“Deborah’s Gift”

Deborah’s life is suffused with grief. Growing up in St. Louis, around the turn of the twentieth century, she faces what will be the first of many losses, the death of her parents.

She finds herself under the thumb of Charity Millais, her great aunt, Tante Charity (“the French form of address the old lady insists on”), harshly judgmental of Deborah’s wildness expressed in her boundary-breaking drawings and paintings. And so hangs a tale.

“Deborah’s Gift” ($21.99 in paperback from New Wind Publishing; also for Amazon Kindle) is a novel by Chico State grad Lois Ann Abraham who, before her retirement, taught literature and creative writing at American River College. Her story won the Gold Prize for fiction from the Northern California Publishers & Authors.

Deborah yearns to be free of “the dragon,” Tante Charity, who dies in 1902. Before that time, Deborah as a teenager had journeyed with her great aunt to Martinique, to her family’s estate in St. Pierre, “the little Paris of the Antilles,” historically rooted in white plantation owners “who continued to own, if not people, then certainly everything else on the island.”

A dalliance with the nephew of Villette, their Black servant, results in the birth of a baby boy, whisked away from Deborah as Deborah is whisked from the island to a respectable April-December marriage to a judge. She longs to find her son and live “where the color of his skin was not a scandal.”

In 1902, as Deborah once again approaches Martinique, Mt. Pelée explodes. “The ship was bombarded with burning stones that struck her face, and the passengers behind her screamed and pushed at her so that she lost her balance and tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs.” St. Pierre is obliterated, tens of thousands perish.

Deborah survives, though horribly burned, and paints what she witnessed. “With La Catastrophe, she had entered new territory, a place where she would challenge and implicate, grasp by the throat, and demand that her viewer not just look but feel, know, believe, experience, and respond. This, then, is what she had gained with the loss of everything.”

This, then, is the power of art, and Deborah’s gift.

"How The Word Is Passed: A Reckoning With The History Of Slavery Across America"

Thomas Jefferson's Monticello, in Virginia, was not only his home but a plantation. A World Heritage site, it has also become a place to memorialize the 607 people Jefferson owned in his lifetime, enslaving even his own six children he had with Sally Hemings. As reporter/researcher Clint Smith notes, the person who wrote "all men are created equal" "believed that Black people, as a rule, were not capable of poetic expression. 'Among the blacks is misery enough, God knows, but no poetry.'"

Himself a poet and staff writer at The Atlantic, Smith, a New Orleans native with a Harvard doctorate, visits "eight places in the United States as well as one abroad to understand how each reckons with its relationship to the history of American slavery." Smith calls on scholarly accounts, empathetic interviews with those attending the sites he visits, and oral histories--the way tenuous memories are passed down.

He visits "plantations, prisons, cemeteries, museums, memorials, houses, historical landmarks, and cities," mostly in the South but also New York and Senegal, site of the "Door of No Return."

"How The Word Is Passed: A Reckoning With The History Of Slavery Across America" ($18.99 in paperback from Little, Brown and Company; also for Amazon Kindle) is the 2023-2024 Book in Common for Butte College, Chico State (resources at csuchico.edu/bic) and other community organizations. (Smith is scheduled for a Laxson Auditorium presentation April 11, 2024.) It is a stunning book, rigorously fact-checked and yet deeply personal.

"Here I was, on a plantation that enslaved hundreds of people who had skin like mine, having a conversation with a white, conservative, Fox News–consuming woman from Texas, whose mother had conveyed to her throughout her life that people like me were—that perhaps I was—better off dead than alive. A woman with whom, surprisingly even to me, I was sharing photos of my fourteen-month-old son."

"The history of slavery," he concludes, "… is in our soil, it is in our policies, and it must, too, be in our memories." There are big gaps in our collective memories, and this book succeeds in filling them in.

"In Old Hangtown"

Placerville used to be called Hangtown after an 1849 "incident," and that's the site of Chicoan Chuck Greenwood's sprightly and compelling novel "In Old Hangtown" ($15 in hardcover, independently published). 

It's the story of two Texas cowpokes, Ralph and Fred, who arrive in Hangtown and play a large part in its development. Though Greenwood knows the area well, the book is not a historical novel but a fictional memoir written by Ralph decades later, told in cowboy lingo.

Chapter by chapter, aided and abetted by colorful characters (like Dinwiddie and his drinking establishment and whorehouse), the reader sees Hangtown develop into a thriving community, complete with small-town squabbles that threaten the "one for all" spirit. Greenwood's magic trick is to show this change almost in the background while the reader is focused on the characters and their adventures.

In the beginning, Ralph writes, "Hangtown, when we rode in lookin’ aroun’, were obviously a minin’-camp, an’ not a town. You could tell this by the people which you seed, on ‘counta that nobody looked to be from there — everbody looked to be from somewherst else, an’ plannin’ to head out to a different somewherst-else jus’ as quick as they’d got rich. We seed ever’ size an’ shape an’ color of human bein’ which they is, scurryin’ aroun’ on that road — includin’ Chinese, which some people don’ feel is a human bein’ at all. But I do."

It's a world of strong coffee ("‘Courst my notion of coffee is that it’s coffee if’n a horseshoe-nail will float in it, but it’s dishwater if’n that nail sinks") and chance encounters ("A man name’ Bidwell rode up to see us, the nex’ summer. He were from a town maybe a hunderd an’ some mile north, an’ he wanted to start him a ranch up there").

The town's spirit should be what Mr. Chisholm once told Ralph: "‘We is all ridin’ for the brand, startin’ with me, an’ we all has got to ride together. So any man which takes away from the brand, like stealin’ or shirkin’ or suchlike, has got to put somethin’ back in, so’s we can ride together again.’”

Ride for the brand, dear reader.

"Remote For Life: How To Find A Flexible Job And Fast Forward To Freedom"

"Crazy as it seems to me now," self-described "digital nomad" Jordan Carroll writes, "I remember recruiting for IBM at my alma mater, Chico State, from 2013 to 2016. We would set up a booth at the job fair and talk to candidates in person." But if you want to work remotely—the subject of his book—you need to learn "to be 'good at the internet.' And it benefits you because interacting with companies online is far more scalable than anything you can do in person."

In "Remote For Life: How To Find A Flexible Job And Fast Forward To Freedom" ($17.99 in paperback from Lioncrest Publishing; also for Amazon Kindle), Carroll lays out a comprehensive strategy. Post-Covid, he notes, when many companies are modifying their work-at-home policies, it's important to distinguish between a job that allows for some remote work and a job that is fully remote all the time.

And it has to be satisfying work. At Chico State in 2013, before connecting with IBM, Carroll was a "remote telemarketer…. I would squeeze hour-long 'call blitzes' in between a full-time university course load and two other part-time jobs." Not fun. But "little did I know, the remote work movement would become the most impactful cultural phenomenon in my life….."

Since then, Carroll worked remotely for many companies and started his own business. A resident of Mexico, he's lived all over the world. "As I built a more fulfilling life I quit many of the substances that I previously used as numbing agents, including cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs (except natural psychedelics and, well, caffeine, of course)." His "greater purpose in life is helping those for whom remote work can be the biggest lifesaver: underprivileged populations, those with disabilities, and refugees."

The secret? Well, "to get hired the difficult way, apply online. To get hired the easy way, network." Develop a personal brand, use LinkedIn, do your research and learn how to give a good interview. The details and insider tips are all here. And network, network, network.

Do you have that remote look in your eye? Then this book is for you.

"War Bound From Stockton"

The cover of the book, an image painted by maritime artist Richard DeRosset, shows USS PCS-1404 "in action against Japanese forces ashore on Aguijan Island in World War II." The little Patrol Craft Sweeper came from Colberg Boat Works out of Stockton. In fact, some 32 "small, wooden-hulled Navy ships" including salvage vessels, "rescue tugs, minesweepers, patrol craft sweepers, and net laying ships" all came to the war effort from Stockton.

Chico Naval historian and retired U.S. Navy Commander David D. Bruhn brings to life the unheralded story of Stockton's contribution to the war effort in "War Bound From Stockton" ($34 in paperback from HeritageBooks.com). The Port of Stockton exists thanks to its deepwater channel; it "opened in 1933 as the first inland seaport in California." No fewer than ten shipyards built the boats.

There are eighteen chapters, 159 photographs, maps and diagrams, and appendices listing each vessel and its awards: "Twenty-three Stockton ships collectively earned thirty-eight battle stars, and one, a Presidential Unit Citation." That was yard minesweeper YMS-95, the award "the highest a unit may receive for heroism, and the equivalent of the Silver Star Medal for an individual."

"Unfortunately," Stockton Maritime Museum President David Rajkovich writes in the foreword, "Stockton played a big role in FDR's Executive Order #9066 when a temporary relocation center was established on the county fairgrounds. At its peak, over 4200 American citizens of Japanese ancestry from Stockton and San Joaquin County were detained until more permanent camps were built in Rowher, Arkansas." But, he adds, many internees, when they turned 18, joined the Army.

Because official records and naval diaries are missing or incomplete, Bruhn played detective to piece together the stories of the ships and their crews. He is well aware throughout of the devastation of war in the Pacific. The capture of Eniwetok Atoll cost 339 Americans killed or missing and the lives of 2677 Japanese. "Finally we killed them all," came the words of Lt. Cord Meyer, USMC. "There was not much jubilation. We just sat and stared at the sand."

Bruhn has rescued Stockton's story from "the dustbin of history" with his stunningly comprehensive research and careful and thoughtful war narrative.

"Into The Shadow Realms: Book 1"

For seven-year-old Aislinn nightmares are not just kid stuff; she and brother Alex, 11, are Travelers, able in their all-too-real dreams or daydreams to visit the strangest of worlds and their colorful (especially purple) inhabitants--and to see the terrifying end to one of those worlds.

Chico novelist Hope Hill introduces readers to Aislinn, Alex, their parents and their Traveler cousins in "Into The Shadow Realms: Book 1" ($10.99 in paperback from Ink Drop Press; also for Amazon Kindle). The dreamlike story intertwines excursions into the Shadow Realms with the quotidian dailyness of kidhood.

Will the adults at the family gathering understand Aislinn's night terrors are caused by something real? "How could she tell her family that she Traveled to other worlds in her dreams and the things she’d seen terrified her?"

Terrified her so much her parents at times can hardly rouse her, as if she were in a coma. Alex explains to one of his cousins: "'She found an interactive globe showing a planet called Theopolis. When she asked what the place looked like now it showed a desolate, hostile environment.'" 

There is more: "'She asked what happened and saw the death of the planet as its atmosphere became unbreathable. She saw the people there fleeing, but not all could escape, and some chose to stay in the hopes of fixing the planet’s atmosphere. Their best and brightest minds were killed and she saw it happen.'"

With the aid of a shapeshifter named Merrick the trio and cousins find supposedly wise Observers and certain sinister Travelers want to use Aislinn in some frighteningly mysterious plan as the long-promised Prophecy Child who will save Theopolis. Is Aislinn really the Chosen One? Even if not, she has a vital part to play in the struggle yet ahead as the book comes to a close.

Alex is desperately protective of his sister. He remembers that "when he was scared as a little child and worried things would continue to get worse his father told him something he never forgot. 'Happy endings take hard work. If you don’t like how your story’s turning out work to make a happy ending.'" We shall see.

"Daddy, I'm Scared"

Chico State Communication Design major Narcippa ("Sipp") Teague played two seasons of basketball at the university (after nine years in the Navy) and now, a couple decades later, finds himself the author of a children's book. The story recalls a time when daughters Lisa and Lizette were young and plagued by nightmares. Liz, the younger, has the nightmares but her screams keep waking her sister.

Night after night they rush into their parents' bedroom and Liz would cry out the refrain that gives the book its title: "Daddy, I'm Scared" ($27.95 in hardcover from Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.; also for Amazon Kindle).

With colorful illustrations throughout, the book brings a calming presence to the reader as Liz explains her fear of "the boogieman." "'The boogieman, I thought I defeated him years ago,' Dad said with a serious look upon his face. Mom grinned at the statement and held her laugh in; she didn't want to blow Dad's cover."

"'Describe your boogieman, and let's see if it's the same vermin that I defeated,' Dad said with confidence." Liz: "'He has red stringy hair with huge eyeballs on the top of his head, and it's just so scary!'" "'How'd you do it, Dad?' Lisa questioned. Dad explained, as he takes a deep breath and poses with his hands on his hips and sticks his chest out, 'Well, girls, to make a long story short, I became a superhero!'"

It's your dream, so why not dream you're a superhero? When the monster climbs into the boy's window, the boogieman is surprised when the superhero picks him up and tosses him again and again—until the boogieman promises not to scare little kids again.

"After that, many nights and dreams have passed, and every so often the boogieman would break his promise…, but these were no longer nightmares but adventures!" "'Next time, I'll be Hawk Girl,' Liz said heroically…." From then on, the girls sleep soundly, smiles on their faces.

Teague (@iamsipp45 on Instagram) includes key workbook questions at the end, asking kids to draw their own boogieman—and then to "draw a picture of yourself as a superhero." Adults might want to get out their own pencils.

“Timmy: A Boy, An Era, A Family’s Desperate Journey”

“As for Mike and me,” T.B. O’Neill writes of himself and his brother as 1960 approached, “we thought we landed in paradise. The town accepted us and we accepted Chico as our home.” Just thirteen, Tim and older brother Mike had endured abject poverty, family dysfunction, and more moves than a U-Hall rental.

The story of the 1950s is told in “Timmy: A Boy, An Era, A Family’s Desperate Journey” ($16 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle). Intended for his own children, the book has wider resonance as O’Neill (tboneill.com) chronicles the loneliness of one who doesn’t fit in. Timmy is reckless, a failure academically, frequently ill.

“I’ll tell you our story as I remember it,” he says in the preface. “Rather than speaking in my own voice, I chose to look upon my childhood as a better angel might––calling up a third-person narrator to chronicle the foibles of our family as we stumbled through the 1950s.”

And stumble they did. “’Timmy’ does not end in victory.” 

The memoir begins in 1950 on the outskirts of Newark, California with parents Carl (“Curly”) and Naomi and life in a two-room house (no indoor plumbing) accommodating the four of them. Carl is an alcoholic and physically abusive, hitting Naomi when he can no longer handle her sharp tongue. 

As Carl’s drinking worsens, the family moves again and again and again, trying to escape themselves and find suitable work. Naomi leaves with the kids over and over, yet always returns to Carl (until a man calling himself “Ed” enters her life). The story is heartbreaking, not least in how Tim is affected.

“When he was younger,” the narrator says, “he yearned for kind words or a touch from his parents. But he came to notice that it was time itself that cured his longing. He gradually acquired the ability to detach, to expect much less from others, to ignore rejection from those who found him inconsequential. He would place his faith instead upon the man he would become, a man who needed no one.”

Will Chico change that trajectory? The sequel, “Dangle Him Purposely,” may have the answer.

“Yellowstone DNA: A Tale Of Wolves, Wildlife, And Humans”

What does it mean to say an ecosystem is balanced—and what happens when it’s not? There are scholarly answers to those questions, of course, but former Chico City Council member Scott Huber uses his latest novel to draw readers into a heartbreaking generations-long story of “Yellowstone DNA: A Tale Of Wolves, Wildlife, And Humans” ($14.99 in paperback from Long Creek Dutch Publishing).

The novel focuses on elk, wolves, and humans, which, Huber writes in the preface, “until the coming of white Europeans … existed in a state of equilibrium—two predators who hunted in small packs or clans and a prey animal that existed in numerous herds of dozens and hundreds. The predators killed only enough to sustain their small populations. The prey’s numbers were kept in balance by their pursuers.”

Based on two years of research and observation, Huber’s story mixes fictional characters with historical events. It culminates in the great debate “pitting ranchers and hunters against wildlife watchers and eco-tourists” over the question of reintroducing gray wolves into the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem. (Speculative chapters at the end take readers to 2031 and beyond to show how anti-wolf government policies might be changed.)

Huber, a hunter himself, brings nuance to the novel’s debate about restoring the ecosystem. But the wolf must be part of that balance. “In Yellowstone’s Lamar Valley,” an author’s note says, “Scott was privileged to experience close encounters with wolves and their pups … enchanted by the beautiful songs of gray wolves near Wyoming’s Sunlight Basin.”

Chapters take readers into the minds of the humans and the other animals, using indigenous names throughout. From the nineteenth century through our own time, here are the tales of Chili the elk, Nuni and Omah the wolves, Pohogwe (Po) the Shoshoni (Tukudika) archeologist, and many more.

Without wolves, the burgeoning elk population devours aspens the beavers need, ruining their habitat; then the beavers are taken by coyotes and killed by cars when they try to make for better waterways.

But this is a novel of possibility; the gray wolves, “the Isa, creator gods of Shoshoni mythology, began singing their approval.” Huber invites readers to join in.

“Firescaping Your Home: A Manual For Readiness In Wildfire Country”

“Fire must be recognized as an integral part of our landscapes,” write biologists Andrienne Edwards and Rachel Schleiger in a stunningly beautiful and indispensible guide to staying safe. What that means, they write, is moving away from old fire suppression ideas and moving toward living with fire even as changing climate and more flammable invasive species (looking at you, Scotch broom!) make it trickier to live in the wildland-urban interface (WUI).

Edwards is a Chico State botanist; Schleiger, a plant ecologist whose Magalia house survived the Camp Fire, teaches at both Chico State and Butte College. Their book, “Firescaping Your Home: A Manual For Readiness In Wildfire Country” ($29.99 in paperback from Timber Press; also for Amazon Kindle) gives readers clear guidance about hardening one’s home, creating defensible space, and planting fire-safe gardens.

In full-color pages the authors offer a catalog of hundreds of native plant species that might slow a fire, in part by catching embers. They also discuss how fire behaves and how to think in terms of fire-suppression zones. 

Five feet around the house should be a “noncombustible zone” (no organic mulch or wood chips); next come the “green zone,” the “fuel reduction zone” and, finally, beyond 100 or 300 feet, the “habitat zone.” Details on how to maintain each zone guide even a WUI novice and come not only from the authors’ expertise but from lived experience (before Edwards replaced her old roof tiles a baby possum fell through a hole—an open door for embers).

“A powerful key to protecting your home in wildfire-prone areas,” the authors write, “is to learn how vegetation and structures affect wind patterns” and to consider using a “fire shelterbelt,” windbreaks of “fire-resistent (hydrated) trees and shrubs” that can “reduce wind, flying embers, and firebrands.”

Bottom line: “We must recognize that protecting homes and families is not about controlling wildfire but rather reducing the flammability of our homes, landscapes, and communities.” The use of prescribed burns, and even letting some wildfires burn where the threat is small, draw on the wisdom of Native peoples. “Fire is something we can coexist and evolve with, moving into the future.”

“Rock My Soul: A Poet’s Heart, A Brokedown Palace, And A Final Fare-Thee-Well”

Few books have captured the essence of Chico like Stephen Metzger’s new memoir, “Rock My Soul: A Poet’s Heart, A Brokedown Palace, And A Final Fare-Thee-Well” ($19.95 in paperback from Stansbury Publishing; also for Amazon Kindle), available at Made in Chico, The Bookstore, or from the author at SMetzger@csuchico.edu.

Metzger “retired from Chico State in May of 2010, after 30 years teaching in the English, American Studies, and Journalism departments.” (Subsequently he taught at Butte College until December 2018.)

At Chico State Metzger connected with librarian Jim Dwyer, hired in 1986. Dwyer had a scholarly side (“Where the Wild Books Are: A Field Guide to Ecofiction” was published in 2010, his retirement year and the start of his “downward spiral”), but also, as Rev. Junkyard Moondog, an activist alter ego bigger than life.

“You could spot him a mile away,” Metzger writes; “long, stringy gray hair, crooked baseball cap, smile as wide as a kayak. … he always managed to surprise—if not embarrass—everyone around him, while he somehow seemed impervious to embarrassment himself.” More than once Moondog recited a poem while he “nonchalantly began to undress.” As a former girlfriend noted, “Jim didn’t have any filters.”

Metzger intertwines his own story with that of Moondog, interviewing those who knew Dwyer. Pot and alcohol use didn’t do him any favors in retirement. He died June 28, 2015, collapsing at a mini-mart on his way home after attending the Grateful Dead’s Bay Area Fare Thee Well reunion tour.

KZFR lamented the passing of a “free spirited eccentric, outspoken, caring, giving, loveable oddball. … He was pure Chico.”

In 2016 Metzger bought Jim’s old house in Chico from brother Billy. It became a rental, complete with a peace sign on the roof, and later shelter for spillway and Camp Fire evacuees.

Friend Lisa Emmerich: “People say he was a dancer who couldn’t dance, a singer who couldn’t sing, and an actor who couldn’t act, but I think he really could act. His quinessential role was the one he played every day.”

Jim’s house is a memorial to Moondog, but so is this book. Pure Chico.

“Jews And Muslims In The White Supremacist Conspiratorial Imagination”

Conspiracy theories are not what they used to be. Two authors probe that difference in “Jews And Muslims In The White Supremacist Conspiratorial Imagination” ($59.95 in hardcover from Routledge; also for Amazon Kindle) by Ron Hirschbein and Amin Asfari.

Hirschbein is Emeritus Professor of Philosophy at Chico State; Asfari is Associate Professor in the Department of Criminology in the School for Professional Advancement at Regis University. 

This is no dry treatise; it’s personal: “This collaboration between a Jew and Muslim reveals we’re both stigmatized and endangered by the same conspiratorial fantasy … Conspiracists imagine that we Jews and Muslims have nothing better to do than to conspire to replace European civilization with a tyranny such that the world has never known—a Jewish monarchy or a Muslim caliphate. Either way, the white race is doomed—just ask the shooters who terrorize our synagogues and mosques.”

Hirschbein and Asfari explore the animating beliefs of those shooters in the book’s four chapters, sardonic in tone and seasoned with Hirschbein’s trademark wordplay. 

Previously, the first chapter notes, “Driven by religious zeal, theorists become … prophets privy to secret revelations … the conspiracist theologian yearns for a redemptive, cleansing apocalypse.” Now, postmodern conspiracists revel in “transgressive entertainment … Driven by insatiable recognition hunger, the postmodernist is an entertainer, not a prophet. Risible memes trump old-fashioned prophesy.”

Join a secret society that reveals the evil going on in secret societies? No; today the goal is public acclaim or disparagement—doesn’t matter which.

Chapter two traces antisemitism stemming from the fraudulent “Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion” and its rebirth in QAnon; the third focuses on Islamophobia which portrays the Muslim Brotherhood as a monolithic “boogeyman”; the final chapter considers the meme-driven “gamification” of conspiracy theories, shooters “achieving the highest kill score. Game on!”

Is there hope? “The good news … is that informal, personal contact with Jews and Muslims often alleviates prejudice”—but that’s not in the plans of white supremicists. The authors suggest it’s betrayal of the supremicist values (like respect for police) that opened the eyes of some on Januray 6. Perhaps this book will open the eyes of others.

"Wants To Hunt A Bear"

"The Comanches do not have a word for 'God,'" writes Chicoan Chuck Greenwood in a new novel, a virtuoso performance, "but they do have a four-syllable combination that translates 'how all things become and what we should do.' The old men think that making certain that this word is carefully taught to the children is a major responsibility—the word, and the behaviors that the word requires."

One of the old men gives his name to the story. "Wants To Hunt A Bear" ($15 in paperback, independently published), is set on the Llano Estacado, the high desert of northwestern Texas, in the decades following 1864, the troublous times of the so-called "Indian wars." 

With extraordinary skill, Greenwood brings the reader deep into the life of a tight-knit band that faces the ravages of Texas Rangers and the U.S. Army. The group is not passive, yet those wisest among them sense futility. 

"'The white men are wrong,' Wants To Hunt A Bear says at last. 'They are wrong because they think that the land and the animals are things that you can own—you can tell that from the way they look at the animals, and at their fences. … We do not own the land—we belong on it, and that is different … But there are very many of them, and they build their cabins and their fences where they should not be.'"

Greenwood also brings an empathetic focus on those in the Army charged with working out a brutal form of "Manifest Destiny." When Captain Peter Mills reflects in 1872 "after the cavalry under his command had ambushed the band of Comanches," he is deeply troubled; "never before had he seen fallen enemies deliberately trampled, and the bodies of women and children are not normally found on battlefields."

Mills would become a teacher, a transformation. As Antelope tells the band, "'Sometimes a person needs several names, sometimes a person takes a long time becoming who he is.'" The Comanche language "is so economical that they do not even have separate words for 'growing' and 'becoming.'" 

A moment at the end, when those two come together, will pierce the reader's heart.

"Rocketeers"

Longtime Chicoan David Dirks, who helped get KCHO-FM (now mynspr.com) on the air as Chief Engineer, and who now lives with his wife, Karen, in Brentwood, is writing a series of novels drawing on his elementary and high school experiences growing up in central California.

Previous books in the series include "The Art Of Stretching," "A Fickle Wind," "Resurgam (Rise Again)," and "A Fickle Life." They trace the scientific adventures of young David Janzen as he and his pals endeavor to send a "rat astronaut" in a balloon high above their quiet neighborhood and, later, to win the Del Rio Vista High science fair with a rocket launch.

Now, in "Rocketeers" ($8.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle) Janzen and best friend Jack Johnson, having lost the first science fair competition, are back, preparing to best rival rocketeers Blake and Larry for first place in the twenty-sixth Annual Science Fair.

It's the mid-Sixties, and David and Jack, both 15 and sophomores, enlist junior Brian Whittman and, strangely, senior Billy Martin, brother of "thug and antagonist Bobby Martin" who died in a tragic racing accident. Yes, David's sister Martha is sweet on Billy, but, well, "it is what it is."

"Rocketeers" is less about science and more about the web of relationships Janzen must navigate—at school, in the neighborhood, and in his family. Dad Hank Janzen is mostly supportive, but mom Betty is wary, especially when Billy joins the team.

Life is complicated. The science fair is almost canceled because "irregularities" in judging last year's projects come to light. School administrators seem to have it out for Janzen and his crew. One of their advisors is rumored to be a Nazi (despite his "repentance from the egregious legacy of the Nazi Army"). Will the town of Del Rio Vista (which will remind readers of Delano) ban fireworks (including rockets) altogether?

It all comes down to the two teams setting off their rockets simultaneously. Something gloriously unexpected happens as if in answer to David's thoughts about his own life's purpose: "Terra firma is not so firma when the ground shakes. And I wondered where I was headed…."

Readers should head out to get the book.

"Snow After Fire: A Memoir Of The Paradise Camp Fire And Its Aftermath"

"My heart drops when I take in the scenery," Kandi Maxwell writes, some four years after the Camp Fire. "Paradise is scarred. It will take years to heal the landscape, and much of the geography has been changed forever. It's soul crushing."

Though she and her husband Lloyd were cabin dwellers in the Sierra foothills, away from the fire, her two sons, "who lived on a small dead-end road off Pentz," had to evacuate on that fateful day. At the same time Kandi was dealing with chronic fatigue, Lloyd COPD.

The fire sets into motion a chain of family events recounted with skill and compassion in "Snow After Fire: A Memoir Of The Paradise Camp Fire And Its Aftermath" ($15.99 in paperback from Legacy Book Press LLC; also for Amazon Kindle). 

Maxwell will sign her book (which will be sold at a discount) at Chico's Barnes and Noble on Saturday, June 10 starting at noon.

Chapters range from Fall 2018 to Fall 2021 (and beyond, in the Epilogue). Maxwell closely observes the stresses brought on by family dislocation, her parents' failing health at the other end of the State, and tensions which threaten her marriage. "We needed our lives back. After almost a year of extending so much of ourselves to my family, we were drained. We didn't want to age this way. We wanted to live life on our own terms. … I missed the solitude of our off-grid cabin and longed for the seclusion of backcountry roads."

When Lloyd needs space and quiet, he brings a trailer to newly purchased land away from the cabin, and Kandi must ford snow and mud to visit. She's alone in the cabin, except for Poochie (renamed Little Bit). Eventually come reconciliation, a granddaughter's birthday celebration in Bille Park, and another move.

Maxwell realizes "writing was my way to find clarity in an often-confusing world. It provided structure to my messy emotions. It allowed me time to reflect and to discover something to be thankful for during the chaos. It was, and is, how I find hope."

Readers will sense that hope, and celebrate as well.

"Gerti's War: A Journal Of Life Inside The Wehrmacht"

"What did you do in the war?" That was the question Chicoan Lois Buchter put to cousin Gertrude Leicht during Buchter's visit with her extended family in Germany. The answer astonished her. Drawing on Gertrude's journal as well as family stories, Buchter created what she calls a "non-fiction novel," a first-person account of life in Hitler's Germany and into the post-war world.

"Gerti's War: A Journal Of Life Inside The Wehrmacht" ($16.99 in paperback from Evershine Press; also for Amazon Kindle) is a memorial to the courage of a young woman, who at age 14 in 1938, adoring her Papa, Mutti, and older brother Rolf, finds Hitler's propaganda creeping into every area of her life. "We have a new teacher who makes us stand and say 'Heil Hitler' every time she enters or leaves the room," Gerti tells her mother; "I don't like her." 

The Nazi Party is reshaping German life, in big and small ways. "Red swastika flags stand outside our school and in front of the city offices. Political posters decorate the train station depicting Hitler as a lover of children." She and best friend Marta are hauled into the principal's office "where we were threatened with expulsion from school for pacifist troublemaking." 

Such "troublemaking" puts Gerti's whole family at risk; as the war effort expands the reader senses her growing awareness of the dangers of dissent. Rolf dies of pneumonia at 17 after saving a boy about to drown in frigid waters, yet Rolf's hope for a better future than offered by Hitler Youth spurs Gerti to start a journal. 

For Gerti, Memorial Day is a sad affair, especially after overhearing her Papa being pressured to join the Party or else, and seeing Storm Troopers standing outside a Jewish-owned business telling people not to shop there.

The story takes Gerti through 1948 and then brings readers up to date as of 1993. Gerti had fallen in love with Sigmund (Sigi) and yet they were parted, seemingly forever, and she marries Hugo Zimmermann. But after Hugo dies, there is an almost miraculous reunion with Sigi—and the rest, of course, is for the reader to savor.

"The Kingdom Of Dadria: The Blood Of Wolves And War"

Chico writer N.J. Hanson's sword-and-sorcery saga begins with "The Kingdom of Dadria: A Lamb Amongst Wolves" wherein red-headed Princess Endelynn of Dadria is set to wed Prince Sedrick of Kahren and thus unite the two great houses. 

It all goes awry as plots within plots center on Sedrick's brother, Kendrick, who aims not only to take over Dadria but to fulfill his genocidal ambitions to raze the Forest of Wayward Souls and destroy all the indigenous peoples within.

Those peoples are the "skinwalkers," humans from the Wolf, Bear, Panther, and Hawk clans able to transform into those very animals. Endelynn finds herself captive of the Wolf Clan after a fake kidnaping engineered to show Sedrick's bravery; he has gone missing in the Forest and Endelynn's life hangs in the balance. 

One must not forget the ancient prophecy of a young wolf warrior returning from the dead "as a wolf with fur red as flame, born to a woman called the Aleutsi, the Great Mother," the only hope against the pale invaders from the Walled Cities.

The plots thicken in the second in the series, "The Kingdom Of Dadria: The Blood Of Wolves And War" ($15.99 in paperback from Ink Drop Press; also for Amazon Kindle). When Endelynn is surreptitiously freed, she is befriended by the warrior Shunka, himself a Wolf Clan exile, who uses his powers to confront the monster in the forest. (This is the Wendigo, the eater-of-humans, portrayed on the cover by artist Steve Ferchaud.)

It's a neat trick: "Shunka had crouched on all fours. He'd felt the wolf spirit swell within him, his body changing to match. His face lengthened into a muzzle, hands and feet became paws, and fingers and toes turned to claws. A tail sprouted from the base of his spine. Thick, black fur rippled across his body. The man was gone, the wolf had emerged."

Months pass in the forest. Endelynn is taught hunting and fighting, and Shunka grows fond of the pale princess. It's mutual, yet as fondness morphs into love, a great betrayal looms, and readers of this captivating and violent epic will yearn for the next installment.

"Following Breadcrumbs: Tales Of A Rock And Roll Girl Child"

Her parents wedded in 1952; there they are, surrounded by friends, including Gabby Hayes, Mel Tormé and Milton Berle. Jamie Johnston's father, actor Johnny Johnston, "had the starring role in one of the first quintessential rock and roll movies, Rock Around The Clock" (though "he hated rock and roll"). Her mother Shirley was a "socialite real estate agent" in Beverly Hills. When Jamie Johnston comes into the world about a year later, her privileged possibilities seem endless.

Captured by the emerging music culture ("music is my frame of reference for everything") that made one want to twist and shout, Jamie plunges head on into a multitude of relationships, having a beer with Paul McCartney, arguing with Bob Dylan, falling hopelessly, as a "liberated ex-lesbian," for two very different men, Phil (P.F.) Sloan and the love of her life, Gene Clark ("one of The Byrds…. I couldn't even think straight").

The stories are told in "Following Breadcrumbs: Tales Of A Rock And Roll Girl Child" ($13.99 in paperback from iUniverse; also for Amazon Kindle), a life of encounters more than coincidental. 

"One day," she writes, thinking of her parents, "I would discover I inherited the propensity toward self-sabotage in my own career. Not only that, I would attract and be attracted to other people that did the exact same thing." She is a fixer, wanting to save others from themselves. What could go wrong?

Johnston's prose draws the reader into an emotional world of fractured relationships, drugs and booze, bands and gigs and songwriting and learning to surf, pregnancies lost, hidden illnesses and deaths, and living arrangements around the state, each chapter named by a lyric. 

The final chapter, "Two Tickets to Paradise," brings Johnston to, well, Paradise--and the Camp Fire; she writes me that "I lost so many precious books (and music in every format) in the fire" but now she's "back up in Paradise, a new house on the old land."

"I must follow the breadcrumbs back, back to the beginning," she writes, "to see where I've been, and to see where I might be going." 

It's a wild, unforgettable and heartbreaking journey of self-discovery.

"Bardo"

In a series of novels, starting with "Venice Beach" in 2015, Chico writer Emily Gallo (emilygallo.com) has charted the lives of a group of unlikely friends. In her latest, "Bardo" ($12.95 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle), the focus is on Luther Banks, a forty-something Black man living in Garberville on guitarist Dutch Bogart's pot farm. 

Others are there, too: "Two of the men, one Black and one White, were quite old, maybe in their late eighties. … The three women all looked like they were in their twenties or thirties." 

Luther falls under suspicion when a body is found nearby. He had spent twenty years in San Quentin on a murder charge; though he had been exonerated through the work of the Innocence Project, the prison sentence was still in the records.

Rather than remain on the farm and face harassment as a Black ex-con, Luther heads for the Bay Area, meeting with his friend Jed Gibbons, "a tall, sinewy African-American" and a survivor of the Jonestown massacre in Guyana, who is now the caretaker of the famous San Francisco Columbarium (where Luther's mother has a niche). 

Jed connects Luther with former best-selling writer Finn McGee (Gallo's protagonist in "Venice Beach") in New York. McGee is old, curmudgeonly and sarcastic, the perfect guide for Luther, naïve in the ways of modern life (including the stiff drinks favored by McGee). 

Luther doesn't know what to do with his life and Finn introduces him to the idea of "bardo," "a Buddhist term," Finn says, "for those times like what you're dealing with, when the normal sense of the continuity of your life is interrupted." (Or, as Dutch would put it later, "The state of existence intermediate between two lives on earth. … they'd take away my hippie credentials if I forgot!")

What better way to navigate Luther's "in between time" than a road trip? With the help of a newly-purchased '83 Chrysler LeBaron Town and Country convertible, and the companionship of a stray cat they name Bardo, Luther and Finn head back to California. 

A growing sense of calling, and a welcome surprise at the end, bring Luther great joy, and the reader as well.

"Stride Out"

When it comes to the hallowed halls of sports fame, Chico has much to be proud of. For Cdr. David D. Bruhn, USN (Retired), that includes track and cross country, and though the Chico author has specialized in writing Naval history, he turns his attention to running in two recent books.

The earlier title, "Toe The Mark," details the "distance running dynasty developed at Chico High School … in the 1970s." Now, "Stride Out" ($29 in paperback from Heritage Books, heritagebooks.com) seeks to honor the development of both the men's and women's track and field and cross country programs at Chico State from 1969-1979.

The book sports more than 100 historic photographs. It's a comprehensive, year-by-year account of coaches and teammates, including setbacks (budget cuts eliminated Chico State cross country in 1975) and triumphs (it returned the next year, and a women's program was added).

Detailed accounts of meets and practices abound; ah, memories! 

In 1977, the Lady 'Cats' cross country rigorous workout regime, under coach Cherrie Sherrard, included Thursday's hour of "Fartlek," Swedish for "speed play," "a combination of different distances at different speeds to stress continuous movement, plus weight training." 

In 1979, Wildcat Cross Country team member Jill Symons (shown on the cover) was All-American.

Chico State's Duwayne Ray is also on the cover; he won the mile at the 1969 NCAA College Division Track and Field Championships in Ashland, Ohio and that year was All-American and National Champion in the mile.

Miler Kim Ellison clocked in at 4:01.4 in 1972 on the College Field dirt track, in bitter cold, a school record that stood for 37 years until Scotty Bauhs' 3:59.81 performance in 2008.

Speaking of 1972, runner Laura de Ghetaldi remembers team members taking to the track one afternoon and being serenaded by the lead singer-songwriter Tom Johnston and the Doobie Brothers who were practicing nearby for that night's Pioneer Week concert. "Listen to the Music" provided "the best 'Fartlek' training I ever had in all my years on our track." Some 39 years later de Ghetaldi had a chance encounter in a Del Mar parking lot with—Tom Johnston. 

Run and get the book for the rest of the stories.

"The Rosey View Of The World: One Woman's Journey Through The 20th Century"

Andrew Bassett (andrewscottbassett.com) "still living between Anderson and Cottonwood," realized that the eulogy he delivered at his mother's funeral several years ago evoked a life that would fill a book—and now it has. "Her life," he writes me, "was so amazing that I just had to create a novel that was part fact, part fiction." 

Bassett's mother, Rosetta, becomes "Rosey." Her youngest son, "Danny," is fighting writer's block after publishing a best-selling first novel. When Rosey dies in her eighties, Danny flies to Phoenix for the funeral even as his agent presses him for the long-promised manuscript.

"The Rosey View Of The World: One Woman's Journey Through The 20th Century" ($15.95 in paperback from Luminare Press; also for Amazon Kindle) is a captivating tale within a tale, recounting Danny's present-day woes but also his mother's life in notes she bequeathed to him (which fill most of the novel). Born in Northampton, England, Rosey, like Forrest Gump, seems to be present at history's hinge moments. 

Young Rosey survives the Battle of Britain; later, she doesn't tell her parents when, at sixteen, she and a friend frequent the club scene. She meets Max, a German prisoner of war, jovially escorted by British soldiers knowing he is no Nazi and will soon be returned to Germany. Max and Rosey spend hours together talking and dancing, little knowing that in the years to come they would meet again—and again.

Rosey marries an American soldier, lives in the segregated South, befriends a Black woman named Carol, becomes involved in the civil rights movement (attending Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" rally in Washington, DC), hangs out with Elvis and later the Beatles, and discovers a terrible secret about her soldier husband. Plain-spoken, with a deep sense of justice, Rosey breaks down sexist and racist barriers.

"When my mother faced a wall in her life," Danny tells his girlfriend, "she tore the wall down. She did everything she could to destroy the bloody thing … as she would have said." 

As the walls tumble in Danny's life perhaps a few will fall in the reader's life as well.

"The Story Of Christianity Told As Good News For All"

My friend and retired Butte College philosophy instructor Ric Machuga begins his new book with a provocative theological statement: "I believe in the God who can and will save everyone. My belief," he continues, "is grounded in a literal reading of St. Paul: 'Just as one man's trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man's act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all' (Romans 5:18)."

The claim is provocative, of course, because at first glance it seems to override human free will. What about those who choose not to believe? In the book's sixteen chapters Machuga tackles the question head on, first through a philosophical lens and then through a theological lens. Even those who vehemently disagree will find I-never-thought-about-it-that-way insights in "The Story Of Christianity Told As Good News For All" ($15.99 in paperback from Quoir, quoir.com; also for Amazon Kindle).

If moderns sometimes talk about “choosing to believe,” Machuga questions the coherence of that claim. He tells his own story of how "God’s choreography" brought him to belief in universal salvation, belief that for him is as undeniable as the roses outside his office window. "Belief is voluntary," he writes, "but it is not chosen."

Central to Machuga's argument is that in Christianity, God is "non aliud," meaning "not 'another thing or person' in the universe." His key theological claim tracks with Augustine, that God created “a world with space and time, not in space and time.” God is not just another a thing in the universe competing with human free will. 

The book uses some important, and mostly jargon-free, philosophical distinctions to draw out the implications of this view, which allow for affirmation of the traditional Christian Creeds within the context of “salvation for all.” And, importantly, it places new emphasis on the doctrine of the Trinity and the revelation of this transcendent God through the God-man, Jesus of Nazareth.

Machuga’s own story of this gift of belief is woven into his account, and it’s clear his prayer is that this volume may also be part of the Holy Spirit’s choreography for the person who takes up this book, and reads.

"Missing In The Maldives"

Chico novelist Mike Paull brings readers the third in a series of international spy thrillers with "Missing In The Maldives" ($15.99 in paperback from Wings ePress, Inc., wingsepress.com; also for Amazon Kindle). 

The Republic of Maldives is a group of islands southwest of India and Sri Lanka, a touristy destination for the well-heeled and shadowy heels alike. One fine day in 2011 a body washes up on Thulusdhoo island, the victim's passport identifying him as Craig Cooper.

That's a bit of a conundrum since the real Craig Cooper ("Coop"), Deputy Director of the "Agency," is very much alive in Washington, DC. Five months earlier he and his Agency partner Zoe Fields had been shot; while Coop quickly returned to work, Zoe "remained in a deep coma for eight weeks…." 

But now she's well, and not a moment too soon. Coop convinces the Director to bring her back to the Agency (despite her disappearance for a time "with nine million dollars of Agency money," told in Book II, "She's Missing"). 

They are no strangers to dangerous international assignments (Coop is shot in the back in Book I, "Missing," as he searches for the rumored Iraqi gold hoard after the demise of Saddam Hussein). And now it seems Israel wants to find a rogue Mossad operative, Lev Cohen, who with his girlfriend Rachel Kagan murdered the Mossad director and absconded with the nine million. 

Earlier Zoe had pumped three bullets into Kagan's chest but Lev is nowhere to be found. And then word comes from the chief of the Maldives National Defense Force and Police Service, Shaquille Azeez, that the body is Craig Cooper is in the morgue.

Well, game on. When Coop is thrown into a Maldivian jail, he enlists a fellow prisoner to work on an escape plan. With Coop missing in the Maldives, Zoe sets out to find him. Along the way an intricate plot is revealed, spycraft is pushed to its limits, and, as Coop observes, "in this business, betrayal never comes from our enemies. It always comes from our friends."

Paull's crisp writing and endearing heroes make the pages fly by, but let the reader be warned: Trust no one.

"A Fickle Life"

Uncertainty reigns in the new novel by long-time Chicoan David Dirks. Now living in Brentwood with his wife, Karen, the author draws on his own life experiences to fashion a series of stories about the teenage years of one David Janzen. 

It's the 1960s. Now a sophomore at Del Rio Vista High School in a farming town in Central California, Janzen and his pal Jack Johnson are still smarting from their loss at the school's science fair a year earlier. They were convinced their rocket experiments would take top honors. 

Uh, no. 

Salley Marsh and her team win for hydroponically grown vegetables and "even Blake Sandy (my neighbor who is one year older and the older brother of Mandy Sandy) won attention with a model V-2 rocket."

For their biology class project David and Jack revisit their balloon experiments, this time monitoring the heartbeat of the rat-astronaut Gus Grissom as his capsule parachutes to the ground. Things don't go quite as anticipated—especially with teammates Molly Beth Brown and Mandy Sandy.

Readers should take each novel in order in the growing series, beginning with "The Art Of Stretching," then "A Fickle Wind," "Resurgam (Rise Again)," and, now, "A Fickle Life" ($7.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle). There's at least one more on the way since many loose ends are left hanging. And perhaps that's the point. 

The city council faces protests when it tries to ban hot-rodding; David's sister Martha is secretly seeing whiskey-drinking, Cuban-cigar-smoking Billy Martin, younger brother of Bobby, a bully who died in a car accident; and rumors abound that chemistry teacher Karl Grundig, "former lieutenant in the German Army during the war," is creating a powerful cabal, including Jack and his father, promoting Nazi beliefs.

As Janzen reflects on the story he's narrating, he realizes the good ol' days are over, when the big question was how to retaliate against dirt clods lobbed by neighbor kids. "Life was turning out to be a continuous stream of losses…. This year, it felt as if I was losing a sense of normalcy. Everything seemed out of sorts—very fickle. I wondered if life would return to normal."

Uh, no.

"Intercept: The U.S. Navy's Intelligence-Gathering Ships ('Cold War Spy Fleet') 1961-1969, 1985-1989"

In the early 1960s an "obscure entity" called the National Security Agency wanted to broaden its collection of signals intelligence (SIGINT). In addition to using land-based cryptologists, it worked with higher ups in the Navy to take some of the old World War II ships out of mothballs and convert them into "floating collection sites."

The work of the spy ships, with the first of eleven, the USS Oxford, commissioned in 1961, would end in 1969 after violent and deadly encounters (with the exception of the USS Sphinx monitoring Sandinista government communications off Nicaragua in the late 1980s). 

The ships were virtually defenseless. In 1967, during the Six-Day War, "Israeli forces surprisingly attacked the USS Liberty off the Sinai Peninsula … killing 34 Americans and wounding 171 others." In 1968, the USS Pueblo "was forcibly captured by North Korean forces … in international waters. Eighty-two officers and men were taken as prisoners. The crew was tortured and beaten … and spent eleven months in captivity until finally released on 23 December 1968."

The stories of all the spy ships are told with care and precision by Chico writer Cdr. David Bruhn, U.S. Navy (Retired), using publicly available sources. 

"Intercept: The U.S. Navy's Intelligence-Gathering Ships ('Cold War Spy Fleet') 1961-1969, 1985-1989" ($30 in paperback from Heritage Books, heritagebooks.com), with a foreword by former Acting Under Secretary of Defense Charles L. Cragin, and a cover painting by Richard DeRosset depicting the Korean attack on the Pueblo, also contains 138 historical photographs (including one of John Wayne) along with maps and diagrams.

The Israeli attack on the USS Liberty remains controversial to this day. The evidence points to deadly misidentification, misinformation and miscommunication. The Israelis apparently believed the vessel was a warship; when aircraft attacked "tragically they either shot away the American flag or the halyards burned. The flag was gone by the second and third passes…." The USS Liberty had just four .50 caliber machine guns and some small arms, no match for the air attack and subsequent torpedoes.

Bruhn celebrates the heroism of those who served aboard the spy ships, and "Intercept" is a fitting memorial.

"Breaking Night: A Memoir Of Forgiveness, Survival, And My Journey From Homeless To Harvard"

"I envision my mother," Liz Murray writes. "The symmetry of our lives has become clearer to me lately. She was homeless at sixteen too. Ma also dropped out of school. Like me, Ma made daily decisions between hallway or park, subway or rooftop. The Bronx, for Ma, also meant wandering through dangerous streets, through neighborhoods with lampposts littered with flyers of police sketches and sirens blaring at all hours of the night."

Born in 1980 to drug addicted parents, Murray found herself on the streets after her mother died of AIDS and her father, HIV positive, moved to a men's shelter. Her harrowing childhood, the subject of a Lifetime movie, is told in the chilling and challenging "Breaking Night: A Memoir Of Forgiveness, Survival, And My Journey From Homeless To Harvard" ($26 in hardcover from Hyperion; also in paperback and ebook editions).

Murray was the scheduled keynote speaker for the Jesus Center's spring luncheon at the California Park Lakeside Pavilion, on Saturday, March 25.

As a homeless teen she bounced from friend to friend. "Sometimes we would stay out until the dark sky grew light again—what we in the Bronx called 'breaking night.'" Drugs and booze were plentiful, though, she writes, "I was repulsed by drugs and alcohol and didn't go near either of them." She remembers something her mother said as she was coming down after shooting up: "Lizzy, don't ever get high, baby. It ruined by life. You'd break my heart if you ever got high."

Something inside made her imagine other possibilities; she completed alternative high school, received a New York Times scholarship, got into Harvard after being waitlisted, and graduated in 2009. 

She realized that just as her "homeless friends were once certain that there was simply 'no way out' … homeless person or business person, doctor or teacher, whatever your background may be, the same holds true for each of us: life takes on the meaning you give it … the only time to embrace life fully is now."

"The Wisdom Of Hobbits: Unearthing Our Humanity At 3 Bagshot Row"

"What is needed in life is balance," writes Chico author Matthew Distefano, "between an adventure and a home, between a quest to The Lonely Mountain or even Mordor, and a cozy hole in the ground at the end of Bagshot Row; a home where we can tend to our flower and vegetable gardens, smoke our pipe-weed, tell our tales over pints of ale, and enjoy the company of the very fine and extraordinary Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men, and wizards we have in our own lives."

While Distefano doesn't supply pipe-weed or pints of ale, he does provide "The Wisdom Of Hobbits: Unearthing Our Humanity At 3 Bagshot Row" ($19.99 in paperback from Chico publisher Quoir, quoir.com; also for Amazon Kindle). It's a deep dive into J.R.R. Tolkien's legendarium with an emphasis on the halflings--who prove to be far more nuanced than portrayed in Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies.

The book fleshes out life in the Shire (and other Hobbit habitats) and the nurturing of Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam who find themselves unlikely heroes. (Helpful footnotes orient readers; appendices display the author's sketches of the Shire, maps, a listing of three dozen plants grown or farmed in the Shire, and historical Hobbits.) 

"Western culture," Distefano notes, "has, by and large, fallen out of love with the simple life." The foreword, from best friend and writing collaborator Michael Machuga, puts it this way: "It seems more correct to say we work in order to make our relaxation rewarding, than to say we relax to be more productive at work."

Hobbits are tillers of the soil and spinners of tales and though they are not perfect (they are wary of strangers and even of other Hobbits), they can teach Big Folk much about the value of friendship—especially when an "adventure" awaits and, with trembling resolve, they embark on the Road. Distefano opens to readers philosophical/theological questions about free will and providence, sacrifice and loss, and living in the now.

The book is a fitting homage to Tolkien, "the greatest mythologist," and, like a Hobbit, a friendly companion for the daily messiness of life. 

"Help! What Is My Purpose?: Understanding Life Purpose And How To Discover Yours"

A chance encounter with an author in Chico led a reporter to pass along news of a book about finding one's purpose. Writer Ada Anisiobi, with a pharmacology degree, found herself taking a good job that didn't match her passions. "I was a pharmacist working in the telecoms industry," well paid but bored.

Then the breakthrough. "It was only when I stood up as an instructor, training my colleagues, that I experienced some joy. I knew then, without any doubt, that I was created to impart knowledge." And that knowledge is focused on helping others find their purpose. On social media, "I heard young people crying for help, guidance and direction. One girl wrote, 'Please help me, I don't know what to do with my life.'"

"Help! What Is My Purpose?: Understanding Life Purpose And How To Discover Yours" ($13.99 in paperback from 50dot7; also for Amazon Kindle) is Anisiobi's answer. Geared for teens, the book defines life purpose and then helps readers discern their own.

For Anisiobi, "life purpose can be defined as the reason for the existence of an individual human being … the result you're expected to produce during your life." It's "pre-determined, so you don't choose it; rather, you discover what it is." Fulfilling one's purpose is "your contribution to justify the free oxygen the Earth gives you. Purpose is that chore, task, or assignment you were created to fulfill."

Work is crucial. "You ought to pursue a career that's connected to your purpose. You should select one that stirs your passion … and fills your heart with joy." Too much emphasis on prestige careers stifles one's purpose. "Within the Nigerian context," for example, "this pattern is quite common. Many parents expect their children to choose professions for financial and status reasons. They ignore their children's potential…."

Identifying one's purpose means answering a series of probing questions about what one loves or hates, one's strengths and temperament (sanguine, choleric, melancholy, phlegmatic), one's uniqueness. Education is key, and so is hard work.

In the end, she writes, "How about you discovering your purpose and letting the world pay you for it?"

"Heart-Land: Growing Up In The Middle Of Everything (Expanded Edition)"

Chico writer/photographer Doug Keister chronicled his kid years growing up in Lincoln, Nebraska, "the middle kid, born in the middle of the country, in the middle of the century" (1948), in a fittingly titled book called "Heart-Land: Growing Up In The Middle Of Everything." 

That book came out in 2013 but there is more to tell, and so Keister's forty-sixth book is born with the all-new title of "Heart-Land: Growing Up In The Middle Of Everything (Expanded Edition)" ($12.99 in paperback, independently published; also for Amazon Kindle).

The new book brings in the chapters from the earlier tome, adds a few to round out the kid years, and then takes Keister into an emerging adulthood with little interest in academics but very great interest in dark rooms; well, photography darkrooms. What develops is funny, wry, poignant.

That section concludes with his "death-defying road trip" to California in 1968, but the book itself ends with ten short pieces: "addendums, anecdotes and associated aggrievements." 

That includes the incredible story of what happened when, in 1965, "I acquired close to three hundred 5"x7" glass negatives" from a friend, which turned out to have hundreds of images of Lincoln residents from the early twentieth century, mostly of the city's Black population. But who was the photographer? That took decades to determine, but in 2012, after an exhibition sponsored by Chico State, the Smithsonian's new National Museum of African American History and Culture took notice.

Keister calls himself a "word-miner," starting with teenage fascination about any "colorful word or phrase," including euphemisms, dagnabbit. Speaking of which, in the "Real Sex!!!" chapter he writes of his "first standard-issue embarrassing sex" at 21 in Berkeley. "Intoxicants were involved. In brief (and I can assure you that is precisely what it was) my experience was akin to shaking up a warm can of Coca-Cola for, let's say, about four years, and popping the top."

Now, even though he's technically a "senior citizen," "people often call me Dougie, and most days I wake up with a child-like sense of wonder…. I chalk it up to my great fortune of growing up in the middle of everything."

"Hermosa"

Yesika Salgado "is a Los Angeles based Salvadoran poet who writes about her family, her culture, her city, and her fat body. Salgado is a two-time National Poetry Slam finalist and the recipient of the 2020 International Latino Book Award in Poetry." 

In a presentation entitled "To The Bloom—An Evening of Poetry and Conversation," sponsored by the Butte College Diversity Committee, she will be reading from her work Thursday, February 23 from 7:00-9:00 pm at the Chico Women's Club. It's free and open to the public.

In "Hermosa" ($16.95 in paperback from Not a Cult; also for Amazon Kindle), Salgado completes a trilogy of transformational meditations begun in "Corazón" and "Tesoro." She uses free verse (with few capital letters) to chart the course, through many shoals, of becoming "hermosa" (gorgeous, with a kind of seductive flair).

In "The Trick" the poet confesses: "today I am not a writer. I am my halted Spanish and insecurities. I am fingers that know letters but not grammar. my only degree is my library card. I read someone else's words and shrink. turn into a speck of envy. … can't stop feeling like I am a cheap magician’s trick. if I move too quickly I’ll give myself away. you'll learn, I am only stacking these words together to pull myself out. I don't know how you got here. I wasn't trying to save you. all I have been doing is staying alive."

Staying alive is not always easy. In "The Almost Death," the poet writes: "did I tell you / about the time / I was dying? / about my uterus / that couldn't stop bleeding / the doctors blaming my fatness / and me agreeing / did I tell you / about the time / I couldn't get dressed / because I was more crime scene / than anything…."

There are childhood traumas and times when "love goes sour." Laments, yes, but also a self-discovery that is sometimes sexually explicit. 

In a word addressed to "my love" (the reader?), Salgado writes "I hope within these pages you are also able to find your own beauty, what calls you home, what sets you free. … in full bloom, Yesika."

"The Cat And The King"

Meghan Irene, co-host of the Writing On Air program on KZFR (kzfr.org) and a Camp Fire survivor living in Chico, posted on Facebook (poetmirene) about a story she wrote in 7th grade.

When the fire consumed it, she rewrote "The Cat And The King" ($22 in paperback, independently published) "with the intention of capturing the magic and meaning that I had when I was eleven years old." The story was "brought to life with original watercolor on tea-stained paper" by Steve Ferchaud, illustrator extraordinaire (who sneaked her beloved Mt. Shasta into the background).

"Long, long ago," we're told, "in the Kingdom of Starrybourne, lived a princess named Isabel Wilde. Isabel's father was the infamous King Henry Wilde III … a very greedy man. As a child, Henry longed for attention, friendship, and love. Yet, once Henry was given reign as King of Starrybourne, he cared not for empathy and goodwill."

Trees are chopped down to build castle walls, roads are cut through villages, and where "songbirds once chanted, now only the caw of a lonely raven could be heard."

Isabel, isolated in her castle, dreams of exploring "the emerald forests and cobblestone streets." Later, walking the hallways, she sees "a small cat with a tawny star on his forehead." She calls him Louie, because, why not? When Louie pounces on a strange, glowing emerald, something begins to change in her.

Louie gives her courage to venture outside the castle into the bleak countryside. "If only I could save this land," she tells Louie, "and give back to the people what my father has taken away." That's her desire, and suddenly Isabel remembers the story "about the magical wishstone of the Starrybourne forest … a mysterious gem that could make a single wish come true for whomever held the stone."

Her wish? "I wish you could be King, Louie. I know you would show me how to make this world a better place, and you would use your power to do something wonderful."

And just like that, Louie is King and the King is Louie. What happens next is the stuff of dreams, a valentine to the hope deep within each of us.

"Science And Religions In America: A New Look"

"I'm fascinated," writes Greg Cootsona, "by the way in which cultural forces we call 'scientific' and others we name 'religious' interact (in) a stunning variety." That variety is displayed in "Science And Religions In America: A New Look" ($24.95 in paperback from Routledge; also for Amazon Kindle), written for his undergraduate classes at Chico State, where he is Lecturer in Comparative Religion and Humanities, but immensely accessible to the general reader.

If the mention of "science and religion" evokes the supposed conflict between science and a more literalist Christianity, Cootsona shows things are not so simple. 

His goal, admirably achieved, is to broaden the reader's understanding of how the sciences (think Big Bang or human evolution) interact with multiple religious traditions in the United States (not just Christianity but Buddhism, nature and indigenous religions, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, and those who identify as "spiritual but not religious").

Though Cootsona presents historical context, the focus is on our current "age of technology" (an ambiguous "gift" of science) which raises questions: Can genuine Hindu worship take place electronically? What is the impact of what Cootsona calls "streaming spirituality" in his research on emerging adults who no longer identify with a particular religious tradition? 

Each central chapter begins with a "lightning round" Q&A about the tradition's core commitments, followed by a thoughtful engagement on questions of science and technology with experts in the field (including Chico State colleagues Sarah Pike on nature religions, Daniel Veidlinger on Buddhism, and Kate McCarthy on religious pluralism). 

The relationship between the given tradition and science is sometimes tense, sometimes independent, sometimes collaborative. Cootsona resists efforts to reduce every tradition to an ethics of love, noting that one's religious experience is shaped by the surrounding culture and needs to be addressed on its own terms. 

The bottom line is that "religions retain their vitality as they engage contemporary culture and that science is a key cultural player."

"Shadowman"

"Welcome to Vietnam."

Drafted in 1966, nineteen-year-old Phillip I. Elkins (better known today as Señor Felipe, host of "LA Sounds with Sr. Felipe" on Chico's KZFR.org) little knew what awaited him. Years later, living in Chico, flashbacks would haunt his life and become a relationship wrecking-ball.

Elkins is writing a series of autobiographies that capture the eras (and errors) of his life. In "Shadowman" ($20 in paperback from Sr. Felipe Press, srfelipe.weebly.com; also for Amazon Kindle), Elkins tells the story of his life in Chico.

This time he writes in the third person, using his best friend's name as the central character, mixing in excerpts from earlier books, memories from childhood (where Elkins was known as "Cookie") and his year in Vietnam. 

Elkins notes that "Shadowman" was written "when I was having a pretty rough time with things. I was going through my second divorce, and I was letting go of a successful business that I had for several years, and I couldn't seem to find a suitable job."

PTSD leaves him with a "terrible short-term memory, I was explosively angry, and I was constantly exhausted. I felt confused and disorganized…." So the story of "Eddie Pacheco" and his disintegrating marriage to Peaches is dark indeed, especially after Peaches is sexually assaulted by a stranger.

Eddie's anger is palpable. But who to be angry with—an unknown assailant, some higher ups who promoted a purposeless war? After Vietnam he is physically whole but mentally wounded. In one horrific incident, "Eddie throws up again and again. He wanders off, seeing fire burning, smelling oil, gas, flesh, clothing, and bone all burning together. He retches some more. He feels dizzy and weak, and he falls to the ground and lays there, grateful that he's still alive but somehow wishing he wasn't."

Depressed in Chico, thinking of jumping off a cliff in Upper Park, he meets a woman who is about to do the same thing. The two are saved by a ranger with a surprising childhood connection to Eddie. Something begins to change in him; "the shadows are fading," he realizes. 

And there's an old childhood memory, pushing back against the void: "Lookie, lookie, lookie—Here comes Cookie!"