robert_bose's review
5.0
Reminded me of a crazy dream where you don't quite remember all the exact details when you wake up, but you remember enough to think 'What the hell was that...'
tee_tuhm's review
4.0
If I could revise Mr. Coleridge’s idea of “willing suspension of disbelief” and bring it into a modern era in light of reading Troy Blackford’s latest, “First There Wasn’t, Then There Was,” I’d rewrite it as such:
“Just stick with me on this one, OK? Promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“First There Wasn’t” is an accessible page-turner, along the lines of a Dan Brown or a Dean Koontz, but with much more beautiful turns of phrase and witty metaphor. For all the strange twists and turns as it takes, the story simply cannot happen fast enough for the reader eager to see what happens next. At the center is a seemingly deranged homeless man who converses with himself, wears a trenchcoat during the too-hot days of summer, and has pants dappled with paint splatter. A decoy storyline, on the outskirts of the narrative that really matters, are four frat-boy-esque corporates, united in cigarette breaks, who devise a plan to find out what the babbling man they see every day is actually saying.
And such is the way the plot works to give us this story within a story. The four young men, who do get some great character development in a short span of time, return to the forefront every now and then, to remind the reader why we made it to this storyline in the first place — if it hadn’t been for them, after all, you would have never heard this unbelievable story. Most times, though, you just want to keep hearing the homeless man’s story. You shout at your Kindle, “Ahh! I really don’t want to have to pause here!”
…Perhaps I’m the only person to plead aloud with her Kindle to not break the action.
Which is where my plea to bear with the story comes in. Because of the nature of this novella, which Blackford describes as “a metaphysical tale of action and adventure,” there are some bizarre happenings and ideas the reader must simply accept as fact in this reality. (I’ll spare you the “What the duck?” joke.) Some passages will need to be reread, mostly to assure oneself, “Yes, I actually did just read it like that,” and partly to try to parse what’s going on. But with the weird turn the story takes… good luck with that.
Blackford is right in claiming that “First There Wasn’t” is unlike any novella you’ve read. It is so worth the read. Just don’t think too hard. Stick with it on this one, OK?
Cross-posted at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00IPCU9SS
Visit us at www.guidingtype.com
“Just stick with me on this one, OK? Promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“First There Wasn’t” is an accessible page-turner, along the lines of a Dan Brown or a Dean Koontz, but with much more beautiful turns of phrase and witty metaphor. For all the strange twists and turns as it takes, the story simply cannot happen fast enough for the reader eager to see what happens next. At the center is a seemingly deranged homeless man who converses with himself, wears a trenchcoat during the too-hot days of summer, and has pants dappled with paint splatter. A decoy storyline, on the outskirts of the narrative that really matters, are four frat-boy-esque corporates, united in cigarette breaks, who devise a plan to find out what the babbling man they see every day is actually saying.
And such is the way the plot works to give us this story within a story. The four young men, who do get some great character development in a short span of time, return to the forefront every now and then, to remind the reader why we made it to this storyline in the first place — if it hadn’t been for them, after all, you would have never heard this unbelievable story. Most times, though, you just want to keep hearing the homeless man’s story. You shout at your Kindle, “Ahh! I really don’t want to have to pause here!”
…Perhaps I’m the only person to plead aloud with her Kindle to not break the action.
Which is where my plea to bear with the story comes in. Because of the nature of this novella, which Blackford describes as “a metaphysical tale of action and adventure,” there are some bizarre happenings and ideas the reader must simply accept as fact in this reality. (I’ll spare you the “What the duck?” joke.) Some passages will need to be reread, mostly to assure oneself, “Yes, I actually did just read it like that,” and partly to try to parse what’s going on. But with the weird turn the story takes… good luck with that.
Blackford is right in claiming that “First There Wasn’t” is unlike any novella you’ve read. It is so worth the read. Just don’t think too hard. Stick with it on this one, OK?
Cross-posted at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00IPCU9SS
Visit us at www.guidingtype.com
cynthiarodriguezjuarez's review
4.0
For the first time in a very, very long while, I cried after finishing a book. I’ve never been a soppy person with books and films, even if I love them so much. But it just happened. I welled up.
And who did this? None other than Troy Blackford, a brave little writer from the Twin Cities, self-published most of his life, and using the power of social media to advertise his novels and short stories on paper and Kindle.
His latest instalment is called First There Wasn’t, Then There Was, and I refuse to give you an in-depth analysis. Why? Because I want it to shock you senseless. I want you to dive into it, no spoilers in mind, and I want it to carry you away.
Four corporate pawns get together before work, at lunchtime and after work to have a smoke while leaning against a wall. These leaners occupy themselves on the lightest trivialities of life and entertainment, but lately they have been intrigued by an occasional wanderer. He comes and goes, hidden in a winter overcoat, talking to himself as he carries a bin bag on his shoulder. “What is he talking about?”, they wonder. So they borrow a dictaphone, sneak it into his pocket by lunchtime and then retrieve it by the end of the work shift. On the next day, they listen to it. And boy, does he talk.
All I will say is that there are passages that could be very triggering to those who one way or another have been involved in the War On Drugs – mostly as unlucky witnesses or victims who have no idea what is going on. You still won’t have an idea what is going on once you’ve gone past these hard bits, but it won’t feel like harsh reminders of a dark reality. It won’t feel like a reality at all.
And yet that finale feels like the realest punch in the stomach. The wildest call to action.
Yes, you can find the odd spelling and continuity mistake, and every memory is “the last thing I remember, then everything was a blur”, but what can you do when you’re a one-man band? Plus, what if the memories kept coming and going amidst the dirt, arriving unannounced and erasing all trace of themselves as they leave? What if everything else was, indeed, a blur?
Just like his début novella Strange Way Out could easily be adapted as an episode of Black Mirror, First There Wasn’t could be turned into a motion picture and directed by Zach Snyder, belonging to the same fairy tale action horror world of Sucker Punch. Without any dancing, of course.
But with lots of singing. Bird singing.
And who did this? None other than Troy Blackford, a brave little writer from the Twin Cities, self-published most of his life, and using the power of social media to advertise his novels and short stories on paper and Kindle.
His latest instalment is called First There Wasn’t, Then There Was, and I refuse to give you an in-depth analysis. Why? Because I want it to shock you senseless. I want you to dive into it, no spoilers in mind, and I want it to carry you away.
Four corporate pawns get together before work, at lunchtime and after work to have a smoke while leaning against a wall. These leaners occupy themselves on the lightest trivialities of life and entertainment, but lately they have been intrigued by an occasional wanderer. He comes and goes, hidden in a winter overcoat, talking to himself as he carries a bin bag on his shoulder. “What is he talking about?”, they wonder. So they borrow a dictaphone, sneak it into his pocket by lunchtime and then retrieve it by the end of the work shift. On the next day, they listen to it. And boy, does he talk.
All I will say is that there are passages that could be very triggering to those who one way or another have been involved in the War On Drugs – mostly as unlucky witnesses or victims who have no idea what is going on. You still won’t have an idea what is going on once you’ve gone past these hard bits, but it won’t feel like harsh reminders of a dark reality. It won’t feel like a reality at all.
And yet that finale feels like the realest punch in the stomach. The wildest call to action.
Yes, you can find the odd spelling and continuity mistake, and every memory is “the last thing I remember, then everything was a blur”, but what can you do when you’re a one-man band? Plus, what if the memories kept coming and going amidst the dirt, arriving unannounced and erasing all trace of themselves as they leave? What if everything else was, indeed, a blur?
Just like his début novella Strange Way Out could easily be adapted as an episode of Black Mirror, First There Wasn’t could be turned into a motion picture and directed by Zach Snyder, belonging to the same fairy tale action horror world of Sucker Punch. Without any dancing, of course.
But with lots of singing. Bird singing.
tapsandtomes's review
4.0
Review posted at https://ilayreading.wordpress.com/2014/11/20/first-there-wasnt-then-there-was/
jameskemp's review
4.0
This is a very strange tale, and definitely the sort of thing you'd expect to hear from someone who'd lost everything and was living on the streets.
The premise is that four young guys, all smokers, see an old man shambling around every day when they are out on their smoke breaks. The old man is always talking, never stops or addresses anyone directly and refuses money or any other attempts to engage. He never stands still long enough for them to hear what he says. One day one of the young smokers has an idea, they pop a digital dictaphone in his pocket and record what he says for a few hours.
When they listen back they find an unexpectedly coherent story, told consciously to the recorder but veering into the fantastical after a short while.
As you'd expect from the premise this is a story mostly in tell rather than show, and it is consciously narrated in the same way that you might tell someone a story. The narrator is very unreliable, and even goes as far as telling us that right at the beginning. That said it is consistent throughout and the level of detail works. Clearly a lot of inventive imagination has been applied, either that or the author has met some people who are clearly off their trolleys. While remaining lucid and matter of fact there is a whole load of pure fantasy tucked into the latter part of the story, which works to explain the character as we see him at the beginning.
One thing I would have liked to have had expanded was the effect on the four smokers, they have an expository epilogue on how hearing the story has affected them, but it could as easily have had a little more to show us that, and their change of heart in seizing the moment rather than waiting until they are older to do things. That's a minor point though, overall I really liked the story.
The premise is that four young guys, all smokers, see an old man shambling around every day when they are out on their smoke breaks. The old man is always talking, never stops or addresses anyone directly and refuses money or any other attempts to engage. He never stands still long enough for them to hear what he says. One day one of the young smokers has an idea, they pop a digital dictaphone in his pocket and record what he says for a few hours.
When they listen back they find an unexpectedly coherent story, told consciously to the recorder but veering into the fantastical after a short while.
As you'd expect from the premise this is a story mostly in tell rather than show, and it is consciously narrated in the same way that you might tell someone a story. The narrator is very unreliable, and even goes as far as telling us that right at the beginning. That said it is consistent throughout and the level of detail works. Clearly a lot of inventive imagination has been applied, either that or the author has met some people who are clearly off their trolleys. While remaining lucid and matter of fact there is a whole load of pure fantasy tucked into the latter part of the story, which works to explain the character as we see him at the beginning.
One thing I would have liked to have had expanded was the effect on the four smokers, they have an expository epilogue on how hearing the story has affected them, but it could as easily have had a little more to show us that, and their change of heart in seizing the moment rather than waiting until they are older to do things. That's a minor point though, overall I really liked the story.
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