Another Sale

Today I sold a copy of IN THE SEVENTH DAY ( with an almost-apologetic warning as to its graphic nature; after all, it’s about a sexual predator and evil man ) to a lovely woman I met at a carnival.

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Out of the blue

Today, I sold a copy of IN THE SEVENTH DAY on Amazon.com. It’s been a while since I’ve had a sale of my novel, so I was excited to discover a reader had taken a chance on my book.

Every time someone reads my novel, I’m thrilled.

A review of IN THE SEVENTH DAY

4.0 out of 5 stars Pentecostal Preacher as Villain, April 24, 2013
This review is from: In the Seventh Day (Paperback)

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.

In the Seventh Day

Disturbing and disturbed

A dear friend of mine finishes IN THE SEVENTH DAY in a two-day rush read, re-reads the first chapters, and says to me: “I want to say it’s disturbing.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

She adds, “I’m giving it to two of my friends who read more than I do – ”

“You need to know what they think,” I suggest.

She nods, ever so slightly.

A telephone review…

A friend of mine just called me to tell me she read IN THE SEVENTH DAY in one sitting! She started it one evening and “couldn’t put it down.”

“It’s shocking,” she said.

“Did you like it?” I want to know.

“Oh yes! You’ve quite a story here. So much in it.”

Of course, you know I asked her to “write a review!”

Jane sells another paperback novel…

Jane's NovelNot a dime novel – no.

But, this morning at my bank, I wait to speak to a customer service representative to change the pin on my check-card ( which I use only for identification at the bank ). I think I am likely to need to wait, so I bring my brand-new copy of IN THE SEVENTH DAY into the lobby.

No need to wait, after all.

I meet with a delightful young woman who tells me she’s traveling next week two hours north of Madison to locate a wedding dress. I congratulate her.

We begin to speak of politics, of President Obama and of someone named Romney, of the economy and even of abortion. Turns out we are both opposed to abortion and both supportive of our President.

At the end, once my pin is chosen and confirmed, I mention – as I often do – that I am a novelist. She immediately says, “Oh, I’m looking for something new to read.”

I push my book toward her. I’ve conveniently placed it on her desk.

I say, “Perhaps you’d like to read mine.”

She says, “Yes, I think I would.”

After warning her of its graphic nature, I sell her my novel. And once again, I get to do that fun thing. I get to sign it to her.

No Male Bashing

As a quick aside, I love men. Recent posts are not meant to be strictly-speaking “male-bashing.” Rather they are short insights to moments in my own life that I realize shaped my character, Kevin Hillar – a man who is more than bored or misogynist; rather Kevin is evil, pure and simple.