Nothing Witty Never Pretty

Tuesday at the Castle

2011-12-02T11:32:00.000-05:00

Tuesday at the Castle
Jessica Day George

Celie and the rest of the royal family of Sleyne live in Castle Glower - a notable thing because, while regularly adding and relocating rooms, the building has been known to creatively expel individuals for whom it does not care. This trait comes in handy for her and two of her siblings when the rest of the family goes missing and are presumed dead. With the help of their home, the three remaining children must hang on to the kingdom until the truth is discovered.

A pure impulse buy, I picked Tuesdays at the Castle up for three reasons: One, the title is pretty much hilarious to me--not sure why; two, the cover is a pretty one that, instead of reviews of previous works, has a teaser on the back of it; and three, the premise kind of reminded me of House of Many Ways. Truth be known, it was actually these three items on top of one other that got this book a ride home with me. I picked it up, read the first page and fell in love.

As I continued reading [The book only took a couple of days], I continued to fall in love with the writing, the story and the characters. The writing and story are both simple enough to attract a young reader but are at the same time neither childish or insulting to their intelligence. Not to be cloying or saccharine in excess, everything about this book [excluding the villains, of course] is sincere and very sweet.

Celie, our protagonist, is eleven years old and the youngest of four children. Being the fact of the matter, she is largely unburdened by royal duties and, until circumstances require otherwise, unburdened by maturity or age. She is, to all, the expert on the Castle, spending her ample free time in an attempt make an atlas of their mysterious and ever changing home. But when her family is endangered, she does her best to shake off the fragility of age and station [or lack thereof] in order to step up as support, part-time tactician and cohort of the building itself.

Watching the very real interactions of the three youths as their parents and brother disappear adn their home is essentially invaded under false pretenses, I was pleased to see that every voice was its own and that the exposition was overwhelming. I enjoyed the characters and the castle, the humour and excitement. All in all, this was a marvelous impulse buy. I highly recommend it.

Apologies

2011-11-20T21:59:00.000-05:00

Apologies for not existing. Two retail jobs from mid-November through probably the second day of January are...expletive filled and insane. Still reading, sometimes writing things down. Generally far too long after the fact. For example, I have read at least four books between now and Unseen Academicals. Not including Snuff. Which is why I actually read Unseen in a hurry--Snuff is a Vimes [favorite] centric book.

You understand, right?

I've got at least two things written [not for either Pratchett--but it's so hard to write about them in the first anymore], and I finished Wonderlust by the author of Hugo [Selznik?]. Gorgeous, fabulous, blah blah blah. Hopefully something sensible soon.

And now I go to bed.

Mouse Guard Fall 1152

2011-10-30T17:39:00.000-04:00

Mouse Guard Fall 1152
David Petersen

Hidden in the world, there exists an unknown kingdom of mice, long protected from the evils and dangers of the world by their noble Mouse Guard. They keep guard against predators, find safe routes between the secreted cities, and maintain a fierce loyalty to the guard and the mouse realm that is their home. Because of this, when there are stirrings of a traitor discovered in the ranks, three mice seeking a lost merchant find the threads of a plot more dangerous than they could have anticipated.

As a standing and vocal fan of Brian Jacques and much in the way of fantasy involving talking animals, I cannot imagine that anyone would find it a surprise for me to pick up, read and enjoy this book. Also, the art is simply entrancing--it's grittier than the Christopher Denise-illustrated Redwall books, but let's remember both of those covered special events rather than honest-to-goodness battles. The blood is there, the frightening scale of mice being substantially smaller than [and because of this I cannot allow a good friend of mine to read this book] the crabs fought at one scene.

As for the writing? Well, the build up for the story is well-paced and then angles allow the reader to start figuring out where different threads of the story may lead, the characters are acceptably interesting and the world is a clever sort of combination of the borrowers [purportedly set in our world, or at least a world scaled and filled with the regularly anticipated predators] and Redwall [talking mice, their own culture, buildings and fortifications, etc] but I will maintain the one complaint I had as soon as I finished it: Mouse Guard Fall 1152, for all its glory, is far, far, far too short. The content didn't feel so much like chapters in a story as like the bits of a TV show between excessive commercials. And the book itself didn't feel like a pilot episode so much as the first half of one--like when they split two-hour pilots up into single-hour episodes for reruns.

Yes, it completes a story arc but it does so in an almost choppy way, abruptly halting and leaving you in the middle of the world, stranded, staring at an end page.

This may be because I'm not accustomed to reading graphic novels right now, nor will I likely ever be, but one way or another, I left this book feeling as though, while I thoroughly enjoyed what I had, I felt short-changed.

Most likely I will eventually get the next...but I may wait until someone gives it to me.

If you see it in the library and you've got some time to kill, go ahead. It's worth a read and won't take you long at all.

Wildwood

2011-10-30T16:11:00.000-04:00

Wildwood
Colin Meloy [author], Carson Ellis [illustrator]

Pru's life was fairly normal until the day her baby brother Mac was kidnapped by a murder of crows and taken into the impassable Wilderness. Now she is going to go where no one ever goes with tag-along classmate Curtis as support. But even more unexpected for them are the factions of talking animals, political movements and so on in the three countries nestled within what has always been supposed to be an empty forest. Swept up by the current events, Pru just hopes she'll find Mac before anything else can happen.

Here is my broken record: I pick things up and I put them down. But then, later on, as though it was all a clever ruse, I buy them anyway. I know you know that I do it, because it comes up regularly. So does the notion of me buying a book

It's hard to explain, now, weeks and books after I finished it, quite what was so enjoyable about it. Yes, I know I need to be writing these immediately, but reading is quite often easier than writing is for time and thought's sake. Lame? I know that, too.

But both Pru and Curtis are believable and interesting characters to follow as they are pulled into the chaos of the wilderness. Meloy keeps the book from getting fluffy but also from being too political. He throws in a lot of the old darkness, in a way the realistic darkness, into the works--the battles, and there are a few, are not gruesome but not injury-free fluff. There is death, there is violence, there are gross points that lend some weight to the text. It's not just a cutesy little story with a pair of kids scampering about the forest with the help of bunnies and robins. This is an engaging story, well-written and thorough in its carriage and explanations. It is not off-putting to me that this is the beginning of a new series--although I do hope it is a short one. Also, even though there are lead-ins to the next book, I would be contented to see it remain alone.

Well, mostly content because I read so many other things. Were I to reread Wildwood, I am sure that I would impatiently tap my foot at not having another story to follow it up.

The Sable Quean

2011-10-23T18:15:00.000-04:00

The Sable Quean
Brian Jacques

Villains have invaded Mossflower again, but this time the leader is trying a different strategy. Instead of an out and out assault, the Sable Quean is hiding herself away and commanding her creatures to kidnap the infants and children of the land while avoiding any open warfare against the famed abbey. Little does she know the abbey and the forest are inexorably bound together for the good all all inabitants. When you mess with one, you mess with all.

I have been reading the Redwall books for ages now, and I am aware [and freely admit] that they are formulaic. Spunky youths, wise elders, kind monks, engage in epic battles against nasty, evil scheming baddies. Soem die, but in the end, good does always triumph. Because of this some stop reading.

I don't.

I won't.

Brian Jacques was a part of my childhood [or at least youth], and I love the familiarity of the world he has given me [aside from geography, but oh well, right?]. I love the garrulous hares, the humble molefolk, the augmentative shrews and all of the many species he has filling the realm. I love the friendships forged and hardships overcome. I love the joy, laughter and honest sorrow shared by the characters. I will never tire of the strange foods they make and enjoy. And I will always, always love my happy endings.

I don't know if you've read any Jacques, but I will heartily recommend it. If you read too many back to back, you may tire of the echoes heard throughout, but if you save them for that rainy day when you've tired of the world at large, the stories of Redwall will bid you welcome and offer you a place of peace by a roaring fire.

And The Sable Quean is no bad place to start.

13 Curses

2011-10-06T21:24:00.000-04:00

13 Curses
Michelle Harrison

Red's younger brother was kidnapped by fairies when he was a baby and she swore then to get him back. Now trapped in the fairy realm herself, if she is able to complete the quest given her, the heads of the royal court have agreed to not only find and bring back her brother, but also return them to their home. All that is needed is for Red to find the thirteen silver charms from Tanya's bracelet and present it to the court. Unfortunately, the thirteen charms in question are small and scattered across the real world.

If the title rings any bells, it may well be due to the fact that you've heard of or read the first book [as I did, last summer], The 13 Treasures. Now, to be honest, one of the reasons I picked it up is the cover. Another is the dust flap. Also, and importantly, because it looked to be a good standalone novel. And it was.

Usually, when I later discover that an excellent book [or movie] has an upcoming sequel, I get a touch depressed. Let's be honest-how many of the gratuitous sequels thrust upon the public are actually necessary? How many are the act of lame money grubbers? Then there are the people who create a book, realize they can make it into a series, end the series and then start thinking about revisiting the series. Marketing, marketing, marketing. Argh, argh, argh.

Sorry. End rant.

My point was actually that, upon learning that there was another installment after 13 Curses, I was not overwhelmed by disgust. I was so unexpectedly delighted by the surprise quality of the first one, that I eagerly purchased this one without the usual hemming and hawing. When I began to read it, however, I also began to wonder...

This book starts out quite slowly. Red, who did not really interest me so much in the first book becomes our new lead character as she finally gets a proper shot at finding her brother. She is alone in the forest to start out and it is just plain dull--too slow for a start. As the action picks up, so does the ease of engagement with the story. Because of this, a few chapters in, we're up to being almost as awesome as the first book. Almost.

Altogether and on the whole, 13 Curses is an interesting read. There is action, adventure, mystery, plot, friendship, enmity, trials, tribulations, fairies, people..lots of fascinating things to keep you going. Also I suppose that I am a substantial fan of Harrison's writing.

[Disclaimer: This is actually a terrible review because I waited far too long and worked at 3 in the morning, so my brain might be more than a bit punchy. I think I'll go to sleep now. Much love--Leslie.]

Waterfalls

2011-09-27T21:11:00.000-04:00

Waterfalls
Lisa T Bergren

After falling through time, modern-day Gabriel finds herself stuck in Dante-Era Italy, rescued by the most gorgeous knight she could imagine. Things are not all romantic and well, though, because her new crush is part of a long-standing land war with his neighbors, as well as being betrothed already. On top of that, she fears that her sister fell through as well and may have been taken in by the opposing side. Wishing she had paid more attention in history class, Gabi must navigate her way through the medieval Italian Courts, find her sister and get home, all the while wondering just how much she really wants to leave.

Two statements must be made here: The first is that this book has everything going horribly against it when cursorily examined. It's timebending fantasical romantic Christian teen fiction--FPN to boot! [That would be first person narrated, just saying.] With that excessive list in prelude of the novel, you might wonder how and why I read it in the first. To be honest, I did find myself wondering the same thing.

To be even more honest, however, I must admit that I have a severe soft spot for fish-out-of-water tales such as this, despite romantic overtones, Christian sourcing and unexplained time travel. I actually always have.

The story itself is pure, unadulterated, fluff. What it has going for it is that the author seems to make no pretense of it being anything else. There are no grandiose expositions examining time itself or comparing philosophies of the two presented eons. It is just the story of a girl [with fortunate parentage for the situation at hand], dealing with her problems as she comes to them. Yes, she falls in love with the soon-to-be lord of the castle, and he with her, but she is a teenager, the heroine and so on. To not do so might make the book completely unreadable, if not handled by a savant or something.

As for the narration, well, I'll go with the thought that it wasn't an offensive use of FPN, but it did get wearying at times. Her use of contemporary speech patterns was also a source of irritation to me, but no more than, say, holding a conversation with an honest-to-goodness actual teenager. What can I say? I've got an old [and somewhat crochety] soul. [Something did make me giggle like a ninny, though--at one point she makes a reference to hobbits. I'm a dork like that.]

What was worrying about the text, more so than the projected content, genre and style, was the fact that the book was "Christian." I'm unsure of whether or not this is claimed in any way on the book itself, but it was given to me to read by my manager at the Christian book story, and she had gotten it from a Christian Publisher's box o' stuff or something. If you have, by any chance, read my review of Died in the Wool, you will have gleaned my general opinion of contemporary Christian fiction is impressively low. I simply have not seen enough to credibly state that it is, as a whole, of any literary quality. I am certain that 80% is pure fluff and drivel [if my store's stock is any shallow indication], and all of it is some kind of suspect quality. However, I shall delight in being corrected [if you can], though this book is not the one to do it.

No, the writing is not vomitously amateur, but neither is it likely to win any shiny awards. To put it straight forward, the writing is high-end of fine. Some things that push it out of "meh" territory are the historical elements. I am no scholar, but Bergren manages to present an image of medieval times that is simultaneously gross [think potty arrangements and other basic hygiene] enough and romantic enough [the love interest is manly and smells so--apparently--but mostly like wood and fires and cinnamon...cinnamon is manly? Okay, sure.] to be tolerably realistic without disturbing our delicate modern sensibilities. What does set this book apart in its execution is that God is not shoe-horned into every page. The girls come from a strictly C&E household, so Gabi doesnt' really fall into the cloying female Christian role. Instead, surrounded as she is by the religious fervor of the period, she begins to test the waters. The prayers are quick and informal: thanks for safety, don't let him die, let her be okay. These are the kinds of things we pray without always realizing it. And it is because of this that I find a certain amount of respect for the book.

Sometimes you cannot just go full God when you are trying to reach someone. Full God mode can be scary and set off the fight or flight mechanisms of the brain. Inasmuch, I support when Christians are willing to make things that are on the border of the more out-right Christian media. It provides an access point for people who laugh at hymns and tracts. No, I'm not saying that this book will convert millions, but it might make a difference to someone who isn't sure about the God things but enjoys reading the book.

If you could not tell, I did really enjoy this book. I it seemed to drag on a bit more than necessary in places, and it is pure cheese...but I would [more or less] proudly add it to my library...if given it, like with the Ally Carter books. It is not for everyone, but it is for some of us.

[Post Script: Since I originally wrote this, the books arrived in my store. They're not expensive for their size--$9.99, I think. It was a bit of a temptation. But I held fast. I just need to get a hand on the sequels now.]

There are at least two, maybe three reviews coming.

2011-09-13T11:19:00.000-04:00

However, I must formally observe that I officially have too many childrens/YA books to fit in their four alloted shelves.

The Invention of Hugo Cabaret

2011-08-27T22:50:00.000-04:00

The Invention of Hugo Cabaret
Brian Selznik

Living alone in the walls of the Paris train station, Hugo's sole goal is to finish a job begun by his father: the repair of a mysterious mechanical man, poised to write a note. Things get more complicated, however, when he is caught thieving mechanical toys for their parts and loses a notebook his father made on the mechanical man. Forced to work off the stolen goods, Hugo soon finds that he is not the only one with a secret in his life and, somehow, this cranky old toymaker might just know or be the answer he needs.

This book came out some time ago--I've no real idea of when, but I promise you that I picked it up and pondered purchasing it the first time I saw it. As with so many books, I continued to pick it up and flip through it each time I could. It was not, however, until I saw a trailer for the upcoming film release of the book that I bought it. Yes, yes, I followed the crowd, I guess.

As-of-yet unreleased film aside, there are many, many reasons to purchase your own copy of The Invention of Hugo Cabaret in the near future. One goes against something we've learned since we were children: The cover. Adorned in the fabulous swirls of red, gold and orange, the slip cover immediately puts one in mind of a circus or show, of the old school variety with men wearing well-waxed mustachios and women in sequins. But as you lift the book to examine it further, you will notice something quite unusual--the pages are not white, off-white or colored. The pages are black.

Whoa, hold on there, you might think; how does that even work?

I've no idea how to say it better, but my friend, it works beautifully, bringing us round to reason two: Format. Don't venture down the road of anticipating white text on a black page in a sort of film negative reversal thing. Think of it more in context of [as you are supposed to, I would say] a black and white film. The black page is your blank screen. When something is happening, either in pictures or narration, they are inserted over top the black, giving the whole book a high-contrast feel that refuses to allow the eye to wander.

In keeping with the silent film simile, the book does have both pictures and narration. Brilliantly executed, our author and illustrator intertwine the text and images seamlessly. Instead of following the well-beaten route in which the two aspects of an illustrated story simultaneously broadcast the same thing, The Invention of Hugo Cabaret is alternately a written novel and a wordless picture book. Scenes of dialogue and exposition appear in large white rectangles framed by the black page while action and description are, quite literally, pictured.

Working as a well-choreographed team, both pieces pull together the brilliantly endearing and complex story of Hugo trying to survive in and figure out the world. The story alone would have been enough for me to by the book, if in an eventuality more severe than what came to pass. The art, by itself, would have warranted the same thing. Fortunately for my wallet, however, they exist together as one harmonious story. I am more than pleased with this little adventure. If I had an honest complaint, it would relate to the fact that I read through it far too quickly and then a friend borrowed it before I could read it again.

Boo hiss.

Died in the Wool

2011-08-16T13:00:00.000-04:00

Died in the Wool
Elizabeth Ludwig, Janelle Mowery

What happens when a small town gets some money that is meant to go toward various and sundry civic needs to be sorted by a committee? Flattery, bribery, sabotage...a little murder perhaps? And what happens when said murder happens in the local library that is headed by a spunky female librarian who may have already tried her hand at amateur sleuthing? She investigates, of course, and finds she might have bitten off more than she can chew.

I will be up front with you right now: I did not like this book [if you could not tell by the...tone of the summary]. This book represents so much that is wrong with the amount of material that is published today. The characters are shallow, hackneyed and uninteresting. Their interactions are cheesey and predictable. The writing is remarkably underwhelming.

What really breaks my heart here is that I had high hopes for this book, but as soon as Miss Spunky Protagonist began day dreaming about Detective Honorable Gentlemanly Dreamboat, I knew I'd lost. I had taken a gamble, picking up this Christian Mystery [Romance], yearning for a piece of accetably readable fluff and found myself struggling ot finish it. Why, oh why, did I fall forthe amusing title and oddly, though intriguingly, disconnected cover? ["Died in the Wool" suggests yarn or knitting, buth the image on the front was actually a girl in a library.]

I should have remembered what English Major snobbery taught me: all Christian Fiction is crap. Well, not all of it, but judging by the overwhelming presence of the romance genre and the repetition of themes...too much of it. For too much of it.

Don't bother with this one, friends. Not if you want to read something interesting.

Sigh.

Making Money

2011-08-16T12:08:00.000-04:00

Making Money
Terry Pratchett

After doing battle with and scheduling the anarchy of the Ankh-Morpork Post Office, Moist Von Lipwig finds himself trapped in an endless cycle of tedium. Before madness sets in, however, he finds himself being put in charge of something bigger and, incredibly, more dangerous: the Mint and Royal Bank of the city. He must bring the sleeping giant once again to the light of functionality without succuming to any of the numerous attempts on his life. Once again, he's got to keep on his toes and he's loving every minute of it.

If we must be brutally honest, this book will never be high in my ranking of Discworld. It gets off to a bit of a shaky start which, at the end, somehow preempts any of the raging awesome that normally overwhelms the reader from taking hold. Probably about a third into the book is when we really start feeling the familiar tingle, but because it almost feels...unbalanced, the novel is simply does not rock.

Don't mistake my meaning--it is lightyears beyond Eric and most likely a leap and a bound beyond The Colour of Magic [not bad, just early], but this book is really just small potatoes.

Another of my issues was, as previously mentioned, pacing. The second is actually language. Pratchett does not often use swear words and because it is uncommon, when such words appear [if infrequently] in Making Money, they felt, well, alien. Because of this, they break the hold, the willing suspension of disbelief that we hear about so frequently and ruins any momentum that has been built.

My finaly complaint is one that, undoubtedly, is my own fault. I regularly find that the indefatigable Mr. Pratchett sets up his ludicrously complex and intertwyined plots with abounding details that give the reader a fighting chance, should they so desire, to figure things out. These details were fewer and even far between in this novel. Or perhaps there simply was not enough going on to warrant them.

To be brutally honest, I don't know. What I do know is that, for the past three weeks, I have consistantly worked 50-60+ hour weeks [total, at my two jobs], and whatever my brother might say, that is more than enough to whip my brain to mush.

Wrap up? Second Moist story: meh. I loved the first. Umpteenth Discworld novel, adore 90% of them.

Final conclusion? It's a Pratchett. Of course you should read it.

This is just a note to say...

2011-07-29T06:22:00.000-04:00

I'm not dead yet, but at times I feel as though I very well may be on the way to it. I haven't stopped reading, either--in fact, I'm in the middle of, what, three books right now? Thing is that one is a dry non-fiction bit of text, one is yet another Pratchett [sadly, I'm almost out of Discworld novels] and one is a silly piece of non-fiction a coworker gave me because I'll be getting married next year and it's about the first year of marriage. Also, I have two jobs that book end my days which makes life a bit more hectic than I realized it would. But still, reading reading reading and not a chance to finish a blessed thing.

Ah well.

Celandine

2011-07-15T16:30:00.000-04:00

Celandine
Steve Augarde

Celandine has just run away again, but this time she has determined that she will succeed. After fighting with an unpleasant governess, being sent to a horrible boarding school and losing her brother in the war, she has determined that she is no longer going to put up with the chaos of the human world at large. Instead, she will escape in to another world, hidden within but from reality, that she discovered when she was younger. She will escape into the world of the Various, the little people of old, thought only to be myth. What she does not expect is that the peace of even this small sect of life is in grave danger of being shattered.

This book is a pretty, pretty book. I know you're not supposed to do this, but I do often judge a book by the cover. Well, sort of. Let's explain it more accurately by saying that I pick up a book because of the cover. I found Celandine whilst wandering the local library with my roomie. She had somehow coerced me to join her in the venture [I have a stupid habit of being reluctant to restart things from which I have once deserted, though I enjoyed them tremendously in first.] and we were perusing the youth fantasy shelves together [I believe she was looking for Eoin Colfer books or something--I cannot properly recall.]. It was the cover of this story that got me to pick it up, and the bookflap that won me over. I will not promise that, had this been Barnes and Noble, I would have bought it, but for free? Yeah, I figured to give it a go.

I am quite happy that I did.

For the most part.

The reason for my reluctance is that the book is an odd one. It's serious, set at war time and very straight forward. After a fall in her childhood apparently wakens her senses to a supernatural gift, and the strains of childhood and war begin to pull her family to the breaking point, well, things begin to break down. There are very few instances of levity or humour in the book, and much of it ventures into the disturbing. Celandine's peers, for example are almost inhumanly cruel to her and her friend at boarding school. Or, perhaps, the problem is that they are too humanly cruel. Either way, it's pretty dark for a children's book.

And it has to be kids, rather than YA, though any properly inclined age group could enjoy it. The presentation is young and easy to understand, when the Various are not speaking in their thick country accents. [The accents were often obnoxiously thick, to be honest, and were the only pointed source of contention in my mind. Their saving grace is that Augarde is remarkably consistant within their individual linguistic patterns.] Something about the book just feel young--perhaps it is Celandine's youth that does it. I suppose it is just one of those dark children's books.

The most unfortunate thing about my reading Celandine is that it is, irritatingly, the second book in a trilogy. Now, I would swear up one side of the book and down the other that there was no mention of this in the description...but I'm probably wrong. I most likely overlooked it at some point, and found out only at the ver end of the reading experience. Don't get me wrong, though, the book itself can be completely standalone, if all you're interested in is Celandine. From my understanding, the trilogy is actually about the Various and this book serves as a continuation of their legacy through their time with Celandine.

In the end, I'll say it is worth the read, though it may feel somewhat arduous at certain moments. The story is sound, the character is solid [if a bit annoying at times, but hey, she's a kid] and the Various are a very intriguing concept and society.

[Wouldn't you pick up a book that pretty, too?]

The Girl in Blue

2011-07-15T16:07:00.000-04:00

The Girl in Blue
P. G. Wodehouse

On Jury Duty, a political cartoonist falls in love with an airline stewardess while still betrothed to another woman. In the offices of a large retail facility, a reputable lawyer learns that, to avoid any sort of lawsuit on the part of his sister, he must take her out of the country immediately to keep her potentially kleptomaniac hands out of trouble. In London, another lawyer's day cannot get any better as he has gotten his hands on a family heirloom that had evaded him for years and his brother struggles to pay for the upkeep of their ancestral home. Each oblivious and in their own world, they are all about to find out how small a world it is after all.

Introduced to Wodehouse by an impulsive purchase of the Jeeves and Wooster television series by my roomie, I immediately fell in love. True, this is an [amazing] adaptation of the author as portrayed by the [brilliant] Fry and Laurie, but if the basis of the stories was anything akin to the madcap glory of the show, there was no room for let down. To be sure, then, that there was no let down. I picked up The Girl in Blue shortly after the aforementioned roomie purchased a substantial collection [single volume, which I detest on the whole] of Jeeves and Wooster reading material, and quickly realized that, while I have no need to buy the famed dandy and valet's stories, I had every reason to buy anything else by Wodehouse. I found myself several pages in whilst still sitting on the stepstool in the store. No chance was there of me not buying it, despite my proclaimed austerity measures. Shortly thereafter, I had a bit of a roadtrip to New Jersey where I was, unsurprisingly, the only early riser. The book was finished on day two.

It made me sad.

Every ounce of madcap fun, wit and cleverness found in the well-loved television series was represented in The Girl in Blue. Though it was in no way a mysery novel, the number of storylines that are involved give it an air of intricacy that a mystery novelist should dream of attaining. And yet, at the same time, there was no sensation of being overwhelmed by the numerous characters and locations. Each person was their own and could not readily be mistaken for another. The locations were well defined and because of this, though the characters were not always even in the same country, the only confusion to be had was to be found on the page when the chaos began.

If Shakespeare ever taught me anything, it was to always explicitly use names when talking to and about people.

If Wodehouse has taught me anything, it is to risk the offense and ask for information up front and save yourself the misadventures of assumptions.

And just so you know, I'd rather read Wodehouse over Shakespeare anyday.

Quite enjoyable, I look foward to more of the stuff.

The London Eye Mystery

2011-07-15T15:48:00.000-04:00

The London Eye Mystery
Sioban Dowd

Because of a neurological condition with which he was born, Ted doesn't process the world at large the same as we, or even his family, will. It is precisely because of this, however, that he and his sister become their aunt's only hope when her son goes up in the London Eye, but never comes down. Together, the siblings will follow leads and ask their own questions while Ted's brilliant mind sorts all the facts as only he can in the hopes that they will find their cousin before it is too late.

This book was recommended to me months and months ago, oddly enough, at a tea party. The young lady offering it was a student teacher and the text itself was a piece of required reading for her class. Ever eager for the chance to find some new bit of awesomeness, I wrote down the suggestion and promptly lost it. Over the next few weeks, I couldn't seem to either A: remember the title or author, or B: find the book when I could. Eventually, it turned up to be available at a Barnes and Noble I was visiting with a friend in North[?] Carolina, but it was in poor condition and I could not fathom its purchase. [I am a snob--if I'm buying a book listed as new, I want it to actually look new. Sheesh. I found other things to buy anyway.] Then, a couple of weeks ago, my roomie went on a library run and was able to get the book out for me to read! Needless to say, after the wait, I was thrilled to finally have my mits on it. I was even more thrilled, however when I read the book.

Like so many stories anymore, The London Eye Mystery is told first person by the protagonist [Ted]. He's a younger boy and does relate the story from his precise point of view, which means it is funneled through his lens before we get a crack at the information. I worried early on that this concept had the potential to be a great hindrance to the text, but as I got through even the first chapter, I realized that it was, instead, a great help. Because we were seeing through Ted, we got a clear picture of his very small world, filled with meteorological facts and information, as well as estranged observations about the purportedly normal humans around him. He wonders about their facial expressions which denote their emotions, something he is only just learning to read properly. He wonders about their reactions and thoughts and obscure tendancies, allowing the reader to get almost a clinical examination of tics and triggers that they themselves might have. [Honestly, it kind of made me wonder what I seem to the public at large.]

The mystery itself is in the tradition of most all popular mysteries--a big thing happens and the big guns go to take care of it, because it's what they do. However, it's the underdogs and left out that get the clues and sort it all out in the end. Even through their youthful mistakes, it's easy to root for Ted and Kat on their mission. Being told from first person, we get clues as Ted gets them, which allows for personal deductions on the part of the reader, which, in turn, allows for greater interaction with the text at hand.

Well concieved, constructed and executed, The London Eye Mystery is well worth a read. Enough so that, after I finished it, my roomie went ahead and read it before returning it. She ended up then purchasing her own copy, which means I don't have to!

The Final Summit

2011-06-19T14:43:00.000-04:00

The Final Summit
Andy Andrews

After his wife dies, David Ponder finds himself listlessly wandering his apartment with no purpose to his days. His sorrow is interrupted, however, when the Archangel Gabriel appears to him and takes him to a summit where, along with five of the other Travelers of history, he will determine what humanity needs to do in order to save themselves from a dark fate of their own making.

The premise doesn't sound promising, initially, because it's sort of an oddity. Once you get yourself further into the text, however, than the first pages, you learn that Travelers are people who have gone into the past and met great figures of history to learn things, generally escorted or guided by an Angel or Archangel of some sort. In these travels, they are supposed to take the tidbits of wisdom and apply them to their lives, growing as people and sharing their knowledge [if not their story, since people might think they're kind of bonkers]. Still a bit whiffy for you? A little nonsensical?

To be fair and honest, the plot doesn't have to make much sense for at least this book--there are two previous that I've not read, I was given this one randomly--because the whole point of the book is a discussion of philosopohical ideas that can be applied to contemporary society for the betterment of humanity. The plot is really just a reason to get a handful of historical greats sitting at a table for a bit of a chat., and while I was extremely dubious at first, once the ball got rolling with David, Winston Churchill and Abraham Lincoln, I was simply entranced. I read 80% of the novel in one night and would have undoubtedly finished, but for an interruption.

One of the reasons the book is so engaging is that there is no exposition, or rather the entire thing is exposition. It is literally a roundtable with a handful of folks talking about what they believe, what is important to them, and what has happened to them to formulate these opinions. Consequently, the majority of the book is dialogue, and it flows steadily without feeling overwhelming. It was very interesting to have historical greats chatting it up and doing a little bit of hero worship, and I look forward to investigating the previous books in the series that set up the whole idea of the Travelers.

Voyage of the Slaves

2011-06-06T12:50:00.000-04:00

Voyage of the Slaves
Brian Jacques

The Flying Dutchman is a ship cursed to sail the seas for eternity without rest or harbour. Ben and Ned, the two innocents on board when the crew was cursed by an Angel of the Lord, share only in immortality and instead roam the world as they can, following the Angel's command to help all they can. Their most recent adventure lands them with a travelling troupe of performers in the clutches of a slave trader called Al Misurata. Aside from escaping themselves, both Ben and Ned know they must rescue their new friends and, if possible, put a stop to the evil man. However, their past is a complicated one that cannot be explained to just anyone, and even as the wretched Captain Vanderdecken persues them in their nightmares, Ben faces perhaps his most challenging problem to date: falling in love with a normal girl.

This book is a sequel. Actually, it's a third. But I'm tempted to label it, not only my favorite, but the best of the three stories. The first novel, The Castaways of the Flying Dutchman was half back story half new adventure--it's moderately difficult to have a randomly immortal boy and dog that go about saving folks without actually having a reason as to why. Even Dr. Who has a backstory. Quite an intense and complex one, too, it would seem. Book two, The Angel's Command, is also split down the middle as two stories. This book falls back on the Redwall standby of having the book dubdivided into three books and then chapters throughout, with the books being nothing more than sort of act markers for a play. The book, physically about the same size as the others, is one story from first page to last and allows Jacques to play with more maneuvers and action while also developing his side characters. Sort of. As the sea would allow, there are actually several change overs from ship to ship, regularly presenting new friends to help Ben and Ned on their mission.

Being the third in the series, this is not really an easy book to pick up and read standalone. Throughout the text, there are numerous references to the previous written adventures [all footnoted with the title to which you would look for them] and even a few brief explanations, but I would venture to say that a new reader to the series would find these more obnoxious than helpful. Actually, even as a returning reader, I found them to be kind of obnoxious. [The footnotes for the few non-English words were quite helpful, though. I learned a few pieces of German and Italian.] But if a reader can get over the oddities of the premise and arrangements and approach this book for the children's adventure that it is, well, it is more than enjoyable. There are all the things, I think, that should be found in a rousing and properly exciting sea-faring adventure. Ships, enemies, friends, fights, cannons, a storm or two... There is always something going on, as well, with the perspective following Ben and Ned for starters [together or apart], the performing troupe in their captivity and sometimes even the baddies behind closed doors.

Some, including myself originally, may be a bit in the way of a doubting Thomas about reading yet another Jacques book, though. He has always provided action and pacing, but some of the later Redwall novels began to get a bit predictable. The first Castaways book felt like a Redwall in several ways. There were your main underdog [sorry Ned] protagonists, some supernatural help, a large seemingly overwhelming evil to face and some riddles. Voyage steers more clear of ilk, completely free of riddles and suspending the supernatural presence and assistance of the Angel for the main bulk of the text. [Basically, it bookends the story, with an appearance at the beginning and end.] True, Vanderdecken and the Dutchman appear throughout, but a psychotic evil Captain who got himself damned to an eternity of sailing and vowing to catch you and drag you along with him would be, I imagine, hard to shake.

Rip-roaring until the end, Voyage of the Slaves is an excellent piece of light reading, about perfect for summertime poolside. Just be carefull you don't doze too deeply lest you be chased by Vanderdecken as well.

The Book of Lost Things

2011-06-02T23:42:00.000-04:00

The Book of Lost Things
John Connolly

During the first world war, young David's life is turned upside down. In far too short a time, his mother dies, his father remarries, they move to the country to his Step-Mother's house and he gets a new baby brother. Angry and resentful, he finds himself drawn into a world filled with pieces of all of the fairy tales he knows and loves, but darker and scarier than he had ever imagined. Befriended by a woodsman and pursued by dreadful halfwolves and a Crooken man, David begins a quest to find the failing king of the land in hopes of getting home.

I'm not normally one for serious books [dunno if you've noticed that yet]. I'm also not normally one for grown up books [because they're usually serious or are of a rating I'd rather avoid]. What I do love, however, is a good fairy tale, even if it is dark. The best part? David does too.

As a young boy, his mother instills in him a love for reading, books and stories. When she grows ill, he puts this to use and reads aloud to her in her sickbed. When she dies, he takes this with him and hides from grief and reality in the books he so loves. He'll read most anything, but has a special heart for the fairy tales. The books speak to him [literally at some points]. Consequently, when he loses himself in another world chasing a voice that sounds like his departed mother, it is a world founded on so many of the stories that he learned as a boy.

But for readers expecting Shrek [or bleck, as I mentally call it on bad days], with punchy alterations to jazz up ancient tales for modern times, you will be sorely put out. The tales we find in the book are different from what we've come to learn--Snow White was poisoned by the dwarfs [who are quite possibly the only truly humorous thing to be found] and Red Riding Hood was a bit of a, if you'll pardon the perjorative term, creepy slut, to mention two. Within the novel's context, the changes for stories are explained by the presence of people from our world and their own lifestories. Being that our main character is a boy with severe emotional traumas living during something titled "The Great War," you can be sure that none of these changes are happy-go-lucky. If anything, the new versions David wanders into are more disturbing.

But [there are no cats in America], if you have trouble bearing with the disturbing imagries or haunting pieces of reality that come into focus through these youthful eyes, the writing might carry you onward of its own accord. Connolly does not drape the characters, scenes or settings in frippery suited for a girly tale with a handsome prince, shiny white unicorn and tall towers. His style is straightforward and honest, not pulling punches on physicality or gore while not allowing the same to overpower other aspects of the moment. The plain words are well-suited for David, who is a simple boy dealing with things too large for him to handle on his own.

And David himself? I love the boy. It breaks my heart, the things he goes through, but I am healed [teeny spoiler there] by the conclusion. [Please note, this book does not contain any sort of epilogue made of sugary sweet maple candy where everyone grows up, gets married and has perfect little children with silly names like Albus Severus which are bound to get them pummeled in school.] The ending isn't shiny, things aren't perfect, and things don't get fixed the way he wanted them to originally. It is just a good, solid conclusion.

In short, I loved this book despite it's grown-up serious behavior. It's a dark fairy story for grown-ups who understand that you need a little fantasy but it doesn't need to be fluff. [Subliminal message: READ IT]

--

Because I'm silly, I didn't start reading this book when I got it. It's a sad and childish issue, but when things are recommended to me, I develop a severe sort of resistance to reading or watching the item at hand. Truly, I have been quite disappointed before, but very rarely to the point of irritation or unhappiness. This book is, fortunately, precisely the opposite. The friend who gave it to me to read [saying he thought it sounded like something I might like and that it is one of his all-time favorites] is a bit off the beaten path in the brainpan--not to be offensive. He's just...I don't know, honestly. I want to use the word "alternative," but I'm not entirely sure what that connotes anymore. He's different from society in a way that does not always coincide with my own societal divergences. Inasmuch, I expected to read something interesting and politely say that "it was okay and I'm glad you gave me the chance to read something new." Instead, about two-thirds of the way through the book [at the time I assumed it was only half, but I discovered, upon finishing it, that the last chunk of the book is some extra reading and fairytales for the reader who isn't ready to put the thing down yet. Woo!] I texted Fritz and informed him that I was already planning on buying my own copy after I returned his.

Then I finished the book this afternoon.

It's a hard feeling, you know, to finish a book you've been reading with any sort of enthusiasm. The sensation is a mental feeling akin to the stomach drop you get while driving at speed over small hills in the road, for a while you're bouyed up and then suddenly everything changes direction. Some might be happy to have completed a novel--that seems to be what I find more common when at least reading about people finishing stories [in stories]. I, however, am a bit of an odd duck in that aspect, it would seem [should these stereotypes have any basis]. When I finish a novel in which I have been...involved, I am pensive. In some cases, there are moments of euphoria or joy when the couple comes together, the puppy is found, the world is saved, the bad guy is defeated [or converted], etc etc etc; more often than not, however, I find myself feeling let down. Like the ride I've been on has suddenly ended and I've got to get in line for another one, or worse, go home. It is not that I hide from reality in books, but I think my brain hides from my perspective of reality in books. In my world, I only see from my eyes, my mind, my experience. In a book, you get, even in a limited third person narration that only touches on the omniscient, more. The narrator tells you what is around David, as well as what he sees. He tells you what David is feeling, as well as how he is feeling, and in words written in black and white on a page, spelling things out for you.

I suppose what I am implying is that books give you a moment of clarity in this fuzzy chaos we call life. In books everything is mapped out, and, should you be a horrible person for whom there is no hope, you can even skip to the ending and try to learn without the journey [shame!]. Alas. If I ramble more on that here, I'll stop talking books and start bemoaning my own lot in life.

Be well, do good work, and keep in touch. [Garrison Kellior]

Jane Eyre

2011-06-01T16:14:00.001-04:00

Jayne Eyre
Charlotte Bronte

Jane's parents died when she was a baby, leaving her in the care of an aunt who believes her little more than a burden and sends her off to a distant school. At eighteen, comfortable with who she is but discontent where she is, Jane becomes the governess to the ward of a gentleman named Mr. Rochester. As fate would have it, she is to find her first true happiness in his love until a dreadful secret is revealed and changes their lives.

Okay, to be fair and honest, I went into this book dubiously. A lot of the people I know who like this book also really seem to enjoy Jane Austen. I don't know if you remember or know of my thoughts on Austen, but they're not all that positive. In fact, I rather dislike her writing. No--that's not fair. Her writing is fine. The style is inoffensive if obnoxious. Her characters, however, in the two books I have read are about as shallow as a damp napkin, though, and that was offensive.

I'm a bad English Major. Sorry, teachers.

But at least I enjoyed a classic, right?

Yes. I thoroughly enjoyed Jane Eyre. Thoroughly. [Does that help my case?]

Since I am so far out of Lit Crit, I'm stuck rampantly ROCing my case in support for this novel. Despite it being a narrative essentially about a teenager, a single female finding her way in this life and working through her first love, it is not horribly childish as I would fully anticipate a modern novel matching those criteria. To make it worse for my particular peculiarities, Jane is narrating the story herself from the future--that is to say, this is a first person narration. She is recounting it personably, as though over dinner or in a letter and lingers in the surroundings, in descriptions and actions that keeps the reader from hearing "I" about seventeen thousand times a page. A fair few of her internal monologues are not delivered as such, either. She she's talking to herself, she's talking to herself, as though holding a [largely] one-sided conversation.

As a character, I found Jane immensely interesting. She's emotional but controlled [I suppose it's a British thing--that doesn't seem remarkably common this side of the pond], passionate but deliberate. She is polite, but unafraid to speak her mind when the need arises. And yet, despite her willingness to speak up, she does very little outside the realm of her desired appearance. The depth of her character seems realistic, most of the time, and her interactions with peers and those outside her class are respectful and speak well of her attitudes.

[Sadly, to be honest, this has been languishing in the draft stage long enough, so we're just going to go ahead and throw this up.]

Throne of Fire

2011-05-10T07:57:00.002-04:00

Throne of Fire
Rick Riordan

Having broken off their body hosting of the gods Horus and Isis, Carter and Sadie Kane are back in Brooklyn training new recruits for the fight against chaos the hard way. And when Horus sends Carter a message from the Duat saying that Apophis is going to rise from his prison in five days, every second becomes more precious. With help from the few gods willing to lend it and the Entire House of Life magician core fighting against them, the kids must now find the three scrolls of Ra, wake him up and renew his nightly journey through the duat or, what else? The world will end.

Book two of the Kane Chronicles, GO.

No, seriously, that's how the book is. To get you up to speed, the narrators [both Sadie and Carter, if you do not remember or know] fill you in on Amos's recovery from the previous massive battle, the new recruits that have been showing up at the Brooklyn House and Carter's missive from the Gods all while attempting to break into a museum that isn't exactly as closed for the night as they would want it to be. Being that these are the Kane siblings we are talking about, you've also got to remember that something, anything, is bound to go wrong. Inasmuch, Sadie gets a flaming scroll stuck to her hand, there's an ancient Egyptian griffon released, and they are attacked by flaming demon souls that are trying to kill everyone. Charming.

But this is most of what the book is. Unlike the last, the kids have seemingly mastered the art of porting, so there are no road trips for talking, moping or exposition. The deadline seems to severely limit the pace to "breakneck" all the way, and there is very little pause [only in the fraction of a second it takes you to turn the page]. Please note, this is not a complaint. This is an observation. I wouldn't even say it is a hindrance to my enjoyment--quite the opposite. If memory serves, I believe that one of my issues with the previous Kane Chronicle is that it took too blasted long to get properly moving.

Actually, let's put this book into picture next to it's predecessor and see what we come up with...

Pacing: Better, as I have said. It's a solid run, but it's consistant and straight forward.

Narration: Better, hands down. While I must admit to having to pause and realign my brain to make sure I was reading the narrator as the correct sibling, I only had to do it once or twice throughout the text. I wouldn't say it's that he got the voices more distinct so much as the characters themselves had grown to the point of clarity so that the attitudes were more consistant and distinct.

Narration shift: Not quite as irritating as I recalled, but I couldn't tell you if that was because I grew acclimated to it at the end of book one or if Riordan changed his methods. It was just less offensive.

Sadie's Britishisms: Super-toned down. Carter even mentions that she is somewhat losing her accent after the time spent in the US. The most apparent thing to the reader will be that she isn't foisting overtly British words into her speech. Bloke and bloomign and so on do appear, but not constantly.

In comparison with PJ: I'll say it's making a better stand than the first did. Seeing that the stage is now set, there is less exposition to bog you down. Like the PJ series, it took a book to get it started and now we're on our way. Chances are, if you liked PJ and made it through the first KC, you are going to keep reading these. I personally enjoy them and will recommend them to age-appropriate crowds and adults with little hesitation.

Castle in the Air

2011-04-23T08:26:00.000-04:00

Castle in the Air
Diana Wynne Jones

Having lived alone in his carpet shop for years, Adbullah is startled to find himself sold a magic carpet that transports him to a garden where a beautiful princess lives. After several visits the two decide that they shall wed, but before they can escape together, a djinn steals Abdullah's bride-to-be away. He and the carpet fly make their way to the far land of Ingary to search for a way of rescuing her, and to avoid being caught and executed by any number of guards and bandits on the way.

I must start by saying that I feel moderately silly about this book, seeing as I didn't know it really existed until I gave a friend Howl's and she read it aloud to her baby, fell in love with the book and promptly ordered the "sequels." Now, if you've read and remember from a while ago here, I read what I laughed at being called a "sequel" to Howl's called The House of Many Ways. Now I'm the one being laughed at since House of Many Ways is actually the third book in the series with this, Castle in the Air being the second and making some of the connections from one through to three. [Like Howl and Sophie having a little one.]

But no matter. Back to this book.

Abdullah is, quite honestly, a standalone in this series since he is the main character and he's quite different an entirely obvious way--he's a dude. Not that this makes him any less believable or sympathetic, but he's actually already a man who has an established adult life in a completely different world--kingdom at least--from Sophie and Charmain who live in rather comparable lands. I have to admit, also, my imaginings of his home are almost entirely sourced from Disney's Aladdin, coupled with whatever other Arabic influences have made their way into my limited scope. Also, my mental Abdullah was shamelessly modeled after Rafi Gavron as Farid from Inkheart.

Like in the other two companion novels, Jones manages to create a sort of staged chaos for the story, where so much is going on that, if a less-experienced author was trying it, the novel might have devolved to unreadable silliness. Abdullah's quest for Flower-in-the-Night is only the beginning of his adventure, and his step into a larger world than his own. On his way he meets a disused soldier of a defeated world, a magical cat and her kitten, an attitudinal magic carpet and a sulky genie. The best part for the reader is that, once again, nothing is at it seems! Of course the magical cat and kitten are--oops--can't say. But things start getting familiar when he makes it to Ingary and becomes part of an effort to save, not only his princess, but all of the princesses captured by the djinn.

Honestly, there is nothing wrong with this book. It's fun and engaging, but just not as good as Howl's. You don't need to read any of these books to enjoy another, but there is absolutely no reason whatsoever that you shouldn't read all three.

The Lost Children

2011-04-01T08:39:00.004-04:00

The Lost Children
Carolyn Cohagan

The city of Gulm has been ruled by the master, a mysterious child that rescued them from a war by surrounding lands. Since then, all of the children are taken to stay with the Master, never to be seen again. Josephine is just a normal girl from a normal world who has somehow fallen into the world, and while she desperately wants to find her way home, she becomes entangled in Gulm's troubles with her two new friends, Fargus and Ida. Now, together, they have to find a way to save themselves as well as the other lost children of Gulm.

Have you ever picked up a novel and started reading it and got a few pages in and realized it was not going to be what you expected? This is one of those for me. I picked it up and started reading about Miss Josephine and how she lead a relatively inoffensive life, wearing gloves, suffering at the part of her peers, living with her silent father and reading voraciously, and though, "ah, it's going to be a cutesy little story about a girl who goes on and adventure." Half of that thought was right. It is, in fact, no cutesy little story. As soon as Josephine gets through, we are thrust into a dirty, creepy orphanage run by two dirty creepy people. We see her locked in a pigeon roost, dirtier with every description. Then we're introduced to the brothers.

The Brothers are the Master's strongmen, as it were. Well, they would be, if they were men, but instead they are creatures said to come from the Dark World, monsters with spikey fur, gooey yellow eyes and no mouths. This creeped me out just as much as it creeped out Josephine, locked away in her pigeon hole, with no idea as to what the heck is going on.

But yes, this is the dark world she arrives in. All the children are gone and the day is ruled by the brothers, and the night by the fear of the Master. And I really enjoyed it--the tension is maintained well, with disappearances and danger and so on, building and running and falling and stumbling and rushing and then suddenly--blammo. End. Sort of. Actually, for those in the know, it's the denoumount that fails us. But I can't really say more without giving too much away.

Cohagan has three lovely main characters and a few charming side characters [not to mention a moderately terrifying baddie], a couple of subtle cliches worked in well enough that they are inoffensive to any but the most cranky of readers, all rolled into an interesting read. If you're looking for a young, possibly sensitive, reader, though, you might want to skim just a little first.

Going Postal

2011-03-21T16:10:00.004-04:00

Going Postal
Terry Pratchett

After being saved from hanging to death by Lord Vetinari of Ankh Morpork, Moist Von Lipwig is granted a new lease on life as the city's postmaster. Having been a man abroad and then retained in a cell for some time, Moist was largely unprepared for the day to day challenges of mailslides, curses and the occasional deadly business rival. Running isn't an option anymore, and with a neurotic pair of misfit employees, a parole officer that never sleeps and his innate way with people, Moist has to make this work.

My initial introduction to Going Postal was not actually the books. As with Hogfather and The Colour of Magic [and The Light Fantastic], Sky 1 adapted it to a movie miniseries format. Initially, I was loath to watch before reading, but since there were still three to four books between me [not including] Going Postal at the time, and given the excellency of the adaptations thus far, I figured, "What the hay?" and watched it anyway.

I am not sorry that I did. I am sorry that the British owners have yet to see how much we Americans would like to have this on disc properly [Get with the programme folks! Americans love Pratchett, too!]

Of the adaptations thus far, I will say that Going Postal strays the farthest from actual plot structure, but maintains a marvelous level of character integrity, and a delightful number of direct text to dialogue moments. Though Jeremy Irons does not return as the patrician, the new man owns the role to a point that becomes mildly disconcerting [my roomie and I decided that they kept his hair light because if he so embodied the description and demeanor of Vetinari, our section of the multiverse might collapse from sheer weight of awesome]. The rest of the cast was spot on, and while it also had an air of a "this is your life" chick track, the package was highly entertaining with marvelous production standards shining at all times.

But, you know, the thought occurs to me that this post is actually supposed to be about the book. Unfortunately for oyu, it is Terry Pratchett. The man came into his own eons ago, and none of his books have disappointed me since Erik. Instead of keeping to one matching set of characters [Hahrry Pottah!] or a specific locality [Redwall?], Pratchett sees his created world as a whole and plucks his stories from anywhere he finds them, never really giving into the demands of regular strategies by shoehorning cameos. Yes, we are in Ankh-Morpork, but we hardly see the watch and the wizards are brought in through necessity--in essence, everyone we run into has a purpose native to the story at hand.

As for characters, there is no surprise to the fact that they are extremely round, deminsional, and to be honest, appealing. Terry Pratchett delivers such an interesting cast that fans, that I, would love the opportunity to step in and meet some! My list, for fear of my safety and life, is really rather short: Twoflower, the Vimes family and, of course, Carrot. Then again, there are characters that you'd quite like to meet--or at least see while not experiencing first hand, such as Foul ol' Ron or Nobby Nobs.

The Rise and Fall of Mount Majestic

2011-03-21T07:49:00.004-04:00

The Rise and Fall of Mount Majestic
Jennifer Trafton, author
Brett Helquist, illustrator

Life has, quite suddenly, become far more exciting for Persimmony Smudge. She was just chasing her had into the woods when she was set upon by a poisonous tortoise [uneducated readers, beware, they are nothing to laugh at] and forced to hide in a hollow log where she overhears a plot by the Leafeaters to tunnel under the king's castle and steal gold. At the castle, where she tells the king of the plot, she learns even more distressing news: the mountain at the center of the island--which rises until noon and falls until midnight, and always has, as long as anyone knows--is actually the stomach of a giant, sleeping beneath the surface. Now she has to prove that the giant exists, prevent a war and keep the rebels from waking up the giant and possibly killing them all. She's just not sure quite how to do this.

This is a novel that I have picked up several [dozen] times and put down one less than several [dozen] times. The main reason is because the plot--girl saves kingdom from unlikely doom of waking giant--wasn't sold to me by the book flap. Let's just say I was underwhelmed. And then a very good friend of mine, who happens to be a reader and a teacher, absolutely demanded that I read it. So I did.And I regret nothing.

Aside from not buying it the first time I found it. But that's beside the point.

As I finished it last night, it came to me that it felt familiar. Not in a unpleasant or cliche way, but more in the familiar just met an old friend kind of way. I stopped and had to think a few moments until I realized why it felt like this. Mount Majestic was just as sweet and simple and fantastic as The Tale of Despereaux and Howl's Moving Castle. Inasmuch, I'm stealing a phrase I used in describing Howl's. This book is filled with wholesome charm. Wholesome charm--this book makes you feel good when you read it. There's no didactic moral, no forced message, just a wonderful story of a girl going on an adventure with friends and a kingdom being saved from giants and people being people. If you learn that maybe you should take your time and maybe be a touch more courteous, there's nothing wrong with that.

Your main character here is, as the summation would imply, Persimmony. She starts the ball rolling, and even when not much is going on, she's constantly reviewing everything and revising how it should be. How she can save the world, how she could be brilliant, how this, that and the other thing could or should be different. Being someone who tends to live internally, I can appreciate how a lot of her thoughts go. [However, I'm not the daughter of a basketweaver in the forest, and I expect that daughters of accountants in suburbia don't have quite the break she might. Especially since we don't have poisonous tortoises or giving pots]. She's a bit of a dizzy dreamer, but completely endearing. Oddly enough, so is Worvil, her cohort in the trips. He's a little potato of a man whose worst fears are founded on things that might be, and lives in the uttermost terror of things that haven't even happened. But somehow, like Persimmony, you like him. Then there is King Lucas [the Loftier], Guafnoggle, Theodore, Persimmony's family, and the Leafeaters. There are too many wonderful people to communicate their importance here.

But there is a glossary in the back of the book. It is hilarious. And useful. Be sure to check it out.

The characters are charming, the creations are brilliant and the writing is so much fun that you'll want to read it aloud for no other reason than to just read it aloud. You might read it aloud to your cat [or dog, or roommate, or a friendly-looking wall], eagerly stumbling over the King's made up words or trying your hand at talking like Guafnoggle. Essentially, you will thoroughly enjoy this.

Tim Defender of the Earth

2011-03-09T17:13:00.003-05:00

Tim: Defender of the Earth
Sam Enthoven

In times of darkest troubles, or at uttermost need, Earth will not stand unprotected, and for the newest danger--a self-righteous scientist and his swarm of nanobots--it's new defender must stand tall. Tim, a genetically engineered t-rex has just escaped from his home bunker underneath London. With the aid of the Kraken [his predecessor], Chris [a self-pitying teenager aiming to stay out of line of fire of teasing] and Anna [daughter of said self-righteous scientist], Tim must put a stop to Mallahide's swarm of nanobots before they consume and convert the whole of the earth. But with the swarm perpetually growing and, to all appearances, invulnerable, what can a new warrior and two normal teenagers do?

There are books that, when you read them, you connect with them on a visceral level, feeling your minda nd soul stretch and expand with the unanticipated wisdom. There are book that, whether you like it or not, engage you on an emotional level, discovering a hardline connection to your tear ducts or funny bone. There are books that pour into your being and feel nothing more or less than real.

If you had not guessed it from either the title or the above summation, Tim [Defender of the Earth], is not one of those books. Quite the contrary, to be honest. Tim is a contrived and cheese-tastic camp-fest that reads like a young adult Syfy original motion picture inspired by Red Bull and late-night monster anime marathons. It is almost impressive how absolutely ridiculous the premise of thsi novel is--not manuy others would be so bold as to combine ancient artifacts, genetic engineering, dinosaurs, nanotech and teenage angst. This would be even more impressive had Enthoven managed to complete his slingshot around the awesome gravitational pull of terrible into the fan-filled realms of "so bad it is amazing and wonderful." Everyone knows or owns something like that; my personal favorite example is the film Surf Ninjas. [Find it. Watch it. Love it.] Unfortunately, however, Enthoven is dragged, kicking and screaming back into the world of "so bad it is--wait, no, it is just terrible."

The easiest explanation of this lies in the basis of it being a book: his writing. Technically, I suppose, there is nothing wrong about it. Then again, there's nothing wrong with painting a room off-white and trimming it in chocolate brown, either. It's just dull. [Not that I actually have anything against off-white and chocolate rooms, I have one myself and love it--I was just looking for a visual comparison.] I am not even sure if I could say that he had a style as an author, outside of his unfortuante use of italicized onomatopoeias instead of legitimate description. Instead of serving to provide accent, intensity or texture, I found these instances to be distracting or obnoxious. As for characters? It's hard to say if Tim, Chris or Anna is actually the main character from the set-up, and the fact that all three maintain a steady level of shallow existence bordering on being flatter than a pancake under a steamroller does not help. Any development experienced by said characters is stated without any preamble or, well, development.

Perhaps I should break from my description of the book, lest you decide that it isn't even worth a look. I don't support that attitude for anything I have ever read [that's actually kind of a lie, House of Sand and Fog made me feel literally quite ill and I will never recommend it ever, ever, ever], and hope that I should never have to condemn anything as unreadable [except House of Sand and Fog. Seriously.] This book, however far it may be from everlasting, is entertaining in a very specific venue. In fact, it's perfect for that sort of Saturday afternoon where you don't have anything particular to do and feel as though you want to read without having to apply yourself. Kind of like watching Syfy original movies. Personally, I did enjoy it and will enjoy passing it off to hear the reactions of others as they delve it's lack of depths.

We can't all be favorites, can we?

Argh argh argh

2011-02-23T15:24:00.002-05:00

Don't you love how I make this post about how I'm combining two blogs and am going to read more and blah blah blah blah...well, to be fair and honest, the combining of the two blogs isn't much of a promise because, to quote Jayne from Firefly, two times "nuthin' is...let me do the math here...nuthin' into nuthin'...carry the nuthin'..."

Well, you get the idea.

But my newest goal is to simply start posting again. Not necessarily anything remarkable, but to begin the process and build the habit. Something that has gotten me excited about the posting is the fact that I have finished two books in as many days. I started them well before, but I finished one [Monstrous Regiment, Pratchett] yesterday and another [Something Wicked This Way Comes, Bradbury] today. Then I have Slaughterhouse Five by Vonnegut sitting under Wind in the Willows by Grahame [bewildering combination, to be sure] on my night stand. Both are next to The Book of Lost Things, which will be backup should the book I just ordered not make it before I finish the other two. The book that's in the mail [hopefully today] is why I'm excited. You see, I know the author. I went to school with her. Not in the vague sort of, "we attended the same school as contemporaries but never actually met" sense, but rather the, "hey, we were in some of the same writing classes together and I've actually read a rough draft of the book that I'm getting in the mail in a couple days" sense.

I'm a touch excited.

I also have a leg up on the world at large, since it's the finished product of only the first half. Actually, I don't know. It might be a bit of a drawback at the same time since I only remember bits and pieces of the whole shebang...we'll see.

I'm still excited.

In the meantime, is there anything I should be posting? Would the world at large be interested in short stories [fiction]? Is there a subject upon which I should muse?

I don't know. We'll have to see as live moves on.

Night Watch

2011-01-29T13:11:00.002-05:00

Night Watch
Terry Pratchett

A lot has been going on for Sir Samuel Vimes of late. Not only is he hobnobbing with the gentry and running the watch, but Sybil's about to give birth to their first and there's been a psychopath roaming the streets and alleyways. Even worse, when in pursuit of said psychopath, Vimes and the man are transported back in time to his youth. Now, in order to reclaim his life, wife and future child, Vimes must step into the watch to do hsi job while trying to maintain the delicate balance of history.

Terry Pratchett is a master of his world and his craft. Not only has he created a multidimensional multiverse with its numerous gods, species, economies, histories...almost as indepth as our very own world. Were it not for the fantastical nature of the realm, I would be unsurprised to find it classified as contemporary realistic. In this, the umpteenth installment, Pratchett ventures into the darker side of life. Though it ends as well as can be expected, the whole atmosphere of the novel is, well, dark. It isn't as fluffy feeling as early Discworld, and it isn't as colorful [not in the perjorative sense, in the wacky sense] as even some of the novels closer to this one. This might be a decent introductory novel for people more adjusted to non-fantasy. Like so many moments in the entire series, it doesn't feel like you're reading a fantasy.

And not in a bad way.

I'll have you know, even though I've said it before, Samuel Vimes is my favorite character in this large, diverse and well-written world. Inasmuch, a book that is about Vimes made me a happy, happy camper.

Don't Judge a Girl by her Cover

2011-01-12T15:02:00.003-05:00

Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover
Ally Carter

At the end of summer vacation, Cammie joins her friend Macey in Boston where the girl's father is accepting his nomination as running mate for the presidential candidate. After the girls are lured onto a rooftop and attacked in an attempted kidnapping, they realize that everything they have and will study, must now be put together as they search for those behind it all.

This, the third book of the Gallagher Girls series by Ally Carter maintains the level of simple awesomeness that is this particular guilty pleasure of mine. Teenage girls growing up and dealing with school problems are not usually my cup of tea, but throw in some spy references, intrigue and a couple of fight scenes, and I'm hooked. Apparently so. Though Carter is not breaking any literary boundaries, her characters are as realistic and endearing as genius-level teenage girls can be. Seeing as I didn't anticipate enjoying the series at all, I think that's an excellent vote of confidence.

If you're willing, might as well read them. They are a lot of fun.

The Kane Chronicles: The Red Pyramid

2011-01-05T09:16:00.005-05:00

Today, I woke up probably around five or so and decided not to get up just yet. After sleeping another hour and a half, I got up and pulled on my hoodie. Normally, I don't wear the hood. No real reason, other than I don't generally have a reason to do so. It's not a bias or something. This particular morning, however, as I slid the hoodie on, the hood just fell into place over my head and, seeing no reason to reveal my tired ears to the early morning cold, I left it. It is now twenty after nine, and I have yet to put the hoodie down. Part of it is because I know it will still be a mite chilly. The main reason is because I kind of look like I'm from a secret society while wearing it.

Hee.

To the book!

The Red Pyramid
Rick Riordan

After their mother died, Carter and Sadie Kane were split up, Carter with their father and Sadie with their mother's parents. But when their father brings them together for a trip to the British Museum and dies in the supernatural explosion of the Rosetta Stone, they are inducted into a world intertwined with the ways and beings of ancient Egypt. With intermittent help from an estranged Uncle, an ancient magician and an enthusiastic cat goddess, the siblings must come face to face with their destiny and gods from eons past to save their world and one they never suspected was real.

When I first sat down and started Percy, I didn't like it. I don't often care for first-person narration, especially when the narrator starts out by telling me that I should not be reading the book and I am already in danger. I don't know if it insults my sense of reality, or if I just have a stubborn streak regarding direct orders from fictional children. Maybe a bit of both. So when Carter begins the tale with telling me I'm in danger, it starts me out on a sour note. Then, when the book jumps to Sadie's narration, I scowl a bit more. Not just one first-person narrator. Two. Two bickering siblings interrupting each other in parenthetical remarks and jerking perspective between them.

I was not excited.

Then the story began to pick up speed. We were acquainted with the background basics, learned the situation and started the long-haul for the finish line, whatever it would be. The siblings' voices were, to me, somewhat difficult to distinguish at first, and Sadie's "Britishism" felt entirely forced. Fortunately, as I adjusted to the flow of the project, the shift [every two chapters] became less obnoxious.

As for the story itself, well, I have a bit of a soft-spot for Egypt. Indiana Jones introduced me to the wonders of the desert when I was younger, including but not limited to the films--I owned the Young Indiana series [ Thefirst seven to nine books, I want to say. They were then donated and later destroyed when the basement library was flooded. Foo.], and my favorite was probably the one in which Indy finds himself trapped in a tomb and rescued by the spirit of the inhabiting royalty. The love-affair continued with the generally cool nature of pharoahs, pyramids, and a favorite book of mine called The Egypt Game, by Zilpha Keatly Snyder. Then the world was reintroduced to The Mummy by Brendan Fraser and Co. And one of my best friends from high school and running is rather a fan of the histories of the country and kingdom. Oh, and I would be loath to forget the attachments through Stargate SG-1. Seriously.

Inasmuch, I had a basis in loving the Egyptian mythos; and recalling the tender loving respect Riordan demonstrated for such things in Percy, I knew that end of things was in good hands. That meant, then, that all I had to worry about was my narrators and non-historical folks trotting about the text. Again--no worries. I found Sadie and Carter to be obnoxious siblings making their way through an unbelievable adventure in a believable way. Once we set up Sadie as the pushy dare-devil and Carter as the more withdrawn, and found ourselves able to stop pointing it out every five minutes, they fell into place and interactions were executed naturally.

I cannot say if it is because I am older than the target crowd or not, but I find these adventures to be enthralling, entertaining and somewhat predictable. The major reveal at the end [don't think I'm going to tell you, kids. You've got to read it for yourself] fell somewhat flat for me. The story built and grew and concluded and set itself up for its sequel neatly enough, and having noted the "one of the Kane Chronicles" note on the cover, I didn't even have to feel the disappointment of one more author setting himself up for a series. I was prepared.

But still.

If you liked Percy, you will probably enjoy it. It isn't as engaging or action packed, I want to say, but this is an intro book. We have the world now prepared and laid before us, so perhaps, like with the other series, The Kane Chronicles will come into their own as the next books are released. Be aware, however. It's a big book with two narrators, so give yourself a decent chunk to acclimate before deciding against it.

Two-thousand-ten, Five Hundred...

2011-01-03T19:15:00.003-05:00

Four Hundred and Ninety-nine books on my shelves.

Not long ago, a couple months at most, I realized that I was closing in on a total of five hundred books, and thought, "Hey! Wouldn't it be cool to get up to five hundred books before the end of the year? Yeah, it totally would!" So, while I was not allowed to go out of my way to acquire new books, working on behaving myself financially and all that, I certainly did not avoid the situations where the possibility was present. Things were looking dicey, though, as we got closer, until my roomie stumbled across a collection of severely discounted novels [I got two, I think she got more], and then a coworker passed on four that he had tried to read but could not get into. Closer still. Then Christmas and birthday presents. Down to needing four.

Four.

Before I go to far, I must tell you something about myself. I love books--this much you may have already gathered. What I find difficult to explain, however, is how being surrounded by books makes me feel. Libraries, book stores, it does not matter. Walls of shelves lined with books function as a sort of security blanket or favorite teddy bear. It might even be stronger, almost like coming home after a long day and getting to collapse on a bed or couch surrounded by nothing but your own fortress of solitude. There we go--that's books. A fortress of solitude. They are old friends that I may or may not have ever met, greeting me with a reassuring smile that tells me they have not and will not change through the years. They promise to be nothing but themselves and enjoy my company as I leaf through their pages and hold their covers.

So, as a rule, any amount of books will help me relax. This goes double for my personal collection which I store on my shelves in the basement, with the added bonus of the fact that my father and I built them together. I have been known to sit in the basement after a long, lousy day and just bask in the fictitious glow of my library. It's a motley collection of books I've adopted or inherited from family, been given or bought for myself, or found sitting in a box of freebies. For the most part, I have selected the books myself consider the process a fairly personal one, like a sort of interior design for the soul. But, as it is with most things, some days you just find yourself unable to cope with such an opportunity.

The thirtieth of December, 2010, was one such moment for me. I had two Barnes and Noble gift cards burning a hole in my wallet and a potential four-book-push-to-five-hundred burning a hole in my brain, but I had had such a lousy day at work that I could not find anything that I wanted to buy. In the movies and music department, I looked at several things that I had wanted for months or more, but it was almost like in the books when you read about characters eating something after a tragedy or when they are fatigued beyond expectation...the metaphorical taste was no more than sand in my mouth. I was less enthused for each item. I mentioned it to my roomie, who was with me, and we hashed it out to the fact taht maybe it was just movies and music. Maybe I just really wanted to buy books. So I headed over to my usual haunts in the book departments and could not find anything that even looked interesting, to read let alone buy.

I went home, more tired and depressed than I had arrived and spent the rest of the day with my friends.

The next morning was, well, a new day, however. A visiting friend and I had an early morning coffee date at Starbucks [7:15, a surprisingly good time to go!] where we enjoyed our yuppie coffees and beakfast sandwiches over a couple games of Quiddler. It was fabulous. I finally felt relaxed, as though that one night and his visit were helping to wash away all of the stress that had been building for the past months. On our way out the door, he bought my mother a coffee to bring home for her, and despite this, I asked if we could swing by Barnes and Noble on the way home. I had thought of a book to buy.

It wasn't one I needed. It wasn't a favorite author, or an eternal classic that I needed to own. It was a guilty-pleasure novel, a teenaged girl spy novel, the third in a series that, despite my crankiness, I love. We go in, and I head straight-away to where I think it will be. Unfortunately, however, it is not. I've got to find it, and quickly because there's a hot coffee waiting to be taken home. But it's a book store, and unlike the previous day, I can feel it's comforting arms wrapping around me, asking me to stay and share a tale. But-but-coffee!

But-but-but-BOOKS.

You can guess what has the stronger hold.

After twenty minutes, I had three books in my hand and Mikey was insisting we get out of there before A: the coffee got cold and B: he spent money he didn't have. I looked at the books in my hands, and then back at the shelves. Yes, I had the book I came for [it only took a few minutes of focused hunting, but that's something hard for me to achieve in a book store], but I only had three out of four for the five hundred count. So close!

But somehow it stopped mattering. Who cares how many books I have, as long as the library remains mine to gather and nurture and share?

So here I am, starting out 2011 with 499 books. At some point in the near future, I think I'll even thin out the collection slightly, pulling things I don't want or need. Maybe cutting down on duplicates [but not the Hobbit copies. Not ever] or something.

Quality not quantity.

And not content for this post.

The Crowfield Curse

2010-12-27T13:08:00.002-05:00

The Crowfield Curse
Pat Walsh

When his family died in a fire, William was taken in by the monks and has remained at the abbey, working for them. He finds himself rescuing an odd creature that speaks and calls itself a hob, he has had little reason to suspect that there is any more to life than what is seen by all. But after this rescue comes another unexpected event, visitors in the abbey and strange happenings all around. With little warning, the boy and his new friend the hob are thrust into a dangerous game involving a dark secret kept by the monks, and a dark fay king set on having his way.

As has happened before, I was taken in by this book's cover. I hope you can understand that, because, I mean, look at it--the cover is beautiful. Here, in this 2d representation on your computer screen, it isn't so evident, but the cover is embossed [dry embossed--pressure on the paper with a stylus in a template] and certain parts, like the watching creatures' eyes, of it are accented with a metallic glossy red for emphasis. Its simplicity and stark silhouettes attract the eye. The shiny eye and blood touches didn't hurt either.

I had little idea what exactly I was picking up when I began to read. I was anticipating, perhaps, something akin to 13 Treasures with full-on fantasy realms and little dealing with the real world. I had forgotten it's archaic setting [1300's, isolated and borderline desolate abbey] and was even more surprised to find myself reading a story set in our world, in a Christian abbey, that treated Christianity respectfully. True, many of the monks were hard and singleminded, but they were not an evil bunch, nor malignant. They were tired, cold and hungry men dedicated to living their faith in their way. Those fellows you saw shine beyond the stern monk framework were not rebels, but rather good-hearted and loving men more willing to participate in the reality about them. I am not saying that I anticipate all fantasy writers to be antagonistic about the church.

Well, I'm not saying it now. I've seen enough negativity that I suppose it's just easier to expect the worst and be delighted when something more pleasant is delivered, either from the Church in talking fantasy or in fantasy talking Church. I find myself almost enjoying this set up more than worlds that merely avoid talk of God, with Walsh building fay and faith as interlocking pieces and one Creator above them all. Having recently been delving into L'Engle's time-twisting series as well as being a long-time supporter of Narnia, I was struck by how the authors expand our "knowledge" of our world and God to include things that are fantasy. You see, when I was younger and had decided that, not only did I want to write, but I wanted to write fantasy, I was concerned that I could not legitimately combine these magestic realms of my mind. I don't recall anyone going out of their way to say "fantasy is evil," but it had not been deeply included in my upbringing and I worry over everything anyway. Then I learned a bit more about Narnia and its author, and I found myself more relieved and enthralled than ever before. True, many "Christian" fantasies are didactic and many "athieist" fantasies are antagonistic, but there is no reason that we cannot combine our dreams and our faiths in a simple story that is exactly that: a story.

I'm rambing at this point, but happily. I am eager to lend The Crowfield's Curse to my friends and hear their input as well. Most likely when I get it back, I'll read it again.* The book was well-written and had a couple of characters that I would love to meet, and I look forward to trying some more of Pat Walsh's writing.

*This is, I hope, not an offensive habit for my friends, but whenever I recieve a book that has been loaned out, I have to read it again almost immediately. I don't think it's to make sure everything came back whole and clean, but I'm not sure that isn't the case, either.

An entry with purpose but little content.

2010-12-24T10:06:00.004-05:00

When did it get to be Christmas? Working in a craft store, it's been around since October, but now it's over and everything is going to slide hazily into Easter. Working in the office is even more confusing, since I have to back-date half of the stuff I'm doing because it's from the day before and that really messes with my already lackadaisical time-tending skills.

But it is Christmas. It's the tail-end of Christmas Day, even, and we got home from our traditional Pittsburgh daytrip about an hour ago. I don't know where I am in my head, though. I tell myself not to get built-up for the holidays, not built-up or burnt-out, but it still happens somewhere along the way. Perhaps part of it is the craft store holiday prep-time. Perhaps part of it is my desperation to prove that I won't let said prep-time kill my Christmas joy. I don't know. Either way, I finally hit Christmas day and all I have is exhaustion.

Presents change hands. People open them. I'm happy to see that they appreciate what they have been given, and then feel like a jerk because I'm not excited about what I've been given. I didn't want this, or that's something I just bring myself to care about. I already knew about this, or oh, good, something I don't want to eat but will because it's polite. And on top of that, one of the silliest traditions we have had for the past I would guess decade, not even an intentional effort, was not done. It was stupid, but it broke my heart. I didn't say anything.

Aren't these people my family? Well, yes. But that almost makes it a stronger sense of betrayal not to appreciate the items. And then with that looming in my mind, I have trouble appreciating the time we spend together.

As for the real reason for the season, I understand it. I know it, in my head. Jesus came and was born for our saving, to take care of us and bring us back to God. My brain says this is why this holiday exists. But I don't care. I don't care about seeing my family, about presents or special foods or special days. Nothing feels like Christmas anymore, nothing feels like there is a reason or purpose anymore. I am just tired.

And thus I sit in a pool of slime in my head, like Howl in his tantrum. Wallowing in a mixture of apathy and anger at said apathy. I cannot figure out when or how my heart disappeared, how I lost my child-like wonder of which I was so proud. I can still feel my love for my family--it has never left. Unfortunately, it seems as though I cannot honestly celebrate it anymore. Christmas isn't the cause, it's just one more example.

Maybe I just need a break from existing. I'll take a couple of days off and disappear up to a friend's house in the middle of nowhere. She has work or school, so I can bum around completely alone while she's gone. Will it help? Will it make it worse? Who knows.

Sorry to be a downer, but this has been on my mind for quite some time, and now seemed the time to get it out of the system.

In other news....

The past few months have been crazy in that helter-skelter kind of way that you realize has happened when you stop and try to remember exactly what was occupying your time. You pause with that vaguely frustrated and lost expression as you internally recount everything that has happened [to your memory], but all that comes up are little things that should not have taken much time at all. And so it goes.

Over this period of time, I came to a conclusion. I will not be recording the books I read the same way as I have been on this blog [if in the distant past], because I do go through these bouts of time where I read five or six books in a few days and do not care to stop and force myself to recall everything I've wanted to say. Part of this is because I finish one to immediately pick up another, part of it is that I finish one at work and pick up a different one at home. Then, by the time I take a moment to realize that I'm behind, I do not feel enough of the book still floating about in my head to do it justice. Inasmuch, this blog [almost spelled bolg, like the goblin king that isn't Jareth] is being moderately repurposed. Instead of being strictly books, I will be combining it with my other blog [currently called Under the Lamppost], and be posting my thoughts intermittently throughout the books which I prefer remain the focus. I hope that after Christmas I can step up and talk about one or two of the books I'm into now [including but not limited to Slaughterhouse Five, The Idiot, and Swiftly Tilting Planet and just finished another readthrough of Howl's Moving Castle, which is currently a major favorite]. I cannot even specifically recall which others I've read in the time. Alas!

Spiderwick Chronicles

2010-09-30T17:28:00.004-04:00

The Spiderwick Chronicles
Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizzi

After their parents split, the Grace children move with their mother into her Aunt's home. In almost no time at all, Jared, his twin Simon and heir elder sister, Malory, discover that the house has a past thoroughly entwined with the fairy world around it. And when Jared opens up and reads Arthur Spiderwick's Field Guide, the family is thrust into the supernatural. Things go from bad to worse as the kids are forced to adapt to a new home as well as defend themselves from the dreaded Mulgarath, who is determined to get his claws on the guide.

I know that, on a technical level, I already reviewed the first two books. I did, however, declare that the books were not really sufficient on a stand-alone basis. The stories were more episodic and incomplete than in, say, the Harry Potter series. One could easily read Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone without having to finish the series and not suffer greatly [not that I suggest it, the series is well worth the effort]. These five novels, however, are more suited to be "books" in the sense of a division of the whole story that is greater than chapters but not individual stories within the series. Consequently, I was thrilled to discover the description of "serial" applied to them. Quite apt. All that gabble to say, this is a commentary on the "series" as a whole.

Being written for a younger audience, the books are quite easy for adults to read, but the content of character, creature and world development should be more than enough for any grown-up fantasy fan to enjoy. Black and DiTerlizzi capture within their story the all-too familiar world in which humanity has overrun the fantastic races and beings that came before, and we see, through the Grace family, how certain members of the old world are making their way in the new. They don't shy away from numbers, either. We meet elves, dwarves, goblins, an ogre, a brownie/boggart, a hobgoblin, a gryphon, some dragons and even a phooka [though not named Harvey]. While we do not get to know them all very well, DiTerlizzi captures the scenes with his artwork brilliantly. His style is sketchy but detailed, largely black and white but nevertheless gorgeous. Alongside the easy prose, these pictures are what I would say make the book excellent for read-alouds.

And while it is a fantasy novel, the real world is anything but short changed. With the background of the parental breakup, a move and an anger issue, the Grace children are very real and interact as siblings should--alternately bickering and caring. [Personally, I tended to identify with Jared and his waves of anger overriding all sense...don't judge me!] Through their interactiosn with each other and their adventures, we do get to see the Grace children grow up together and individually.

Honestly, I don't have much else to say, aside from the fact the books were fun. I'd say allow for about an hour to read them each as an adult, just so you can take your time to enjoy the characters, creatures and illustrations that pull it all together. And you should probably make sure you have access to them all before you start reading. I'm happy to have them on my shelves and hope to get to read them aloud to someone some day. I just have to wait for my friends to have kids.

As for the movie? Well, the film itself is gorgeous and Freddie Highmore did a good job as both Simon and Jared. Sarah Bolger portrayed the feisty fencing Mallory Grace with flare and attitude appropriate to the role. The spooky thing is how well the kids all looked the part--Bolger and Highmore both matched the illustrations, almost spot on. As for the CGed characters that populate the world? Like I said. Gorgeous. Martin Short was brilliantly cast as Thimbletack, bouncing between the contented rhyming and crazed shouting with seamless vocals. And Hogsqueal? Hilarious. Seth Rogen is an excellent voice actor.

Yes, they toyed with the film and relocated the final battle, and details were changed surrounding the Grace's arrival along with other small things, but the story is, in essence, captured. I would be unsurprised to find that Black and DiTerlizzi were heavy players in the creation of the film. The kids' struggle to deal with the massive reality shift is just as evident in Jared's attacking of the fender of Mom's van in the film as it was with him squeezing the air out of Thimbletack in the book. Details were changed. The core was not.

I honestly like the film more than the books, but not by much. They're both excellent and just scary enough to keep it interesting for the younger audience.

Also, Nick Nolte was a fabulous choice for Mulgarath.

A Hat Full of Sky

2010-09-15T09:38:00.005-04:00

A Hat Full of Sky
Terry Pratchett

Since Tiffany Aching has begun her journey of becoming a witch, she must travel and apprentice herself to an experienced witch. Away from her homeland of Chalk, she finds herself living with Miss Level, a single person born, not of two minds but rather two bodies. While learning with Miss Level in the day to day, Tiffany continues to practice an ability she discovered where she says "See me" and steps outside her body. It is during one of these sessions in which her body is taken by hiver and she is pushed into a corner of her mind while it possesses her. Now, with the help of the loyal Nac Mac Feegles, Miss Level and even Granny Weatherwax, Tiffany must fight a battle that no one before has ever won, and send the hiver packing without dying in the process.

I'm pretty sure that I've said before that, while Vimes is my favorite character from this world, the witch stories are my favorites. I'm beginning to wonder if that, among the witch stories, the Tiffany Aching chronicles are my favorites. Part of this is the fact that I love stories about, centered around and viewed through children because it is a completely different way of thinking. And while many people choose to keep the writing style and presentation young, Pratchett is more practical and straightforward than this. He knows that kids are very real people dealing with the very real problems of identity, self-confidence, and life and death, and he does not warp or sugarcoat any of this. Tiffany is not only learning how to be a witch, but also how to be herself and face everything that may come at her.

Also bringing this book's level of awesome up to eleven is the continued presence of the Nac Mac Feegles, the fiercely loyal, roudy and incorrigble blue thieves that attached themselves to Tiffany in Wee Free Men. They exist in a madcap and roiling cloud of heartwarming hilarity, even during their serious moments as heading out to warn and rescue Tiffany, with little to no hope for themselves.

With the brilliance he was blessed with, Pratchett once again manages to combine a rip-roaring adventure, a sort of coming-of-age story, and an exploration of the self as well as connections to and the very concept of home. Somehow, he balances this with humour and pacing and churns out what I maintain is one of his best books yet.

But I've still got nine ye olde Discworlds and two more Tiffany Achings to read before I would chance a determination as to "best." Even then, it won't be accurate. I'll have a top five and they'll take turns being best in my mind.

Hopscotch

2010-09-13T20:12:00.002-04:00

Hopscotch
Brian Garfield

Miles Kendig has spend his professional life working for the CIA, but now he's been forced into retirement. Instead of acquiescing, however, he decides to start a game to prove that it was their mistake. Setting himself up off the grid, he begins to lead the agency in a merry chase as he publishes, chapter by chapter, the memoir of his exploits. He has few doubts that he can stay ahead of his coworkers, but perhaps a man that he helped train himself, Joseph Cutter, will give him a challenge.

I've never been one to profess a fascination with reading spy novels. In truth, I've read very few [especially once you get out of the YA bracket], and really only know spy fictions from the movies. Don't get me wrong, I love James Bond [movie-wise, don't know any books yet], and thoroughly enjoy the films, but, unfortunately, some of the gratuitous violence is off-putting. Inasmuch, part of the brilliance of this novel is that it is an exercise of wits to the end. There are no spectacular gunfights with torture or violence; it is a game of chess, and like a true master, Kendig is planning his moves well ahead of time.

The prose is excellent--well-paced, straightforward and just descriptive enough to bresent the context for the scene without going overboard. What I consider to be the three main characters, Ross, Cutter and Kendig [of course] are well-developed as agents and characters, so that the reader is given free reign to appreciate them as actual people. I happened to grow rather fond of them...however, it took me some time to really allow the book to lead my perceptions. Why?

Because the movie Hopscotch [1980] has been a favorite of mine for at least a decade. I don't remember exactly when my mother introduced me to it, but I was smitten. Walter Matthau stars as Miles Kendig in this spy-gone-rogue film, which took the serious tone of the novel and turned it upside down and sideways into a comedy. The premise is the same, with Kendig leaving the agency for the forced retirement, but here he is anchored by a love interest in Austria. Cutter is far more genial and Ross is somewhat less intelligent seeming. And while, yes, it's hilarious, the heart of the book remains; probably because Garfield himself worked out the screenplay when no one else could step up to the plate.

The book is brilliant and the movie is beyond hilarious. Read one and see the other. I highly recommend both.

The 13 Treasures

2010-09-08T16:36:00.004-04:00

The 13 Treasures
Michelle Harrison

Tanya's summer hasn't started well. After a brief encounter with fairies putting her on the ceiling and damaging her light fixture, her mother decides that it is time for her to spend some time away from home for a bit of a break. Unfortunately for Tanya, however, her grandmother's house in the country is practically crawling with the mischievous fey. On top of that, she finds herself drawn into a search with the son of the groundskeeper for the answers to a decades-old missing person case. Neither of them are prepared for how dangerous or magical their search will become.

When I picked up this book at the store [Barnes and Noble, folks--I love it; I'm an addict; I need help, but I don't want it.], I picked it up because the cover was pretty and shiny and immediately caught my eye. The blurb on the flap further ingratiated the novel to me, though I anticipated it to be kids fantasy fluff, and I purchased the novel. It took me around two to three months to get around to actually picking up the novel and reading it, and when I did it was more out of "I am going to be in the car for seven hours today and then seven hours again two days later--I better pick up something more than half an inch thick." So I eyeballed my books and figured, "What the hay," and added it to my small collection for the weekend.

I would like to point out that I officially read this book over the span of two days. Twenty pages one day, everything else the next. Needless to say, I didn't have it to read on the way home.

The most pleasing aspect of this novel is that it was not written like a fantasy adventure, but rather it is presented as a mystery with the focus being the children's search for the answers surrounding the original disappearance and Fabian's [the groundskeeper's son] insane grandfather. While yes, there are fairies and gobliny-things mucking about the place, Harrison spends ample time preparing the reader for the following events, providing clues and opportunities to learn things with Tanya. The rumours are provided, the news is heard, and we follow her as she sneaks around this crazy old house, trying to avoid tense situations with her grandmother all the while.

Tanya herself is a well-developed character who has a delightful blend of cleverness and determination capped off by an all-too-realistic petulance that comes from being a misunderstood youth. The fortunate aspect of her character is that this familiar trait is somewhat tempered by the fact that she is largely too busy to sit about and whine for pages on end, and the reader is constantly moving with her through the house and forest, enjoying the beautiful setting of the story.

And while I am no great fan of horror or most suspense [I swear, media will give me hypertension!], this book has a delightful level of creepiness. Just right for the reader who appreciates something that makes him or her curl up under the blankets and screw their eyelids shut to block out the darkness for a moment or two.

All in all, I fully anticipate revisiting and sharing this book with many friends. In fact, I've already started--sharing, that is.

The Enchanted Glass

2010-08-31T22:07:00.007-04:00

Enchanted Glass
Diana Wynn Jones

As a child, Proffessor Andrew Hope knew that his grandfather could do magic--real magic, and was a very important man. But now that he has inherited the man's house, Andrew realizes that there was a lot more going on around him on those visits than he knew. With a housekeeper who likes things to stay the way they were, a groundskeeper who only has eyes for his vegetables and a runaway who is being pursued by mysterious creatures, more than just his life hinges on figuring out how to handle this new magical chapter in his life.

This summary was a hard one to write, because the cover of the book does not show Andrew, but rather Aiden, the runaway who lost his grandmother and, to all appearances, his grandmother's magical protection when she died. But don't judge a book by it's cover, right? Right. Then look at it this way: the story is almost evenly divided between time with Aiden and time with Andrew. So who is the story actually about? Since the text is in the children's section, and the style is unadulteratedly for a youthful mind [which does not proclude an adult, thank you very much], it feels as though Aiden should be, in fact, your lead. But this story at least, there may yet be sequels because she left it open enough to pick up the threads again [but not in the obnoxious hack "I AM WRITING A SEQUEL HERE" kind of way], the lead is, in fact, Andrew. He is the one who inherits the house, who has to protect the house, who has to figure out what on earth is going on and, in the end, save the day.

Don't get me wrong. Aiden is there, every step of the way, showing the reader a bit more of the world they are in. He also ends up being part of the problem, however. Not through any virtue of his own control, but rather because he's a kid who doesn't know who he really is. Part of the story right there, yeah. It also doesn't matter who the focus is, because Jones has created a cast of characters who are quirky and entertaining. Mrs. Stock, the housekeeper thinks Andrew is an absent minded professor and Aiden is a stomach on legs who will eat them out of house and home. If they do things she does not appreciate [like moving the piano do a different spot in the room], she punishes them with a dish called "cauliflower cheese." Now, I like cauliflower, and I like cheese, but something about the way she doesn't actually tell you what it entails puts the fear of it in me. It's almost got to be some sort of casserole of gooey doom. Alongside her is Mr. Stock [no relation], who has his revenge in bringing cartons of over-sized and under-flavored vegetables that won't make the cut at the fair. Aiden himself is really just a normal kid who is pleasant, kind, and curious enough to sneak around and find things out on his own while not alienating his new caregiver.

These are really just the every-day characters at the beginning. More appear quickly, but are never overwhelming. The book is no philosophical masterpiece, but rather an example of a simple story, maybe even a fairy story, with people and a tale to enjoy. I know that I used the word in the last review, and it is even in title of the book, but Diana Wynn Jones' writing is simply enchanting. Delicately weaving her web of words over this quaint English countryside, Jones incorporates magic so subtlely that it never feels anything but normal for Andrew to be able to take off his glasses, polish them and then push the furniture about with his mind. It is just as natural that the vegetables left out on the shed should be eaten nightly by an unknown magical creature of some immense height. And it only makes sense that when Aiden, the runaway, should join the family and find a dog, the dog is far more than what it seems.

Okay, let's be realistic here. She got me with Howl's Moving Castle. She held me with The House of Many Ways. And now, having read and adored a third book of hers, I will happily say that Diana Wynn Jones is going to be on my shelves forever.

*This post should really be subtitled: Or a love-letter to the writings of Diana Wynn Jones.

The Boggart

2010-08-31T18:17:00.004-04:00

The Boggart
Susan Cooper

Emily and Jessup always figured themselves to be a pair of normal teens living a normal life until their mother inherits a castle from a distant relative in Scotland. After they visit and come back home, however, the kids find out that they inherited a bit more than the building and furnishings. A boggart, a mischievous creature straight out of the myths, is trapped and shipped with Emily's rolltop desk. Having been living in a castle with no modernity, the boggart immediately begins acclimating himself to the new toys of technology and wreaking absolute havoc on the family. And now the kids have to get the boggart home before things get too crazy.

Susan Cooper is not an uncommon name in the library circuit, best-known, perhaps, for her Dark is Rising series, this book was not only my introduction to her, but a staple through elementary school and something I revisited off and on thereafter. Until only a month ago, however, I did not own it. Thank God for little second-hand bookstores filled with unexpected treasures, right? Right.

While all of the humanoid characters are pleasant and relatable, one of the most enchanting aspects of this novel is the depiction of the boggart itself, within its home castle. A nameless, genderless spirit thousands of years old, witness to history itself, not only of the castle but the land surrounding. It is, in a sense, emotionless. Yet, at the same time, when it finds an emotion, it is overcome--to the point of hiding and sleeping for days or weeks [it has the ability to sleep for decades, if the fancy strikes]. Without being human in feeling, the creature manages to be easy to connect with. Especially after the charm of the new world wears down to the nub.

The story is deliberately paced, walking the reader through introductions and establishing the settings while steadily moving through the the plot. As with other texts that were favorites from childhood, this did not hold up quite as well as I might have hoped. Aside from being heavily dated technology-wise [the desk-top was a black and white screen, and I have a splendid recollection of DOS programs that supply amusing filler for how it must have been intended to appear], the text is almost too simple and too easy to read to be enjoyable at advanced leisure reading. Not being a particularly difficult novel, it is not something that a reader will have to dig through, but rather glide along. Though I mentioned I enjoyed it years afterward, I would say it was as a refuge from the reading or scholastics at the time. For purely "heck, I'll read that one again" material...it's lacking.

But if you haven't experienced it, Cooper is fun. Someday I'll read that Dark is Rising series and really get what she's about as a published writer. Or something like that. If you're in fourth or fifth grade, it might just be something you'd enjoy.

The Fifth Elephant

2010-08-02T17:24:00.002-04:00

The Fifth Elephant
Terry Pratchett

Samuel Vimes is not only the commander of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, but also a Duke of the city. Unfortunately, this makes him the perfect candidate when Vetinari is selecting an Ambassador to go out to Überwald for the dwarfs' coronation of their new Low King. But as things unravel, in the city and on the journey, Vimes begins to suspect that his background of policing may be more use than he expected. With three different powers, dwarfs, werewolves and vampires maintaining a tenuous peace at best, a coronation might be the best time to tip the apple cart in someone's favor, and Vimes, whether he likes it or not, will not rest until he knows just what is going on.

Vimes has pretty much become my favorite character in the Discworld, though I think my favorite books are still the ones with the Witches. I love Vimes because he is, in many ways, a very simple man. At his core, he is a flawed but heartily dedicated "copper." This follows him everywhere, and when he becomes a diplomat/ambassador it is barely disguised by his ducal garb--kind of like Bruce Willis across the board. He might play various characters, but he is always, always, Bruce Willis. It is unavoidable, yet part of the charm. It is also what gets him in to trouble with his city, his coworkers, his wife and, well, everyone.

Hence the book. Only in this book, unlike the others, Vimes can't pull out his badge and say that he's got the right to say things. He has to be diplomatic and learn to read the powers that be in Überwald, and, in a sense, learn how to play the political game while still saving everyone's bacon.

If you could not tell, A: the book is Pratchett playing with the themes of governments, power and beauracracy, and B: I have no idea how to review a Pratchett novel anymore. Move along now.

Neverwhere

2010-08-01T17:40:00.004-04:00

Neverwhere
Neil Gaiman

Richard is just a normal bloke trying to make it through his less-than-exciting life, doing his job, remembering his fiance's engagements. But when he stops to help a wounded and bleeding girl, everything is turned upside down. The girl he has rescued is Door, the last surviving relative of Lord Portico of London Beneath, and on a journey to find out what happened to her family. Suddenly, he finds that his entire life seems to never have happened, and he only truly exists in this new world of darkness and tunnels. His only hope is to accompany Door on her quest and maybe find a way to go back to the life he once knew in a world he understands.

Shocking, I know, I read yet another Neil Gaiman novel. Well, that's why he has his own tag, now isn't it? Not shocking, however, is the fact that I absolutely adored this novel, though I only picked it up when I did because I was tired of seeing the TV miniseries at Barnes and Noble without being able to honestly want to get it since I had yet to read the book. I know, I'm weird.

Though the characters were solid and interesting, and the plot was as well, I would have to say my favorite part of this novel was actually his descriptions. For some reason, I have a distinct fondness for worlds that are much like our own but subtley different--or wrong. This would, most likely, explain my attraction to the Pratchett novels which are pretty much our world through a fisheye lens. Neverwhere, however, presents a world that is not so much a reflection as a self-sufficient shadow of our world, existing as a skewed parallel to our own with pockets of time and darkness. Gaiman's brilliance comes in his wordsmithing and artistry in explaining what this world is, how one gets there and how it is logical and has rules while still breaking our concepts of reality. Boundaries are stretched, borders are fuzzier and Door has the power to open, well, doors more or less anywhere she needs to.

What Gaiman does to create a picture of this world is to give you textures and sounds, relate these things to things you already know. The descriptions are, indeed, fantastical--the unseen beast that resides in the tunnels, the darkness that is physically present, the sewers that are more than they seem--but rooted in day-to-day realities. Sewers are forever sewers and smell of must and filth, are drippy and contained and more or less unpleasant. Markets are big and busy and carnivals of smells, sights and sounds. Things we know, but altered.

I find humor in that this London Beneath, or however you would like to know it, has a remarkable resemblance to a sort of black-market world. Bartering and favors carry more weight than currency. I'm sure it's not meant to be clever or funny in any overt way, but rather to be entwined with the whole theme of underneath in a much more artful way, but the [pathetic] lover of puns in me enjoyed it far too much for it to go unmentioned. Just be glad I didn't make any seemy underbelly or something jokes. Seriously, I could probably come up with a lot.

I expect that most any reader could thoroughly enjoy this novel, as long as they have the key ability to open themselves to the fantastic. It is not an overbearing or overdone fantasy, it is not Tolkien; it is not Pratchett. Seeing as the reader is following Richard in his introduction to the new, or rather old, world, and processing it as he is doing so himself, it is all rather...accessible without being dumbed down. I would also vote this as a solid way to start into Gaiman's grown-up writing, as American Gods is a good book, well written and interesting, but is substantially more dense and, in a way, I would almost say more niche. In Neverwhere, Gaimain tells his story beautifully and concisely, introducing very real-feeling characters who, like so many of us, are just trying to figure out what the heck is going on and leading them through the adventure that lies ahead of them.

It's some good stuff.

Percy Jackson: The Last Olympian

2010-07-12T08:33:00.006-04:00

Percy Jackson: The Last Olympian
Rick Riordan

Everything that Percy has gone through since his run-in with the fury in book one is coming to a head. Kronos is almost finished regenerating and is using Luke's body as a vessel as he marches to war. Together with forty fellow campers, Percy, Annabeth and Grover must face the greatest threat to the Gods in millenium, fighting monsters, fellow demigods, titans and a spy within their ranks.

Yes, after finishing book four yesterday, I almost immediately jumped into five. Admittedly, there were about five or six hours between them, but still. I did not wait. I might've been able to wait until today or tomorrow, but I did not want to. So, BAM. In a fit of joy, I sat down and read the whole thing yesterday afternoon.

In college, I had one fabulous professor that insisted we read everything twice before coming to class. He felt that it gave us more time to think about, process and understand the material. He was right. I feel entirely unprepared to do a review on this book because I sat down and burned through it like a fangirl watching the season finale of her favorite show. I absorbed, at that moment, enough to keep me rolling forward without having to take a breath. But I'll try to do something decent here.

This is the first of the books that does not open with a scholastic disaster. In fact, it would seem that Percy has had is first uneventful school year and is enjoying his drivers permit with Rachel--his only normal friend. When Blackjack the Pegasus lands on the hood of his stepfather's Prius, Percy knows that he has no hope for a normal summer. Then again, having been part of an army building to the climax of a war for the past couple years, he knew it never would be anyway. And from this moment on, it is a mad dash to the end of the series. And, much like my previous simile, it really does feel like a series finale. Everything Riordan has brought along through the other books is referenced, used and eventually wrapped up. There are mad explosions, battles, traitors, prophecies and insanity.

But there is something I can say for this book that I could not for the final Hahrry Pottah! novel. There was no meaningless death. Yes, it is a war, but Riordan kept his narrative scaled to the point where the reader wouldn't feel cheated by handily coming along someone they had through the books as a corpse without anything more than lip service paid to their fight or memory. Yes, Rowling had two more books in the series, but her cast overweighed the bouyancy of the stories she was writing. There is no such issue here. If there was any complaint I would make against the end of this book, it would be that the ending was too neat--not Deathly Hallows epilogue neat, but tidy.

But I like happy endings, so I'm not actually going to make the complaint. Through the series, he has given us the prophecies and each of them have been fulfilled, so there is no reason we should expect less here. How he fulfills it is the interesting part as well as something I happily refuse to disclose.

Maybe in the future I will reread these and do them more justice. Maybe by then I will have learned how to write decent reviews, or will know more about the mythologies behind the books and thusly be able to appreciate them more. Or maybe not. For now, I'll just tell you to read and enjoy the series. It's a lot of fun.

Percy Series [in order]:
The Lightning Thief
The Sea of Monsters
The Titan's Curse
The Battle of the Labyrinth
The Last Olympian

Percy Jackson: The Battle of the Labyrinth

2010-07-11T13:59:00.004-04:00

Percy Jackson: The Battle of the Labyrinth
Rick Riordan

True to form, this, the fourth book in the series, starts out with yet another major disaster for Percy Jackson. This time, however, it is because the enemies are getting bolder. The titans are coming together for the offensive against the gods, and when a plot to use the Labyrinth to get into Camp Halfblood is discovered, it is Annabeth's turn to lead the quest. With Percy, Tyson and Grover at her side, they must delve into the dangers and mysteries of the ancient maze in order to find away to save their home and hope.

A not-insubstantial part of me wants to say Riordan improves with every book, but I can basically guarantee that it is completely subjective and I'm soundly involved in the story. What I can say, however, is that he continually fails to disappoint his readers. With each installment of the series, he drags us further into the world of the mythos, involving more creatures and gods of lesser or varied import. Not being a faithful student of the actual history/legends, I feel remarkably like Percy. I see names and think, "I should know that name" or "I should know that story." Then, sometimes we get background. Other times, we get awesome action scenes where we see how Percy is learning to be the hero of the prophecy, to be the hero he needs to be.

But, as we move on, Percy is not just becoming a hero. He is also becoming a man. [There is a scene in which the fact that, at 15 in Sparta, Percy would be considered a man is mentioned. It is, in fact, one of my favorite scenes in the book, but comes toward the end, so I can't say much more.] With coming of age, Percy is beginning to find somethings more complicated than others--like dealing with girls. Silly boything, so preoccupied by saving the world, he can't work out why these girls keep acting so strangely around him. Madness.

Fortunately, the drama does not detract from the story. I won't say it adds much, either, other than some depth to the fact that Percy is still just a kid trying to do the right thing the best he can. And like Lenon, he gets by on a [lot of] help from his friends.

As appropriate to the second-to-last novel in the series, this book is filled with action and intrigue. Through the device of prophetic and/or informative dreams, we get updates on how the bad guys are doing, and then, of course, Percy stumbles in upon any number of dangerous episodes cluing us toward the evil plans of the end. The fight scenes carry more weight than before, and death is becoming more and more real to the kids of the book, and the pace is maintained smoothly, building for the finale in The Last Olympian.

Can you guess what I'm going to read next?

Percy Series [in order]:
The Lightning Thief
The Sea of Monsters
The Titan's Curse
The Battle of the Labyrinth
The Last Olympian

Matilda

2010-07-11T12:48:00.002-04:00

Matilda
Roald Dahl

Matilda is an exceptional child being raised by some rotten people. By the time she arrives in school for the beginning of her education, she has not only completed reading the children's section in the library, but also worked her way through many of the great literary classics. It is not, however, until she finds herself within the clutches of the dreaded Trunchbull that Matilda learns that there is even more she can do than read and multiply beyond her years.

I have nothing really to say about Matilda. It is a sweet story with a happy ending, but is rather unremarkable otherwise. I imagine it might be fun to read aloud. It does, however, sadden me that the hype people have built around Dahl is somewhat tainting my ability to enjoy his books. I worry about when I go to read The BFG--a favorite of two of my very good friends.

Carpe Jugulum

2010-07-09T18:00:00.002-04:00

Carpe Jugulum
Terry Pratchett

Magrat and Verence, queen and king of Lancre, are celebrating the birth and naming of their first child adn throwing a large party at the castle for the country as well as foreign dignitaries. But when, in the spirit of modern-mindedness, the king invites a family of vampires who decide to overstay their welcome, the local witches decide to step in to protect their home and royal family.

I was, shall we say, encouraged into this series by a few of my friends. One of these friends quite happily informed me that his favorite of the series was, in fact, this text. Inasmuch, I was quite looking forward to this book. More than happily, I was anything but disappointed.

Being a Discworld novel, there is no way that blurb on the nack of a novel can even begin to cover the chaos that ensues once things get rolling. While this is one of the books within the witches arc of Discworld and circles around them, Pratchett hauls in an Omnian priest [harken back to Small Gods for the Omnian reference] and not only procedes to use him as a fabulously useful character but also a picture of faith and priesthood for close examination of religiosity and the fuzzy-wuzzies. The key conflict is in the Vampires conquering the castle. A fair amount of the side conflict is the interactions of the witches with Oats. And while, yes, the rest of the book was highly entertaining, it was Oats' struggling to find his place in the world and in his personal beliefs that got my brain revolving. The fact that they were perfectly suited to characters and surroundings was the biggest plus there could have been.

That is one of the most fascinating and appealing things about this or most any Pratchett novel. He doesn't tell you what to think. He tells a story, with people acting parts and being themselves and allows you to get his point without tapdancing on your spleen about it. I truly appreciate the respectful way that he treats Burtha [Small Gods] and Oats [Carpe Jugulum], two honest men trying to live their lives and their faiths without bringing harm to anyone. So many people choose to judge religious people in a lump that it is refreshing to see the people portrayed as being individuals instead of rampaging religious mob mentality. He does not condemn, their choices, but allows for the choice in the first.

Well, this is a review of the book, and I should return to it as such. Fans of the vampire genre should find themselves entertained, as those seeking control of Lancre are calling themselves "vampyres" as opposed to the original spelling, since they are modernizing their image and lifestyles. For a creature made and led by blood, this is quite an effort. It means decades of building up tolerance, for example, to holy water, sacred symbols and everyday household garlic. There is something, however, linking them to the past that they haven't managed to shake--the familial hand-me-down servant, Igor. Admittedly, one might point out the fact that Igor is not vampire material, but he is still a direct link to old school horror.

Bringing his A game to the table, Pratchett has given us yet another Discworld to love. Playing with stereotypes, archtypes and general humanity, we get to see the fisheye view of ourselves reflected in Pratchett's homemade jello-mold. It's refreshing and always hilarious.

Northanger Abbey

2010-07-05T08:24:00.003-04:00

Northanger Abbey
Jane Austen

Catherine is in Bath with family friends. While there, she meets new friends, new loves and some social intrigue. Though she is a simple and honest girl, she finds herself in situations where she must make difficult choices to follow her heart or the people she now loves.

This is, on a technical level, not my first time in the world of Austen. I read Emma for a class, and pretended to actually read this one for another class. The thing about reading something you don't want to read for class is that you don't always, shall we say, log it away. Inasmuch, I figured, "Hey, I own Austen, and it isn't right to write something off without actually trying it first, so lets give it a whirl!" And so I did.

Now, I will not go so far as to say that I regret reading it, or that I agree with Master Twain that she should not have been allowed to die a natural death. I cannot even say that I did not enjoy it in some parts. Unfortunately, those parts were far far into the book, for probably about the last third or so. Once Catherine actually goes to the titular Abbey, things begin to look up. Or at least interesting.

The main problem I have with the text is that nothing really ever happens. The whole point of going to Bath is to be socially engaged, and she is, but where does that get interesting? I can understand if she got involved with people beyond strolling around and gabbing, but that is all these women do. That and needlepoint, which hardly makes an appearance. The most obnoxious element within the fact that the first part of the story is about her social beginnings and women chit-chatting is that most of it is about her new best friend, Isabella, not her. And when things begin to happen, it is still to Isabella, not her. Eventually we find Catherine put in an awkward place in which she is forced to chose to define her character. She had her moments of crisis, but she chose. In this moment, I grew hopeful. Then it went right back to flouncing and dresses, and I soon grew disinterested. Again.

This is, honestly, why it has taken me so long to get through this 175 page novel. It might be that I've got too much contemporary thinking in my brain to give a flying rip about the social interactions of women who have no apparent purpose for their lives. It might be that I am too Tomboyish to care about dresses and dances. I don't know, but I can tell you with certainty that I am in absolutely no rush to return to the world of Austen. Sorry friends, Pride and Prejudice still holds no interest for me!

So You Want to Be a Wizard

2010-06-27T10:46:00.003-04:00

So You Want to Be a Wizard
Diane Duane

While seeking shelter in the library from bullies seeking to beat her to a pulp, Nita finds picking up a book that she's never noticed before: So You Want to Be A Wizard. She takes the oath, choosing to become a wizard in the hopes of all of the wonderful things she ever could dream, but along with another young wizarding local, she instead finds herself in the midst of a struggle between light and darkness. Wizarding, as the book said, has many rewards, but it also has many risks as well. Now she and Kit must find their way through a universe that is a perversion of their own and survive to return a stolen spell book to the side of light and save their world.

In a fairly common move, Duane makes both her main characters underdogs. Both Nita and Kit are in uncomfortable situations in school: Nita is bookish and quiet and Kit skipped at least one grade to get where he is now. The sad fact is that different is hard. And in their hardships, they both came upon the So You Want to Be a Wizard book and took the oath to become something more in the hopes that things would improve. But what happens next, I find to be fairly unique. After one brief but successful spat with Nita's foes, the book shifts entirely away from these issues and hurls both children into a massive adventure that even more experienced wizards would wish to avoid. The focus becomes survival and friendship.

Throughout the text, there were things that continually came to the surface as sort of sideways focal points for me, things that caught my eye and made me think about and appreciate them. Choice, was a constant theme, in a strange way that rolled it together with fate. Words and descriptions were the axis of the magic, and good and evil were not about power so much as about life, death and truth.

Choice plays a massive role in most any adventure story--including "choose your owns." But here, it was a constant thing. The kids make a conscious decision to step into the world, knowing [more or less] what it is. Ther is no familial tie, no separate culture to descend upon them. And, per organization in connection to the real world, it is much more Harry Dresden than Harry Potter--operating constantly in and around real life. Admittedly, I've only read the first book of this series [and probably will only read it, since, you know, so many books so little time] But anyway...

Nita and Kit are young, resourceful characters that choose do what is needed. The book seems to trap them in a circle of fate disguised as choice. There is only one answer, but the answer never has the expected results. They get Nita's pen back [the bullies had stolen it], but it makes Fred ill. To help Fred, they have to open the worldgate underneath New York City. When they open the world gate to help him, everything goes wrong and they're forced to leap into an alternate NYC. To get out of there, they need power, so they need the Book that was stolen. To find the Book, they need it's dark counterpart. Through all this, they must make their own path and grow in themselves as well as wizardry. They chose to become wizards, and in doing so agreed to protect life and energy. After that, their choices became entirely about how to go about this.

Wizardry in Duane's world is about words--something that I found quite lovely, being a fan of them myself. But, at the same time, it is about truth. The power of the magic is in using the wizarding words to convince things that they should be other than they are. To enact magic, you use the words of the wizards, in which spells are written and everything speaks. With the ability to understand the language, to learn to listen and speak to trees and rocks. And in learning to listen and speak to them, the wizard gains the ability to control and coax the trees, rocks and other such objects. At one point, Kit convinces a door that it's been locked for too long, and it should probably want to be unlocked for a little while. The power is in knowing a thing as it is, knowing the change that you wish to make, and then using the words to convince the thing that it is or was and always will be that way. I found this entirely fascinating.

The fight between good and evil, as presented within the text is an interesting one as well. The, for lack of a better phrase, good Book, is essentially the book of truth. It has always existed, as per the living things knowledge, and it exists to tell the world what it truly is and how it is. It exists to preserve life, light and energy. The counterpart which we will just call the other book, is much the same, but is twisted in subtle ways so that the spells comprised of description are untrue; they are perversions of what should be, carrying the light into shadows, stifling life and encouraging death. The other book was created by something that chose to be against life, participate in death and make it a curse upon everything. This is your bad guy.

I suppose, with how I worded it there, not much seems astonishingly different, but there still is something entirely unique about this wizarding world. It's fun, it's easy, but Hahrry Pottah! shall always rule the day, I think.

Still, give it a read, if only for the tentacled office creature working on the very nice typewriter. Oh, the eighties.

The Last Continent

2010-06-24T07:32:00.003-04:00

The Last Continent
Terry Pratchett

Rincewind returns, or is returned to, in this book. After his misadventures with Twoflower, he is slingshot[ted?] through time and space, only to land on the as-of-yet unfinished continent, Ecksecksecksecks. Even worse, he finds that he is now being guided into being the hero of the continent, come to save them when all of the water has gone away. Unfortunately, Rincewind isn't so much used to being the hero as running away from most anything heroic in nature. But what can he do when there is no way to get off the continent?

There is no reason, none at all, that the reader should assume that the continent in question is, in any way, modeled after Australia. Kangaroos, spiders, snakes and platypi aside, it's all circumstantial. But the beauty of this hot, dry, dangerous land is that it provides a delightful backdrop to one of Pratchett's main arcs in the Discworld: Rincewind. I had thought that I only enjoyed Rincewind in conjunction with Twoflower, after the whole Eric episode, but this book saves him. He's back with his cowardice and bad luck in full force, running madly away from and into new messes at every step. Madcap wacky hijinks and chase scenes abound.

Also in the recesses [and beginning] of the book, we are following two other groups. One is not so much a group as the man creating his continent. The other is the entire posse of the upper echalon of the Unseen University, seeking Rincewind in order to learn the name of the Librarian, who has grown gravely ill. [To magic a wizard, you must know his name, and magic is the only way they think they can fix him.] What this provides is an improved and continuous look into the inner workings of some of the "cleverest people" [and I'm sober, am I?] in Ankh-Morpork. This is, to be sure, quite an entertaining look on infighting, group-think and general comittee nonsense.

As always, Pratchett takes a picture of this world [and reflection] and shares it with us to say, "funny how that goes like that when we do this." His world is woven of light and laughter, capturing the mind and memory of the reader, leaving him or her a little bit happier and maybe just a little more aware. Wisdom you can't get without a beard [poor Stibbons].

Dr. Seuss & Mr. Geisel: A Biography

2010-06-17T06:45:00.001-04:00

Dr. Seuss & Mr. Geisel: A Biography
Judith Morgan

Dr. Seuss is one of the most iconic children's authors of the past three generations. He is credited for revolutionizing children's literature as well as paving the way for the genre and market for it that we know today. Not only did he write, but he also illustrated dozens of books that children are still raised with. None of this is surprising, none of this is new. What many people may not know, however, is that Dr. Seuss's actuall name was Theodore Geisel. He was in the military. He had an almost crippling fear of speaking in public. He had a profoundly sound failure in his book The Seven Lady Godivas and spent many years making his money from ads and comics in magazines. To the end, he strived to create and surrounded himself with the vibrancy of youth.

This book allows the reader to step into a booth and watch as Theodore Geisel grows up and is shaped into the man behind the man everyone knew. Chaptered by years, it chronicles his childhood, school years, military time, and journey into the publishing world, allowing the reader to stand in a private viewing booth and absorb what is going on. Not only is the subject matter fascinating, but the book itself is accessible without being over-simple and straight forward in presentation. Though it took me a while to read [partially because I am easily distracted and partially because there was a lot of information in it], I will happily say Morgan's book is an excellent tribute to one of the most beloved authors of our time, world-over.

I would say more, but it would be less about the book and more about the man, the amazing, talented, legendary man, that gave us more than just the Cat in the Hat and the Lorax. He gave us another way to look at and experience life, with crazy words and stunning colors.

Treasure Island

2010-06-17T06:16:00.002-04:00

Treasure Island
Robert Lewis Stevenson

Until a gruff stranger came to stay at the Admiral Benbow, Jim Hawkins was just working with his parents to run a business. But since "the Captain" came, his life has gone through an awesome upheaval and Jim is now on the adventure of a lifetime. He, along with Squire Trelawny, Captain Smollett, and Dr. Livesey, is sailing in search of buried pirate's treasure. But things will take an interesting turn as he learns that there is more to the hired seamen than may first appear.

A classic, right? I will make no disagreement there. It was action-packed, adventurous and entirely a boys club, as I had been told. While I am sure that there are schools of thought that meditate on the brilliance and execution of Stevenson's prose, I will say that it was very basic. Jim [for the most part, the good doctor took over for two chapters, I believe] was relating the tale for the events, and the very premise of the format of the story largely prohibits excessive use of flowery or overtly crafter phrasing. Being that he's just a kid who works at his parent's inn, that would be a touch out of place.

Inasmuch, this book is a classic for tapping into the common yearnings for adventure, for big changes and for going to sea. Even I've had my day dreams about sailing [I would die, by the way]. Something I found entirely fascinating, however, is that Stevenson did not pretty it up or romanticize much of the sea faring life. He speaks of the trials and the lack of comfort, and when they get to the island, we hear about the fever and illness and lack of proper medical care for the wounded. While not dwelling on the vile, we know that it is there.

All in all, it was an enjoyable read and I have no doubt that I will read Kidnapped at some point as well, but not too soon. I do have so many books to read and so little time to read them.

[There is a very cranky turtle named Shifu watching me type this and it is becoming disconcerting. I liked it better when he ignored me.]

Danger!

2010-06-07T22:34:00.003-04:00

There's a saying I've always rather loved, or at least since I found it I have loved it, and it goes something like this:

When I get money I buy books. If I have any left over, I buy food.

The problem is, it's not very far from the truth. At this point in my life, I am actually not in great financial standing, but have been thoroughly blessed to be living with a pair of loving and supportive parents who are slowly but surely goading me to get on with my life while simultaneously refusing to let me drown. But I'm self-defeating. I love books. I love them so much. I love to read them, to write them, to hear about them and to talk about them. I never feel so at home as when I am sitting a friend [or book--like squares and rectangles, books are friends but not all friends are books] around book shelves, be they my own or in a book store. And I think it is, in fact, a God-given love of words and wonder. I just don't know what to do with it but read and write.

And write I shall.

For I have this project that I wrote for my senior writing class that I am currently editing. I made a deal with a friend to have it done by July 14th. I am two and a half thousand words into the new draft [I am retyping the whole thing. That's just how I work.] and not off of the fourth quasi-page [curious format, don't ask] of the original.

I have a lot of work ahead.

But I pray and hope it shall come to fruition and that, in a little over a month, I will have a draft of a YA fantasy novel prepared for sending out to a publisher.

We'll see, eh?

Doomwyte

2010-05-23T18:51:00.002-04:00

Doomwyte
Brian Jaques

Bisky, like all of the Redwall Dibbuns, was raised on the stories of his elders. But when his retelling of a story about the ancient mousethief Gonff stole and hid four pigeon's-egg-sized rubies sparks off a search for the truth and gems themselves, things get more real than he ever expected. Soon the descendants of the original owners--an evil band of birds and lizards--are looking to get the precious items back and the Redwallers once again find themselves entrenched in more adventures than they were ready for.

Okay, we're all quite aware that I absolutely love the Redwall series, but some of the books have slipped below my level of love. True, they all have the same feel--youthful characters thrust into dangerous situations in which they must rescue loved ones, solve riddles, have visions of Martin the Warrior...well, that last one works in the books where Martin isn't actually around. When he is, well, he's the main character and it would just be weird to have visions of himself. Seriously.

Now, it's either space and distance from reading Redwall that allows me to read and enjoy the rather predictable plots of the new and as of yet unread stories in the series, or this specific book has reclaimed some of the original glory. I am honestly inclined to say that it is actually the latter--Jaques has regained some of my faith. There was no massive face-off of the bad guy vs the hero or heroes of the story--in fact, several of the heroes are completely unaware of the final battle anyway. Also, to mix it up, there are a couple of standard goodbeasts [aka the creatures and species that are regularly associated with the protagonist/goodguy side] that do the two-timing two-step. The plot still relies upon some mystical visions, riddles and crazy accents, but I think Doomwyte settles well into the series.

2010-05-16T07:27:00.004-04:00

I posted a quote not long ago about books, about a personal library, really, and its role in your life. Today I was cleaning my office [I feel so pretentious saying that, but I've also been cleaning my basement room, so "room" is insufficient] and came across an article sent to me by my grandmother [she used to be a librarian--book loving is a massive part of my family, which is, arguably, one of the best families ever]. The article is on J.D. Salinger, an author I haven't read yet [finding the article bumped him up the "to read" list a bit], by C.C. Smith who had maintained a decade-long correspondance and even met him once. She hails him as a "nice guy. No phony" and an author that, for her, broke the mold. She wrote this on reading the co-published novellas "Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters" and "Seymour: an Introduction."

I was simply stunned. [Salinger] broke all the rules about fiction I had inferred up to that point and, in just two short works, detonated my preconceptions about the boundaries of imagination and creativity. No fiction I had read before made me feel so simultaneously entertained, provoked and inspired. I realize how hyperbolic this sounds, but, seriously, I was never the same person afterward.

I think that C.C. Smith nails right on the head what creative literature is all about, really, and it makes sense. She says early on in her article that she came from "a family of serious card-carrying library patrons with a houseful of books shelved and stacked everywhere" which gives me a certain sense of credulity when reading her article and comfort, as a reader, with the claims she has made. It is one thing for a casual reader to stumble across something that might rock their world, but for an avid reader to have boundaries shattered so definitely--it is truly a striking thing.

Fortunately for us, as her audience, she specifies much of what caused this: provocation, inspiration and entertainment. While there is no hard and fast ruler for judging literature objectively [something I believe to be impossible], a reader can certainly rate a book on these three aspects and come up with a fair assessment of its quality. I do not mean to propose a one-to-ten scale, or even assume that it would be more accessible across the boards, but rather to imply that in using language such as these, along with supporting comments and exposition, we may glean better conclusions about the values of creative literature.

But really, that has little to do with my original reaction to this quote which basically was, "Wow, she nailed it. That's what literature is about." If a book was really good, you will leave its tender [or else not so tender] grasp changed. There may be one or two new thoughts floating around your head, or you might see something and go, "Huh. Never would have thought of that before."

Entertainment.

Inspiration.

Provocation.

Change.

Smith, C. C. "J. D. Salinger, Faithful Correspondant." Pittsburgh Post-Gazette 28 February 2010: E1+.

The Red House Mystery

2010-05-15T17:22:00.002-04:00

The Red House Mystery

Anthony Gillingham is a financially comfortable young man who wanders around the countryside trying out new jobs at his leisure. When he happens to come upon a panicked man and a corpse on his way to visit his friend Bill, Gillingham decides that his newest career path will be detective. With Bill at his side as a faithful Watson, the two proceed to discreetly poke their noses into corners and secret passages to uncover the truth and missing murderer.

The saying goes "never judge a book by it's cover," but lets be honest, the covers are pretty darn important anymore. In a world where covers are no longer simple cloth bindings with gilt letters and accents, every cover competes for attention and love from a potential reader. Consequently, many are brilliantly colored with incredible designs and eye-catching glitz. Some even are glittery, and many are embossed. But it is just this state of covers that will draw the casual peruser's eye to something very simple and straightforward, and this is why, in fact, I picked up The Red House Mystery by Milne. I did not even really stop to think about the fact that--hey, Pooh Corner! You know? I just saw a white cover with black and read print and a small picture of a man with a gun smack in the center. Then I picked it up and read the first page and was hooked.

You see, me and mysteries go way back. I used to be massively into them, devouring the Cat Who series along with some stand alone mystery novels and YA series. I was seriously a mystery fan. Then, somewhere along the way, I branched out and never really got back into them as hugely. I think part of what really killed it was the fact that the Cat Who series began to decline into repetitious mush and a couple of other bad apples over the years. I lost faith in the genre.

But Milne has reignited my interest! As we follow our lead, Gillingham, through his mystery-hunting, we find ourselves privvy to all that he knows and some of what he suspects [though, admittedly, he grows rather fond of being vague and Holmes-ish and pointedly leaves Bill out of the loop at times]. Like any solid mystery novel, the reader is provided enough information to begin formulating his or her assumptions and theories to be proven or disproven at the end.

Something else to be enjoyed, in my opinion, is the casual pacing of the novel. The story is set in an English Gentleman's home where all the necessities are provided and the only activities are urbane sports and entertainments. Inasmuch, Anthony and Bill are strolling around the gardens, playing billiards and generally enjoying what would amount to a blissful vacation in the modern middle class terms. The book is short, so most of the text is, in fact, their conversations. The set-up takes very little time and the rest is the investigation being allowed to unfold for the audience. Evidence is presented here and there, clues are discovered, and all the while, Gillingham is there, absorbing and pondering, like the reader.

In the end, there is only one real complaint I have against the book, and that is, indeed, the finale. Not that the case's solution lacked intrigue or satisfaction, but the presentation of the information was...easy. Lackluster, in a way. It was not entirely out of place, and managed to wrap things up neatly, but...well, I suppose that's just me being a whiner.

Good book. Good story. I hope to lay my hands on some other Milne in the future--heaven knows I have the Pooh books.

The Sixty-Eight Rooms

2010-05-14T13:07:00.003-04:00

The Sixty-Eight Rooms
Marianne Malone

Ruthie is pretty sure that nothing interesting will ever happen to her until she and her best friend Jack discover a key in the hall behind the Thorne Rooms while on a field trip at Chicago's Art Institute. Even more interesting is the fact that the key shrinks Ruthie down to the perfect scale to enter these scale models and she discovers that the rooms are not merely carefully-crafted works of art, but gateways into the era they have been made to represent. Along with Jack, Ruthie decides that she has finally found adventure and now they plan to explore the rooms and learn as much as they can about the magic behind them.

This book is one of those strange examples of a novel [perhaps only in my collection] in which there is no antagonist. There is no great evil or nefarious force plotting the demise of these curious children. Rather, they are a pair of ye olde school kids, a level-headed and responsible girl with her best friend the vivacious and distractable boy, who happen to discover the key [accurately enough] to something they would never had imagined themselves. Though the main tension in the story is that of the children trying to learn the secrets of the rooms, there are external side-plots to build the characters and provide a wider base of reality. Jack's mother, the painter, is having a tough time and the possiblility of them having to move is an unpleasant distraction. Mr. Bell the charming photographer gone museum guard is a pleasant character with a sad past that befriends them in their initial excursions.

The book itself was pleasant and easy to read, but something captured me. This concept of a gallery of rooms, recreated in miniature. Part of it is because of the recent film Coraline, made in stop-motion minatures with an elaborate beauty that came from sheer accuracy and grace in depiction. Reading about Ruthie and these rooms hooked me in a moment, and when I learned that there may be a world beyond what the facade shows, my natural yearning for adventure and interest was piqued, much like Ruthie's. Malone describes the girl's interest, as well as the rooms, with natural ease--possibly from personal experience.

The most fabulous thing about the book, however, is not about the book at all. It is the fact that I learned the Thorne Rooms really exist! Fortunately for me, a broke Pennsylvanian, there is the internet and plenty of photos of these miraculous miniatures to peruse at my leisure. I hope you'll do the same.

Also.

The Girl Who Could Fly

2010-04-28T21:44:00.006-04:00

The Girl Who Could Fly
Victoria Forester

Piper McCloud was born and raised on a normal country farm in a normal country area. Piper, however, is far from the norm. Able to float from infancy, things grew immensely more complex when she learned she could fly--restrained by her mother and rejected by her community, she welcomes the opportunity to go off and learn with a government program when it comes to collect her. At the institution, she meets children gifted in other ways and happily allows herself to be grafted into their family, but something lurks in the background that isn't quite right.

I first discovered this book at Barnes and Noble because a friend and I were hanging out in the children's section reliving our youths by pointing out books we loved as kids, had read as kids and yes, even hated as kids. True to form we were being a touch louder than perhaps was welcomed, and manage to get in the way of a young lady [indeterminate age, probably around ten or so] who was, in fact, looking for this book. We ended up chatting a little [when offered or imagining an opening, I always like to ask what people read] and she told me that she wanted to read it. I don't recall why, but I looked at it, was intrigued, and then put it back to buy the fourth Percy Jackson, which I have yet to read [and will remedy soon enough, I am sure...then again, I never did finish Spiderwick either. Oi!].

Then, the next day, Mikey and I wound up at another BN. I gave in and bought the silly book. Today I read it, more or less, in one sitting. But it's a kid's book, not too deeply written and quite engaging.

Which is basically what I think of it.

No, really!

The book was an extremely easy but entertaining read. Forester was a happy balance of diction that did not patronize early readers and wouldn't send them to the dictionary every five minutes. She captured a lot of the spirit of youth and the drama therein with Piper and her dealings with the others--unexpected judgment and rejection from the local kids when she first meets them [even without letting them know about her talents], and then the cliquish/clannish behaviors of the children in the institution. We see the highs and lows within Piper too, watching her learn and grow and be subjected to things that no one, let alone a child, should have to handle.

Something that delighted me beyond all reason, however, was the pacing--everything happens without an interruption of flow. The reader is not left in a pool of worthless babbling description or inane dialogue while waiting for the actual story to progress. There are even times when Ferguson toys with the flow of time by breaking it down from minute to minute and building tension. If it were a film [and I would not be surprised if this became one], you would seriously be holding your breath as all this mayhem went on.

It's a very sweet, actiony story with characters you can get behind. Again, it's not life-changing or soul-moving, but it's pretty awesome.

I have but one complaint but will form it in a request to the general populace:

I know that a lot of people really want to write novels--something I can completely appreciate--but I would like to request that all of you contemporary novelists-to-be politely refrain from allowing your typing habits learned from IMs and so forth become part of your story presentation. This includes but is not limited to denoting emphasis through excessive repeated exclamation points [!!!!!], question marks [?????] and bold text [!?!?!?]. It is, as a rule, unnecessary if you have managed to do your job correctly in building the proper context surrounding the incident and line, which, hopefully, you have. Thank you.

Hogfather

2010-04-28T20:56:00.002-04:00

Heyo--as we all know, I've been reading through the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett and enjoying it immensly. Well, it was bound to happen, but I've reached a "reread" and am far too lazy to bother reviewing it again. Suffice to say, it is essentially the Discworld Christmas Special, quite hilarious and well-assembled for maximum mayem potential. Synopsis:

In the pretentious world of humanity, we have people who audit things to make sure everything is going according to plan. In the Discworld, aside from having these same people, they have auditors of reality who endeavor to make sure the universe is going according to plan--atoms spinning, gravity sucking, etc. However, the more "evolved" mind of the more cognizent species throws a kink into by ascribing supernatural explanations and being generally disorganized. In order to alleviate this blemish, the auditors choose to destroy a central figure of inane belief, namely, the Hogfather. Now Death has taken it upon himself to fill in the role while he allows his granddaughter to step in and try to stop them. People have to believe in the Hogfather. Otherwise the sun will not rise.

Here's where I actually bothered reviewing it.

Percy Jackson: The Titan's Curse

2010-04-23T18:25:00.003-04:00

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Titan's Curse
Rick Riordan

With Annabeth and the goddess Artemis kidnapped, Percy, Grover, the still freshly returned Thalia and some of Artemis's hunters must join forces and go on a mission to save them. Prophecies, dreams and signs all imply that the Titan's powers are growing and sooner rather than later something must be done. With undead assassins as well as a new and mysterious enemy, the kids have their hands full on their journey from Camp Half-Blood to the Mountain of Despair.

It has been long enough since reading the first two [I remember taking some issue with book one] that I really cannot compare the levels of enjoyment, writing, plotting, etc, etc. What I will, however, do, is reply to the book briefly, and standalone.

This is not my favorite of the three books of the series that I have read. Book two remains my favorite because I absolutely adored Tyson. And the fishponies. I was thrilled to have so many baddies that I sort of already knew about pop up and be put on display through Riordan's perspective. This book had far too little Tyson and just a touch to much catty girl time. I understand that they have histories, pasts and are all essentially trapped in puberty in this specific universe [which happens in ya/kids books], but Thalia is kind of a horrible person.

This annoys me.

But I will be the first to admit that teenage girls often annoy me far more quickly than teenage boys. I'm just predisposed to detest drama, which teenage girls tend to radiate.

The plot was simple and quick--here's the problem, let's go solve it. Side mysteries, such as the new kids' parentage, the huntress Zoe's history and the identity of the new bad guy are interesting and interspersed through the execution of the story. Much like the preceding novels, and I imagine the following as well, Riordan sets this book's actual story around a prophecy. In this case, the set up is the disappearance and kidnapping of Annabeth and Artemis, followed by the arrival of the huntress's at Camp Half-Blood. Once the prophecy is delivered [in outstandingly unusal and disturbing circumstances], the ball is set to rolling. It establishes certain amounts of anticipation and focus that will pull the reader along as they search for clues to explain the cryptic rhyme.

All in all, it is an engaging story with fun action and interesting characters. I'm not bowled over by it, but thoroughly support it. A lot.

Let's hope the next book has more Tyson.

Percy Series [in order]:
The Lightning Thief
The Sea of Monsters
The Titan's Curse
The Battle of the Labyrinth
The Last Olympian

Good Omens

2010-04-23T14:28:00.002-04:00

Good Omens
Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett

Aziraphale and Crowly have been around since the beginning of the earth, though on opposite sides. Through proximity and immortality, both have become rather comfortable with a sort of friendly coexistance with both each other and the world around them. So when the big guys [upstairs and downstairs respectively] decide it's time to bring about the apocalypse, neither is particularly thrilled and join forces to figure out just what's happening so that maybe they can stop it.

Yes, this is both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. Yes, I have read and reviewed this before. No, I'm not going to bother to do it again, as I am sadly finding that my love for it, while not diminished, is somewhat cooled. Also, I mean, come on, why bother reviewing it when I can just link to it. Seriously.

Or at least that's what I would have said, had I actually ever written a review that I could find of Good Omens. So here we go.

As my poorly concieved blurb says, Aziraphale and Crowly have been around from the beginning and want to stop the end. However, they are not the only important characters in this book. Like so many wonderfully contrived and complex texts, this book tells the story of the end of the earth from several different perspectives. In fact, toward the end, you could almost anticipate it being a sort of TV movie shown in episodes [the only way, really, justice could be done], and the second-to-last episode ends with dynamic shots of the different groups all traveling for the same point--one group riding their way through the streets of London, one barrelling down a high way, one pedalling down a lane, one sort of hanging out where they need to be...you get the idea, right? Hilarious and visually stimulating.

But the authors [both brilliant in their own right and somehow maintaining their brilliance without making the reader's brain explode] as they madly dash between several different perspectives, ranging from the angels [Crowly is, after all, an angel, though fallen] to a pair of witchfinders, a quartet of trouble makers lead by the antichrist, and even a professional descendant who has been following the events of the upcoming end with substantial interest. Oh, and the horsepersons[PC with purpose!]. Can't forget them. Though the perspectives are many and the novel not insubstantial, the gentlemen keep everything clearly delineated.

Unfortunately, it can be a little cumbersome for some readers who are intimidated by length, complexity, humour, British coloquialisms or footnotes. It's also a touch dated, having come out twenty [oh my word, is 1990 really that far away?] years ago. None of this, however, should be enough to stop someone from reading it. True to their styles, these men paint gloriously accurate portraits of humanity and throw the world into contrast.

Admittedly, some fundamentalists might take exception to the overt digs at Christianity, but hey. Spit out the gristle, the book itself is a worthwhile read. It says a lot about humanity.

And hilarity.

Fall of Reach

2010-04-22T20:15:00.002-04:00

The Fall of Reach
Eric Nylund

The Spartan program is an experimental effort to create super soldiers in order to send fewer but more highly trained personel into dangerous situations with the hopes of increased success. As concerns turn from insurgents to a violent and advanced alien race called the Covenant that has begun systematically destroying human-populated planets, the special forces turn toward rescue and assault on the alen threat. Lead by Spartan 117 and joining the soldiers of the UNSC [United Nations Space Command], they become one of the last hopes for all of humanity.

The universe of the Halo video games knows the Master Chief as the hero [and key playable character] of the epic space adventure spanning three games [plus spinoffs] that have become some of the most popular ever made. Being one who has, in fact, played through all three games, it was fascinating to see Nylund's take on the origins of the Spartan program, from when the children were kidnapped and spirited away to be subject to extreme military training and then experimental medical enhancements. As someone who is aware of but not overly informed of the games and all they entail, I was quite content with his proffered story. Some of my more intense gamer-type friends, however, were unimpressed by the effort.

From the outside, looking in, the book is quite accessible. It helps to know why the Spartans are so important and why John is the focus, but is less than required. Nylund's writing is accessible and provides plenty of detail for the casual reader to create a picture in his or her mind.

Please note the key word in that last sentence there.

"Casual."

This book is not substandard and maintains a steady voice throughout, but is, on the whole, undemanding and purely surface entertainment. New depths of human reason or emotion remain unplumbed by this text and a reader will leave unaltered, for the most part. Not particularly engaging in action and holding little to no humor, The Fall of Reach is really for Halo fans that really want some backstory and don't mind a simple story.

Feet of Clay

2010-04-06T07:36:00.004-04:00

Feet of Clay
Terry Pratchett

Vimes is struggling to balance his new life as husband to the wealthiest woman in Ahnk-Morpork with what he knows and feels he is made of--urban policing. The two worlds momentarily collide, however, when the Patrician the little loved but much needed leader of the city is discovered poisoned. With arsenic turning up at both the Patrician's home and under the fingernails of another recent corpse, Vimes is happy to have hired an alchemist to the watch for more in depth exploration of crime scenes. Together with his motley and assorted crew on the Watch, he will have to figure out the connections between the deaths before he is the one framed for assassination.

I know what you're thinking. I know you're thinking, "Ah, Pratchett strikes again! I knew she'd come back to him!" And you were right, right? Totally.

Or you're thinking, "Good grief, haven't we heard enough about Pratchett, yet? This is getting ridiculous!"

Which it is, but since I'm working my way through a 30-someodd book series, it makes sense that you'd be seeing a lot of it. Especially since I'm not halfway through yet. Seriously, people, get with the picture.

But back to the book at hand.

Feet of Clay brings us happily back to the city of Ankh-Morpork where Vimes is still adjusting to his new life as a member of the city's wealthiest family as well as leading the growing and freshly diversified watch. It adds some depth to the characters we've already come to love [such as Nobby and Carrot] while branching out with some newbies that will most likely become regulars at some point, or at least important enough to be mentioned before they die horribly or something. At its heart, I'd say it is a sort of crime based mystery, or with the addition of Cheery Littlebottom [alchemist] to the crew, a step towards a Discworld proceedural. We get to follow [if in a disorganized manner] the actions of the watch as they begin trying to solve some puzzling murders that seem related to golems, high society, guild leaders and the Patrician's current bout with poisoning.

Vimes is in rare form, well, no, Vimes is in Vimes form, cranky and pushy and a lot more caring than he would ever want to think about. More and more, he is being painted as the Discworld's answer to the noir genre in our own, as a gruff old-school policeman who prefers to be walking the streets in crappy [literally, but it scrapes off easily enough when it dries] boots than farting around with the uppercrust or doing paperwork behind his desk. We discover a little bit about his history, coming from the low end of the low end and fleshing out some of the reasons he sticks up for the little guy [aside from being one]. And he's the heart of this book, as he tries to put together the case and organize everything before more people have to die.

I liked this one a lot. It was cohesive, mysterious and just as kick-in-the-head-with-a-pair-of-golf-shoes as Pratchett can be. I know my reviews of this series are distracted and largely pointless, but Pratchett will be Pratchett and sometimes I just can't say more than that.

I love Vimes.

The end.

The Book of Heroes

2010-04-01T15:58:00.003-04:00

The Book of Heroes
Miyuki Miyabe

Yuriko's life has been turned upside down. She is escorted from school in the middle of the day to be with her family, where she learns that her brother has disappeared. Things get even more complicated when she learns that he was bewitched by the mysterious figure of the King in Yellow and only she, being related to the last one taken by him, can take on the role of the allcaste. Together with a dictionary she names Aju she must try to save her brother and bind the King in Yellow in isolation once more.

All right folks, I'll get this out of the way right now. This book will not be for everyone. Like in Brave Story, Miyabe opens the story by ripping out your heart and stomping on it. Yuriko is an eleven year old girl who is being forced to watch as her family is hounded by press over the mysterious and bloody nature of her brother's disappearance. Then, being the only suitable candidate to exist, apparently, she has to step into a crazy world that is so wholly intangible that it will make your head spin. In short, the books opens depressingly and waxes philosophical. I would go so far as to say at least seventy five percent of the book is set up, explanation or back story. That doesn't mean it's not a good story. It is. It's just something of a push to get through, although those who can remember the tome that is Brave Story may appreciate it's apparent brevity at a mere 352 word-packed pages.

The characters are interesting enough--Yuri is a touch on the young side, and accurately portrayed to include several outbursts and minor breakdowns. She starts out, in a way, more mature seeming, falls back several steps but then continues to grow as the story progresses. Her main companion, Aju, is a dictionary that is purportedly "young." I don't remember the years exactly, but they give his spunky almost teenage [without the melodrama] attitude a certain amount of viability. Their interaction is mutually supportive, especially when introduced to the man who would be their guide and, more or less, protector on the journey, Ash, or Dmitri. He is a wolf, the title given to [or quite possibly taken by] those dedicated binding the King in Yellow once more. He's older, but not specifically aged [possibly immortal or just improbably long-lifed], and tends to be gruff nine times out of ten with a few shining moments of gentle behavior toward his youthful companion.

There is one final character, but he's another piece of literary device that I have yet to quite figure out. Before Yuri can go on her quest, she must visit the Nameless Land where she is met by a group of monks called the nameless devouts. They are all mirror images of the same person, young without youth and very simple. They are kind of like the Borg without the assimilatory powers--there is no time, no change, in the nameless land. If one comes they are there, part of the collective, but if one is gone, they never were. All are the same--one existence, many bodies. And out of this collective comes the final companion--a nameless devout singled out in shame by a book and sent on the journey. His being is explained slowly and surely as he becomes less and less one of the expressionless group. He is taken in [and named Sky by Yuri] to be an aid and protector, but Yuri is almost more protective of him, especially when Ash seems to take an irrational dislike to the boy.

But the journey is a long one and an extremely metaphysical one--the reader is regularly called back to the fact that the world does not exist as we know it and is quite capable of falling under the power of something it helped to create. The Hero, referred to in the title, is the shining glory side of the King in Yellow who is, in turn, the shadow and flipside of the hero. Miyabe delves not only into what a "hero" is, however, but also what creates a story and a world. The reader needn't feel alone if they are baffled though, as Yuri is right alongside, picking things up as they move.

All in all, it's actually a very involving read, with a strong story to back it [though the ending might disappoint, if you're hoping for an all-around conclusion and wrap up--just warning you] and while it might be hard for more inexperienced readers, don't let the pretty cover with the little girl and the mouse fool you. Miyabe paints some beautiful, heartbreaking and terrifying pictures in this story, this journey to save one and to save all.

A man I could not agree with more...

2010-03-21T21:33:00.002-04:00

In lieu of actually having finished a book in however long [I'm still working my way through the Seuss Bio, The Book of Heroes, and The Fall of Reach, though the first and last are nearing completion], I will instead post an absolutely fabulous quote I have just discovered. Were it shorter, I would put it in that little side-thingie that I have others in, but it's too substantial and will get it's own post.

"I care not how humble your bookshelf may be, nor how lowly the room which it adorns. Close the door of that room behind you, shut off with it all the cares of the outer world, plunge back into the soothing company of the great dead, and then you are through the magic portal into that fair land whither worry and vexation can follow you no more.
You have left all that is vulcar and all that is sordid behind you. There stand your noble, silent comrades, waiting in their ranks, Pass your eye down their files. Choose your man. And then you have but to hold up your hand to him and away you go together into dreamland. Surely there would be something eerie aobut al ine of books were it not that familiarity has deadened our sense of it.
Each is a mummified soul embalmed in cere-cloth and natron of leather and printer's ink. Each cover of a true book enfolds the concentrated essence of a man. The personalities of the writers have faded into the thinnest shadows, as their bodies into impalpable dust, yet here are their very spirits at your command."
-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Through the Magic Door

The Leviathan

2010-03-08T07:45:00.006-05:00

The Leviathan
Scott Westerfeld

In early 1900's Europe, tensions are running high between the countries, focused on a diversion of the sciences. One half supports mechaniks, using machines for everything and anything, larger, stronger, and more dangerous. The other half moves about and works with human-designed and fabricated animals that are hybrids, and considered godless by the opposing forces. Alek's parents, the Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, have been poisoned while away on a review of troops, possibly by their own allies in order to incite war. Now he and four of the best men from his father's employ are on the run through Austria toward the Swiss border in a war machine known as a walker. At the same time, Deryn Sharp is playing at being a boy as she seeks to join the British airforce as Dylan Sharp and winds up landing a spot on the massive darwinist creation the Leviathan as it embarks on a very important but very secret mission. Both youths must maintain the secret of their identities, for if they are found, all is lost.

Having finished the book only yesterday, I will announce that I am going into this review/ramble/whatever it is I actually do here, spout off, most like, with a substantial bias. I was not happy with the way the book ended. It felt cheap and too much like a market ploy to lead up to sequels and so on. I am sure that eventually this will fade and I'll accept that he just ended it with the promise of the finish of the journey rather than before the end of the journey--it's all semantics, really--which is how it truly feels. I understand setting yourself up for a series, and I can appreciate the monetary value. Sometimes, however, it just feels like the book lost importance along the way. I will never say that J. K. Rowling is my favorite author, but I will always admit to enjoying the Hahrry Pottah! series, because, well, I did. I liked, however, that they were largely complete stories in and of themselves, and while it would be difficult to read one with out the preceding, it could be accomplished and quite possibly still satisfying. But when books just cut out mid-jaunt, I get...irritated. But enough on this, I think you've figured out where I stand [I said similar things, though perhaps with less vitriol, about the Spiderwick series].

As for the book itself, prior to the ending, I was quite pleased with its arrangement. The chapters are about even in distribution between the two story lines, following Deryn one step and then Alek next--technically the other way around since Alek starts us out. We follow them as they must adjust to their new lifestyles--Alek is thrust into a world of urgency, silence and discipline, and Deryn must hide her physical self and maintain the cover of being a boy, which she freely admits is a pretty rough ride. Throughout the text we are treated to their experiences that take them each a little further into adapting and growing up. Neither slow nor overly fast as some adventures tend to be, The Leviathan, in its somewhat episodic manner, flows steadily from one scene to another. Though some of the chapters are more dialogue based than other, the reader can be sure that it is something that should be read, lacking needless exposition or frills.

However, the dialogue can also be a bit of a drawback in the Deryn chapters. Deryn, in her desire to be like the men around her, takes up swearing. Seeing as this is yet a YA book [at best, it's level makes it available to younger readers as well], recognizable foul language is scrubbed for Westerfeld's own words. These are creative and interesting additions to regular vocabulary, but rather weigh the page down with their repetition. Some readers may find themselves longing for a less...expressive means of conversation. Admittedly, it makes sense since Deryn is an emotional and active human being participating in something that is almost otherworldy it is so much larger than she is, but still.

One more thing that more than pleasantly surprised me was the fact that this book was illustrated by the very talented Kieth Thompson. Not to say that I knew him before this book, but rather I was surprised it was illustrated in the first and then ended up being a delightful addition to the text. The best of illustrations flow from the text and these are, I will unabashedly say, amazing. His level of detail brought to not just people or machines but to both is skillful and astounding. The characters had an element of grace to them without feeling ethereal, and the darwinist fabrications? Amazing. After perusing his site, the man was the perfect match for Westerfeld's steampunk world.

This novel was my first venture into true alternate history as well as steampunk. I must say that am delighted that I enjoyed it thoroughly [despite that whole "ending" spiel" and everything] and look forward to dabbling some more.

Odd and the Frost Giants

2010-03-01T10:35:00.002-05:00

Odd and the Frost Giants
Neil Gaiman

Odd's name means the tip of a sword, and is a lucky name, though he is not a lucky boy. His leg is crippled, and when his mother remarried after his father died, the man was not interested in having another child after his own seven. Tired of the unpleasant homelife with this man, Odd leaves with some provisions to live in his father's old woodcarving hut. He hopes to last out the winter there and start a new life, but things get more complicated when three gods trapped in animal forms need his help. Joining them, he goes off to help save Asgard and, hopefully, his home as well.

Short and sweet, Gaiman's Odd is a very cleanly written book. There aren't a lot of spots with description or exposition, and the only backstory presented is handled quickly. Though set back in the viking days, the dialogue is kept to a contemporary level and the diction level is well-suited to the younger age bracket without being patronizing. It would be a lot of fun to read aloud to a young audience--I suppose my friends need to start having babies so I can read to them, eh? Won't hold my breath, though.

Percy Jackson: The Sea of Monsters

2010-03-01T09:42:00.003-05:00

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters
Rick Riordan

Percy's just had an almost tolerable [read: uneventful] semester, and is looking forward to making it to his second summer at camp half-blood, when things literally explode on his last day at school. Aided by his new friend Tyson and the surprisingly well-timed arrival of Annabeth, Percy manages to escape the hairy situation only to find a more devestating one is happening at the camp itself. Someone has poisoned Thalia's Tree--a key part of their magical defenses, and only one thing is known that can save both the tree and the camp, the golden fleece. Now Percy, Annabeth and Tyson must make their way through the legendary sea of Homer's Odyssey, the sea of monsters and retrieve the golden fleece before everything collapses.

The second book in this series is substantially shorter than the first--something that surprised and bothered me. This is probably just because I've gotten used to things getting longer and denser as series progress as in Hahrry Pottah! or maintaining a steady level of everything as in Redwall. And I will be the first to admit that I am not enthralled by Riordan's series, but I do thoroughly enjoy them. The writing is solid and light enough to lend itself to the constant motion involved in throwing Percy from one mess into the other while keeping the reader up on the fact that there is something horrible going on in the background, namely Kronos.

Riordan has created a very active and mobile series that draws the reader through a fair amount of Greek mythology without having to stop and explain everything--possibly in order to get the readers to check it out for themselves. I found myself eagerly looking forward to the challenges I could remember from my high school reading of Homer's Odyssey, with Circe, Polyphemus and the sirens [the core of what I could really recall from the actual journey] and interested in the route Riordan would take once we got there. Since the Lotus Eaters were running a casino in Vegas, I had no idea what to expect for any of these things. And he delivered, partially with an updated version and partially with a gruesome monstrous adventure true to the original creatures, slimy and gross and evil. But none of it seemed out of place.

I look forward to the next book.

Percy Series [in order]:
The Lightning Thief
The Sea of Monsters
The Titan's Curse
The Battle of the Labyrinth
The Last Olympian

Hoot

2010-02-19T21:56:00.003-05:00

Hoot
Carl Hiaasen

Being the new kid at a school is always hard, something Roy Eberhardt could tell you without thinking. He's been the new kid too many times, but when the local bully starts mashing his face against the bus window, he finds himself not only an enemy but a mystery as well. Outside, running away from the bus, is another kid--shoeless and free. He starts investigations, but must handle the tangling pieces of his life as the bully refuses to leave, a tough girl hassles him and something strange is discovered about the abandoned lot--soon to be a pancake house.

Just throwing this out before I get cracking--I didn't know this was a book when I saw the movie. I love the movie, and have since I first watched it. And now that I have read the book, I love it as well.

It is a very simple book, telling Roy's story as he starts adjusting to life in Florda, somewhere he'd rather not be. He's not an outstanding student, he's not supernaturally sporty, he's actually just a nice kid who happens to be put in some unusual circumstances. And he goes through these with the grace of a level-headed kid who knows precisely what he thinks is the right thing to do. The fighting is not glorified, it's frowned upon, but he doesn't hesitate to punch someone in the face to get loose. Personally, I applaud this inclusion--not as one who has experienced a similar situation, but rather being friends with someone who got pinned and had to get out before too much damage could be done. Also, while not remarkably subtle about its pro-green orientation, the book doesn't preach so much as promote a more thorough understanding of the beauty of nature in light of "civilization." Pancake houses are not condemned--people who do not think about where they are building them are.

Roy, as I said, is a good kid. He learns, he makes friends, and is comfortably average. None of the other characters are preternatural either--they all feel very much like someone you might have known back in high school, or junior high. Well, Mullet Fingers pushes the envelope, but not to the point of disbelief. His abilities are logical extrapolations of his situation. He's a kid that likes nature and freedom and has learned to live in both. The magic of this recipe is in its pleasantly simple execution. Without excessive jumping, we follow Roy and the hapless Delinko through the events, allowing the reader a steady base for building the reading experience. The reader is brought to care for the characters and the helpless creatures being threatened by buldozers. It is a sweet and fun read with just enough action to lure in hesitant participants.

I am really terrible at this, am I not? Alas.

As for the film adaptation, through the first half of the book, I was literally startled to see how acurately they carried things over--direct dialogue, precise descriptions, maintained with careful precision. True, certain characters, side characters, were augmented to create a more sympathetic atmosphere as well as a neater wrap up, but at its heart, the film is, in fact, the text. Excusing some of the quick work-up at the end of the film where the kids manage to lure the entire town to the building site a day early, and, well, Jimmy Buffet, Hollywood sensationalism has no place. Even then it is muted. I know that I have previously said that Hogfather is the truest book to movie I've seen, but this could give it a run for its movie.

I would recommend both.

Don't judge a book by it's move: Percy Jackson

2010-02-18T09:51:00.005-05:00

Book and film of the same name: Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief

I read the first book in the Percy series a while ago at the urging of at least three friends, all of whom thoroughly enjoyed the book. Admittedly, I picked it up also because I knew a movie was coming out and while yes, I can see where my mother prefers reading afterward [so she can enjoy both], I do prefer the text to predate the film. I go with this because I'm a very visually based person, and if I do not firmly implant my own images into a book I can lose a fair amount of the experience because I'm distracted by what I've already seen. Sometimes there is little-to-no-harm done by watching the film, especially when they've managed to capture either the essence of the test [without necessarily being totally right] or the casting is phenomenal [LotR, for instance. My only issue with the main cast was that the hobbits were so skinny to start out with...McKellan and Astin being the best cast, in my opinion. But I love Sean Astin.] And, in the end, I'm glad that I read the book first here for several reasons.

So, Percy the movie.

I'll start with a standing-back just movie statement. I did thoroughly enjoy it, though it felt a little rushed and slapdash in its assembly. Things came too easily--I mean, come on, he magically knows enough fighting to not die all the time? Yeah, Percy's the son of one of the big three [I appreciated that it was acknowledged so quickly in the film, when the reveal had been drawn out in the book, though it was painfully obvious], but there was not even a training montage. And Annabeth totally should have won that. Silly magic water. Even if I didn't know how the book had things set up, this would have been an annoyance. Not enough to destroy the entertainment value [I still love watching Tomb Raider, and how convenient is that film?], but a tiny tic in the back of my mind.

And actually, that complaint, of it being too easy, too fast, really covers most of my irritations. The things happened in rapid succession to the exclusion of fair character development, and it was all too convenient. I think all three kids did a fair job of acting their parts, but felt that Annabeth got a little cheated in her role [comparatively to the book], and that whole "strong feelings" line came way too early. She should have, perhaps, held it in until they were going on the mission [quest, thing] and added a more dynamic layer to the journey. Poor thing, awesome though she was, was mainly a sexual tension gnome* [but pg] by way of the writing. She didn't get to use much of her heritage--which killed me, because she totally should have headbutted Medusa when Medusa was all in her face. You can do that with your eyes closed. Sheesh.

Again, I'll say the movie was fun. If you're a die-hard book to movie freak who needs details SPOT ON, you're going to hate it. Completely. This is because they reoriented the film to focus on the more shallow of the battles--well, the battles instead of the war--than the book, which provided heavy insinuations that there is plenty more going on than is on the surface. I have to wonder, having not read the second book as of now, if they have crippled their chances at doing the movies as the series--well, that and the fact that the kids were about four years older than in the book. But as said elsewhere*, it makes more sense for an older kid to make it through these ordeals than an eleven year old [or whatever]. HP made a little sense for the ages, with a little stretch, because the battles were not as physical as they are in this series. But if you can tear yourself from the text and prepare for a fun freeforall in the modern day world with some ancient baddies, you should totally be able to appreciate the film...

Also, was it just me, or did Lerman [Percy] look and sound an awful lot like Zac Effron every now and again?

Also also, the music was pretty awesome. Never expected to hear Three Dog Night's Momma Told Me in a kid's film. Wild.

*Go read this--it's a better review.

About David

2010-02-13T18:57:00.002-05:00

About David
Suan Beth Pfeffer

Lynn has no idea how to begin handling the news about her oldest friend, David. He's dead, having first shot his parents and then himself. She must cope with this information and all of the subsequent fallout early in her senior year of highschool and as the months move on. But how can she, when she cannot even remember the last thing he said to her?

Set up as a journal kept by the main character, Lynn, About David chronicles her efforts to cope and possibly understand what happened to David. She has to deal with her peers at school, her parents who were family friends to David and his parents, the newspapers covering the issues, and throughout it all, her own jumbled emotions regarding the entire situation. It is an emotional journey, but related in almost emotionless terms as Lynn takes a moment apart to write it all down. There is very little description, mood-setting wise, and most of the writing could be descrived as expositional. This detracts somewhat from a compelling story of pain and memories. This is not an amazing book, but it is a solid read that examines different reactions to violent grief. Given the amount of time between beginning and end of the journal, mental recovery is not unlikely, but my key complaint [the lack of enthusiasm for the style is not a complaint but rather an observation] is that the author very handily wraps everything up. Too neatly, if not too soon, Lynn finishes the journey and the journal as well.

Maskerade

2010-02-13T15:54:00.002-05:00

Maskerade
Terry Pratchett

Agnes Nitt has left Lancre to escape the woodsy realm for the excitement of Ankh-Morpork where she takes her natural gift for singing to the opera house and soon becomes a fixture within the chorus. Things get a little more exciting, however, than anticipated because of the opera house ghost. Once confined to criticisms, compliments and mysteriously patronizing Box 8, more recent accidents and murders are now being attributed to the masked figure. Then things get even more complicated when Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax--two people Agnes was escaping--show up and start poking around things.

Yes, I know, more Pratchett. But it's so nice to be able to pick up a good-sized book, knowing that you're going to be able to read through a highly interesting and humorous novel in a day if you want to. Technically, I didn't start and finish it today, but I was only about eighteen pages in from yesterday. The one thing about this story that makes me sad is that, while I have seen Phantom of the Opera [modern make only], and never got a chance to read the book. I started once, but it was during school and got put aside about five pages in because some nosy friend reminded me I had a paper to write. Bah! Papers!

The Witches of the Discworld are quickly becoming my favorite arc amongst the massive series. This specific arc tails the activities of Esme Weatherwax and Gytha Ogg, specifically in this book, as they handle a missing member of their coven, since Magrat has married and left the coven. As Nanny Ogg says, three witches is a coven. Two witches is an argument. But it is in the dynamic between the self-sufficient and comfortably cranky Weatherwax and the overly-friendly and creatively mannered Ogg where the inexplicably enchanting element lies. Anyone who has a good, long-term friend with whom they argue incessantly while maintaining ties will recognize the relationship and most likely be able to enjoy it.

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court

2010-02-04T16:42:00.003-05:00

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court

Mark Twain

A 20th century working-man finds himself back in Arthurian times, and after saving himself with some contemporary knowledge, he finds himself brought into the king's own court as a magician. Full of himself and keen on improving the world, the Boss [as he comes to be called], sets about modernizing as many aspects of his new medieval home as he can.

So, yes. After what looks to be the better part of a year, I have finally finished my first Mark Twain novel [any English Major can shake their heads sadly here, and I expect them to do so]. And it was not through want of trying or lack of ability, but rather because I really did not like the book for about the first third. The narrator was long-winded, pompous and rather irksome. However, as time progressed and he began to act with these "savages" on a more interpersonal level [rather than some awesome deity temporarily misplaced], he became tolerable--almost likeable. But that is only part of the story.

Some people might not be able to enjoy this little adventure for similar reasons as previously mentioned. However, there's another chance they might be annoyed by the regular pontifications on the benefits of a modern life, republic and generally enlightened existance the narrator has left behind but regularly remenisces. Or the fact that there are vast spaces of "development" between the scenes of action or interaction.

But, somewhere inbetween the complaints, rambling, condescension and general pompous behavior, a storyline begins to develop and the character begins to grow and I managed to find it quite enjoyable. Some of his rants are less interesting than others, but when things begin to happen and he interacts with the varying levels of humanity, the book grows engaging.

And right about now, I'm completely distracted and ending this on a useless note. I'm glad that I finished the book, and even happier that I was able to enjoy it.

[Pardon the fantasy/historical fiction crossover, if it makes no sense. I went with the combination because technically he was writing about a previous historical era and there was a sort of magic involved to get him there...even though he [the narrator] spends ample time denouncing "magic" of all kinds.]

The Pink Motel

2010-02-02T16:28:00.002-05:00

The Pink Motel
Carol Ryrie Brink

Kirby and Bitsy Mellen's mother has just inherited a motel in Florida from her rather eccentric Uncle Hiram. Being just quiet folk from the great white north, they are a little more than startled when they journey south to discover the motel is a very bright pink, and the odd color attracts even odder guests. With their parents involved in running the motel [and possibly preparing to sell it], the two Mellen children must help as best they can while making friends and keeping an eye on some rather suspicious characters staying with them.

This is an old favorite from when I was younger [don't ask me how young, like Jim Ugly, it's just been floating around my shelves forever], but I found myself rereading it the other evening and was vaguely disappointed. It is not in the story itself--that's just a fun free-for-all mishmash of kids meeting crazy awesome adults and suspecting the not-as-crazy-awesome-adults to be gangsters. The story is not a problem. It's that it was written fifty years ago and some things are not as they are now--the kids, save one, are all white. And the one black kid [who I would say is actually my favorite kid of the four] is the only one who sounds anything less than intelligent when he speaks. A bit backwater, you know? But it's appropriate since he is, in fact, backwater. His home, with his numerous other siblings, is a cabin on stilts in the swamp. Now, I doubt this would bother me if there were any other black characters in the book. At all. Not even one of the guests. A sign of the times, I suppose.

Meh. I still enjoy reading it and laughing along with the kids as they go on their little adventures and participate in wacky hijinks.

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents

2010-02-01T19:16:00.002-05:00

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents
Terry Pratchett

Everyone knows the stories of the rat plagues and the pipers leading them out of town. Few know that, although it seems as though the piper's the brains of the scheme, in one very specific example, it is the cat that travels with him. But what happens to this pleasant little "nobody gets hurt" scam when Maurice [the cat] and his band of traveling rats happen upon a tiny little town with secrets, trapped in the middle of a terrible rat-induced famine? Will their scheme work, or will they be dragged into the mysterious goings-on beneath the surface of Bad Blintz?

I saw this book at Barnes and Noble and had to buy it. It's actually the first Pratchett book since The Last Hero that I got for myself--which is mainly because my roommate owns pretty much the entire Discworld series. Very nice. But I saw this one listed on a website somewhere, then stumbled upon the plot summary somewhere else and was enchanted by his augmented telling of what should be a simple folk story. Shocking, I know. So, paperback, seven bucks, deep-seated-impulse-to-buy-books, and bam. Purchased. Then, only a day or two later, I started reading it. Saturday evening I was in a small car accident [battered vehicles, no human injuries] and thus yesterday, it served as my complete escape from my current world. Very, very nice. But that has little to nothing to do with the book itself.

This story is one of Pratchett's YA books. It is the earliest, I believe, to be aimed specifically at the age group, coming before Wee Free Men, which I read last year. But just because he targeted outside his usual audience is no reason to assume that he dumbed it down. More or less, he merely removed his sketchier jokes/references. Then again, with the main characters being rats, a cat and two children, there's not a lot of room for him.

My mind is running seven directions from diagonalwise, so please forgive the fragmented nature of this train of thought.

One last thing--this book has been highly praised. It won a Carnegie Award. It's cover has an awesome review from Neil Gaiman. I will assure you that it does indeed deserve the fanfare...but it starts out a little slow. Once you get into town and get rolling, everything explodes, largely into awesome...though you might have a strange impulse to slap the little girl every once in a while.