DEBORAH PRUM

PODCAST-SASS-WALKING IN THE FACE OF TOMFOOLERY Photo courtesy of Benjamin Wedemeyer. 0:00 / 0:00 Sass-Walking in the Face of Tomfoolery Have you ever watched the Steve Martin movie, Roxanne? There’s a scene where Martin’s character, a fire chief, ambles by an old-fashioned metal box dispenser of newspapers. He deposits a coin, pulls out a paper, reads the headlines, then screams. He inserts another coin, tosses the same paper back into the box then skips off.             Except for the skipping off part, this is how I feel about today’s headlines. My neighbors have seen me walk down our driveway, pick up the New York Times, read the front page, shout naughty words, and slam the mailbox with the folded paper. The world is in flames, and I care deeply about the many people who are affected by the conflagration. Some days it’s hard enough to function, let alone keep writing, but I persevere. Call me delusional but I believe I’m called to write. Quitting is not an option for me. My intention is to bring beauty and laughter into the world. Whether I succeed in that venture is another matter, but down in my bones, I’m convinced I’m called to try.             Here’s what is helping me stay in the game:             When gloomy headlines dampen inspiration, rain or shine, I take a vigorous walk. While doing so, I keep my mind word-free from external sources.  I don’t listen to music with lyrics. I don’t listen to podcasts. And I most certainly do not listen to news or commentary. As I walk, I hold out an open bucket to catch any words the universe may fling down. I record thoughts on my phone or scribble them in a small notebook. I don’t self-censor. Anything goes. On one walk, I heard the words “butt up.”  By the time I arrived home, those two words had given rise to an entire short story called Gravity which appeared in Across the Margin a few months later.             If the morning news impairs my ability to tackle a work that is already in progress, I’ll play music while I swim laps or use an elliptical trainer. I’m sure a treadmill would work too, but I don’t like the connotation of being on a treadmill. I choose pieces that lean me away from angst and toward hope, like Amos Lee’s Worry No More, or Joy Oladokun’s Look Up. I’m about 140 pages into writing a novel. Mood-boosting songs have facilitated my receiving ideas for whole chapters for the novel. The downside?  The stacks of yellow-lined writing pads I’ve drenched by stepping out of the pool to jot ideas.             On the mornings when I feel utterly depleted, I drag myself to Zumba class at the local gym. Our Zumba instructor often blasts Rhythm and Blues tunes. These songs include long riffs where sass-walking is not only encouraged but celebrated. After class one day, a fellow student told me that I was the best sass-walker in the class. Her unsolicited praise have kept my spirits high for weeks. In fact, now as I write these words, I feel a surge of pride. For me, sass-walking with a bunch of other sass-walkers is empowering. Dancing in my Zumba class gives me the bad-ass energy I need to face both a world on fire and the blinking cursor on my laptop’s blank screen.             Doubters may say my techniques constitute rearranging deck chairs on a sinking Titanic. I would counter that cliché with my own: Don’t knock it until you try it.             Redemption is derived from the Latin word redemptio, which means taking back. These suggestions are proactive ways to redeem the godawful situation in which we find ourselves, to change and redirect our emotions, which in turn enables us to keep writing and keep fighting.  We can use this redeemed energy to create characters, scenes, dialogue, storylines, and narrative tension in our fiction writing. (In Darkness, As in Light).  Or we can use non-fiction to express ideas about how to resist the darkness in persuasive essays (Deconstructing Unicorns and Mermaids), (Maison Magique).             My hope for all of us, writers or not, is that we can be brave, take back the dark days and muster the energy to sass-walk ourselves through these troubled times. This essay has just appeared in Medium. (Photo courtesy of Benjamin Wedemeyer.) ### (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-VERA, OR FAITH-BOOK REVIEW PODCAST:  VERA, OR FAITH—BOOK REVIEW             Gary Shteyngart’s book, Vera, or Faith, is a masterpiece. Last Friday night, I chose finishing the book rather than going to a dance with friends. If you know me at all, this is high praise.             The slender 241-page novel is about a precocious ten-year-old named Vera, the daughter of Igor, a man who came from Russia as a child, and a Korean woman, who seems to have abandoned Vera and might be dying of cancer. Vera’s stepmother, Anne Bradford, is the primary person raising Vera and Dylan, Vera’s younger stepbrother. Dylan, a blond, curly-haired bundle of energy is the golden child, a boy whose antics steal the show at gatherings of family and friends.             Vera spends her young life trying to impress her father, a once famous man who has transitioned from fame to infamy in the public eye. He’d hoped to make great gobs of money by selling his magazine to a Rhodesian businessman who, like the rest of polite society, is currently ghosting Igor. Vera’s father now spends much of his time in his underwear, on the couch, often talking to himself. Set in the dystopian near future, this novel is filled with hilarious and trenchant social and political commentary. Topics include but are not limited to the pressure parents put on ten-year-olds to get into the “right” college—Igor’s vision for Vera is Swarthmore. The contrast between Anne’s blue-blooded New England mother and Igor’s Russian Jewish immigrant parents who have developed a curious way of adapting to American life—a way reminiscent of my own Italian immigrant grandparents. And, a topic that provides a narrative scaffolding for the book, the attempt of the rightwing autocratic state to push through an amendment that would dilute voting power for anyone not directly related to pre-revolutionary war white settlers. Remind you of anything? The beating heart of the novel is Vera, a brilliant, but socially wobbly child with a complicated Jewish Russian/Korean heritage. Vera’s living space is a metaphor for how she feels about her place in the family. It is structured such that her parents and Dylan have bedrooms in one wing which is separated from Vera’s bedroom by a kitchen and living room. Vera refers to the couch as the Maginot Line. She feels like a castoff, abandoned, marooned, and desperately lonely. Some positives exist in Vera’s grim life. One is Kaspie, an AI chess game, made in Korea. This robot answers random questions, and at times, seems to be sentient. For example, Kaspie is happy to find out that Vera shares its connection to Korea. Another bright spot is Vera’s budding friendship with Yumi, a fellow student at the liberal magnet school Vera attends. But Vera’s true emotional lifeline is her Aunt Cecile, who loves Vera unconditionally and affirms her at every opportunity. Vera refers to her aunt as her nightlight, her human weighted blanket. Both Cecile and Anne help Vera navigate school and basic daily life. Shteyngart tells his story via Vera’s close point of view. The voice he creates for her is entrancing, so engaging that I didn’t need much additional tension in the narrative to keep me reading. Vera’s observations are fresh, funny, and insightful. I love the way Shteyngart has Vera quote Cecile and Anne’s advice as she manages her days, which, in its own way, provides a sharp critique of the social mores the child is trying to decipher. At first, I didn’t quite buy the way the novel wraps up. But I reminded myself that this story is set in the future, so perhaps this plot point would be a possibility. Regardless, I found the ending satisfying, even comforting in its own way. Vera is a fun, funny book—an intelligently written escape from reality. I read a borrowed copy. I plan to buy my own. This novel is a keeper. ### THE GOD OF THE WOODS EUPHORIA FOSTER 0:00 / 0:00 Vera Book Review (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-DARK MATTER TV SERIES I attended seventh grade at Nathan Hale, a junior high school in a small industrial city. Much of the “educational” energy expended in the school involved teachers breaking up fights. Most of my personal energy was expended by running home from school every day to avoid getting beaten up. I wasn’t particularly unpopular, just slow, small, and available.             In seventh grade, a middled-aged, frail science teacher named Mr. Jaffee taught me general science. I loved the man and would linger after class to ask him one question after another. At twelve, the concept of possibilities fascinated me. Unfortunately, I conflated possibilities with the idea of probabilities. For my science project, I wrote my own interpretation of Blaise Pascal ideas about probability. Let’s just say I did not come close to nailing the topic, but Mr. Jaffee gave me an A for effort.             My slightly whack-a-doodle report led to an after-school discussion during which Mr. Jaffee covered the blackboard with words and diagrams that introduced me to the concepts of the uncertainty principle, superposition and quantum tunneling, although he did not name them as such. I’ve never fully understood, nor have I ever forgotten what he told me.             Years later, I realized two things about Mr. Jaffee, that he was brilliant and must have read Schrodinger, Dirac and Heisenberg. Also, it dawned on me that he was dying of cancer the entire year he spent indulging all my questions. He passed away at the end of the term.             His influence led me to a lifetime interest in physics, not Newtonian classical physics, but quantum physics. My minimal math skills enable me to comprehend 1% of quantum math and my ability to decipher physics writing enables me to understand about 30% of  quantum theory, but the passion is there. Just ask my husband. He’s banned me from keeping Brian Greene’s Fabric of the Universe on our nightstand because of the number of times I’ve awakened him to tell him a mind-blowing physics fact. It’s gotten so bad that he won’t even engage in daytime conversations that include the words multiverse or entanglement.             Several people had to recommend the TV series Dark Matter before I relented. I dislike sci-fi movies that mangle the basic tenets of quantum theory. Given my 30% mastery of the topic, my opinion is that this series gets the science right, or close to right. The premise is not completely implausible. All any inventor would have to do is figure out how to make macro entities (people) behave like micro entities (for example photons) in a quantum field.             During the two weeks my husband was out of the country, I binge-watched the show. In episode one we meet Jason Desson (played by Joel Edgerton). He’s a physics professor who spends his life trying to get his students to look up from their phones. What makes his life worth living is his wife Daniela (played by Jennifer Connelly), to whom he’s devoted, and his son Charlie (Oakes Fegley), whom he adores. One evening, Jason, who I will call Jason 1, is kidnapped, drugged, and via a box, transported to another “universe” where he replaces Jason 2, an unmarried, highly successful, selfishly driven physicist who lives with his psychiatrist girlfriend, Amanda Lucas (Alice Braga).             I can’t tell you more without spoiling the plot. In fact, I’ve probably already told you too much. The story is a carefully constructed and makes sense within the world the writer has created which I appreciate. Actors play multiple nuanced versions of their characters, and they do a good job of it. The pacing is pretty good, although there is a grim and repetitive stretch midway when I almost gave up watching.             I became attached to the character, Amanda, the kind psychiatrist who accompanies Jason 1 in his quest to get back to his wife and son. I felt so worried about what might become of her that I could barely keep watching the show. But I stuck with it.             Pro tip: if you decide to watch the series, you don’t have to understand quantum physics to follow the plot, but you do have to keep track of multiple versions of the characters. For the iterations of Jason, watch for the wedding ring, dark cap, and varying facial scratches. For Daniela and Charlie, watch for hairstyles and clothing.             This movie is about regret, roads not taken, how specific choices lead to specific outcomes, and how the selfish drive of one person can ruin many lives. But it is also about generosity, loyalty, fidelity, gratitude,  selflessness, and taking joy in the moment. The series wrapped up plot points in a satisfying way and left plenty of room for season two, which is already available. Should you watch it? I say go for it. ### Interested in other quirky movies? Check out: NINE DAYS DADDIO GHOSTLIGHT   0:00 / 0:00 Dark Matter (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-THE BRAND NEW TESTAMENT-A MOVIE REVIEW Add Text Here…. 0:00 / 0:00 The Brand New Testament The Belgian film, The Brand New Testament, puts the “Q” in quirky. I love dark humor and unconventional films, but my husband, Bruce, does not. However, by the movie’s end, we agreed that this movie was a wild ride that we both enjoyed. (A miracle.)             Here’s the set-up: God is a mean-spirited, grungy, bathrobe-wearing old guy who sits at a computer in bleak apartment in Brussels, wreaking havoc on mankind. His actions range from petty annoyances, like making sure toast always falls on the jelly side, to devasting events (think heart failure, assassinations, weather disasters.)             This grumpy God shares his non-descript apartment with his timid wife, his son, JC, a sometimes-animated statue who sits on a shelf, and his feisty ten-year-old daughter, Ea, who is the hero of this tale.             Ea routinely tangles with her cruel father. One day she sneaks into the computer room and discovers how he intentionally causes great suffering for all of humanity. When she confronts him about his actions, he goes after her with a belt. Ea escapes and asks her brother, JC, for advice. He tells her to find six additional apostles and to write a brand new testament. Ea randomly chooses the names of the six apostles from her father’s data base. Then, she sends a text to the cellphones of all the people on earth that includes a countdown to each person’s specific time of death. After that, Ea finds a brilliantly inventive way to escape from the apartment. Then she roams the streets of Brussels looking for the specific apostles, all of whom seem like people who have just wandered out of a Fellini film. I’m not going to tell you any more of the plot except that it’s bizarre and in its own circuitous way, it works.             The nuanced acting in this film is a tribute to Jaco Van Dormael’s directing skills. The actors say and do the weirdest things without blinking an eye. Bruce and I especially loved Ea, the ten-year-old child who made the world a better place by marching around Brussels giving people truly insane advice. The only actor we recognized was Catherine Deneuve, playing the fifth apostle. Her choice of a romantic partner will astonish you.             The humor is both understated and absurd, my favorite kind. The film was a Golden Globe nominee and was shortlisted in the Best Foreign Film category at the 88th Academy Awards.             Bruce and I liked The Brand New Testament. If you watch it, you may not feel the same way. This movie is not for everyone. My mother would have hated it. You may think the movie is heretical and offensive. I would disagree. However, I don’t want to say why, because saying so would reveal too much of the plot. If you decide to watch the movie and want to discuss it, shoot me a message. That’s all for now. ### Interested in other quirky movies? Check out: NINE DAYS DADDIO GHOSTLIGHT         (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-STERLING POINT-TV SERIES If you watch a trailer for the eight-episode series, Sterling Park, you might be tempted to dismiss it as a Disney-like teen show, but you would be wrong. Yes, there are a few “Disney” moments but on the whole director, Megan Park, delivers a tale well told, addressing important issues with nuance and wisdom. Fraternal twins Annie (Ella Rubin) and Connor (Keen Ruffalo—yes, son of Mark Ruffalo) inherit an island in Canada from a maternal grandfather they’ve never met. They’ve been raised in New York City by Steven, their adoptive father, played by Jay Duplass, Their mother died when they were very young. Seventeen-year-old Annie, (who looks like a cross between Ann Hathaway and Julia Roberts) discovers a letter from her grandfather that gives her ambiguous instructions. Without telling her father, Annie flies to Cananda then hires a private plane to get to the multimillion dollar island she’s inherited. The pilot of the small plane is a teenager named Ellis (Jacob Whiteduck). The instant sizzle to their interactions does gives off a Disney vibe, but no worries, their relationship proceeds in a way that made me feel there is hope for the next generation. This is not to say that the Ellis-Annie relationship is lacking in conflict and uncertainty. The presence of Rory (Daniel Quinn-Toye) provides plenty of drama. He is an ultra-wealthy former classmate of Annie’s from NYC who falls for her immediately when he sees her on the island. He’s not your typical chucklehead rich boy; he’s kind, generous, tender, and asks all the right questions. So, the love triangle is nuanced. The Ellis and Rory characters are not stereotypes. The screen writers go to great pains to develop robust back stories for both guys. Connor, Annie’s twin brother, provides comedic relief throughout the series. Pay special attention to the scene where Connor and Rory help each other stretch their hamstrings after they play some sort of racket sport. It had me laughing out loud. Some of the best acting is done by Ramona and Oona. Ramona’s mother is dead. She has been raised by her grandfather, a grandfather she just happens to share with Annie and Connor, siblings she does not know exist. Oona’s mother seems to have abandoned her and her twelve-year-old sister, Maple, whom Oona is raising. Oona and Ramona clearly are in love. At the same time, the two young women clearly have absent mother issues, which they both acknowledge. Their relationship is passionate, tumultuous, and angst filled. The behavior of these teens does not always reflect best judgment. That being said, all of seven of the main characters, ranging from twelve to eighteen, are pretty darn smart, with the twelve-year-old, Maple, being the wisest of them all. At least five of them read fancy-schmancy books, one is a concert pianist, and Connor, who portrays himself as a party boy is a closet genius. Well, maybe not genius, but very bright. The three adults in the film fall into the murky territory of not really bad guys, but also not parents their collective offspring would like to emulate. Two of the fathers regret the questionable choices they made in the past, and one woman (Rory’s mother) is a person who regrettably doesn’t not regret any of her actions. The setting, the Muskoka Lakes region of Canada is gorgeous. If I had access to a private jet, I’d zip off there in a heartbeat. The soundtrack blew me away. When I heard a clip from Joan Osborne’s song, What if God is One of Us, I knew I was in for a treat. The songs are a mix of mainstream, indie, and folk music, with performers like Teddy Swims, the Head and the Heart, and Liza Minnelli. The cinematography and the soundtrack alone make the series worth watching. Are there plot points that defy credulity? Yes, of course, I could name several but nothing egregious. There was a twist I did not anticipate that possibly wasn’t quite believable, but I liked it anyway. The end was satisfying in that wrapped up most of the major plot points and included two cliff-hangers that left room for an intriguing second season. Sterling Point is an entertaining and thought-provoking series. I recommend it so long as you are not squeamish about occasional scenes of teens making questionable choices. ### Interested in other TV series? Please check out my reviews of: FIRE BUG TASK WIDOW’S BAY 0:00 / 0:00 Sterling Point (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-EUPHORIA, MONTANA, & THE PROFESSOR & THE HOUSEKEEPER Are you looking for a book to read? Check out my mini reviews.             Euphoria by Lily King:             This work of historical fiction is loosely based on the life of anthropologist, Margaret Mead. The novel is set in 1930’s New Guinea, when anthropology was a nascent and not necessarily respected field of study. The narrative tension of the novel is created by both a love triangle and also the differing views the three anthropologists hold about the ways to pursue their research. King skillfully presents this tale from two distinct points of view. We mainly hear from Andrew Bankson, a depressed and on-and-off suicidal British anthropologist who is in love with Nell Stone. She is an American anthropologist who is married to Fen, an Australian anthropologist. Excerpts from Nell’s diary provide a second point of view. One takeaway for me is how often we have no idea what is going on in another person’s mind and how guessing wrong can result in tragedy. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Montana 1948 by Larry Watson:             This slim volume of 169 pages is a coming-of-age story, told by twelve-year-old David Hayden whose father is the sheriff of a small town, a job he took on unwillingly. David’s uncle is the town physician and local war hero, who, on the surface, is a charming fellow. His grandparents are wealthy folks who control the town and its members. This includes families that have settled the area and Native Americans, the people they’ve displaced and mistreated. This spare story is elegantly told, with moving observations of disturbing events that forever shift David’s world view. The novel addresses themes of family loyalty, the harsh treatment of Native Americans, justice deferred, and the cost of living your life with integrity. The pacing is great and the prose is engaging. I read the book almost in one sitting. I wish Watson had spent more time talking about the interior life of the Native Americans who suffered greatly.  And, at the end, I wanted to see all the “bad guys” and the institutional racism dealt with in a more vigorous manner. However, the ending I yearned for would not have been realistic for the times. Regardless, I enjoyed this book and highly recommend it. The Housekeeper by Yoko Ogawa             I don’t care about baseball, and I’ve feared math since early childhood. Numbers hurt my brain. However, Yoko Ogawa’s novel gave me a deeper appreciation of both math and baseball. Although, I can’t see myself ever watching a full game.             The story is about a brilliant, but ornery mathematician who suffered a traumatic brain injury which left him with an eighty-minute short term memory.  A housekeeper and her son become an integral part of his life. The professor is forced to live  entirely in the present. He doesn’t remember the housekeeper and her son from visit to visit. However, the professor communicates his passion for math to the woman and her boy. Ultimately, they both cine to share the professor’s passion.             The story is heartwarming in a non-sentimenal way. And, miracle of miracles, I happily learned  about the beauty of math and the intricacies of baseball. The relationship between the three characters felt touching and realistic. I highly recommend the book. If you hate math, let me know if this novel changes your mind. ### Interested in more reviews? Please check out: THE GOD OF THE WOODS FOSTER 0:00 / 0:00 THREE BOOK REVIEWS (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-WIDOW’S BAY-TV SERIES I did not have helicopter parents. My first exposure to horror films was watching The Haunting at age ten with my father. Dear Dad, always the jokester, jump scared me at a tense moment of the movie, an event that shaved a decade off my life. Years later, in college, I stupidly re-watched the film with a bad boyfriend, who jump scared me at exactly the same moment. Based on Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, this movie is the reason I can never fall asleep while staying in an Airbnb in an old Victorian mansion.             My second exposure to the horror genre was watching The Sixth Sense which I thought was going to be a simple psychological drama. I spent the movie with my hands covering eyes and my thumbs stuck in my ears. After watching this film, I’ve never viewed kitchen cabinets in the same way.             Created by Katie Dippold for Apple TV, Widow’s Bay is billed as a comedy horror television series. After reading many intriguing comments about it, I broke my “no horror movies” rule. I binge-watched the series on my iPhone on a daunting car trip from Virginia to Long Island. We drove up in a snarl of cars that were headed to World Cup events, a golf tournament, and the Knicks parade. The bumper-to-bumper traffic, coupled with unhinged New Yorkers behind the wheel, made the trip terrifying.             So, to distract me from the terror, I decided to watch Widow’s Bay on my iPhone. Brilliant logic, I know. Here’s the plot: Tom Loftis, played by Matthew Rhys, is mayor of Widow’s Bay, an island that townies believe to be cursed. Tom is a widower with one son, Evan, a teen who hates the place and takes every opportunity to engage in shenanigans. A mainlander himself, Tom’s main goal is to convince everyone that Widow’s Bay is safe and is a great tourist destination. The old-timer residents know better than to believe Tom and impede him at every turn. The ensemble cast of townspeople is a pitch perfect portrayal of quirky odd ducks, some of whom are innocuous, and some who are not. They are given the very best comedic lines and corporately are the highlight of the movie.             Compared to the sheer terror of our drive to Long Island, I found this series more funny than frightening. The movie is filled with the usual tropes:  a sea hag, boogeyman, spooky fog, black skies, howling wind, dungeon, jump scares galore, and your two, not one, off-kilter people periodically screaming about impending doom. I loved the campy humor and the straight-faced delivery of some of the ridiculous things ever said. The film never takes itself too seriously. For example, during an intense scene when Tom is alone in a dark room interrogating a menacing specter, the mayor’s secretary pops in, saying, “Oops, sorry. I forgot my purse.”             Good pacing and the ever-building narrative tension kept me engaged. The storyline is so over-the-top ridiculous and implausible that I never felt scared, repulsed maybe, but not scared. If I’d watched this on a big screen or even a slightly bigger screen, the experience would have been more immersive and possibly more frightening. British TV series tend to wrap up each season with a definitive ending. Not so with Americans. Widow’s Bay leaves the viewer with unresolved plot points which I found mildly annoying.  Regardless, I enjoyed this character-driven dark comedy and recommend it. ### Interested in other TV reviews? Check out: TASK SMOKE THE PERFECT COUPLE   0:00 / 0:00 Widow's Bay (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-WELCOME-A BOOK REVIEW Welcome—Patterns of the Moral Life is an elegant, succinct, and persuasive book on the importance of welcoming others. This is both a well-written argument for the necessity of welcoming others and a practical guide to extending welcome in ways that are ethical and nurturing.             The book is co-authored by Lois Shepherd JD, a professor of biomedical ethics and law, and by Margaret Mohrmann, MD, PhD, a professor emerita of pediatrics, medical education, and religious studies. Given their credentials, you might be tempted to assume that this would be a dense, academic tome. Not so.             The prose is crisp and the concepts are described in a straightforward manner. The authors use vignettes to demonstrate their points, which makes the material accessible and memorable. The style is conversational and engaging. The tone mirrors the subject matter in that it’s warm and welcoming.             Chapter headings provide a clear map to the content. Here are examples of topics: Responding Rather Than Reacting, Stay Awhile, See a Human Being, Let People Tell You Who They Are, Check Your Agenda. This structure provides an easy way for the reader to approach the material and to head to chapters that might hold special interest. The practical part of this book avoids giving superficial solutions. Instead, the authors make suggestions for change that consider myriad aspects of a situation. My husband and I have tried to be intentional about how we welcome people into our lives. I am grateful at this book challenged me to think about and change some of my beliefs and behaviors. I highly recommend Welcome. ### Interested in other book reviews? Please check out: The God of the Woods Time of the Child Without You Here Allegiance 0:00 / 0:00 Welcome-Book Review (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-NICK & MIKE, NICK & ALICE MOVIE REVIEW I loved James Marsden’s performance in the TV series Dead to Me. He did an excellent job playing identical twins who had completely different personalities. The series was dark and wickedly funny. It’s worth checking out, if you don’t mind quirky and sometimes shocking material. I also enjoyed Vince Vaughn’s performance in Bad Monkey, a TV series based on Carl Hiassen’s novel. The humor wasn’t quite as sharp as I’d have liked, but I found it entertaining. When I noticed Marsden and Vaughn were starring together in the new movie Mike & Nick, Nick & Alice, I decided to watch it. Bruce happened to be knee-deep in March Madness so I watched it alone. The movie starts out with a bang, figuratively and literally. Ben Schwartz, playing a science nerd named Symon, is in his gadget-filled lab dancing and singing to Billy Joel’s song, Why Should I Worry? He’s celebrating having put the final touches on a time machine. Turns out, Symon has plenty of reasons to worry, but so as not to spoil the plot, let’s just leave it at that. Symon’s singing is awful, but his performance is spectacular and he draws me right in. I wish we’d seen more of him in the movie. The next scene takes place in a cocktail lounge full of gangsters and other shady characters.  They’re at a Welcome Home from Prison party for young Jimmy Boy, the boss’s son. After warmly greeting his scary guests, Sosa the mob boss, announces he will find and kill the rat who caused his dear son’s incarceration. Nick (Vaughn) and Quick Draw Mike (Marsden) are at the party. Nick works for Sosa. Quick Draw Mike works for Nick. Mike is having an affair with Nick’s wife, Alice. Hence, the reason for the long and somewhat clunky, movie title: Nick & Mike, Nick & Alice. The first half of the movie is great, quirky humor, inside jokes, and interesting time travel conundrums. This movie is dripping in satire; it is a gangster movie making fun of gangster movies. The jokes are nuanced. For example, when a bunch of nefarious bad guys show up at Nick’s house, in a non-ironical way, he offers them Capri Suns to drink. Now I am realizing that my description of this scene does not seem all that funny. I guess you’d have to be there. I had to stop watching the movie about two-thirds of the way through. I liked the first part so much that I persuaded Bruce to join me, which he did not want to do. To be fair, who likes to start watching a move in the middle? But I wore him down and he agreed. Unfortunately, the last third of the movie lost its momentum. It felt as if someone else had written it. The screenwriter included a couple surprises, but mostly we watched many slow-motion fights during which combatants smashed couches, shelves, tables, glass objects, and each other’s heads. You’d think the altercations might have increased the narrative tension, but no. Even though, the movie fell off the tracks for the last half hour or so, I enjoyed the heartwarming ending. Should you watch it? If you are in the mood for an arthouse film, this is not it. However, James Marsden and Vince Vaughn give high energy performances, and the gangster satire is funny. If you take snack breaks during the fight scenes, this movie could be fun to watch. ### Interested in other movie reviews? Check out: Hamnet’s Jessie Buckley in: Wicked Little Letters. Or, Olivia Coleman in: Joyride. Or, James Marsden in: Dead to Me. 0:00 / 0:00 Mike & Nick Nick & Mike (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST

PODCAST-DECONSTRUCTING UNICORNS & MERMAIDS Photo Courtesy of Alexander Grey 0:00 / 0:00 Deconstructing Unicorns & Mermaids Streetlight Magazine just published this essay. You can read it HERE. Longer version below: My four-year-old granddaughter, Zoe, and her seven-year-old brother, Henry, (names changed) live out-of-state. We often meet via Zoom. We share a screen and explore their burning questions by searching YouTube videos.             Henry is interested in science, sort of. For a while, he wanted to watch presentations about black holes, natural disasters, and the multiverse. Now he’s moved on to the human body. He has questions like, what happens if you eat a worm? Or the latest, what happens if you never cut your fingernails? Diana Armstrong holds the record for the longest fingernails, 21 feet per hand. She can’t pick up items from the floor or open her refrigerator. Now Henry is convinced that trimming his nails is in his best interest.             Last Saturday morning, Zoe wanted to know:  Do unicorns exist? Are mermaids real?             I believed the answers we’d find might shift her taste in clothing, movies, music, and even inform the choice of stuffed animal she snuggles with at night. We discovered that unicorn sightings might have been skinny rhinoceros or possibly rare Italian one-horned deer. We also learned that mermaids likely were manatees basking on boulders, or the wishful thinking of sailors who had been at sea too long.             This news didn’t crush the child. A week later, when I asked Zoe what she wanted to be when older, she said, “A unicorn.” When I raised my eyebrows, she responded, “Okay, maybe a mermaid princess.”             I felt surprised that Zoe continued to believe in the existence of unicorns and mermaids despite watching videos that made a strong case that neither creature exists. However, she not only still believed unicorns and mermaids were real, but Zoe also thought they were viable career choices. This led me to google: Why do people persist in clinging to convictions that clearly are not true? Folks tend to believe both what they’ve been told and what they have experienced. In the face of indisputable facts, it’s difficult to let go of long held beliefs. All the adults in Zoe’s life supported her view that these magical creatures are real. All the books she’s read, movies she’s watched and songs she’s listened to confirm that these beings live rich and varied lives, lives filled with romance and adventure.             My not-so-scholarly internet search also revealed that emotionally charged lies can be more convincing than facts. They evoke strong feelings which impede critical thinking. Zoe possesses great affection for unicorns and mermaids. For now, she’s likely to ignore the obvious. Lastly, I read about motivated thinking which is when people forgo rational thinking and cling to an erroneous belief, if it benefits them in a tangible way.  Unlike unicorns and mermaids, Zoe has never questioned the existence of the Tooth Fairy. This pragmatic child probably wouldn’t want to endanger her primary source of income. Why mess with success?  I’ve been blind to my own false assumptions. Often, it takes a close friend or relative to point out what I’m missing. Years ago, I was convinced that I treated my two sons equally. However, a friend pointed out that whenever my three-year-old pitched a fit, I’d do anything to appease him. I appreciated her input, but believed she was wrong.             Later, at a family event, my father filmed me grabbing a tambourine out of my five-year-old’s hand and giving it to my screaming three-year-old who wanted it. A few weeks later, when we were watching the video, I realized my friend had given me accurate feedback. I’d made the false assumption that since I was trying hard to be a good parent, I’d never make the rooky mistake of favoring one boy over the other. Until I watched the video, I couldn’t see what was right before my eyes.             Zoe’s belief in the existence of mermaids and unicorns isn’t hurting anyone. I’m happy she still can picture a rosy future for herself as a mermaid princess.             However, the stakes of ignoring the truth are higher for us adults. The assumptions we make affect our perception of reality. False assumptions have consequences. When we adults get our facts wrong, people can suffer and die. Democracy can collapse.             One trait that Zoe and Henry share is their curiosity. Like many children, they ask questions and take nothing for granted. Being curious requires an admission that you don’t know everything and that you are willing to explore in all directions for an answer.             Einstein advised, “Never lose a holy curiosity.” Einstein meant one should approach the world in a spirit of humility and in an open-minded search for truth.             I want so badly to state that maintaining a childlike curiosity will result in world peace, but I know there’s no quick fix. However, Einstein was no slacker, so maybe we should follow his lead.  What if we approach our assumptions with a holy curiosity and thereby take an ever-so-tiny step in the right direction. (Names of children changed.) ### Read at STREETLIGHT.   (Photo by Jen Fariello)Deborah Prum’s fiction has appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Across the Margin, Streetlight and other outlets. Her essays air on NPR member stations and have appeared in The Washington Post, Ladies Home Journal and Southern Living, as well as many other places. Check out her WEBSITE. Check out her DEVELOPMENTAL EDITING SERVICES. Check out her PAINTINGS.  APPLE PODCAST SPOTIFY PODCAST