The incarnation of Jack

So, in like two seconds of my last post, I know the answer. Of course crime novels written by women sell less than ones written by men. Why? Because plenty of research shows women are dismissed by men and by women. Women are less serious, less talented, more inclined to sentimentality, more likely to be bitchy and irritable and manipulative.

A woman’s chances of being read by anyone — whether male or female — are smaller than the chances of a man being read.

So, GANI & SEAN is now written by me, and my name is Jack Winter.

Oh my…

The reader of IN THE SEVENTH DAY approaches me, eyes wide — the look tells me either he loves my novel or is horrified by it or maybe both!

Sure enough, he raves about it.

“How could that be?” he marvels. “How could they be that submissive? I kept waiting for — but then, you fooled me.”

We talk at length about the characters, about the town, about the abuse! We talk about the real umbrella authority in some evangelical, fundamentalist circles — Umbrella authority that calls for a woman to be entirely submissive to male authority. The look of horror on my reader’s face says it all.

I’ve done my job, and done it well.

An Invitation

An Invitation

Please consider purchasing my first novel, IN THE SEVENTH DAY which is not about Mormons! This novel is about religion gone haywire, however. The novel is also graphic — violent with sadism and evil displayed. Thanks in advance!

Review of IN THE SEVENTH DAY

 

By OleTboy on April 24, 2013

One does not hear too much about the anti-hero these days, but if that character has moved on to other climes and you miss him, take heart–the bastard is alive and well in a new pull-no-punches novel by Jane Cooper Easton, In the Seventh Day. Set in a small midwestern community that can only be described as “way off the beaten path” Cooper takes us directly into the mind of Kevin Hillar, a charismatic young preacher who has come to town to establish The Way, a new denomination that will follow the “umbrella authority” that his fundamentalist sect has generated from their retrograde understanding of the teachings of the Apostle Paul. To the liberal/secular mind the most generous description to be offered of this quirky theological world would be “violently anti-feminist.” And so it is in Ms. Easton’s novel.

One would have to search far and wide to discover in modern literature a darker, more perverse, self-serving, devious, holier-than-thou anti-hero than Rev. Kevin Hillar. Coupling astounding sexual charm with charismatic preaching he rapaciously and murderously gratifies his libido under the radar as, via pithy and precisely ten minute long sermons he recruits a devoted congregation soon eager to build a permanent “umbrella centric” church to replace the tobacco barn which was his first sanctuary.

Ms. Easton’s book is a chilling murder mystery procedural as well as a tough minded rumination on a particularly destructive form of Pentecostal Christianity in rural America. It also is a daunting cautionary tale about a deeply rooted societal wish to keep women as fully subjugated as suggested by the old Chauvinistic saw, “a woman should be kept barefoot, naked and in the kitchen.” The tale is gripping throughout and may require a strong stomach on the part of some readers. As literature it is a construct almost totally Brechtian in design. In terse, cooly objective prose it sharply defines the malaise, describes its malignant spread, but consciously withholds the expected–indeed, longed for–final scene where poetic justice is meted out.”