Hitting On Girls in Bookstores

why the f*ck friday (21)

2016-02-12T13:33:00.000-05:00

"Sometimes I just forget I'm a cat."

Welcome to my weekly meme post. I'll be asking myself a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. This week it's "Why the f*ck am I unable to read with a beer buzz?"

So here's a quick question for anyone over the age of 21 (or whatever drinking age is legal in your country): do you find it difficult to read while intoxicated?

I have to admit, I love craft beer, and wine, and spirits, and mead, and... I don't go to meetings, but let's just say I like to get a little inebriated on Mondays, Fridays, Saturdays, and have a Bloody Mary on Sunday morning.

I just have one slight problem. Sometimes I can have one beer and I'm good to go with my book. Sometimes I have three beers, I read an entire chapter, and I forget that chapter. I've lost a lot of time reading because of this.

I often see the phrase "write drunk, edit sober"* floating around writing communities and book blogs. I've tried this, it doesn't work. If anything it leads to me watching YouTube videos of someone more intoxicated than me making an ass out of themselves.

I'm creating a new phrase: book boozing. Or maybe booze booking. Or book blackouts to explain this phenomenon.

That's it for this weeks WTFF. I would like to hear about your experiences book boozing or book blacking out. Or just tell me what you like to drink with your books. Craft beer suggestions? Post it. Happy Friday!

*Ernest Hemingway said this. I always thought he meant write without inhibitions and then take a keen eye to your work.
Note: I don't drink as much as I'm letting on, but that cat up in the right hand corner of this post? Complete alcoholic. He's nice when he's sober.

The Merchant of Death (Pendragon #1) - a review (kind of)

2015-10-21T15:30:00.002-04:00

The Merchant of Death
D.J. McHale
384 pages

Sometime back in the early 2000s when Harry Potter hysteria was reaching its climax, and the first Gossip Girl book came out, and the last His Dark Materials book was released; a series of books was nudged in there without notice.

We've had our Percy Jacksons, our Hermoine Grangers, there's been a Gossip Girl, there's been hunger games and mazes and some questionable brother and sister plot lines, and an entire decade of books about a kid named Bobby Pendragon.

Now, you might ask yourself as I did when hearing about this series, who the f*ck is Bobby Pendragon? Is he a wizard? No. Is he battling an oppressive government? No. Well, okay, kinda. Does he have super powers? Kind of. Is he a vampire? No. This kid sounds as boring and plain as Vanilla Ice at a Butter Appreciation Festival.

But not really.

Let me slide us back to 1995. Back in those days there was a television show called, well, Sliders. About a group of people who slide into other dimensions like how Kayne West slips into a conversation; loudly and rudely, no matter how rude they're saying they aren't.* (the characters had a "no interference" policy with each reality, but somehow ended up screwing everything up by interfering).

So this Bobby Pendragon kid is a traveler. He's a Slider of sorts. He travels to other dimensions and times to territories that are on the verge of becoming extremely chaotic or all peaceful and Vulcan-like. Whatever. The book also switches between first person and third person, because Bobby is writing a journal and sending it to his friends on Second Earth (why we aren't First Earth is never made apparent)**. Whatever.

I have one serious question. Who the f*ck is Bobby Pendragon? How does a series of TEN BOOKS that were released between 2001 and 2010 completely escape my notice? You're telling me that in the decade of shopping on Amazon, of going to the library, of talking to other readers, of blogging, of going to bookstores that I've never heard of this kid?

It's not only that, I enjoyed the heck out of Bobby's adventure. There's mysteries of the universe to solve. There's badly used 2000s slang that we all regret using. He doesn't have an iPhone! He isn't concerned with Twitter or Facebook! He doesn't kiss girls, he macks on them. Macks. He macks them!

Seriously! He uses that word! Macks!

I think I'm a traveler. Or a slider. I think I've stumbled into another universe, one where Bobby Pendragon is a reality. One where my nostalgia for a simpler era of YA novels lives. I'm okay with that.

Three Out of Five Fucks Given

(Full Disclosure: I purchased this and read this on my Kindle)
*Universal Truth #1,592: The people who claim not to be rude are often the rudest. "I'm not a rude person, but your sweater totally doesn't match your pants." "Yes, yes, you are very rude for saying that."
**I wanted to chant "We're number one! We're number one!" the entire time, but apparently we're a huge number two.
Note: I apologize for any book history I might have messed up.

why the fuck friday (20)

2015-03-12T19:26:00.003-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. It's more of an airing of grievances. A place to complain. This week it's "why the f*ck aren't you reading in the park?"

I've come to realize that for the past few years I've had a consistent crutch I rely on. It isn't alcohol, it's not smoking, it's not that wacky stuff people in Gondor are enjoying. It's a series of three 20" by 20" squares in which I have spent a lot of time on.

It's my couch.

If you've been living in the eastern United States for the past several months, you know it's been more like, well, I can't think of a more original way to say frozen wasteland void of all color and emotion. Okay, how about this: it's been Antarctica but with traffic and no cute penguins. Just those pesky potholes.

This post is not about the weather. It's about realizing there are more places to read than there potholes in my street.

I have lived next to a park for several years. I've walked in the park. I've hiked the park. I know where they found that dead guy last year, and I can point out to you where everyone sleds when it snows (and can inform you that it's where everyone takes their dog to play, and is covered in dog crap--talk about skid marks).

I have never, ever, and for more emphasis I am adding another ever, ever read in the park until recently. Recently the sky cleared and the sun stuck his head out to say hello. It was about this time I realized that I had spent a majority of the past few months on my three squares of safety.

This, I said to myself, has to change. I grabbed my backpack, threw my Kindle in it, and headed for the hills (the one sans dog poop). What I experienced was nothing short of a revelation.

I was expecting loud children to distract me, for the local LARPERS spear throwing to interrupt my re-reading of, err, not a Chelsea Handler book. Or for the sun to burn me alive.

Instead my ass got sore from sitting on a rock for an hour. One glorious hour in which I was distracted by passing cars and walking old people, but for that one hour I got my vitamin D, enjoyed some Not Chelsea Handler, and got to take in nature in a way I had not experienced before.*

It's kind of lame that it took me this long to get there. I am sure plenty of people read in the park, but I've always been one for a coffee shop or a couch. I think, in the future, I might take a blanket so my ass doesn't get so sore. Or maybe I'll find a tree to avoid getting sunburned.

That's it for this weeks WTFF. I would like to hear about your experiences outside with a book. Is this a regular event for you? Where are you from?

*suprisingly enough, bird noises block out a lot of background noise.

The Fifth Wave - a book review, Or She's Got Those Moves Like Jagger

2014-01-18T08:34:00.000-05:00

The 5th Wave
Rick Yancey
497 pages

This book is about an alien invasion--which has been in movies, books, and songs since someone looked up at the sky and said "Someone out there is trying to kill us!"--so I'm not going to pretend like OMG this is such an original concept at all.

Humanity is removed from the face of Earth in a series of waves (not unlike the TV show Falling Skies). Not, like, water waves. We're talkin' waves of destruction, chaos, famine; Honey Boo Boo renewed for another season and cats and dogs living together. All witnessed by Cassie. Who is named after a constellation and is looking for her missing brother (which is not an over used plot element at all). She's survived the first four waves and is waiting on the fifth to kill her.

Cassie, though, she's tough as nails (not unlike other female teenage characters who are tough as nails and have dead parents). Until she meets some guy in a cabin and they start a-snoggin' (this is British slang for kissing). But is he one of THEM or is he someone else? Is there going to be another wave? Will she rescue her brother? Am I going to ask more questions than I answer in my first blog post of 2014? Yes.

"Welcome to Bel-Air."

So let's see: alien love story set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Yeah, still not original. Oh it's referencing Independence Day? Still not original. Why am I pointing out the lack of originality in Rick Yancey's book? Because its lack of originality works so fucking well.

What is right with The Fifth Wave since I'm unabashedly bashing it: it's paced really well. I couldn't put it down. It was boom. Then a big boom. Then a bigger boom. Then a BOOM! You know what I'm talking about?

Rick takes all the scifi cliches like the God Rod and parent death and "Welcome to Earth!" moments and ties them together into a singular thrill ride. A ride where half the time I was waiting for Rick to reference a movie or book or scifi cliche and then he did (you're my homeboy, Rick). It's a fast paced novel filled with nerdy genre references and it somehow works. I'm coming to terms with it.

Three Out of Five Fucks Given

(Full Disclosure: I purchased this and read this on my Kindle)

Side Note: Yes, there is one water wave. I forgot about it until after I wrote this post..
Extra Side Note: I have no idea how to review this book without spoiling it, but since everyone else has read it, I probably could. But hey, I'm a nice guy and the Internet is an archive and this is probably on a To Be Read Pile for someone somewhere. And if Google brought you here because you didn't know what to read next: you're welcome.

Shift - a book review, or Ghost Adventurers Gone Wild

2013-11-02T14:53:00.000-04:00

Shift (The Shade Trilogy)
Jeri Smith-Ready
400 pages

It's been several months since I updated this blog and by proxy, a few months since I've read Shift. It's been almost a year since I read Shade. After finishing Shade I also stopped blogging for a few months. In both those times spans I also stopped reading young adult fiction.

This is not a coincidence.

If you have short term memory loss, as I do, you might remember that I didn't like Shade all that much. I even coined the term coitus spectrophilia (sex with ghosts) to describe it, and I believe I invoked The Holy Jerry Seinfeld "Ehhh. I'm out." quote.

So why the hate for The Shade Trilogy?

The very first book in the Shade series is about a girl trying to fuck her boyfriend (he's a ghost). The first part of this book--the sequel to Shade--is about the same girl trying to fuck her ex-boyfriend who is still a ghost but only sometimes. BUT it turns out ghost-fucking is hard, because you can't touch ghosts, so fucking them is a little difficult (also, said ghost has abs and a button-up shirt that's always open).

I have never had a complete "fuck this book" moment until Shift (and I have read the collected works of Ayn Rand). I am sure some of you are saying "But Adam, we need examples..." WELL BABY I GOTS EXAMPLES.

"Since ghosts are frozen in the happiest time of their lives, a lot of men appear in sports or military uniforms--or nothing at all. At least this one was wearing socks."

This is about the time I threw my Kindle in the microwave (I would've used the popcorn setting had this really happened). To further expand upon the quote: in this book people who die are frozen in time as ghosts--they appear as they were in the happiest moment of their lives.* Which explains the open shirtness, ab-ness of previously said Fuckable Ghost.

So let's examine--in nifty list form!--why this one part offended me oh so badly (Please note: this is only one example).

Not all men like sports.
Not all men like sex.
Not all men's happiest moments happened in bed or in battle.
You are generalizing men in the worst possible way.
You are generalizing girls in the worst possible way.

So wait wait wait wait is what you're saying at this point. It can't be that bad. You're making mountains out of molehills, Adam (I hate this third person speak I started writing in). LET ME BREAK DOWN THE CHARACTERS IN THIS FUCKING BOOK:

Logan - He died after taking cocaine. (He took cocaine so he could bang his girlfriend Aura).
Zachary - He just wants to bang Aura. (He even sets up a special date for her to lose her V-card).
Dylan - Wants to fuck Aura. (He's 16 but has banged sooooo many girls).
Aura - Our female lead, who, well, just wants to fuck three different dudes.
Logan's Other Brother - I remember nothing about this character.

The only male character who isn't out to game some ass is Zach's dad.

This is a serious book? This is what this author thinks about boys? And girls? This is the impression given to teenagers who read this book? I find this offensive. I never underline sentences. But here we are.

It seems the YA genre has gone in an opposite direction recently; it's gone anti-male, and it's something I've ignored up until this point. It's been pushing more boys away than its drawn in. The audience is predominately female now. It's gone rogue in the worst possible way. It's come to the point where reading these kinds of books is seen as girly. It's become a problem, and Shift has added to it.

I don't intend to touch on the plot of this YA novel any further. Or to delve into the topics I'm touching on here (someone else with better writing skills should attempt to articulate what I'm feeling). If I did it would look something like this:

It goes on to the absurd at one point: Aura, out to get some tail herself, is tasked with picking between a ghost, a Scot, and a 16-year-old. Throw in the popular girl and the best friend; everyone wants to fuck one another. Teenage romance has never been so polyamorous.

If you enjoyed this book? It isn't a bad judgement on you. I need readers to understand this: there is no such thing as a bad book. I honestly believe it. And Shift is not horrible. There is a such thing as an insulting book, though. And in this regard Shift is awful.

Basically, if I wanted to read a trashy romance novel I'd get one while I'm at the grocery store.

One Out of Five Fucks Given

Side Note: Jerry Smith-Ready is not a terrible writer; I just don't jive with her male characters. I find them awful and generalized, if I were to ever meet her I would want to sit and talk to her about it. I would probably ask "So, you think having a penis means wanting to bang everything?"

The Scorpio Races - a book review, or My Little Pony Death Race

2013-06-03T09:35:00.000-04:00

The Scorpio Races
Maggie Stiefvater
416 pages

This is a book about water horses. They are not called sea horses because that's something else entirely. These ~~sea~~ water horses are nothing like Snorks. They kill people. So what do the residents of Thisby Island do to contain the threat known as capaill uisce? They throw a horse race of course!

Which, you know, makes total sense. A deadly horse race so people can win money and fulfill their wildest fantasies. Which, for Kate Connolly (known as Puck) is to rescue her dilapidated farm. Not to, you know, move to the Mainland to escape the deadly threat of the water horses (are you with me so far?).

Sean Kendrick is out to be Sean Kendrick. He has a tortured past and a tortured soul and he wants to win the race so he can be free of his boss. Which is more admirable than saving a farm and NOT moving away from the threat of bloody beach horses.

I'm not even kidding. Half the time I'm reading this book I'm saying to myself "Why the fuck don't you just move?" And "Oh you found a dead sheep and your children can't go out after dark because they might get killed? WHY DON'T YOU MOVE TO A SAFER FUCKING PLACE?"

The answers border on the asinine: "Thisby is my home!" or "My heart is in Thisby and nowhere else!" The amount of Shell Shock a resident actually goes through while living on Thisby is mind boggling. Oh and everyone is poor and half the people want to move to the Mainland but don't. They want to sit in their homes located on mud holes and let the guy who runs the island treat them like third class citizens.

Which, you know, makes total sense.

So what did I like about The Scorpio Races? I love the way its written. I love the mythology of the island. I love that it's a unique subject in a genre that needs more uniquey-ness. Most might find the plot boring, but being a resident of Derby City; there's something about horses I will always find compelling.

Thisby is a bit like Sleepy Hollow; a unique story about a town's local legend, it's got a slow creepy chill to it, and it's a welcome change to an ever expanding genre. I'm okay with it. Except when the residents are completely oblivious as to how not to die.

Two Out of Five Fucks Given

Full Disclosure: I read this on my Kindle.

Side Note: Sean and Puck almost remind me of Dagny and Rearden from Atlas Shrugged. The two are extremely head strong, stubborn, and come across as self-righteous in the worst possible ways.

why the f*ck friday (19)

2013-05-24T07:41:00.000-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. It's more of an airing of grievances. A place to complain. This week it's "why the f*ck are you following along with your finger?"

I blame elementary school for this one. I actually follow along with my index finger while I read sometimes. It helps me keep my place on the page and stops my googly eyes from jutting around the page.

It's actually why I prefer to read on the Kindle. I can enlarge the font, give the book more spaces, and jab my finger down on the screen. Granted, I don't do this with every book I read. Only the long-winded ones with small fonts, like fantasy or, well, fantasy. (I think this is why I have an issue with the genre).

It actually turns out--because no one is alone on the internet and everyone is actually a dog--that I am not alone. And it really turns out that everyone should be doing this.

This blogpost is about children using their fingers to keep track. This blogpost is about speed reading, and guess what's helpful in both instances? Using a tracker to keep your place.

Regression, back-skipping, and the duration of fixations can be minimized by using a tracker and pacer. To illustrate the importance of a tracker-did you use a pen or finger when counting the number of words or lines in above baseline calculations? If you did, it was for the purpose of tracking-using a visual aid to guide fixation efficiency and accuracy. Nowhere is this more relevant than in conditioning reading speed by eliminating such inefficiencies.

Basically: it stops me from back-skipping, it helps me keeps my place, and helps me be a more efficient reader. It can make everyone a more efficient reader, because it turns out everyone has to go back and re-read things their eyes have skipped.

The untrained subject engages in regression (conscious rereading) and back-skipping (subconscious rereading via misplacement of fixation) for up to 30% of total reading time.

Or maybe I just have ADHD and this is my way of keeping it under control.

Does anyone else keep track with their fingers? A bookmark? A single sheet of paper (I'm guilty of this when I get towards the end of a book I've really enjoyed)? Remember: no one is alone on the internet, and nobody knows you're really a dog.

The Five Most Overused Plot Elements in YA (right now).

2013-05-23T07:29:00.003-04:00

There are several plot elements I find acceptable in Young Adult literature. For instance, the parents. The parents have to be dead , absent, oblivious, or--in the case of most YA novels--grossly incompetent. This is so the plot can move forward without there being an adult interference. This is an issue commonly dealt with by authors when writing YA; overcoming this boundary can be difficult.

However, there's a few trends floating out in the choppy waters that are the YA genre right now, and I think they need to be called out.

5. Mentally ill brothers.

Examples: From What I Remember, All These Things I've Done.

Element: Every main character that has a brother, has a younger mentally ill brother.

Truth: Where the fuck did this one come from? In From What I Remember the brother has autism. In All These Things I've Done the brother has a head injury--which is kind of Mice of Men-ish. This gives the female protagonist something to worry about--something to think about. If she isn't worrying, if it isn't interfering with her relationship with Mr. Protagonist, then the character isn't "complicated' enough. Better add a mentally ill brother.

Solution: It's okay to make boy characters that don't need to be cared for or coddled. The brother doesn't have to exist or be present. The female protagonist has enough worries, what with the boy she has to gush over.

4. I need to rescue my brother!

Examples: Blood Red Road.

Element: The heroine is on a quest to rescue her brother (bonus points if he's mentally ill).

Truth: Why is it always the brother these days? I get it. Female characters can rescue boys. Male characters can rescue males (doesn't happen often). But it's always the brother the girl goes storming off after. Along the way she meets Mr. Right and they fall in love. For once, I think, I would like to see her find Mr. Right and then go rescue him. I don't think that's too much to ask for.

Solution: It isn't super important that she rescue anyone. People have traveled across the world for far lesser reasons than to simply "rescue their brother".

3. Super mysterious male characters.

Examples: Divergent, Wanderlust.

Element: The female protagonist needs a mysterious male character to fawn over.

No abs? No tats?
Must be a complete douche.

Truth: The male characters in most YA novels are made intentionally mysterious because they're easy to write. They can be in a band, but be quiet, they can be an a-hole, but there's a reason for it. Add in a splash of mental/physical abuse (or some trauma) and a tattoo; boom, you've got your standard mysterious character found in 90% of YA novels. Oh, and don't forget about the abs. They've gotta have abs.

Solution: The female protagonist doesn't need to fawn over shit. She is not even required to like boys at all. If you can't write a male character, don't write a male character. Stephanie Perkins (Lola and the Boy Next Door) gets mad props for writing interesting male characters.

2. Destined to be together.

Examples: The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight.

Element: The universe needs the two main characters to be together or the world will explode.

Truth: It is not a requirement to make a story with a love plot in it. Love triangles do not need to exist just because they're popular. Romance doesn't need to be complicated.

Solution: Don't write a love plot.

1. World governments/the authorities giving a shit.

Examples: Divergent, Matched , The Hunger Games (any and all post-apocalyptic, dystopian novels).

Element: The authorities don't want the lead female protagonist and the lead male protagonist to canoodle. Because two canoodling teenagers will ruin their plans of global domination or subrogation.

Truth: No one gives a shit.

Solution: There isn't one.

Conclusion.

In the case of most examples I've listed--I actually enjoyed the books. I don't mind an overused plot element if it's done correctly. There isn't a way around some plot devices, the general idea to not write them; that can be next to impossible. Real people do have mentally ill brothers, real people do have world governments stopping them from being together.

The idea that looks still matter, or that gender roles still matter, is what really bothers me. We can harp on and on and on about how young girls are given unrealistic expectations when it comes to their bodies. But when it comes to boys? Where are we drawing that line? When it comes to love triangles: why not two girls and a boy? And no, not the boy likes both girls, or the girls like the one boy, but the girl can't pick between the boy and the other girl.

These themes--the ones listed above--and the ones listed here in the conclusion are also found in adult literature. So don't go on about "exposing children" to "mature themes". If a kid has seen Sandy Hook footage, he's seen more violence in a news cast than he has a book. If he was in the room when Will & Grace was on? Don't get me started.

If Dumbledore can be gay--if Ron Weasley can be a cool ginger--then anything is possible in 2013.

Slammed - a review, or Smugged a New Novel by Colleen Hoover

2013-05-22T06:53:00.000-04:00

Slammed: A Novel
Colleen Hoover
352 pages

I've heard a lot about Slammed. It's been making its rounds on all the Young Adult blogs for a while now. Unfortunately, I was off on an adventure while it did this. As of last week I only knew two things about it: it was originally a self-publish novel and got picked up by a publisher (And proud we all are of Colleen Hoover for pulling off that feat)*, and it was written in one month.

This book isn't about all of that, though. It's about love, death, life, and trying to fuck your poetry teacher.

TRYING TO--PARDON MY LANGUAGE--GET SLAMMED BY YOUR NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR. GET IT? IT'S A PUN.

Like, seriously, guys, seriously. Will "The Hunky Next Door Neighbor" Cooper* and Layken "The Lake" Cohen are almost in a relationship but then not. Will is 21, Lake is 18; it's complicated y'all The entire book is like seeing a Facebook relationship status between overly dramatic friends over the course of one week. It would look something like this:

Will Cooper is in a relationship with Layken Cohen.
Will Cooper is single.
Layken Cohen is in a relationship and it's complicated.
Will Cooper is single.
Layken Cohen is in a relationship.
Will Cooper is single.
Layken Cohen is... you know what? You get it by this point.

Slammed means more than the kind of poetry present in the book. We are slammed with plot twists. We are slammed with harsh realities. We are slammed with Avett Brothers songs. We are slammed with life and an overuse of italics.

An overuse of italics. I thought I was the only one guilty of this. But guess what? Colleen Hoover's writing does hold up. It holds up so well that I slammed (see what I did there) through the book in several hours; this is the first book I've read in a single day in a while. Whether or not this is because the writing is simple and straightforward, or because it's just a quick OMGWHATHAPPENSNEXT type of thing; I don't know.

If you're looking for a quick read--and one that will make you question your own morals--this is the book to do it.

Also, I deducted a Fuck. This book should get Four Fucks, but a real romance would not have a sequel.

Three Out of Five Fucks Given

*I'm still not reading self-published books. Also, this is not a self-published book since it's been picked up by a publisher. Loopholes! Not just for Congress.

Scarlet - a review, or Little Red Riding in the Hood

2013-05-20T07:07:00.001-04:00

Scarlet (Lunar Chronicles, Book #2)
Marissa Meyer
464 pages

(This review is spoiler free, which, you know, is hard to do).

I fell down a hill yesterday because a girl smiled at me. I mean, like, smiled smiled at me. I scraped up the whole right side of my arm and bruised my butt. The aftermath of the fall resulted in cursing and hissing and the girl quickly walking away from me. I was also on the phone with my sister.

She heard everything. I apparently said "Fucking boat shoes." Then I thought about
. Cinder who--in the last book--snapped her foot off, which leads to her incarceration in prison, and the new Emperor Kai keeping the cyborg girl's foot in his desk (clearly something is afoot with his feelings).*

Smile Girl and Cinder have two things in common: both of them walked away quickly from an out-of-control situation, and both of them made a guy swoon. Like, a hard swoon. Scarlet does not have these attributes. Scarlet would have stopped and helped me (alright, she would've laughed at me, or would have pushed me back down). She is, after all, on a quest to find her grandmother.

There's also a guy named Wolf who may or may not be a bad guy, and Cinder, and Iko, and the newly crowned Prince Kai; everyone is back. Even the evil step mother, the evil Moon Queen, the evil robots...

Scarlet is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, Cinder a retelling of Cinderella; except these two heroines don't lose shoes or get trailed by wolves; they lose feet and team up with wolves.

I'm starting to think Marissa Meyer got too tipsy on wine one weekend and had a Sailor Moon marathon followed by a watching of The Tenth Kingdom.** There are so many different elements at play, so many things I could reference, so many good science fiction-y moments, that I had trouble keeping up. (There's even a few Heart of Gold moments a la The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy).

What Scarlet is is a much more put together story--a more broader look at the world of Cinder--than the first book of the Lunar Chronicles.

Every once in a while I give a series a second chance, a pardon. Looking back Cinder wasn't a terrible novel; it just didn't jive with me. Looking at Cinder after reading Scarlet? I'm prepared to give a HOGIB pardon to Marissa Meyer. She actually pulled off a rebound.

Well done.

Four Out of Five Fucks Given

(full disclosure: I bought--and read this--on my Kindle).

*This is a pun.
**Go suck an elf if you haven't seen this one.
Edit: Yes, I really fell down.

Why The Next Generation Was Really About Data

2013-05-13T07:26:00.000-04:00

I see a lot of memes about Captain Jean-Luc Picard. I like Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Of all the captains he's probably my favorite. But the television show--and the movies--are not about Picard. They're not even about Riker. They're not about Wesley Crusher becoming a man (and I hated those episodes). Star Trek: The Next Generation is about the humanoid android known as Lt. Commander Data.

"Hello? Yes, I'd love to hear
about AT&T Uverse."

The first scene of the first episode of TNG has Captain Picard interacting with Data, giving him more back story than any of the other characters on the screen; Worf is there (we are not told about his Klingon-ness), Troi is there (we are not told about her tela-pathetic abilities), etc. We learn more about Data than we do any other character in about 30 seconds.

Contrast this first scene with the last scene of Star Trek: Nemesis, which is the very last Star Trek movie starring the TNG cast. The last two characters we see--again--are Picard and a now defunct Data. The series begins with Data's quest for his humanity and ends with his death.

(The series also begins with Picard walking down a hallway contemplating his new ship and mission with a scowl on his face. It ends with Picard walking down a hallway contemplating his life, smiling).*

If you were a child of the eighties or the early nineties (when TNG reruns still ruled the air) you can remember at least one scene from The Next Generation. That scene will always involve Data. In the episode Phantasms he starts dreaming. Everyone remembers this episode because there were two guys taking pick axes to the Enterprise.

Everyone remembers the episode where Data got a girlfriend (it was really an allegory for gays in the military, apparently). Everyone remembers the episode where Data got a daughter. Everyone remembers the episode where Data gets a brother; when he is then betrayed by his brother. Everyone remembers Data's freakin' emotion chip.

Mostly all the pivotal episodes of TNG revolve around Data. Including the one where Picard is abducted and assimilated by the Borg. What's Data doing in that episode? His roll isn't big, but in the original version of the script it called for Data and Picard to become one being. Which would, you know, have been a big deal.

(The Borg later abduct Data in First Contact and try to convince him to join them).

The thing I've always appreciated about TNG has been its ability to comfort me when I'm down. The idea that I can throw on an episode and listen to it in the background, or watch it again and again. It's always been there for me. The parts that have always made me smile were the parts with our pale android friend.

Data doesn't quip, it's his lack of understanding that leads to comic relief on the show. And Data is the only comic relief on the show for many seasons. It's odd that an android--that is void of emotion--is the chosen vessel for this plot element.

If Data were not on the screen we would not get the message TNG is trying to convey. That humanity might be out there exploring the stars, but really, we're just trying to find out who--and what--we are.

*Throughout the years the show was on Picard goes from smiling once a season to every episode.

Currently reading...

2013-05-11T09:49:00.000-04:00

Right now I'm in the middle of reading Scarlet by Marissa Meyer. It's actually--and I do not say this lightly--better than Cinder. Some of you might remember that I wasn't the biggest fan, but some of you should know, I've met Marissa Meyer (yeah I'm name dropping) and she's a lovely woman.

When asked how she came up with the concept for Cinder she had an interesting response. I might be misquoting her:

"I came up with the idea for Cinder by writing Sailor Moon fan fiction. I entered a fan fiction contest and the rules were that I had to pick two themes. I had to pick a fairy tale and a setting. So I picked Puss and Boots and space. It turns out only two people entered the contest... and I didn't win."

I think the Red Riding Hood mythos is more appealing than some girl losing a shoe, anyways. (Anyone remember Freeway with Reese Witherspoon? Absolutely terrified me as a kid).

I'm also on a Jack Spicer kick again and rereading--okay, thumbing through--My Vocabulary Did This to Me: The Collected Poetry of Jack Spicer. Here's an excerpt:

Any fool can get into an ocean
But it takes a Goddess
To get out of one.
What’s true of oceans is true, of course,
Of labyrinths and poems. When you start swimming
Through riptide of rhythms and the metaphor’s seaweed

This is kind of like an "Oh no he didn't" poem. Anyone can write a poem, but it takes a poet to get out of it. At first glance the entire poem is light-hearted and jokey. But something about the last two lines of it always strike me as, for lack of a better word, poetic:

What’s true of labyrinths is true of course
Of love and memory. When you start remembering.

Poetry is suppose to be these little moments of thought, emotion, and sensory perception all at once. Poems are written for memories or from memories. I've always thought these last two lines were Jack saying "You know what, I'm a poet, but I'll be damned if it isn't depressing."

So yeah, oh no he didn't.

Jack Spicer died in 1965, a result of alcoholism. (It seems all great poets and musicians have about the same life span).

Full poem.

I've also been catching up on the World of Alcohol, but not really drinking it. I mean, unless it's Samuel Smith, which happens to be very delicious.

Uncorking the Past: The Quest for Wine, Beer, and Other Alcoholic Beverages

BUT FOR YOU LAUREN OLIVER FANS:

Which, you know, I watched How Beer Saved the World on Netflix recently and the entire subject fascinates me.

That's about it for this week.

why the f*ck friday? (18)

2013-05-10T09:15:00.000-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. This week it's "why the f*ck are you linking to the evil, the vile, the small business-destroying, Amazon.com?"

This is a question that has popped up this week because I came back, put my Amazon wishlist up (it's on the right sidebar), and was immediately questioned as to why I did this.

Most of my followers know I do not want to monetize this website, and putting my wishlist is "kind of" like asking for money. Putting up a donate button? I might do that. Yes, I might start asking for donations for books, or I might put up an unobtrusive advertisement (but only of something I like).

No, I am not going to start taking ARCs or galleys or anything else. (and you self-published people can still back off). The reason why I am having to put stuff up is because I will not compromise on this position.

This has more to do with having a free website up that a lot of people come to. And me having to sometimes spend $30 on books a week when I am actively blogging. Add that up. It's $120 a month. I am taking a loss on this blog, on my hobby, and on my passion.*

I am not the richest person on the planet, either. I actually have a very mundane job that pays for most of my lifestyle, but if I can eliminate one cost, I can live a little better, I can blog a little better, and I can improve the content on HOGIB.

Investing in this blog will make this blog better.

So here's what I want from you guys this week: what is your honest opinion on a blog that monetizes? On blogs that accept donations? On blogs that accept ARCs? On blogs that just stop being so indie?

If a large enough majority of you disagree with me, this website will remain ad free and donation free, and the Amazon wishlist will come down, and I will try harder to bring my own costs down.

*Yes, I do go to the library, but things like Scarlet by Marissa Meyer are on a waiting list for months at a time.

All These Things I've Done - a review, or All This Coffee I've Brewed

2013-05-09T07:38:00.001-04:00

All These Things I've Done (Birthright)
Gabrielle Zevin
368 pages

This how I imagine the pitch for this book went down.

Publisher: What's it about?
Gabrielle Zevin: Well, it's about Prohibition but in the future.
Publisher: (yawns)
Zevin: Where chocolate and coffee has been banned--
Publisher: (starts to nod off)
Zevin: In a future dystopian society a crime boss' daughter falls in love with a district attorney's son, the two are star-crossed lovers... and... Romeo & Juliet... and... paper is scarce!
Publisher: ......
Zevin: And there's gonna be killin'. Lots of killin'!
Publisher: Sold!

Anya (who also goes by Annie, Miss Balanchine, and a plethora of other names) is the main character in this one. Her boyfriend, well, new boyfriend (who also has a bunch of different names)* is the secondary character.

I mention this because I will be calling them First and Second from now on. First meets Second at school, First and Second fall in love, First and Second try to hide their secret and forbidden love. First and Second fail at hiding their secret love. First and Second do absolutely nothing the entire book.

Absolutely. Nothing.

Like, I mean, seriously. Nothing. All These Things I've Done? This is another Britney Spears "Oops I Did It Again" moment. Britney, you never told us what you did the first time. First and Second, you didn't do anything!

All First and Second do is flirt and get out of trouble--because they haven't done anything. They do not traffic chocolate, they do not imbibe illegal substances, they do not eat green eggs and ham, Sam I am. So I am left to wonder: what the fuck did Anya/Annie/Ann/Balanchine do?

ATTID (I'm tired of typing it out) is a classy teen novel set in a future full of vintage clothing and limited resources. A future where the police don't do much policing. A future where it's an adults job to (once again) stop kids from canoodling. Because who needs a bunch of canoodling kids?

Things I did like because I'm rambling on like this is the worst book ever? The Romeo & Juliet references, the throw-back to a granny saying OMG and the kids not knowing what it means, the handicapped brother (because there's always a handicapped brother)**, Gabrielle Zevin's ability to write a mean sentence and tell a good mob story.

Even though the First and Second characters do nothing but hold hands the entire book, Zevin delivers a back history (which is really just our history but from the perspective of the future--genius!) that's both compelling and rich. Zevin might have banned chocolate and coffee, but really, those are just metaphors for, erm, I have no idea.

Three Out of Five Fucks Given

*Seriously, I can't pronounce half the names in this book correctly.
**Where the hell did this trend come from?
Note: Obligatory link to The Killers - All These Things I've Done.

Outpost - a review, or Fifty Shades of Fade

2013-05-06T05:52:00.000-04:00

Outpost (Enclave series #2)
Ann Aguirre
336 pages
(read my review of Enclave here).

(this review is spoiler free, which, you know, isn't easy).

I have a problem with Outpost. The main character's name is Deuce. Which, you know, means two. Ann Aguirre does not utilize this clever name to her full ability. Not once does Deuce say "Deuces!" or "Looks like double trouble!" after stabbing a zombie to death.* Puns she does not. This is like watching a movie where a character doesn't say the title in it.

It's painful.

How am I supposed to know what the name of the movie is if they don't say the title in it? This is madness. There's also a love interest named Fade. These two are out there fighting and killing zombies in a post-apocalyptic wasteland (all the while trying to save a town called Salvation). And yes, not once--after slaying what they call "freaks"--does he pun "And fade to black."

They use giant knives to kill stuff! There's so much pun opportunity--punortunity--it's ridiculous.

I also have no idea what the hell is going on. Like, why is the world the way it is? Why is everyone super religious and what are these "freaks" really? Ann keeps revealing these little tidbits one by one. It's maddening to me. This kind of slow world building builds a lot of suspense, and I had to watch seven years of Lost, so I know about slow building suspense.

I, of course, really appreciate all of these characters and settings and things. And I, of course, really recommend reading the first book, Enclave. (pronounced on-clave, not in-clave). And I, of course, don't mind the amount of gore or mature themes running through the book.

And gore there is.* Copious amounts of gore and a whole new future world to splatter it with. There's also a girl main character who's handy with the big knives (but not with puns) that's discovering her humanity. She's not your typical YA heroine ala Anna and the French Kiss, she's more like that chick from BLOOD RED ROAD.

This is a zombie novel that is not a zombie novel. This is a teen novel that's not really a teen novel. It contains--like an HBO show--mature themes. But that's the way this world is going these days, and Ann Aguirre is one of the writers taking us there.

Four Out of Five Fucks Given

Full Disclosure: I purchased this book in Cincinatti, OH after meeting the lovely Ann Aguirre.

Notes: I got to meet Ann Aguirre a few months ago. She said that in order to really write a fight scene she has to listen to Let The Bodies Hit the Floor by Drowning Pool. It shows. It really shows.
Extra Note: I love the Sirantha Jax series.
*Can a zombie be stabbed to death if it's already dead?
**Not this Gore.

I am making a return to blogging...

2013-05-04T14:09:00.000-04:00

On Monday.

I could go into depth about where I've been, what I've been doing, but no one wants to hear about break-ups, hook-ups, book writing, Medicaid claims, or my cat's projectile vomit.

Instead I will post a picture of a cat on my back.

Also, some things have changed. Including Google Reader. So I am now on Bloglovin. Follow my blog with Bloglovin

why the f*ck friday (17)

2013-03-29T09:17:00.001-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. This week it's "why the f*ck are you in a non-bookish relationship?"

I blame David Levithan for all my relationship problems, or lack of relationships to begin with. Specifically: The Lover's Dictionary (my review). In the book he captures the disintegration of an unnamed couples' coupleship*.

Not just a normal couple, but a bookish couple. Most couples are not avid readers, most couples do not fret with mixing their book collections with another persons. Most couples do not quote Shakespeare to another, they quote Honey Boo Boo at one another because It wasn't love at first sight, it was bed at first sight. You have to try the milk before you buy the cow.

The current culture does lean more towards reality TV, sports, and pop music so cheesy you can't help but love it. But for those of us fortunate enough to date a bookish person, isn't it just great? You get to read some of the same books, go to bookstores, and have intense discussions about Margaret Atwood's overuse of artistic license. Fuck, you could even quote Shakespeare to one another in bed.

Guy: Shall I compare thee to a summer day?
Girl: Don't sweet talk me, we're not doing anal.

OR:

Girl: One half of me is yours, the other half yours. Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
Guy: So... anal?

It's unfortunate--and true--that there's a difference between being bookish, literary bookish, and a non-reader. Or even a non-reader reader (someone who reads six books a year and recommends all of them to a serious reader).

There's a lot of ways this can play out. As someone with a literary background, and someone who reads a lot of young adult novels, I don't often sync up with the women I date. We haven't read a lot of similar novels, we don't have similar tastes, but we can introduce one another to these things.

Dating a non-reader is harder. The TV is always going, there's always noise, there's no quiet nights of books. There's reality TV, there's sports, there are bookstore trips in which the other immediately goes into beta mode, disinterested in everything around them.

These characters don't exist in The Lover's Dictionary. The discussion about mixing books is often one line: "Just put them there." I want to fucking argue about it, damn it. And I am let down that it's never a conversation.

I can picture each relationship distinctly in my mind, reader with non-reader, bookish with non-reader reader, and how each would dissolve quickly. I'm not one to base an entire coupleship** on books alone, but being a freelance writer, being a reader, being a part time blogger; it's my lifestyle. Attempting to share it with someone else who isn't interested in what I do, what fascinates me, is hard to ignore. It's almost a deal breaker, but not really.

There are no book requirements to date me, you just have to be interesting, but cracking open a novel once in a while does help.

How does this sync up for a majority of couples? What kind of relationships have my fellow bloggers and fellow readers been in? Does reading contribute that much to a relationship? Does your significant other read at all? How does this work? Does anyone have similar rules? Or similar thoughts? Post them below.

*Not a real word.
**Still not a real word.

why the f*ck friday (16)

2012-10-19T19:46:00.000-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. This week it's "why the f*ck are you such a purest?"

When I was younger I used to abuse my books. I'd leave them in cars so the spines would melt, I'd drop them in the pool, I'd have an ice cream in one hand and a copy of Hitchhiker's in the other; the pages sticky with sugar.

Sometime later I stopped doing that. I started cherishing the little square things. Keeping them safe, making sure I didn't dog-ear pages, and I would never, not a million years ever, write in a book or highlight a passage. That was a cardinal sin to me.

Yet sometime ago I stopped doing even that. I started to abuse the fuck out of my books again. I started highlighting. I started underlining. I started to write in the margins. I started to break the spines from cracking open the same book of poetry over and over again.

I'm not that extreme about it.

I spilled coffee on them and didn't care. I took them to the park and let dogs chew on them while I wasn't looking. I abused my books. I stopped thinking of them as sacred little squares that needed to be protected. I started considering a well-read and well-abused book as something to be proud of. I would laugh at my sad little copies and state "I read the fuck out of you. You were great."

Yet. Some part of me still feels a little naughty for doing this. Some part of me wants to take that old battered copy and make it new again. I still keep some books (signed copies, special editions) in excellent shape. I still protect them.

I'm not a full blown "don't crack that book open too far" purest, but I do appreciate shelf wear and tear. Surely I'm not the only one? So this week's question is: why the f*ck are you such a book purest?

Currently reading...

2012-10-16T06:22:00.000-04:00

I used to do an entire post on what I was reading this week, just to keep everyone in the loop. It made my blog more journal-like, but at the same time I got to talk about a variety of different things that don't make it on Hitting On Girls in Bookstores. So I thought I'd start doing it again. What are you reading this week?

This week I'm torn between reading The Rook and rereading Cloud Atlas. I've had a long standing love affair with all things David Mitchell. Number 9 Dream? Check. Ghostwritten? Check. Black Swan Green?* Check.

My fanboyishness for Mitchell has extended to forcing one coworker to read Cloud Atlas (she liked it). The rest of his work is now living on my desk at work, ready to loan out if anyone ever brings him up.**

I guess it's a good thing that Cloud Atlas is going to be a movie, and that it has Tom Hanks in it, but really, if he fucks this up there will be no forgiveness on my part. But it looks like a nice movie, what with Hugo Weaving (the most under appreciated actor ever) also starring in it.

Don't fuck this up, Tom.

The Rook was actually a recommendation--kind of--from Lish McBride (Necromancing the Stone). She had brought it up at a book event recently that it's the kind of novel she's always wanted to write. I can't say I blame her, it's inventive, it's fun, it's funny. I'm really enjoying it.

Not to mention that I also had a sleeve-off with Lish McBride that night as well (more on this later--with pictures).

Also, I am completely obsessed with a poet named Sara Teasdale right now:

When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough;
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.

Her poems are passionate and brutal, dark and morose, romantic and anti-climatic. She died young and didn't write very much, but what she left behind is something that I've come to appreciate. You can find most of her poetry online for free, and Amazon even has free ebooks of her works.

The discovery of this poet can only go to Ann Aguirre. Who has written at least two favorite series of mine: Enclave and Sirantha Jax.

*Funny Note On Black Swan Green: This one was a gift. In return I gave them to The Devil Wears Prada. It seems like an unfair trade-off.
**I also keep Douglas Adams in my desk.

The Catastrophic History of You and Me - a review

2012-10-15T07:52:00.000-04:00

The Catastrophic History of You and Me
Jess Rothenberg
375 pages

There's Not Another Teen Movie. Then there's Vampires Suck. The next parody movie that needs to be made is Not Another Dead Kid. That sounds harsh, but really, it's not.

Between Shade (dead boyfriend) and 13 Reasons Why (over dramatic dead girl) and various other books that deal with the topic of death, something bad has happened. No one is really dead. I mean, like, completely dead. Like, I have zero influence on the plot because I'm totally fucking dead dead.

That's not the issue I really have with The Catastrophic History of You and Me. The issue is the dead girl herself: Brie. Brie who dies when her boyfriend says "I don't love you." Because, you know, that happens all the time and a boyfriend is something that you should base your ENTIRE existence on. He should be your social life, your best friend, your study buddy, your barf barf barf.

Brie--without knowing how clingy she comes off as--is dead. She can influence some events (push things, let people feel her presence) and is running around San Francisco with a teenagemalepotentialloveinterest* trying to figure out how to move on. That's the plot.

Oh. And she won't shut the fuck up, either.

Really. She will not stop whining. Mostly every conversation in every chapter goes like this:

Brie: I should be alive and able to (insert whatever).
Teen Angel: You can't. You're dead.

Or the teen angel makes some other kind of a quip as to how dead Brie is. It was all so CSI: Miami. I was just waiting for that yell: YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH as one of them put on their sunglasses.**

It's something I can't handle. Teen characters being all whiny and repetitive. Catastrophic wasn't horrible. It has its moments. The afterlife is part pizzeria? Sign me up. There's an adorable dog. There's a... each chapter opens with a quote from a song!

There's also a great father character that didn't get enough time in the book. Instead it was boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend. It's just a book I couldn't get into. I guess it's a dead giveaway that this one didn't live up to its potential... YEEEAAAAAHHHHH.

Two Out of Five Fucks Given

*It's one word now.
**YEEEEAAAAHHHH!
Full Disclosure: I read this on my Kindle.

why the f*ck friday (15) (and introducing my rating system)

2012-09-21T06:27:00.000-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. This week it's "why the f*ck don't you have a rating system?"

I guess it's inevitable that I would fall into the trap that is a star rating system. It seems the popular thing to do. Some people even go out of their ways to make it a little different by using different symbols.

I've always steered away from using a rating system on my blog. If I used one--I thought--no one would read what I wrote and go directly to the whole "three out of five stars" thing and fixate on it before finding out why it's three out of five stars. A scale should be accurate and only aide in a book review.

Stars? No. Fuck that.

So, I've decided to start using one on my blog. I'm just going to test the waters with it for a week or so to see if it sticks. If it doesn't, then it goes. If I get lazy or tired of it: it goes.*

I'm trying this now because I feel like I've built up enough of an audience for them to understand that the scale is just a sign post. It's something to be guided by, not the end-all-be-all of the entire review.

So here it is. I'm not going by stars. I'm going by Fucks. I have given this a lot of thought. I was originally going to use cats, but felines seem a little too over done on this blog already. But Fucks? I can never have enough of those. Here's the scale:

One out of Five Fucks Given - I either missed the point or it just wasn't for me.
Two out of Five Fucks Given - There's something here. It's not for everyone, but it's fun.
Three out of Five Fucks Given - Probably worth a checkout if you're a fan of the genre.
Four out of Five Fucks Given - Knock it up on your TBR pile so we can talk about it.
Five out of Five Fucks Given - Why have you read this yet? Why did it take me so long to read this?

Please notice that the scale gives no indicator of a book being terrible. There are no bad books. There are just different kinds of readers.

Just to give you an indication of what this will look like when it comes to books:

Enclave - Three out of Five Fucks Given
Black Hole Sun - Two out of Five Fucks Given
Monstrous Beauty - Five out of Five Fucks Given

My question this week: what do you think of the new scale? Do you pay attention to star ratings? Does it influence your reading? Are you guilty of skipping the entire post? Do you even have any fucks to give?

This post is rated One out of Five Fucks Given.

*Like so many other things I've done.
Note: If we're friends on Goodreads--and we should be friends on Goodreads--then you'll notice that I do star things on there. I've been using this scale in my brain for a while now.

Black Hole Sun - a review

2012-09-20T06:54:00.003-04:00

Black Hole Sun
David Macinnis Gill
352 pages

I read this book because it was compared to Firefly. I was told it was a direct ripoff of Firefly. I am extremely disappointed because 1. I miss Firefly and 2. because this book only has hints of Firefly in it.

I'm not really sure where the comparison to a canceled space western comes in, except that this is a space western set on Mars. Durango--the main character--could bubble up to be Captain Malcolm Reynolds. He could, except Captain Reynolds had better lines.

I could see how space cannibals could be compared to Reevers (space cannibals from Firefly), but really, space cannibals have been around for a while.*

I can see how Durango's cursing in Chinese, Latin, and other languages could be compared to Firefly. Except that's all been done before. David Macinnis Gill even has fake curse words, which once again, has been done before.

It's a book set on a dystopian Mars, with cannibals, with gunslingers, with made-up curse words, with characters who curse in different languages, with fucking laser guns. It's a hodge podge of science fiction elements from across the genre mashed into one book. There's even an Artificial Intelligence in Durango's head.**

The book itself is difficult to get into at first. The problem comes from Mimi, the above mentioned Artificial Intelligence, who speaks whenever she wants and sometimes interrupts dialogue. I felt like her interference bogged down the pacing a lot. There's also the issue of the characters speaking another language. It happens way to often and lead to far too much Googling for my own taste.

So here's the deal: I am a hardcore science fiction geek. I love the genre. So, naturally, I enjoyed Black Hole Sun. Its mash up of science fiction cliches and references humored me greatly. There's even a character named Leroy Jenkins.***

There's nothing wrong with Black Hole Sun if you're a fan of the genre. It's actually great fun if you are. If you aren't? You're not going to get it. I wouldn't recommend this book to my sister, but to my nerdy "Star Wars is the best thing ever" friend? Yeah. Him. He'd enjoy it, I think.

*Here's a Wiki article about cannibalism in popular culture. I find it odd this is being kept track of.
**Dystopian Mars: Total Recall. Cannibals: Firefly. Gunslingers: Firefly/Doctor Who. Made-up Curse Words: Farscape. Witty Banter: Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Laser Guns: Star Trek, Stars Wars. Artificial Intelligence: Andromeda.
***Leeerrooooy Jenkins.
Note: The creepiest music video ever made is called Black Hole Sun.

Monstrous Beauty - a review

2012-09-17T06:16:00.000-04:00

Monstrous Beauty

Elizabeth Fama

304 pages

This is a really good book. I shouldn't even use the term book. Novel sounds so much more classier. This is a really good fucking novel. That "fucking" is italicized to emphasize how fucking good of a novel Monstrous Beauty is.

Yes. It's about mermaids. Yes. It's about a mystery and a curse and a love triangle. This isn't Nancy Drew Solves a Mermaid Mystery, though. This is The Little Mermaid meets American Gods.*

So here it is. An engaging YA novel that pushes the boundaries of the genre. A YA novel that is both entertaining, dark, and prose-y. A novel that's YA and smart. A YA novel that doesn't treat the reader like they're 14. It uses big words and big concepts and expects you to pay attention. Not to placidly sit back and marvel at how beautiful one of the male leads is. It's a YA novel that isn't a YA novel but is a YA novel.

I can't describe the plot without describing the ending, which is actually the beginning, which is actually part of the charm the entire endeavor. (insert Quentin Tarantino reference here)** So this makes Monstrous Beauty something everyone will have to read to understand.

There's a simplistic approach to the prose-y style of Monstrous Beauty. There's a richness to the writing that seems simple at first. Yet I know each sentence was labored over. It's that kind of quality that's been missing from the last few YA books I've read. Where some authors would write a paragraph to describe the ooey-gooey feelings their characters are having; Elizabeth Fama only writes one.***

I have a blurb for the back cover. I really do. I want--and this is me summing up my appreciation for the novel--to sum it all up with one sentence because I cannot do it in five or six paragraphs: "Monstrous Beauty satisfies a craving that wasn't initially there, a craving for something dark and sensuous, it's as bitter and filling as semi-sweet chocolate, I was glad to sink my teeth into it."

*I never compare anything to American Gods. I reread it every year. So this is a rarity.
**Actually, I wanted to go with M. John Harrison's Light, but I wasn't sure everyone would get that reference.
***The first line of the novel is "Syrenka wanted Pukaknokick."

why the f*ck friday (14)

2012-09-14T07:28:00.000-04:00

Welcome to WTFF. In which I attempt to answer a single question--normally a thought on a book or a bookish subject--that I've been pondering for the past week. This week it's "why the f*ck did I just buy that?"

I know I'm not the only one out in the world with a weird reading fetish. I'm not talking about reading multiple books. I'm talking about buying habits. I'm talking about purchasing books you have no intention of reading.

I think it's called cover appeal. I am attracted to a good cover, sometimes I don't even intend to read the book I just bought. I just like how it looks. I have found myself doing this less and less (covers seem to be degrading in quality and I can only take so many chopped off faces).

What do I consider a good cover? The Sirantha Jax covers:

What is it about these book covers that just make them seem fascinating? It's somewhere between "classic science fiction" and "bad ass chick" on the cover scale. Whomever did the artwork for them summed up the series with just a cover.

There was absolutely no reason for me to buy the actual books, I could have gotten them in ebook format. Instead I opted to buy them in paperback just for the covers. So my question for everyone this week is: what is a good cover to you? Do you buy books with no intention of reading them? Just for the cover? Can you explain your attraction to them?

Note: If I ever meet Ann Aguirre I will have her sign all my copies and cut off the covers and frame them. Maybe.

Enclave - a review

2012-09-10T05:47:00.002-04:00

Enclave
Ann Aguirre
272 pages

I want to start my review of Enclave by talking about zombies. Or what classifies as a zombie. Or better yet: what is the zombie motive. Clearly, the zombie motive is to eat people. But these aren't normal zombies. These zombies can reason to some extent. They can form small groups and go after people.

These are also Ann Aguirre zombies. Some might not be aware of Aguirre's Sirantha Jax series--a great space-y scifi epic for adults. From those books I have learned not to trust Ann Aguirre. So what exactly are Ann Aguirre zombies? They're smelly. They're claw-y. They're known as Freaks to the characters. They're mindless wandering and endless hunger are what set the tone for Enclave.*

Deuce is our main character. A huntress from an underground clan known as an enclave. She's never been topside (above ground). Certain things (like sex, good food) are banned for her. She's a fierce warrior girl. I end my description of the plot there. Spoilers and all that funky stuff.

There are certain moments during Enclave that I thought to myself "Is this a fucking kids book, really?" It's like watching an old episode of a TV show. One that you watched as a kid and are now seeing as an adult. Except then you realize there are a lot of adult themes on that show that you never picked up on. If I were twelve and reading this? I'd be "OMG ZOMBIES". Instead, I'm an adult, and I'm thinking "Wow. That's some serious shit right there."

How I felt while reading Enclave.

Ann Aguirre manages to plop her characters where they don't need to be. She's extremely harsh to her characters. She abuses them. She tussles them about. She'll kill them and starve them. She is not your typical YA author. She was far kinder in the Sirantha Jax series. This is saying a lot, because those books are for adults.

How bad is it? It's bad. The zombies at least have a reason for the way they are, the human characters? They're actually worse. From the worst kind of complacency to murder to hinted at atrocities to almost useless hope. That's the Ann Aguirre formula for this one.**

Enclave stands out in the same way that Blood Red Road did. It's refreshing in the same way. It's meaty and dark, bloody and bold, killer and... you get the point. Just don't wander into this one expecting fluffy bunnies and rainbows. It ain't gonna happen.

*The characters also mindlessly wander around with an appetite all their own. I see what you did there, Ann.
**Really, this book is a middle finger to The Hunger Games. Please remove The Hunger Game comparison from the cover.
Note: Wander/wonder still trips me up.
Extra Note: I'm still in love with Sirantha Jax.