Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Honor At Stake and New York City

I'm really running out of things to say about Honor at Stake aside from "please buy the book," but I don't want to come off as that desperate on the second day it's been released. The begging comes later. Maybe on day three. :)

I would have released this blog post much earlier -- around 10 hours earlier -- but I was busy marketing. All day.  Welcome to social media hell 101.  It almost makes me want to get into another Sad Puppy fight.

But for a moment, let's talk about where I grew up. 

Yes, I'm a New Yorker. I've mentioned it here and there, but I don't think I've ever discussed it in detail.

I live in a corner of they city that in no way resembles a city.  This isn't the wild and winding roads of suburbia, held under the tyranny of homeowners' associations and whatever whim they have this week.  We're under the general tyranny of the New York City government, but the current mayor is such a schlub, he can't even be an effective tyrant. The gun laws are a little insane (Arresting tourists who carry legal weaponry? Really?), but I await New York's version of the Supreme Court decisions Heller or Posner.  Then things will get odd.

Keep in mind, I like the city, not the government.  Also, I like the entire city, which includes five boroughs, including Queens, my little corner of odd.

And Queens, for the record, is not Fran Drescher, the same way that the Bronx is not Tony Danza. It sets my teeth on edge when someone is held up as an example as a New Yorker.

My New York is where everyone in a three block radius can identify each other on sight -- maybe not by name, but at least enough to say hello -- the cops are cautious and vigilant, and generally only give attitude when it's given to them.  (Ed Conlon's book, Blue Blood, read it, learn it, love it).  Everyone is quite content to let everyone else just go about their business and be left alone.

Yes, I'm certain that the majority of New York is libertarian in nature.

New York is NOT Manhattan. In fact, of all five boroughs, large chunks of Manhattan are not New York, but a whole bunch of elitist snobby little bastards who are far more interested in making sure everyone votes the right way than in anything else.

And then there's Greenpoint, Brooklyn.  It's a nice little area that has all the accommodations of a big city (and the traffic patterns), but really does feel like a small town.  And this is where Marco Catalano lives.

See, you had to know it would get there eventually.

Marco is sociable enough.  He's got his issues. To start with, he's smart.  We're talking full-on Sherlock smart. Maybe Mycroft smart. He is living in a world of goldfish. Brooklyn allows him to socialize when he wants to, hunt when he needs to, and be perfectly alone when he wants to get rid of people.

Marco's minions, two street gangs, are in a section off of Manhattan Avenue in Brooklyn, nearer the center. The area is not as nice looking, and I'd consider ripe for demolition, but any place put back would be seriously overpriced.

As for Amanda Colt, she's isolated by numerous factors. To start with, she's far too pretty.  She's also far too smart. This combination results in her being constantly attracting  men who sniff around her while being comparatively too stupid to hold a candle near her. She's not in a world of goldfish, but it does seem like all of the good ones are taken.  Thankfully, the Upper East Side of Manhattan is high priced enough to filter out most of the population, and allows her to move wherever she likes.

So, where do two people like this meet?  Well, in college, of course.

My Hudson University is a mythical place that has a campus in Manhattan. No, there are no campuses in Manhattan.  Even NYU is merely a series of buildings.  To go from one building to another is to empty out to the city streets. 

However, I went to St. John's University, in Queens, which used to be a golf course, so yes, they had a campus. I practically grew up there.

But it's on this mythological spread that our protagonists meet. They don't quite fall in love. It's their last chance to reach out and touch someone.  They don't really any anyone else. Just each other.

Welcome to New York. We're all connected. Usually by the mass transit system.

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