Books like Machine Dreams

I am a writer and novelist who comes to storytelling via several curious paths. I am a historian trained in archival research and the collection of oral histories. I also come from a long line of ghost magnets–all of the women in my family have been for generations. And while I am living in blissful exile on the West Coast, my heart remains bound to my childhood home, the Great State of Texas. 

I read a lot of literary fiction. At the moment, I’m finishing To Paradise by Hanya Yanagihara, which I’ve enjoyed and whose novel, A Little Life, was brilliant. My interest in thriller fiction is sparked by writers who bring their considerable literary talents to their trade. John LeCarré comes to mind. Writers who sacrifice depth of character or concern for place quickly lose my interest. Thankfully, there are many thriller writers who do a superb job of keeping my wandering nature in check. (A quick note: I also write dystopian fiction under my pen name James Jaros.)

As a 34-year-old memoirist, one of the most frequent questions I get about my genre, delivered with both curiosity and disdain, is: “Why?” After all, why? What could I, the life experience and literary equivalent of a pollywog, have to share about my journey—or, gasp, what I’ve LEARNED? The fun thing is, as someone who once broke my parents’ computer by using dial-up internet to download Napster, I’m used to disappointing people. Even more fun: as a millennial memoirist, I don’t believe in writing books that will tell people what I’ve learned. I hope my writing shows, through both merit and content, that I have indeed learned something.

After completing the first draft of Monday Rent Boy, I was taken aback to discover a common theme running through all of my books: a focus on children in adverse situations. A Secret Music. The Ghost Garden. And now Monday Rent Boy. What holds paramount importance for me… is tracing the trajectory of the injured child as he or she navigates the journey toward adulthood…And…what does that path look like… what are the factors that help a person rise versus the ones that crush another? The more urgent answer to the question of why write? I came to see that certain subjects need to be written. And hopefully, read. 

Behind every cloud, a silver lining, right? You have to take the good days with the bad. But those clichés miss that life is funny, sad, hilarious, mournful, at the same time. We understand that the happiest of days have a tinge of sadness about them. Conversely, real sadness or missing someone possesses a strange beauty. But sometimes we forget that when it comes to our books. We want our novels to be “a comedy,” or “a romance,” a “laugh riot,” or “tear-jerker,” even though Life doesn’t put itself into those separate boxes. Funny, sad, romantic–all have informed my own writing, and all are present in this list of books as well.

I’ve always loved books about outsiders and stories that make you palpably feel what others do. In real life and fiction, the characters that interest me most are often outsiders. Because characters on the outside of social groups and norms are often isolated and lonely, there is something so powerful about works that can bring you inside their experience and relate what their inner life is like. Interiority is the great strength of literature, and stories that convey the inner architecture of outsiders have always attracted me. I love books that make me feel deeply connected and that linger in my subconscious long after I’ve read them. 

Sometimes you need to search for the next roads to take in your life; other times these roads approach you. I was looking for new ways to use my long-term communication and mental health advocacy skills and then, sadly, the Sandy Hook shooting occurred. I immediately wanted to help community members ease their pain and assist cities nationwide to greatly improve their disaster mental health response. I never expected a pandemic would arrive only two months after I published, making my book all the more important. Now climate change is exacerbating our already stressful times, and we must act to stem mental health issues before they become out of hand.  

I’m a seventh-generation West Virginian. My husband and I own the farm that’s been in my family since before the Civil War. My Appalachian roots are sunk deep, so when it comes to “writing what you know,” this is it! I was baptized in stories by my father who transformed my ancestors and my history into a living, breathing cast of characters I longed to meet. So, I began to write their stories in the guise of novels about made-up people. My seven novels (and two novellas) are love letters to the place that shaped me. 

I am a total sucker for people who are so complicated I can’t get a read on them. This love comes from growing up without any extended family. When I heard little bits of my parents’ pasts, it felt like the world got more interesting, and I wanted to dig in to know everything there was to know about what shaped them and, by proxy, what shaped me. I’m drawn to shady characters who don’t want to give up the goods, as they present a joyful challenge by withholding mystery, and those types of characters are the ones I love to read and write about.

I saw my first horse before I could walk or talk – a humble mare with flies in her eyes and a feed basket tied to her nose. I was drawn to her with a magnetic force, and that attraction to horses never diminished. Over the years I’ve presided over their birth, raised them, and conditioned them to various disciplines. When it exists, the bond between horse and human is undeniable. In my novels—through family disfunction, hardship, adventure, and mystery – I explore how this connection gives young people confidence and the courage to overcome any obstacles.