A New Review – Some Author Comparisons – Some Reasons to Read “Banyan Tree”

Author, blogger, book reviewer – Eileen Granfors – gives a wonderful new book review of my latest, The Reach of the Banyan Tree. She also dropped some author names whom she used as a comparison. I am, of course, humbled by her kind words. She also coaxed out of me a list of 10 books which have inspired me. It’s all on her blog. The opening section of her review is here, but do head on over and read it in its entirety. And if you haven’t checked out “Banyan Tree” yet, I’d be honored. Enjoy.

“Historical fiction is my favorite genre, and Mark Sasse has joined my list of must-read authors in the genre. I would compare his work to that of both James Clavell and John Shors.

Sasse’s plots are intricate, as they should be in historical fiction. The story takes us through several generations, with the concomitant sociological-political-historical details of the time. This alone might suffice to satisfy my curiosity about eras of world history. But Sasse, as an observant writer, also develops setting and character and plot twists.”

Read the entire review HERE!

Banyan Tree – New Excerpt

I have a promotion coming up for The Reach of the Banyan Tree soon (hint, hint,), so I thought I’d post a couple excerpts of the next few days. Thanks for checking them out.

In this excerpt, our protagonist, Chip, is in a difficult situation, not completely of his own doing. A mysterious stranger shows up and hands him a small back booklet – the diary:

The Diary

After Long had left, Chip sat perplexed on his cot, looking at the plain black cover of the booklet in his hand.

Secrets are a tricky matter. One has to ponder long and hard if revealing or discovering them is advantageous or not. Is life better with an unknown ‘sleeping dog,’ or does ultimate truth somehow prevail through the muck and mire, through the pain and suffering, through the years of wondering if it was worth it after all? What would the story of Charles Regal Carson end up meaning for his life? Jail, after all, is one of the most philosophical places on earth. Chip stared at the decrepit walls with his memory—replaying the scenes of his past life over and over again—wrestling his demons with the best that Nietzsche and Kierkegaard could have offered. What unknown plan, brought on by a small black book, could possibly benefit his life?

He knew not. But he would find out as soon as his finger could flip open the cover.

At the five-minute mark, he did it. On the top of the lightly lined paper read the following:

July 16, 1945. Flying into Tonkin.