"In the Presence of Knowing" by Valarie Savage Kinney

BOOK TITLE: In the Presence of Knowing

AUTHOR: Valarie Savage Kinney

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Urban Fantasy

GRADE: Extra Credit

When her alcoholic ex-boyfriend Vince beats her while she’s pregnant, Keisha runs away from home and into the safety of her best friend Layla. Layla helps her get a job at the Windy Springs renaissance faire, a seasonal home for trolls, faeries, gnomes, witches, and other magical creatures that oftentimes blur the lines between fantasy and reality. During one of her treks into the forest, Keisha meets a troll named Gibble (real name Rogan O’Connor) and the two of them form a protective and healthy friendship with each other, something Keisha needed in her life ever since splitting from Vince. Speak of the devil, he’s still out there somewhere and could show up any minute to finish the beating he started at the beginning of the story.

One of the main reasons why I decided to give this book a full five stars was because of how much I loved the relationship between Keisha and Rogan. Their friendship development moves along too fast for some people’s comfort, but none of it feels forced or hokey. These two are perfect for each other. They use their demons to become better people instead of bitter and angry like Vince. Whenever they do get into an argument or two, it makes them stronger and better able to face adversity. They share secrets with each other not out of obligation, but because it’s what they genuinely want. If two people are this good for each other, who cares how fast everything moves? If anything, the readers will want them to get together sooner. While Keisha doesn’t have the martial arts know-how that Rogan does, I still consider these two to be equals in other areas of their relationship. Those are the best kinds of couples, the ones whose love you can believe in.

While Keisha can fend off her demons long enough to be in a healthy relationship with Rogan, she still has those demons in the first place and it shows in her thought processes. Her self-punishment is incredibly realistic of someone who’s been in a previously abusive relationship. Her anxiety and possible PTSD are written in a way that makes me believe the author had some kind of experience with these mental illnesses. Her constant worry over her child is nerve-wracking to read about at times, but it goes to show how much of a loving mother she’ll eventually become when the baby is born. Keisha is a top example of a flawed character whose weaknesses don’t ruin the character development or make them unlikable. Other authors could learn something from this. I know I did.

And then we have the renaissance faire, which aside from the evil witch Cordelia sounds like a fun place to spend a day or even work at. Whether it’s the comedic and lighthearted aura of the trolls and gnomes, the eccentricity of the pirates, the class and elegance of the faeries, or anything else that has to do with the fantasy genre, I’m giving my due props to the author for her undying creativity and passion for putting together this world. People come to medieval conventions to get away from the harsh realities of real life. They can be anything they want and be welcomed with open arms. The sense of community among the workers along with their hatred for mediocre conformity makes this tale of escaping abuse that much easier to digest. These people aren’t just coworkers or friends to Keisha. They’re family. They protect each other physically and creatively. That’s a healthy family dynamic everyone deserves to have.

This was a short and easy piece of reading made easier by Valarie Savage Kinney’s undying creativity and passion for what she writes about. She preaches anti-conformity online quite often and practices it to the fullest extent. We all deserve a chance to expand our imaginations beyond the ordinary and Valarie makes us feel safe enough to do that through her writing and online presence. An extra credit grade goes to this wonderful book, the first in a series and boy, what a beginning it was! She’ll no doubt carry this momentum into the rest of the Windy Springs novels.

Billy Rogue

I’ve been watching the wrestling tag team of The French Pirates in my head for quite sometime. It appears as if they’re living…two lives. One of the lives is Jonathan Thief. He broke away from the tag team and became a successful multi-time world champion and future Hall of Famer. He has a social security number (not really). He pays taxes (to his home country of France). He even takes out his landlady’s garbage.

The other life is Billy Rogue. He couldn’t find the same success his tag team partner did and fell into obscurity. He is also guilty of virtually every drug crime the US has a law for. One of these lives has a future. The other does not. Billy Rogue is the one who doesn’t have much of a future.

The French Pirates draw a lot of comparisons to the real life WWE tag team from the early 90’s, The Rockers. Jonathan Thief found the same amount of success Shawn Michaels did. Billy Rogue couldn’t, a la Marty Jennetty. Having said that, what do you give a man who has no future? A bottle of poison? A loaded gun? A grudge-match storyline against his old tag team partner? No, no, and yes.

But more importantly, you give Billy Rogue drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. You make him so depressed with his lack of success (that rhymes) his only option is to use every kind of illegal drug imaginable. Pot is becoming legal in a lot of states and it has no harmful side effects, so that doesn’t count. I’m talking about the hard stuff. The extreme stuff. The tubes of glue. The balloons of cocaine. The bigger balloons of heroin. And then wash it all down with a nice big bottle of vodka.

Sending Mr. Rogue to rehab would seem like the right way for a wrestling company to spend its money. If he followed the right steps, he could make a full recovery much like former WWE superstar Joey Mercury did and become an inspiration to those wanting to be sober. But how do you sell such a gigantic bill of goods to someone who still harbors jealousy toward his former tag team partner? If he gets sober, can he stay that way? Even if he does get sober, will he not find another destructive outlet for his raw feelings?

Let’s say it’s possible. Let’s say for the sake of argument Billy Rogue quits drugs and alcohol altogether and becomes a better person for it. His criminal record is spotless and he’s actually able to hold down a job. What kind of life is there for him on the other side of recovery? He didn’t have much of a life before he turned to drugs, what makes you think he’ll have one after? You think he’s going to be content with sitting in an office building or getting his computer science degree? Or maybe he can completely dork out and sell popcorn for the same wrestling promotion he was a part of.

This is a struggle that is all too familiar in drug fiction and nonfiction. It can be said about any kind of addiction, really. You don’t have to constantly shoot heroin in your arm in order to relate to addiction. There are porn addicts, adrenaline addicts, self-harm addicts, and then there’s that one addiction I personally can relate to: food addiction. Billy Rogue is to drugs what I am to food.

I’ve been addicted to food ever since going on my first round of schizophrenia medication. I used to be a skinny little twig in high school. In today’s world, my belly is large, my clothes barely fit, and my energy is gone. Food was the one thing I could turn to that gave me just a little bit of satisfaction in a world where mental illness kept me from having fun. One Reese’s Cup was more intense for me than any song written by Rammstein or Pink Floyd. Because I was so attracted to that constant high, my weight spiraled out of control and now I’m left with the daunting task of having to lose all the weight and keep it off permanently.

Addiction is the only thing Billy Rogue and I have in common. Though I live through my own characters, I don’t want to be the guy who lives through someone who openly admits to having no future. I refuse to accept dystopia. If I have a big belly and a weird appearance for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t matter to me as long as I still had a future worth working toward. That future starts with editing the crap out of Brawl Mart and sending it to a reputable publisher instead of doing the heavy lifting myself with Smash Words. I don’t know how far away that time in my life will be, but it is there. I will make my own dreams come true one way or another. I’m an adult. It’s my right to make my dreams come true.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I’m torn to pieces. I’m broken down. I still see your face when you’re not around. I sit here in misery wondering if I’ll ever be half the man you wanted me to be.”

-Pop Evil singing “Torn to Pieces”-