“How To Know A Person: The Art Of Seeing Others Deeply And Being Deeply Seen”

“In every crowd there are Diminishers and Illuminators,” writes New York Times columnist David Brooks. “Diminishers make people feel small and unseen…. Illuminators, on the other hand, have a persistent curiosity about other people. They have been trained or have trained themselves in the craft of understanding others…. They shine the brightness of their care on people and make them feel bigger, deeper, respected, lit up.”

The Illuminator makes healthy connections with others, bringing some measure of mending to a fractured society where partisan voices talk past each other and loneliness has become epidemic. Becoming an Illuminator, Brooks maintains, is not only a skill that can be learned but it is expressed in something as simple as having a conversation—and making eye contact.

“How To Know A Person: The Art Of Seeing Others Deeply And Being Deeply Seen” ($30 in hardcover from Random House; also for Amazon Kindle and as an author-read audiobook) is a real-world guide to developing the character of an Illuminator. 

Which, writes Brooks, “is not something you can do alone. Morality is a social practice. It is trying to be generous and considerate toward a specific other person, who is enmeshed in a specific context. A person of character … is trying to just be present and faithful to the person suffering from depression….”

The first part starts with “I See You.” The goal is to see the other as they are, not through a stereotype. “The Koreans call it nunchi, the ability to be sensitive to other people’s moods and thoughts.”

 “I See You In Your Struggles” deals with hard conversations, what empathy really means and how a person is shaped by their suffering. Finally, in “I See You With Your Strengths,” Brooks moves into the importance of hearing another’s life story. 

He is a compassionate and vulnerable guide.

Chico psychologist Len Matheson will be facilitating three one-hour Zoom discussions about the book, Wednesdays from 7:00-8:00 p.m. on May 1, 8, and 15. There’s no need to have read the book in advance. Registration is free and the community is invited; go to https://tinyurl.com/5f7byt89 for details.

“Fire & Silk: Poems & Artwork”

Chico author and artist Meghan Irene Turner, survivor of the Camp Fire, recipient of a Ph.D. from the Institute of Metaphysical Humanistic Science, and ardent observer of the natural world, finds in poetry “a way to communicate with the soul.”

That communication is highlighted by her drawings and paintings in “Fire & Silk: Poems & Artwork” ($19.99 in paperback from Chico-based Quoir, facebook.com/quoirpublishing, or from the author at poetmirene@gmail.com).

Turner notes in the Preface that the meaning intended by the author, either of poetry or the black-and-white illustrations, may be very different from what the reader discovers. So the book is presented “not so that any person can decipher the absolute meaning of each poem, but so that each can explore the many worlds that creativity establishes.”

The book is designed to be taken in slowly, each poem a contemplation that invites heightened awareness of everyday experience: “Wearing sandals and shorts/,” the poet writes, “in the abyss of the ordinary// I make my bed, then pour a cup of coffee.” 

Elsewhere, in “a crack in the divine,” the entire poem reads: “My head, a shell,/ filled with the yolk/ of yesterday// My bones, branches,/ a resilient nest/ for tomorrow// My spirit, albumen,/ awkward ethereal globule,/ of intuition.”

In “ptsd,” remembering the fire: “small globules of sweat form on my neck// I can feel the sensation of panic/ as the planes fly like eager hummingbirds over head … my hands come up to cover my head,/ and protect me not from the massive tanker filled with water,/ but from my mind and the memories encased there…” 

Yet when the awful vision ends, and the poet returns to the present: “Even if just momentarily. Even if just for a brief second./ I am reminded of liberation,/ the absolute freedom of witnessing beauty before that fiery autumn.”

One’s connection with nature is a humbling, sometimes heartbreaking reality: “I am no greater than the dust, and not less./ I am infinite with the ground.” In another poem: “I see eternity/ in a speck of dust.” Yet later, contemplating the stars: “The place from which we came/ The place to which we go// Dust and luminescence….”

“Harmony: Legend Of Forest Ranch”

Wilma Rae Forester, LA-born in 1933, came to Chico with her family in 1940. Later on, marriage and children brought a move to Forest Ranch in 1964. A dedicated artist as well as writer, she has a tale to tell of many years ago. 

Actually, it comes from an old man she and her children encountered one day while walking in Forest Ranch soon after establishing residence there. They passed an old tree with a sign that read “World’s Largest Cherry Tree.” 

“The roots of it twisted beneath a rectangular shaped cement watering trough,” she writes, “with the words ‘Diamond Match Co.,’ imprinted into the side.” Then they saw the man, in red suspenders and with a long white beard, and though the tree couldn’t talk, he certainly did.

It's all recounted in “Harmony: Legend Of Forest Ranch” ($7.76 in paperback from ReadersMagnet LLC; also for Amazon Kindle), with more than two dozen of Forester’s whimsical illustrations depicting a young gold miner named Harlan, a Native American woman named Melody, and a creature called a Harmony.

A Harmony, Forester writes, “is a tiny playful horse-like creature that looks like it’s made of glass. It has a white fuzzy mane and tail, two sparkling bright eyes and wings like a dragonfly. Since they are only about four inches tall, they may easily sit in the palm of your hand…. Listen, did you hear a soft haunting melody or is it just the water bubbling over the rocks?”

When Harlan and Melody, riding in what is now Bidwell Park, and admiring Big Chico Creek, fall in love, Melody’s brother puts a curse on Harlan, who promises to return to marry Melody but, mysteriously, stays away for years. 

“You see,” writes Forester, “Harmonies were originally created to send out feeling of happiness and good will to everyone … but it wasn’t working. Because of the terrible battles and bad feeling between the White man and the Indians, all Harmonies were ordered to leave the West. Only two were left and they were grieving and sad.”

Would Harlan ever return? Only the Harmonies Dusty and Silky can help and, fortunately, a happily-ever-after is not far behind.

“The Dutch Master: Big Joe Carson Series Book III”

My old pal, David Dirks, longtime Chicoan, now a Brentwood based novelist, is no stranger to the inner workings of the Department of Energy’s national laboratories. So the fictional Hans M. Mark National Laboratory, near Ft. Wayne, Indiana, hums with verisimilitude. It’s the Cold War 80s when a super-secret particle beam weapon being developed at the lab explodes, the victim of treason and espionage.

After lead scientist Horatio Glen Knightsen and his accomplice are apprehended, but later apparently disappear, Senior Engineer “Big Joe” Carson suspects something more is afoot, which is revealed in the third book of the Big Joe Carson series, “The Dutch Master” ($10.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle).

The first two books, “Particle Beam (For Such A Time),” written with Dennis E. Jones, and “Red Skies (Aftermath),” introduce a fellowship of close friends, including David Janzen, a key engineer on a new super-secret device, the Laser Optic Diamond Turning Machine (LODTM) for the Laser Defense Weapon program approved by Congress. 

Since the LODTM is not available at Costco, the lab has to build its own, at great cost. And now the Indiana lab is experiencing odd delays and Janzen and Carson wonder if Mildred Cornwall, administrative lead for the new program, and one among others of Dutch ancestry at the lab, might be involved with a rumored “Dutch master” of espionage.

There’s big trouble for Big Joe when Knightsen vanishes. “The FBI announced they were adding the charges of murder and conspiracy to commit murder to the … charges against Big Joe Carson, and Sunny and Bunny Valencia, the two Latino twin daughters of the infamous but dead cartel lord, Agusto Guitterez Valencia, and defrocked US Marshals. All three were already locked up on multiple serious charges, any one of which could land them behind bars for life….”

That’s on page 1 of the novel; later, an attorney, known for defending cartel members, springs the twins. His name is, ahem, Daniel Barnett, of the firm of Barnett, Bennett and Barns. I’m honored. I think.

It’s a great romp and a satisfying conclusion and, if it please the Court, you should read it. 

“Fully Alive: The Apocalyptic Humanism Of Karl Barth”

Chicoan and substitute teacher Max Feiler graduated from Duke Divinity School in 2019, where he struck up a friendship with one of his professors, Stanley Hauerwas, born in 1940. 

A theologian and author of dozens of books, Hauerwas’ vision of the Christian life is perhaps most accessible in “Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony,” co-authored with Will Willimon, a retired United Methodist bishop who, Feiler writes me, “told me recently that I reminded him of a ‘young Hauerwas’” in his constant awareness of human sinfulness and possession of a rather wicked sense of humor.

The abiding question for Hauerwas is the place of the Christian church in light of Easter’s resurrection reality, when the temptation is to succumb to narcissistic impulses or to take over the reins of secular power.

Now, in a series of lectures and occasional pieces entitled “Fully Alive: The Apocalyptic Humanism Of Karl Barth” ($29.50 in paperback from University of Virginia Press), Hauerwas reflects on key themes from a controversial career, influenced by many, but especially Swiss theologian Karl Barth (1886-1968). For Barth, as for Hauerwas, the “humanism” of liberal theology, which focuses on the human response to God, must be rejected.

In its place is the humanism revealed in Jesus Christ who in taking on our humanity revealed what it means to be fully alive, fully human. It is “apocalyptic” since Barth lived  “through an apocalyptic time but also because he saw the world as forever changed by a Galilean peasant.”

Though the book isn’t the place to start with Hauerwas, it is full of trenchant observations: The capitalist system “destroys human attachment to, and affections for, relationships and institutions by embedding them in impersonal exchanges.” More sarcastically, he writes that the American story is one called “freedom”: “That story produces people who think they have been wounded by being born.”

Hauerwas considers how the Kingdom of God made manifest in Jesus Christ ought to display a new kind of politics, showing an alternative to narcissism and power that can befriend “the least of these.” His is a provocative view, but, as he observes, “Few sins are more deadly than making God boring.”

“Mimetic Theory & Middle-Earth: Untangling Desire In Tolkien’s Legendarium”

“I’m of the mind,” writes Chico author Matthew Distefano, “that we can never not desire; and we will never be not mimetic. The question, then, becomes ‘to whom will we look to as our models?’” The word “mimetic” or “mimic” means “imitation.” So we learn what’s valuable by seeing what others desire and imitate that desire. If it’s the same thing or person, “mimetic” spells “trouble.”

And so it has been throughout history, people desiring what other people have; often it’s not so much the object itself (like money or political position) that evokes desire as the power the object delivers. Distefano draws on French theorist René Girard to look behind the scenes at human motivation and though for the most part the picture is not pretty, it’s, well, human.

And mostly unconscious. Girard deals with our propensity to scapegoat—create a “fall guy,” Distefano writes, whom we brand as evil and who takes “the blame for something they aren’t responsible for.” We learn in “The Lord of the Rings” the Hobbit Sméagol (Gollum) kills his friend to take the Ring; later, his tricks rile folks and he’s made the scapegoat for all the community’s woes and banished to lonely wandering.

Yet Distefano finds in Tolkien not just negative examples of desire but a different kind of mimesis. It is friendship (think of the Hobbits Frodo and Sam) “discovered, not through unconscious mimesis of a model, but rather through conscious imitation of the love and affection each have for the other.”

This vision of a better community is lovingly unwrapped in “Mimetic Theory & Middle-Earth: Untangling Desire In Tolkien’s Legendarium” ($19.99 in paperback from Chico-based Quoir, quoir.com; also for Amazon Kindle), crafted for a general audience. “It is no surprise,” Distefano writes, “I am enamored with the Shire.” It’s not perfect, but a model of friendship.

Toward the end, the author writes of his friendship with Michael Machuga in Paradise, where Hobbit-like they tend a garden at Michael’s house and afterward “put our (not so) furry feet up while pairing our pipe-weed with a glass of some of the ‘harder stuff.’”

Friendship, it turns out, is Hobbit forming.

“Sometimes The Soul Needs Chocolate: Pandemic Odes”

“Sometimes the soul needs chocolate,” the poet writes, “when we’re flung towards chaos, and plagues./ Bigots, wildfires, and powerful fools/ leap our way. Cacao lifts us up,/ unbinds our tongues, helps us stand/ on the speeding ground. Food of the gods,/ keep us wild!”

The poet is Chicoan Paul Belz. Remembering 2020-2021, his poems acknowledge pandemic and political chaos but also the importance of simple pleasures and especially connection with the natural world.

“Sometimes The Soul Needs Chocolate: Pandemic Odes” ($7.99 in paperback from Vanguard Press; also for Amazon Kindle and available locally at Made In Chico) presents two dozen free verse poems beginning with “Ode To A Pencil”:

“Do you tremble when these sparks/ gather at your paper-scratching tip,/ tingle as we fill notebooks with song,/ wear yourself out with this frenzied work,/ then shout through my arm to my heart and skull,/ beg for more images, off-rhymes, beats/ you can place in a new-born poem?”

Belz is the author of “Bidwell Park,” also available locally, and it’s clear the author-poet is transfixed by nature’s expansiveness. In “Ode To Big Chico Creek” the poet imagines where the water rushing past has been:

“Other molecules streamed skyward through oaks’ roots,/ then waited for the sun to yank them up/ to chilled air, where they gathered as clouds./ They tumbled onto roses, mallards, pines./ Rain landed on people. Did some drench Darwin,/ who strolled on the Beagle’s deck and watched spiders/ cling to bits of webs and ride the wind/ over the sea, onto his nose?”

At the poem’s end, almost as an implied rebuke to the enclosed isolation wrought by Covid, the poet exclaims: “I watch you slide by,/ while heat takes water from my skin./ I’m parched. If I drink from you,/ I’ll take in multitudes.”

While “Hospitals turn the dying away,” the poet finds some measure of relief in camping. As so many suffer, there comes an almost guilty question: “Can I briefly claim the right to be sane?” 

In that regard, the “Election 2020 Ode” expresses a wish perhaps even more relevant today: “Maybe we’ll learn to think again,/ wrangle and argue without curses,/ semi-automatics or flames….”

"Love Bath"

“It was 1986,” writes Oroville resident “Caroling Atomz” (Carolyn Adams), “and I’d been in a sick relationship since ’83. I was addicted to the man and the drug. The man was the drug. I pretended everything was wonderful. The intense orgasms and nanoseconds of love conspired to make me believe I was happy.”

Later, in 1988, she found herself on staff at Wilbur Hot Springs in Williams where she discovered a love of writing. What happened in between is told in a quirky and mostly upbeat memoir, “Love Bath” ($27 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle), which also features photographs and Adams’ artwork.

In her teenage years she had turned to drugs and booze, was sent to a boarding school at thirteen after her mother remarried, and realized her dad, abused by his father, had taken up gambling “and the ‘easy’ life” to make up for a harsh upbringing.

Things began to change in 1987 when Adams and her mom attended a new age conference at Asilomar called “The Emerging Goddess.” “I loved being in silence and in communion with one particular tree. In taking time to ‘be’ with the tree, to touch it, and to give part of myself to it, I felt rooted in deep connection with the Earth….” Adams searches for more of this rootedness in creative expression that didn’t require a man to guide her.

But more lessons first. When her new boyfriend, “Albert,” came into her life, the math professor shared the drug Ecstasy with her. “I loved feeling the essence of God in any way, shape or form. Psychedelic drugs helped me see the true Oneness of all things: how we are all One with God.”

Things didn’t turn out as expected; during a healing stay in Bali, she learned Al had fallen for another. “I was beginning to grasp … that I could move more slowly and freely, at my own pace—and that I did not need this man, or any man, to feel safe and complete.” In a therapy session at Wilbur, she finds her “heart is broken open and there is more love than ever, rivers flowing out into the sands of time.”

“Healthy Young Children, Sixth Edition”

Though it’s a textbook for early learning professionals, “Healthy Young Children, Sixth Edition” ($62 in paperback from The National Association for the Education of Young Children, naeyc.org; also for Amazon Kindle) is a comprehensive guide of interest to parents as well.

Edited by Alicia Haupt, Brittany Massare, Jennifer Nizer, Manjula Paul, and Louis Valenti, the key first chapter, “Health and Safety for Children and Early Childhood Educators,” is co-written by Shaun-Adrián Choflá, Butte College Child Development instructor. 

Choflá, with expertise in empathy therapy, and co-author Julia Luckenbill, Adult Educator/Director of the Parent Nursery School in Davis, flesh out key safety standards for early learning programs.

These standards, write Choflá and Luckenbill, are more than just physical safety practices but also embody emotional safety. For instance, how should educators choose books and other items for their classrooms? “First, partner with families. Engage in relationship planning by asking about the families’ needs, values, and wishes for their children. … Ask also for a list of key words and phrases in the families’ home languages. Setting up the classroom so that the walls and shelving reflect the people walking in for the first time is a wonderful way to support feelings of belonging….”

In addition, educators should remember that “not all families have traditional structures, so your handouts should avoid assuming that families are headed by a mother and a father.”

The authors also discuss the disruption caused by COVID-19. “As early learning programs closed,” they write, “educators lost their jobs and children were left without the in-person support that early learning settings provided, creating trauma and impacting young children’s mental health.” 

The chapter is concerned not only with trauma-informed care of children, but also the well-being of educators themselves and what early learning programs can do to foster the health of their employees (such providing substitutes and regular breaks).

Real-word vignettes throughout the chapter illustrate ways trained professionals can interact with children, like washing their hands with Dee, who is two; or how to bring children out of danger without alarming them.

This is a good guide to the good work done by educators who care for some of the most vulnerable among us.

“Shadows Of Light & Shards Of Dark: Poems ReCollected 1978-2023”

Oroville teacher William (Bill) Jackson is also a professional magician, lover of theology, and now, a “reluctant poet.” 

“I never understood, nor enjoyed most poetry,” he writes. “So I never considered myself a poet … even while writing poems. However, I have always enjoyed words. I’m fascinated by how they can carry innumerable shades of meaning. … Each word is a seed containing a tree of human thought.” 

Those seeds blossom in “Shadows Of Light & Shards Of Dark: Poems ReCollected 1978-2023” ($15 in paperback, independently published). Over 45 years, beginning after high school, Jackson penned words that capture a moment but open up into larger vistas, illuminating “who we all are, where we have been, and where we may go.”

Loosely organized into four “seasons,” Spring considers words, love, and lust, Summer is for shadows of light and dark, Fall contains “Treasured Ash” in poems for Paradise, and Winter heralds a journey toward “good grief.” “Grief,” the poet claims, “is not a rest along the way./ You’re not meant to live in despair./ Grief’s never meant to be a place to stay./ Grief is about continuing to care.”

The Appendix is a children’s story, with Jackson’s own sketches, called Mark & Cathy and the Meaning of Life, a tale about misfits who fit. 

The poet knows something fitting: “Darkness falls./ Yet, the sun miraculously rises bright./ Heaviness calls./ Yet, one is not so easily made light./ A secret:/ Gratitude defies gravity.” The poet is grateful for “Table Mountain Wildflowers” which “Tuck themselves in to the tune/ Of songbirds in the evening hours/ Serenading a stoic moon.”

Some poems here evoke smiles, others reflect deep theology. “Fear is/ A certain kind of faith/ In dark uncertainty./ Love is/ The certain kind of faith/ In light risen from adversity.” And: “No matter how logical or critical/ Love is personal, not political.” 

“Only an unchanging God can truly say ‘I AM,’” Jackson writes me. We, on the other hand, continue to change: “I’m a question waiting to form./ I’m an aging man unborn./ I’m becoming but never will be./ It’s only a stepping stone/ In what you call me.”

“John Brown’s Family In Red Bluff, California 1864-1870”

In 1833, John Brown married Mary Ann Day, just seventeen. In the first two decades of their marriage, writes Wilbert Phay, “she bore him thirteen children…. Of these, seven died in early childhood. Four of the children were taken by disease of some nature in one year. Two of her children, Oliver and Watson, were killed during the Harper’s Ferry episode.” 

Brown, drawn by the abolitionist movement, was increasingly absent from their North Elba home near Lake Placid. His “attempted seizure of the United States Armory at Harper’s Ferry failed.” Found guilty of “treason, murder, and conspiracy” he was hanged December 2, 1859.

The family’s story is told in a 1969 Chico State master’s thesis by Wilbert L. Phay, who passed away in 2020, but not before giving permission to Chico-based ANCHR (Association for Northern California Historical Research) to republish his work and include historical photographs and additional essays from ANCHR members.

“John Brown’s Family In Red Bluff, California 1864-1870” ($19.95 in paperback from anchr.org and local book outlets) includes contributions from Josie Reifschneider-Smith, Ron Womack and Nancy Leek. 

In late 1864 Mary Brown “and her four surviving children arrived in Red Bluff” after an earlier encounter with a “rebel” wagon train on the Oregon Trail. But why Red Bluff, with its “Copperheads,” “its nucleus of pro-Southern sympathizers, the most ardent haters of her dead husband,” Phay writes, “and by association, herself, and her family”?

The book answers that question, and more. Others in Red Bluff built a small house for the family in 1865, so family life was complicated, made more so by the attacks of the Red Bluff Sentinel and defense by the Red Bluff Independent. Phay and the contributors create a compulsively readable narrative that makes the past live again. It’s essential reading.

The story continues to unfold. Reifschneider-Smith, ANCHR Publications Manager, has unearthed details about why the “rebel” wagon train was so hateful of Brown and his kin, some of whom are buried in the Paradise Cemetery; she will present her findings to the Paradise Genealogical Society, 1499 Wagstaff Road (530-762-7105) on Thursday, February 15, at 3:00 p.m.; the presentation is open to the public.

“The Queen And The Empress”

Red Bluff novelist William Wong Foey, who earned a bachelor’s degree in fine arts from Chico State in 1973, mixes fact and fiction in his eighth novel. “The Queen And The Empress” ($14.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle) traces the parallelism in the nineteenth century between two of the most powerful women in the world, Britain’s Queen Victoria and China’s Empress Dowager Cixi (“pronounced Tz’u-hsi”).

Both are cigarette-smoking, scotch-drinking, headstrong, power-hungry rulers, one seeking to extend the reign of the Union Jack to ancient China, the other seeking to protect 400 million Chinese from British control by means of devious plots to upend the conciliatory tendencies of the governing regents and wrest power from them. The women have a grudging admiration for each other even as Cixi survives attempted assassination.

The story imagines two key meetings, the first at Buckingham Palace when Cixi is a mere teenage concubine of the emperor yet willing to tell Victoria (whom she is wont to call “Vicky”) where to stuff it. As the queen muses years later, the dowager “was only sixteen and was addressed as the concubine Yi at that time. ‘That young Chinese tart was strong-willed even then,’ mouthed Victoria softly.”

The second comes in 1897, at the celebration of the Queen’s sixty-year reign, when, in her private room, Victoria and Cixi duel with swords. Cixi accuses the queen of extorting Chinese silver and addicting the population to opium. The Queen replies that “our true ambition for the heathen countries we acquire is to fill their hearts and souls with God, and to be good Christians so the dark races can join civilized society. Think of us as the nurturing parents….”

Cixi wants nothing to do with the gwai los (“whites”) yet she has little choice as she schemes for power. The Empress Dowager works to modernize her country to push back the British threat, but as the twentieth-century dawns it becomes clear that monarchs around the world were becoming more like figureheads.

The two powerful women survived in a man’s world even as they mixed the personal and political at the cost of many lives. Foey’s fiction tells uncomfortable truths.

“Blind Curves: A Woman, A Motorcycle, And A Journey To Reinvent Herself”

An organizational change expert in the corporate world, Linda Crill (lindacrill.com) found herself, at age 57 and widowed, wondering “What now?”

When her husband was diagnosed with mesothelioma cancer, “in our last eleven months together,” she writes, “we grew closer, bonded by our deeply shared mission of his survival and finding ways to enjoy each day.”

She not only felt grief at his passing, but grief about losing her old self. She tried to patch a new self together: “I redecorated parts of my home—more modern, playful, and colorful—reflecting an expression I had modified when we married. Slowly, I developed new interests—knitting scarves, soul-stirring music, and adventure travel.  On the one-year anniversary of being alone, I was surprised to find myself more miserable than ever. The grief hadn’t subsided. Instead it had grown and was raw and unending.”

What was needed, she found, was not a patch but whole new way of approaching the world. And it turned out to involve a Harley, a group of three companions, and a road trip of 2500 miles from Vancouver to Mendocino and back. It’s all there in “Blind Curves: A Woman, A Motorcycle, And A Journey To Reinvent Herself” ($16.99 in paperback from Skyhorse Publishing; also in audiobook and Amazon Kindle formats).

Now a Chicoan and Osher Lifelong Learning Institute instructor, Crill’s adventures in learning to ride a Harley, and having one fall over on her, are told with humility and grace. Once she passes the DMV test the real test comes in learning to ride with her companions over rough roads and hairpin turns, always looking Fear in the face. Who knows what lies just past that blind curve?

As Crill becomes more skilled as a rider, clad in her leather gear, her chosen watchword is “VROOM!”; the trip, she writes, “changed something inside me as I processed my fears about surviving with the excitement of riding. A resilient ‘new’ Linda was reinvented by riding through the blind curves of this journey.”

Crill’s journey (including being a cancer survivor) is a beautifully-told travelogue of the outer and inner world, a delight and inspiration.

“Government Contracting: Ethical Promises And Perils In Public Procurement (3rd Edition)”

William Sims Curry, the “Principle Consultant” of WSC Consulting in Chico (wsc-consulting.com), found in his research that “95% of the 2021 research participants were using anomalous formulas to evaluate proposed pricing” of goods and services private companies wanted to sell to various government agencies.

So, in the third edition of “Government Contracting: Ethical Promises And Perils In Public Procurement” ($74.95 in hardcover from Routledge; also for Amazon Kindle), Curry proposes 48 best practices for avoiding corruption in the public procurement process, where public institutions spend tax dollars buying from private suppliers.

Curry guides those professionals in government responsible for procurement through each stage of the process, from surveying the field to see what’s available before any bids are requested, through evaluating proposals to awarding, managing, and closing out contracts. Without the proper controls and oversight things can go wrong ethically--and quickly; the book’s “public procurement corruption wall of shame” lists almost 50 issues, including “abuse of power,” “favoritism,” “suicide,” and “slovenly conduct.”

The book is full of bad examples; in 2017 the Justice Department reported that UK-based “manufacturer and distributor of aerospace, defense, marine, and energy power systems Rolls-Royce Plc, agreed to pay approximately $800 million in total to the governments of the United States, the United Kingdom, and Brazil for bribing officials in exchange for the award of government contracts.” This is more than a little oopsie.

Curry points to the use by the Department of Defense, in evaluating proposals, of “adjectival, confidence-assessment, and color-coded scoring” which makes the system ripe for gaming. Government officials can fiddle with their confidence-assessment, for instance, to ensure “a favored contractor wins the contract.”

Instead, Curry advocates for “total weighted scoring” in which proposals are scored numerically and there is “numeric weighting of proposed evaluation criteria.” That, he says, “leads to precise identification of the contractor offering the best value to the government and deters procurement corruption.”

The book also explores the ethical minefield of gratuities. Is it okay for contractors to provide government officials with coffee and pastries? Maybe, but not in government offices. 

Well, how about furniture? Uh, no. 

Escort services? You’ve got to be kidding.

“Red Skies (Aftermath)”

A mystery lies at the heart of the second book in the “Big Joe Carson” trilogy from longtime Chico resident David Dirks, now Brentwood-based. In the first, “Particle Beam (For Such A Time),” by Dirks with Dennis E. Jones, it’s the 1980s, and a tremendous explosion rocks the secret Hans M. Mark National Laboratory near Fort Wayne, Indiana. When the proverbial dust settles, it becomes clear the Department of Energy facility, and its super-secret particle beam weapon, are the victims of treason and espionage.

And so, in “Red Skies (Aftermath)” ($10.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle) by David H. Dirks, an investigation results in “apprehending Department of Energy’s HMM Lab lead scientist Horatio Glen Knightsen and accomplice Castle Marks….  While directing one of the decade's most significant Star Wars projects, Knightsen sold the plans for the top-secret Tesla Particle Beam weapon to the Israelis for $15 million.”

Knightsen has cultivated some very powerful friends and while he and Marks remain free the lab itself is on the verge of closing without Congressional approval of a new project. The folks from Grumman, military sticklers who rankle the lab’s engineers with their insistence on weekly psychological tests, are put in charge during the reorganization. A new laser weapon program gets the go-ahead, but Senior Engineer Joe Carson comes to recognize more is going on with Knightsen than meets the eye.

His beautiful neighbors, twins Sunny and Bunny Valencia, undercover US Marshalls (whose father had run a Colombian drug cartel) “found the two traitors on a yacht in the Azores and successfully extradited them back to Fort Wayne to await trial.” Carson, on administrative leave, joins the twins, and private investigator Rick Stone (who is secretly recording Knightsen and Marks), to sail Big Catch, Knightsen’s ship, now US Treasury property, from the Azores to Florida.

Investigators had found $10M dollars in Knighten’s Credit Suisse account, meaning $5M is missing. The ship is attacked and later sunk. Would a rescue operation find the missing money? And, tragically, Stone is found dead—but did he really commit suicide?

While the novel hints at answers, it also sets the scene for more revelations in the final book.

“The Boy Who Earned His Magic”

Three schoolyard bullies hold Howell Evans, twelve (almost thirteen), upside down by his ankles. It’s just another day in the town of Mount Shasta, where Howell lives with his parents and sister. Tormented by Bully Harold Bully, Pug the Pyro, and Sloppy Jack, Howell hears them howling and chanting “Witch, witch, your mother is a witch. Hunt her down, tie her up, and toss her in a ditch.”

This particular day, however, Howell has a series of strange encounters, including a Latino boy who cannot see; a creole girl who cannot hear; a Navajo girl with a great wolf; and an unsettling man in black whose eye patch glows. Then comes news that Howell’s mother, Rhiannon, named after a Welsh princess, has been in a car crash in the Sierras driving home from New Mexico. 

Howell’s eccentric uncle Tal (who drives an old VW van) explains all the weird appearances mean “they” have his mother and Howell must ride with him to find her—and prepare for the mysterious “transfer.” Otherwise the evil Drygoni will win. 

The tale is told in “The Boy Who Earned His Magic” ($15.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle) by Chicoan Lynn Elliott, playwright, novelist, Professor Emeritus of English and Creative Writing at Chico State. Originally published in 2020 as “The Crossingway,” the book has now also become a teleplay.

The script won monthly honors from the London Indie Film Festival in Best Family/Children’s Film, Best Feature Script, and Best Television/Pilot Program or Series categories. If Elliott “earns his magic” and the series is produced, it will make for a phantasmagorical ride.

Born in Wales, Elliott notes in a talk that when he emigrated to the US in his twenties he wanted to know more of the “magic” of indigenous cultures that seemed to emanate from New Mexico, “a land of desert landscapes, howling wind witches, a ghostly woman in white…. A land where people ... still live with their tales and stories of the battles between good and evil … in this mysterious land with its ancient cliff dwellings and deep, haunting canyons.”

Welcome, dear friends, to “the place between here and there.”

"Sierra Blue"

Though a longtime Reno resident, prolific writer Suzanne Morgan Williams (suzannemorganwilliams.com) has fond California memories of visiting her great aunt in Oroville, and of Redding, where her husband proposed.

In her latest novel (for ages 10-15) a ninth-grader tells her own story--wanting a new start, like a new year, only to realize she brings her “old self” along for the ride. Wanting to escape cruel words, she is fully capable of using cruel words herself.

So it is with fourteen-year-old Magic Kendall. She just wants to hide. At her school in Tillamook, Oregon word is out that Magic is psychic. She sees colorful auras around humans and other animals—from rats to horses—and is plagued with dreams of future events which have a habit of coming to pass. When an opportunity comes to help her great-aunt Leah recover from an accident in the High Sierra town of “Ibis Springs,” she figures time away will let the cruel jokes die down.

But all her psychic powers little prepare her for what lies ahead, and especially the deep connection with a thoroughbred filly named Mountain Rose whom Leah is preparing for the racetrack, and who Magic renames “Sierra Blue” ($15.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle).

Leah is training therapy horses now, and Magic learns to help with riders, each with some form of “differentness.” Then, one stormy day, a terrible vision engulfs Magic as she bicycles out to the highway to get cell service. She is thus on the scene when the horse trailer with Mountain Rose, being transported by sixteen-year-old T.J. and his dad, hits ice and careens off the road, severely injuring the horse.

Magic is able to call 911 and, after the vet arrives, crawls into the overturned trailer to comfort the horse and, sensing her aura, guides even the vet in Blue’s rehabilitation. “I could see that she was a blue roan with a dark mane and tail. And those amazing, blue tinged eyes.” When Blue is well enough to race in Los Angeles, another horrendous premonition means Magic must confront Blue’s uncertain future. 

Williams’ novel is a wonderfully immersive story of self-discovery, friendship--and new directions.