Book Review: State of Terror by Hillary Rodham Clinton and Louise Penny

When I start a book, I don’t usually flip to read the Acknowledgments at the back. This time, I was curious about the authors. How does a political figure and a mystery writer, both well known in their fields, collaborate? Both with completely different styles of writing and at a distance. The answer: successfully. Clintons knowledge of the machinations of global politics and Penny’s skill with her mystery series created a fascinating ride through political intrigue. Truly a State of Terror. 

President Douglas Williams has chosen Ellen Adams for the position of Secretary of State. Previously founding and running a powerful media empire for decades, she and the President definitely do not see eye to eye. An odd appointment but it kept Ellen where the President thought he could control her. She had published unfavourably about him in the past. As the story progresses, her Foreign Service Officer, Anahita Dahir, received a strange text that was initially ignored as spam by one of her superiors, but she did keep a copy. Realizing its importance she pushes past security agents to get the message to her boss. Bus bombings occur in France, Germany and the U.K. that are related to this cryptic message. The terror is that there are more to come, but where and who is responsible! From Washington, D.C. to Oman to Pakistan to Moscow, Ellen Adams, Secretary of State meets with all of the heads of state. She confronts these powerful men with what little she knows and asks questions she wants answered. Seldom alone, she keeps security people close in all of these incredibly dangerous situations. She also keeps her close friend and counsellor, Betsy Jameson with her at all times, or on the other end of her video phone. There are strong female characters are throughout this story, not always on the side of the good guys.

It could be easy to translate this work of fiction into the recent political atmosphere in the U.S. That being said, this story goes much deeper than any political news reports of the day. In her travels, Ellen Adams not only confronts powerful men, but has to respect cultural and political protocols in each country, some related to women and their garb.

Throughout this story of intrigue, there are references to mythological stories like Gilgamesh, a Persian children’s story about the cat and the rat, and the poet John Donne (1572 - 1631). Having read several of Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache series, I could see her hand in the crafting of this book. Spoiler alert: Inspector Gamache and the village of Three Pines play roles in the latter part of this tale of political intrigue and murder.

“This is a work of  fiction but the story it tells is all too timely. 

It’s up to us to make sure its plot stays fictional.”

~ Hillary Rodham Clinton, State of Terror

Title: State of Terror

Author: Hillary Rodham Clinton and Louise Penny

Copyright: 2021 by Hillary Rodham Clinton and Three Pines Creations

Publisher: Simon & Schuster and St. Martin’s Press

Type: Fiction

Format: Novel

ISBN - 978-1-9821-7367-8

Canada on Fire

Fires

  Devastation

     Tragedies 

In the moment, it does not matter the cause of the horrendous fires burning through our forests, whether climate change or individual human fault. It only matters that homes and all their contents are destroyed or damaged beyond repair. In all of the devastation there is the bravery and determination of the firefighters in the midst of the fires; the resiliency of those evacuated from their homes and the kindness of friends, families and strangers who took the lost into their homes. Our health care system ~ physicians, nurses, all the workers ~ bending once more to these tragedies outside anyone’s immediate control. The special part of all of this is the hearts of humanity on the front lines beating back this violent threat and those offering welcome to those that have been devastated.

“When she awoke, the world was on fire.”

~ Scott Westerfeld, Uglies

Bursting!

 

Summer’s not over

Fall’s not begun

Foliage is fading

Except this plant…….

It’s just bursting!

“Half the interest of a garden is the constant exercise of the imagination.”

~ Mrs. C.W. Earle, Pot-pourri from a Surrey Garden, 1897

Chapter Two, Episode 149 - Post-Pandemic Musings - Situationally Theirs

Post-Pandemic Musings

“Do you remember the night you picked me up in Hartley” Dez had been staring out the dining room window. She turned away from her dreaming and started stuffing her paper work in her new brief case. “What night? You mean that time last week?” Dez shook her head, snapping the case shut and setting it on the floor. “No. Two years - no, three years ago. Anyway it was March of 2020.” Her sister put her book down, rested her head back on her favourite reading chair. “Oh, that night! That was a horrible night. Even so memories are pretty vague, except that the police called and I didn’t have anyone to call. I was so frightened.” 

“Why did you come? I mean, we hadn’t parted on the best of terms and it had been ten years. You could have stayed home in bed. Why did you come if no one was there to help you?” She sat across from Emelina on the sofa. Emelina sat up, made sure she had kept her place in the novel she was reading, and said. “I don’t know. I just knew that my sister was in trouble.” They had never talked about it. As a matter of fact, for the two weeks that were in isolation, they didn’t talk much in first few days, and when they did it was as little as possible. Dez looked down at her hands; her sister stared up at the ceiling. Without moving, Emelina said, “Good thing I knew how to drive and where the keys might be. That took me some time…….to find the keys that is. There just wasn’t anyone here.” Her sister stood and went to the book shelves, looked through the titles for a book she wasn’t even looking for. Pulling a random book from the shelves, she flipped through the pages. “The house was so empty! Before I had even put the phone down, I could feel the emptiness. Not a sound, nothing cooking, Brigitte wasn’t with me where she always had been, just empty. That frightened me.” Dez put the useless book back and turned to her sister. “You? Frightened? I suppose I really didn’t know you and what your life had been like. I just thought you were rich and happy, didn’t know that Michael had died and you had kind of lost it.” Em sat up. “That’s unkind, Dez. I suppose it’s true, though. If it hadn’t been for my staff, my people, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Worry spread across her sister’s face. “What do you mean? You wouldn’t……..” She let the sentence hang empty in the air. “I don’t like to think I would, but I was lost without Michael. He did everything for me, until I got mad and demanded that I get my own way. He was my life. Do you want to walk for a bit?” Dez laughed. “That was a quick change, sis. Sure, it’s a nice evening. Matt’s not expecting me for a couple of hours.”

~~~~~

The evening was still hot and muggy. A cool breeze was attempting to come in through the trees at the back of the walking track. “Maybe a walk wasn’t the best idea, but it is good to be outside.” Only the crunch of gravel under their feet and the ever present gulls accompanied them. Despite the ocean humidity on the island, it had been dry and hot for too long. Forest fires on the mainland and some up island all but ruined the island’s idyllic image. “When the officer explained the pandemic situation to me and the lock down the city had proclaimed I had no idea where I was going to go. What I was going to do. I’d lost my apartment and my job. It’s just lucky I still had your phone number in my cell phone. I wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of me begging for your help, but the officer called you anyway. I was still mad at you for something. Can’t remember what it was now.” They had reached a bench at the far end of the track. “Let’s sit for a minute, Dez. Did you bring your water?” She reached in her pocket and pulled out her small pastel pink water bottle. “No, but I’m ok. I had lots to drink earlier.” The sun was setting behind the trees, golden light filtering through. “Whatever your reasons, I’m glad you came to rescue me.” Emelina smiled at her sister. “So am I. I’m glad we’ve worked through all our baggage. It could have been a lonely couple of years. I don’t know what I would have done without you while my staff was isolating away. I still feel odd calling them ‘my staff’. It sounds rather stuffy.”

“Don’t worry about it, Em. They know you care about them and not just as their boss. Martha and Cook have both told me they worried about you being on your own. They didn’t know anything about me until we contacted them.”

~~~~~

The COVID 19 pandemic had turned everyone’s life upside down. Some people survived it and others did not. Sarah, the little ghost girl, had watched as everyone panicked and left the house. Seeing her mistress all alone, she had wanted to help but didn’t know how. She sat in the chair by her bed watching her. When the thing called a phone rang, she didn’t fade away. When Emelina spoke into it and said she would ‘be right there’, Sarah knew what she had to do. She put things out for her, guided her to the things called ‘keys’ and watched as she drove away. It wasn’t long before she was back bringing a strange angry looking woman with her. Sarah still watched to make sure the mistress of the house was all right. Now, here they both were. Everyone else had returned and gone about life as though nothing had changed. Even though from the outside everyone appeared normal again, Sarah could see hesitation when there were too many people around. Very sensitive, she knew when the world was too much for any of them. People went away again. It was getting better, but until it was, Sarah would keep close watch on them, especially her mistress.

“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; 

it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.”

~ Sydney J. Harris

Sorting the Specials

 

beginning

categorizing

organizing

flow

essays, poetry, musings 

middle

opinions, beliefs

rounded up

“killing my darlings”

rejigging

grammarizing

end?

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings even when it breaks 

your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”

~ Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Unsettled

How do I fill myself up 

when the air is calm, 

when there is no turmoil

in the sphere of my life

when I think I feel empty

the calm is unsettling,

unfamiliar, waiting,

opening a channel

to a void to be filled.....

....something that flows?

....colour, beauty, song?

What will I choose?

“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.”

~ Nelson Mandela

What Was It? ~ 2

What was special about today?! 

I could say: absolutely nothing.

I woke up in the morning.

it was grey, dark and calm

I ate breakfast

later, the sun shone

I walked to the book store

on the way, I met an old friend.

Returning home, I bought groceries.

I’ve eaten my supper

I’m writing this muse 

I could say: absolutely nothing,

but today was especially ordinary.

“You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute.”

~ Mitch Albom, For One more day