task of rebuilding while their citizens grappled with profound changes in their lives. Greece, in particular, was further battered by the onslaught of a Civil War, compounding the struggle for survival. Amidst this backdrop of turmoil and rebuilding, America emerged as a symbol of hope and prosperity, an idyllic destination promising a life free from hunger and deprivation.
Sousanna: The Lost Daughter delves into this historical context, narrating the poignant tale of a young girl named Sousanna, caught in the crosscurrents of hope and despair. The memoir unfolds with Sousanna’s father, driven by a blend of hope and desperation, making the heart-wrenching decision to send his youngest daughter to America. This decision, born out of a belief in temporary separation, spirals into years of longing and heartache for Sousanna and her family back in Greece. The narrative poignantly captures the family’s clinging to the hope of Sousanna’s well-being, juxtaposed with her struggle to maintain her identity in a foreign land brimming with abundance.
Set between the 1950s and 1970s, the novel offers a compelling exploration of the complexities surrounding international adoptions, particularly from economically challenged countries. It insightfully presents the perspectives of the biological family, the adoptive family, and most crucially, the child at the heart of these life-altering decisions. The book sheds light on the controversial practices that led to the adoption of thousands of Greek children by American families, often under dubious circumstances.
Sousanna: The Lost Daughter, by Sousanna Stratmann, is a thought-provoking and relevant exploration of themes that resonate as much today as they did in the mid-20th century. The narrative is a testament to the enduring human spirit and the quest for identity in the face of overwhelming odds. This book is highly recommended for its insightful portrayal of a little-known chapter of history and its moving reflection on the human experience.
Pages: 272 | ASIN : B07JKBN66Y
Jeanne The Woman In Red
Jeanne The Woman in Red is a literary historical novel that follows the life of Jeanne Tunica Y Casas, a fiery, uncompromising political activist whose story unfolds across New Caledonia, the New Hebrides, France, and beyond. The book moves between her final years in a nursing home in the late 1960s and vivid recollections of her political battles, her marriage to Paco, and the people and places she loved. It’s a portrait of a woman who refuses to soften or apologize, even as age and loss begin to close in around her.
This book feels intimate. As if Jeanne were sitting across from me, telling stories that run on nerves and conviction rather than nostalgia. The writing has a rawness I didn’t expect. Scenes of the nursing home feel almost claustrophobic with their vinyl chairs, faint smells, and the slow drip of Jeanne’s frustration. Then the narrative swings wide open into her past, where she teaches children under mango trees, writes furious letters, argues politics with anyone brave enough, and paints scenes that reveal more about her spirit than any speech could. The author’s choice to weave Jeanne’s inner voice with historical detail gives the story both grit and tenderness. It is a quiet kind of political novel, but political all the same, carried by the force of one woman who refuses to be small.
What struck me most was how unapologetically the book stays with Jeanne’s contradictions. She is compassionate one moment and sharp enough to cut the next. She is grieving but stubborn. She is certain of her beliefs, sometimes to the point of alienating those who might have helped her. And yet the book never asks me to judge her. It just lets her be. Some passages read like memories folded in warm light, while others hit like sudden blows. The sensory details work best when they’re simple: a wooden floorboard Paco never fixed, a pot of chrysanthemums at a grave, the sound of children giggling through a vocabulary lesson. The author trusts these small images to carry weight, and they do.
This isn’t a sweeping epic or a fast-moving plot. It’s more like sitting with someone who has lived too intensely to fade gently. The genre sits somewhere between literary fiction and biographical historical fiction, and it will appeal most to readers who like character-driven stories, real history woven with imagination, and portraits of complicated women who challenge the world rather than charm it.
Pages: 213 | ASIN : B08CPNPNDV
The Ordinary Adventures of Somerset Soames von Hesse
The book traces the early life of Somerset Soames von Hesse, the youngest son in a missionary family that moves across continents. It follows the family from the United States to Egypt and Lebanon, then later to Colorado and beyond. The story blends personal memory with cultural snapshots. Each chapter unfolds against real historical moments, creating a timeline of growing up inside a strict religious framework while navigating friendships, dangers, family conflicts, school life, and a constant, restless search for belonging. It reads like a memoir wrapped inside a family saga, with Somerset watching the world while trying to figure out his place in it.
I found myself pulled in by the emotional honesty. The writing sometimes feels plainspoken, almost conversational, and that worked for me. It made the moments of fear, frustration, and longing hit harder. I felt a pang when little Wilfred nearly died after drinking kerosene, and the family’s panic filled the pages in a way that made me sit up straight. The author shows these moments without dressing them up. I liked that. At times, the prose wanders, but the wandering feels true to memory. I could almost hear someone telling me the story over a kitchen table. It made the world feel lived-in and messy and real.
Other times, I found myself laughing a little under my breath. Somerset’s charm, even as a tiny kid, is delightful. He’s wide-eyed, always scheming, always trying to impress girls, and it’s just so relatable. The book captures that childlike longing to be noticed, to matter, to be special. I felt protective of him. The chaotic moves, the strict expectations, and the way the adults often seem wrapped up in their own missions, while the kids try to make sense of everything around them. It stirred something in me. I kept thinking about how heavy the world can feel when you’re small and everyone else is busy doing “important things.”
By the end, I felt warm toward the story even when I was frustrated with some of the adults. I’d recommend this book to readers who enjoy memoir-style storytelling, especially people interested in missionary life, cross-cultural childhoods, or family histories full of both tenderness and hardship. It’s also a good pick for anyone who likes a slow, reflective read and doesn’t mind scenes that unfold more like memory than plot.
Pages: 462 | ASIN : B0FMSC22T8
A Journey of Discovery
On a Sundown Sea follows a woman with the gifts of being a medium and clairvoyant who meets the leader of the American Theosophical Society, who guides her on a spiritual path that could make her mystical dreams a reality. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
I grew up in Point Loma, near Madame Katherine Tingley’s Lomaland. Though she’s been gone nearly a century, stories of her remarkable life—and the extraordinary happenings on that hilltop—still echo throughout the region. I’ve long been fascinated by the mysteries surrounding her. Was she truly a medium and clairvoyant? How did she transform barren land into a flourishing Theosophical community with gardens, a school, and an arts colony? And did she really believe her husband had been reincarnated as a turtle?
Determined to uncover the truth, I spent five years researching and writing this biographical historical novel. While no full biography of Tingley exists, I immersed myself in her speeches, personal writings, and countless archival materials—newspaper articles, letters, photographs, court testimonies, ship logs, and passports. The Theosophists were prolific writers and publishers; Lomaland even had its own press that produced pamphlets and magazines. My greatest challenge was reconciling the many conflicting dates and facts I encountered.
To follow her journey, I traveled to her birthplace in Newburyport, Massachusetts, and to New York City, where her story first unfolds. And to better understand her esoteric world, I attended mediumship readings and worked with a shaman.
What are some things that you find interesting about the human condition that you think make for great fiction?
A novelist’s job is to place obstacles between the protagonist and their deepest desire—and Katherine’s childhood vision of building a white city had no shortage of them. Every compelling story thrives on conflict, and characters become truly memorable when they reveal their touchstones, quirks, humor, and emotions. I also believe love, in one form or another, should always be present—it adds depth, humanity, and hope to even the most challenging journeys.
What experience in your life has had the biggest impact on your writing?
After a twenty-year career as a public-school educator, I found myself drawn to writing. I began attending a weekly drop-in group, where the facilitator gave prompts and set a timer to get us started. Writing in community helped me keep my pen moving, even on days when I wanted to stop. Initially, I thought I’d write children’s books or a memoir about my time in the classroom—but that wasn’t what unfolded at all.
Instead, characters began appearing on the page seemingly out of nowhere, and I just kept following them. I’m an intuitive writer, composing all my first drafts by hand in a journal. When I started, I never imagined I would create the Anne McFarland Series, let alone On a Sundown Sea: A Novel of Madame Tingley and the Origins of Lomaland. It’s been a journey of discovery, both of the stories themselves and of who I am as a writer.
What is the next book that you are working on, and when can your fans expect it to be out?
I’d love to publish a collection of my nature poetry, as well as a personal development book inspired by my philosophy and blog, Crealivity. At the same time, I’m resisting the pull of a first chapter that has jumped onto the page for a fourth novel in the Anne McFarland Series. Over the past ten years, I’ve sent four novels and hundreds of poems out into the world, but right now my focus is on promoting On a Sundown Sea. I’ve many local events planned here in San Diego first, and then I’m taking the book on tour to other parts of the country.
Author Links: GoodReads | Instagram | Facebook | Website
In 1888, Katherine Tingley, a medium and clairvoyant, continues to have a childhood vision of a white city on a sundown sea. While serving the poor at her Do-Good Mission on Manhattan’s East Side, she encounters William Q. Judge, a mesmerist and leader of the American Theosophical Society. He recognizes her potential, convinces her to become his student, and guides her on a spiritual path that could make her mystical dream become a reality.
After Judge’s passing, Katherine assumes leadership of the Society and embarks on a world crusade to spread brotherhood, learn from ancient cultures, and search for a Himalayan Mahatma. In 1900, she moves the Theosophical headquarters to San Diego. Here, she sets out to establish Lomaland—a sacred space of learning, artistry, and divine harmony, built on a barren peninsula yet brimming with hidden potential. As people from around the world converge to share in her vision, they form a community united in purpose to spread enlightenment. However, betrayals, lies, and libels accumulate until a monumental court case ultimately decides her future and the fate of the white city on a sundown sea.
Secrets That Remain: The Emil Fricker Story
Secrets That Remain tells the haunting and personal story of a family bound by silence and shadow. It unearths the dark legacy of Emil Fricker, a respected Illinois farmer whose life spiraled into scandal and tragedy during the 1920s. Told through the eyes of his descendants, the book blends history, memoir, and fiction to explore the ripple effects of buried secrets across generations. At its core, though, it’s about the women who survived him, Rose, his steadfast wife, and her descendants, who spent decades piecing together what really happened when love, jealousy, and pride collided on the Fricker dairy farm.
The writing is vivid and tender, with a rhythm that feels both old-fashioned and relatable. The authors don’t just tell a crime story, they tell a story about endurance. Their style has an honesty that made me forget I was reading about people long gone. I found myself caught between empathy and disbelief, shaking my head at the choices Emil made and aching for Rose, who bore the cost of them. The mix of real newspaper clippings and narrative gave the book a gritty authenticity that made me want to keep turning pages late into the night.
Some chapters sank into so much detail that I wished for a pause to breathe between the grief and revelations. But that weight also mirrors the emotional load the family carried. It’s a book that doesn’t look away, and I respect that. The storytelling feels like a conversation between the living and the dead, with the authors trying to make peace with ghosts. I admired their courage in confronting painful truths that their family once hid.
When I finished, I sat for a long time just thinking. I’d recommend Secrets That Remain to anyone who loves historical family sagas, true crime with a human heart, or generational stories about forgiveness and resilience. It’s especially for readers who understand that the past never really stays buried.
Pages: 388 | ASIN : B0FGT35QGM
Thru The Eyes of a Warrior
This book is both memoir and meditation. Merrill A. Vaughan blends poetry, storytelling, and raw personal truth to explore what it means to serve, survive, and remember. Through the fictional voice of Jack Delaney, a veteran haunted by his experiences in Vietnam, Vaughan builds a bridge between past and present, between the young soldier who went to war and the older man learning to heal. The story moves between letters, memories, and poems that capture the brutal honesty of combat and the quiet ache of coming home. It’s not a linear tale but rather a mosaic of moments, stitched together by grief, guilt, and grace.
The poems have grit and rhythm, the kind that comes from someone who has lived the words he writes. I could feel the heaviness in Jack’s silence and the relief when he finally found his voice again. Some passages felt personal, like peeking into someone’s private confession, yet that’s what made them so powerful. Vaughan doesn’t hide behind pretty phrasing or elaborate structure. He just tells it straight. The scenes in the jungle, the letters to Ella, the haunting of lost friends, they all stay with you long after you close the book.
What I loved most was the sense of hope quietly pulsing beneath the pain. The character of Claire, the nurse who teaches Jack to write, and Ella, the granddaughter who asks to hear the truth, turn this story into a full circle. It’s not only about what war takes but what art gives back. The poems woven throughout, about veterans, remembrance, and America itself, feel like collective prayers for understanding. The mix of fiction and poetry works surprisingly well. At times, it feels like a diary cracked open. I found myself pausing often, just sitting with the weight of the words.
I’d recommend Thru the Eyes of a Warrior to anyone who wants to understand the emotional landscape of a veteran’s life, beyond statistics and slogans. This book would especially resonate with veterans, their families, and anyone who believes that storytelling can heal what silence can’t. Vaughan has written something painful, tender, and brave.
Pages: 110 | ASIN : B0FPT9WGZP
Commi Kitchen
Commi Kitchen drops you into the chaotic, greasy, hilarious, and sometimes heartbreaking world of underground chefs hustling through shared commissary kitchens. The story follows Brand, a wide-eyed chef trying to get his catering business off the ground while working in a rundown kitchen filled with misfits, burnouts, and culinary dreamers. What starts as a slice-of-life about kitchen culture quickly turns into something deeper, a gritty, honest look at ambition, failure, and the strange family you find in unlikely places.
The opening chapter immediately drew me in, especially when Brand nervously declares, “My name is Brand, and I like to eat,” only to be roasted by high school kids. Ten pages later, he’s sweating in a chaotic commissary, dodging insults and grease splatter. Crocker’s writing feels raw and unfiltered, like the kitchen itself, grimy, hot, alive. The dialogue pops with realism; Abe, with his cigarette and cane, might be one of the most vividly drawn “managers” I’ve ever read. You can smell the burnt toast and old socks in every scene. The book has a way of making even the worst kitchen nightmare feel strangely poetic.
But what really got me was the way Crocker captures the rhythm of a cook’s life, the stress, the exhaustion, the twisted sense of pride. When Brand and his buddy Jim pull off their first catering event, it’s chaos and comedy rolled into one: sauce buckets spilling, a fuming bride, a furious wife, and then pure joy when the guests rave about the food. That moment when the salsa explodes across the floor had me laughing out loud and wincing at the same time. Crocker nails that emotional whiplash between triumph and disaster that anyone in the service industry knows too well. It’s not glamorous, but it’s real.
By the second half, the story shifts from kitchen antics to something darker and more introspective. Brand’s encounters with bizarre characters, like Oliver and Bob, the creepy old caterers who might be accidentally poisoning funeral guests, add this weird, almost dystopian layer to the story. The “Commi” itself starts to feel alive, like a haunted maze of ambition and decay. There’s this eerie moment when Brand finds Abe literally rehydrating a brick of weed over a stock pot, and I thought, “Okay, this kitchen’s officially gone to hell.” Yet even then, Brand keeps showing up, keeps cooking, keeps trying. It’s absurdly human.
What surprised me most was how emotional the book became without ever turning sentimental. Beneath all the grime and absurdity, there’s this quiet current of hope. Brand isn’t chasing fame, he’s chasing purpose. He wants to feed people, to prove that what he does matters, even when no one else seems to care. Crocker’s writing style mirrors that grind; it’s quick, punchy, and never overpolished. Sometimes the sentences hit like kitchen clangs; other times, they slow down just long enough for you to feel the heat, the loneliness, the small victories that make it all worth it.
Commi Kitchen is a love letter to the misfits who make magic in broken spaces, the cooks who burn themselves out chasing perfection on a dented prep table. I’d recommend it to anyone who’s ever worked in a kitchen, loved a dreamer, or just enjoys stories that don’t clean up the mess before serving it. This book isn’t fancy cuisine, it’s a wild, honest plate of real life, served hot and a little smoky around the edges. And I couldn’t get enough.
Pages: 445 | ASIN : B0FNQ6QT6P
LITERARY TITAN 