Small as a Mustard Seed – Review

As an aspiring author I’ve been gorging on other authors’ work as a means to helping me write better. I generally get hold of whatever’s out there and figure out what I like and don’t like about it. Whether I like or dislike the subject is irrelevant – for me it’s the writing that matters most.

I first heard of Small as a Mustard Seed on Twitter while trying to expand my social networking presence. I saw a tweet by the author, Shelli Johnson, and decided to click on the link which took me to a sample of the book. Her opening lines got right into the story. Much more importantly, though, she hooked *me* into the story. I wasn’t just reading connected words that would reveal what happened next if I kept going – I was experiencing what was happening in the scene on multiple sensory levels.

From: http://shellijohnson.com/excerpts/small-as-a-mustard-seed/

“I ain’t afraid this time. I ain’t some kid don’t know shit from Shinola,” my father hollered as he stood in the driveway.

In the curve of his chest, pressed tight against the denim of his overalls, he clutched a black revolver. The other hand combed through the short dark hairs of his flattop. My father was six foot two, two hundred twenty pounds, and in the soft morning light, he cast a long shadow across the courtyard.

I squatted in the pasture, some hundred or so feet away, nudging the top of my head around one corner of the barn. I was ten that year, a slip of a girl, short for my age, brown-eyed and dark-haired. Storm clouds blackened the sky and a cool rain started to fall as I watched him crack open the gun’s chamber to check that it was loaded, smile ever so slightly, then snap it back closed.

Wow, I thought, what the hell is going on? Good writing pulls the reader to want to find out more, to read from page to page all the way to the end where, normally, the reader is rewarded with the climax. All too often, though, the reader has many “just get on with it” moments along the way. In Small as a Mustard Seed I felt rewarded on just about every page.

One of the things I like most about Small as a Mustard Seed is the author paints the scenes in a consistent manner, and by that I don’t mean they are all done with the same brush. I mean Shelli demonstrates absolute control over the story. She doesn’t just lob in explosions, puppies, and flowers in desperation and depend on the reader to conjure up whatever emotion prevails. Shelli artfully builds the scenes so that the reader experiences what she intends them to without it feeling like that’s what she’s doing. Nice!

Okay, so what about the characters then? The subject matter is hardly unique, but instead of using cardboard cutouts as place markers for the protagonist to jump over/react with/whatever, Shelli’s characters all have depth, even old Aunt Edna. What’s interesting is that she builds this depth without going out of her way to explain things. The depth unfolds naturally, enriching the reading experience.

That’s not to say the book is without flaws. I hit a few bumps and pot holes along the way. What I think is supposed to be a subtle plot idea becomes obvious early on thus the “aha” moment where it’s supposed to hit home doesn’t. There are also a few places where Shelli tried too hard to create a new color to paint a thought with and ended up clashing with what the reader was already forming. For example, “The wood rattled and sunlight blazed down, enveloping my sister like a halo.” I became distracted briefly, wondering why did she choose that word, “halo”? Maybe I just had trouble imagining a halo enveloping.

The paperback version is 208 pages which some might say is short for a novel. I’m on the fence on this one. On the one hand Shelli’s writing is tight meaning she doesn’t waste space, and I like that. I’ll take 200 pages of good writing over 300 pages of mediocrity any day. On the other, I do think Small as a Mustard Seed could have been a bit longer without making it bloated, particularly the latter part. Then again, I tend to go through *good* movie “cut scenes” wishing the director had left most of them in, too.

Fortunately for me the issues were minor. Even in hindsight I feel like I’ve had a solid, enjoyable and engaging read with Small as a Mustard Seed, and I look forward to Ms. Johnson’s next book.