Letters to Strabo is therefore both a love story and a coming-of-age tale, set in the late 1970s that takes the form of a fictional odyssey recorded with disarming honesty by my protagonist, an innocent young American writer called Finn Black. His adventures, both funny and evocative, follow closely the itinerary taken by Twain on his own périplus around the Mediterranean a century earlier and are structured around the seventeen chapters of Strabo’s great work. The amazing places Finn visits, the art and cultures he comes across and most importantly the people he meets are faithfully described by him for Eve, the Olana archivist, now his long-distance pen-pal. Eve’s replies, her Letters to Strabo as she calls them, however, not only reveal to Finn her own hopes and dreams but increasingly disturbing glimpses of a tragic past; a past that echoes that of Twain’s two daughters.
After they had eaten their ponies and dogs, and their babies cried out in the night from hunger, the Dakota went to war against the United States of America.
Steven Scaffardi is the author of the Sex, Love and Dating Disaster series. His first novel, The Drought, is the laugh-out-loud tale of one man's quest to overcome the throes of a sexual drought. After the stormy break-up with his girlfriend of three years, Dan Hilles is faced with the daunting task of throwing himself back into the life of a single man. With the help of his three best pals, Dan is desperate and determined to get his leg-over with hilarious consequences!
Tension. It’s that thing that all stories need to have to propel the reader forward. Without it, you have dullness. Drabness. Blahhhhh. But what most people don’t realize until they think about it is that there are two kinds of story tension, and they’re not all that similar. In fact, they’re polar opposites: dread and anticipation.
When watching TV with my wife, she likes to point out which actresses or singers she thinks are beautiful. And as she is Korean, she most often points out girls with large eyes and a nice complexion. I usually point to the ones that look quiet and have friendly faces. Nonetheless, my wife thinks I have horrible taste in women. I’m not sure if that’s ironic or not.