This book wowed, surprised, and empowered me so much. That is saying a lot from a memoir written by a news host and journalist (now author.) I became an instant fan of someone I was only peripherally aware of; Tracey Spicer has inspired me to research even more memoir’s written by women navigating their way in a male dominated society and finding their voice.
Is there a female figure that has inspired you through a memoir or autobiography?
It’s a hard knock life!
Genre: YA, Dystopia
No. of pages: 384
From Goodreads:
Regret was for people with nothing to defend, people who had no water.
Lynn knows every threat to her pond: drought, a snowless winter, coyotes, and, most importantly, people looking for a drink. She makes sure anyone who comes near the pond leaves thirsty, or doesn’t leave at all.
Confident in her own abilities, Lynn has no use for the world beyond the nearby fields and forest. Having a life means dedicating it to survival, and the constant work of gathering wood and water. Having a pond requires the fortitude to protect it, something Mother taught her well during their quiet hours on the rooftop, rifles in hand.
But wisps of smoke on the horizon mean one thing: strangers. The mysterious footprints by the pond, nighttime threats, and gunshots make it all too clear Lynn has exactly what they want, and they won’t stop until they get it….
There is certainly always something going on in this novel. A fight for survival, deception, overcoming a psychological need to simply give up. I sped through ‘In a Handful of Dust’ in a day. There was no putting it down.
It’s a bleak world protagonists Lynn and Lucy live in. And their trek across America to escape a Polio outbreak and hopefully find the fabled Promised Land in California that has a desalination plant. Water. And plenty of it. An easier life. It was a great – I want to say road trip – in a dystopian future.
Lynn, the protagonist from the first book in this duology ‘Not a Drop to Drink’ is now an older woman and Lucy her adopted charge, now in her late teens, have been weathered by a life of having to shoot first and ask questions later. Especially Lynn, who’s had to fight, guard, and sniper her way through every minute of every day. Rewarded by drops of water. Life gets a little bit easier for the pair before the Polio outbreak, but Lynn never loses her edge. And that hardness and survival-mentality is what carries the two to the opposite coast of America, California from Ohio.
Lucy slowly becomes a different, more compassionate and self-sufficient woman. Finds her place in the world. Her own wants and needs. This is really her story.
The plot itself if predictable. The girls have a destination in mind and will do anything to get there. It’s the journey that throws the surprise and shapes them into stronger women. I got a few curve balls thrown at me that I did not see coming, but on the whole I don’t think I was overly shocked with the twists and turns. The tone of this novel prepares you for striking news… which is a shame because the shock value would have been magnificent. *me holding the book, mouth wide open*
I wasn’t completely sold on the ending, though it is left open for further books in the series; but McGinnis has stated on her website that she has moved on from this collection for now.
I liked McGinnis’ writing style, it’s poetic and stark at the same time. Similar to the observations and descriptions of the landscape. It wasn’t too dumbed down either, which was refreshing for a YA novel.
I’m glad I got to continue with Lynn’s story and would recommend this to those who love a good survival story. Even though it is classified dystopian, it differs from the usual in this genre. We get notes of feminism that sit well with me.
I know Stephenie Meyer’s Fickle Fish Films optioned the debut ‘Not a Drop to Drink’ for a film back in 2014, but we’ve heard no updates since then. I’d be interested to see what treatment they give the film, and what star they could attract to play Lynn.
Overall feeling: I feel exhausted… in a good way.
© Casey Carlisle 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Casey Carlisle with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
A dystopian school of hard knocks..
Genre: YA, Dystopia
No. of pages: 309
From Goodreads:
Regret was for people with nothing to defend, people who had no water.
Lynn knows every threat to her pond: drought, a snowless winter, coyotes, and, most importantly, people looking for a drink. She makes sure anyone who comes near the pond leaves thirsty, or doesn’t leave at all.
Confident in her own abilities, Lynn has no use for the world beyond the nearby fields and forest. Having a life means dedicating it to survival, and the constant work of gathering wood and water. Having a pond requires the fortitude to protect it, something Mother taught her well during their quiet hours on the rooftop, rifles in hand.
But wisps of smoke on the horizon mean one thing: strangers. The mysterious footprints by the pond, nighttime threats, and gunshots make it all too clear Lynn has exactly what they want, and they won’t stop until they get it….
From the blurb and some of the reviews I’d read, I expected ‘Not a Drop to Drink’ to be much more gruesome. There is plenty of tragedy and realistic hard living, but I felt it missed having a darker, grittier tone which would have added credence to the story. But this novel is a humdinger, and having grown up in the Centralian Desert, and now residing on a remote mountain top where I have to source my own water from rainfall, many of the elements of this novel rang true. Thank goodness I don’t have to fight off poachers and wildlife! A frank depiction of what could be very possible in the near future.
Our protagonist Lynn reminds me of Kantiss in the sense that she’s brought up in a difficult world of paranoia and survival, where hard choices are commonplace – and because of that she is almost emotionless and calculating in her outlook towards fellow man. A silent huntress. A warrior. And while I enjoyed reading this story and appreciated her hard-knocks attitude, there was something missing about her character to make me feel like she was a fully realised person.
Mother was too hard and cold for me to truly appreciate as a person, maybe she was suffering a mental illness? But her Eagle Scout ways were invaluable in the girls’ survival against man and nature. But was it all that necessary?
Eli, placed as Lynn’s love interest, while cute, hunky, and well-mannered, I didn’t really buy this paring. Maybe it was the writing style, I felt a little disconnected with ‘Not a Drop to Drink’ it could have really dragged out all the feels – the desperation, the isolation, and the need for human connection. But those were left dry… and so too was this novel (pun intended).
Eli’s sister, Lucy was the much needed grounding and softness that ‘Not a Drop to Drink’ lacked and was a genius inclusion. I would have liked to read more about her journey, have her involved more in the main plot and her own story arc. Maybe we’ll see in the sequel ‘In a Handful of Dust.’
Neighbour Stebbs was an interesting character. The wise voice of reason, only I felt he came in much too late in the timeline. I almost felt like his emergence was too convenient and that he should of had a stronger presence in Lynn’s life prior to where the novel started.
It is a great story and I found it highly entertaining with realism and stark landscapes. However, the plot is rather simplistic. The inclusion of a few arcs, maybe a few unexpected twists, and the protagonist failing more would’ve had me more engaged. But only if I’m being picky. Otherwise this is a great, if not bleak, adventure.
‘Not a Drop to Drink’ has easy language and a nice touch with poetry interspersed throughout the narrative to juxtapose some beauty in the confronting situations the cast faces.
I read it in a day, though I felt it dehumanised death, murder, and survival a bit, but a gem of a dystopian that is not hard to imagine as a realistic future. This has also been optioned by Stephenie Meyer’s production company Fickle Fish to get the big screen treatment. So I’m keen to see how this develops.
Recommended for lovers of the genre, or those wanting some light escapism, however not necessarily a book that will wow.
Overall feeling: I think I need to sit down…
© Casey Carlisle 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Casey Carlisle with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
I often wonder if Mum felt the way I did when Grandma died. I mean, I was there, and she was obviously devastated, but Mum picked herself up and soldiered on so much better than I have in losing a Mum. Maybe because we knew it was coming. Grandma was old and infirm. We’d seen her decline. And she had lived a full, wonderful and interesting life.
I lost Mum while she was still in the middle of things. She had so many unfinished plans. Her death was quick, sudden and final. One breath we were laughing, making plans for the future, complaining about our day. And the next. Gone.
It’s been years, and still, every day I miss her. Most of the time I can’t hold back the emotion and a few tears escape. These feelings have me watching other people who have lost someone close to them. They all seem to have it so much more together than I do. Better at being an adult.
Maybe I feel things more deeply than your average person? I hope that’s it.
Filling my life with purpose and love has helped dull the sting of grief. I cherish my friends, and tell them so. I hug my family. I spoil my dog. Each day I set myself little goals to achieve. I live life. Fill it with fun positive experiences. And it helps.
There are still those moments when something great happens and I want to share it with Mum. We always used to phone each other to share our news. We lived in different states, so picking up the phone was how we kept in touch. At least twice a week. Sometimes twice a day.
But now I whisper it in my mind and send it to her on the breeze. I like to imagine her close to me. Watching my life and appreciating the one-way conversations. The updates. The silent tributes.
Grief and loss is a funny thing. A personal thing. I’m actually horrified for those with large families now. It was just me, Mum, Dad and my brother. Dad left in my teens with my brother, so Mum was really all I had. When she passed, half my life went with her. I can’t imagine living through that experience again and again. Extended families and many siblings – all that potential for love and loss. So beautifully tragic.
I can’t think like that. But I do at times. It’s always there in the back of my mind. It’s hard to let people get close to you when you’re scared of the feelings that will come flooding in when they’re gone. I guess it’s like becoming gun-shy for relationships when you’ve suffered through an ugly breakup. You want to protect your heart, but it can’t work properly if you don’t take a risk.
Life is marvelous, ugly, euphoric, and crippling. I savour every day. Breathe in every minute and am thankful for every second. Every person I meet. Life is a strange beast upon which I ride to an unknown destination. I just hope the ride is long. The scenery vast and beautiful. Filled with more love and less grief.
If anything, apart from the experience of life, it has given me tools and character motivations for my writing. I remember reading about a character who had lost someone close to them, and I don’t think I fully grasped the gravity of the words until I had my own experience. All those feelings of hopelessness, being alone, feeling lost, crushed by grief… they are all hard and dark but help juxtapose the love, light and positive experiences we also have. It has supplied me with so much more context and colour for writing.
I may have lost a little innocence, but I have gained so much more depth.
So, while I will go on missing my Mum every day, I am greatful for her part in turning me into the person I am today, for showing me love, and being my inspiration in life and writing.
© Casey Carlisle 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Casey Carlisle with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Casey Carlisle 