Book Review - Sharp Teeth

I chose Sharp Teeth by Toby Barlow for my book club pick in July. When I introduced the book club members to it, I told them there were four reasons I had selected it:

1. It was suggested by a friend whose opinion on the written word I respect.

2. The cover. It looks like a rock band poster.

Oh man, that's awesome.

2. It's about modern-day werewolves in L.A.

3. Aaaaaand it's written in free verse. Yeah. You heard me. FREE VERSE.

Most of the them were with me right up until #4. When I opened the book to show them the broken lines of poetry the light in their eyes was suddenly extinguished like a wet-fingered pinch to a candle flame.

Phsst.

I enjoyed it immensely. It was very different. You could really sink your teeth into (slight pun intended) the language once you synced with the flow of the verses. Barlow is a master of the words. Everything seemed rich and vivid written in such sparse form and he used it to his advantage. Blood seemed thicker and redder. You could smell the hot earth blown bone dry by the Santa Ana winds and the musky tangy of wet dog. You could feel the pulse and jump of the chase, the dampness of tears. See the shimmering skyline of L.A.

There were also some particularly insightful moments:

"Everyone is always looking in the wrong direction,
we worry about our lovers while losing our jobs
we stress out about cancer while our children run away
we ponder the stars while burning the earth.
Lark used to say the bullet we're running from
is almost never the one that hits us."

"What would you do to
protect the love you have?
Would you kill?
Would you hunt to kill?
Would you kill without mercy?
And if you wouldn't
then how precious is your love?"

Keeping track of all the characters proved a challenge for some. Obviously, it wasn't the first time it had come up because several of the paperback editions had a list of the characters. (Mine did not. I had the hardback version.)

We were split on the ending. I thought it suited the story, but others felt it to be incomplete. 

Since finishing the book, I haven't looked at my dog in quite the same way. I keep watching him out of the corner of my eye. I could have sworn I left my keys in my purse and there was more gas in the car last night...

Book Review - Hold Me Closer, Necromancer

I was surprised by Hold Me Closer, Necromancer. I'll admit my expectations weren't high going in. I'd burned out on YA paranormal lit a couple of months ago after blasting through the first seven Morganville Vampire books in ten days. Afterwards, whenever I picked up a YA book that had a paranormal vibe to the storyline, it felt like my eyeballs might pop outta my head and going pinging around the room. I retreated to Regency-era historical fiction along the lines of Austen to soothe my frayed neurons, and Necromancer remained mid-way through the teetering stack of TBRs.

Initially I bought it because it had a promo blurb by Sherman Alexie, author of The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven (which the brilliant, hilarious, heart-breaking movie Smoke Signals was based on), whom I luuurve. His books should be required reading in high school. He's an amazing writer.*

And the fact that the author's name was Lish. Which kinda plays on the necromancer theme. Lish... Lich. McBride... Bride. The Lich Bride.

Anyone??

OK. Maybe it's just me. Anywhoo...

When I finally - and I will admit, grudgingly - picked Necromancer up, I nearly set it down again permanently when I realized main character Sam's full name was Samhain. I sneered in disgust. The author hadn't even done their research. Any good Gael can tell you Samhain is NOT pronounced "sam-hane". It's more along the lines of "sah-win". Thus, SAM cannot be a derivative of SAMHAIN.

Sorry to be such a pronunciation snob, but that shit bugs me.

Fortunately, before I could throw the book across the room, the author redeemed themselves with a plausible explanation in the next paragraph. At that point, I gave up the struggle and let myself become completely engrossed.

Sam is a lovable slacker - a skateboarding college dropout working the fast-food career track. That is, until he has a run in with the local necromancer at which point Sam's entire life goes from meh-to-worse in the space of 48 hours.

One of the other reviewers on GoodReads (Vinaya) said they pictured Sam looking like Lloyd Dobler from the 80s movie Say Anything, and now I can't get the visual out of my head.

Slap a hoodie on him, hand him a skateboard, put him in Seattle, and pit him against an evil-dead-raising SOB, and you have Sam LaCoix.

The plot was twisty and sprinkled with enough new angles on the paranormal stuff - werewolves, vampires, fairies, ghosts, zombies, etc. - to seem fresh. Which is hard to do considering how the market is flooded with the stuff. (Oo. I just came up with the title of my next book/blog post: Weary of Werewolves. Or how about, Fed-Up With Fairies? Sick of Vacuous Vampires?)

Despite all the weirdness going on, Sam came across as a very normal, likable guy. He's not the perfect hero. His apartment is a mess. He eats a lot of ramen. His friends crash on the couch. He ogles the occasional chick. He sticks his foot in it a lot. He bumbles around trying to make sense of his life and find some sort of purpose. He gets his ass handed to him a couple of times, so he's no ninja. All of those things, combined with a good heart, make him a character worth reading about.

The ending, which was very satisfactory, still left the door wide open for sequels. I'm eager to find out what happens to Sam AND all the interesting secondary characters that were introduced.  If the first book is anything to judge by, it's going to be an interesting ride.

*Shameless plug. Sherman... call me.

Book Review - Nobody's Baby But Mine by Suzanne Elizabeth Phillips

Even though I'm not a big fan of Romance, every so often I venture into the genre. On a friend's recommendation, I picked up Nobody's Baby But Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips.

Hey, I'm open minded. I'm willing to give it a shot. You never know, right? People's tastes change.

I finished all 350+pages the book to find that... uh... nope. Still don't care for it. I still prefer a plot that has a romantic interest as a subplot. Romance as the entire focus of a book just doesn't carry a story for me.

For instance, if the plot had been about a female physicist who, while making her Noble Prize winning discovery, decides to have a baby and raise the child as a single mom - that would have been better for me. Then the ensuing romantic entanglement with the sperm donor would have been a bonus.

The sex scenes were well-written and steamy, though occasionally the words "throbbing", "heaving", and "manhood" resulted in uncontrollable eye-rolling on my part. There were abusive overtones, both verbal and physical, that made me uncomfortable, but maybe that's just me being overly sensitive. Maybe that form of verbal and physical sparring is "romantic" for some people, but it's not my cup of tea. Some no-neck brute of a professional football player grabs my arm like that in public and I'm going to flash my license to carry concealed, if you know what I mean.

That probably explains why I prefer books like Monster Hunters International over ones with pink covers. Not very girly of me, I know, but there you have it.

Book Review - Dissolution by C.J. Sansom

I enjoyed Dissolution, though it was darker than some of the historical mysteries I've read. By the end, I was profoundly grateful to be living in the Year of Our Lord 2011. I appreciate luxuries like regular bathing, warm clothing in the winter, fresh food, and beer free of chicken poop.

So often you find it's the little things (poop-free beer) that matter.

Fans of Brother Cadfael and Sister Fidelma could probably appreciate this well-researched and well-written book, though Dissolution takes place later in the historical timeline of the U.K. than either of the others. 

Toward the end I guessed who-dun-it. Or I thought I had. The author hid some devious twists and turns in the last few pages that I didn't anticipate. He was very tricksy. I like that quality in my mystery authors.

I will be picking up the next book in the Shardlake series, because I want to know how the character progresses after his disillusionment. In the end he was left at a crossroads of conscious, and I'm a little nervous for him. When you're close to the thunder rolling 'round the throne, it's safer if you don't have a conscious at all.

Book Review - Ghost Story by Jim Butcher

*Surprises and spoilers contained within...*

It's a story about a ghost.

SURPRISE!

The ghost of Harry Dresden.

SURPRISE!

You thought he would survive the assassin's bullet, didn't you?

SURPRISE!

You thought because he'd beaten the loup-garou and the skinwalker, battled the legions of heaven and hell, walked the paths of the Nevernever, annihilated the entire Red Court with a single spell, backtalked/sassed/gave lip and generally pissed off gods, goddesses, wizards, creepy little girls with vast amounts of knowledge, FBI agents, necromancers, the entire Chicago police department, hellhounds, mob bosses, queens, knights, priests, fairy godmothers, werewolves, medical examiners, wardens, valkyries, tv show hosts, enforcers, ectomancers, pub owners, and homicidal ex-girlfriends that he was somehow invincible?

Yeah. Me too.

Bummer.

"Here Lies Harry Dresden. He Died Doing the Right Thing."

But a wizard's work is never done, not even after death. Harry couldn't get that lucky. After death, things really start to get interesting. That's part of Harry's curse; he lives (and dies, apparently) in interesting times.

I thought it would be impossible to top Changes, the previous novel in the Dresden Files series; it was just that good. So Jim Butcher didn't try. Instead of throwing punches and fists full of fire (Fuego!) to beat his last book, Butcher bobbed, he weaved, he faded out to the incorporeal. Topping Changes became a non-issue. A moot point. A ghost.

"He dodged it," as my friend and fellow Dresden fan, Clint, so aptly put it.

He went in a totally different direction.

Awesome.

In order to get the most out of Ghost Story, I highly recommend reading Side Jobs, the collection of Dresden short stories published between Changes and Ghost Story. The last chapter, Aftermath, helps explain the developments since Harry's death and the appearance of the Formor. It's not a must, but it definitely clarifies a few things and sets up Ghost Story nicely. Plus the short stories are good, clean (except for "Love Hurts", but it's a good kind of naughty) fun.

In Ghost Story, readers learn more about characters introduced in earlier novels, meet a few new characters, and explore the wounded depths of Harry's friends and frenemies after his death. Harry realizes the enormous impact his life, death, and afterlife has had on everyone around him, as well as the city that he calls home.

Harry may be dead, but don't write him off yet. It ain't over 'til the valkyrie sings.

Book Review - The Wise Man's Fear, The Kingkiller Chronicle, Day 2

I fell in love with this author when, after having read his first novel, The Name of the Wind, I was checking out his profile and saw he was wearing a t-shirt that said "Joss Whedon is My Master Now".

Since I have a t-shirt that says "Willing to be Joss Whedon's Baby Mama", I determined at that moment that Patrick Rothfuss and I are soulmates.

The Wise Man's Fear is the second installment in the Kingkiller Chronicles, a fantasy series detailing the life and times of Kvothe, a legendary warrior-mage who is now trying to live the peaceful, non-descript life of a rural innkeeper. The Wise Man's Fear picks up the story-within-a-story style begun in The Name of the Wind, told as Kvothe relates the true story of his past to a Chronicler. The story doesn't, however, lose any of it's potency or it's immediacy for all that.

Despite its length of 1008 pages (Hey, it's epic fantasy. What did you expect?), I didn't skip a single page. OK, the descriptions of the boobs and general nekkidness of one of the fae characters, Felurian, started to get a little old after a while, but I still didn't skip ahead. There were nights I burned the 2AM oil just so I could finish one. More. Page. Maybe one more. After this one I'll stop. I'll stop at the next break. Next chapter, maybe.

If you are a reader, you know how that works. I haven't found a fantasy novel that's done that for me in a while.

BEST PART: Rothfuss' development of the Adem culture was, for me, the best part of the novel. I hope someday Rothfuss writes a novel just about the Adem mercenaries and their schools. The whole idea of their language and how emotions were expressed was brilliant. I experienced the whole "God, I wish I'd thought of that" surge of writer's envy.

Both The Name of the Wind and The Wise Man's Fear are driven by extremely well developed, fleshed-out characters. Rothfuss doesn't seem to be in a rush to get us to the end prematurely (I like that in a man/author :)). He's willing to go the extra mile with his world-building, including all the fascinating details that make reading fantasy worthwhile.

Read the books in order. You won't be able to pick them up out of sequence and enjoy them fully. And take your time. These books are to be savored.

WORST PART: The damn book weighed 3 lbs. I tore the bottom out of a new purse hauling that thing around. Next time I buy and read it on my Kindle, and purchase the hardback for the shelf.

Take good care of yourself, Rothfuss. Eat healthy, exercise, and look both ways when you cross the street, because I expect you to be around to write these books for a long, long time.

The Walking Dead (contains spoilers)

On my Netflix, I'm watching the second episode of the TV series The Walking Dead.

So far, I'd give it two Beretta 9mm (with full clips), two shotguns, and a hand grenade. In zombie warrior rating terms, that is the equivalent of 5 stars.

I am a mass of contradictions when it comes to horror in any medium. I don't particularly care for the books (Not even Stephen King. Sorry, Kate), because I find the contents of an average daily newspaper much weirder and scarier than any work of horror fiction. Since I'm blessed with an overactive imagination and a twitchy trigger finger, in the interest of public safety I don't watch horror movies -- no slashers, no gorefests, and no monsters.

Except for zombies.

I'd analyze the crap out of that, but I don't have the extensive time necessary to excavate all the dark places in my psyche properly. I got other sh*t to do. 'Nuff to say, that when it comes to the undead, living dead, jiang shi, walkers, geeks, ghouls, the old-stump-and-drags-dressed-in-blood-and-rags, I find the subject of the zombie apocalypse fascinating.

This series is well-done and not without its humorous moments, which are of a distinctively gallows variety.

***SPOILER ALERT***
Our small gang of the living and breathing have figured out a way to slip through enemy zombie lines and get out of the city (Atlanta) where they have become trapped by the hordes of flesh-eating undead shuffling about in the streets. With much gagging and puking, they hack up a dead (headshot) zombie with a fire axe and rub zombie goo and guts all over their trenchcoats to disguise their "living" smell. Then two of our smaller brained, stainless steel nutted heroes open the door and shuffle out among the dead and attempt to blend their way past them to a getaway vehicle.

The vehicle is in sight, a mere hundred yards away just beyond a chainlink fence. "It's working. We're going to make it," one of them mumbles. The other one grins in agreement.

Then it starts to rain.

******

I prefer my zombies old-school, slow and stupid, not fast and able to use rocks as tools or scale a chain link fence.

Book Review - Bright of the Sky

I know, I know, this was on my list for the 2011 E-Reader Challenge, but it's close enough to 2011 for it to count, right?

Now, as a disclaimer, I do not like to dog people's work because at least they wrote a book and got it published, which is more than I've done. Marveling at the brilliance that is Kurt Vonnegut, I shall quote him here, "Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae."

However, I don't think it's fair if I only post reviews of books that are, in my opinion, spectacular. With that said, I didn't like Bright of the Sky by Kay Kenyon. By the last few chapters, it was a monumental struggle to get it finished, which is probably not a good sign.

It had an interesting premise, the plot was decent, there was some very good alien creature and world building going on, but I simply could not relate to the characters. I realize there will be many who counter that statement with, "It's SCI-FI, for pete's sake. In SCI-FI, characterization is secondary (or tertiary, or even further down the list of priorities) to the SCIENCE portion of the story."

Yeah, well, I think you can have both. And I want my sci-fi world to have both, because you invited me to visit this planet with your intriguing back cover or inside flap teaser, damn you, and now that I'm here I want... no, I DEMAND, both.

Bright of the Sky didn't have both. There was a lot of telling the reader how the characters felt (particularly toward each other), but not a lot of showing. In life and in literature, actions speak louder than words. As I was reading, I often found myself wondering, "What?? Where did that come from?" Having not seen the emotion between characters develop over time it would come as a suprise when BOOM!, all of a sudden we have significant feeling between them. The characters seemed not just reserved, but robotic.

Frankly, I started out liking the main character, but by the end I thought he was an asshat. Maybe he redeems himself in later books, but I don't know that I want to spend the time finding out.

Book Review - Keeping Corner by Kashmira Sheth

My latest reading trend - books set in India. I'm devouring them like kheer. Fiction, non-fiction, whatever. I can't get enough of the people, the culture, the religions, the food and spices, the brightly colored saris and white cotton angarkas, the textures of the landscape, the sounds of the temples, the smells of the thick, dusty heat of summer and the drenching monsoon rains... The writing is rich with colors and sumptuous flavors, each word a golden feast for the mind.

Which is a nice change from the sere countryside, freezing temperatures, and bitter winter winds of my reality.

Recently I've read "The Man Who Died Laughing", "Mistress of Spices", "Queen of Dreams", and "Keeping Corner". When I ordered Keeping Corner from Amazon, I thought it was an adult book with a young protagonist, but it's a book written for a young adult audience. I was not disappointed in the slightest, once I began reading.

Leela is twelve and lives in the small town of Jamlee in Gujarat, India. The youngest of two children, her 21 year old brother is away teaching at a college in the city. Though whip-crack smart, Leela is a bit spoiled by her parents and her childless aunt and uncle, but not so much you want to smack her. She's wheedling and prone to pouting when she can't have her way and completely convinced the world orbits around her. So in other words... she's twelve.

Despite the fact that in 1918 life in Leela's village seems untouched by world events of the past 100 years, India outside her village is changing rapidly. Her country is in the grips of a terrible drought, the world is at war, and Mohandas Gandhi begins his crusade of satyagrah to protest the treatment of his people by the English.

But those major events just barely intrude into Leela's life. She's more concerned with attending parties and the town's annual fair, giggling with her friends, and cajoling her mother into buying her a some lovely bangles and tasseled hair ribbons to go with her new sunset-red ghagri-poulka.

It just goes to show that, for the most part, twelve year-old girls are the same no matter the time or place.

However, there is a difference - a big one - between Leela and today's pre-teen girls. Leela was engaged at two years-old and married at nine. Her husband is a boy in the village by the name of Ramanlal. Despite being husband and wife, Ramanlal and Leela still live with their parents and aren't allowed to so much as hold hands or speak to each other without a chaperon. Just on the cusp of discovering boys (beyond the "Ewww, yuck! Boys!" stage), Leela's beginning to be intrigued by the idea of her looming anu, a ceremony of celebration when she will leave her parent's home and go to live with Ramanlal and his family.

That is, until the unthinkable happens and Ramanlal dies, ending Leela's hopes and dreams for the future and turning her into a pariah. Widowed before she is even truly a wife, Leela is expected to "keep corner" and stay in the house for an entire year during the initial mourning period. Which doesn't sound that bad, until it is gradually revealed to Leela and the readers exactly what it means to become a widow in her society. Not only can she not step foot outside for the first year (not even into the yard. Basically her home becomes a prison), but her head is shaved bald (forever), she is only allowed to wear a dull brown sari (forever), all physical adornments are taken from her (never to be worn again), and when she is finally allowed outside people in the community shun her (because widows are the worst kind of luck). Oh, and she's never allowed to marry again. Ever.

So that's it. Life is pretty much over for Leela.

Or is it?

This story, based loosely on the author's great-aunt's experience of being a widowed child bride, is one of a girl beginning to question a society's conventions and traditions that she'd never recognized before. Leela learns that knowledge is not only power, but taking advantage of an education can also provide freedom. I enjoy stories that encourage ladies of all ages to capitalize on their intelligence - a characteristic that is devalued in many societies that prize a woman's beauty over her brains. It's was also refreshing to see that Leela took into account her family and their feelings as well and wasn't just rebellious without a care as to how it would effect her relations. She understood that her actions were a direct reflection on her family and could have a detrimental effect their social standing in the very close-knit community.

She refuses to be a victim of circumstance. With judicious use of her intelligence, resourcefulness, sensitivity, and determination, Leela works to make her condition and the condition of other women in Indian society better. Now that is a story with a happy ending.

Book Review - Unseen Academicals

Terry Pratchett is a genius.

He has for the better part of 30 years been the sole inhabitant of the Humorous Satirical Fantasy subgenre. For a population of one, he hasn't done too bad for himself. He has a truly unique vision. Yes, the Discworld is populated by witches and wizards, life and DEATH struggles, battles between questionably good, the uncertainly evil, and the hilariously neutral - but his books are unlike anything you have ever read before or will ever read again. Every book is a crazy, hilarious ride that I hope never ends, but unfortunately after approximately 430 pages it does. Damn.

Unseen Academicals takes place in one of my favorite Discworld settings, the Unseen University in the city of Ankh-Morpork, and tackles (HA!) the subject of foot-the-ball. I believe his portrayal of foot-the-ball's rough, almost criminal beginnings, the rabid fanatics, the madness of the crowd, the willingness of the players to risk life and limb, is spot-on for the modern day game despite the strangeness of the fantasy setting. It doesn't get more strange than a flat world carried on the back of four elephants supported on the shell of the world turtle, Great A'Tuin, who swims through space.

Unless you are a Sooner fan or a Cowboys fan here in Oklahoma during something they call "bedlam".

Personally, I loathe foot-the-ball, soccer, football, or whatever it's called where you live. I don't know anything about any of it and I don't have any desire to learn. I buy a square in the company football pool every week and I have to trust that my co-workers are going to tell me if I won. Considering I have yet to win any money at all in four years, I'm beginning to think they are taking advantage of my ignorance and splitting my money between them.

During the last football game I watched over at a friend's house - one of the four games I can say I've watched from beginning to end - I was quoted as saying "Oh dear, someone dropped their yellow hankie on the field." I wasn't invited back, but I'm convinced I'm not really missing anything.

That is until I realized that foot-the-ball can be played with a team of wizards and an orangutan, coached by a goblin and refereed by the Archchancellor of the University who is possessed by the shade of Evan the Striped (every child's nightmare gym teacher) whenever he uses the whistle and begins screaming phrases like "ANY BOY HERE WHO HAS NOT BOUGHT HIS KIT WILL PLAY IN HIS UNDERPANTS!"

Now THAT is a game I could get in to.

Movie - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I

I went with several friends to the Warren Theater (or maybe it's TheatRE, I'm not certain) to see Harry Potter on opening night last Friday.

As I climb into the confessional, you should know that I have not read Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows since purchasing it at 12:02AM at the Border Bookstore in Boulder, Colorado, on the day of its official release many years ago. After roughly elbowing aside the costumed tweens standing between me and the register I paid for my book, went home, called in sick to work, and began reading at a pace which allowed for absolutely no retention of the material until I, bleary-eyed and slightly nauseous, had blasted through to the final page. Then I had a nice cry and stumbled to bed to sleep for the following 13.5 hours.

I hardly retained anything beyond who lived and died in the final battle and who got married in the epilogue. The movie was all new information to me, full of "Oh, yeah, now I remember that!" moments.

Dude, I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. Cut me some slack.

Realizing that this movie is set up for the final installment, I don't have any major gripes. Maybe when I re-read the book I will. My only issue - and it is minor - was with the use of animation to tell the mythology of the Deathly Hallows. The animation itself was beautifully done, very Tim Burton-esque, but totally inconsistent with the remainder of the movie and previous six HP movies - none of which contained any animated scenes. (Of course, I'm not counting CGI as animation.) It felt as though the scene had been filmed previously in some other fashion, but when it went to editing, the original scene got cut. Needing a quick fix and relatively inexpensive solution, they inserted the animated storyline at the last moment.

The Potterverse characters are wizards, right? Couldn't the wizard retelling the story have animated it for their audience (Harry, Hermione, Ron)? Or shown it through the moving pictures in the book? Or crafted it in a bowl of ink, or a magic mirror, or shadows cast on a wall? There were countless options that could have been used to incorporate the necessary plot element into the movie without taking us out of the scene to do it.

The best part... sitting in the balcony above the common riffraff, indulging in alcoholic beverages, and toasting my heinie in the heated movie seats while watching the film with friends. It's the only way to fly.