Th text of this review that is on Book Tube is below.
Reading Kathy Anderson’s novel, The New Town Librarian from NineStar Press reminded me of what I love about reading which seems crazy since I read all the time but it did, the sight, the smell of books on shelves, the fact that books help people connect with themselves and others and that not only do people write books but that there are people in books and people all around them.
I found myself rooting for the lead in The New Town Librarian. I wanted her to do well in her new job, get the girl (her favorite shirt reads “No One Knows I’m a Lesbian”), and most of all for her to be happy. Being happy is a goal that the protagonist mentions –she would be the first woman in her family history to be happy. She describes herself as having descended from a bunch of “sad sacks.”
The novel is set in a small town in New Jersey near the mysterious bogs of the Pine Barrens and is full of local lore including rumrunners and the Jersey Devil.
The question that is asked in various ways throughout the novel, is whether the new librarian who is so different in many ways – queer in both the old and new meanings and from a City where there are more people like her who are different – can make her home in this small town where she now lives and if there is enough there for her.
As I turned the pages and accompanied the protagonist on her journey, I found myself laughing and crying with the characters that now filled her life – in particular, her landlady (a force of nature), her husband (a man who conjures the word “good”) and a foster teen who shows up at the library and makes it his home.
The book held me to the end – and I was sorry to see it go – as I wondered if the universe would spin its magic and make our hero happy.
As I read Kathy Anderson’s novel, The New Town Librarian from NineStar Press (published in 2023), I was brought back in touch with a part of myself that I didn’t realize was missing.
This is Janet Mason with reviews for Book Tube and Spotify.
I was delighted to learn that a segment from my novel in progress is now being published by Adelaide Literary Magazine. The story is below.
TRAPPED AND IMAGING (?) A TALKING SEA TURTLE by Janet Mason
At first, I pretend that I’m not trapped. How could I be? Afterall, I named myself Dick Moby—after that thick book I found floating in the sea which I promptly absorbed into my massive brain. I gave myself the name to remind myself that I am fierce. A fierce whale like me does not get trapped. Besides, I am in this beautiful sea that I call home. I know there are many dangerous parts. But I have found a part that’s pristine and blue. Many live here because it is so clean and magnificent.
I am trapped at the surface which means I can breathe freely. If I were trapped below, I would have to think faster about how to release myself so I could swim up to the surface and take a breath. If I were lower, I wouldn’t have time to be in denial.
The sun has risen but it is still low in the sky. I was sleeping not that long ago and I’m still sleepy. I would yawn if I could, but I don’t even try. I feel a tightness around my head and jaw, although I don’t see anything. Something is binding my pectoral fins, too, and cutting into me. I dare not try to flip my tail. I can feel distinctly that something is covering it. Something is draped over me back there, but it’s on the top and the bottom. I am confined. It’s as if I were imprisoned. I feel defeated and frustrated.
I must still be asleep and am having a bad dream, I think. I decide to stay on the surface while I nap. There’s no point in moving so that I’m vertical, the voice in my head says. Besides, who made up the rules that say that Sperm Whales usually sleep that way anyway?
Maybe I’ll go to sleep if I’m not asleep already and wake up and discover that this has all been a bad dream.
Since I’m already comfortable, I tell myself that I’m not going to move and will take my nap at the surface.
I’m not with my pod, I remark to myself, so I can do anything I want.
Then I feel guilty since my unborn calf belongs to my pod. She is part of me, and I jeopardized her safety by going off on my own. It’s not all about me. I should have stayed with my pod where I would have been safer.
Maybe I should have listened to them, I think.
But who are they to try to tell me what to do? another voice in my head responds.
I’m going to go back to sleep – if I’m not asleep already—and then I’ll wake up and discover that this was all a bad dream, I conjecture, attempting to help myself relax.
I close my eyes but I’m not sleepy. Besides, it’s too bright up here directly under the sun. So, I open my eyes again. I decide to sleep with one eye open. That way—in case I’m not having a bad dream—I’ll be able to protect my unborn calf from any predators.
I relax for a few minutes and see something approaching in the distance. First, it’s a black speck just above the waves. As I continue to watch it becomes larger and larger until a dark eye looks back at me. The round eye is in the side of a head with a narrow and beaked mouth.
I didn’t think Sea Turtles could talk so I am surprised when this one started talking in a squeaky voice.
“I usually swim under the water, but when I came up for air, I spotted you and saw that you weren’t moving. So, I came over to see if you are alright.”
Plastic straws often kill Sea Turtles who come to the surface to breathe. They often inhale the straws which kill the Turtles.
“I’m fine I was just about to take a nap,” I click.
“Hmmm. I’ve never seen your kind napping on the surface before,” says the Turtle, treading water about ten feet from me.
“Well, now you’re seeing one,” I retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my clicks.
Even the Sea Turtle is reinforcing the mores of my pod.
I think to myself that the Sea Turtle might be part of my dream, but I don’t say this. The languid sea turtle is just the kind of creature that would be in a dream. I’ve seen them down below before. Their domed backs look like a fortress and their outstretched front limbs end in paws that are shaped like claws. The turtles, with their black and white tiled heads and other appendages look very relaxed, but their peaceful pace might be misleading. They never seem to stop. I understand that they often travel great distances.
“I see now that you’re not fine because you’re trapped in a nylon fishing net,” squeaks the Turtle.
I silently stare down the Turtle.
This really is a dreadful dream, I think.
“Just because you don’t want this to be happening, doesn’t mean it isn’t happening,” retorts the Turtle as if reading my mind.
I am tempted to close my eye to signal to the Turtle that I want to be alone, but I just am quiet. I give the Turtle a baleful look. Even if she is a figment of my imagination, I’d prefer her not to tell me that I have been captured.
The Sea Turtle gives me a venomous look back.
“I’m sorry you’re trapped,” she squeaks. “But I’m glad that it’s you this time instead of me. I’ve seen beings who are trapped before and it’s dreadful.”
“Thanks,” I retort, drily.
“No problem,” she responds casually, as if what she just said wasn’t hurtful.
I was irritated, but now I become more so. It seems like someone in my dream should be helpful, but she’s not making matters any better—in fact I feel worse.
“I was just headed to find something to eat,” she says.
Finally, I think, hoping she goes away.
I’m so tired that I almost say this out loud. Instead, I say:
“I don’t see anything around here.”
My tone is dismissive.
After all, it’s my dream, the voice in my head booms.
I really am angry.
I blink. When I open my eye again, the Turtle is still there.
“I’m in the mood for jellyfish,” she says whimsically. “Have you seen any good ones?”
I don’t want to give away the Jellyfish I was looking at. I liked that Jellyfish a lot better than I like this Turtle. And it was a while ago when I communed with the Jellyfish. But it’s a free ocean. I’m not in charge of who eats who.
Besides, why should I care?
Janet Mason is an award-winning creative writer, teacher, and occasional blogger for such places as The Huffington Post. Her book, Tea Leaves, a memoir of mothers and daughters, published by Bella Books in 2012, was chosen by the American Library Association for its 2013 Over the Rainbow List. Tea Leaves also received a Goldie Award. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and her novel THEY, a biblical tale of secret genders (Adelaide Books – New York and Lisbon) was published by Adelaide Books, also the publisher her novel The Unicorn, The Mystery late in 2020. Her novel Loving Artemis. an endearing tale of revolution, love and marriage was published by Thorned Heart Press in August of 2022. Her prose has appeared in Sinister Wisdom, The Brooklyn Review, and in Adelaide Literary Journal.
For more information on my novel THEY, a biblical tale of secret genders published by Adelaide Books click here.
To learn more about The Unicorn, The Mystery, click here:
Lately, I’ve been thinking about politeness. I was at a luncheon, when a woman sitting at my table, said she usually is a vegetarian but eats the local food when she travels out of politeness. She gave the example of drinking a bowel of bull’s blood which she was served in a Latin American country. The table mates (of which my partner and I were half the table) were busy agreeing that that was the most disgusting thing we ever heard of. (I’m sure there are more disgusting things — but at the time and while we were eating…)
At the time I said something positive about how much things have changed now and that there are vegan restaurants all over the globe. This is true, but you do have to look for them. At the time, when I was happily eating my vegan soup and salad, my partner was extolling the benefits of veganism at every opportunity. (Just try to stop her!)
I had a good time at the luncheon, but ever since my thoughts keep ruminating on the word “polite.”
I was definitely more polite before going vegan (to the other human animals, not to the animals that are eaten or to myself). Now after being vegan, going on three years now, I am more compassionate for all sentient beings, but less polite to other human beings in that I am not going along with the crowd in eating animal products.
This leads me to conclude that politeness can cause death.
For more information on my most recent novel Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love, and marriage, click here:
I was happy to read this review from Literary Titan and wanted to share it with you. The review captures the feeling that I had after I edited the novel. A fair amount of time had passed since I first wrote the novel and even more time had passed since I had grown up in this place where the novel is set. I realized that I had been more empowered than I thought at the time.
This is true for all of us: we are all stronger than we realize.
Loving Artemis, written by Janet Mason, is a tale of finding love that starts during a time when being LGBTQA+ was not accepted and spans to a time when it has become more accepted. Artemis is a young girl in love with a girl named Linda. She wants to do something to get her attention and thinks that riding a motorcycle will impress Linda. But, as she becomes closer to Linda, Linda isn’t sure what she wants.
Artemis and Linda separate, and Grace come into Artemis’ life. Grace isn’t sure if she could ever love anyone, but the more she gets to know Artemis, the more she realizes she can love someone. However, Artemis falls prey to a devious plan that gets her removed from school. Grace decides to move on with her life and finds the one person meant for her. She sees someone she thinks looks like Artemis at a Pride parade in 2015, and all her memories and feelings come flooding back.
Janet Mason does a beautiful job developing this coming-of-age story. Her character development is well done and allows the reader to easily imagine them in their mind. The character of Artemis is complex and relatable for many people. Her character had a bright future, but she got mixed up with the wrong crowd of people. Readers will want to see if things turn around for Artemis and will be drawn to keep reading to see where she ends up.
Linda is a lovely character filled with self-doubt and unsure of the future. She seemed like she was really trying to figure out what her life should be like. She wasn’t sure if she would go to college or end up like her mother. But she was able to figure out where she was meant to be in the end.
I was especially drawn to the character of Grace. I think her character was stronger than she even realized. Her personality jumps off the page and makes readers pay attention to what she has to say. She knew what she wanted in life and knew how to get it. I enjoyed reading about her character, and I felt like I understood why she made the decisions she did. I wish I was more like her when I was younger.
I loved this book. Janet Mason discussed issues that the LGBTQA+ community has endured for many decades. In addition, she brought up topics of historical significance so that we readers can look up these topics and learn more. I think these are important topics to discuss, and I am glad they were able to bring them up in their book.
Loving Artemis is a heartfelt coming-of-age Lesbian romance novel that follows the lives of women that were just coming into their own back before it was socially acceptable. I recommend this book to anyone with an interest in LGBTQA+ topics and ones that love fiction that includes some reality.
Pages: 269 | ASIN : B0B33TZ9DX
For more information on my most recent novel Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love, and marriage, click here:
Janet Mason, author 
