The Heart Does Not Grow Back

by Fred Venturini

EVERY SUPERHERO NEEDS TO START SOMEWHERE...

Dale Sampson is used to being a nonperson at his small-town Midwestern high school, picking up the scraps of his charismatic lothario of a best friend, Mack. He comforts himself with the certainty that his stellar academic record and brains will bring him the adulation that has evaded him in high school. But when an unthinkable catastrophe tears away the one girl he ever had a chance with, his life takes a bizarre turn as he discovers an inexplicable power: He can regenerate his organs and limbs.

When a chance encounter brings him face to face with a girl from his past, he decides that he must use his gift to save her from a violent husband and dismal future. His quest takes him to the glitz and greed of Hollywood, and into the crosshairs of shadowy forces bent on using and abusing his gift. Can Dale use his power to redeem himself and those he loves, or will the one thing that finally makes him special be his demise? The Heart Does Not Grow Back is a darkly comic, starkly original take on the superhero tale, introducing an exceptional new literary voice in Fred Venturini.

Genres: Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Horror, Novels, Contemporary, Adult

312 pages, Paperback

First published January 11, 2011

About the author

Fred Venturini has eleven scars from eleven separate incidents, the most interesting of which is the time he was set on fire. For the others, just ask. His short fiction has been featured in the Booked. Anthology, Noir at the Bar 2, and Chuck Palahniuk's BURNT TONGUES anthology. He is the acclaimed author of THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK and the forthcoming THE ESCAPE OF LIGHT (Turner, 2019). On the basketball court, he is a three-point specialist and defensive liability. He lives in Southern Illinois with his wife and daughter.

Reviews

[Fred Venturini]

I know the author so I thought it was worth a look. Cover art is fantastic but I just get the strange feeling I've read this thing a hundred times.

[mark monday · Rating 2 out of 5]

a pox on me! this is the second exercise in miserablism that I've read this year about young men flailing about in a world that doesn't care about them and featuring young women who are portrayed as enigmatic, whorish victims of life. well, I suppose everyone's a victim of life in these books.

I like to compare & contrast and so it was inevitable for me to put Skippy Dies next to this much shorter, less ambitious, yet somewhat more enjoyable novel. despite this book being a depressing take on the Superhero Origin Story and Skippy basically being an unfunny Catch-22 in a boys' private school, the commonalities are real. both start strong: Skippy Dies' sardonic beginning vividly sketches a panorama of lives; Heart Does Not Grow Back portrays its small town world with a granular and sympathetic realism that was striking. both star a depressed, whinging lead (the hero in this one, the teacher in Skippy): static so-called protagonists who are nearly intolerable to spend time with, so entranced are they by their navel-gazing and boring obsessions. both include an eye-rolling ending where the author displays their miserablist version of heroism. both have certain issues when it comes to understanding women, to say the least. and both centralize a dynamic, layered character who I wished the novel was actually about (the title character in Skippy and in this book, Mack, the lead's brash alpha-asshole of a best friend). I guess this book gets a star more than Skippy because at least Mack doesn't die? I dunno. But I didn't end this one feeling angry, just annoyed.

[Mogsy · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 of 5 stars at The BiblioSanctum http://bibliosanctum.com/2014/11/24/t...

The Heart Does Not Grow Back was an unexpected surprise. I saw some readers designate it as Science Fiction, others who describe it as Horror, and even a few who tagged it as a superhero novel. As it often is in these cases, every single one of these categorizations are accurate, but none of them tell the whole story. It’s definitely a tough book to describe, but I’m also really glad I went into it with very little information, because I loved how everything unfolded before me and threw me for a loop at every turn.

The introduction was probably the most powerful but also most brutal part of the book. When I was reading the first few chapters, my mind went to Stephen King – not really in terms of the storytelling or writing style, but in the whole vibe of a boyhood camaraderie that binds together two young friends, and how even in small sleepy towns you will find evil people with darkness in their hearts. Once upon a time, a geek and a jock met each other on the playground and became the best of friends. But months before their high school graduation, a violent and unthinkable tragedy destroys Mack Tucker’s chances of ever becoming a professional baseball player, and Dale Sampson loses the love of his life but also discovers he possesses the ability to regenerate.

Dale’s story takes a turn for the grim and bleak, full of regrets and what-could-have-beens. Despite winning the evolutionary lottery with his amazing regeneration powers, he falls into a downward spiral of depression and apathy, until one day a girl from his past walks back into his life and gives it some meaning again.

So, what can a guy with the miraculous ability to heal and regenerate himself do in order to turn his life around, become the hero and save the girl? Dale gets together with his old friend Mack and the two come up with a plan that ends up being as insane as it is darkly hilarious. Two words: Reality TV. I wouldn’t have seen that coming in a million years.

As outlandish as the premise sounds, Fred Venturini makes it all work wonderfully, making this an intensely engaging read. I was always left wondering where the story will go next, even though the characters themselves remain quite static and predictable when it comes to personality. Mack is a crude womanizing meathead, and Dale is a sad one-man pity party who hits rock bottom and stays there for much of the book. None of the characters are particularly likeable and there was no one in this book whose neck I didn’t want to wring at least once, though there is no doubt that all of this is by design. The author clearly meant for his narrator to be deeply flawed and broken with a defeatist and almost transgressive attitude towards life and love – a result from the traumatic events of his past. Dale is standoffish and has deep-seated issues when it comes to women, but at least we are in the position to understand why.

The ending is what really pulls it all together, resolving the conflicts and all the relationships while offering a glimmer of hope and a reason to be optimistic. Still, I wouldn’t go as far as to call this a happy book. I enjoy stories where characters are put in difficult situations; part of the fun is watching them overcome those obstacles to emerge victorious, after all. But Venturini is an author who seriously puts his characters through the wringer. I mean that as a compliment more than anything, given the way Dale to pushed to the very edge thus making his eventual turnaround all the more satisfying and meaningful. Nevertheless, I still felt the need for a cheerier book after this.

Was it worth the read, though? Heck, was it ever. I was surprised when I looked up the author and saw that The Heart Does Not Grow Back was his first novel (though it was first published a few years ago under a different title, The Samaritan) because of how strong and polished the writing was. I’ll be keeping an eye out for any other books by him in the future.

[Dawn · Rating 2 out of 5]

The following is a copy of the review I left at amazon. The more I think about this book, the more I dislike it, the more I'm pretty bummed that I spent actual money on this, and the more I realize that I need to do that thing where I only spend money on new authors who are not white men. The women in this book are so shittily written, so poorly conceived, cliched and infuriating. This book does not give a shit about women who aren't fuckable, dying, or both.

*********

I have no idea why Amazon recommended this book to me. I promised myself I would read the entire book before reviewing, and since I like to start on a positive note, this was a very quick read. The idea at the center of the novel, a dudebro who can regenerate body parts and organs like a salamander, seems intriguing, but this book never lives up to its potential.

It's straight up bro-lit, and should appeal to young men between the ages of 16 and 20 who have never actually *talked* to a girl not related to them, think Tucker Max is totally awesome (omg, Mack Tucker! I get it! Whoo! ), are too squeamish for JJ Ballard, and find the philosophical depth of John Dies in the End to be a bit too heady.

I kept waiting for a well-written woman to show up, or ONE who wasn't a whore or a damsel in distress, but that's not really the dealbreaker here. I kept waiting for the gore to be actually gory (not really), or for the regeneration to provide a device for a deep and satisfying exploration of Man Pain, etc., but no. And the final episode of the reality show... that cringe-worthy monologue bit... was embarrassing to read, and that was the strongest emotion I experienced while reading this book.

[Kari · Rating 1 out of 5]

I know I am going to be in the minority when I say I did not care for this book. It wasn't any where close to what I was expecting. Initially, the book plodded along through the developing relationship between Dale and Mack. Their friendship was odd as they were so opposite that it was hard to imagine them being friends in the first place. But, hey, stranger things have happened, right? Then the story got kind of weird and disturbing and I just couldn't read anymore. Not a lot shocks me, but the "tragedy" scene was a bit over the top for me. I did read a little bit more, but once Dale started looking for a black market organ dealers, I was done.

As I said, this book really wasn't for me. But lots of other people seemed to like it, So, give it a try and see for yourself.

[Liviania · Rating 4 out of 5]

(A version was previously published as THE SAMARITAN by Blank Slate Press.)

Dale Sampson, through a fortuitous game of Blind Man's Bluff becomes Mack Tucker's best friend. Before that, Dale was a lonely, ignored boy. But together, he and Mack have big dreams. That is, until a horrific tragedy at the end of their junior year. A tragedy that leads to Dale discovering that he can regenerate.

THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK begins much like a YA novel, full of young love and sports triumph. It becomes something much more bleak, although it always retains a dark humor and eventually finds hope. Dale is a broken, pitiable man, and I often just wanted for him to get a good therapist. At the same time, even at his lowest point, he retained the ability to think and plan that made him once so promising.

Over the course of its pages, THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK takes on ethics, reality television, and domestic abuse. But its heart is always the characters, who are all dealing with trauma in their own ways.

I often disliked Dale. In fact, none of the characters are written to be particularly likeable. They're deeply flawed people. As Dale is the protagonist, we get to know him in particular. He's obsessive about women, has a bit of a savior complex, and is pretty confrontational. It works because author Fred Venturini understands that these things are flaws and that Dale needs to work on them.

THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK is an intense reading experience. As Dale cuts away more and more of himself, I feared the promise of the title coming true. From coming-of-age tale, to reality TV satire and slice-of-life superhero, to nailbiter, this is a memorable book.

[The Sunday Book Review · Rating 5 out of 5]

Awesome. First word that comes to mind when I think about this book. The first 7 chapters were very real. And then the twist comes in Chapter 8. And you can't help but hold on for the ride. Here is a man who never was much growing up, and now he has learned that his body parts grow back at an astonishing rate. Fingers, ears, even tonsils. Now he feels invincible, will he finally be able to make a change in lives of people around him?

Fred Venturini did an amazing job grabbing the reader right from the beginning. Certainly not for the squeamish or the faint at heart, this book deals with everything from friendship to loss to loneliness. The writing is tight and the style is fluid. There is a sense of some Chuck Palahniuk which I enjoy reading. If you are into reading about what goes on in people's minds, this is the book for you.

Dale, while somewhat of a "loser" all this life, is extremely likable and relatable. Even with people around there are times when you can't help but feel lonely. As he keeps getting ignored, you feel for him. I ended up feeling happy when he was finally getting some recognition (granted for his limb re-growth abilities) and then felt sadness when it all came to an end. Connecting with the main character is a difficult gift to give your readers. Fred Venturini has mastered this skill.

[Benni · Rating 5 out of 5]

Win a copy of this book here: http://bennitheblog.com/bookbiters/th...

I first read The Samaritan, the previously published version of The Heart Does Not Grow Back, in 2011. I loved it (see http://www.rantingdragon.com/the-sama...).

You know that feeling you get when you watch an incredibly awesome movie for the first time? You watch that same movie over and over, but you’re never able to replicate that original rush in full force. You wish that you could forget the movie, just so you can experience the First Time again.

Well, I experienced something like the First Time again with The Heart Does Not Grow Back. As much as I loved The Samaritan, due to the number of books I’ve read since 2011 (and my terrible memory in general), I forgot much of the plot. In addition, The Heart Does Not Grow Back had been rewritten in parts and expanded upon. I only remembered details from The Samaritan as I was reading The Heart Does Not Grow Back, so I felt every punch like the first time. It was exhilarating.

Now, the book itself.

Dale Sampson grew up being a nobody. But one day in sixth grade, popular jock Mack decides he’ll be Dale’s best friend, and so best friends they become. That doesn’t change Dale’s personality, and though he’s granted an air of mystique by being Mack’s friend, picking up girls doesn’t get any easier for him: (Please note that all quotes are from an ARC and are subject to change. But they are too good not to be included here.)

“You never miss,” I said.

“I only batted .650 last year, so—”

“No, with girls. You’ve always got your pick of the litter. You never miss.”

He smiled and picked up my bat. “You never swing.”

When Mack rescues Dale from isolation and obscurity, if not awkwardness, their bond is one that should last forever. Before they can graduate from high school, however, tragedy strikes. And through that tragedy, Dale discovers that his body parts regenerate rather quickly:

Three days later, my fingers were back, my ear was whole, and the only reminder of those cuts that remained was a new set of white lines tracing the border between who I am and who I used to be.

Things can never be the same again, and Dale spirals into depression.

Call suicide what you want, but a cowardly act, it is not. If you’re not blowing your brains out, you’re dying by neglect. You’re ignoring that suspicious mole, or smoking, or cultivating that roll of belly fat, or eating too much sodium, or fucking without a condom, or snorting coke, or driving without a seat belt.

Simply put, some deaths are acceptable because everyone loves salt, but most can’t stand the taste of a gun barrel.

When Dale runs into a girl from the past, he becomes motivated enough to pull himself out of his emotional ditch. He decides to pitch a reality show where he donates his body parts and organs to those who need them; Hollywood bites and bites hard.

What starts out as a decent idea grows dangerous when Dale pushes his body to its limits. Nor is self-redemption as easy a task as it would seem, not even for the world’s most famous organ donor.

Melancholy has never been more poetic as it is in The Heart Does Not Grow Back. Dale literally gives himself away to have a chance to feel love—not just romantic love, but self-love. This desperation takes on such a voracious appetite that it’s hard for readers’ hearts not to go out to this guy. As depressing as this may sound, it is precisely Dale’s renewed lust for life that sustains hope and inspires us to root for him. He admits his own selfish motives to the reader, and that honesty, even though it reveals thoughts that are less than altruistic, makes Dale more relatable and sympathetic.

After I finished The Heart Does Not Grow Back, I went back and reread portions of The Samaritan. In 2011, I had thought The Samaritan to be near perfect. With The Heart Does Not Grow Back, Mr. Venturini has fleshed out that original premise and has delivered a tale that packs even more of an emotional impact.

Here’s to hoping that with this new Picador version, The Heart Does Not Grow Back, finally gets the attention this story deserves.

I received a review copy of the book courtesy of Picador and TLC Book Tours.

I originally read The Samaritan in Feb. 2011; that review is located at http://www.rantingdragon.com/the-sama...

Win a copy of this book here: http://bennitheblog.com/bookbiters/th...

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Probably 4.5/5 stars

Review Posted from Tenacious Reader: http://www.tenaciousreader.com/2014/1...

I couldn’t put this book down. I’ll start with that. And when I went to set up my review for it, and I had to assign it a genre, I really didn’t know what to put it as. The closest thing I can compare it to genre-wise is Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes. That is science fiction, but the story is not really so much about the science fiction aspect of it, rather the science-fiction element is more of what sets up the story, puts the characters in the situations. I’m sure there are other examples as well, but this one sprang to mind. The Heart Does Not Grow Back is very similar in that respect. Human regeneration. Is that science fiction? I guess it is as it certainly isn’t factual science. And yes, there would not be a story without that element. But the story is more about the people, about relationships, hardships, healing and surviving. It’s about how even if you can regenerate your internal organs, there is more that needs to heal to really feel whole.

In 6th grade Dale Sampson is a quiet outsider. He spends his time alone, sitting by himself at recess. But a turn of events makes him unlikely best friends with Mack Tucker, the boy every boy wants to be and the boy every girl wants to date. They both have the ability to see each other for who they really are and not who they are defined to be by their reputations. Dale has found a true friend in Mack, but even as years go by, he still seems isolated from the rest of his peers.

There are a couple of incidents where there is some evidence of Dale’s ability to heal, but not until he is faced with real tragedy is the true extent of his ability really understood. There are so many ways a story could go with a character that can regenerate body parts. The author could turn him into some sort of famed stunt man who takes real bullets to get more realistic footage, they could make him a daring superhero who runs into fires to save kittens and babies and old people. Most of the things I can think of would take it to a more action-movie style. This is not that. I don’t want to say too much about the path it does take, but I loved it. It does examine a bit how it ‘should’ be used, is there some sort of responsibility on his part to do more because of his ‘gift’?

This book is definitely dark. I really liked Dale, he has a wonderful sense of dark and sarcastic humor, but have to admit he is not a happy protagonist, he is awkward and uncomfortable. He is also borderline obsessive about relationships that never even existed. But that’s the thing. This book really highlights that healing is about so much more than just tissue repair. Dale is damaged and broken despite being a ‘superhero’. Highly recommend it for those who enjoy dark, character driven stories.

[Ranting Dragon · Rating 5 out of 5]

http://www.rantingdragon.com/the-sama...

The Samaritan begins when Dale Sampson is in the sixth grade. Girls don’t talk to him. And when the school baseball star, Mack, decides to befriend Dale, Dale earns an air of mystique—but he remains luckless when it comes to the opposite sex. Later in high school, when Dale is about to graduate, when it seems he may finally win the girl of his dreams, those dreams are shattered.

So when he discovers that he can regenerate his body parts, he decides that if he can’t improve his own life, he’ll put his regenerative powers to save others—starting with the twin sister of his dream girl, the sister who married an abusive husband.

A strong, honest voice
The Samaritan is written from the first-person perspective, and Dale lays out his life and feelings with such raw and brutal honesty that even if you don’t like him, you understand him, you trust him, you sympathize with him. So when Dale thinks the unthinkable, instead of believing him a villain, you instead see what dark thoughts can result from the hope of love after a long lack of human contact. And you forgive him because sometimes even your own mind can betray you. Forgiveness is more than Dale can grant himself, however, so he decides to seek redemption.

A difficult journey
The Samaritan captures small town life—the friendships that grow from self-congratulation that end up holding together because of self-pity, the dreams that turn into hopelessness, the great beyond revealing itself as nothing more than another trapped existence. Then there’s life, of course, that pitcher who won’t stop throwing curve balls. As much as Dale knows he’s never going to be normal, he keeps striving to be special on his own terms. But life has other plans.

A story about human connections
For a loner like Dale, his supernatural power is the only thread connecting him to others. As he exploits this connection, he manages to distance himself even further. His journey, which consists of effort after effort to claw his way back from the dark pit of guilt and despair, is a fascinating and powerful one, but it is not for the faint of heart—I must warn readers that this book does contain a violent rape scene.

Why should you read this book?
This is an extremely strong debut, and with Venturini’s insights into human nature and smart writing style, it’s easy to see why the budding Blank Slate Press chose Venturini as one of its flagship authors. Who knows how many books it will take for Venturini to garner the attention he deserves, but why not say you knew him when? Pick up a copy of The Samaritan and find out for yourself.

Benni received a review copy courtesy of Blank Slate Press and TLC Book Tours.

[Chris · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book got a lot of four and five star reviews, so maybe I missed the point, but I'm going to be quite the outlier here. Sorry, I didn't like it at all.

Our main character, Dale, is a pathetic, self-pitying, self-absorbed, wishy-washy idiot. If he only started out that way and then figured things out that would be one thing, but it just never happens. He never really learns anything significant, even to the last pages. Why do I want to spend three hundred pages reading about this guy? Sadly, I kept turning pages looking for the answer, but I never found it, so maybe this will save you the trouble.

Maybe he's a realistic character, I'll give it that. He's a guy from a tiny midwest town with no real education, no social skills to speak of, no particular insight into life and no real ability to see beyond himself; I imagine there are people just as uninteresting in the world. That doesn't mean I particularly want to read about them for entertainment.

His best friend is an egotistical macho asshole who hardly acts like a friend at all and never gets beyond being a frat-boy caricature. All the female characters are two-dimensional cardboard cutouts... in fact, there's no one in the book I found likable enough to really root for.

When I finished the book I thought about it for a bit and asked myself, who would I be interested in actually meeting, of all those characters? The answer is no one, and that's a bad sign.

[Benoit Lelièvre · Rating 5 out of 5]

What difference can a great ending make.

Here's the lowdown about THE HEART DOES NOT GROW BACK. It comes rip roaring out of the gates with the most original and daring sixty pages about high school you've ever read in your life. Then, the novel gets more complicated and by the time I was hearing into the final curve, I was wondering if I had been tricked into reading one of these annoying coming-of-age novel about proving yourself to people you went to high school with. But that ending. It was beautiful. It wrapped the narrative together. Gave it a spine and a life of its own.

I have to say that I had an adversarial relationship to the protagonist of THE HEART DOES NOW GROW BACK Dale Sampson while reading. I believed he was soft and that he could only define himself with his relationship to women. Maybe he reminded me a little too much of the boy I once was too. The only think I can say is that you need to trust author Fred Venturini with Dale and that he's got what it take to drive this booming tale home. Amazing coming-of-age novel. It will ring true to contemporary young men more than anything else that's on the market right now.

[Johnny · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a hard book to describe, which is a good thing. Is realist fantasy a genre? Or maybe rural fable? Is an anti-superhero a thing?

Working as both a study of friendship and as satire, THE SAMARITAN manages to maintain emotional resonance within a fantasy premise. I won't get into the details, because the discovery is half the fun. Just suffice it to say, it's a blast.

The really great element of the book is how it never lets the high-concept premise take over, but rather keeps it tucked in the background. This allows the friendship to take front and center. And the relationship between Dale and Mack is beautifully realized.

Definitely a new author to watch.

[SoWrongItsRANDI {Bell, Book & Candle} · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bell, Book & Candle | The Heart Does Not Grow Back Review, Spotlight & Giveaway

ARC courtesy of Picador in exchange for an honest review



I can't remember the last time a book has kept me up half the night thinking about it. With everything that happened in the story, I couldn't help but take it personal. I was angry; I was upset. I really could not get it out of my head. This is not to say that I disliked the book; if any story can elicit such strong emotions from me, it is usually a good sign (I liked it enough to care).


"...They will cling to their moderate high school accomplishments in the classroom and in sports, and they'll go to the community college for two years, which is just a glorified high school with ashtrays and a bigger parking lot, and then they'll never finish ..."


I'm going to jump right in and rant...I mean, discuss the characters. As a disclaimer, I was up the following night psychoanalyzing each one and there might be spoilers ahead, so proceed with caution. I'll start with our protagonist, Dale. It's obvious that who he could have become and any potential relationships with women would have been damaged due to his mother's early demise. As cliche as it sounds, losing a mother early changes a person, more so than losing a father. It emotionally stunts them, and they are left subconsciously looking for a little piece of their mother in every person. They cling to any relationship, or lack of, as evidence by Dale clinging to the idea of Regina, Raeanna and Hollie. It was quite frustrating reading from Dale's POV as he kept looking at these women with rose-colored glasses. I kept waiting him to quit enabling their horrid behavior. On top of his unsuccessful romantic pursuits, he also has a special talent- he can regenerate every body part except, of course, for the heart. It's true what the saying is about not appreciating what we have until it's gone, and Dale's plight at the end served as a reminder that I need to be grateful.



Mack was probably my favorite character of the bunch. His relationship with Dale is like the saying "opposites attract". Where Dale is an intense idealist, Mack is the heavy dose of realism. Maybe it due to him being more charismatic, but he seemed to be the only one who could get a clear read on people right away. Unfortunately Dale never listened and automatically assumed Mack didn't really "know" the person, or whatever the excuse of the day was. This speaks to the level of Dale's wisdom, because even if he thought Mack a fool in these situations, he would know that even a fool can teach you something.



I had a feeling Regina was going to be a total b**ch. I haven't met a "Regina" who wasn't one. Judging from Dale's first impression of her, he should have realized who she was from that moment-- always listen to the signs; if a person shows you exactly who they are, believe them. She never cared for him and it's almost sad that he thought she did. Her twin, Raeanna, is a whole other story. She's worse than her sister. She's manipulative and conniving, trying to hide under the pretense of being meek. I absolutely loathe her as she reminds me of why I hate people in general.



She used Dale; preyed on him in hopes that he would save her abusive, insecure husband. She used Dale's feelings for her to manipulate Dale to sacrifice his life to save her undeserving husband, and then had the nerve to act like she wouldn't ask him to do such a thing! Oh please, that was her passive-aggressive way of asking him to do it. She had no qualms about anything happening to him and walks away like she's some superb human being-- I was beyond disgusted and appalled. I could understand if she was doing all of this for her unborn baby's life--only if the child's life was on the line. But it's for the same husband that beats her, and she wants him to be around for her child! That's how silly of a mother she is...any child that grows up being abused or seeing their mother abused, will grow up subconsciously thinking that that is an acceptable relationship- and believe me, that's exactly what happens; the son unknowingly follows in the footsteps of his father, and the daughter thinks it's "love" when a man beats you. Raeanna's pathetic excuse that her husband has been "good" to her lately was laughable. Of course he was since he was weak and needed you to take care of him; once he's healthy again you'll go back to your hourly beatings- In my 21 years, I have found that people don't change...


"When you get to a moment you've waited so long for, sometimes you can't enjoy it. Sometimes you realize you wasted so much valuable time waiting, wishing away hunks of your life, imagining the goals and moments and successes and dreams."


Hollie was weak willed and selfish, in my opinion. The fact that she would rather die than live for her child, spoke volumes. She may have had a half million dollar insurance policy, but money isn't a substitute for a parent...just ask rich kids. She just received a new organ from Dale and with it a whole new life, and all she did was blame Dale and b**ch and moan about having to live now. Maybe others would agree with her reasoning, but I don't.



Her excuses were nothing more than a cop out- she decided to have that child, now she needs to show up and be a parent. I may be young myself, but my mother taught me that once you have a kid, it's no longer about you and your wants anymore, it's about the child. Hollie would not be doing her daughter, Melissa, any favors by leaving her behind in life, because the world doesn't care about her daughter and wouldn't be any easier on her because she no longer has a mother. And she can take what I just said to the bank!


"Call suicide what you want, but a cowardly act, it is not. If you're not blowing your brains out, you're dying by neglect. You're ignoring that suspicious mole, or smoking, or cultivating that roll of belly fat, or eating too much sodium, or fucking without a condom, or snorting coke, or driving without a seatbelt"


As for the book as a whole, the writing was great and the cover was eye-catching. I loved the premise of regeneration of every body part except the heart- from a literal standpoint, it's a relatively new idea since most people think the head being decapitated will stop regeneration; from a metaphorical standpoint, the heart could signify emotions that can not be wiped clean like a slate- it's everlasting. All in all I liked the book, save for a few characters. By the way, I suppose that this could be considered as more of a character-oriented novel. And that concludes my essay long rant.

[Tammy · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 1/2 Stars!!

The nitty-gritty: Violent, dark, and unexpected, a story about saving the people you love, without destroying yourself in the process.

I took the gun out, a familiar .38 purchased at our local Super Wal-Mart. At first, I kept it under the middle couch cushion and didn’t bring it out for weeks at a time. I’ve since warmed up to the prospect of holding it, watching the light die in the matte finish of the barrel. When you fondle a gun, it starts out cool and warms up, getting friendly in your hands. Hold one long enough and pretty soon, the urge to shoot something takes on a life of its own.

When you see the word “superhero” in a book blurb, you form a certain idea of what kind of story you will be reading. In this case, my expectations turned out to be completely wrong. Venturini has written a different kind of superhero story that surprised me, shocked me, and made me laugh. This story is dark, folks. And I mean dark. Venturini isn’t afraid of pushing people’s buttons, and there are several “trigger issues” in The Heart Does Not Grow Back that will definitely offend certain readers. So fair warning, there is a very disturbing rape scene, as well as numerous acts of bullying that go way beyond your typical school yard variety.

In addition to that violence, there are some upsetting scenes where Dale, who is afflicted (or blessed, depending on your opinion) with the ability to regenerate his limbs and organs, does various things to his body in the name of curiosity, or perhaps science. In other words, squeamish readers may want to stay away from this one.

So you may be asking, Tammy, why did you give this book four-and-a-half stars? The truth is, I really enjoyed the story, and I don’t mind the dark side of fiction at all, so despite a few “ick” moments, it completely pulled me in. Dale is the narrator, and his voice is part of the reason I loved this book. His story begins when he’s in sixth grade, a target for school bullies even then, and gradually he shakes off the role of victim and finds himself in a unique situation: he has a special ability, but he needs to decide whether to use that ability to help others, or to help himself.

Dale is in sixth grade when a boy named Mack saves him from a violent boy named Clint. Dale and Mack become fast friends, and it’s Mack that introduces Dale to two girls who become integral parts of this story, twins Regina and Raeanna. Dale falls for Regina, but one fateful night, after arranging to meet her at a party, Dale’s life changes forever. After a violent encounter with Clint, three of Dale’s fingers are shot off, and he winds up in the hospital.

Dale later wakes up and discovers that his fingers have grown back. This startling occurrence propels him to find someone who can help with a scheme to make some quick cash. Several years later, Raeanna has ended up in her own hell, married to an abusive man name Harold, and Dale spends most of the book looking for a way to pry her out of Harold’s clutches.

But Mack comes back into the picture with a better idea of how Dale should use his gift, and Dale is torn between doing the right thing, or saving Raeanna.

The author does a great job of making Dale a tortured character, much like many other superhero archetypes. He’s the sort of guy who has never really fit in, but his newfound ability changes all that, and forces him into the spotlight. But Dale’s real motivation is a girl, and like so many other superheroes that came before him, he’s bound and determined to sacrifice everything to keep her safe. The real tragedy of Dale’s “power” is that he can never use it to escape the bullies in his life. There are some poignant moments when he wonders if he wouldn’t be better off dead, and it was disturbing to be in his head as he planned out different methods of suicide.

Venturini’s writing is edgy and sharp, and I found so many quotable passages that it was hard to choose just one. Despite the fact that his characters are not the most likable—there are just way too many victims here—there was an underlying sense of hope, and even the ending gives us a glimmer of the happiness that Dale has been looking for. Dale may be wrestling with his conscience over what he should be doing with his superpowers, but he ultimately makes the right decision.

Venturini uses science to plausibly explain Dale’s powers of regeneration—he compares Dale’s ability to the way a salamander can grow its tail back. That’s one reason this book falls under the “science fiction” category for me, because I found myself thinking “Why shouldn’t limb and organ regeneration be possible??”

In the end, it was the tangled and complicated relationships between the characters—Mack and Dale, Dale and Raeanna, Dale and Harold—that kept the story humming along for me. Each character needs to be saved from something, but not all of them want to be saved. But that doesn’t stop Dale, an unlikely superhero, from trying.

Big thanks to Picador for supplying a review copy! Above quote was taken from an uncorrected proof and may differ in the final version of the book.

This review originally appeared on Books, Bones & Buffy.

[Toby · Rating 5 out of 5]

Actually a really astute depiction of ptsd and depression, this book hurts the heart all the way through, 5/5.

[Allen Adams · Rating 4 out of 5]

http://www.themaineedge.com/buzz/rege...

Some of the best stories spring from extraordinary things happening to ordinary people.

That’s the crux of Fred Venturini’s “The Heart Does Not Grow Back”. It’s the story of a regular guy with regular ambitions who instead finds remarkable circumstances thrust upon him. It’s an illustration of one life’s mundane nature being turned inside-out, leaving the liver of that life to stumble his way through a unique and utterly remarkable situation.

Dale Sampson is nobody special. He’s just the smart kid at his small Midwestern high school. His only claim to fame is his inexplicable-to-outsiders relationship with his best friend Mack; Mack is the school’s star athlete, notorious for carving a love-em-and-leave-em swathe through the young ladies who walk the halls.

When Dale falls for one of his classmates, he finally finds a reason to speak up. Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same; despite his best efforts, she simply doesn’t see him that way. She even enters into a relationship with Dale’s biggest enemy. Still, he won’t give up.

But everything changes – for everyone – one fateful night. Tragedy tears up this small community, leaving Dale and Mack and all the rest to somehow try to pick up the pieces. Dale’s life is further complicated by a bizarre turn of events; he discovers that he has a superpower.

Dale Sampson can regenerate himself.

Skin, limbs, organs – Dale regenerates any piece of himself that is lost. This ability first isolates him, then draws him into the spotlight. He finds himself struggling to move into the future as he remains tethered to the past. The attentions of reality TV producers and government agents fall upon him; the only people he can truly count on are Mack and – maybe – another familiar face from his past. Redemption through his gift or exploitation of it – the choice is his alone; he’s just not sure which path he’s prepared to take.

It would be easy to think of “The Heart Does Not Grow Back” as some sort of superhero origin story – which it technically is, at least to some extent – but what Venturini has written is so much more than that. In Dale Sampson, we have someone who epitomizes the reluctant hero. His sense of self is a sad knot of self-loathing and confusion – even when he is doing good, he questions his own motivations. He desperately clings to the past, thoughts of what has been superseding any and all thoughts of what might be.

A dark humor permeates the story, eliciting the sort of laughter than comes in lieu of tears. That comedic sense strikes a balance with the inescapable melancholy that surrounds Dale – even his “happy” moments are marked with gloom. There’s a glum nobility to the character; in some circumstances, his devotion to an unrequited love lost might even feel romantic. With Dale, however, it just feels sad.

This is Venturini’s debut, but he handles the narrative with the skill of a seasoned veteran. The novel’s voice – Dale’s voice – is clear and consistent and compelling. We’re offered a clear view of a young man who will never understand how special he is, no matter how vehemently those closest to him exclaim otherwise. The juxtaposition of Dale’s relatively bland surface and his roiling inner depths is wonderfully rendered, as is the viscerality of his pain – both physical and emotional. Even though he heals, he still hurts.

After all, sometimes a broken heart insists on remaining so.

With “The Heart Does Not Grow Back,” Fred Venturini has made a grand entrance into the literary realm. Consider this his origin story – one whose subsequent follow-ups will likely prove well worth watching for; it is an innovative and thought-provoking work.

[Stephen Gallup · Rating 4 out of 5]

Initially, I picked up this novel because the premise sounded original. A couple chapters in, I felt thrilled with it, because the depictions of youthful relationships (on the playground and then among teenagers) are so deliciously rendered.

True, the startling consideration and even loyalty shown to Dale by the untouchably ultra-cool guy, Mack, might not be entirely plausible. I was enjoying the story too much to fret about that.

Then the subject matter becomes much less pleasant as the story veers off on an unexpected tack. Teenage mischief and rivalry are replaced by unreasoning hatred and assaults. Horrible things happen. Repeatedly, Dale suffers major injuries. But to his surprise it turns out he has an unexplained ability to recover from anything. He can be hurt, but because of this ability he heals very quickly--regenerating not only skin and tissue but even lost body parts.

He compares this with the way lower life forms, salamanders for example, can replace lost appendages. Reading, I wondered if such an ability to recover from damage wouldn't render a person practically immortal. Thinking back, I now wonder how Dale could have lived the better part of two decades without suspecting that he had such a gift. That's just one of many logical gaps, and probably not the most obvious. But somehow the story works anyway, or did for me. Dale has problems apart from his injuries, and I very much wanted to see how he would deal with them.

Everyone wants to be special in some way, especially, I suppose, when they're in high school. Dale has never felt very special. Instead of being celebrated and appreciated and loved, what really happens, he decides, is that "heavy things drop on top of your life and stay put forever." His tendency is toward self-pity. When he finds that there's something special about him after all, he wants to use it, e.g., by becoming a living donor of kidneys, corneas, etc. But does he subject himself to all those difficult surgeries because he's just a very good person? Because he feels an obligation of some sort? Not necessarily. He wants something in return, although I'm not sure he's entirely clear in his mind just what that is. His dream is connected with the twin sister of the now-dead girl he'd loved in high school (twins, I guess, being a variation on replicating body parts).

I thought his wholesale organ donations resembled the impulse some people have to adopt stray dogs and cats, or to try and rescue down-and-out people--the idea being to lift them out of dire circumstances and show them how much better life can be. There is kindness in such an act, of course. But there's also a balance between personal sacrifice and exercise of power, a balance that can tip unexpectedly after the process has begun. Also, as Dale's doctor wisely observes, "reality doesn't transplant. You can't cut and paste a soul."

Other reviewers here seem to be a little confused by this story, and I probably am as well. That's probably just a function of the new ground the author is breaking with it. I very much admire what he has accomplished.

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first came across Fred Venturini’s writing in the Burnt Tongues anthology. He had a great story in it, and I wondered what a full-length novel from him would be like. As it turned out, his debut had come out in 2011. Originally published as The Samaritan through small press publisher Blank Slate Press, Venturini’s The Heart Does Not Grow Back is getting the chance, through Picador, to reach a wider audience. While it won’t appeal to everyone, its hard-nosed approach to the fantastic does a good job bridging the divide between genre and lit-fic.

The Heart Does Not Grow Back details the life, from childhood through the early twenties, of Dale Sampson. Dale is an outcast from the start, his early school days filled with misery. If he’s not being ignored he’s being tortured, and sometimes it’s not exactly against his will. He particularly wants female attention, and doesn’t let humiliation get in the way of his attempts to get it.

Dale befriends Mack Tucker, a wild card and male chauvinist, and finds himself with an actual social life, but this doesn’t last long. Things spiral quickly downward into a blood-soaked night that sees both Dale and Mack injured and Dale’s crush dead. Amidst the devastation, Dale discovers that his body can fully repair itself – limbs and all.

Naturally this leaves Dale a broken man. He lives alone, suicidal and directionless, until one day he sees someone from his traumatic past, and everything changes. She’s broken too, albeit in a different way. Dale falls hard, and makes it his mission to save her.

From here things go in some unexpected directions encompassing religious fervor, media frenzy, and covert government organizations. As selfless as his actions seem, Dale’s masochistic streak is strong, and he ends up punishing himself for imagined wrongs as much as he attempts to atone and to save the “damsel in distress”. Many of the things he does are horribly misguided, and although Dale can’t see it, the reader can. This makes it a difficult novel to read at times, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The ill-fated and aggravating love story aspect reminded me of Maugham’s Of Human Bondage, although the intensity of the obsession in this novel makes sense, considering Dale’s past.

The Heart Does Not Grow Back is a powerful look at the effects of grief and obsession borne from shared trauma, told through clear and lyrical prose. As dark and somber as things get, it’s often a touching read. Dale maintains a sort of innocence when it comes to relationships that belies his troubled mental state, and the novel ends on a hopeful note. Well worth reading for fans of literary fiction, noir, and crime, but anyone seeking something unique should check this one out.

[Shannon · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this book compulsively readable, yet supremely disappointing. Fred Venturini has a great author's voice; I enjoyed letting his writing style roll around in my brain, the words like poetry at times. But that wasn't enough to save this for me. The main character, Dale, clearly suffering from first world problems in addition to his regeneration gift, never can quite pinpoint or deal with the fact that he's struggling with profound depression and it's ability to choke out the possibility of gripping on to any chance of happiness. There's a lot of cruelty in the book, especially in it's side characters who continually beat down the protagonist, mentally and physically. There was nothing redeeming in Clint, Harold, or either of the twins- these characters just kept getting more and more awful and Dale's desire to assist them all in various ways inexplicably grew as each of their flaws increased. I was rooting for Dale throughout the story, but every time he had a chance at happiness, he did everything he could to mess it up. I suppose that this could be the author's intention, but I'm honestly not sure what the takeaway is supposed to be here. There were always motives for any altruistic behavior and the rationale was connected to unhealthy, obsessive feelings. I'm glad the book ended the way it did, but I saw it coming and it felt rushed. Yes, Dale gets redemption, but does he really know anything more about himself after everything he has experienced? Finally, I must mention the problem I have with the treatment of women in this book. Venturini wrote most of the women and Dale and best friend Mack's relationships with those women as weak, conniving, and overly sexed, which made Dale's obsessions even more perplexing. He considered several times that he had no real reasons for forging an emotional connection with the twins and Hollie, but he never sat with it long enough to get to the why. I don't understand why his mother's death and the accompanying sense of abandonment didn't figure more prominently. Both Dale and Mack want love and connection but run from it and objectify the female characters. Even women with the potential for strength such as the agent are objectified; Mack ends up screwing her and Dale tells her to leave her glasses off during sex because she has pretty eyes. The twins are both abused and live and die without any agency, returning again and again to the source of their anguish, just like Dale usually did. Ugh. The wordsmithing kept me reading, but if the author was attempting to use the friendship and character traits of Dale and Mack as a metaphor for human attachment, pain, and hope, a lot is left to be desired.

[Carrie Ardoin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I can't really say this book is ABOUT any one specific thing. The best way to describe it is that it chronicles the life of main character Dale Sampson from childhood to early adulthood. In middle school, he meets the guy who is to become his best friend and shape his life in unimaginable ways, Mack. Mack is a popular ladies man while Dale is the polar opposite, awkward and quiet. Mack is persuasive, especially so on his friend, and so he drives Dale to make a decision one night that changes everything--and leaves Dale with an inexplicable new ability--he can regenerate.

Dale is somewhat boring as a main character. He is in love with a single woman for most of the book, then when things are revealed to him he moves quickly to another. To me, it was as if he was in love with the idea of being in love. Even though he's morose most of the time, you can't help liking him and feeling for him when bad things happen, even though he seems to be responsible for most of them.

The friendship between Dale and Mack is central to the story, and sounds as if it is one sided most of the time. Dale is always there while Mack is womanizing, traveling, and trying to become famous. They even drift apart for a few years, but when Mack learns about what Dale can do they come back together. They seem to truly like each other, and I'm not sure why; each of them has characteristics that make them somewhat horrible.

I have to say I enjoyed the first half of the book a lot more than the second. Seeing Dale discover and test his ability, while coming to terms with how his life had changed, was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't turn the pages quickly enough to see how he would make it through the earth shattering trauma that had happened to him. But once he got into show business, Dale became a completely different person, and he wasn't as pleasant to get to know anymore. I just didn't really love the whole reality show thing.

The ending of the book was definitely unexpected, and I'm not sure if I can say definitively that it was happy or sad...but it seemed to be the only way things COULD end. In the end, Dale learned that having himself would have to be enough, and that is a moral we all can take to heart.

[Brian · Rating 5 out of 5]

On the heels of another 5 star book, I stumble upon another great novel! This book is about Dale, who starts off in high school and has trouble fitting in. He has a crush on a twin, but the other twin seems more interested. His best and only friend is Mac, a jock who befriends Dale after he is picked on. Then an incident occurs in which Dale realizes he has the power to regenerate any body parts that are removed. This includes internal organs as well. The book was just well written and definitely drew me in. I liked all of the characters, and the gritty language and writing style. All around, a great read!

[Jeremy Bonnette · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this book on the library shelf by chance and thought, "Hmm, this looks interesting. I'll give it a shot." Never did I imagine that I would enjoy it so much. Within the first five pages, I knew I was going to devour this book. I just had that feeling that I occasionally get when a book just fits right.

I moved from page to page quickly, not wanting to put the book down. I couldn't wait to find out what happened next. There were some good surprises and some rather stunning moments throughout the story. I thought the ending worked well.

Overall, I've got to give this one a definite 4.6 out of 5.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't know how else to describe this book besides calling it "absolutely amazing". I could not put this book down! It had me hooked from beginning to end. And although Dale Sampson was a jerk of a protagonist at certain points, the fact that he wasn't always the nice guy all of the time actually made me like him more. He was like a real person, instead of a glorified hero, in spite of his "gift". This has definitely become a new favorite book for me.

[Andi · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I heard the author preview the book at another author's book event I thought the book would be entertaining. I was wrong about it just being entertaining... This book is fantastic! It made me laugh, it made me cry, mostly it made me think about the relationships in my life. Worth every minute I spent reading it.

[Samantha Isasi]

the heart does not grow back

I had a moment of worry that this book would take the easy, cheesy way out. I am so glad it didn't. It explores the ideas of love and friendship and recovery and hurt and what these things really are and what they mean. It is pretty intensely fantastic.

[Mkwoa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent. Can't recommend it more. Just read it.
Everything about the writing just sucks you in; my eventual need for sleep is the only thing that kept me from reading in one sitting. Can't wait for more from Venturini.

[Brandon Tietz · Rating 5 out of 5]

First thing you need to know about your reviewer: he’s a comic book junkie…so when I heard about Mr. Venturini’s debut, The Samaritan, and how the lead protagonist has the ability to regenerate his limbs and organs, here I am thinking we’re about to get a teenage Wolverine meets The Breakfast Club with a dash of E! reality show. What I got instead was something different, something I didn’t expect based on the back cover and my own desperate wishes to see comic lore be brought into mainstream novelization.

Our main character is Dale Sampson, and he’s every bit the shy, hopeless loser you need your protagonist to be in the beginning of a novel before he “comes of age,” so to speak. He has no friends. No girlfriend or girlfriend prospects. He’s athletically deficient. Dale generally doesn’t fit in…just your everyday typical outcast. He’s so starved for attention that he lets a group of A-list girls blindfold him and proceed to walk him into hard objects on the playground for their own amusement, and Dale is more than happy to oblige (he can see through the blindfold, it turns out). He plays the victim, yes, but a victim being handled by beautiful women in the making. It’s when this game of “torture the geek” escalates that Dale is pushed into the seemingly unsafe proximity of Mack Tucker, the alpha male of the school. He’s the yin to Dale’s yang: big, strong, desired…but not the sharpest pencil in the box. And so these two strike up an accord, swapping scholastic fortitude for social endorsement. Dale and Mack become best friends, a sort of symbiotic relationship in which brains and brawn combine their individual strengths to make a successful pairing.

Venturini spends about a good sixty pages building the core of this Dale and Mack relationship, and because takes place in high school, there were times the novel came close to having a definitive YA vibe. Close, but Venturini is good about not dumbing it down or cleaning up the mouths and minds that are these two high school males. I never feel the voices and personalities of these two are anything less than authentic. The symbiotic relationship evolves into Mack genuinely trying to get Dale out of his proverbial shell that is his litany of reservations: girls, sports, and parties. It is, for all intents and purposes, the first stage of Dale’s evolution into The Samaritan, but it never fully takes. For the most part, Dale only does what’s expected of the typical high school teen under Mack’s unrelenting peer pressure. It’s only when Dale falls for Regina that he finally assumes a more Mack-like role, if only to capture her attention. He does, but it comes at a price that no one, especially Dale, is ready for, and so our main character is forced to grow up much faster than expected. Vague, but I’m trying to keep the review spoiler-free. Let’s just say that it’s effective and leave it at that.

The first third of The Samaritan could actually be a novelette, given the plot layout, but Venturini takes this shared tragedy and marches into darker territories.

Dale Sampson loses his mother to cancer.

Mack loses any potential career he had in baseball.

The plan of them “taking the world by storm” ultimately fails, and they end up going their own separate ways.

Here’s where I feel the story takes its major turn: Dale’s regenerative abilities finally kick in. It’s not like Wolverine, mind you. For the uninitiated, if Wolverine incurs any sort of harm, be it gunshot or stabwound or cutting himself shaving, the wound instantly heals in the matter of seconds. This is relevant in any X-Men comic in which they show a series of panels ranging from the initial injury, to less injured, to almost healed, to smooth skin. Cue: villain shitting their pants.

Dale Sampson’s ability doesn’t work like this. For one, it’s slower. A toe growing back on the aforementioned mutant would only take moments. Dale Sampson takes a bit longer—a few days, actually. The second difference is that this ability (as far as us, the reader, can tell) is that it’s a rather new phenomenon. Bottom line: Dale Sampson is no Wolverine. Far from it. We quickly learn this during Dale’s exploratory period, and the author does a fantastic job of keeping this believable, right down to the itchy details.

After high school, Dale spends a significant amount time living off his mother’s insurance money, goofing around on the Internet, and testing out this newfound ability. A major discovery occurring when Dale has his tonsils removed only to have them grow back. It’s during this same period that the relationship between Dale and Mack steadily deteriorates until they’re not even talking anymore. Not through anger, but something closer to shame and secrecy and distance. Mack never became what he wanted to be and Dale is more than what he thought. Neither really know how to handle that, and the relationship that we spent so much time on comes to a temporary close with Dale moving into a sort of exile. Alone with himself and an ability he doesn’t fully understand. He’s desperate for something more.

Dale eventually has a chance encounter with Raeanna, the twin sister of the since-expired Regina, and he finds in her the thing he’s been looking for all along: a purpose and a second chance to do the right thing. He decides to protect her, and we draw yet another step closer to The Samaritan as Venturini pens this character keeping watch over a woman that doesn’t want any aid, despite her domestic bruises. Regardless, Dale puts himself in harm’s way for this woman to near-fatal reprisals, injuries that mean nothing (even in their gesture) to Raeanna. He decides to walk away from the situation, but with no amount of closure. Dale Sampson, for all his well-meant intentions, is still failing, still unable to help the people that need it. Oh, and he’s flat fucking broke now.

Venturini pens an awfully clever solution to our main character’s financial woes: organ trade. Without going into much detail, a kidney and liver can fetch a pretty penny, but this isn’t exactly along the moral lines of our hero. Dale Sampson, despite Mack’s influence, is still a good and decent human being. Without Mack, there is no Samaritan.

So what is The Samaritan? Think Extreme Makeover: Organ Edition.

Dale Sampson, with Mack’s encouragement, becomes the star of his own reality TV show in which people with failing organs are rescued by last-minute transplants. The show, as one would expect, explodes. Lots of money. Lots of attention. Dale Sampson becomes the Pauly D of saving people, and that makes him sort of a target.

Mini recap: loser all his life, Dale Sampson all of a sudden finds himself elbow-deep in money and fame. I point this out for the sake of the next paragraph.

Being the plot-conscious individual that I am, I thought there would be a period of decadence and lust. I thought our loveable woe-is-me protagonist would have his heyday of indulgence, whether that would be booze or drugs or pussy or whatever. I expected a shift into darkness to make that resurgence into good that much more meaningful. Basically, I expected the Mack character to have to “save” his friend, and I wonder what that version of the book would have read like. Perhaps I’ll have to have a talk with the author about the “could haves” and the “what ifs.” It’s something I’ve been thinking about quite a bit though. Dale Sampson, despite these monumental changes in his life, is still the same guy.

Venturini goes another route. The ability wanes. Dale’s healing is no longer what it used to be. The reason given is meant to be speculated upon, and I won’t spoil it, but it all makes sense when you think about how the mental state can relate to the physical one. Regardless, we’re on a countdown. The golden goose that is Dale Sampson is tarnishing while Mack stands idly by, unable to do anything about it. The Samaritan has always expected there was one part of the body he can’t regenerate, and given the state of things, decides that it’s finally time to go out with a bang.

His sentiment, however, is not shared by everyone.

It’s the age-old question of “Would you kill one life to save 1,000?” and some people think Dale doesn’t have the correct answer.

Is this a good book?

Fuck yes, it is!

Venturini can write his ass off, and even with the challenge of three very major turns in the story, he somehow manages to take us through the paces in a way that’s smooth while keeping this regenerative ability believable. In hindsight, I think anything too close to Wolverine in that regard would’ve fucked things up. What we have here is special, not super, and that was a good card for Venturini to play.

The reader, like myself, is probably going to have expectations. The Samaritan defied all of them. Not in the regard of quality, but in plot. I expected a different turnout and find myself reflecting back on the story time and time again, from both a reader and author standpoint, and I fear it won’t be long before I pick it up again to hash out these remaining issues. This story and these characters have stuck with me, and so has Fred Venturini.

**This review was originally published at www.wearevespertine.com**

[Simone Schuster · Rating 2 out of 5]

TW: Rape, Suicide, and Murder

I almost didn't finish this book. This was a DNF from high school. It got too depressing for me then, and it was almost too depressing for me now, but curiosity got the best of me. Anything that can go wrong in this book does go wrong: boy likes girl, girl gets raped and murdered in front of him, and he gets his hand blown off. Then his mom dies of cancer, and he works as a lawn mower. This is all the beginning of the book. But of course, the hand grows back and we find our main character with this miraculous gift that he doesn't appreciate. The girl he likes also has a twin sister who he finds out years later is in an abusive relationship. Dale, our MC, develops his savior complex. This entire novel follows him being really unlikable. I don't understand his choices. His best friend is a prick named Mack who never grows out of his high school personality. All he does is have sex with women and drink beer.

I can't honestly say this is the worst thing I've ever read (See reviews for 'Tender is the Flesh" and "Clean Air"), but I definitely won't be keeping this book on my shelf.


SPOILERS__________________________________________________





OK. So the book ends with Dale faking his death, leaving this one woman 400,000 dollars, buying Mack a green Mustang, and ghosting Dr. Venhaus. Then he moves to a big city and looses his healing abilities after giving his heart to RAE'S SHITTY HUSBAND???!?!?? BRO WHAT??? IDK, the last line of the book is "the treasures of life could still be salvaged if I was brave enough to look", which is really sweet, but homie. You threw away your whole life. And then faked your death. This plot was wild and I hated the story.

[Bibliogrub · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can't bring myself to hate on Dale. Even with all the organs and body parts chopped off and regenerated, he remains broken in many different places. He was depressed. He was obsessed. He was consumed by some empty longing.

I gotta hand it to his best friend, Mack who stuck out for him, though. Dale had this great friend who was willing to go through extreme measures just to look out for him.

"Now, that's a bestfriend." - Dale

I almost ended up not finishing this book and I'm glad I stuck with it to the end. It's always the last few chapters or pages that wraps the whole thing up to give you something to say. Well, what can I say? This book was awesome. Despite people hating on this novel, I just love it. Yes there were painfully dull moments but this thing as a whole just ripped my heart to shreds. I love it. The ending was great. You can hate me too for loving this book, I don't care!